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marigoldenblooms · 26 days

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An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint.

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again! Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were.

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad.

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long, And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date.

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam.

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?”

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

------------------------------------------

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces.

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat.

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?”

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat.

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer.

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that.

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-”

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it.

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again.

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?”

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk.

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.”

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes.

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

#bearrrwrites #minors dni #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda smut #dom!wanda #sub!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #college au #one shot #smut fic #wlw ns/fw #god why was this so hard #once again #fuck it we ball

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nishik1 · 11 months

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you jealous, nishimura?

a nishimura riki smau <33

synopsis- Nishimura Riki and Park Y/N have been friends for years. At first glance, one may think the two are dating when in reality, they are just two best friends who refuse to admit they have crushes on each other! until one day, jealousy drives Nishimura Riki mad.

(basically niki confesses because he gets jealous)

pairing- non idol! nishimura riki x non idol! fem reader

genre- FRIENDS to LOVERS, he fell first she fell harder, high school au, model au, (enhypen are models), brother sunghoon bc why not :)

WARNINGS- this was made for entertainment purposes, this is a pure figment of my imagination. the way the idols are portrayed here is not how i view them!

status: on going!

started- 6/2/23

finished-

taglist: CLOSED (50/50)@en-chantedtomeetyou @yunicide @txtbrainrot @lizzyyaaaaaa @j-wyoung @beomgyusonlywife @spilled-coffee-cup @sungookie @telengraph @yajw @arizejkt19 @iea-tsand @k1ttylvr @solstramaii @soo0mi @jhopesucker @teddywonss @sumarchived @ramenoil @darwics @luvmura @beoms-sugar @haechansbbg @yumilovesloona @s00buwu @r1kitti @veryjeongintxtkid @sunnyglower @m111nho @enhaz1 @jerrykarrot @haechan-nahceah @kpopstanmeg @eloelooo @lunavixia @gyuudai @luvkpopp @yunjinlvrr @gweoriz @wiltspring @nikikids @meiiiwa @jiaant11 @rikizm @enhamysunshines @polarisjisung @cha3w0n-hearts @nhularin @soobs-things @hyunsllvr

(bold cannot be tagged)

ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST SMAU SO BARE WITH ME 😭😭

SPAM LIKE = BLOCKED

NOTES: this smau is going to have the main story, which is YNKI’S love story. as well as the side stories, which are basically like extra stories which I’ll make when I have writers blocks (you don’t have to read the extras they’re just for fun) UNRELEASED CHAPTER NAMES MAY CHANGE!!!

PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE 😭 IM GLAD YOU ENJOY THIS SMAU BUT PLEASE STOP SPAM LIKING!

profiles: ONE (future models??/newjeans) TWO (enha) THREE (enha privs) FOUR (extras)

MAIN STORY

chapters:

1. “we’re just friends”

2. he so likes her.

3. STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER

4. SHITS GOING DOWN

5. Y/N has W rizz confirmed?

6. huening kai (pt. 1)

7. huening kai (pt.2) smau + written

8. does she like him? smau + written

9. jealouski

10. yeah, i do. smau + written

11. FINALLY!!

12. NEW JEANS!! smau + written

13. project YNKi

14. convincing Eunchae

15. Hong Eunchae?

16. jealous jealous jealous girl~ smau + written

17. shes in denial

18. why must feelings feel? smau + written

19. acceptance smau + written

20. and they’re back

21. arcade!

22. Riki’s got competition smau + written

23. jealouski sensing are tingling smau + written

24. Welcome Jeongin!

25. GET HIM OUT 👺👺

26. its working 😈

27. HES LITERALLY HOWL⁉️

28. drama queen 🙄

29. bold Riki?!

30. SHITS GETTING A BIT TOO REAL

31. putting two and two together smau+ written

32. HAERIN YOU IDIOT

33. i missed you smau + written

34. i’m not okay (coming soon)

tba…

SIDE STORIES

chapters:

1. Niki and Eunchae’s hangout! (coming soon)smau + written

2. Jeongins event! (coming soon) smau+written

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mooshywrites · 2 months

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Echoes of Love and Loss ~ Part 5 ~ End

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commission

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - This is the last part!!! Writing this has landed a special place in my heart. Thank you so much for everyone who interacted with this series, ive genuinely loved seeing people frothing at the bit in the comments :,) Fr tho, reading those makes my day <3. One last huge thank you to @thoughts-of-bear for this story prompt, this series wouldn’t be here without it! <3 <3 <3

Word count - 3K

Warnings - Happy ending!!!!

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“You’re alive?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Part 3

Part 4

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

For a moment, the air itself seemed to still as Halsin's gaze lingered on your belly, his eyes widening in a mix of shock and realization. You could see the emotions play out on his face - disbelief, wonder, and a hint of joy flickering in his eyes. It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose and connection.

You took a hesitant step towards him, unsure of what this sight before you really was. The silence that had enveloped the cabin was almost suffocating, broken only by the sound of your own nervous breathing.

“Halsin?” you whispered again, the word barely more than a breath as you searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking. His gaze slowly rose from your stomach to meet yours once more, and in that instant, you saw a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

Your thoughts spun as you tried to come to grips with the man standing in front of you. You were still so sure that it was a figment of your imagination.

He couldn’t really be alive in front of you. Could he?

Without a word spoken between you, Halsin crossed the remaining distance and reached out a trembling hand towards your stomach. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if he couldn't quite believe what his senses were telling him. You felt a surge of warmth at his touch, a feeling of connection that you had thought lost forever. The pressure of his calloused fingertips against you was the confirmation you needed.

He was here. He was alive.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked into his face, searching for some answers in the depths of his gaze.

Halsin's hand lingered on your stomach for a moment longer before he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought... I thought I had lost everything. But here you are.” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning,

“Carrying a piece of me.” He finished, his voice cracking

You reached out to clasp his hand against your belly, a sob catching in your throat as the weight of his words settled over you both. The tears streamed freely down your cheeks, a mixture of joy, relief, and sorrow mingling together in a tumultuous storm of emotions. Halsin's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he gazed at you, his thumb gently caressing the curve of your stomach.

In that moment, the months of pain and longing seemed to melt away, leaving only the present - a fragile yet infinitely precious gift. You could feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your very soul, knitting together the shattered pieces of your heart.

“I never thought I would see you again,” you whispered, your voice raw with emotion. Halsin's grip tightened around yours, as if anchoring him self to this newfound reality.

“And yet here we are.” He murmured, his voice filled with wonder and gratitude.

“Here you are.” You choked out happily, throwing yourself in the Druid’s arms.

He caught you with an teary chuckle, holding you tight though his arms shook with emotion.

You clung to Halsin, the reality of his presence sinking in as you buried your face in his chest. The scent of pine and earth enveloped you, grounding you in the moment. It was a whirlwind of emotions - relief, joy, disbelief all crashing into you at once. Halsin held you close, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your ear.

