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jester-lover · 7 months

Note

I’m sorry if this is a bother or if your requests aren’t open, feel free to ignore this!

I totally loved the Cinderella one shot you did with the first years, could you do one with the same concept but with the dorm heads? (Or if not all of them, Malleus, Azul and Leona) thank you! 💙

Magic Moment

W/ the Dorm Leaders! + PLATONIC! Trein (I had to for this ask, the same as the last one) FIRST YEARS VERS.

this was literally one of my favorite works I've ever done, thank you for this.

CW/ Fem! Reader, fluff, shyness, nervousness, MR. TREIN BEING A BETTER ADOPTIVE FATHER THAN CROWLEY, I tried to leave the dress details vague, but the general ballgown shape is mentioned, late night walks>>>

As you took a couple of deep breaths and frantically straightened the shining expense of your lush, glimmering ball gown, the echo of music in the ballroom hummed gently. The silken gloves felt lovely against the smooth skin of your freshly manicured fingers. For once in your turbulent school life, you allowed yourself to feel beautiful.

You could hear the happy gnawing sounds made by Grim, who was enjoying a comically large turkey leg. Such a sight would have usually made you laugh if you weren't solely focused on your pounding heartbeat and nauseating nervousness. The sounds of the ballroom music were still picking up as the events of the night were only about to begin.

You felt a warm, fatherly presence by your side, and you turned to see Professor Trein in formal navy-colored robes. His lips curled into a comforting smile as a look of sweet nostalgia filled his eyes.

“I believe the event is about to start; you have absolutely nothing to fear…”

His words trailed off as the other professors called him to join them in the waiting room. The words caught in your throat, but you managed to give him a quick response.

“Thank you, professor!”

Holding your head up a little higher, you gripped onto the delicate fabric of your dress, and a smile enchanted your features as you walked forward towards the grand hall. As you opened up the door and stepped onto the wide golden staircase, you realized that all eyes were on you.

Your dress flowed downward gracefully, as if you were a bird, walking slowly down the steps so as to not ruin your pair of strangely comfortable glass heels.

The beautiful hall was ornately decorated, the sweet-smelling dessert tables were framed with rose petals, and fresh lilies wrapped themselves around the pillars holding up the stained glass ceiling. The elegantly dressed young men in the room seemed to pause in unison as you took small, unsure steps down to the base of the staircase.

With that many eyes on you, peering into your very soul and seeping into any small bit of exposed flesh, the nervousness in your bones returned tenfold.

However, when you saw him standing there, everything was truly magical once again.

Riddle

A sound close to a sigh leaves Riddle’s lips as he takes in the sight of you.

Rushing into the crowd of clamoring boys, he quickly gets to your side and composes himself.

“How indignant, crowding around a young lady as if she doesn’t need personal space! I will have all of your heads for such an offense!”

And he will most likely collar a couple people, but after the ball, after he dances with you, of course!

Despite being taught (rather vigorously) to dance formally, he’s very shy about being so close to you, and in such a public environment too!

Riddle tries his best to give you a nice moment; he knows how stressed out you are on a daily basis, and the experience is beautiful for the both of you.

He wears a burgundy suit with frilly sleeves and an almost delicate collar, complemented by a black tie.

The two of you dance for a brief half hour before leaving for the quietness of the front entrance steps.

The low lighting and gentle nighttime breeze calm Riddle down enough to start a light conversation.

….which proceeds to last the two of you until midnight.

Riddle will walk you home afterwards, like a true gentleman should.

Perhaps a little more red-faced than he intended to be.

“Tonight was so wonderful…maybe we could do something like this again..?”

Leona

A smile forms on Leona’s face the moment he sees you, parting confidently through the crowds of rambunctious teenage boys, he takes your hand gently in his own before pressing a kiss against your gloved wrist.

“Herbivore… I think you owe me a dance for all those times you ruined my sleep…”

Leona’s movements as he pulls you into a dance are sharp and precise, he wants to impress you with his abilities and show you how much better he is than any other suitor who may dare to pursue you.

His head rests on top of yours, taking in the delicate scent of your perfume as he sways you side to side.

As the music continues, he sees you grow a bit tired and steps aside with you, away from the crowd and closer to the windows.

The two of you banter onwards about your personal lives, mostly him telling lighthearted stories about his nephew.

The time slips away so soon, and your gentle mixed laughter soon fills an empty hall, prompting a quick exit.

He walks you home with your arms linked and his blazer over your shoulders, protecting you from the cold nighttime air.

As soon as you reach the steps of Ramshackle, he seems almost hesitant to let you go, the year of joy and tenderness he got with you comes flooding back to him.

“I know I don't usually get all sappy…but I can really see myself building a life with you…”

He kisses you on your forehead and only lets go of your hand as you walk through your front door.

Azul

A sharp gasp escapes from Azul as he speeds towards you, almost tripping against the air as he pushes against the other young men in the room, whispering small apologies to anyone he practically runs over.

Azul blushes when he sees you, but musters up enough courage to take your hand in his.

“In return for your help at the Lounge, I wish to offer you a dance!”

(Let him have this, please; he can’t talk to women.)

His moves while slow dancing are a bit stiff, but the calm atmosphere loosens him up enough to look decent and presentable.

