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carolmunson · 1 year

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baby, as if | flashbacks pt. 2

welcome back to the jungle, babes. baby as if: masterlist (read with caution.)

welcome to the second part of the flashbacks. here we see what happened, where the sour parts began. here, we semi-answer the questions for why he's like that. tw: 18+ (21+ preferred), p in v sex, drug use, references to violence, active violence (domestic and non-domestic), references to gun violence, references to violence with a switchblade, references to club going/getting lapdances, established couple arguing, verbal abuse, psychological abuse/gaslighting, screaming matches, etc. dead dove, do not eat. for a more extensive list of trigger warnings please look at the master list.

5 Years Ago

“Oh, fuck that’s it,” Eddie huffs, sweat making the underside of his hair curlier than normal against his neck, “Ride it juss – mmm, shit, just like that.”

“S’good?” you whine out, eyes glassy and begging for a morsel of his praise. You both still had your clothes on, panties pushed to the side under your diner dress, jeans shoved down part way while he leaned back on the driver’s seat of the van – parked hidden away beyond the trees outside the diner parking lot. Your lunch break spent sucking him in between your thighs.

“Mmmfuckyes,” he hisses out, voice gravelly and deep, “Always so good, sweetheart. Fuck, this pussy’s all mine, isn’it?”

“All yours,” you yelp while his palm comes down in a loud crack on the side of your ass, “S’yours.” “That’s right, s’all mine,” he whines, eyes rolling while your hips slap against his pelvis. His hips stutter upwards and still, fingertips sinking into your skin where he grabs you, “Shitshitshitshitshit.” “Ooh yes, cum for me, cum for me,” you gasp, riding him through his orgasm, only slightly lucid from your own moments before. He grins at your encouragement, brows pinching in the ecstasy of his aftershocks before he pulls you in to kiss him while you both come down.

“Fuh-hu-hu-uck, I love you,” he whispers while he catches his breath, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” you smile into his neck, pressing yourself flush against his chest to hold him tighter.

His palm grazes your back, a soft hum pouring from his chest before he presses a kiss to your shoulder, “You gotta get a new dress for the diner soon, honey. This one’s a little tight, don’t you think?”

“You callin’ me fat, Ed?” you ask, abruptly leaning back from him.

He laughs, shaking his head, “No sweetheart, not at all. M’just sayin’ it’s showing you off a little more than I’d like it to.”

“How else am I gonna get tips, handsome?” you wink. He lets his eyes roam over your for a moment.

He shrugs with the cock of his head, “When you’re right, you’re right, I guess.”

Eddie leans in to kiss you again, one rough hand comes up to cup your cheek, “If things keep goin’ how they’re goin’ you won’t even need to work at the diner anymore, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” you mumble against his lips.

“Yeah, I’ll be takin’ good care’a you,” he smirks, mouth pressing against your cheek, your jaw, your neck, “Keep you at home with a couple babies, far the fuck away from Indiana.”

“Oh, I gotta stay home with the babies?” you giggle, “I can’t be an award winning journalist while you’re home with the kids?”

“I can do that,” he laughs, nuzzling against your skin, “Be a stay at home dad, watch you be great.” You give each other a few more kisses – soft and gentle, “I’ll see you at ten, kay?” “Okay,” you whisper against his lips, crawling off of him over the console and getting in the passenger's seat so he can drive you back into the parking lot. You touch up your make up in the mirror while he watches, lower lip tucking between his teeth. “You’re too pretty,” he scolds, “Who said you could look so pretty like that?” “Shut up,” you laugh, dabbing your chapstick on with your finger. You give him a final peck on the cheek before getting out of the van altogether, “See you later.”

Time ticks on at the diner and it’s a quiet night besides of the corner booths of your regular construction guys. You always take your time with them because they tip the best right after payday and even if you hate to admit it – they’re a little funny. They’re cute, too.

The grease and oil on their clothes smells like Eddie after a shift at the garage, smells like your dad’s coveralls. It’s what you expect men to smell like these days, never scrunching your nose the way some of the women do who walk by. “Who do you think’s winning Smackdown this season?” Bryan asks you in front of the guys. “Bry, you ask me something about WWE every time you’re here and every time I gotta tell you I have no clue what you’re talkin’ about,” you laugh, writing out the check and slipping it onto the table. “We gotta educate ya, girl,” the guys chime in, “Maybe one of these nights we can have the remote and put it on. We’ll tell you all about it.” “Over my boss’s dead body,” you roll your eyes, “No rush on the check fellas, let me know if you need anything else.” They always hang around late but you never mind too much, they don’t ask a lot and they never get too rowdy now matter how many beers they clear. Bryan and his closer work buddies have been coming around here since long before you were working behind the counter. He knows your birthday and you know his, you met his mom a couple of times, his grandparents twice. His daddy left when he was a kid, but his papa basically raised him.

The bell on the door clinks and you can smell the acrid tobacco from the Camel’s Eddie smoked when the air whooshes in with him. He smiles at you, soft pink lips splitting his face when he sees you behind the shiney linoleum. Ten o’clock on the dot. You pour him a cup of coffee when he sits on the stool across from you. “How long you think it’s gonna take to close up tonight?” he asks, tossing a glance over at the group in the corner booths. His brows raise slightly before he brings his attention back to you: the smear of your mascara under your eyes, the slight dampness at your hairline – too pretty. “Should be ready to hit the road around eleven,” you pass him a couple of creamers and a sugar packet which he always ignores. Sandra tries not to get mad when you flirt instead of closing up.

He leans up on the stool, lips pulling in for a smooch. You oblige him every time, never realizing all the reasons he does it. He wants those boys to know you aren't on the market, well taken care of by a man with his budding reputation. Eddie Munson wasn't really someone you wanted to get on the bad side of, at least that's what people were saying in town under their chitters of day to day gossip. His posture stiffens when the guys get up to pay about a half hour later, when they make jokes with you, when they imply they'll see you tomorrow. Eddie's jaw clenches and releases, rolling his shoulders when they file outside to smoke their end of night cigarettes.

"Busy night?" he asks once the bell stops dinging. "A little," you shrug, you walk around the counter to clean up their table; smiling to see they've stacked everything together to make it easier to carry. "Good tips?" he asks. You nod, patting your apron while you disappear in the back, letting Peter know that was the last of the dishes. Eddie catches you when you reappear, closing in on a slow kiss. "Thought about you all day," he smiles, "Your dad was pissed, I dropped a wrench twice under the hood of some new customer's car." "Don't test him," you tease, "He's a hard ass." "I'm his favorite," he winks, "Gonna be his son one day, right? He can't hate me now." You start to count out the register, catching his eye in between the change of bills -- he winks each time, making your heart race. But your smile falls when you see his phone start to buzz on the table.

“Don’t get all pouty, it could just be Gare,” he says when he catches your change in expression. The soft breath out of his nose tells you enough. “M’sorry baby, I gotta go,” he says, one foot already hitting the white and black tile below him, “Big move over by Rick’s and they need extra support.”

He leans over the counter again to give you a kiss, but your frown is evident. "How am I gonna get home, Ed?" you ask softly. "Aw, honey," he pouts, voice stuffy with baby talk, "M'so mean, huh? Why don't you call your dad? He'll come get you. Unless you wanna wait for me. I’ll be back in – I dunno, two hours tops. Come back a few G’s richer than I was before." "I'm not waiting around outside the diner until one in the morning," you sigh, reaching for your phone in your apron, "I'll figure something out." Your frustration is evident.

“C'mon, look'it me," he says softly, smiling when he meets your eye, "I’ll get you somethin’ pretty tomorrow." He leans forward to kiss you again – short little pecks, “Whatever.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Want.” Kiss. “Don’t make this a regular thing,” you warn, crossing your arms and trying not to smile after the kissy assault. He nods, leaning in again to kiss you on the mouth more seriously than before.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he says, gathering his keys and bouncing up off the stool, "Text me when you get home. I love you." “I know, handsome,” you nod.. He blushes at the name, you know it’s his favorite – he never really thought he was handsome before you came around to remind him all the time.

“Hey,” he pouts at you from the door, “Say it back.” "I love you, too," you sing song, leaning on your elbow on the clean counter top. That's how it's been -- always with a promise of something pretty, of something new, of something he wants to see you in, to smell you in, to kiss you in. New shoes, new dress, new mascara, new lip gloss, new, new, new. But you were starting to miss the old Eddie who didn’t have to be on call all the time. Eddie, who'd be excited to see Beau at the shop, who wasn’t too tired from being with Rick and the boys, from making deals all night – from pushing bricks in different states.

When 11 hits you make your way out of the diner, your dad didn't answer your call -- both your parents and Beau fast asleep by now. You light a cigarette, seeing the headlights of a car turn on in the dark parking lot headed your way. "Hey, where's your man?" Bryan says from the driver's side, another friend in the passenger. "Had somethin' to do," you shrug, flicking your ash into the bush behind you. "I can give you a ride, if you want."

You weren't in any position to say no to a ride.

A few weeks pass and Eddie hasn't been able to drive you home from the diner at all these days. Date nights coming in a little farther and few in between. Even Beau had been asking where he'd been lately. But tonight it was just the two of you, back pack filled for a night over at his place. Movies snuggled up on his couch, two different kinds of pizza and the cinnasticks you liked so much -- extra iceing. You could barely stop smiling during your mid-shift, giggling at every text message, every smiley he sent your way.

You jump at the harsh sound of the horn outside, expecting him to come in and give your mom a hug like he usually does. He's idling outside of your family's house, knee bouncing and fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Hair tied up, bangs curly and over flowing on his forehead, damp with sweat.

“Is that Ed, honey?” she calls from the kitchen, organizing pins back in her trusty tackle box of hair fixins that she keeps in the cabinets closer to her hair cutting chair.

“Yeah!” you yell back, shoving some essentials in your purse before running toward the door, “Um, I’ll probably see you tomorrow!”

“Okay, tell him I said hi!” she offera while you head outside. He flashes his high beams at you, honking the horn again while you squint under the harsh bright lights. Your keys jingle in your hand while your sneakers sink into the mud from the summer rain, hurrying to open the door.

“Hi handsome,” you smile, but he doesn’t look happy to see you, “You okay?”

“Babe, what’re you wearing?” he asks while he looks you over, “We’re goin’ to the club.”

You look him over, blackest black slim fit slacks, shoes shined, leather jacket newly conditioned while all the hardware glinted back at you in the light above him. You look down at your sweatshirt and jean shorts, your dirty sneakers, “Oh, um, I can go change.”

He sighs, big and heavy, leaning his head back on the headrest, “We don’t have time, I gotta meet Rick beforehand.”

“You didn’t – you didn’t tell me. I thought we were just going to yours tonight,” you say, hoisting yourself into the passengers seat, “So don’t act all – I don’t know – fuckin’ exasperated with me for not dressin’ up.”

He takes a deep breath through his mouth and out through his nose, eyes closing and fingers tightening on the wheel while you click your seatbelt into place, “M’not exasperated with you. But now I gotta leave you at Rick’s ‘cause I’m not gonna be late for this play just cause you don’t read your texts.”

Your furrow your brows at him, his tone feels clipped, sharpened – he was tense like a stretched elastic, waiting to snap, “You didn’t text me.”

“Yes I did,” he huffs, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street, “Why don’t you check?”

You do, even going as far to open your text conversation, his last message from the last hour in his shift: see u in two hours, qt :)

“It’s just from when you texted me from work,” you say, turning the screen toward him, “See?”

He scans it, knee bouncing, fingers drumming, he swipes his hand under his bangs to push away the sweat, “You have bad service or something? Did you delete it?”

“No, babe, I think you just didn’t press send,” you laugh lightly, “Unless you got some other bitches you were supposed to meet tonight.”

His head had never whipped so fast around, “Why would you say somethin’ like that, hm?” he snaps, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Ed, babe,” you say softly, “You serious? I was joking. It was just a slip up, I’ll hang at Rick’s.”

“Well it’s not funny,” he says, leg bouncing so fast it shakes the van at the red light you’re stopped at, “I don’t like that shit.”

Your heart sinks, watching the whites of his knuckles flex and relax on the wheel. Your suspicions might be right about why he was acting like this tonight, “You gonna kiss me hello, or no, Munson?”

His shoulders slump, turning to you to lean in for a kiss, but you catch his eyes in the streetlights – pupils blown to block out his pretty brown irises. Your brows pinch and you reach out to hold his chin in your hand.

“Wait – are you -- are you fucking tweaking right now?” you ask, the anger present on your face.

“Stop it,” he sighs, rolling his eyes and dragging his face out of your grip to look back on the road, “I had a little blow, m’not tweaking.”

“So you’re gonna do this play all revved up? Thought you weren’t ever gonna touch your own stash,” you snap. Eddie wasn’t innocent and you weren’t either, but he was always – always adamant on not touching what he sells.

“I’ve been awake for two days,” he boredly explains, raising his voice to drown out your disappointment, “I needed a boost.”

He grabs your hand from your lap, pulling your knuckles up to his mouth to kiss them, “Don’t be mad, please?”

“I’m not mad you just…you don’t have the right personality to be playing around with that shit,” You huff, savoring the feeling of his soft lips on your fingers.

“M’not playing around with it, it was just for a boost,” he pleads in a whine. You stay glaring at the windshield while his thumb caresses your hand.

“Baby…” he says sweetly, casting his hook, “Don’t be mad, baby girl. I’m sorry.”

Line. Sinker. You try not to grin but can’t help it, warmth pools through your body when he talks to you like that. He presses a kiss to your fingertips this time.

“Do you love me?” he asks. “Unfortunately,” you groan sarcastically.

“I love you more,” he says, keeping your hand with his on his lap, “Love you the most.”

You get to Rick's, hand in hand with your boyfriend while he guides you inside. To anyone else it would look like a party but the group was too small, it's what Eddie would call a gathering. He says his hellos and you say yours before Ed finds the man of the hour in the corner with Steve Harrington -- budding favorite dealer amongst Indiana's elite. "Harrington," Eddie nods, his arm skating around your waist. They nod at eachother mid conversation, you both wave. You try not to listen to whatever they're talking about, not wanting to get caught up in the stress. The smoke in the air burns your eyes against the neon pink light fixtures burning on the wall. You wonder where Rick ordered these one's from -- or stole them. Something. "Alright baby, I'm gonna head out with the guys but I'll be around later, alright? I'll come get you," he promises, pressing kisses on your cheek that offer you whispers of his cologne. It's not too long before a joint is perched between your lips, hearing the revs of cars and Steve's motorcycle outside, all headed to he same place. But Eddie didn't show up -- popped up two days later with a cross tattoo on one of his knuckles -- fresh. His eyes were dark, under eyes darker -- tense and overwhelmed -- but much richer than he was two days before. Not showing up became regular. Countless texts and calls of: ‘Sorry baby, things are running late.’ ‘Sorry baby, have to run some plays for Rick.’

‘Sorry baby, gotta go to Michigan with some of the guys.’

'Sorry baby, I'm just so tired.'

Bryan drove you home every shift for two months, ever since Eddie stopped coming by. Started spending his nights at clubs and bars to deal, ignoring your calls and texts for days on end.

You let Bryan start kissing you goodbye.

Four and a Half Years Ago

Eddie got another cross tattoo a month after his first, hunkering down and laying low for a while, especially now that his daddy was out of jail. No one liked Mack Munson the way they liked his son, not the same criminal he was. Mack did crime for sport, how far can you go? How many people can you hurt? How many envelopes can you push until you've pushed too many? He's normally out for a few months before he's back in again, but that's easy when you've got no where to go.

Eddie was different -- making a name for himself in all the right ways. Oh, a kid at the park's bike got stolen? Eddie got him a new one. Wayne's car broke down? He covered the cost to fix it. Mrs. Costner couldn't pay her heating bill? Don't worry, Eddie will be there with the cash before you can say 'hypothermia.' Even the cops were starting to let him slide if he could spare a few pills, a few ounces, a few dollars. It felt good to be bad if he could get some good out of it. Not that he was telling you anything, this was through the grapevine. Checking your phone to some of your friends with pictures of him at the club. 'This your man?'

Maybe.

He'd come see you sometimes at the diner, fresh and clean, nails shined and silver shinier. Eddie would look at you with those love sick eyes, watching you work in the overhead light. Your smile, your laugh, the way you hold one hand on your hip while you pour coffee. His phone would buzz and then he'd leave, sometimes without saying goodbye.

Your boyfriend, the ghost. Sex felt different when he offered it, he seemed distracted. You could've sworn you saw a girl's name pop up on the screen when he had a call come in but he'd flip it over before you were sure. Forehead to forehead, panting while he held your face in place to look at him. I love you, I love you, I love you. It was hollow, the dark blackness of his oversized pupils daring you to not say it back. You always did. How could you not?

Bryan was different -- he was long car rides and shared doughnuts. He always let you play your favotite songs on the radio. You weren't walking on egg shells, he liked when you bantered with his friends. There wasn't an underlying dread beneath every interaction the way it had become with Ed.

And Bryan's pupils always stayed the same size.

You aren't expecting to see Eddie's van outside the diner when you finish up your mid-day shift. The fall weather turned the sun down hours ago, but the night was still young and abuzz with life. You'd planned on going out since you had the weekened off, but it seemed like Eddie had different ideas for you.

He shoved the diner door open, looking disheveled and out touch, reeking of cigarettes he chainsmoked before he got in. "You done for the night?" he asks while you come around the corner of the counter with your jacket on. "Yeah, um -- why're you here? You didn't text me," you ask quietly, following him out into the crisp air. You wave your goodbyes through the newly repaired window to a dissapointed Sandra -- even if Eddie paid for the fix, she still didn't like that boy.

"We're goin' for a ride," he mumbles, "Gotta talk to you about somethin'."