“I've missed you so much,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

His arms tightened around you, a silent reassurance that he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere. The baby stirred within you, as if sensing the shift in the energy of the room.

Halsin stilled before setting you gently back onto the ground. His hand came back to your bump, resting atop where the baby had just kicked. His eyes were wide with intrigue, as if he couldn't quite believe the life burgeoning within you. You watched as a tender smile spread across his face, a mixture of awe and adoration illuminating his features. It was a sight you had dreamed about seeing, your Druid feeling your baby kick.

“When is the babe due to come, my heart?” Halsin murmured, his voice filled with wonder as he looked at you with newfound clarity. “It hasn’t been too hard of a pregnancy, I hope.”

You reached out to cup his cheek, your touch feather-light against his weathered skin. You couldn’t help but giggle at the casualness of the question. It was something a lover would ask the other without much thought, definitely not something to expect in a reunion between two who thought each other dead.

“Soon,” you whispered, the words still wet with tears. “And it’s been absolutely hellish, I’ll have you know.” You smiled.

Halsin's laughter filled the room, a sound that warmed your heart and eased the lingering tension between you. It was a sound you had feared you would never hear again, a piece of him that had been missing for far too long. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gazed down at you, a lightness to his expression that you had almost forgotten.

“Well, I suppose I'll have to make it up to you then,” he said, his voice tinged with affection. “I'm here now, aren't I? And I don't plan on going anywhere.”

You felt a surge of gratitude wash over you, grateful for this second chance that fate had given you. The past seemed like a distant memory. The loneliness and heartache that you had felt so strongly seemed as if they had never existed in the first place

As the evening sun cast long shadows across the cabin floor, you found yourself enveloped in a sense of peace that you thought was lost. The flames crackled in the wood burning stove, casting dancing shadows across the walls of the hut as you and Halsin sat together, basking in the warmth of each other's presence. The weight of the years apart seemed to fade with each passing moment, hushed whispers and laughs as the two of you caught up.

Halsin couldn’t believe you had fixed the little shack up all on your own, seeming to be thankful of your resourcefulness. The Druid’s hand remained protectively on your belly, his touch a constant reassurance of the life growing within you. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as you listened to the comforting sound of his steady heartbeat. The world outside seemed to blur into insignificance, leaving only the two of you cocooned in a bubble of affection and contentment.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

One day later ~

The morning light filtered through the cabin's windows, painting patterns of warmth on the wooden floor. You woke to find Halsin already up, tending to the stove with a focused expression. Absentmindedly, you wondered if he had slept at all. The bed you had fitted to the side wasn’t all that big and you tented to be a bit of a blanket hog. In truth, you almost jumped out of your skin when waking to the sight of the large elf in your home,not remembering the emotional reunion you’d had while still shaking off the morning’s drowsiness.

You watched Halsin for a moment, taking in the sight of the man who had come back to you against all odds. The events of the previous day felt like a dream, but the solid reality of Halsin's presence beside you grounded you in this newfound truth.

As if sensing your gaze on him, Halsin turned towards you with a soft smile. “Good morning, my heart,” He greeted, his voice warm and filled with affection. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “As well as can be expected,” You replied, pushing yourself up into a sitting position. The baby kicked within you, reminding you of why your sleep left much to be desired. A grimace fell across your face as a dull ache shot through your hips. You must have slept worse than you thought.

Halsin approached you, his eyes soft with concern as he knelt beside you, one hand instinctively going to your belly. “Is everything alright?” He asked, his voice laced with worry. You could see the fear flicker in his eyes, a reflection of your own anxieties about the life growing inside you.

You placed your hand over his, offering a reassuring squeeze. “I think the little one is just a little antsy this morning. A bit eager to meet their father after yesterday.” You said with a chuckle, trying to ignore the soreness.

“I can't wait to meet them too,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so tender, so full of love and promise that it brought tears to your eyes once again.

As Halsin helped you to your feet, you froze suddenly, feeling your body react in a way that could only mean one thing. Halsin looked on, growing concerned as the blood drained from your face.

“My heart?” He prodded. “What’s the matter?”

You looked up at him, giving the Druid a pained smile. “I don’t think you’re going to have to wait that long.”

Halsin’s eyebrows furrowed, his expression oozing confusion.

“Halsin.” You sighed, gripping his arm as another wave of pain hit you. “My water broke. I’m going into labor.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

One week later

You couldn't help but let out a soft giggle as you watched Halsin gently rock the newest addition to the Grove in his arms. The baby, only a handful of days old, had already captured the hearts of your friends who had visited earlier in the day. You, on the other hand, were mostly excited to have someone other than you and Halsin there to hold the very loud little tyke. And thankful. Thankful that Shadowheart had explained the situation to your companions and you didn’t have to answer millions of questions.

The group cooed and fawned over the tiny bundle, their faces filled with joy and wonder at the miracle of new life. Shadowheart, in particular, seemed to take a surprising shine to the infant.

The baby, however, was not thrilled with meeting so many new faces. The sweet baby girl seemed overwhelmed by the multiple voices, very quickly throwing a fit as soon as she was passed outside of Halsin’s arms.

Halsin chuckled softly, a look of adoration in his eyes as he cradled the fussing infant, rescuing her from her captors after a few piercing minutes. “It seems she's inherited her mother's spirited nature,” he remarked with a smile, trying to soothe the baby in his arms. The others slowly filtered out, leaving the cabin to you and Halsin once more. The little one, however, continued to cry, her face scrunched up in distress.

You reached out, taking the baby into your own arms and began to rock her gently. The sound of your voice seemed to have a calming effect, and soon the infant quieted, gazing up at you with big, curious eyes. Halsin watched the tender moment between mother and daughter, a softness in his expression that spoke volumes.

“She has your eyes,” Halsin observed quietly, his voice filled with emotion. You looked up at him, seeing a hint of tears shimmering in his eyes.

“She has your tears.” You giggled, reaching up to brush the droplets from his eyes.

He laughed along with you, cupping your hand against his cheek.

“I can't help it,” Halsin admitted, his voice tinged with wonder. “It's just...overwhelming, seeing her. Seeing you.”

You nodded in understanding, feeling the weight of his emotions mirrored in your own heart. The tiny bundle in your arms squirmed slightly, letting out a soft coo that made both you and Halsin smile.

As you settled into the new rhythm of parenthood, with all its challenges and joys, a sense of peace settled over both your new little family and the Grove. The trees whispered their secrets in the wind, the animals went about their daily routines and most wonderfully,

your little girl continued to grow.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

One year later.

The past year had been a whirlwind of joy and discovery. Your baby girl, now a rambunctious toddler, brought endless energy and laughter into your lives. She toddled around the Grove with determination, her chubby little legs propelling her forward as she explored every nook and cranny with wide-eyed wonder.