This boy has horrible endurance, and the two of you stop dancing pretty quickly.

Azul steadily moves into the crowd of young men with you on his arm, a pep in his step like never before.

He’s an opportunistic businessman, so this ball of sorts constitutes the perfect networking opportunity for him.

The two of you small talk with a lot of people, spurring rumors about your closeness.

Fairly soon after the event, he decides to walk you back to Ramshackle, where he kisses your hand and bids you goodnight.

“If you have any free time, perhaps we can do something like this again..?”

Kalim

Kalim smiles brightly and rushes forward to you, the crowd parting ways for him, a beaming ray of sunlight basically leaping towards you.

His hands brush against yours as he presses a charming kiss to your gloved fingers, leading you toward the center of the practically vacant dancefloor as the music slows.

“I’ve had dreams about a moment like this!”

Kalim’s style of dancing is more fast-paced and lighthearted, spinning you around and dipping you haphazardly.

Making you laugh is his first priority, and he achieves it pretty quickly.

After dancing, he invites you to eat something alongside him—something quick and sweet, like cake or ice cream.

The two of you talk about your homelands, which mostly consists of him telling you about all the sights you’ll see when he takes you to his.

Kalim won’t realize it's late until you let him know.

Then he’ll walk you home, joking about how carried away the two of you got.

Right before you enter Ramshackle, he’ll press a kiss on your cheek and practically beam if you reciprocate it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe we could get lunch together!”

Vil

The sheer confidence Vil exhibits as he walks towards you is the polar opposite of the general uneasiness he feels inside.

I mean, usually he wouldn't care about the rest of those potatoes, but as he walked down rows of well-dressed boys, it seemed like everyone had ramped up their looks for the night.

Suddenly, he wasn't the brightest star in the sky.

However, when he got to your side and saw the look of awe in your eyes, everything fell into place for him again.

“You look enchanting, I’m glad you’ve been taking my fashion advice seriously.”

Vil dances almost like a bird, moving as if the music is chasing after him.

He’s tough to keep up with on the dance floor; he’s just so speedy, but he holds on to you quite tightly.

Being so close to Vil, he presses his head close to your neck and holds your waist sweetly. His slender hands are firm, guiding you.

You can probably see Rook in your peripheral vision, snapping photos (and maybe tearing up in sheer joy).

Because of his celebrity status, the two of you can’t exactly leave without a massive paparazzi presence.

So you decide to sneak out of a back door, something he considers improper but necessary.

The walk home is quiet but comfortable, and Vil’s hand is intertwined with yours.

When you reach the broken gate to Ramshackle House, he presses a kiss on your temple, leaving a pinkish stain.

“Remember to take off that makeup before bed, Potato. I’ll see you for breakfast this morning.”

Idia

Idia would rather be anywhere but here, but maybe that grand entrance cutscene wasn’t all that bad…

Unlike the other boys, Idia would not go after you first.

Instead, he would go find a place where no one would pester him.

Maybe after dancing quite formally and inflexibly with a boring cast of young men, you get quite socially tired and wander off, looking for a place to be alone for a bit.

That is how you find Idia, sitting on the floor in the empty kitchen section of the venue.

“H-hey! You of all people—you weren’t supposed to find me..”

Tiredly sitting down next to him, your big poofy dress impairing you from comfortably slouching.

You looked like a sad bear, just tired and done.

His face is burning so hard, it's crazy that the fire alarms have not gone off yet.

Idia raises a shaking hand to pat your back gently, placing his tablet on your lap.

“Wanna see the 3D model for my new desk…? I-I don’t know… you seem kinda bored.”

Cue the massive tangent he goes on about how horrible the dance is and how tiresome social interaction is with IRL people.

After some point, you start laughing at how ridiculously exasperated he sounds.

You two sneak out of the back door of the venue soon before the event is over.

Idia walks you home reluctantly, before realizing how cliche such a moment is and lowkey squealing a little into his hands.

He stays outside the doors of Ramshackle but waves you goodbye quickly.

You take the chance and kiss his cheek, prompting him to walk away from you, saying bye again in a slightly lower tone before turning his heel and walking away.

Malleus

It's safe to assume he’s waited for this moment since he’s met you.

Malleus steps towards you, any other person within his eyesight stepping out of it in fear or confusion.

He takes your hands in his and gives you a sweet smile, his towering form almost obscuring you from the peering eyes of the room.

“Might I be selfish this once and have your first dance?”

As the two of you dance, his guiding hand completely envelops yours, his eyes catching any missed steps and correcting you with a nudge in the right direction.

Circling around the marbled flooring, he holds you by your back and dips you by your waist.

It’s a scene straight out of a period piece.

The dimmed lights and moving crowd alert Malleus that the other festivities are starting, but he doesn’t want to waste a second out of your sight.

“Come along, Child of Man, we barely get a moment to ourselves these days…”

Your arm links around his as the two of you leave from the front entrance, evading the eyes of his retainers and sneaking off down the street.

Malleus listens to you ramble on about whatever fuels your curiosity.

Being in a new world must be difficult, and he finds your questions amusing.

When you reach the front door of Ramshackle, his hands find yours, and he pauses for a brief moment, like he’s debating something in his head.