You heart sinks and then hammers when you get in the passengers seat of the van. Fear floods through your veins, even overpowering your disappointment when you see a lipgloss in his cup holder that you know doesn't belong to you.

You take the moment that he's distracted from a phonecall with Gareth to text Bryan that you won't need a ride, shoving the phone in your pocket where he can't see. Eddie takes you to the lake where you both used to sit in talk in the summers when you were first getting to know each other. This visit didn't feel friendly in the same way, this time you knew he wasn't going to awkwardly reach for your hand or fumble over his wors like he used to.

“So you fucked some other guy?” he asks, flicking his cigarette into the lake, “You cheated on me?”

“I – Eddie -- we've barely been seeing each other. You've been dodging for months,” you explain, “I thought we were done.”

“Did I say that? Did I break up with you?” he snaps, “Cause I’m pretty sure your dad still thinks I’m your boyfriend. Pretty sure all the guys still think I’m your boyfriend. And now I look fuckin’ stupid ‘cause you’re goin’ around with some asshole.”

You shook your head no, feeling his anger radiate off of him, so quick to find it these days, “M’not goin’ around with someone. We aren’t like, together or anything. He took me on a few dates, he drives me home, we kissed, we–”

“You fucked him,” he spits, “And I know you did cause you can’t fuckin’ look me in the eyes. You at least owe me that much.”

You reluctantly make eye contact with him, your reflection shining back in his wet angry gaze. You take a deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth shakily, “Yeah, I fucked him. At least he’s fucking around for me to fuck.”

“Oh, s’that what this is?” he scoffs, “Not getting enough attention? God for-fuckin’-bid huh? God forbid I got shit to take care of so I can help out my uncle and get ‘im set up in an apartment. God forbid I start movin’ up the ranks so I can start making some more cash. And-and-and god fuckin’ forbid I take some different shifts at the garage so I can sleep in a little after being up all night tryna not get busted by Hopper and his fuckin’ pig brigade. So sorry I wasn’t comin’ home to you with flowers every night, I had to take care of some other shit. I mean Jesus Christ do you ever think about anyone but yourself?”

Your eyes meet the earth again, watching the way your calves flexed and unflexed, the crease and re-crease of your sneakers.

“You’ve been at the club, Ed,” you murmur quietly, “So you’re not so innocent either.”

“At the club?!” he balks, “You mean sellin’ drugs at the club?”

Your eyes burn with tears because he’s not hearing you, “You’re n-not just selling at the club. The girls’ve been showing me p-pictures. You’ve been hooking up there long before I started seeing Bryan.”

He lights another cigarette, letting the smoke billow out into your face, “So his name’s Bryan, huh? Okay.”

He takes a step toward you, sticks and wet grass crunching under his boots, “And what’s so great about Bryan, baby?”

You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of his looming presence, how big he can make himself seem when he’s angry. He takes another crunching step towards you, only a foot between the ends of your sneakers and the tips of his Docs. You feel the smoke of his next drag kiss your face again, hear his arms cross over his t-shirt.

“You forget how to talk, princess?” he bites. You shake your head no, matching his posture by crossing your arms over your chest. The straps of your tank top bite at your shoulders uner your jacket when you do, your bra straps pulling along with them.

“He cares,” you say quietly, “He’s not…he’s not giving me up to go, I don’t know, have strippers dance on him so he can make a buck at a bar.”

“He cares? Is that what you call it?” Eddie laughs bitterly, “So it wasn’t me caring about you when you’d call me every night from your dorm? Not me helpin’ watch your little brother when you needed to take an extra shift or two? Helping your mom with her errands? It’s not me caring when we’d drive out to the dunes cause you wanted to put your toes in the sand – you know how much money I lost that day?”

Your eyes pool with tears when you remember that day, he’d tossed his phone in the trunk. Nothin’s as important as bein’ with my girl, baby.

“Buying you a new TV for Beau so he can play video games in his room and not bother your dad? Fuck, takin’ your dad out to lunch so we can talk about the future I want with you? But I don’t fuckin’ care? Askin’ him your ring size but I don’t fuckin’ care?!” his voice raises with every sentence.

You wince when he shouts, not expecting the anger to be so explosive. His pupils are blown, but that was starting to become more expected than before. He shakes his head, "You know what, babe? You're right. I don't fuckin' care. I don't fuckin' need you." Eddie tosses his cigarette to his feet, stomping it out. "Plenty of other pussy to keep me occupied, right?" he asks, head tilting when he looks at you, "Since that's who I am, huh? Didn't bother to ask me if I was fuckin' around did you?"

"S'not like you'd tell me the truth," you argue back quietly, voice meek while you hold back your tears. "Pffft," he scoffs, "Better watch that attitude on you, girl. You're gonna run that mouth to the wrong person one day. Not every guy is like me."

He crunches back toward the van, lingering his eyes on you while he stands at the open door on the drivers side. His face is pale in the light of the moon, eyes aching for you to say something. Almost yearning before he hardens again. "Bryan can pick you up, right?"

Four-ish/Three-ish Years Ago

Bry asked you to be his girlfriend two weeks after your fight with Eddie. Pulled out all the stops with that union money; good dinners, nights out on the town, all the boys knew how to do was drink beer and party. You finally started to understand WWE in a way you weren't sure you were supposed to, but it was as fun as it was ridiculous. Boys nights became boys nights plus you, the crowd favorite. Pulled in for soft kisses on football Sundays and baseball games, borrowed jackets if it got chilly. Eddie never let you wear his jacket. After a month you were sure that you'd made the right decision. The soft way he looked at you, his sandy hair, the callouses on his hands from a hard day of work. He was a good boy, good enough that Sandra made sure to give them discounts every time him and his friends came in. You only thought about Eddie when you'd run into him or that crew in town, cigarette between his full lips and a snarl to match.

Eddie didn't like to be made a fool of the way you'd made a fool of him. After another month, you barely thought about him anymore -- you had other things to worry about.

Bliss has its costs.

The first time Bryan hit you it was a blip in time, followed by a water fall of apologies. Before you noticed how much beer he was backing when he was out with the guys, why he started off so nice. You never saw him after he got too drunk -- angry and ruddy in the face. Stumbling into his apartment where you'd be there waiting for him. He stopped liking it when you'd joke around with his friends. He stopped liking it when you'd come to boys nights. He stopped letting you listen to your favorite songs in the car.

But when he was good, he was so, so good.

When he was bad, he was horrid.

Eventually, your parents noticed that you stopped coming around. You never showed up at the shop, stopped bringing Beau to and from camp and school. Your mama never saw you, you hardly came home. Your daddy would text you in the morning and ask if you’d be in the diner that night to get a glimpse of you. Bryan would snatch your phone at every incessant call.

“Why do your folks wanna talk to you all the time?” he’d ask, “Did you tell ‘em you wanna leave?”

You got so many bouquets over the next five months you could open a flower shop or a funeral service. Either way, they were more often than not. The 'sorry's' never stopped coming and the bruising started to match. You went through concealer like the diner went through cooking grease -- opting to start wearing readers to work to detract from the caked up product on your cheeks, by your lips, on your throat. But no matter how bad it got your heart would soar at his smile, at his gentle touch, at the softness of his kiss. You knew now why it was so hard for all those other women to leave.

You started hearing stories about Eddie -- more erratic than he was before but somehow more beloved around his part of town. A violent type of Robinhood that you didn't want to cross. Gareth came by the diner one night when you had finally gone in, sitting across from you with a smile while you caught up on a slow Tuesday. Told you all about it, about him, about what was new with the guys. It felt nice, like old times -- a fondness in your chest blooming when you watched him leave.

Two days later, your phone buzzed in the darkness of Bryan's apartment -- RESTRICTED popping up on the screen. You didn't have to guess who it was; Gareth wasn't coming in for a late dinner. He was doing rounds. He was keeping tabs on you.

Bryan had passed out on the couch hours ago, the deep steadiness of his snoring echoing through the living room. You reach for your phone, tip-toeing to the back porch while you consider denying the call -- but you know he'll just keep calling. He hates being left in the dark.

You answer shakily, “Hello?”

“Where are you?” you hear him ask in a low voice, menacing, “Sandra told me what’s goin’ on. Where are you? Now.”

“Nothing’s goin’ on, Ed,” you say quietly.

“If nothings goin’ on then why’re you whisperin’, hm? You keepin’ quiet for what?” he challenges, “Are you at his house?”

“I’m not telling you where I am.” “You think I won’t find you? I got eyes all over this place,” his laughs, “You don’t think if I tell Sandra I’m comin’ to save your ass she won’t give me your schedule?”

“There’s a reason she doesn’t give it out to you,” you hiss, “It’s literally illegal. Can you stop your fuckin’ hero shit? You think you’re any better?”

“Hero shit?” he growls, “Your mama keeps calling me crying on the phone asking if I’d seen or heard from you at all. Your daddy hasn’t slept in days thinking maybe this asshole finally snapped your fuckin’ neck. You keep skippin’ out on shifts at the diner and you wanna shit on me for tryna help? Fuck outta here.”

“I’m fine,” you say through gritted teeth, “Stop. Calling.”

“And yeah, sweetheart, I do think I’m better,” his voice raises, blaring through the receiver, “When’d you ever hear that I’m beating on the bitches I take home? Who am I beating on? Don’t make shit up just ‘cause you wanna be stubborn.”

"Fuck off," you hiss. "Why did Gareth tell me you got bruisin' everywhere, hm? Why did Sandra stop me the other night at Melvald's to tell me to call you? I know she doesn't like me, so it must be serious -- right?" he challenges.

"I have it under control," you growl. "Yeah?" his voice lilts, argumentative and ready to go, "Well fu--" "Who're you talkin' to?"

Bryan takes your phone before you can answer.

When you show up to your shift the next day Sandra can barely recognize you, tears welling up in her eyes when you come in the door.

You do your best not to meet her gaze, simply nodding when she asks 'Was it him?'

You woke up late, knowing you couldn't miss another day or the owner would fire you -- already on probation for all the work you've missed. Didn't have a chance to shower let alone do your makeup, not that you could bare to touch some of it.

The morning is slow, she let's you sit in the back and cry it out to Paul while he flips burgers and flap jacks on the grill. You prep, chopping up whatever he could have you chop, anything to keep you back with him unless Bryan thought it was a good time to show up with his buddies.

He passes you a lemonade and two Advil at noon, winking in the way grandfather's do when they know you've had a bad day.

"Here ya go, sugar," he smiles. You smile back, igorning the sting of the tear in your lip reopening at the gesture.

"Thanks, Paul."

The bell dings during another slow period and you smell Camels before you catch a familiar whiff of Creed Aventus.

"She's in the back," you hear Sandra mutter through the server window.

“Oh, girl, what did he do to you?” You know that smoky voice anywhere, it pours like ice down your back. “You can’t be here,” you shake your head, stepping away while he steps closer to you.

“Hey, look,” he starts with his hands up, soft and gentle, “Look, look. Sandra called me, I’m just coming to pick you up.”

“I have to be here,” you assure, “I can't leave early, he's gonna know.” “That’s fine,” Eddie shrugs, “I’ll tell him you’re comin’ with me.”

You shake your head no, “It’s fine Ed, I can handle this. Please just go home.”

“I’m not doin’ this with you,” he shakes his head in response, gruffer this time, “This isn’t for me. Your folks, they – they miss you. Beau misses you. Asks me if I’ve seen you every time he’s at the shop. I can’t be lyin’ to Beau like that. Don’t you miss him? Don’t you miss your folks?”

Your lower lip wobbles when you think about Beau, all the basketball games you missed for his youth league. The voicemails of him begging you to come.

"C'mon, Sandra said it's okay if you dip out early," he says, ecouraging you with caution -- like you're a feral cat about to run away, "Come with me, I'll take you back to his so we can get your stuff." "Eddie please," you beg, "Please don't get involved -- he'll get the cops on your back I --" "I'm not worried about cops," he chuckles, a knowing smirk flickering on his lips, "Get your jacket, come get in the van." "I can't..." you urge again, throat tight with a threatening cry. You turn around, back to your chopping, drowning out the blood pumping in your ears with the beat of the knife.

"You can, c'mon." You ignore him, feeling his eyes on you, narrowing down to burn holes in the back of your skull. He doesn't have the same patience he used to. You hear his soft sigh, the cross and uncross of his leather jacket, the tinkling of his chains and hardware.

"Baby..."

The dam breaks as his smooth honey voice; it had been so long since someone had called you that. Said it like that, so low and pretty, like he means it. You let out a choked sob when you feel his palm slide over your back and around your shoulder.

"Oh, baby, baby, come here," he whispers, pulling you into him while you fall apart. Tears streaming over the bruises on your cheek bone, the tear in your lip, over your jaw.

"Let's go get your stuff, okay?" he asks, rubbing your back against the polyester of your work dress -- you got a new one in a size too big when Bryan said he didn't like how your old one fit, "Come on, let's go get in my car."

"Prince of the trailer park," Bryan grits toward Ed when he knocks on the door, "To what do I owe this white trash surprise?" "Comin' to get her stuff," he respons nonchalantly, "You gonna let me in or what?"

"Her stuff?" Bryan asks, sick smirk sliding over his face, bleary eyes peering into the van parked by the sidewalk. "What's she tellin' you?" he asks, arms crossed over his white tee, freckled arms flashing against the fabric.

"Nothin'," Ed shakes his head, "Just comin' to get her stuff." Bryan takes a step forward and that's all it takes to get Ed ready to go, arm out to keep his distance, to keep himself between your boyfriend and the van.

“I’m not playin’ around today, man,” Eddie warns, “Let me go grab her stuff and this doesn’t have to be a problem.”

“Problem? You’re ninety pounds soakin’ wet,” Bryan laughs, his couple inches on Eddie helping to bore over him, “What’s she telling you?”

“She hasn’t had to tell me anything,” Ed repeats, “S’all over her face. You’re all over her fuckin’ face man, now let me in the door before I do something you don’t like.”

Bryan lunges, but he’s not quick enough, the soft click of a gun cocking puts him back at attention. “My uncle did two tours, Bry, you think I don’t know my way around a trigger?” Eddie smirks. You watch from the van, horrified, heart racing when you see the black metal gleam in broad daylight. Ignoring Eddie’s demands to stay in the car you throw open the door and run to the sidewalk.

“What the fuck, Ed?” you rasp out, voice heavy with your earlier cry, “Put that shit away.”

Bryan catches your eye, looking at you with a fuming rage, “This is all you, huh?”

“No, it’s not – I didn’t say anything,” you plead up at him, “I promise.”

“Listen pal,” Eddie continues, another step forward while his heavy boot finds its way over the door frame, “We can make this real easy if you let me.”

They bark at each other like rabid dogs when the doors close behind the three of you, a barrage of insults from Bryan’s liquor soaked mouth. You grit your teeth, jaw tight while you decide what’s worth it to keep and what’s not. Your eyes glaze over with tears and the whirl of the place around you.

When did Eddie start carrying a gun?

When you’ve fit as much as you can in your duffle you make your way towards the door; hearing Eddie’s low growl of the threat when Bryan makes it way over to you.

“If you think for one second you’re gonna see or hear from her again then I promise you, you are sorely mistaken,” he mutters, the scrape of metal on metal rings in your ears when his rings slide over the short barrel.

“If I remember correctly, you’re not around too to find out are you?” Bryan bites back.

Eddie chuckles smugly, a tight pulled smile across his face with his dimples deep on his cheeks, “I got eyes on every corner, chief. Don’t test me.”

“We’ll see about that, huh Munson?” Bryan nods, eyes settling on Eddie’s knuckles – another fresh cross tattoo blazoned across pale skin.

“We won’t see about shit,” Eddie nods back, “I always keep my promises.”

He takes you to his place -- his uncle in a nice little apartment in the city now so the trailer's his. It looks the part, new repairs and updates the other people in the park couldn't believe when he started making them. You fret and worry the whole way there, not looking at him once for the ride, not even a thank you.

"He won't come to mine," Eddie soothes in the car, "I got a friend outside your folks place, too."

"Mhm," you nod, watching the town woosh by while he presses on the gas, two turns and it's just trees lining the street.

"You're okay," he says when he pulls in, hopping out to open your door from the otherside, "C'mere."

You follow him in, collapsing on his bed the moment you make it into his room. His sheets are fresh, they smell like him on his side, pillow laced with a few strands of his wavy hair.

"You know you're the only one I ever let in my bed," he says softly, kicking his boots off in line with his other shoes. "Hmm," you hum, too despondent to reply.

"Scooch," he mumbles, warm palm pushing gently at your arm. You make room for him, hearing his jacket slide off and his belt get undone. If it was a year and some change ago the sound would've sent your reeling with need, now it just sounds hollow.

He slides in next to you, encouraging you to flip over so he can see you. You haven't looked in those soft brown eyes in a while, it almost hurts. His brows furrow and then soften, yearning the way they did before he left you by the lake.

"You hurtin'?" he asks, hand reaching up to run over your hair, "Can I get you something?"

"I took some Advil at work," you answer, the ache at a dull thud in your face. Exhaustion starts to overtake you while you sink into his mattress, the first time you've felt safe in months.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, thumb sliding feather light over the bruise on your cheek bone.

"Didn't want you to be right," you croak out. "Sounds like you," you smiles back. He comes in closer, arm snaking around you like he used to.

"I missed you," he whispers, "All the time."

Your eyes water, "Don't...don't do that."

"Baby, I'm being honest," he urges, "Couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You don't mean that," you sniffle, your heart sinking while he pours out more confessions.

"Of course I mean it," he says, looking at you with desperation behind his gaze. He leans in slow, warm lips brushing yours, careful not to press to hard on the swollen corner of yours. You relent, letting him kiss you, letting his hands roam over your waist and push you in from between your shoulder blades.