The more time you spent in the grove, the more you were comfortable being apart from your cabin. You knew it was always a walk away in the evening and being around the Druid’s was good for your soul. A soul that was no longer so content with loneliness.

You and Halsin watched in amazement as your daughter discovered the world around her, her curiosity seemingly boundless. The animals of the Grove had taken a liking to her, following her around like loyal companions as she babbled happily to them in her own toddler language.

Sometimes, you even thought they might understand her blubbering speech better than her own parents.

One sunny morning, you sat under the shade of a towering oak tree, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above. Your daughter was playing nearby, her giggles filling the air as she chased after a butterfly that fluttered just out of reach.

Halsin joined you, a soft smile on his face as he watched your daughter's antics. “She's grown so much in such a short time.”

“Mhm.” You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut. “She’s taken years off my life, that’s for sure.”

Halsin chuckled at your remark, the sound blending harmoniously with the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. He reached out a hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, a silent reminder of affection.

“She is a handful, that's for certain. But that’s not at all a bad thing.” He said softly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love for both you and your daughter.

As you sat beneath the ancient oak tree, a sense of contentment washed over you like a warm embrace.

Your daughter toddled over, her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as she plopped down on the grass next to you. She held out a tiny flower she had picked, her eyes shining with delight.

“Mama, dada, fower!” she presented the flower with a proud grin, her little fingers clutching it tightly as if it were the most precious treasure in the world. You and Halsin exchanged a knowing glance, both hearts swelling with love for this tiny bundle of joy that had brought so much happiness into your lives.

Halsin leaned forward, his voice filled with mock seriousness as he examined the flower with exaggerated scrutiny. “Ah, I see,” he began in a grave tone, “A rare specimen indeed. A gift from Silvanus himself, presented to us by the most beautiful little flower Druid in all the land.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics, your daughter joining in with her infectious giggles. Halsin then turned to you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Perhaps she takes after her mother, always bringing beauty and magic wherever she goes.” He grinned

You playfully swatted his arm, a smile tugging at your lips. “Flattery will get you nowhere Halsin.”

“It seemed to get me quite close to you once upon a time.” He teased under his breath.

“Halsin!” You chided, your cheeks going red. Thankfully, your daughter had already waddled off, taking a new interest in a new critter in the distance.

Halsin couldn't help but chuckle at your embarrassment, finding immense joy in teasing you. He leaned back against the tree, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, don't be so ashamed of those o’ so passionate nights, my heart. You know I speak only the truth," he said with a grin, his tone lighthearted.

You rolled your eyes before giving him a coy smile.

“What is that look for?” Halsin threw you a weary glance.

You couldn't contain the excitement bubbling within you any longer. As Halsin glanced at you with mild confusion, a mischievous twinkle lit up your eyes.

“Speaking of passionate nights, my dear Halsin," You began, unable to keep the playful tone out of your voice, “I have news that might just topple the trees of this Grove with its enormity.”

Halsin raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on his lips. “Pray tell, my heart, what grand revelation do you bring to me on this serene day?”

You leaned in closer, the grin on your face widening as you whispered dramatically, “I'm pregnant again.”

The words lingered in the air, and for a moment, silence enveloped the space between you two. Then, Halsin's eyes widened in astonishment before a joyful laugh erupted from his chest.

“Pregnant again?” hHe exclaimed, disbelief and elation mixing in his voice.

You nodded in confirmation, a radiant smile lighting up your face as you watched the realization sink in on Halsin's features. His laughter filled the air like music, blending with the sounds of nature and birdsong of the Grove in a symphony of joy.

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively as if you would disappear if he let go. “Another child,” He murmured against your hair, his voice filled with wonder and happiness.

“Anodder what?” Your daughter trilled, appearing in front of you like a mischievous imp, her eyes wide with curiosity at the joyous commotion.

Halsin released you from his embrace and scooped up your daughter, swinging her around in a circle as he laughed heartily. “Another sibling for you, little duck! Can you believe it?” He exclaimed, his eyes crinkling at the corners with pure delight.

Your daughter squealed with glee, her laughter blending with Halsin's like a melody of pure happiness. You giggled at her excitement, knowing she probably had no idea what was going on. All she knew was that the two of you were excited and she couldn’t help but be a part of it.

In the midst of laughter and joy, the world around you seemed to shimmer with newfound magic. The Grove itself hummed with a vibrancy that seemed to echo your own emotion. Your daughter clapped her hands with excitement, her tiny face aglow with happiness, as Halsin twirled her around in a playful dance.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting an ethereal golden light over the clearing, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the beauty of this moment. The warmth of Halsin's presense, the sound of your daughter's laughter, and the promise of new life blossoming within you created a tapestry of love that enveloped you entirely.

And so, as the day faded into twilight and the stars began to peek out from behind their velvet curtain, you knew that the next day would bring nothing more than peace and happiness.

“What’s a ‘sih-bwing’?” A tiny voice cut through the serenity.

You giggled, watching as Halsin tried to explain the idea to your very confused toddler. Perhaps ‘peace’ was a little too much to ask for.

But in the end,

You couldn’t want for more.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

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cameronspecial · 4 months

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Assisting In Deception Masterlist

Y/N can't go to another family even solo and Rafe needs someone to help him prove to the media he isn't who his employees say he is, so why can't they help out each other? Her boss suggests that they pretend to date definitely through Y/N off track, but she takes the offer nonetheless. Will their assisting in deception stay a figment of an agreement or will they find something more with each other?

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Relationship Soft Launch | Relationship Reveal

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bytheinaya · 10 months

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𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐉𝐉𝐊

Summary: Jeon Jungkook has a crush on you, the girl everybody wants to be like. You were usually called a good fuck by the guys in college, they weren't wrong. Jeon was smart, and you took advantage of that when you needed help in your studies, but in return, he asked you for something. It was a deal Pairing: Soft! Jungkook X Motorcyclist! Reader Friends with benefits AU, Motorcyclist AU, college AU genre: Smut, fluff. Warnings: Soft Jungkook, Dominant reader, smut, angst. !! I am not sexualizing Jungkook, the character portrayed in this story is simply a figment of my imagination, This is all just FICTION!!

(This story will be parted)

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you glance over your shoulder to find the stranger sleeping peacefully next to you. Furrowing your brows in frustration, you stand up and grab your scattered clothes on the floor, feeling a mix of emotions rushing through you. With each step towards the bathroom, you can't help but ponder the events of the previous night, wondering how you ended up in this situation. You decide to take a long, hot shower, hoping that it will wash away not just the physical remnants, but also the lingering memories. As you dry yourself off and get dressed, you can't help but feel a sense of urgency creeping in. You grab your keys, wallet, and phone, stealing one last glance at the stranger before you silently slip out of the room.