Leaning downward, Malleus’s hair falls against his shoulders as you look up at him. Your lips connect for a brief moment before you walk back into your dorm.

He stands there for a moment, watching you walk in with a sweet smile on his face as he hears the voice of a familiar green-haired retainer yelling out for him.

The cool night air that filters through the cracked windows of Ramshackle House serves to calm you down after a long night of dancing and socializing. You lay on the dusty couch, still clad in your oversized ball gown, sparkling in the dim candlelight.

Grim was asleep beside you, his warm, fluffy fur pressed against your arm, and his gentle purring made your painted eyelids flutter with tiredness.

You thought back to the unforgettable night; spending time with him was a memory to cherish forever.

As you shook your arm to try and remove Grim, you realized he wouldn't budge, succumbing to your fate. You smiled and closed your eyes.

A wonderful ending to a wonderful night.

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littlemissthunderstorms · 8 months

Text

just some lover

alex turner x reader

angst!

concept- photographing ex boyfriend alex’s show (i’ve convinced myself this is the worst thing i’ve ever written. just so you know i have self awareness.)

———

the crowd roared and cheered as the boys walked on and grabbed their instruments, getting ready for the first song. stage lights glittered and shimmered all across the set, the stage basked in a medley of purples and blues. you stood on the opposite side of the backstage area with your camera, a few other people around you.

your eyes followed the boy as he adjusted the mic. your heart dropped a bit when you saw him, the ache growing as he started to sing. you hadn’t heard his voice in a while, the sick nostalgia of it all making you start to regret your choice.

when you took the job offer you were hesitant, knowing arctic monkeys were in the lineup, but it paid good, so you took it. all you had to do was get good shots of the band, it shouldn’t be that hard, right?

this was the first time you’d seen alex since you two had broken up 4 months ago. sickly sweet longing melted and twisted at your heart, causing your hands to slick with a cold sweat as you held your camera.

memories of him singing to you softly when you were sick, or whenever you’d had a rough night started seeping through the cracks of your mind, memories that you’d hoped to forget starting to re-enter like a film reel. you cleared your throat, raising your camera and taking a few cool shots of the band, trying your very best to distract yourself. you were here for work, to simply take photos of the concert and that was it. nothing else. so stay focused.

for the most part you were pretty good at not allowing yourself to think, but you couldn’t ignore the way nausea twisted at your stomach. you didn’t realize how sentimental this would all feel. in different circumstances you would be backstage for different reasons. not just the photographer. in different circumstances you’d be teasing him about his sweaty hugs when the show was over, staining his cheek in your black honey lipstick. in reality, he didn’t even know you were here.

surely he’d moved on, probably had plans with some other girl after the show. your heart sunk at the thought, realizing you weren’t apart of his life anymore, and how quickly it happened. it just felt off being here like this, like an actor walking onto the wrong set. you caught yourself thinking too much again, bottling up the nauseating thoughts the best you possibly could.

your co workers next to you soon struck up a conversation with you, laughing and pointing at people in the crowd with funny signs. you were deeply grateful for the distraction.

throughout the show, you were mostly focused on getting good shots and conversing with your photographer friends. you assumed the nostalgia and heartbreak you’d endured moments prior was just the usual sinking feeling of seeing your ex for the first time since breaking up and that the immense feelings had simmered down. so, you didn’t think about it for a while, pretending alex was just some rockstar you never even knew.

———

the sun was fully set now, yet it was still sweltering. you were now in your tanktop, sipping cool water and holding it up to your forehead and cheeks. you noticed everyone in the band was now drenched in sweat, their cheeks flushed in the stage lighting.

a crew member came up to you, asking you and another photographer if you could get some shots from right in front of the stage, meaning you would have to go right in front of the pit barrier. meaning there was a high chance alex would see you. nevertheless, you agreed, you weren’t going to let this interfere with your work.

once you were down there, your initial worries of him seeing you simmered a bit. alex’s eyes were shut for the most part, opening only for mere seconds just to close again, getting lost in the melody. and probably a bit of heat exhaustion. you hid your face behind your camera, snapping a shot of jamie on his guitar.

the atmosphere was buzzing in the pit, people were climbing on other peoples shoulders, holding up signs, and dancing together. it was adorable, it helped to take the edge off a bit. yet you couldn’t quite get rid of the sinking feeling that kept lingering.

———

everything was going fairly okay until the intro chords of a certain, very familiar song started to reverberate through the venue. she’s thunderstorms. your heart dropped. you cleared your throat and put a vice grip on your camera.

alex had written this song for you about 11 months prior. you remembered him playing it to you for the first time on his acoustic, the way he shyly mumbled “s’ not done yet, but it’s about you.” you remembered how he fell back onto the couch as you kissed him, telling him it was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you.

you remembered when it came out, how alex had teasingly called you ‘thunderstorms’ a month after. your lip quivered, heart shaky as you held back tears. you took a deep breath, trying to redirect your thoughts as you took a few more shots of the band.