"Didn't you miss me?" he asks. The pit in your stomach knows that you didn't -- you didn't miss him breaking off dates, you didn't miss the ignored calls, you didn't miss him fucking off for who knows how long. You didn't miss finding lipgloss in his car, hair strands that weren't yours.

But you missed this. The way it feels to be told that you're the only one allowed in his bed. The only one he sends someone to keep tabs on. The only one he misses.

You nod, your body moving this time to get close to him.

"I'd never hurt you like that," he mumbles against your lips, "Not my baby. Not my girl."

He holds your eyes in his when he puts you gently on your back, gingerly pulling off your diner dress. He presses kisses down your neck, across your chest.

"Let me make you feel special," he says down at you, light shining behind his head like a halo, "Let me show you how special you are."

He still knows your body like he wrote the schematics for it, pulling soft needy moans out of you like a never ending string of chords he's always known how to play. You almost forget the thumping pain in your head, peppered in gentle kisses at every wince. 'I love you' weighing heavy on his tongue when he keeps eye contact, but never passing his lips. Never passing yours. Maybe neither of you have to say it.

You both settle afterwards, two rounds have pushed you past the point of exhaustion -- fast sleep in his arms after a bottle of water and two more Advil out of the palm of his hand.

You wake up in darkness, a sea of dark blue and black with a soft green glow of his side table clock. A little past midnight.

Your head pounds, dehydrated from all the crying. You search for your phone in the blankets -- noticing the bed next to you is empty while doing so. You peer over the mattress, no light coming in from under the door.

"Ed?" you call out, but no one responds. You sigh, finally finding your phone somwhere under your hip. Your inner thighs ache from having his hips slam into them hours before, hips in their full extension while he pushed into you deeper and deeper.

274 missed calls. All from Bryan.

Your blood runs cold, looking out the window to see Eddie's van missing. A car you don't recognize sits a trailer away, humming with muffled music, a shadowed figure inside behind a cloud of smoke. A gentle moment of ease flits through you -- at least someone was looking out.

i just woke up, where are you? who's the guy outside?

You wait for a bit, going through your socials to make sure Bryan is blocked on everything. You delete all the messages, not bothering to read them so your fear doesn't spike again.

Your phone buzzes.

i'm out.

You swallow, hoping he's not making good on any promises -- not after that show earlier this afternoon. But you don't have to wonder past the next scroll on Instagram.

Grainy with a filter is a photo posted 45 minutes ago from a friend of a friend, a bottle girl at the club that all the boys love the most. With two girls on each thigh there sits Eddie in a VIP back room, laughing at someone in the background -- whiskey neat in one hand, cigarette in the other. The caption makes your heart hammer --

'our king on his throne. ♡'

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #dark!eddie munson #dark eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #modern!eddie munson #modern eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction

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ubescoups · 3 months

Text

la la lost you

you both know it ended a long time ago. you were just scared to admit it.

pairing: seungcheol x oc

tags: angst, exes, talks of wedding, in denial, hurt

author's note: this piece is commissioned from twitter

...

“I’ll go now.”

You look at Seungcheol for the last time, trying to memorize the face of the man you used to call yours for the past four years. He’s heading east, trying his luck at the concrete jungle.

He kisses your forehead. You let his lips linger on it for some more, knowing that he will never be back in your life once he turns to the door. He stares into your eyes with a kind smile on his lips.

“Take care, will you? I won’t be around anymore to remind you to eat on time,” he says softly.

You only nod, knowing that even a single squeak from you would send you to tears.

This was never intended to end this way.

You have always imagined a grand wedding with Seungcheol in your seventh year together.

Seven

That was your magic number. Seven years was your limit for long-term relationships. Whenever you hear the number seven, you hear the clanging of the wedding bells as you envision the long trail attached to your ivory-white wedding gown. At the end of the altar, you see Seungcheol in a black tuxedo, and his hair is long enough to cover the back of his neck. His eyes are wet with tears, joy evident on his face as he sees the woman he’s been with for seven years.

Then you snap out of it.

“Goodbye, Alexa,” Seungcheol mutters with reverence.

“Bye,” you reply, avoiding his gaze this time.

Where did it go wrong with us, Seungcheol?

His back is finally facing you as he walks out the door.

thud

Out he goes from your life as his figure disappears after he closes the door. You grab the back of the sofa for support as you cover your mouth to muffle the sobs wracking your body.

It’s for the good, but why does it still hurt?

It started when his kisses didn’t make your heart flutter anymore. Your mother told you it’s normal for couples to lose the feelings they used to have for each other as time passes. She said those feelings are usually replaced with more profound respect and love that isn’t measured by how one can show it superficially.

Yet, deep down, the thought of you and Seungcheol falling out of love lingers like the dark shadows in the night, disguising itself as newfound comfortability and calmness.

The nights when you would turn your backs away from each other increased, hugging pillows to seek comfort. You thought, “We are both just tired from work.” You were telling yourself that, ignoring the arising feeling that would get caught in your throat, making you cough painfully as it would make you feel suffocated.

You would fall asleep at night as you felt tiredness consume your body. You would wake up in dreamland, tossing and turning to see a different man beside you. You did not recognize him anymore. That wasn’t your Seungcheol. Consumed by your dream, you would sit up during the wee hours of the morning, looking at your snoozing lover—relieved would be an understatement to see his face upon waking up from that recurring dream.

Are you still my Seungcheol?”

You were afraid to answer your question. Maybe it’s because you have gotten used to his existence, or you were starting to realize the answer deep down. You knew you were not yet ready, still holding on to the hope that maybe your mother was right.

“Hey,” he smiled as he felt your lips on his neck the morning after a night of interrupted sleep caused by that recurring dream.

“Can I lay my head on your chest?” You asked.

He nodded and welcomed your body with his arms as you laid your head on his toned chest. You stayed in his arms, hoping it would prove you wrong.

“Nothing is changing,” you assured yourself, subconsciously tightening your hold on your lover.

It was as if holding on to him would help you convince yourself.

“Alexa,” Seungcheol called out.

“I love you. I hope you know that,” you said, looking up to see his face.

He only nodded.

You gave him a small smile and stayed there for a while.

“Will marriage solve this worry of mine?” You asked Lara, your closest friend.

She shook her head as you both lay on your living room carpet one afternoon. You poured your heart out to her, hoping that your best friend would be able to assure you.

Seven years was just your limit. If you and Seungcheol were really sure of each other, he could’ve married you in a heartbeat.

“Your mom could be right, you know?” She trailed.

“But?” You asked.

“Seungcheol has the answer. You will have to ask him, Alexa,” she finished.

You were afraid to do so. You didn’t know what was happening in your lovely boyfriend’s mind.

“Do you still love me?”

If you asked that question a year ago, you know Seungcheol would answer yes naturally, as if his tongue was created to give that answer smoothly with the roll of it. Yet, when Lara brought it up almost two months ago, you didn’t know anymore. You were unsure and scared to hear Seungcheol’s answer.

Why did it become so difficult to be sure of something you used to have confidence in?

You used to be sure.

Alexa and Seungcheol forever, right?

Whatever happened to that love?

The answers to your many questions came unexpectedly in the form of a velvet box collecting dust on top of your cabinet.

Your weary mind couldn’t process anything you were trying to feed it to assure yourself. You decided to clean the master bedroom of your shared apartment with Seungcheol. You decided to do general cleaning that day. It was something your mind wanted to keep off from the things you were worrying about.

You opened the box, and there was a diamond ring, a princess cut, to be specific. It was the heirloom ring passed down by the Chois to the next family bride for each generation.

“Alexa?” Seungcheol called out.

You were frozen in place like a deer in headlights. You felt like running.

“You were not supposed to see that,” he sighed, dismay evident.

“Since when did you have this?” You asked.

“Since Pops’ birthday,” he replied.

He was holding on to the ring for almost a year.

“You were holding back,” you answered.

He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to find the right words to say. Silence flooded the room, and you were trying to hold your breath as if under that water and trying not to drown. You handed him the box and just sat beside him. The sinking of the bed as you sat on it felt dizzying. You just had a confirmation of your fears.

“Did I do you wrong?” You asked.

He shook his head.

“You have always been wonderful, Alexa,” he answered.

“Why were you holding on to that goddamn ring?” You croaked, fighting the sobs that were arising from your chest to your throat.

“Life suddenly started for me, Alexa,” he told you.

“I thought my life would end with me marrying you and having a big family with you like what Pops did, but the band happened. I didn’t know that a reunion with the old band I had back in high school would give me an opportunity of a lifetime,” he continued.

You looked at him, betrayed.

The band. Seungcheol was a vocalist and guitarist for an alternative band in high school. He used to boast that to you, telling stories of how he was playing with them at bars, events, etc.

“End?” You shot.

“You think your life will end when you finally marry me?” You asked.

“It’s not what I’m saying, baby,” he sighed.

“Your own words are betraying you, Cheol. Don’t call me baby, too. This conversation will not end until you finally tell me what’s on your mind,” you told him.

He went silent once again. For a while, you were just sitting quietly. You wiped your eyes and your tear-stained cheek as you wept quietly. You could not believe the words that came out of his mouth.

“When our performance from the homecoming went viral, and Jihoon reached out to us, I suddenly felt alive. It was just like the old times again. I felt free from all of my constant worries,” he explained.

“You felt free from me as well,” you concluded.

He shook his head.

“When Pops handed me the ring, I realized what was coming for me. I have to marry you. I have to make sure you will have a promising future with me. I suddenly realized I was still behind on things I needed to take on for us to have a comfortable life,” he told you.

You were lost for words, so you let him speak his mind, hoping to hear that he still loved you.

“Those worries would keep me up at night, Alexa. Then the band happened. I got excited when I saw the comments online, especially from those who used to watch us back then. I realized that I do not have one ending. I am still the one who gets to decide on my future. Life suddenly became exciting for me,” he said.

You were a witness to that sudden change in his aura. When the reunion happened, and the invitations to play at events started, you saw how joyous he was. It just didn’t occur to you that he was burdened with the future with you that everyone pictured for the both of you.

“The future with me felt like a chore,” you pointed out.

He cried softly, muttering apologies.

“Do you still love me?” You asked.

“I do,” he cooed softly, holding your hand to kiss it as the tears flowed down his cheeks.

“I just don’t know where we stand anymore,” he admitted.

You sobbed and pulled away your hand.

“You can’t do this to me, Cheol,” you said.

He apologized again, crying. Your questions finally had their answers, and none of them were the things you wanted to hear but the confirmations to your fears instead.

“The band’s flying out to New York in a month,” he told you.

“Alright, let’s break up on the day you leave,” you replied.

“Alexa,” he trailed.

“I do not want to hold you back, Cheol. I can’t put my life on hold for you as well. I want to get married to someone who is sure of me or doesn’t think that the future with me is a responsibility,” you told him.

“We are partners, Seungcheol. Our future together is a collaboration for me. I see us building that future together, hand in hand. We are equal. Your problem is mine as well. Why do you think of it like I would only sit on the corner and watch you do anything?” You ranted, tears falling continuously.

“I was raised to be like that, Alexa,” he answered.

You only shake your head.

“When do you leave for New York?” You asked again.

“On the 30th of June,” he replied.

You nodded.

“When you leave on that day, we’ll be done. Don’t hold yourself back for me. You deserve to be happy,” you tell him.

After that day, it was as if life was playing a cruel joke on you. In everyone’s eyes, you were still Alexa and Seungcheol, the ever-perfect couple with a happy ending on the end of the horizon. Things started reminding you of what you would have if things had never changed.

You almost cried when you saw Seungcheol holding your niece in his arms during a family dinner. It was as if you were reminded of what could have been. You always saw Seungcheol as a doting father to a daughter who got his eyes and lips and always cried for him. You always imagined him chuckling to his wailing princess, shushing her little sobs with the assurance that he’s with her always, in all ways.

“I dreamt of the future with enthusiasm,” you told him as you lay on the bed you shared.

“I did, too,” he admitted.

“What was the future you always pictured?” You asked.

“Our first child would be a boy. He adores you the way I do and would cry for you. In my head, he’s my best friend. I imagined him running to me after a long day at work. His grubby, little hands would reach for my face to kiss my cheek. His hands are dirty because he enjoyed the snack you gave him, so he could wait a little bit longer for the dinner so we could all eat together,” he narrated with a slight smile.

“It was so vivid,” you told him.

“I know. I was so sure of you, Alexa,” he said.

“Was,” you repeated.

“Sorry,” he quietly said.

Was

The word repeated on your head over and over again like a dagger being pressed deeper into your chest. You breathed deeply and cried yourself to sleep, wishing that the pain would finally go away. Yet, it won’t. Instead, you realized Seungcheol’s version of your future differed from yours. It was evident with how you pictured your kids. Seungcheol envisioned you as a stay-at-home mother. Though you love the idea of being focused on your kids, you know in your heart that you want to identify as something else aside from being a mother. You want to continue with career aspirations and have money for yourself. Your mother taught you that when she was still separated from your father.

Sleep didn’t come to you quickly as you counted off the days before Seungcheol left for New York. You were racking your brain, trying to understand when you felt the relationship was about to end.

Maybe you were also changing your mind about the future with Seungcheol, and the seven-year limit was your safety net.

“Did I rely on that limit to distract me from the fact that that future might never even happen?”

You knew it wasn’t just him who was ready to jump from this sinking ship. You were just in denial because you were already accustomed to thinking it would be him in the end always.

Were you just like Seungcheol, who saw it but did not look at it as one should when deeply in love?

Did your relationship end a few months ago, and you were both cowards to admit it?

You hug your knees to the floor, crying after Seungcheol finally walks out the door. There is no turning back now. You were the one who decided on this. When he leaves for New York, he leaves everything about you and him as well.

While you understand that this breakup was happening before you both realized it, the pain remains. It still feels like the half of you is torn and tossed into the ocean of flames. You still want to scream your head off.

Because you know that nothing is more painful than living with the fact that you have wasted years of your life with someone who doesn’t see the end of it with you, nothing is more hurtful than living out the remaining days of a shared relationship that should have ended with wedding bells and a kiss after the priest said so. Yet, this is your reality now.

Seungcheol will be in New York riding subways and taxi cabs going places when you have always imagined him driving the family car with you in the front seat as your kids sat in the back sleepily as the drives always lull them to dreamland.

You will always feel cold in San Francisco but never freezing like he would when the cruel winter visits New York. You think of how whiny he gets when cold, especially when the heat packs on his coat and his hands don’t warm him enough.

You will start your life again with half of you still in the thoughts of him out there without you. You love him, that’s for sure, but with everything that has happened for the past few months, you know that it’s for the best that you won’t be marrying him.

You just know that your mother was wrong.

You did not love him any deeper. Being deeply in love doesn’t equate with having lesser affection for someone you’ve been with for a long time. It’s not maturity or having profound reverence towards your partner.

You fell out of love with Seungcheol, and he was the same as you.

You were in denial, and he was scared to tell you the truth as he was used to the idea of you beside him.

You lie down on the carpet of the living room like you always do, letting the new reality of being alone in this apartment you used to share with someone you called the love of your life for four years. Everything is still here except his things. It’s complete and decorated, but it’s half empty in your head.

You repeatedly remind yourself that it’s the only right thing to do, that it’s best to be free of him before you waste more of your years for nothing. Yet, you’re only a mere mortal dealing with a pain so unbearable that you wallow and weep.

You just ended a relationship you were once sure of, and even though you have given yourself a month to face the ending of your greatest love story, it did not brace you from the impact of the pain it’s giving you now.

You close your eyes and pray to the god you used to believe in, wishing he’s there and merciful enough to take away the pain that you’re feeling—wishing for him to fast forward to the days when you won’t feel this pain anymore. You never want to remember this feeling again.

You wish never to experience the pain of being fully aware that you’re losing someone who has gotten half of you.

#scoups #seventeen #angst #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seventeen seungcheol #svt scoups

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weirdsht · 1 month

Text

Disillusioned 9 . Nothing More, Nothing Less (2)

a/n: ngl i really want for reader to start calling rosalyn as big sis but idk if i should use noona or unnie... why can't there just be a gender-neutral honorific for older siblings

tags: everyone is a gossip girl, hans the no 1 reader supporter, feelings in progress

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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All good things must come to an end.

That’s the truth that Cale tries to deny. However, it’s something he must face because he is set to go back to the Jungle to heal the fake holy maiden.

And that means leaving _____ behind.

Not that it matters much, in Cale’s opinion, it’s just that leaving _____ made him realise that he must work again.

Nothing more, nothing less.

"She is reaching the intermediate stages, but she is not there yet. However, it is still dangerous."

Cale felt a momentary relief that he left _____ back at the villa, he felt like he made the right decision. He quickly shivered at his line of thought.

'Why did I think that? Am I actually concerned? No, I'm just glad there are less troublesome things to think of.'

The thought left as fast as it entered Cale's mind as he shifted his focus back to the task at hand, and that was saving the swordmaster, Hannah.

At the underground villa.

The healer that occupied Cale’s thoughts is having a friendly conversation with Hans.

Honestly, it's more like Hans keeps asking questions, and _____ just willingly answers. Like a one-sided game of 20 questions.

“Young master _____, why did you agree to heal young master Cale back at the capital?”

“Hans I told you, I’m not a noble anymore so it’s inappropriate to refer to me as young master… but regarding your question, honestly aside from me never refusing to heal someone, it was also because Tasha-nim was the one who asked me to heal Cale-nim.”

Maes, who’s taking a short break from training with Lock, glanced at the two people talking and shook his head. Hans has been talking nonstop ever since Cale left the villa.

“Young master _____ is a young master so as a butler I must refer to you as young master.”

The young wolf could see _____ dazedly nod at the deputy butler’s confusing but logical (? Even Maes isn’t sure) argument.