Walking out of the building and into the morning air, you take a deep breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. The new day brings with it a sense of freedom, a chance to leave behind the night before and begin anew. Making your way towards your motorcycle, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement as you turn the engine on and embark on your journey home. Glancing at your watch, you realize that time is of the essence. It's already 5:30, and you have a strict schedule to follow. You remind yourself that you need to get to college in 2 hours, fill your gas tank, change at home, and then head off to college.

As you speed through the streets, the roar of the motorcycle fills your ears, drowning out any other thoughts or worries. The wind caresses your face, and you feel the raw power of the engine beneath you. In this moment, you find solace from the struggles and challenges of life. The city lights twinkle like stars, casting a mesmerizing glow on the pavement as you navigate through the night. It's as if the world around you is in harmony, offering a brief respite from the chaos that often engulfs your mind.

It's moments like this that offer a sense of refuge, especially when your parents are too preoccupied with their own lives to notice yours. The wind is like a friend, gently reminding you that, although your parents may be uncaring, there are still moments of beauty and peace in the world. These moments of solace provide a sanctuary from the chaos that surrounds you, allowing you to find strength in the midst of familial neglect.

As you park your bike in front of the huge mansion you never seemed to be proud of, you enter the home. It was empty as always, not even able to be called a home. The silence echoes through the halls, emphasizing the emptiness that permeates every corner. You take a deep breath and look around, allowing the memories to flood your mind. Everything was so familiar yet so distant, a bittersweet reminder of the life you once had. The weight of sadness settles in your chest.

"You're finally home, where were you all those days?" The female voice asks. It's your childhood nanny, more like your mother for you. She smiled and gently stroked your hair, her touch a soothing balm to your weary soul. You felt like you were finally home, a place where love and acceptance are unwavering. You hugged her tightly, grateful for the stability she provides in a world filled with uncertainty. As you pull away, a bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a reflection of the disillusionment you feel towards your own family "You know Liz, what's even so great in this home". She follows your lead, understanding the depth of your emotions. She looked at you with a soft gaze and said, "No matter where you are, this place will always be home. You are loved here and always will be". Her words resonate deeply within you.

You smiled and hugged her again, feeling the warmth of her embrace and the comfort of the home you had come back to. "Loved only by you, I wonder if my parents know I exist or not" You smile as you pull away, she could see the sadness glistening in your eyes. But you were cold, she saw coldness in your eyes. She hugged you tighter, as if trying to shield you from the harsh realities of the world. She said, "Of course they do. They may not be here to show it, but they care about you." Her words may be a mere consolation, but they offered a glimmer of hope in the midst of your doubts. As she kissed your forehead and held your arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for her unwavering support.

You knew she said that just to make you feel better about it, but you didn't mind it. As you smile back, a sense of determination fills your heart. You inform her that you'll be heading up to your room to get a bath and get dressed, eager to wash away the weariness of the night before, though you did take a shower at the stranger's home, you felt the need to have another bath. She nods in response, understanding the need for personal space. You walk up the stairs, feeling a little better, knowing that you have someone who cares deeply about your well-being. You take a long, hot shower, and as you dress up, you felt a warmth inside of you, a warmth that she gave you. This feeling of being loved and valued reminds you that you are not defined by your parents' neglect, but by the love and support you receive from those who truly matter.

As your motorcycle gracefully pulls up at the college's designated parking spot, you can't help but notice the numerous gazes fixated on you. It's a familiar sensation, one that you've grown accustomed to over time. Your hands instinctively reach for the head helmet, pulling it off and revealing your face to the curious onlookers. Your hair, meticulously tied up in a high ponytail, cascades down your back, adding to your captivating presence. The glint of the lip piercing on your bottom lip catches the sunlight, accentuating your edgy allure.

Unbeknownst to you, a few meters away, Jungkook discreetly observes as you effortlessly dismount from your sleek black bike. His eyes are glued to you, captivated by your every move. The grip on his books tightens as he continues to admire you in awe. His heart beats vigorously inside his chest, and a comforting warmth spreads through his entire being. Despite his desire to approach you, fear holds him back. He watches wistfully as you stroll away, yearning for the courage to introduce himself. Little does he know, the whole school is well aware of his infatuation, and that includes you.

Curiously, you have never seen his face before. You are only familiar with his name, or perhaps not even that, as it has never held any significance to you. His feelings are of no concern to you, and you have no interest in getting to know him. The constant reminders of his supposed crush on you have always been met with indifference. It simply doesn't matter to you, not him, nor anyone else for that matter.

With each confident click of your boots on the concrete floor, you stride into the familiar halls of the cherished college. The usual prying eyes follow your every step, but you remain unaffected. Head held high, you continue walking, undeterred by the curious gazes around you. Your singular focus is on reaching your destination - the classroom. As you enter, you seamlessly settle into your designated seat, comfortably awaiting the arrival of the professor. In the meantime, you effortlessly scroll through your social media feed, completely oblivious to the anticipation building in the room. The modern classroom is a busy hub of activity. As students arrive, their conversations are a mix of excitement and anticipation. The professor finally enters, and the room is silenced by a wave of respect. You can feel the energy of the room shift as the professor begins their lecture. You make a valiant effort to absorb the information being shared. The professor's words blend together in a harmonious melody, and you find yourself completely engrossed in the captivating discourse.

Your grades were dropping, and it's not like you care about it. Once your parents find out, your life will be hell, not like it isn't already. You need to figure out a way to get your grades back up, or you'll never hear the end of it. They'll cut you off everything, and you can't afford that. You start to consider your options - studying more, asking for help, or hiring a tutor. And it clicks. Once the period is over, you head up to..what's his name again? However, you head up to him, and he sat in the corner, head buried in his books for the next period. You tap him on the shoulder, and he looks up, a little surprised but strangely pleased. Jungkook would've never expected you out of everyone. Your voice softer than usual you speak: "Uhm, Jungwon right?" The man chuckled shaking his head and you ponder what had been so funny. "Jungkook, Y/N" He smiles as you look away embarrassed. "yeah, uh sorry" Scratching the nape of your neck you abruptly sit down next to the man, his eyes focused on you as he closes his books and places them on the table. "It's okay," he reassures you, an amused smile playing on his lips as he looks at you with an appreciative gaze. You feel a sense of relief wash over you as you realize that you might have found a solution to your academic struggles. "I need your help," you finally admit, your voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. The man is shocked by your sudden remark, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Looking around the classroom, you try to avoid his gaze as you speak. "Help? from me?" He asks genuinely confused, his eyes searching yours for an explanation. Your eyes find his again as you sigh, summoning up the courage to share your plea. You nod, feeling a little bit embarrassed but determined to salvage your grades. "Yes, I need your help. I'm struggling with this class, and I was wondering if you could spare some time to assist me." The man sitting next to you in class is renowned for his exceptional intelligence. He always knows the answer to the professor's questions, and he consistently earns top grades on his tests. You, on the other hand, find yourself constantly lagging behind, desperately trying to keep up. " I don't know Y-" In a moment of vulnerability, you cut him off, intertwining your hands with his, and begging him earnestly for his guidance. "Please, Jung...uhm, I mean, please help me. I can't afford to fail," you plead, your eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and determination, hoping that he will see the sincerity in your request and offer his assistance with your studies. Jungkook simply shakes his head at you, his expression softening as he takes in your words. "I don't know, Y/N," he says quietly, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want to see you fail, but I don't know if I can help you." You take a deep breath and mustering all your courage, you straighten your back and look Jungkook in the eyes. "Please," you say, your voice barely audible. "I'll do anything. I need your help." The man sighs as he looks away for a brief moment. Jungkook looks back at you and nods slowly. "Okay. I'll help you." There is a sudden flurry of joy filling your eyes as you leap up in utter joy. "Thank-" This time he cuts you off and says "But, you'll have to help me too..." You shoot a brow up wondering what he needed help with. "So, there's this...girl." You can't help but burst out in laughter, though he doesn't look as happy as you do. "Oh sorry, continue," You say trying to hold in your chuckles." I need your help to teach me everything you can, for me to be able to ask her out." The situation is so funny that you can't help but laugh. You can't believe that he needs your help to ask out a girl. It's like a scene out of a movie. "Fine, I guess it's a deal?" He nods. "You don't need to pay me, just teach me" You reluctantly agree, even though you're still laughing inside. You tell him that you'll try your best to help him. He thanks you for your help and you both head your separate ways. Not before trading numbers.