“she’s thunderstorms, lying on her front, up against the wall.”

the tune twisted at your stomach, your shaky hands making most of your shots come out unfocused and blurry. you tried to convince yourself you were just being dramatic to soothe your feelings, it didn’t work much.

as your teary gaze flickered to alex, you couldn’t help but notice the way his face contorted into sadness. what seemed like a tear, that could easily be perceived as a drop of sweat trickled down his cheek. was he really crying? he couldn’t be. but you knew him well. you noticed how he quickly concealed his emotions, running a hand through his damp hair.

your heart sunk. you’d thought all along that alex had moved on quickly. was he actually crying? if he was, it must’ve been a hell of a coincidence that it was during this song. you knew alex had moved on quickly when breaking up with girls in the past. you thought he would have the same habits with you. you were usually the same, sad for a bit but then moving on in a couple of weeks, wondering why you were ever sad in the first place.

but not with alex. when you broke up with him, you were a mess. it was a hard decision, and it was mutual but it tore you apart. four months later and you still couldn’t get rid of the pit of regret that sat in your stomach when you woke up in the morning and he wasn’t there. it didn’t feel right this time.

you two had broken up because your schedules weren’t working. you barely saw him, for he was traveling with the band and writing for the new album. you’d been busy yourself with the new photography program that had you doing a lot of traveling aswell.

you both decided it was for the better, fearing your relationship would fall apart and end on bad terms due to long distance if you hadn’t ended it then. but still, it didn’t feel right. you wondered if he felt that same pit in his stomach. a tiny part of you really hoped he did.

however, a few weeks ago, one of the team managers for the arctic monkeys reached out to you and asked if you wanted to be one of the designated photographers for the band. this meant you would follow them around on all of their tours, basically meaning you would constantly be around alex. the pay was a lot better than your current salary.

she told you that you had a couple of months to make the decision. you constantly debated with it, earning sleepless nights out of the situation. it’s not like you could just call up alex and be like “hey so the initial cause of our breakup has been solved and i’ve actually been asked if i wanted to follow you guys on tour so haha when do you want to get back together.”

it wasn’t that surface leveled. you couldn’t just decide to get back with him just because you would actually be around him all the time. you’d assumed alex had moved on already, not wanting to go backwards.

but deep down, you still held immense amounts of love for him in your heart.

you’d truly felt like he was the one, your soulmate. you couldn’t even believe that you two weren’t together anymore. over the past months you wished and wished your paths would cross again. this couldn’t be it for you and alex, right?

the feeling simmered over you. you felt like you could control the situation and finally get rid of the immense regret you faced every day. a glimmer of hope sat within you ever since you’d gotten the offer. yet a part of you assumed you were just being irrational and that he wasn’t in love with you anymore, it was over for the better.

“you alright?” the photographer next to you questioned, sensing your nervousness. “yeah! i’m good, just a little hot out.” you managed a convincing chuckle. it seemed to work, the other photographer agreed and went back to adjusting their lens.

hurt tore through your heart again. you had to learn to come to terms with reality, you couldn’t keep pretending he was going to come crawling back to you. it was time to suck it up.

“here is your host, sounds as if she’s pretty close.”

just as you thought you were in the clear, hidden enough behind your camera, you looked up and made direct eye contact with alex. shit. the boy stared at you for a long moment, almost as if he was trying to convince himself you were really there. you blinked back at him, in a momentary trance, like a scene from a movie where everything slows down. you nervously broke the eye contact, gulping hard as you pretended to adjust your camera.

when you looked back up, he had his eyes shut again, singing just like before. you couldn’t really read his expression. he looked as if he was in pain but it could be read off as overheating.

once the song was over, the ache in your heart lifted a bit. you took a deep breath, a bit overwhelmed by all the emotions that muddled your mind.

you’ll be alright.

———

it was now somewhere around midnight. the show had ended about 30 minutes ago and you were now helping load photography equipment into one of the vans.

after carrying a particularly heavy bag, you slumped against the streetlamp, observing the void-like quality the sky held. it was an inky black, no stars were out tonight.

you were about to head in to ask your co worker if they needed anymore help when a hand gripped your shoulder. you jumped, a goofy smile and brown curly hair greeting you as you turned around.

“nick!” you slapped his chest playfully. “you scared the shit out of me!” the boy chuckled, pulling you into a hug. “i missed you terribly.”

you hadn’t seen any of the boys since you and alex’s breakup and you missed them like hell. you continued to chat with nick, exchanging greetings and catching up.

as nick talked to you, he noticed something different about you. it was difficult to notice, but he knew you well and could sense the lingering sadness that resonated within you.

“so, how’s the photography program?” you shrugged at the question. “honestly, not well. it’s super stressful and not at all what i’d thought it would be like.”

“i’m sorry, that sucks. i know you sacrificed a lot for that job.” nick looked at you, knowing you both possessed the understanding that alex had been the sacrifice. the love of your life, gone for some shitty program.

you nodded, clearing your throat. screw it, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him. “i actually um, i got an offer to shoot for you guys on the suck it and see tour, i don’t know if you knew or anything. i’ve got a while to make my choice. the pays a lot better but i’m just unsure because of… you know.” you shrugged, looking back up at nick, who had a wild grin on his face.

you furrowed your eyebrows. “what?” he shook his head, still grinning. “nick, seriously what is it.” you were starting to get annoyed. he knew something you didn’t. the boy looked up at the dark sky, and then around you both, contemplating if he should tell you or not.