“However young master, when you and young master Cale met again did you immediately know that you were going to be together?”

The wording used was… weird, but it’s not like Maes has a say since his only eavesdropping.

“You mean teaming up together? Honestly no, there are already so many capable people around him.”

“But young master _____ is special!”

Maes could see _____ stop eating the caramel bar Beacrox served to give Hans a confused stare. The deputy butler ignored the look and continued on his agenda.

“Anyways! The young master and you are quite close nowadays, right? Do you enjoy spending time with him?”

Ah, there it is— the million gallons question.

From the start of the conversation, the young boy knew what Hans’ goal was. Not only he, but everyone in the villa knew the deputy butler was trying to gauge the relationship between the two.

The wolf could only smile as he silently wished the healer to survive Hans’ interrogation.

“Really? I didn’t really notice. However, now that you mention I’ve been spending almost every day with the young master.”

_____ laughed awkwardly.

“I enjoy his company. Back when I was working for the public as a healer I never really had the chance to talk to someone as leisurely as I do with him. Uhm don’t get me wrong, that was also very rewarding. Nonetheless, the tranquil moments I spent with the young master are very special.”

After hearing the healer’s answer Maes went back to training. In the corner of his eyes, the other people that sneakily gathered within hearing range also dispersed.

In one corner he could see the two kittens ‘napping’ (Maes saw their ears twitch the moment Hans asked the golden question). Rosalyn is ‘talking’ to Choi Han about some sort of energising potion (they haven’t said anything for the past 5 minutes). Beacrox is ‘fixing’ a wheel on the food cart (Maes was most definitely sure that cart was brand new, he heard it was ordered by the countess herself so there’s no way it’s broken already).

Safe to say that everyone in the villa is curious about the young master’s love life.

The deputy butler and the healer continued talking. Their topics vary but somehow Hans always managed to circle it back to Cale.

Maes isn’t sure if his amazed or scared at the deputy butler’s abilities.

Contrary to what everyone else thinks, Hans isn’t asking simply because his curious.

Sure he is, but there’s another reason he is inquiring this much.

He has a duty to report to the count about the young master. If it looks like the young master is on the path of romance then surely it’s his job to update the parents on the matter.

That and he must vouch for _____.

Not that he thinks the healer will have a hard time getting the Henituse’s approval.

The count already knows of their circumstance (Cale had informed him when they went back to the castle a while ago), they are technically still noble, and their reputation back then was far from bad.

But on the off chance they didn’t approve of _____…

Hans vows to do his best to make them give their approval.

Is the deputy butler getting ahead of himself? Oh definitely.

Does he know he is? Oh definitely.

Will he stop? Oh, definitely not.

It certainly did not help Hans’ delusions when Cale immediately looked for _____ as soon as he arrived even when the healer was at the very back.

When Cale got home he came back with new additions to their group. _____ didn’t know who these twins were, but the power of the Sun God could be felt from them.

The Medicus was both astonished and confused. Astonished because of the holy powers the man is emitting. Confused because the woman has both light and dark attributes.

_____ decides to not question it.

Nevertheless, that night Cale found himself explaining everything to the healer. He explained everything from their encounter at Hais to what happened in the Jungle. He really has no reason to do so. He barely explains unnecessary things to his people, so he can't understand why he's doing the opposite for _____.

But he can't deny the relief he feels when he sees the healer nod in understanding.

Maybe it was because he felt responsible. After all, all three of them have abilities related to the Sun God.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The weeks after that were lenient on the redhead’s schedule. He spends his days watching everyone train with _____ by his side. Sometimes he lazes around the marble floors with _____. Every so often he has tea with _____.

At this point, the only time the two are separated is when they have to go to their respective rooms to sleep.

That and when Cale had to attend the alliance meeting. However, immediately after he went to seek out the healer. Complaining about how he had to be surrounded by so many vicious people for hours on end, and how fresh air is always the best.

_____’s confused look tells everyone that they didn’t know they were the ‘fresh air’ Cale was talking about.

Not that they need to know for now. They have a lot of time. Even if they don't, everyone in that villa will make sure they do.

The two spent the rest of the summer and the start of fall spending more time with each other.

Some days they would chat, on others they would simply lounge around and bask in each other's presence. This does not go past the observant eyes of everyone else in the underground villa, and all of them are happy to see Cale finally being close to someone his age.

But of course, every peaceful moment must reach an end.

This time that ends manifested itself when Toonka updated Cale about the war going on between the empire and the Whipper kingdom.

58 notes · View notes

justmeinadaze · 6 months

Text

Finally/Beautiful Stranger (Steddie X You)

A/N: Part of this AU, you don't have to have read the others to understand but it helps!

Also, please feel free to donate or buy me a coffee. Anything helps but of course you don't have to. I will still love you :)

Warnings: Former Addicts Steddie X Fem Y/N, SMUT, slight spanking, dirty talk, very light DOM dynamics touched on, mentions of lose of virginity (as well as the pain that comes along with the first time), FLUFF, These three people love each other very much and all three are happier compared to previous chapters. The talk about their new lives and careers with pride <3.

ANGST, dark themes!! of addiction and recovering addicts explored. Not new for this series but again this one is much lighter than the others. They both discussing cravings and Eddie having a slip a few months prior. Steve works at a center with children of addicts and one boy has a similar situation to Y/N's accident so she helps him through that.

The boys mention regrets including being aggressive with the reader verbally and sometimes physically when they weren't sober so DOMESTIC ABUSE TRIGGER.

There are flashbacks of them as kids so mentions of Eddie and Steve dealing with their toxic dads.

I think that's it! As always go carefully in this AU and if you choose not to read that is ok. I will still love you!

Word Count: 8358

1974

You winced as you landed back first on to the gravel underneath where you had fallen from the jungle gym.

“Oh wow! Are you okay?!” A set of hands gripped your biceps as they helped you get to your feet. “You have some stuff on your dress. Let me…” The boy’s voice trailed off as you felt him dust off the nature that stuck to your outfit.

“Thank you.”, you mumbled as you turned to meet your hero, coming face to face with honey brown eyes and a comforting smile.

“You’re welcome. Are you alright? Do you need to go to the nurse or…?”

“No. I think I’m okay. My, uh, back broke my fall.” You grin when he laughs. “I’m Y/N.”

“Steve.”

“Harrington?”

“Um, yeah?”

“No! Don’t mean to sound mean. The girls in my class think you’re cute. They never shut up about you.”

The boy laughs harder and your grin grows at the sight of his scrunched nose.

“I have no idea why. I’m not that great.”

“I don’t know. I mean…I think you are.” Steve blushes at your answer and you reach out to grab his hand leading him towards the swing set.

The two of you talk casually about things normal children your age talk about like tv shows and music. Shouting suddenly grabs your attention causing you to slow to a stop as a boy runs around the corner and heads towards you both.

“FREAK! THIS ISN’T OVER!”

“Thomas Hagan!”, a teacher yells, blocking him with her body so he can’t follow.

The boy pauses as he leans against pole of the swings trying to catch his breath.

“Are you alright?” He jumped as your hand reached out to touch his arm as he held them up defensively. “Hey. Hey, it’s ok. We won’t hurt you. I’m Y/N and this is Steve.” His chocolate eyes scanned you both over before finally sighing in relief when he realized you weren’t a threat.

“What’s your name?”

“E-Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Oh! You’re the kid that just started here. I’m sorry, man. Welcome to hell.”, Steve joked causing an exasperated laugh to leave Eddie’s lips.

“Did Tommy do that to you?”, you ask as you gesture towards his black eye.

Shaking his head, he came over to sit on the swings beside you both.

You couldn’t explain it at the time, not even now, but as you sat there talking to them you felt comfortable. You felt like you had known them your entire life. Nothing in this moment could have prepared you for the future that was headed towards you all.

##########

1993

“Where up north are you, Stevie?”, Eddie asks as he takes a big bite of the burger in front of him.

“I’ve been up in Detroit for a few months now working at a youth clinic. There’s a lot of good kids there who just need some help.”

“I’m proud of you, dude. We’re supposed to head over there to record with this big time producer. What about you, princess? Where do you call home?”

“I don’t actually have a home right now. I’m a writer for a music magazine so I’ve been on the road mostly for the past 2 years listening to bands and staying in hotels.”, you giggle as a huge smile adorns your face. “Maybe soon I’ll get to write about you, Eddie.”

“Here’s hoping. We just got signed but the manager at the label says we ‘really have something’.”

“Of course you do. You guys were always amazing.”

“Pfft, yeah sure. Drugged out me could barely focus on the strings let alone create a melody.”

The table went silent as a heavy energy fell around the table.

“How have things been? Any cravings?”, Steve asks as he folds his arms to lean forward on his elbows.

“Oh, Harrington. I’m an addict. I always have cravings but choose to resist them.”

“Has it gotten any easier. To resist them, I mean.”, you inquire.

“Yes and no. I mean I used to snort blow 24/7 and now I don’t. I can go about my day and live my life but when something hard hits me or I’m having a bad day I have to physically talk myself out of not looking for a fix.”

“I can understand that. There were a few days where I sat outside of bar staring at the front door for hours before driving away.” His eyes flick towards you as he continues. “I still struggle with regret… regret that we…ruined your life.”

“You didn’t ruin my life. You definitely didn’t make it easy but… I should have left or cut ties beforehand. I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how…to live without you two in my life.”

“Yeah. We get that to.”, Eddie sighed as a silence fell around the table.

It had been a long time since the three of you had been together without the vices getting in the way or taking control. You had no idea how to be around them when they were sober.

“Hey, uh, I have an idea if you two would be up for it.”, Steve grins as he tries to elevate the mood again. “Since the two of us will be in Detroit, why don’t you come with us, honey? Maybe the three of can hang out and spend some time together again. You’re even welcome to stay at my place. I don’t have a spare room but, Y/N, you can take my bed and the two of us can sleep in the living room or something.”

“Oh, Steve, I don’t want to impose—”

“No. No imposition whatsoever!”

“I can do that.”, Eddie confirms.

“Ok. I’m ok with that.”

They both heavily exhale as if they had been holding their breath waiting for your answer.

#########

1976

After getting into a fight with his father, Steve ran to your house knowing you’d make everything better. As soon as he showed up, you called Eddie who biked over as quickly as he could and after he arrived, you both listened intensely as the boy vented.

“Everything’s going to be ok, Steve. You know you’re welcome to stay here.”, you try and soothe the boy as you wrap your arms around his shoulder.

“Why am I never enough for that asshole?!”

“Because he’s just that; an asshole.”, Eddie quips making the other boy softly smile in his direction.

“I should just do whatever I want to since I can never make him happy.”

“That’s a good idea. Oh! I’ll be right back.”, the boy grins at you both before running up your stairs.

“Steve, you ARE amazing. I’m sorry he can’t see that but no matter you have us.” Grabbing his face, you kiss his cheek causing him to blush.

Music starts to play and you both look up to see Eddie coming down the stairs with your bulky radio in his hand. Placing it on the bottom step, he stagers around in place as he begins to lip sync the lyrics.

“I'll state my case, of which I'm certain I've lived a life that´s full I've traveled each and every highway And more, much more than this I did it my way.”

The guitar starts to play and Eddie pretends to strum as he jumps to the ground, continuing to sing as he dances around you both.

“Regrets, I’ve had a few But then again, too few to mention I did, what I had to do And saw it through without exemption.”

Grabbing Steve’s hand, you do the same, dancing to the music as you three sing along.

“I planned each chartered course Each careful step along the highway And more, much more than this I did it my way.”

Eddie spins you and you laugh as you watch wide smiles paint their faces. You loved them both so much and knew after everything they go through they deserved happy, peaceful moments like this. To you, they deserved the world.

***

The flight up to Detroit was uneventful but Steve did fill the time by telling you about some of the kids at the clinic he worked at while Eddie crashed beside him. His eyes lit up as he spoke, telling you about the turnaround a lot of them had made and how talented they all were.

“Amanda is such a smart girl. She’s 15 and she can draw these beautiful pictures. I’m working on seeing if I can book a gallery or something for her to show her work. Right now, she draws for her mother works two jobs to help take care of them because the dad is a junkie.”

“What kind of things does she draw?”

“She can do portraits and people. She drew me once as this like superhero. I have the picture on my fridge.”

“That’s amazing.”, you beam up at him as he smiles to himself. “Steve, I really am proud of you…of both of you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”, he softly grins as his gaze shifts towards his lap. “I’m very proud of you as well. I’m glad you found something that makes you happy. When we were growing up you had mentioned writing before.”

“Yeah. I never knew what I wanted to write about but one day a guy I was dating overheard me talking about grunge metal and offered me a job.”

“Hm. Are you two still together?”

“Uh, no. We only dated for a couple of months. I’m not with anyone right now. No time.”, you chuckle trying to lighten the mood again. “What about you? Any future Mrs. Harringtons?”

“No. No future Mrs. Harringtons. I kind of spent time focusing on me and now the kids.”

“You have to be careful with that. You don’t want to fill one addiction with a new one and miss life entirely. I’m guilty of that those first three years after I left.”

***

You and Eddie enter Steve’s apartment slowly as you take a look around. It was a bit smaller than what you were used to when it came to him but he made it his own. There were posters of bands he enjoyed along the walls with some shelves lined with books he had read. In the corner of his living room was a desk with a few papers and pictures clients had drawn him over the years. A frame caught your eye and you bent down to get a good look as you took in his sobriety coins.

“Yeah, I, uh, bought one of these little frame things because it felt disrespectful to just throw them somewhere.”

“That’s amazing, dude.”, Eddie praised as he threw down his bag. “I, uh, I had an incident a few months back. I’m on the blue 6 month one but…”

“What happened, Ed?”

“Oh, um, nothing we need to get into, sweetheart. I did the proper protocol with my sponsor and she helped get me back on track.”

Steve patted his back comfortingly, knowing how hard it was and is to remain sober. Gesturing you down his hallway, he led you towards his bedroom and you grinned at the simplicity.

“The bathroom is right in there and please both of you feel free to take anything from the kitchen. Me casa es su casa.”, he chuckles as he nervously runs his hands through his hair. “Sorry, that was cheesy.”

“Steve, you guys don’t have to try so hard. Just be yourselves.”

“That’s the thing isn’t it?”, Eddie sighs from his spot against the wall. “The three of us don’t exactly know who we are together anymore.”

You gently smile in his direction as you reach for his hand.

“We’re best friends. Always have been.”

######################

1980

“Eddie, why does that sound familiar?”, you grin from your spot on his bed where you had been listening to him strum his new guitar his uncle bought him at the pawn shop in town.

After his run in with the lady in town today, Rick offered him something from his secret stash. He was amazed at how fast it began working, numbing the anger he was feeling and pushing him to a blissful state he didn’t want to experience alone.

Grinning, he continues to move his fingers as his gentle voice fills your ears.

“Baby, if I think about you I think about love Darlin', if I live without you I live without love.”

“They’ve been playing it on the radio nonstop.”, he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You sound amazing. I can’t wait to see you on that stage one day.”

“Pfft. Me? Al Munson’s trailer trash kid rocking it out on stage making millions of dollars and being successful?”

Fueled with frustration, you grip his chin and force him to look at you.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say anything like that again, Edward Munson. You are NOT trash and you’re nothing like your dad. You can be anything you want to be.”

“Yeah…tell that to people in this backwards town.”

“Fuck what these people think! I think you’re fantastic and so does Steve. You hung out with Rick today. I’m sure he thinks you’re an awesome friend.” Your eyes scan him over when all he does is nod. “Eddie, did something happen in town today? Did someone say something to you?”

His own beautiful, chocolate color hues stare past you for a moment before he blinks back into the moment and flashes you a big, tooth filled grin.

“No, sweetheart. I guess I’m just feeling a little low today. I’m sorry.”

Running his fingers over the strings, he plays the song with much more vigor than before.

“I would give you both night and day Love satisfyin'

Feel like makin' Feel like makin' love.”

“Mhmm. What do you know about makin’ love, Munson?”, you giggle allowing him to lighten the mood.

“Oh, baby. I’m going to be a rockstar, remember? I know everything.”, he winks.

***

You smile as you sit in the booth watching Corroded Coffin play their music. Eddie was in a completely different zone as his fingers ran across the strings of his guitar. This was his dream; this is what he always wanted but always felt was out of reach.

When he was in his drugged out haze you would watch him lazily try to play but stumble as his fingers trembled against the instrument. It killed you because you could always picture him on stage with a crowd full of people screaming his name. He just never believed it himself.

“That was good, baby.”

“That was fucking garbage, Y/N. I barely played anything that would count as a note.”

“That was fantastic guys. Eddie, your band undersold your talent!”, the producer compliments making the metalhead blush. “Ok, let’s take lunch and we’ll come back in about an hour. There’s a cafeteria on the first floor if you guys are interested. It’s on me.”

“You sounded amazing.”, you grin as you meet him in the hallway. “I told you that you were going to be a rockstar one day.”

“Ha! I’m not quite there yet but thank you, sweetheart.”

After getting your food, you both sit and talk about the last couple of years. Eddie told you about some jobs he worked at in Indiana not wanting to be too far from the guys so they could practice and work on things together for the band. He mentioned Wayne and how well he was doing especially after being promoted to a higher position at his work.

“He deserves it. Wayne always worked way too hard for almost no money and appreciation.”

“Tell me about it.”, he chuckles. “And of course, the first day he starts his new position, he gets a crush on one of the female employees underneath him!”

That makes you laugh hard and he relishes the sound as his eyes watch you light up. That feeling of regret washes over him and he averts his gaze to his plate as he shuffles some food around.

“So, um, any rockstar boyfriends out there touring the world?”

“No, no boyfriend. I focused on myself more than anything and honestly haven’t had time for a full-blown relationship.”, you reply. “What about you? Any new girlfriends?”