Your curiosity reaches its peak when you wonder about who the girl Jungkook likes might be. As you drive through the street on the way to your home, the wind hits your face giving you the sense of freedom you urge for. Your thoughts are still lingering around the mysterious girl Jungkook likes as you arrive at your home. You know about the possible rumors surrounding you and him but you can't help but wonder who it was and why Jungkook wanted to change himself for her.

As you step inside your house, you find yourself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. You ponder over the countless possibilities of who this girl could be, and the reasons why Jungkook would go to such lengths for her. It's a mystery that keeps you intrigued, and you can't help but let your imagination run wild with each passing moment.

"1...2...3..." The man counts as he does his daily reps of pushups. His upper body exposed and coated with sweat. He stops for a moment, out of breath, he lays on the ground and looks up at the ceiling. His thoughts drift back to the girl who head up to him earlier in the day, you, he smiled to himself of how you looked so embarrassed when saying his name wrong. Sweat glistens off his toned body, his muscles contracting as he moves. He shook his head, chuckling at the memory. He stood up and grabbed his towel to wipe off the sweat. "You know you could just confess to her and move on with it?" A deep voice resounded in the gym. Taehyung, Jungkook's best friend, spoke. "I don't know what you're talking about," Jungkook said, trying to play coy. He knew that Taehyung saw right through him, but he didn't want to admit it. "Come on kook, helping her with tuition, lying about some girl just to be able to spend time with her? I'm dumb but not that dumb" Jungkook wanted to know you better, he wanted to get to know you better. He wanted to be able to talk to you and spend time with you. Taehyung smiled, he could tell Jungkook had a crush on you. He could see that Jungkook was trying to hide it, but he knew the truth. Taehyung knew that Jungkook was willing to do anything to get closer to you.

"Do I really need to say anything to you?" Jungkook casually tosses his towel over his shoulder while settling himself onto the chest press machine. Taehyung lets out a laugh, takes a swig of water and proceeds to complete his push-ups. "Nah, I already know what you're experiencing," Taehyung remarks with a smirk. Jungkook rolls his eyes and commences his workout. Taehyung observes him for a moment before resuming his own exercises, privately amused by the younger one's demeanour.

Tags: @ottergirl

#my writing #bts #bangtan #books #fanfic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #taehyung #jungkook smut #jeon jungkoooook #jeon jungkook #fem reader #x reader #fluff #smut #x you #female reader

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year

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Remember You Even When I Don't (5)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.4K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, eventual smut

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

Buckle in, folks!

-----

He spends that first night tossing and turning, fighting to find sleep. It’s hard for him to be down the hall, knowing you were so close, yet so far out of his reach. In only a few days, he had gotten used to falling asleep and waking up with you in the chair beside his bed. The next morning, you somehow look more tired now than you had the whole time he was in the hospital, and he was sure that he was the same.

Being here was different than he anticipated. Part of him expected to walk into this house and have every memory he’d lost rush back to him in technicolor. He was disappointed when that didn’t happen, and he thinks that even if you won’t say it, you are, too.

He didn’t remember anything, but his instincts were there. He knew which drawer held the utensils and which cabinet housed plates and bowls and which one had coffee cups. He knew where the two of you kept Florry’s food and that her treats were kept in one of the drawers in the coffee table. It was muscle memory, he supposed.

But his brain tickled sometimes, like it wanted to remember something but couldn’t. He often felt that frustrating sensation of something being right there on the tip of his tongue, but he’s unable to produce exactly what it is.

He dreams every night. His subconscious creates scenes of flying and crashing ocean waves, of snow covered streets and twinkle lights. He swears your laughter echoes in his ears when he rouses to consciousness.

He doesn’t know if they’re memories, or if they’re figments brought on by the yearning he feels toward you the longer he’s around you. Either way, they’re never quite clear enough for him to even ask you about them. But he sneaks into your office one night and swipes a pen and a pad of sticky notes and takes to writing down all the details he can recall when he wakes up.

Over the first few days of being home, the two of you get into a tentative routine. You somehow wake before he does, and there’s coffee waiting for him when he makes his way downstairs. You’re not much of a breakfast person, but you make him eggs and bacon and toast or whatever he’s in the mood for, even if he insists you don’t have to. You take him to his follow up appointments or evaluations, which takes up his time until the early afternoon. The two of you have taken to grabbing lunch while you’re out everyday, before going back to the home you share and making yourselves busy until dinner.

He finds himself wanting to touch you more. There were no more forehead kisses, but his knee will knock against yours sometimes when the two of you are eating. He always holds the door open for you whenever you two are out, and sometimes you’ll brush against him just so when you’re passing by. When the two of you are walking somewhere, his fingers twitch to hold onto yours. He’s taken to placing his hand near your lower back, not quite touching you, but close enough where he can feel your body heat.

You like to curl up in the corner of your sectional couch, and he feels like you’re a million miles away when he sits on the other end.

Getting to know you again is a whirlwind of feelings he doesn’t understand. You’re kind, and beautiful, and you make him laugh. He has near constant butterflies in his stomach whenever you’re around.

He knows himself well enough to know that he’s developed feelings for you, and the concept makes his head hurt, knowing this isn’t the first time but not remembering it. He doesn’t mention it to you, because he doesn’t know if it would make things better or worse.