“alex was the one who recommended you.”

STAY TUNED FOR PT.2!!

———

hellooo!! i hope you enjoyed, i’ve convinced myself this is the most boring thing i’ve ever written soooo i’m sorry if it was 🤕

sweet dreams! ⭐️

taglist- @ultragirrl @inmyownfantasywrld @almluv @raven-ql @ohladymoon @yourstartreatment @missbabyjay @andulina567 @blair-s-world @rentsturner

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #arctic monkeys #humbug #alex turner fluff #alex turner one shot #suck it and see #tlsp #alex turner smut

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ortizselene · 3 months

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The granola she had forced down felt uncomfortable in her stomach— hard and nauseating, as if she'd swallowed little pebbles instead of the fortifying breakfast they usually were. Ugh. She shouldn't have had anything. Not today. Not when she was seeing Kieran again.

Selene lingers in the hallway, face hot, arms hot, hands cold, dread and longing mixing impossibly inside the cavity of her chest, head swiveling at every footstep she heard, starched shirts and black Jimmy Choo's slipping in and out of offices. Somewhere in there was Kieran.

Somewhere in there was the person she held closest to her heart. Not for the first time, Selene curses her father for having to meet in these circumstances. And not for the last time, Selene curses herself for being complicit in the betrayal of her own heart. And maybe her best friend too.

But years had passed since college— it was possible that Kieran simply didn't care. Maybe to him, she just represented the faded imprint of nostalgia. Textbooks wet with the circle of a beer can. A tight embrace before finals week. Maybe it didn't matter to Kieran she was engaged to his brother, and training her would simply be a chore rather than the marathon of pain it felt like to Selene. Maybe he barely thought of her at all these days. After all. Wasn't he essentially running a Fortune 500?

Selene tucks her fingers her fingers into her chignon for an unnecessary adjustment— it looked fine, it always looked fine when she was so careful about the imagine she cultivated. Her father made sure of that. What no amount of adjusting could fix was her heart, which sat in her chest flayed and raw and aching.

#IM SO FUCKING EFSDFDSF EMOOOOOO ;-; im already fully dead like SDFSDFSF THE WAY THEY ARE FINALLY seeing each other again but like THIS???SDF #char: kieran #para1

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pochapal · 1 year

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who in umineko would read/know what homestuck is? I’ll bypass the low hanging fruit that is maria and say george is a hidden homestuck stan

george knows what homestuck is but he's one of those "the story was only good from acts 1 to 4, the epilogues killed the series" guys. i don't necessarily think anyone in umineko has read homestuck but i think someone should introduce kanon to homestuck i think it would do something demented to his brain (positive).

#nauseating-nostalgia #dave strider and june egbert would give kanon an identity crisis in two simultaneous contradictory ways #i also think he would show shannon jade harley #and shannon would go 'wow i really resonate with this lonely girl who is tormented by the horror of an uncaring universe :)'#and not think deeply on the implications of that one #i also think rokkenjima vriscourse would be funny #mostly because battler as the resident women respecter would be honor bound to defend vriska #even when it's like mid act 5 vriska where only like half a percent of readers are capable of empathy for her #'well if you spin the chessboard around hating vriska is what scratch WANTS you to do so checkmate'#(he has not read homestuck and still has this opinion anyway)

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qveerthe0ry · 6 months

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With Peace on Earth

Summary: A brief tale of your first Christmas Eve in Jackson Word Count: 2,166 Pairing: Joel Miller x GN! Reader Rating: 18 + Explicit (but not super descriptive smut) Warnings: 18+ mdni, established relationship, fluff, post-outbreak/Jackson, oral (m and gn receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, fingering (gn receiving), finger sucking, spit as lube, Joel is handsy, soft!joel, no y/n, no physical description of reader, reader is gender neutral, description of reader having a mother when they were young, reader celebrates Christmas, reader has no age, a tiny bit of sadness, nostalgia, no beta, let me know if I missed anything! Note: I wrote this very quickly to try and alleviate the writer's block because I have about 15 Pedro character WIPs (mostly Joel) and have yet to complete a single one. I also wrote this to express my feelings about how the holidays haven't really felt very magical for me for a while, but adopting new traditions has helped me find the magic again.

The streetlights are reflecting off of the fresh layer of snow. Despite it being the dead of night, the white ground makes everything just a bit brighter. The air is dry, and it smells like pine and open fires and for a second, when you focus really hard, it’s Christmas Eve, pre-apocalypse.

You can remember it plain as day. You can feel the air like it was yesterday, that palpable excitement as you spread a mixture of oats and glitter and sequins across your childhood front yard.

“So the reindeer know where to land Santa’s sleigh,” your mom had told you.

You can feel the warmth of her hand enveloping your tiny, freezing fingers. The warmth of her voice, of her gaze on you.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, try to remember that happy memories can be just that— and not a cruel taunting of the way things used to be and how different they are now.

You don’t realize how cold you actually are until two warm arms wrap around you, and hot breath creeps down the collar of your long johns.

“Gonna catch your death,” Joel mumbles.

You lean back into him, close your eyes, and take a big, deep breath. You smell the snow and the chimney smoke but also homemade oat soap and lavender laundry wash and it isn’t like it used to be, but maybe that doesn’t have to mean it’s worse.