“Naw, sweetheart. I’ve kind of been doing the same thing more or less.”, he answers sullenly. “Quite frankly, I haven’t met anyone who would be willing to sneak backstage of a Metallica show and pretend to be the building manager to get her boyfriend an autograph.”

This time when you laugh, he cackles with you and embraces the warm feeling that follows.

“I told him it was for my kid.”, you blush. “God, hopefully I never have to write for them. I’ve been lucky so far but that will be an awkward exchange if they remember me!”

“Are you kidding, princess? You definitely leave an impression! Who could forget about you?” Eddie froze as he heavily exhaled and shook his head.

“Y/N, I’m sorry…”

“No, Ed, it’s ok…”

“You would think I’d have this down by now but…”

You nod before you rise to your feet and get on his side of the table to sit beside him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean your head on his shoulder as he reaches up to caress your arm.

#################

1980

Steve tenderly grins your way as he watches your eyes light up at the movie Kungfu you two had been watching. Well, you had been watching. He had been stuck in his own head after that ridiculous conversation with his dad.

“Son, you’re about to start high school which means it’s time to really buckle down and focus. No more fucking around. If you want to run my company one day you can’t keep being lazy.”

While he had been talking there was a woman in his office waiting for him to give her attention. Her dress seemed way too tight and it inched up her thighs as she sat on top of his desk. Steve would never understand why his father cheated on his mother. To him, these women weren’t nearly half as pretty as her nor anywhere close to being as loyal as she was.

His dad said he needed to ‘buckle down and focus’ but what he heard was ‘it’s time for you to start being like me’.

Steve hadn’t planned on coming over but he felt weird after drinking the bottle he found. He thought booze were supposed to make you happy but he found himself feeling incredibly lonely. When he showed up unannounced, you opened your front door and eagerly ushered him with no hesitation.

You always made them feel like they mattered.

“Steve? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m ok. Just thinking.”

“Did you want to watch something else? I put this on because I know the cheesy effects make you laugh.”, you giggle as his smile grows.

“Naw, honey. This is fine. My dad was being…himself you know?”

“I know. You know you can always talk to me. I love you and I’m always here for you.”

Opening his arms wide, you fall into his embrace and he prays you don’t smell the liquor that lingers.

***

“Oh, wow. Look at you and you have your own shelf.”, you tease as Steve leads you into his office.

After leaving Eddie so Corroded Coffin could continue recording, you headed to the center the other boy worked at so he could give you the “grand tour” as he called it. You grinned at the drawings and pictures he had posted everywhere around him. Multiple books and files were strewn out all over the place on his desk but a particular photo caught your eye.

“Oh, um, yeah. I still keep that there as a reminder.”

Picking up the image of you three at the amusement park, you smile as you fall into the memory. They both seemed extremely content that day as if all their worries had disappeared. You thought about that day often to especially when you passed one on the tour bus you were riding in at the time.

“The kids ask me about you two constantly.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to meet them?”

When you nod, his grin stretches across his face as he giddily grabs your hand and guides you to a much larger room where some kids were already sitting around waiting.

“Mr. Harrington brought a date to group!”

“Look at Hugh Hefner over here!”

“’Bout time you settle down, old man!”

“Alright, alright. All of you settle down.”, Steve jokes as you laugh. “This is my friend from Hawkins I tell you guys about. This is Y/N.”

“You’re the girl he doesn’t shut up about.”, a young lady smiles.

“That would be Amanda.”

“I know you. He told me all about you on the ride up here. Your work is amazing.”

“Thank you!”, she beams.

Taking a seat beside Steve, you watch as he conducts the group session, introducing each kid and responding where appropriate. You couldn’t help but marvel at his change as he took control and seemed way more confident than he ever did back home.

There was no one he needed to impress or a “legacy” he needed to live up to. He could just be himself.

“Please, Katie. Trust me, your mom doesn’t fucking care. That’s why she drinks.”

“Derek.”, Steve warned. “That’s not how we talk to each other in here.”

Your eyes scanned over the boy across from you. He couldn’t be older than 17 but he seemed to carry years of anger and burden on his shoulders. His arms were folded tight around his chest; a barrier to protect him from anyone trying to get in. Emphasized by the oversized hoodie that he kept up over his head.

You knew this boy; you had been him.

“What? Am I wrong? If she cared she’d stop fucking binge drinking every night and actually spend time with her daughter.”

“Who in your family drinks? Mom or dad?”

All eyes turn to you after you pose your question.

“My dad. Why? Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does. I know how hard it is…to have someone you love choose substances over you. It fucking hurts.”

“Look, I don’t need another adult to patronize to me, okay?”

“She’s not. If anyone understands what you guys are going through it’s Y/N. Especially you, Derek. Remember how I told you guys about my accident and DUI? Y/N was…was in the car with me.” Steve stumbles over his words before quickly trying to regain control again.

“Hm. Did you rat him out? Is that why he’s clean now? Are you going to tell me I should be open and honest or some shit?”, the boy spat.

“No, I didn’t. I actually told the police I didn’t remember who was driving. Took a couple of weeks though because I needed surgery after metal from the car sliced through me. He never even came to the hospital.”

“Wow, Mr. Harrington. You were an asshole.”, a girl sighed.

“I was wasted and terrified. I couldn’t face what I did to someone I loved.”

Derek’s eyes were suddenly glassy as he adjusted his body in his seat.

“He does love you, honey.”, you coo towards the boy as his bottom lip quivers. “If it were as easy as putting the bottle or drug down they would. Some people can but for others it’s so much harder. Whether they heal or not is ultimately up to them but no matter what happens, Derek, none of it is your fault.”

The young man sighs as he breaks down and the girl beside him wraps her arms around him as he cries. A palm touches yours and you turn your head to see Steve’s soft eyes taking you in.

You see the never-ending apology within them as flashes of the old boy you knew before the booze pushed through before receding as he flashes you a gentle grin and lifts his hand.

################

1983

“Guys, really? Do we have to eat all this before going on the rollercoaster?”, you giggle as you watch Eddie pour more cheese over the nachos in front of you three.

“Yes, sweetheart, we do.”, he answers in a serious tone as his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth.

“And the cherry on top.”

Steve produces a cupcake from his side and places it in front of you as the metalhead pushes a candle through the top of the frosting. You smile as Steve cups his hands around it while Eddie pulls out his lighter and ignites the wick.

“Now make a wish and blow out your candle.”

Your gaze shifts between their happy faces as they wait for you to complete the task.

“I wish everyday could be like today.”

As you blow it out, both boys clap and cheer making you blush as Steve kisses your cheek.

“Happy birthday, beautiful.”

Eddie leans over to take hold of your jaw and peck your lips before sitting back down.

“Happy Birthday, princess. Now, you eat this while sire and I devour this here.”

“Why do I have to and she doesn’t?”

“Because it’s her birthday, Steven! No stop whining and say Ah!”

As the boy scowls he unhooks his jaw and Eddie shoves a chip into his mouth making you laugh as you lean against him.

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous! I love you so much.”

***

You laugh hard at the joke Eddie had made as Steve struggles to keep soda inside his mouth while he cackles with you.

“I really missed you guys.”, the metalhead announces, his gaze shifting between you both. “I mean I’ve made a lot of new friends you know but I talk about the things we used to do like me doing Karaoke to make Steven laugh or you and I, Y/N, going to the horror movie marathon just outside of town.”

“I remember that. That was so much fun.”, you smile.

“One of the things I enjoy about my job is interacting with those kids. Most of them are sarcastic as fuck like you, Ed, or extremely kind like, Y/N. Thank you for what you did with Derek today by the way. He struggles to talk about his relationships with anyone let alone about his dad.”

“May I ask what happened? You mentioned our accident…”

“Um, yeah. It was kind of the same thing. His dad hit a car with him in it while drunk, ran from the scene, and Derek took the blame. His dad begged him to before he bolted…kid was only 15.”

“Jesus.”, Eddie sighed. “Sounds like my dad.”

“He seems like a good boy. He’ll be okay.” You flash him a comforting grin and he can’t help but smile back. “I, um, I feel like we keep ignoring the elephant in the room. I want you to know I am genuinely so proud of you both. Steve I never imagined you’d be as confident as you seem now. You always told me you thought you were worthless and I know that’s because of your asshole dad. I watched for years as you lived in his shadow but were still so terrified of becoming him… Those kids don’t have to experience that because they have you now.”

“Eddie, you were always afraid of people abandoning you and numbed yourself constantly. When you were numb you were so angry and heartbroken. When I saw you playing your guitar again with your band… you finally seemed at peace.”

Your voice cracked as a tear escaped your eye and you awkwardly laughed as you wiped it away.

“That’s all I ever wanted for you two.”

“6 months ago… when I relapsed… I was in such a low place. My apartment I was staying in got robbed, I had just been let go from a job I was at, and this girl I was dating said she didn’t want to see me anymore. She said I was loser and it fucking hurt like hell. I felt so alone and it was almost like a dream. I barely even remember where I bought the drugs or how I got back home but as soon as it hit my nose I regretted it.”

“Y/N, I saw your face and everything I wished I could take back. The fights, the names, the pain… The way we talked to you.” He cringed as memories flashed through his mind.

“I get that. Of course, my biggest regret is the accident but the one I think about the most is the first time we were intimate when we…I…” You looked at Steve with sincere confusion not thinking anything of that night. Then again compared to all the others you had after it was just a blip in a chaotic timeline. “Y/N, honey, you lost your virginity on my couch after threatening to leave us because of the jugs of liquor you found in my trash.”

“We should have done it right. I picture us taking you to dinner and you’d be wearing that red dress we loved.”

“Yeah, that one floofed out above your knees kind of like a tutu.”, Eddie chuckled. “With your hair up in a ponytail so we could so your face. You always wore make up but you never needed to. You were…are… so beautiful.”

“How are you two dressed?”, you murmur their way.

“Let’s see. I’d probably have my jeans and black shirt but I would have made sure it was clean with little to no cigarette smell.”, the metalhead jests causing you two to let out a little laugh.

“I’d have worn jeans to but a nice polo shirt I think to go with it and that expensive cologne my dad kept buying me.”, he smirked. “We’d take you to Enzos because you deserve a nice meal but of course you would complain about the prices even though we insist it’s no problem.”

“Some soft music would be playing and we’d ask you to dance.”

Steve rises to his feet and messes with his stereo till a slow 70s song flows through his speakers. Extending his hand to you, you take it as he pulls you to your feet and places one of his palms on your lower back as he holds the other in the air.

“Is this ok?”, he whispers under his breath, exhaling heavily in relief when you nod. “I would tell you about how I fell in love with you the first time I met you. You said all the girls in your class had a crush on me but I didn’t get it. I think I said something along of the lines ‘I’m not that great.’ And you said—”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty great to me.”

He tenderly smiles at your response before grabbing your hand to spin you and pass you to Eddie who was waiting with open arms.

“I would have probably made a joke about the music saying that dancing to Dio is way better.” He smiles when you giggle. “I’d tell you that the first time I saw you I thought you were way too good for me. I remember you asked about my black eye my dad had given me and it surprised me. Every other adult already assumed or were afraid to ask, staring at me constantly. But you actually fucking cared.”

“Then what would happen?”

Eddie passed you back to Steve and this time you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your head against his chest. You didn’t see it but he and the metalhead exchanged a glance filled with slight worry as he held you and leaned his cheek on top of your head.

“Y/N, honey—”

“You don’t have to answer. I can let you go, we can get ready for bed, and go back to being friends. We’ll always be at least that because I agree with Eddie. I miss you two so much but unlike the first time I left…I don’t feel bad about it.”��

Pulling away from him, you back up a bit to address them both.

“I’m happier than I’ve ever been and you were right in the letter you left me. I had some more healing to do to. I needed to find out who I was without you and now that I figured that out…I want to see if…maybe…we can start over. I mean we’ve all grown so much and I’d like to get to know the two men in front of me.”

Their eyes continually scan over you, trying to understand and get a true read to make sure you’re alright.

“But like I said, you don’t have to. We can go back to laughing or go to sleep. If it makes you feel better, you taking my virginity that morning…I don’t remember it being a bad experience. Yeah it hurt but it was going to for me anyway and not just because I was virgin.”, you tease, smirking their way.

You were surprised when Eddie was the first to move, taking agonizingly slow steps till he was directly in front of you with his nose hovering just above your own. After blinking a couple of times, he pulled you into his embrace and you closed your eyes as you inhaled his signature smell while clinging your arms around him.

“I love you.”, you whisper. As if your words were a match, they ignited the metalhead’s passion as his hands tilted your head back and he kissed your lips. As if muscle memory was taking over, you clung to his neck as you jumped up into his arms and his hands promptly took hold of your thighs as your legs wrapped around him.

As he starts to carry you, his feet give out underneath him as he trips over something and you both tumble to the floor. He manages to keep himself from crushing you as his palms shoot out to catch himself on the hard wood.

“Fuck! Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot for a moment this wasn’t my place.”, he chuckles shakily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, you laugh.

“I feel like a fucking teenager. I’m actually…I don’t know…nervous.”

“Would it…make you feel better if I admitted I’m nervous to? It’s been a while for me and if I’m being honest I think I’ve only been with you guys sober that one time but that was after that intense session. We’ve never been together…like this.”

Wind moves your hair and you both turn to see Steve laying out one of his blankets with a couple of pillows on the floor.

“I wish I had lost my virginity to you.”, he admitted. “I was wasted and I’m ashamed to say I don’t even remember the girl’s name. I think you’re the only girl…woman… I’ve been with sober.”

“I was half awake.”, Eddie sighed. “Karla something in the back of my van. I barely remember it either.”

“Were you rough with the other girls like you were me?”, you asked.

“Sometimes but you were the only one that seemed to enjoy it.”

“Did you?”, the metalhead asked. “We never even asked what you liked in bed. Just kind of did our own thing…”

“I did and I didn’t. I hated when we did it after a fight. Kind of like that night we went to Steve’s house after spending time at The Hideout. Eddie said I wanted to fuck Andrew and Steve, you got mad at me because I defended you in front of your dad. You said I butted in and made things worse. You both said you were going to use me one last time before I abandoned you.”

“And I choked you too hard…”

“Sometimes if you both were angry enough the line would blur.”

Steve’s head hung knowing he was the culprit of most of your verbal sparring matches with him. He cringed every time he thought about the awful things he had said to you while drunk.

Scooting closer to him, your hand reached out to grab his chin lifting his face so you could see his eyes.

“I love you to.” The man sighed as your thumb caressed his bottom lip. “Show me the men you are now.”

When his lips connected with yours, you wanted to cry because for the first time in a long time you felt safe. Your tongues mingled together as his hips grinded down against yours eliciting a soft moan as you turned your head to find Eddie. Steve’s mouth continued to travel to your neck as he clung to you, your fingers threading through his hair as the metalhead leaned down to kiss the other side.

Kisses and stolen touches were exchanged as clothes were removed, you not wanting them to be too far for very long as their lips refamiliarized them with your body. Lifting your legs open wide over both their hips, you mewled as their fingers ran delicately up your thighs.

“This is what we should have done.”, Steve whispered in your ear. “We should have taken our time with you; made you feel more comfortable.”

“Made you feel good and help prepare you.”, Eddie added as he tenderly kissed your cheek and the side of your face.

When his thick fingers slide into your core, your eyes rolled as your head dipped back. Both your palms ran along cocks and the sound of their groans in your ears had you clenching tightly around his digits. When Steve joined his friend and massaged fast circles into your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Fuck, please. Just like that.”

They each grinded against you, desperate for relief as the sound of your slick filled the room as they picked up their pace.

“That’s it, honey. Cum for us.”

“We got you, pretty girl.”

Your body trembled as you came, your lips searching for theirs as their fingers guided you through.

“Fuck, that was sexy.”, Steve panted against your lips as he maneuvered himself on top of you. “Wait, fuck, do I need…I may have some condoms somewhere…”

“No. It’s ok. I’m still on the pill.”

Softly grinning down at you, he places a peck on your lips before trailing kisses along your cheek and to your ear.

“We should have asked that first time. We didn’t even bother. We were so afraid you really were going to leave…”, he whispered. Reaching between your bodies, he gripped the base of his cock and gradually guided it into your core. “Oh my God, Y/N.”

Steve groans as your pussy stretches to accommodate his size and the memory of that evening smacks into you like a ton of bricks.

“Steve, you’re so big. It won’t fit—”

“It will, honey, I promise…”

“Just go slow and keep talking to me.”

“No, no, baby. You’re ok. Eddie, fuck, can you—”

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

“Hurts.”

“Hey, are you alright? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Tears start to fall from your eyes but as the man lifts himself up to pull out and comfort you, you wrap your arms around him to hold him to you.

“I’m ok. Don’t stop, please, and don’t stop talking to me. You feel so good… I just…I love you.”

His heart flutters at your admission every time he hears you say it. They both thought they had lost you forever and rightfully so but to know they have a chance… they weren’t going to waste it this time.

Steve slowly began pumping his hips, relishing the feeling of you clinging to him again.

“I love you to, baby. This is how I should have taken you that first time, nice, slow, and—fuck—so deep. Your pussy so fucking tight as it pulls me in. I can feel you everywhere, Y/N, you’re so warm and wet. You take my cock so well…such a good girl.”

Your eyes rolled as you clenched at the name. With anyone else you had been with you never allowed them to play rough or tell you things like how good of a girl you were or anything like that. It reminded you of them and truth be told you only really believed it when they said it. You didn’t want to push them but you wanted them to know it was ok to be a bit more passionate when it came to you.

“I’m your good girl?”, you whimper making him moan.

“Fuck, yeah, honey. You’re our good girl.”

“Then fuck me like a good girl deserves, Steve.” As his head falls between your neck and shoulder, your fingers cling to his hair as he thrusts his cock into you a bit harder than before. “That’s it. Just like that.”