He wants to ask you questions about the two of you, too. You told him how you met, but he wants to know what your first date was like. He wants to know who said I love you first, though he thinks it was him. He wants to know how he proposed after only 4 months of knowing you and he wants to know why you said yes.

He wants to know everything, but he can’t bring himself to ask. Part of him is scared of the answers.

He’s seen the way you look at him, sometimes. Like it breaks your heart for him to be there with you, even though he knows how relieved you are for him to be. You don’t say anything to him, but he knows that you’re struggling. You do your best to always keep a smile on your face around him, but it’s your eyes that give you away, combined with this deep instinct he seems to have when it comes to you and your emotions.

After dinner every night, you’ve been finding yourselves sitting out on the back porch. The weather has been getting cooler and watching the sun go down with you has become his favorite part of being home. You avoid anything too heavy, too intimate, but you regale him with different tales from the last few years with your friends and your individual careers, or of you before you knew him, but the light in your eye is dim whenever you finish a tale and there’s no recognition in his.

He’s worried about you, but he doesn’t know if he has the right to tell you that. There’s something of a tension building in the air, and he can’t figure out how to cut through it just yet.

But he enjoys getting to know you again, and he hangs onto your every word. He loves every single moment the two of you have together and craves more of them. Even the most mundane of things, like when he went with you to the grocery store of all places. Phoenix had loaded their kitchen with essentials, but there was a specific recipe you were wanting to make that you swore he would love but that you needed a few things for. You looked surprised when he had asked if he could go with you, but pleased at the same time.

He pushed the cart as you checked things off your list and god, he loved watching you. You were looking up and down the aisle you were standing in, seemingly a little puzzled, and he was completely enraptured.

“I can never remember where the dates are,” you muttered, and he thinks it might have been only to yourself, but he couldn’t help but smirk a little bit.

“On a calendar?”

You shot him a look, looking incredulous but amused, and smacked him lightly on the arm with the list you were carrying. The touch sent a shot of electricity through him and he laughed, feeling warm. “Ow.”

“Okay, you comedian,” you rolled your eyes playfully, “I was going to make you dessert, but maybe I won’t now,”

“No, come on,” he laughed, pushing the cart forward, nodding his head to the side, “They’re in the next aisle over,”

You stop walking, and after a second, Bradley does too, realizing what he just said. He turns to you and you’re looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes. He thinks he might see a little bit of pride in them, too. And it’s so silly, getting choked up by instinctively remembering where something is in a grocery store he can never remember being in, but he feels a lump in his throat anyway. He coughs, trying to dislodge the emotion. You don’t say a word, maybe sensing the moment that he’s having, but you squeeze his arm when you pass by him on your way to the aisle he indicated. After a moment, he follows behind you.

He thinks he would follow you anywhere.

————

It’s a Friday and he's been home for eight days now. He has a headache when he wakes up that morning, and he can’t remember anything notable from the previous night's dream to write down in his notebook. Part of him wants to go back to sleep and try again, but he pushes himself out of bed anyway.

Like she had been the last few days, Florry is laying at the guest room door when he opens it. She looks up and meows at him, nuzzling into his hand when he squats down to scratch her head for a moment before she gets up and struts away. He snorts at her, amused at how as soon as she gets what she wants, she moves on to something else.

He makes his way downstairs slowly, feeling like a drum is pounded right in his ear with every step. There’s a distinct spice in the air as he walks toward the kitchen, and it takes a few sniffs before he places it.

“Pumpkin?”

To his surprise, you gasp, and the knife you were holding slips from your grasp and clatters to the granite countertop. You jumped back from it, but your wide eyes were looking straight at him.

“What did you just call me?”

“What?”

“You said - you called me Pumpkin.”

This was one of those significant moments that he was missing. Bradley suddenly felt incredibly awkward, and a little ashamed. A flush crept up his neck to warm his cheeks in the worst way.

“I uh - I was talking about the smell.”

Watching your face fall cuts him worse than the knife you had been holding ever could. For a brief moment, he saw raw devastation completely overcome you. He starts to say your name, but you cut him off before he can.

“I’m making pumpkin banana pancakes,” you tell him after a moment. You pick the knife back up to continue cutting up the fruit you had on the cutting board. He wants to ask you what had just happened, but bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself. He’s frustrated that he can’t remember, and the hurt in your eyes was making his head pound harder. He hates that he’s putting you through this.

The two of you eat breakfast together, but it’s quieter than it normally is. The air was awkward, tense, and it seemed that neither one of you really knew what to say.

The day had only gotten worse from there. He was late for his doctor's appointment because the two of you had gotten stuck in traffic, and there was little he hated more in life than being late. His headache had only gotten worse, and he hadn’t been cleared to drive or go back to any sort of desk duty yet. To top it all off, the two of you had run into someone you knew during a near silent lunch and he had to awkwardly push himself through the conversation while pretending he did, too ashamed to actually say he had no idea who he was.

By the time you returned back home, he was in a sour mood, and he really wanted to go back to bed.

“Do you need anything?” you asked softly, hovering between the kitchen and living room as he settled himself on the couch unceremoniously.

“No,” he said shortly, pulling a blanket over him.

You sigh, and he’s irritated with himself for making you feel bad, too.

“I’m going to go up to my office for a bit then, okay?” he doesn’t respond. When you sigh, he’s irritated with himself even more for making you feel bad, too. “You can come up and get me if you need anything.”

Bradley tries to nap the afternoon away, but it’s more fitful than restful. He tosses and turns on the couch. Florry jumps on him at one point, waking him from one of his dozes.

He closes his eyes, trying again to find some sort of sleep, but nothing comes for him. His mind was moving a little too quickly now, and the guilt was setting in. He had been short with you almost all day, and even if he was frustrated, you didn’t deserve that. You were frustrated too, even if you wouldn’t say it.

Sometimes he wishes you would.

Why the hell did this happen to him after everything else in his life?

His dad, and then his mom, and Mav pulling his papers. He still hasn’t brought himself to reach out to the man he had apparently reconciled with, but you’ve mentioned how he’s asked after him whenever the two of you speak, as had the rest of the crew. It’s frustrating, suddenly having all these people in his life who he views as family, only to have no recollection of who they are. Seeing himself in all of these pictures that are throughout the house constantly boggles his mind. He hates being so confused all the time.

He hates that he can’t remember you, and that you spend all of your days trying to be strong for him.

He groans, running a hand roughly over his face. After another 45 minutes of staring at the ceiling fan spin, he throws the blanket off of his legs and forces himself up. He couldn’t do much, but he could at least apologize.

He drags himself up the stairs slowly, trying to figure out exactly what to say. The door to your office is pulled closed for the first time since he’s come home; he tries not to read into that as you wanting him to stay away. He goes to take a step closer and knock, but your voice through the door stops him.