“Was hoping I’d see Santa fly over,” you say, distracted, watching the stars in the crisp winter sky.

“You think he made it through all these years?”

Joel chuckles as he says it, and wraps his arms a tad tighter around you.

“I like to think so,” you shrug.

His soft laughter turns into a hum, turns into lips pressed under your ear.

“I love the way you are.”

It’s sweet. It’s sticky, nauseating words coming from a man you never thought would be anything but cold and calculated, when you first met. It warms you all the way through, maybe even melts some of the snow that’s blown its way onto the porch you’re standing on.

You want to say it back, want to tell him how much you love the way he is, the way his guarded heart shines through the cracks so bright it blinds you, the way his smiles make you weak so that it’s a good thing he’s so stingy with them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask instead.

He takes a long moment to respond. You can feel his teeth grinding together where his jaw is hooked over your shoulder, and the way his breath is coming in less than slow and steady.

“Just— It’s 20 years into the end of the world and you still have hope.”

You sigh and turn your head, seeking out his stubbled cheek, and press a kiss to the wind burnt skin.

“I found you after all this time, didn’t I?”

He huffs, and it sounds amused. You turn a bit in his hold to look at his eyes and the way his eyebrows gather together in the middle.

“And this is a blessing, not a curse?”

You want to kiss the skeptical look off of his face, so you do, hooking your arms around his neck and capturing his bottom lip between your own.

You feel the warmth of his palms through your shirt as they splay out across your back, fingers digging, working the muscles there like he’s kneading bread. You hum into his mouth and let your fingers tangle in the soft curls at the nape of his neck just as his tongue finds yours.

You can feel him slowly filling out his worn jeans where his hips press into your own and you think, with a chuckle you can’t contain, that this is the only Christmas gift you want from now on.

He pulls away at your soft laughter, his own eyes twinkling with an edge of humor.

“Are you stallin’ or somethin’?”

You shake your head as a smile splits your face from ear to ear.

“Never. Always a blessing, babe,” you tell him.

Your hands drop from his neck quickly to grab two handfuls of his ass and squeeze, and he glares at you as you press him just that much closer to you.

“I’ll give you a blessing,” he grumbles.

His head ducks down so that his lips can find your pulse point, and then his teeth, a playful nip with a hint of something more desperate and charged.

“Better not give the whole neighborhood an eye full,” you warn, half-heartedly. You know most people are asleep, and you know neither you nor Joel would really mind it.

Still, on the off-chance Tommy and Maria are still awake across the street, you don’t need to give the town leader any fuel for retaliation.

His breath comes out in whisps of steam around your face, minty with notes of whiskey.

“Go on ‘n get, then. Warm up by the fire.”

And you know by now not to protest, not when your prize for obeying is so worth being bossed around by the grumpy old man.

You undress by the fire and look around the living room while Joel makes sure the house is locked up.

It’s not quite decorated like an old Christmas movie, but it’s still festive, still as warm and full of cheer as you remember from before.

There’s a Christmas branch, really, a small little bush that Ellie had brought home to you a few weeks before. You had spent the day looking around for scraps of anything red, some ribbon, the sleeve of an old t-shirt, some berries on a bush that you were certain weren’t edible. You both worked on decorating the Charlie Brown-esque tree as Joel watched, grumbling, but plucking away at a rendition of ‘Oh Christmas Tree’ on his guitar as he complained.

There are three big socks hung up on the mantle of the fireplace, Joel’s, who griped about having to give up the precious fabric while he decorated them with you and Ellie at the kitchen table. ‘Decorated’ used lightly, as you only had a few errant pipe cleaners and the guts of a few raspberries as a red/pink dye.

And then there’s the whittled reindeer Joel had presented to you just days ago with a shy look on his face you don’t see very often. The wood is smooth and the antlers are intricate, and even though you can’t see it, you know there’s a little heart carved into the bottom of its back left hoof. It’s your favorite decoration out of all of them, displayed lovingly and proudly on the coffee table.

You grab an old blanket from the back of the couch and lay it in front of the fire just as Joel finds you again. His footsteps are lighter without his heavy boots on, and his fingers don’t feel as warm now as they grab your hips.

“Gonna lay down for me?”

His voice is low and gruff and calm, and all you can do is obey, and lie down naked on the fleece.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him undress. The light of the fire makes all of his golden skin look even more so, dancing an orange glow across his scarred stomach and sparsely haired chest and the contrasting hardness and softness of his form that’s so familiar now.

You touch yourself gently as you watch him, light strokes, just to tease while you wait for him. With a grunt, he gets down to share the warm blanket with you, rolling you onto your side to face the flames.

“You remember that Mariah Carey Christmas song?” he asks as his rough hand curls around your hip.

You hide your smile in your own arm before answering.

“Not sure if I do. Sing a few bars for me.”

He groans and squeezes your flesh.

“You're pullin’ my leg."

“Yeah, I remember it.”

Remembering songs post-apocalypse is strange, the way you can not hear it for decades but still remember every note and word. Now, ringing through your head, is the high register of All I Want for Christmas is You, and you hum the chorus as Joel’s heavy prick presses against the small of your back.

“That’s how I feel,” he tells you.