Your eyes swiveled to look for Eddie, finding him beside you both stroking his length as he waited. The sight drove you wild as the other man moved at a faster rhythm, pounding into that sensitive spot inside you that had your jaw going slack.

“Please…please, Steve. I’m gonna cum.”

Reaching for your hands, he pinned them above your head as he held them in his own, intertwining his fingers with yours as he sucked little marks on to your neck.

The coil in your belly snapped as you repeatedly moaned his name, his lips hastily meeting yours to swallow your moans as he chased his high.

“Can I swallow your cum, baby? Please?”

He doesn’t respond as his eyes stare into your own but as his hips sputter he quickly pulls out of you and crawls up your body to push his dick into your awaiting mouth. His fingers tangle in your hair as you bob your head and he mewls as he spills his release down your throat.

As he backs away from you, you sit up and kiss his lips, his palms cupping your face as he holds you close to him. After caressing his cheek and silently assuring him you were alright, you shimmed your way to the metalhead and wrapped your arms around his neck as he adjusted himself till you were sitting on top of him straddling his waist.

“It was my first time with the woman I loved and I didn’t even get to see your face.”, Eddie murmured as his hands traveled down your sides to rest on your thighs. “I barely even checked in to make sure you were ok.”

As he spoke, you continued to look down at him as you dragged your pussy lips along his cock.

“I should have had you on top of me just like this so I could see you and you could see me. See that beautiful face scrunch right here when you slide me in.” He smiles when you giggle as he pokes your forehead. “Fuck, Y/N, I missed a lot of things but nothing more than your laugh, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you tilted down to kiss his lips and his palms clung to the base of your neck as you guided your hips down onto his length.

“I love you, Eddie.”

“Mmm—I love you to, pretty girl.” Subtly bouncing on top of him, you both mewled as his tip hit that soft spot repeatedly. “There you go, princess. Still so fucking tight.”

Your eyes searched his face as he licked his lips and arched his neck, the veins along his throat making you moan.

“Spank me.”, you plead as your nose grazes his. “I promise it’s ok.”

His eyes fully open, meeting your own as you place his hands on your behind. Gauging your reaction, he kneads your meaty flesh as he guides your movements.

“Fuck, baby. You look so sexy riding my dick. Make yourself cum. I want to feel your pussy squeezing me.”

Bouncing as hard as you can, your head falls on his shoulder as his palm spanks your ass and he feels your warm breath heat his skin.

“A-Again, Eddie. Just like that.”

Ring laced fingers take hold of the back of your neck as his other arm circles around your waist to hold you still as he plants his feet and thrusts up into you meeting your motions with a hard one of his own.

“Like that, Y/N? That the spot? I know, sweetheart, I got you.”

That wasn’t the first time he had ever said those words to you but this was the first time you ever believed him.

“Say it again.”

His head turned slightly to kiss your temple as he softly murmured his last sentence till you tumbled over the ledge and he spanked you again as he helped you ride your high. Leaning back on your knees, he followed you and you hugged his head to your chest as you rolled your hips till you felt him warm your insides.

His lips roamed your skin as he guided your sweaty bodies on your sides. A second set of welcomed kisses glided along your shoulder blade as you felt yourself slowly drift off into bliss.

###############

1982

“Fuck, why am I nervous? We’ve known her since like 4th grade.”, Steve hyped himself up as they sat outside your door in his car.

“Yeah, but this is different. We’ve never looked at her that way before and vice versa.”, Eddie sighed.

“I mean…I always thought she was beautiful. I just…what would a perfect girl like that want with an asshole like me?”

“Steve, you’re not a…well you’re a little bit of an asshole.”, the metalhead teases making his friend laugh. “I get it though. She’s perfect to me to and deserves more than some trailer trash felon’s kid.”

As his hands begin to shake, he reaches into his leather jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m ok. I just haven’t had a hit all day and I’m jumpy. I wanted to be sober for our first date with her.”

Steve smiled at his friend as he flashes him his jacket pocket.

“Same. No flask or any alcohol.” Eddie nodded as he patted the man’s shoulder. “You’re not trailer trash, Munson. I hope you know that. You’ve been my best friend to and I’ve never once seen you that way. I love ya, man.”

“Aw. I love you to, Harrington.”, he replies in a high pitch sing song voice before glancing out the window. “Thank you. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

Grinning, they both hop out of the car and knock on your door, their jaws dropping when you greet them in a beautiful blue dress they had never seen on you before.

“Wow, you two look handsome.”

“We don’t look half as good as you. Oh my god.”, Steve compliments making you blush.

Eddie extends his arm like he had seen so many times in movies, his smile widening when you loop your own through it and lean over to kiss his cheek.

#############

You woke up to the sound of beeping as your eyes opened in search of the noise. Steve groaned as he rolled over, blindly searching before holding up his watch, and pushing the button to silence it.

“Do you have to go to work?”, you whisper, smiling when he shakes his head and turns back onto his side reminding you of the little boy who used to do sleep overs with you in elementary school.

As you try to face him as well, you realize a tattooed arm is laying across your chest and glance over to see Eddie on his tummy with his messy hair blocking his face. Tenderly, you reach over to move it to the side, rousing him from sleep as he scrunches his nose and blinks before pulling you closer to him till his nose was pressed against your cheek.

The first time you met him his hair was extremely short and he had bruises everywhere. When he came to your house, you could tell he felt out of place but you extended your hand and allowed him to hold it if he felt uncomfortable. Those first couple of times he stayed over, you would wake up with the back of his palm near yours.

Fingers tracing your skin bring you back to the present as your eyes meet Steve’s and he smiles as he runs them up your arm and down your stomach. Your breathing hitches when you feel the tips along the scar on your stomach.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Sometimes…when it rains or snows… or when I dream about it…” His amber eyes scan your face as you continue. “Those are the two experiences I think about a lot still. You two screaming at each other before leaving me and finding Eddie ODed…”

The man’s thumb caressed your skin as he kissed your skin.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I meant what I said before that night two years ago. I forgive you both. This past week just hearing and seeing how far you two have come… I loved you both so much but I never felt safe. Last night and right now… I feel like it’s finally safe for me to let go and trust you again. If you want that…if you want me…”

Eddie’s lips abruptly crash to your own before kissing your nose and up to your forehead.

“I love you so much, Y/N. I will always want you, baby. I promise you ARE safe with me. I got you.”

Steve lightly grips your chin, turning you to face him as he kisses your lips as well.

“I love you, honey, and you are all I’ve ever wanted. You’re safe with me to and you both are more than welcome to stay here or we can look for a bigger place. Whatever we have to do, I’m in.”

You held them both to you as the tears began to flow, thankful that your lives would no longer be trapped in memories but new beginnings with the two people you loved the most and loved you.

################

135 notes · View notes

silvervioletvalentine · 2 years

Text

Never too much to someone that can’t get enough of you.

Pairing : Charles leclerc X Cherrie (fem!)

Word count : 8k

Warnings: fluff . So much love it’ll make you sick. Lovesick Charles. A lot of the colour red. Idk that’s it I think?

I can’t believe the amount of love I got on my recent kylian mbappe fic!! I’m so happy you guys liked it. So here’s a Charles one!! Hope you like it xoxo

Charles tried and failed miserably to acted casual and uncaring as he asked the unspoken question of the night , clearing his throat and gently nudging Pierre's arm from where he was sat next to him at the table . Waiting to be served their overpriced food for the night .

He had spent the last half hour nursing a glance of wine and sending the occasional anxious glance towards the restaurant door , hoping to catch a glimpse of her familiar wild hair and pretty face , or even just to catch the sound of her loud voice that he often heard before he even caught a glimpse of her.

But as the minutes past buy and the rest of the guys at the table began to mutter impatiently about how hungry they were and how unfair it was for them to have to wait like this , he felt himself grow restless.

Unable to take it anymore , his worry and curiosity got the best of him.

"Where's cherrie? Is she still coming?" He asked Pierre quietly , not wanting to draw attention to himself by asking the unspoken question.

It was bad enough that every time he saw Cherrie , he turned the colour of her name. He didn't need to the rest of the drivers to pick up on his ridiculous little crush either . He would never hear the end of it.

Pierre looked over at him with a small smirk , being the only one to know about Charles infatuation with the loud mouth troublemaker of the grid .

After being the only one there to hear Charles drunkenly ramble on about how beautiful and strange she was , a few bottle of wines had him almost crying as he told Pierre about how much she scared him and how fucked up it was that he liked it.

Now every time he mentioned her , his friend would get a smug little knowing look on his face . One that said 'I know everything' and wasn't afraid to rub it in his face .

Charles really should be carefully about who he drinks around in the future .

"How would I know?" He answered with a small smirk , shaking his head at him in amusement .

He thought it was funny that his quite , kind and always polite friend was infatuated with a woman the complete opposite of him. One that enthralled him yet scared the absolute shit out of him at the same time .

Charles didn't even know why he had gotten so obsessed with her so quickly . Maybe it was because she was everything that he wasn't . Perhaps he liked the fact that he could never guess what she would do next.

Because Cherrie was loud , obnoxious and blunt. Always saying whatever came to her mind without any thought to filter the good from the bad beforehand. She just didn't give a shit .

If you told her yes , she would say no.

If you told her not to do something , she would do it.

If you said she wasn't capable of doing something , she would do it and then do it again just to hit the mark and rub it in peoples faces .

She was fearless. Confident and she never took anyone's shit. Charles really did admire that about her.

However to others she could also come across as rude , mean and a complete and utter bitch. A title that she wore proudly , uncaring of what anyone thought of her .

Because at the end of the day she was a winner . She was the one bringing in the points for Ferrari , she was the one that was permanently on the podium. If she wasn't number one , she was never below the top three .

So what did it matter if she partied every night? If she ran around the hotel lobby in her underwear , drunk and serenading the poor guests there with a terrible version of welcome to the jungle?

And what did it matter if she never had a serious boyfriend? If she was seen with a new man each month? From footballers , to actors and musicians . She wasn't particularly picky. Because they never lasted long anyways.

And so what if she got into public fights all the time? As long as she didn't fuck up her knuckles too much , she could still drive and she could still win. Just like she always did. It was no big deal.

Being her teammate was a rollercoaster . Because while Charles admired and was envious of her driving skills , wanting to know more and wanting to know just how she did it. There was the small problem of how she made him feel.

He wanted to talk to her. Wanted to ask her a thousand and one questions that sprung to mind . He wanted to know her , he wanted to know everything .

He wanted to be her friend . Definitely wanted to be more . But unfortunately for him , he had never been very lucky. On the track and off the track apparently.

Because as soon as she looked at him and flashed him her pretty smile , it was like his brain shut down and he turned into a red coloured zombie who suddenly could no longer form a sentence or even return her smile.

So instead , he blushed and ran away like a coward each time . Mumbling some excuse about how he was needed elsewhere or that someone was calling him, even though his phone never rang.

So no. Because of this, Cherrie and himself weren't particularly close despite being partners on the track. And he only had himself and his own nervousness to blame for that.

Because she did try. She always shouted a pleased hello at him when she passed by. Always tapped the top of his helmet in good luck . Always told him that it would be him on the podium with her next time , giving him hope after yet another failure from his team.

She invited him to parties with her. Yet He always declined because he was a stupid , scaredy cat who was so scared of fucking up and saying something wrong to her , that he was was fucking it up by not doing anything at all.

He was certain that she must think that he had a problem with her by now.

Because lately those happy greetings had stopped and no longer did she invite him to hang out with her anymore . And he knew it was his fault , but what was he to do? He just couldn't help it.

She turned him into a stammering , blushing teenage mess again.

"You talk to her don't you?" Charles finally muttered to his question . Frowning back at Pierre in pure annoyance .

He knew for a fact that Pierre was close to Cherrie . Had seen the multiple posts and photos of them together at random parties and clubs , they had even gone on holiday together with a few other drivers too. They looked like they had the time of their lives together , meanwhile he had bitterly scrolled past their posts with a pout on his face . Having told Cherrie that he couldn't go with them because he had stomach flu.

He didn't have stomach flu but it felt like he did when he saw pictures of her in a tiny dress and sitting on his best friends lap in Hawaii .

Pierre gave him an amused glance . Watching his anxious friend taking another sip of his wine while talking another glance towards the doors.

"Yes I do. We're good friends . Something that you could be with Cherrie if you simply stopped being such a whimp." He simply replied . Getting out his phone and pulling up their texts . Humming to himself as he read the newest one she had sent him ten minutes ago.

"She's running late . Apparently she's had a wardrobe malfunction." He told him.

Charles scowled at him , inhaling deeply as he fiddled with his glass between his fingers .

“Not that simple mate. She must think there's something wrong with me. She doesn't invite me out anymore." He muttered , upset with himself .

Pierre sighed at that. Shooting him a sympathetic glance , yet the amusement in his eyes wasn't fading at all.

"There is something wrong with you. It's called being in love." He stated matter of factly .

He said it So bluntly that Charles choked on his gulp of wine in shock, coughing loudly as he slammed his fist against his chest. Staring with wide, terrified eyes at his friend just as the woman of the hour stumbled in.

Perfect timing .

Cherrie came strutting over to their table In dark red , six inch heels that showcased her tanned and toned legs . Small leather shorts hugging her hips and ...

No shirt. Charles felt like he was going to pass out as he continued to splutter on the droplets of wine that were now trying to kill him.

Pierre snickering beside him as he looked between the two of them happily , as though he was watching his own personal comedy show.

"You won't believe the day I've had!" Cherrie exclaimed as she through her clutch down onto the table with a huff . Nothing but a small , black lace bra covering her upper body.

Then she took note of Charles choking to death at the end of the table and glanced over at him in concern .

Raising a perfectly arched brow in worry as she strutted over to him and starting patting him on the back in hopes to help him.

Kneeling down slightly so that she could see his reddening face , her large chest now in his eyesight from her lack of shirt .

Dear god. Charles thought in misery as he tore his eyes away from her chest and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. I'm being tortured .

"Are you good?" She laughed as she patted the top of his head as well before getting back to her feet and sliding into the chair opposite him. Eyes still glancing curiously at him as his coughing fit finally came to an end . Although the red on his cheeks wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Unable to look her in the eyes , instead settling to glare back at his giggling friend beside him.

He hummed tensely "yeah. Just- the wine-" he motioned helplessly to his now nearly empty wine glass . Beyond mortified now.

He could see lando and Daniel grinning at him from the other side of the table , Carlos simply shaking his head at him with a smile full of pity .

So , perhaps he wasn't as discreet with his infatuation with her as he had previously thought .

lovely . Fucking lovely .

Cherrie nodded along as though she understood . Grabbing her own glass that had been waiting for her and taking a swig , kissing her teeth afterwords with a slight grimace .

"Mmm. Yeah no wonder you choked. Not the best. Anybody want some vodka?" She said with a grin as she opened up her clutch and pulled out a red flask with her name engraved on it .

Daniel whooped happily as he made grabby hands at the flask. Cherrie chucking it to him with a laugh as the waiters finally began bringing out their food now that she had arrived .

It was Carlos who brought up the elephant in the room. Glancing down at her bra that hardly covered anything with a curious look on his face , titling his head .

"Cherrie?" He called over to her just as the waiters left , getting her attention again .

She just hummed as she looked down at her plate of mushroom and chicken pasta , nodding her head happily to herself as she picked up her fork.

"Yeah?" She shoved a spoonful of heaven into her mouth. Raising a brow at Carlos impatiently as her flask was passed around the table . Everyone brightening up now that food was served with the option of pure vodka too.

He glanced again at her chest and then over to Charles who had his eyes glued down to his plate , seemingly in a staring contest with his own food.

"Where is your shirt? You do know that it is missing right?" He asked her kindly . Wondering if she simply had forgotten to wear one . It wouldn't be the first time .

Cherrie just sighed and glanced down at her chest with a slight pout on her face , frowning a little in annoyance .

"I got my shirt caught caught in the elevator door and it ripped off. I couldn't be bothered going back home . The bra covers what it needs to." She muttered around a mouthful of pasta , utterly starving and not giving a shit about manners then.

Charles swallowed roughly. He didn't think that it covered what it needed to at all.

Taking another quick glance up from his plate to confirm his thoughts , he chewed on the inside of his cheek and quickly averted his eyes again.

Yep. Didn't cover much at all.

Lando grinned over at her "I think you look great Cherrie! You're making a fashion statement . Next new trend hopefully!" He cheekily joked as he reached over the table to high give her .

Cherrie just giggled as she slapped his hand and rolled her eyes at him with a grin.

Pointing her fork at him playfully "oh lando. Dear little lando. You wouldn't last a minute if all the women in the world started to look like me and dress like me . You wouldn't be able to handle it." She teased as she took another swig of the wine to wash down her pasta with.

Lando gasped , offended . "I would too!" He exclaimed.

Daniel laughed loudly "spoken like a real man. You sound like a five year old! I would too!" He mocked him , giggling as he ducked out of the way of the incoming smack.

As the others began to banter between themselves , Cherrie took the chance to tap her heel against Charles ankle .

Making him flinch so hard he smacked his own arm against pierres who gave him a amused shake of his head. Feeling sorry for his friend now. This was utterly pathetic.

Cherrie let out a chuckle as she gave him a curious glance . Wondering why he looked so flustered and red.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look a little ..." she twisted her lips not wanting to accidentally insult him . "Like your car." She instead settled on making , Pierre snort loudly .

Frowning at him curiously before turning her gaze back to Charles who had , if it was possible , gone an even darker shade of red .

Clearing his throat , he gave her a nervous smile and nodded his head. Clenching his fork in his hand as he twirled his spaghetti around on his plate , finally meeting her eyes and keeping them there.