“The timing is awful, Jake.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. The only Jake he knew was Hangman, and he hasn’t wrapped his mind completely around the fact that he was apparently one of his best friends now.

“Bringing a baby into this would make everything so much more complicated. He’s struggling enough as it is. You think suddenly becoming a father would make this all better? The test being negative is for the best.”

He sucks in a breath, feeling like he just got suckerpunched right in the stomach. He braces himself against the hallway wall with one hand, unsure if he heard you correctly.

“I’m okay,” you say, and he wishes he could hear both sides of the conversation. He feels like he’s going to pass out. “I promise.”

There’s another pause, and you let out a small laugh, “I might take you up on that, J.”

Bradley backs away from the door, his mind going a thousand miles a minute as he tries to process what just happened.

A baby? You were talking about having a baby. You had mentioned a test. Had you taken it recently? Since he had been home? Why hadn’t you told him, if you had? Was this something that had happened before his accident and just another thing that he forgot?

He’s your husband. He may not remember it, but he was. Didn’t he have a right to know?

He stews for a while, and that’s his biggest mistake. He’s scared, and bizarrely disappointed, he’s hurt, but most of all he’s angry. He’s angry that you’re talking to other people about something so personal, but not him. And Hangman, of all people. It festers inside of him, and by the time you come back downstairs, he’s sizzling in it.

“How does chicken and asparagus sound for dinner?” You’re smiling as you walk into the room, but it drops when you see the look in his face. “Are you alright?”

“You thought you were pregnant?”

The color drains from your face, and he knows he has his answer. He stands up from the couch to face you, his thoughts jumbled together, fighting for dominance in his head. You had thought you were pregnant. And you didn’t tell him.

“How did you know that?”

“I overheard you on the phone with Hangman,” he practically spits the name, feeling his anger swell even more. “When did you take it?”

“Bradley-”

“When did you take the test?”

You let out a long, shaky breath. You’re twisting your ring around your finger again, and your eyes are starting to glass up, but he forces himself not to focus on any of that. “Yesterday,” you admit softly, “I took it yesterday.”

He groans, running a hand through his hair. You both had been in this house almost all day yesterday. He had been right here. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? I could have been there with you!”

“Bradley-”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me that we’d been trying to have kids before I got hurt?”

“Bradley, I really don’t think we should talk about this right now,” you said, trying to remain as calm as possible, but he was already way past that point.

“Well I want to talk about it,” he snaps, “Why would you keep this from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you!” you say, your voice rising to meet his. “We aren’t trying for a baby, Bradley. It was a scare. That’s all.”

“But you still took a test! And you didn’t tell me!”

“There was nothing to tell,” you try, but Bradley shakes his head as his anger reaches a boiling point.

“Not to me, apparently. You told fucking Hangman about it, but not me? Aren’t I the one who is supposed to be your husband?”

“Yeah, Bradley. You are,” you finally snap, your voice raising for the first time, “But how the hell was I supposed to tell you when you don’t even remember who I am?”

It was a low blow, but Bradley has never been one to back down.

“I’m trying!” he yells, and you startle back at just how loud he is, “I’m trying every single day. You think I don’t want to remember you? Someone I apparently almost had a kid with? Someone who I want to care for and protect even though I have no idea why? I know this sucks for you, but think about what I’m going through here.”

“You think I’m not thinking about you?” you demand, shaking your head, “You’re all I’ve been thinking about, Bradley!”

“Am I?,” he asks, and your mouth drops at the words, but he keeps going anyway even though every instinct in him is screaming at him to shut up. “I trust you without being able to remember you, but it’s hard to do that if you keep things from me. I have no idea what the fuck is going on the majority of the time and you’re the only one I have who will tell me things. Or don’t you want me to remember?”

The words came out harsher than he anticipated. The look on your face made him wish that he could take them back. His anger dissipated as he saw the tears that had been welling up in your eyes finally fall.

Your name left his lips, but you cut him off before an apology could follow behind.

“Of course I do,” you choked out, a sob catching in your throat. It looks like there’s more you want to say, but after a moment, you just shake your head, your breathing labored. “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

Those weren’t the words he expected. Alarm bells are ringing loudly in his head, demanding he fix what he’s done here.

“What?”

“I need some air,” you explain, your voice cracking. His heart ached watching you gather your phone and keys.

He speaks your name again, pleading and reaching out for you as you step toward the front door. To his surprise, you ripped your arm out of his grasp. “You don’t call me that,” you snapped. Bradley’s eyes widened. He watches as you take a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“I’ll be back in a little bit,” you promise. You don’t look at him as you grab a pair of shoes from the closet by the front door, slipping them on. You don’t slam the door when you leave, but the sound of it closing still echoes like gunfire to him.

He sinks back onto the couch, his aching head in his hands, wondering what the hell he had just done.

————

An hour has passed and you still weren’t back yet. Bradley has taken to pacing back and forth through the living room, peeking out of the curtains by the front door. He shouldn’t have let you leave when you were that upset. He shouldn’t have made you that upset to begin with. He was out of line.

When he really thinks about it with a clearer mind, he understands to an extent why you didn’t tell him about taking the test. He was virtually a stranger to you right now. There would have been little point to filling him in right now when it would have just panicked and confused him. He knows, deep down, that if the test would have been positive that you would have told him. But he had been so scared at that moment, overhearing you on the phone like that. And if he really admitted it to himself, he was jealous, too. He wanted to be the one you confided in for all of those things, big or small, certainty or uncertainty. But he had done nothing to really earn that.

It wasn’t fair that he accused you of not thinking about him, either. It was so clear in everything that the two of you did that you were taking him into consideration. You had stayed with him every single day in the hospital. You had taken an impromptu leave of absence from work and drove him to all of his appointments. You cooked all of his meals for him and made sure he took his medicine on time and were readily available if he needed anything. You did everything you could to make him as comfortable as he could possibly be in this impossibly uncomfortable situation. You had sacrificed everything for him, and he was a jerk to you in response.

He really, really wants you to come home soon.

He had gotten his phone back, but he hadn’t brought himself around to touching it yet, knowing it would be full of a whole life that he wasn’t ready to face yet. Would you even answer if he called at this point?

Maybe he could go look for you instead.

Right when he’s about to grab his shoes, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He heaves a sigh of relief when he sees you climbing the steps to the back porch through the window in the kitchen.

You must have come through the back gate instead. He doesn’t even care if it was because you wanted to avoid running into him immediately, so long as you were safe.

You don’t unlock the door or move to enter the house. Instead, he watches as you settle into one of the plush chairs you have out there below the window that faces into the yard. Your back is to him now, but he’s breathing easier that you’re in his line of sight; you’re okay.

He lets you be, for a little while. But after another 20 minutes had passed and the sun started setting without you coming inside, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was vibrating with the need to be near you again, to talk to you and apologize. He didn’t like being on the outs with you like this, and he knew it was mostly his fault.