His hand gets bolder, travels to the place where your thigh and hip meet, and then farther, between your legs, where it’s quite obvious what you want for Christmas, too.

“I feel the same, Joel.”

His breath puffs against your neck as he nuzzles that tender place behind your ear. He doesn’t often talk about his feelings for you, electing rather to show them through gestures. You like when he says it though, it makes it feel even more tangible, makes a nostalgic warmth tingle throughout your guts and your chest.

“Have you been good this year?” he asks you, a hint of mischief in his voice that makes you giggle.

“I think I have, yeah.”

“Debatable,” he grumbles, “but I guess you won’t get a lump of coal.”

He gets you on your back, and your breath hitches as he covers you with his big, solid body. His skin feels so incredible against yours, always, every time you’re together like this.

He starts to press open-mouthed kisses down your body, a searing hot trail across your most sensitive spots, until he’s mouthing around where you want him most.

“Please, baby, please.”

You know he likes to hear you beg for it. His sweet brown eyes find yours as he smiles, and the warmth of his gaze and the fire start to pull little pinpricks of sweat from your pores.

But he doesn’t tease you for long. You watch with wonder as his graying curls bounce between your legs, his attentive mouth working you tenderly but thoroughly. Your hand tangles in his hair for purchase as you lift your hips to urge him on.

He’s always so sloppy with it, and his saliva drips down onto the blanket, and you love it like this, so messy and haphazard, with no regard to anything but making you feel good, getting you off.

His fingers, three of them, tap at your parted lips. They’re so big as you take them in and swirl your tongue around them, getting them nice and wet, and your own spit seeps from the corners of your mouth. He groans, and you can feel it with his mouth on you.

His hips make small little moves to rut against the blanket between your open legs, and you want him inside, need to feel him inside you.

You tell him this much, though it’s muffled with his fingers in your mouth. He doesn’t let up until you’re teetering on the edge, moaning and whimpering around his flesh, gripping his hair so tight you don’t know how you haven’t pulled it out.

You whine when his mouth retreats.

“I know, I know. So greedy for it,” he coos, teasing.

You scowl at him, but it holds no heat, and he laughs at your impatience as he coaxes you back onto your side.

Behind you, Joel’s chest is solid and sweaty against your back. His fingers are solid too, sure but gentle, as he works them inside one by one to open you up with the help of your drool.

“So good for me. What a present,” he tells you.

It makes you impossibly hotter, and impossibly more in love with the man, and impossibly more impatient.

“I want my present now,” you sigh.

He tuts at you, against your shoulder blade, but you know he won’t deny you for longer because you can feel him leaking all over the skin of your back.

When he presses into you, slow as ever, you feel even more full than you usually do.

“Yes,” you pant, “like that. Just what I wanted.”

He fills you over and over, a leisurely but steady pace, and his hands roam across your slick, heated skin. As his body presses against yours, and as he reaches around to work you to your climax, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed at the realization that things are okay, things are great, and they’re allowed to be, despite the state of everything.

When you come, he comes too, deep inside you. His teeth bare down on your shoulder, and he grunts your name into your skin, and he tells you you’re perfect, and that you’re so good to him.

Joel doesn’t move far, after. He grabs an article of discarded clothing to clean you up. You know his back must kill like this, on the floor, but his happy breaths across your cooling skin make you think that this must be worth a little pain in the morning.

And when he sleepily mumbles, “Merry Christmas, Darlin’,” it sounds a lot more like “I love you.”

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daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 6 months

Text

Keeping It Close To The Chest (KICTTC) pt. 2

Wow, I really was inspired! It really warms my heart that so many people enjoyed it as well! Again I Frankensteined this together as parts of it came to my brain, then connected them all. I swear I shuffled things like 5 times.