He wondered then if Axl rose had written that verse just for Cherrie. It seemed fitting .

'She had eyes of the bluest skies as if they thought of rain , I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain.'

Her eyes were just as beautiful as the rest of her. Because of course they were . There wasn't anything ugly about her . She was perfect in his eyes.

Even as she sat there , missing a shirt and taking a swig from a flask of vodka . Eyeliners smudged beneath her eyes and her painted nails all chipped and messy. He still thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world .

Fucking hell. He was absolutely screwed. There was no coming back from this was there?

"I'm okay." He quietly confirmed . Trying to gather every ounce of courage he had to just talk to her like a normal human being for change .

“Er-how's your cat? Sirius right?" He asked.

Pierre gave him a look. Letting out a long , pitiful sigh. Horrified at the lack of game his best friend had. He really needed to school him on the art of flirting. Desperately in fact .

Cherrie let her smile fall from her lips, letting out a dramatic sigh as she widened her eyes at him like she was suddenly really sad .

"He died." She said keeping a straight face as she watched Charles’s face go white . His mouth parting in shock while his face displayed nothing but horror , seemingly having lost his voice .

As he just continued to blink at her in disbelief , his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. She couldn't hold it back any longer, feeling bad , she burst out into laughter .

Reaching over to flick at his hand , she shook her head with a teasing grin.

"I'm kidding! I'm just joking char! He's alive and well. Can't you tell from all the cat hair on me?" She giggled as she picked a ginger hair from her bra strap with a smile.

Charles couldn't stop himself from exhaling loudly in relief . "Oh mon dieu! Shit.." he breathed out a shaky chuckle.

Clutching his hand over his anxiously racing heart . Having thought that he had really fucked up, again.

"He's alive?" He repeated just to be sure . Eyes still wide from the shock of her little joke. Sure that she was trying to kill him.

Cherrie just nodded her head as she sucked the pasta sauce from her fork slowly , popping it out of her mouth once she was done with a sly little grin.

Seeing the way Charles eyes were glued to her lips , she ran her tongue against the bottom of her glossed lip just to tease him some more .

"Mmm. He's so fucking fat. I've tried dieting him but nothing is working ." She told him with fondness in her voice as she pulled out her phone and pulled up a picture of her cat. Turning it around to and leaning over the table so Charles could see it clearly .

Charles couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the obese fluffy cat on her screen. It's face so scrunched up it made it look like a moody old man.

"Aww. Fitting name though. He does look really Sirius." He muttered in amusement .

His eyes flickering back up to watch her as she laughed loudly at his joke. Pride filling him at the sight of her beaming smile as she looked at him with bright eyes.

"Finally! Someone gets it!" She exclaimed happily . Almost bouncing on the edge of her seat in excitement .

"The amount of times I've had to explain his name is ridiculous.." she rose a brow at him , biting down on her lip in glee as she watched him giggle at her pun.

Charles felt some of his confidence return to him , like magic. Unable to believe that she was a Harry Potter nerd too. Who would have thought?

"Good one." He grinned shaking his head in amazement . Running a hand through his hair as he watched her suddenly stand up and drag her chair to the end of the table so that she was sat right beside him instead .

Resting her elbow on the table right beside his , she held up her phone between them as she flicked through her photos and stopped at one in particular .

"Oh my god. I knew you'd be a slytherin!" He laughed as he looked at the photo of her in slytherin uniform . Broomstick and all as she posed beside her cat who was also wearing a Hogwarts jumper , looking as unimpressed as ever .

Cherrie clicked her tongue . "Pretty obvious huh? And you're ..." she squinted her eyes at him thoughtfully . Tapping her finger against her lips as he grinned over at her shyly . Feeling a little self conscious from how intently she was looking at him.

"A Hufflepuff." She stated confidently. Nodding her head along with her words as she locked her phone and gave him her full attention instead .

Charles sighed long and hard . "Yeah. I'm not gonna ask how'd you know . I scream Hufflepuff don't i?" He mumbled with a sheepish smile .

Cherrie just laughed and nudged his shoulder with her own.

"You'd look good in yellow . Little badger." She whispered to him , wiggling her eyebrows teasingly . Before reaching over to fill another glance of wine , easily moving on like she hadn't just turned his world upside down .

Instead she got back up and wandered down the table to Daniel and lando who wanted to show her a new card trick they had learned on the way there.

Leaving Charles to exhale shakily and lean back

Against his chair. Pressing his hand against his rapidly beating heart .

A lovesick smile tugging at his lips as he watched her laugh at something the guys had said . Roasting them like no tomorrow as she easily guessed how they had done their trick .

Pierre glanced at his friend with a smirk , taking in his red face and heart shaped eyes as he watched her. Wondering what it would take for Charles to admit that he was in love .

The final time that Charles knew he was in too deep was a random Saturday night when he had finally picked up the phone and let Cherrie persuade him to hang out with her .

After making her promise him that there would be nobody else that he would be forced to socialise with and that she wasn't tricking him just to drag him out to some club she was always at . He finally agreed .

With his heart in his mouth and firmly telling himself over and over again that this was just a casual hangout between budding friends. That he could totally act like a normal guy and not embarrass himself for once . That everything was going to be okay .

He arrived at her apartment with a bottle of bubblegum wine that he had found after hearing Daniel rave about it to him one time . He figured Cherrie would like it. Even if she didn't she would still drink it . It wasn't in her nature to turn down alcohol . So that was one thing he didn't have to worry about .

But as she let him in with her blonde hair sectioned into two pieces and holding up a bottle of bright red hair dye in her hands. He felt his face fall. Oh god.

"Cherrie please don't tell me that you've brought me here to change careers." He pleaded as he placed the bottle of wine and chocolates he had also brought for her down onto her coffee table.

Standing in the middle of her front room with his hands pressed against his hips, staring fearfully at the bottle of hair dye that she was thrusting in his direction with a gleeful smile upon her pretty face . Dressed in just a baggy Ferrari shirt and nothing else . Charles wondered how much more his heart could take.

Giggling like a crazy person as she dashed to her front door and locked it so he couldn't escape . Returning to him to see him looking exasperated, pressing his hands over his face with a groan . Knowing that he had no choice but to go along with whatever crazy shit she wanted to do now.

"What's wrong with being my impromptu hairdresser? Fuck me. Bubblegum?!" She suddenly squealed as she picked up the bottle of wine and held it up to her eyesight . Looking like a kid at Christmas .

Charles grinned as he gently took the bottle from her hands and opened the cap.

"Where's your wine glasses?" He asked her while glancing over to her kitchen curiously . It was a mess. He wasn't surprised . She didn't seem like the neat and tidy type of woman anyways.

Cherrie just scoffed and gave him a judgemental look. Grabbing him by the arm of his sleeve and dragging him down the hallway and into her bathroom where her temporary salon would be.

"What are we? Old? We drink from the bottle like champions Charles!" She tutted at him as she took the bottle from his hands and took a long swig. Pulling it back from her lips after she had swallowed, letting out a impressed hum.

Licking her lips at the sweet taste "wow that was really nice." She murmured in actual surprise.

"Where'd you get this from? I want more."

Charles took the bottle back from her and took a small sip for himself . "Daniel. He's got a load of it. It's his favourite wine ." He mumbled taking another long sip as he watched her pull out a small stool right in front of the large mirror and sit herself on it . Once against thrusting the hair dye at him impatiently .

"Cherrie.." he groaned warily as he carefully took the bright red bottle from her hands . Glancing at her long blonde hair worriedly .

"Are you sure? I don't know what I'm doing and I don't want to be the one responsible for fucking your hair. You'll hate me if I mess up." He muttered nervously as he stood behind her . Taking another large gulp of wine because there was no way he could do this totally sober .

Cherrie just sighed as she tilted her head back so that she was looking up him upside down , Charles quickly reaching out to place his hand on the back of her neck to stop her from toppling off the stool and onto the floor .

"I could never hate you Charles . You're too cute to hate." She simply told him before straightening herself up again. Giving him another blinding smile that had his stomach feeling like a damn zoo.

"Just think of it as paint . You just need to cover all the blonde and then it's done . It'll look good." She said confidently as he began to gently take out one of the hair ties in her hair . Softly running his fingers through the strands to make sure there was no knots .

He sighed, heart fluttering in his chest at the trust she had in him "okay. You're right. Pass me the gloves." He mumbled . Quickly pulling them on and glancing nervously at the hair dye in his hands .

Hesitating long enough that Cherrie groaned and rolled her eyes at him playfully .

“Come on babe. It's not that hard I promise! Don't you think I’d look good In red?" She teased him . Wiggling her eyebrow at him once he looked up to catch her gaze in the mirror .

Flushing slightly, he looked back down at the bottle and pulled off the cap. Clearing his throat quietly as he started to squeeze the dye onto her hair , the bright red standing out against her usual white blonde .

"Of course you do. Red suits you best." He muttered honestly. Beginning to work more of it into her hair . Quickly catching on and getting through it all.

Cherrie smiled "see? You're doing so good! I knew you could do it Charles ." She praised him.

Watching with a keen eye as his skin lit up the same colour as her hair . Clearly he liked being praised. She'd keep That in mind for another time.

Taking another swig of the wine . She glanced into the mirror and looked at the matching red Ferrari tracksuit he was wearing . His hair all messed up and face soft and boyish as he concentrated on doing her hair .

Feeling her eyes soften as she took in how relaxed he looked now. He was always so jumpy around her . She could barely speak to him without him looking like he was going to run away. She hasn't actually expected him to agree to come to hers that night anyways . She just thought she'd try her luck .

Pierre told her it was because she made him nervous . That he didn't know how to act around her sometimes .

Cherrie knew that she could be too much sometimes . A little too loud. A little too chaotic . A little too much of everything .

But her dad had always told her that you could never be too much for someone who wanted all of you . So she wasn't going to change herself for anybody.

She just had to wait for the right person at the right time. She was sure of it . Someone would love her someday.

"Reds your colour too ya know.." she whispered to him after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence between them. Something else that was rare for her too.

She had always had a problem with silence . Always felt the need to fill in the gaps by running her mouth and chatting shit all the time.

But with Charles it was different . She didn't feel uneasy with the silence. She felt safe and at ease . She felt like she didn't have to put on a act or play up for him. She could just be herself .

She just liked being around him. He made her difficult mind go quiet. He made her feel calm. She didn't know why.

Charles peered up at her with a soft smile tugging at his mouth . Nervously Biting down on the corner of his lip once he noticed the honesty written all over her pretty face . She meant it.

"Thank you." He let out a shy chuckle . Finally finished with her hair. He carefully made a bun and wrapped a random hair tie around it to keep it in place at the back of her head . Pulling off his red gloves he placed them into the bin in the corner of the room . "All done. How long do we wait?"

She hummed as she took another swig of the nearly empty bottle . Passing it over to him so that he could have what was left .

Slowly getting up from her seat with a yawn, stretching out her back . Raising her arms above her head and till she head a click. Feeling her shirt raise above her hips and no doubt giving him an eyeful of lace . She didn't care .

"Half hour. Shall we open another bottle of wine up?" She asked him already heading to the kitchen anyways .

Charles grinned as he followed her out only to stop by the couch and gasp happily at the sight of the fat cat staring back at him.

"Sirius!" He exclaimed to the fat ginger cat who just meowed at him. Hurrying to kneel down on the floor beside him, he slowly put out his hand in front of him for the car to sniff .

"You're just as fat as your mommy said. So cute .. yes you are .." he said in a baby voice as he gently scratched behind his ears . The cat purring loudly as it closed its eyes in bliss.

"Hey! Don't call him fat! It's a secret!" She giggled as she came back into the room with another bottle of wine opened up.

Charles looked up at her with a grin "you mean he doesn't know that he can't fit through the cat flap?" He carefully stood to his feet before picking the cat up into his arms with a little difficulty.

"Sorry." He said to Sirius before taking his seat on the couch and putting the cat down on his lap. Stroking his fingers through its endless fur .

Cherrie shook her head with a smirk as she collapsed onto the couch beside him. Taking a drink from the bottle before she passed it over to him. Leaning over to grab the chocolates from the table , she flipped the lid and groaned in delight .

"Charles I could marry you. Wine and chocolates? Fuckin perfect." She sighed out happily . Missing the look of adoration he shot her as she shoved the biggest one into her mouth .

Sucking on the chocolate she leant back against the cushions and got comfortable . Turning her head to look at Charles who has done the same .

"Which one do you want?" She asked him nodding towards the chocolates .

He didn't look away from her smile . Still stroking Sirius in his lap.

“I want Cherry." He simply answered .

Cherrie paused for a second before giggling . Picking

Up the cherry flavoured chocolate and bringing it to his lips .

Shaking her head and feeling a little flustered as Charles leant forward and took the chocolate from between her fingers with his teeth.

"That could have went both ways. Cheeky Charles." She teased him as she flicked the end of his nose before turning on the tv and putting on Harry Potter on.

"Fuck yeah." He mumbled once he saw what she had put on . "The first movie is the best one." He said.

Cherrie thought then that she might be in love.

"It is. God. It's just perfect . The vibes are immaculate In this one . You know I used to have this huge crush on snape when I was growing up." She told him as she took another long swig from the bottle of wine . Her belly feeling warm and fuzzy as she blinked her eyes over at him with another giggle.

Vodka made her crazy. Wine made her giggly and tequila would get her pregnant . So strange.

Charles looked at her in disbelief , pulling a face at her as he reached for another chocolate from the box in her lap.

"Really? Why?" He laughed , eyeing her judgementally .

Cherrie simply shrugged . "Dunno. Think I liked the whole bad guy thing. I also had a thing for Draco

And Tom riddle too. So..." she trailed off grinning.

Charles looked at her like she was insane . "I don't get it . If there bad people or if they do bad things why does that make you want them? Why do you go for the Badboys?" He asked her curiously . Also hinting towards her real love life too.

She had a terrible track record of dating assholes. Or guys that looked like they could kill you in one go.

If that's what she wanted , then he stood absolutely no chance . He wasn't a bad boy. He hated staying up past midnight . He hated being stuck in crowds . He had cried when he accidentally stood on a ladybird .

He had also cried when a bird had smacked against his car window and died. Would she like that? Could he somehow spin his emotional sensitivity to be attractive? He didn't know how but he was willing to do anything to try.

Cherrie hummed as she thought about it. Her eyes scanning his face as she took in the soft freckles and pink tint of his lips. He looked so soft and cozy , she just wanted to melt into him.

"The thrill maybe? I'm not sure . I've never dated that type for more than a few weeks though .. so I don't think I'll date the bad boys ever again." She murmured to him before taking another swig of wine.

Her words were like music to his eyes . Hope filling him quickly . No more Bad boys to compete against . Amazing.

"I want true love. Ya know , the I can't live without you true love . I want want my mom and dad have." She told him as she stumbled up to her feet . Charles reaching out to press his hand against her back and arm as she swayed. The alcohol rushing to her head .

"It's time?" He asked while glancing at the clock to see that half an hour had passed . Gently ushering her into the bathroom , he pressed the button and carefully pulled off the shower head .

Cherrie giggled as she knelt down in front of him. Gazing up at him with rosy cheeks and glassy eyes.

Charles wasn't doing much better either as he laughed as he looked down at her. Putting his hand under the water to feel the temperature , flicking specks of water at her face once he was done.

Hiccuping she gripped his knees as she let him turn her around so that her back was facing the tub.

"Ya know I've been in this position many times before but never like this.." she smirked up at him. Giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows at him. Gently pinching his thigh just because she could.

Charles was confused for a moment , wondering what she was talking about , before finally glancing down at her on her knees in front of him and understanding .

Flushing red , he rolled his eyes with a drunken grin. The two bottles of wine really helping his confidence as he gently pushed her head back to hang over the tub.

"Well you need something new to spice up your life. I won't leave bruises , I'll only leave red hair." He slurred a little , blinking heavily to focus his eyes as he began to rinse out the dye from her hair .

Putting his own knees on either side of her hips as he leant over her , Cherrie watching from underneath heavy lids .

Scrubbing at her scalp to get the red out , he grinned down at her . Leaning down to bump the tip of his nose against her own just to hear her laugh again.

"What if I want bruises and red hair?" She cheekily asked him. Laughing loudly as he splashed her in her face again.

Tutting In fake disapproval , pursing his lips to try and contain his own sly grin. He shook his head .

"I could let you fall into this tub. That'd leave some

Bruises." He joked as he ran his fingers through her hair again. Making sure it was all out.

She pouted up at him . Feeling him grab her elbows to pull her back up to her original height. Closing her eyes for a moment as her head spun , she grimaced.

Charles watching her in concern as he gently ran his hand over the back of her head. Reaching over to grab a soft towel , he carefully wrapped it around her wet hair .

"You okay? Head rush?" He asked her quietly. Softly rubbing at her shoulder till she opened her eyes again.

Humming tiredly , she nodded her head . Rubbing the towel against her head .

She smiled. "You're so pretty." Was all she mumbled better staggering back Up to her feet and stumbling her way into her bedroom.

Leaving Charles to blush and run his hands over his face , giving himself a moment to gather himself before following her into her room.

Seeing Cherrie sat at the end of the bed as she hummed a song to herself , he looked over to her dressing table and picked up a de-tangle brush before walking over to the bed .

Crawling behind her so that he was leaning against the headboard before he spoke up, gently nudging her back with his foot to get her attention.

"Cherrie. Come here ." He softly said as she finally let the towel drop from her hair . Making his eyes widen in amazement .

"Wow it's so bright! Just like out cars. It looks amazing." He gushed In awe at the sight of her now bright red hair.

Cherrie grinned happily as she crawled over to him and slotted herself between his open legs so that her back was to his chest. Feeling him carefully section her hair before began he began to brush through it.

It was quite between them for a few minutes as Charles continued to brush out her hair till it was silky smooth .