Your knees are tucked into your chest and your head leant back, but he could see that your eyes were open. They turned to him when he cracked open the door.

“Hey,” he said simply.

“Hey.” Your voice is still thick with the tears you had cried earlier. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing he was the one who caused it.

“Do you mind if I join you out here?”

“Sure.”

He steps out onto the porch, sliding the door shut behind him. You look back out into the orange covering your background as he sinks into the chair next to you.

“How uh..how was your walk?”

“It was fine,” you respond, hugging your knees a little bit closer. You go to push a piece of hair behind your ear and your ring glints in the setting sun.

“I was worried about you,” he whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear him. But you do, turning your head to look at him. For the first time, he can’t quite read the look on your face. He takes a shaky breath, rubbing his palms on his thighs as he tries to figure out his words. “I’m sorry,” he finally says.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have kept something that big from you.”

He shakes his head, because blaming yourself is the last thing he wants for you. “You were looking out for me,” he says, “I understand that now. You…you would have told me, if the results were different. I know that.”

You nod, not saying anything, and Bradley sighs out your name again. “It wasn’t fair for me to snap at you like that. To yell at you like that. I-I’m so sorry.”

“You’re going through a lot right now.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “but so are you. All of this, me being hurt and not….” he cuts himself off, but by the way you close your eyes and let a tear slip down your cheek, you knew exactly what he was going to say.

Not remembering us.

“I’ll never be mad at you for being injured, baby,” you say quietly. The term of endearment takes him by surprise. You were always careful with calling him by his name in an unnecessary effort to make him more comfortable; part of him wondered if you were trying to curb his own guilt.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says back. He desperately wants you to know that. You take a shuddering breath at the words.

“This isn’t your fault,” you say it like it’s an oath, so much so that he almost believes you. But it was hard to do that when there were tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Having you here is harder than I thought it would be,” you admitted so quietly that Bradley could barely hear you. “It’s like a part of me is missing, even though you’re right here in front of me. And I know it’s hard for you to not remember anything, and I’m being selfish-“

“You aren’t being selfish.”

You chuckle humorlessly, wiping away at your tears.

“I’m serious,” he says, and his fingers itch to reach for you. “I think you may be the most selfless person I’ve ever met. You’ve done nothing but take care of me the last two weeks, even when I was in the hospital.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” you promise, “You’re the most important person in the world to me, Bradley.”

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that at first, overcome with the emotions that it caused. He thinks that he would do anything for you, too.

“I want to remember you,” he finds himself saying, and your eyes shoot to him again, startled at the words. He nods. “I’m not-I’m not good at saying how I feel. But I’ve never, ever felt like I do when I’m with you. You give me butterflies. And I have this instinctual urge to protect you and make you happy. Being around you has been the best part of everyday, even if I’m so confused the whole time.”

You sniffle as more tears fall.

“You say all those things about me,” he continues, “and how you’ll always take care of me. And I know I would do the same for you. Even now.”

He lets out a shaky breath, ”It’s like I know who you are right here,” he taps his hand against his chest over his heart, and you let out a small sob. He raises his hand to tap his fingers against his forehead, too. “But I think I need your help to remember you here, okay?”

“I can do that,” you hiccup, nodding rapidly. “We can do it together.”

“That sounds nice.” It really, really does. He returns your soft, watery smile, and he revels in how your eyes shine in the moonlight that had appeared, looking at him like he really was something special to you.

“Can I -” you stop, clearing your throat and shaking your head as if you’re trying to talk yourself out of something.

“What?” he encourages.

“Nothing.”

“No,” he insists, “please. Tell me.”

“Can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in his answer; he wants to do whatever he could for you.

Your breathing is shaky, and your voice is as small as he had heard it since he’d opened his eyes and had no idea who you were to him. Your eyes are bright with tears and dull with heartache all at the same time, but you’re still so heartbreakingly beautiful to him.

“You tell me everyday. Multiple times most days, and even when you’re deployed, I don’t think you’ve gone this long without saying it somehow. I’ve been wanting to hear it so bad since I got the call you were hurt, because I knew it would mean that you’re okay, and I know you aren’t okay, but you’re here and that’s all that really matters and I-”

He whispers your name to stop your rambling, worried about how tightly you were wringing your hands together and how quickly your breaths were coming. “What is it?”

“Can you just…tell me you love me? Please?”

Tears spring to his eyes this time, hating himself for putting you in this situation where you ever, ever had to ask him for something like this. The him from three weeks ago would hate the him sitting here right now. Hell, current him hates himself a little bit. He pushes that hatred aside, though, because this is something he can do. You’re going through misery because of him and this is the first request you had of him.

He doesn’t stop himself this time from reaching out for you. He drops to his knees in front of the chair you were curled up in, cupping your face in his hands. You gasp softly through your tears, reaching up and gripping his wrists in your own hands. He likes to think it was because you wanted to hold him there against you. Even with your tears splashing against his skin, it feels so right, touching you like this.

You were breathing the same air as one another. He wipes a tear away when it hit his skin. He waits until your glassy eyes lock with his own to whisper the words: “I love you.”

And he knows, in the deepest depths of his soul, even after so little time passing since being reintroduced to you, that it’s true. He feels a peace settle over him that hadn’t been there before; a missing piece slotting into place, even if the puzzle is nowhere near complete. Saying it feels so, so right, and he can’t help but close the distance between the two of you. It’s a gentle touch, but your lips are so soft against his that he leans into it.

There's electricity burning under his skin.

Something flickers in his mind, like a light struggling to turn on. A burnt orange dress and a Cinderella reference, cobblestone streets and a latte that tastes better on your lips than in the cup. There’s a word right there, and he struggles for a moment to grasp onto it. But when he does, it’s like he’s seeing in color after being in a black and white movie.

“Pumpkin,” he breathes against your lips, “I call you Pumpkin.”

You sob, then, nodding your head. You’re so close that he can feel your nose brushing against his. You kiss him again, the salt of your tears mixing with his. Your hands move from where they had been grasping his wrists to wrap around his body and you let yourself fall into him, slipping from the chair to meet him on the ground.

When you pull away from his kiss, you bury your face in his neck, still crying softly. He holds you against him tightly.

“I’m right here,” he says into your hair like a promise, pressing his lips wherever he can reach, “we’ll remember everything together.”

----

Part Six :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: I hope you liked this one! Would love to hear any thoughts you may have :)

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Can Anybody See Me? Part 2

Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1

The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.

Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.

His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.

Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.

It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.

He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.

How was he going to do this?

And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.

But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?

Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.

Odd 1-History 3- Math 5- Chemistry lunch 7- Baseball

Even 2-Swimming 4-English 6-Art lunch 8-Basketball

Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.

Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.

Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.

The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.

At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.

“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.

Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”

Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”

Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”

“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.

Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”

“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”

“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.

“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”

“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”

Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”

Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”

Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

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