Then he set the brush aside and simply wrapped his arm loosely around her neck and chest, sliding further down the bed so she was able to cuddle into his chest.

Turning on her front so that she could rest her chin on his chest , she slid one arm around his waist and hooked her leg up over his hip to get comfortable.

Yawning tiredly , feeling so safe and warm with him

As he carefully pulled up the cover so that it was over the both of them.

"How do you like your eggs Charles?" She asked him quietly after a few moments of them just looking at each other smiling .

He leant his head back against the pillow with a sigh of contentment . Unable to believe his luck.

Heart hammering in his chest so fast that he knew she must have heard it. Yet he was too drunk to care.

Gently running his fingers up and down her spine as he gazed down at her in awe. Taking in the soft slope of her nose and way her lashes naturally curled up towards her sharp eyebrows.

Before his eyes were finally drawn down to her softy and pouty lips that were tinted from the wine.

Swallowing quietly , he exhaled a little too shakily.

"Scrambled ." He finally answered . Low trembling.

"How do you like Your coffee?" He asked her just as quietly . Planning on running To the local cafe in the morning.

He felt her lips curve up against his chest. A soft giggle escaping her as she reached up to cup the back

of his neck in the palm of her hand. Squeezing gently.

"Sweet. Really sweet." She murmured softly before before titling her chin up and closing her eyes .

Charles just smiled as he tilted his head down to meet her halfway , pressing his lips against her softly . Tasting the sweetness from the wine and the chocolates they had consumed .

Humming against her mouth as he gently cupped the back of her head in his hand , scratching his nails against her scalp in a soothing motion that had her moaning against his lips .

Flicking her tongue up to taste the roof of his mouth , she titled her head to deepen the kiss before nibbling teasingly at his bottom lip. Pulling it back before finally pulling away enough so that they could breathe.

"I want pancakes for breakfast. With fresh fruit and syrup." She whispered to him as she softly traced the shape of his lips with her fingertip . Feeling him exhale shakily beneath her .

"An I prefer hot chocolate to coffee." She added as an after thought . Giggling.

Charles breathed out a giddy laugh . His heart so full it felt like it could explode . He could only hold her closer and tuck his face down into her neck. Kissing under her ear and against her jaw over and over again.

He was going to kiss her in every place on her soft skin that he had dreamed about .

He was going to caress her in ways that he had fantasied about since the moment he had met her .

Feeling his emotions bubble up , he swallowed down the lump in his throat as he kissed her again . Just because he finally could now.

"I'm in love with you." He finally admitted to what he had been denying for so long .

Pierre was right . He was a man in love.

Cherrie didn't seem too surprised . Only pleased as she kissed the corners of his mouth before kissing her way down to his chest , then pressing a kiss over his pounding heart .

"I know. You're not very subtle ." She breathed out a laugh of adoration before gently tapping his chest three times . "Luckily for you neither am I."

His smile lit up his face as he gazed up at her like she was his own personal heaven. "Yeah?"

She giggled at the look of disbelief on his face . As though he couldn't believe what she was saying. As though it was impossible for it to be true .

I love you

I’ll love you forever If you let me.

I want you . I want every part of you . The good , the bad. The promises. The dreams. The hopes.

He wanted to be her best friend .

She could never be too much for him, not when he wanted every piece of her.

He wanted her mornings , he wanted her evenings, he wanted her midnights .

He just wanted her. Bathed in the afterglow of their love.

"Yeah." She nodded her head softly in confirmation .

"Cause I'm in love with you too. I had to be. I've never waited this long for anyone in my entire life!" She joked , although it was true .

Patience really was a virtue she supposed .

Sometimes you’ll spend a lot of time chasing the wrong person when your light was their all along. Just waiting to guide you home.

Charles flushed with love before laughing loudly In total happiness . Pulling her back down to his chest and holding her close . Never planning on letting her go again.

Because she loved him. Him. Just him. All this time he had wasted being so afraid .

He would never let fear control him again. He was going to give her the world. He had plenty of lost time to make up for after all.

"I'm gonna get you the best damn pancakes and hot chocolate I can find." He promised her then. Making her giggle again.

"I'll hold you to it. I'll scramble those eggs too. And maybe in the morning you can give me the bruises too …now that you've given me the red hair." She teased him.

Charles just sighed blissfully , kissing her again. And again and again .

"Oh mon dieu. Je t'aime. pour toujours.."

#Charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #Charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #Charles leclerc fanfic

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hangmatts · 20 days

Text

jungle boy goes to matt for help.

[ set before full gear 2022 ]

—

word count: 1,036. also posted on ao3

—

Jungle Boy very rarely gets frustrated. He’s a very calm and relaxed person. But, when he keeps messing up his hair, he can’t help but get mad. He throws the hair tie down on the floor and tries not to yell.

It’s a basic hairstyle, one that he’s done many times. His hands can’t help but shake because of his nerves. He tries sitting and thinking about what to do. He listens to the pre-show talk about the in-ring return of the Elite when the idea hits him. If anyone knows anything about hairstyles, it’s Matt Jackson.

—

He finds himself at the door of the Elite’s locker room, afraid to knock. He’s not even sure Matt likes him or if visitors are even welcome. He comes to the conclusion that he needs Matt’s help. He quickly shakes off the nerves and places a knock on the door.

Nick opened the door, peeking his head out. He looked confused when he saw the young man standing in front of him.

“Jack?” He asked. “What’s up?”

“Oh- um, is Matt here?”

“Yeah? You need to talk to him?”

“Yeah, please? If that’s okay?”

“Of course it’s okay! Come on in!” Nick smiled and opened the door to invite him in.

—

Jungle Boy looked over to see Matt in front of a mirror, trying to style his hair.

“Matt, you have a visitor.” Nick said before sitting back down on the couch.

“Hm?” Matt turned around. “Oh, Jack! So nice to see you! What can I do for you?”

“Um. I was hoping you could help me style my hair?”

Matt’s face immediately lit up with excitement. He jumped out of his seat, causing Jack to step back.

“I would LOVE TO. Come sit in front of me.”

Jack sat in the chair in front of the mirror, inspecting everything. He messed with the tiny butterfly clips. He color coordinated the hair ties. He picked up Matt’s silver, dangly earrings and started messing with them.

“Do you like the accessories?” Matt asked.

“Oh- yeah, they’re fun. Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch them.”

“It’s okay. You can mess with them as much as you want.”

Matt leaned down to whisper the next part. “I can tell you’re a little nervous and if messing with my earrings calms you down, go ahead.”

“Thanks- thank you.” Jack smiled.

“So, what hairstyle were you thinking?”

“I just wanted a half up ponytail.”

“Oh, a classic! One of my specialties too! You came to the right place.”

“I tried doing it myself but I couldn’t get it. It always looked wrong or bad.” Jack explained.

“I get it. I mean, I truly believe if your hair is wrong, your entire life is wrong.”

“Who said that?”

Matt tilted his head, trying to think.

“I don’t know but I say it all the time so, I’m gonna say it’s a Matt Jackson original!”

Matt smiled, proud at himself for that answer. Jack just nodded in response. Nick overheard and rolled his eyes.

—

Matt grabbed out all the tools he needed.

“Now, do you want a silent appointment or do you want to talk?” He asked.

Jack lowered his voice. “I’d love to talk but I would prefer if it was just us? Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Matt responded before turning to face Nick. “Nicky, please leave.”

“What? Why?” Nick was confused.

“I prefer to work in a less crowded environment.” Matt made it up on the spot, just to make sure Jack felt comfortable.

“Crowded? I’m ONE person.”

“NICK! Go find Kenny and talk about sports or something!” Matt pointed towards the door.

Nick rolled his eyes, mumbling something about Matt being dramatic as he walked out of their locker room. Matt rolled his eyes back.

—

“So, what’s on your mind?” Matt asked, picking up the first tool he needed.

“You know what it’s like to fight your best friend, right?”

Matt nearly froze. “All too well.” He answered.

“How do you go on after? I feel like everything is gonna change. It already has changed, but it’s gonna be so different when this match is finished. What do I do with myself? How do I move on?”

“Well, everything is gonna change.” Matt started as he brushed Jack’s hair back. “But, that doesn’t necessarily mean for the worse. A lot of the times, change is good. You will find your way after this ends. It’s always difficult to move on but I just know you’re gonna go on to do greater things.”

“What do you mean?”

“When this match is over, when this whole mess with Christian is over, you should put it all behind you. You’re amazing at what you do, Jack. I truly believe you’re gonna be a world champion someday. You are a star.”

“You think so?” Jack asked, fidgeting with Matt’s earring.

“I know so.” Matt smiled. “And soon, the entire world will see it. You’re so special. One day, you’re gonna realize that.”

“That means so much coming from you.” Jack awkwardly smiled back.

“Well, I’m glad I could help. I’m all finished. What do you think?”

Jack examined his hair in the mirror. Something so simple, yet so efficient.

“It’s perfect. Exactly what I wanted. Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Of course! You know, you should come by some other time. I can put some of these clips in your hair. We could try out a bunch of different hairstyles together.”

“Yeah… I’d like that, actually.”

“Great! I’ll text you when I’m free.”

—

“Well, I should probably go. My match is on first.” Jack got up from the chair.

“Right, of course. One more thing.”

Jack looked at Matt confused. Matt leaned up to place a small kiss on Jack’s cheek.

“Good luck.” Matt said, pulling back.

Jack tried to ignore the blush quickly creeping up on his face. Matt noticed.

“Right! Thank you. I will see you some other time. Um- thanks for the hair and talk. Bye.” Jack quickly shuffled out of the room.

Matt couldn’t help but giggle at how cute Jack looked nervously blushing. He put his dangly earrings in and turned on the TV just to watch Jack’s match.

#my writing #matt jackson #jack perry #jackmatt #mattjack #fluff #nick jackson #jungle boy

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cariantha · 10 months

Text

Talk is Cheap (1/2)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Warning: Mentions of pregnancy Category: AU; Angst (with a happy ending) Word count: 1.5K Prompt: What would have been the outcome if Sawyer had discovered that she was pregnant whilst Ethan was in the Amazon? A/N: The theme song for this fic is “Go Get Her” by Restless Road. Part 1 of this AU follows my HC for E&S up until the unexpected event at the end. Part 2 will be posted in a couple days.

After Ethan rescinded his resignation from Edenbrook, he and Sawyer agreed to keep some distance until she was no longer an intern and he was no longer her boss. But that was easier said than done. Having crossed the line, they found it impossible to go back to their respective sides. They were able to keep up appearances at work, but after hours they spent their time together in Ethan’s apartment, hiding from the world.

Ethan was quick to share the exciting news with Sawyer as soon as he received the offer. He told her that he had been invited to join a team organized by the World Health Organization. The carefully selected team would be traveling to an indigenous village in the Amazon. They hoped to prevent the further spread of an unknown virus and provide much-needed medical care.

Sawyer had mixed feelings. She knew this was something he had always wanted to do, and she outwardly supported and encouraged his upcoming adventure. But inwardly, now that they were finally together, she selfishly wanted him to stay.

When Naveen announced Ethan as his replacement and appointed Sawyer to the diagnostics team, Ethan promised her that they would “figure it out.” Sawyer had no reason to believe otherwise. To date, they had successfully kept their secret under wraps. It wasn’t ideal, but if it meant they could continue to be together, why fix what wasn’t broken?

All too soon, the time came for them to say goodbye. Standing in his doorway, Ethan framed Sawyer’s face between his hands. He studied her face, committing her features to memory, before planting a final kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you in a couple months.”

“Will you check in once you’re there and settled?” Sawyer asked hopefully.

Ethan gave a nod, then watched as Sawyer flashed a sad but affectionate smile before walking away.

<><><><><><><><><><>

After a week with no contact, Sawyer tried to call him. No answer. She followed up a few days later with a text message. No reply. Two weeks had passed without a single acknowledgment from Ethan.

She gave him the benefit of doubt. He was in the jungle after all, and maybe communication with the outside world was a challenge. But as more days passed, she started to wonder if something had happened. Something that would make him shut everyone out, again. Like the time he thought he failed his mentor and quit his job.

With just a couple hours left of her shift one afternoon, Sawyer stepped onto the elevator to find Naveen dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. “Hey there, are you feeling okay?” she asked. Given his recent medical ordeal, she was immediately concerned.

“I’m fine, dear. Not to worry. I just came from outside.”

Acknowledging the unseasonably warm weather, Sawyer commiserated, “Being from Arizona, I can take the heat. But the humidity? Ugh. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“It can be downright uncomfortable. Though Ethan would probably welcome it given the climate where he's currently stationed. Poor fellow. His shirt has been completely soaked both times I’ve spoken to him.”

Sawyer felt a sudden stabbing pain in the center of her chest. Her heart slowly bleeding out, she tried to maintain her composure. “You… you’ve spoken with him?”

Naveen, who was once the nation’s leading diagnostician, knew immediately from the change in her tone and body language that something was amiss.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened to the fifth floor. Emotions betraying her, Sawyer swept a finger along her lower lashes to catch the tears that threatened to spill. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Naveen quickly pressed the button to close the elevator doors. “I have some tissues in my office,” he offered, reaching out to give her hand a quick squeeze. When the doors opened again, this time to the seventh floor, the chief led his personal lifesaver to his office. Once they were seated, he pushed a box of tissues toward her and asked, “When was the last time you spoke with him?”

“The night before he left town.” She told him that she had tried to call and text, but Ethan hadn’t responded. “I-I don’t understand. Things were good… we were good.”

Naveen offered consolation, sharing his disappointment in the man who had become like a son to him. “I’m sorry, Sawyer. He’s an idiot. Plain and simple. I can offer no other excuse for his behavior.”

Despite her heartbreak, she couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at his candor, grateful for the validation.

“I have heard the way he speaks about you. Seen the way he acts around you. He lights up! Do you know how rare that is? You are special to him, Sawyer,” he reassured. Then with a sigh, "One thing I've learned about Ethan is that he feels deeply, and when those feelings become overwhelming, he shuts down. If I had to hazard a guess, that's the reason he has ghosted you."

She nodded, processing the information. “I love that you know what ‘ghosting’ is,” she said with an appreciative smile. Not wanting to take up any more of his time, Sawyer stood to leave. “Thank you, Naveen. I should get back to my patients.”

A couple minutes later, as if summoned by the universe, Ethan’s name and picture appeared on Naveen’s vibrating phone. “Were your ears ringing just now?” Naveen answered.

His protégé furrowed his brow. "Why would they be?"

“I just had a chat with the newest member of the diagnostics team. You remember Sawyer, of course?”

Ethan huffed and shook his head in frustration.

With parent-like disappointment in his tone, Naveen asked, “What are you doing, son?”

Like an annoyed teenager, Ethan looked away from the camera. Whatever was or was not happening between him and Sawyer was none of Naveen’s business. Part of him blamed Naveen for putting them into this situation in the first place. As he gazed into the distance, carefully considering his response, Ethan missed when Naveen’s attention was momentarily diverted by a gentle rap on the door.

Sawyer poked her head in and pointed to the desk. “Sorry, I forgot my pager,” she mouthed.

Naveen gestured for her to come in.

“How is she?”

Sawyer froze when she heard the familiar voice, her terrified eyes flicking up to Naveen’s.

Looking back down at his phone screen, Naveen countered, “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“What?” The view in Ethan’s hand blurred before finally coming into focus on Sawyer’s equally panicked expression.

The lovers-turned-strangers stared at each other for an awkward moment until Ethan finally broke the silence. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she reciprocated, voice steady despite the thundering in her chest.

Naveen handed his phone to Sawyer. “Why don’t you kids catch up? I need to check in with my assistant before she leaves for the day.”

Reluctantly taking the phone, she watched Naveen retreat. Only after the door clicked shut did she turn her attention back to the now guilt-ridden face on the screen.

"How have you been?" he asked with trepidation.

Sawyer shook her head defiantly. She didn’t care about pleasantries. She wanted answers. Fighting back the tears that she had just gotten under control, she cut to the chase.

“I thought you and I… I thought we meant something to each other… I thought we were together,” she fumbled for the right words.

“We were.”

“We were? Past tense?” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Did I do something wrong? Something to upset you?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Sawyer.”

“Is there someone else?”

“No,” he said firmly with a shake of his head. “No.”

“Then why, Ethan?” she pleaded for understanding.

“For the same reasons I stopped things in Miami. I can’t be–if I am–your career is–and you mean too–”

The connection became unstable, with Sawyer only able to catch every few words that he spoke. “You keep cutting out… Ethan, you’re breaking up–” The screen suddenly turned black and the call ended. “You’re breaking up..." she repeated, the double-meaning not lost on her, “with me.”

Falling into a chair, Sawyer covered her mouth, muting the quiet sob that she could no longer contain. “God, I’m so stupid.” After a couple minutes, she sniffed back her tears and composed herself. Cracking the door open, she found Naveen with his hip perched on his assistant’s desk.

He couldn’t help but notice her reddened, blotchy cheeks. His questioning eyes met her bloodshot, swollen ones. Sawyer answered with a shake of her head, handed him his phone, then turned and briskly walked away.

<><><><><><><><><><>

A month later, Sawyer sat on a paper-lined exam table chewing on her thumbnail, waiting for the doctor to enter.

Knock, knock. A slightly older woman dressed in pink scrubs entered the room. “Hi Sawyer, I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Dr. Moore.”

“Hi,” Sawyer greeted. Not usually one to shy away from small talk, her anxiety made the task seem impossible.

Dr. Moore sat down on a low stool, wheeling closer to Sawyer with a tablet in hand. “I have your test results. Your pregnancy test is positive.” As the doctor spoke of conception and due dates, and suggested a quick ultrasound to confirm, a single tear fell from the corner of Sawyer’s eye.

Part Two

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