Be safe, make good choices

TW/CW: Child abuse, child murder, death, child death (Danny), Shock/ptsd symptoms, Guilt/ self-blame, Child warriors/soldiers, blood, familial abuse/ neglect

~~~ IF I MISSED A TAG please let me know, I want everyone to be able to make the informed choice that is best for them! ~~~

Here is part one in case you missed it!

Part three Part four

Happy holidays my friends :3

~Ren

One two three four five six. In. Hold.

The air in the bat cave was chilly. As usual.

One two three four five. Out. Again.

Usually, moisture clung to Damian’s skin and clothes. Today it seemed harsh and dry like even the cave was voicing its displeasure and passing judgement. It added to his melancholy and nostalgia.

One two three four five six. In. Hold

His first week in Gotham the rain had been coming down in heavy sheets, he had never seen a storm quite as wild before. He had felt small standing on the Wayne manor doorstep next to Mother, with the wind and rain whipping around them, cradling them in water. He shivered at the memory. Damian had only known the weather in Nanda Parbat, being so close to Ladakh the weather alternated between dry and hot to freezing temperatures in the winter. True downpours were rare due to where the base had been built.

One two three four five. Out. Again

The nights were long and cold. Their room only outfitted with bare essentials, had none of the comfort he had now. Damian can still recall how his little body would shiver and shake no matter how hard he tried to still it. Many winter nights under the protection of the dark, Danny would cross their room to slip under his covers. Two little bodies next to each other, the warmth soothing their bruises and sore muscles while they watched the snow drift down from the window.

One two three four five six. In. Hold

Damian was not in shock as Tim may have suggested. No. He would never fall so far that emotional distress would prevent him from what must be done. The nervous tick to his heart was because of his worry for Danyal. Damian had only accepted the heat reflective blanket so Father would leave him be. He clutched the edges in an attempt to refocus. He cannot remember who dragged the plush chair into the batcave but he supposed being comfortable while waiting for Danyal to wake was acceptable. Damian also grudgingly could admit to himself, they were kind to place it so he maintained visual on his little brother.

One two three four five. Out. Again

Danyal’s blood had stained his costume. Green and red, Damian’s colors but now, well. He’d start by asking Alfred to take a look, see if it could be cleaned but maybe it was time to follow in his sibling’s footsteps and completely change his armor out for something that didn’t threaten to drive him to his knees.

One two three four five six. In. Hold

He wanted to be clean, so he'd be allowed in Danyal's room, but he was stuck where he was. Some parts of his clothes were wet still, other less saturated parts were dry and itchy and uncomfortable. He idly scratched at some, and then abruptly stopped when the flakes caught under his nails. He’d have to talk with Danny about why it seemed his green blood tingled against his skin.

One two three four five. Out. Again

( He would bite his tongue though, he's not so dense to miss the fact that prying is glaringly rude, and he doesn't want to give his brother anymore reasons to run from him. Even if he wondered why Danyal's blood smells like rotting food and sweaty locker room with a touch of something he couldn't name. It was a nauseating combination instead of the iron he has grown used to.)

One two three four five six. In. Hold

Toxic green it was always that blasted bright green. Grandfather lived as long as he did due to the pits, the pits brought Jason back, now Danyal was affected, and he had no idea what to do. He was scared. He was so sacred.

One two three four five. Out. Again

"Heyy Bud, maybe it's time to change and shower?" Richard's voice comes from behind where Damian slumped. Damian allows a quick glance at his eldest brother, before he turns his gaze back to Danny's prone form on the bed.

No, he hadn't flinched at the sudden noise, he obviously knew Richard was approaching his seat. Even if his brother is eyeing him with that look like he knows what Damian is thinking. Damian bites his cheek until he splits the skin. Which he can't. He can try to understand because of his experiences with Jason's death, but. Danny was Damian's twin. His other half, they had always been together. Richard can't possibly understand the guilt he carried for not realizing Danny's plan when he realized something had changed the look in his twin's eye, or how ashamed he is for the sliver of pride he felt afterwards when Grandfather handed Damian with his personal kodachi, a blade every member had coveted. How it felt like betrayal that he had thrived in the League those five years after Danyal's death.

He doesn't know what that's like to lose an intrinsic part of you. He had a family before being adopted by Father. The Wayne's had been allowed to stop for Jason's death. Dick had been allowed to mourn his little brother, to erect a grave to sit with. Damian only had had Danyal and then he died, and Damian was never able to speak of Danyal again until now. Hell, Grandfather was pleased to have taught Damian a lesson on rooting out weakness. He regrets not trying to bring life to those memories he cherishes.

Damian's frustrated with himself, the small movement was meant to be a reach for one of the knives that are still lining his body. Inescapable evidence he is balancing precariously on a knife's edge. Evidence Richard is no doubt started collecting the minute he had realized Damian recognized him. A fierce scowl finds its way onto Damian's face as he clenches the material of his pants between his fists. He wants to scream. If he were Jason, he'd snort at his brother's insistence in taking Bruce's place when he glitches over big emotions, when inevitably hides from his children until he's done processing.

Damian doesn't say anything though for a couple minutes, he knows Richard is caring and kind but the idea of talking about feelings with his sappiest brother has Damian suppressing a shutter. He doesn't want to talk about any of this, even if he knows his grace period to collect his thoughts is running out quickly.

"I'll stay with him while you're gone." Richard offers quietly, "Babybat, please?"

The name hasn't bothered Damian in years but now it has him seething and baring his teeth. "Do not call me that Grayson." Damian has never been the baby of the family, that spot has always been Danny's.

No one has questioned his prickly disposition since his arrival or knows why he hates their pet names or where and he disappears on his birthday. They dismissed it with condescending smiles, ruling it as him finally acting like a child, more anger, less murder. Like throwing a tantrum over a ripped toy. How has he managed to fool a family of crime fighting detectives?... He's the superior son of course. The sentiment rings hollow, if they don't know it's because they didn't bother to ever really get know Damian past his carefully constructed front. Truly, Damian thought, a ten-year-old fooling all of the Bats and Wings is ridiculous. Damian is stubborn to a fault and decided if they think his grief is equal to an upset child, well he wasn't going to point it out for them. It took Danyal dropping from the sky for them to realize, there was more to Damian than they knew.

Grayson is watching him carefully now, but his posture remains open, relaxed, his warm smile still firmly in place. Even if Damian knows the tightness at the corners indicates his rising anxiety. Damian still wants to break those perfect teeth of his.

This isn't easy for him, why would he make it easier for them.

Instead of acting on his impulse to maim, he paces closer to the glass, allowing himself to remember their childhood, Danny had burned brightly in the darkness the League surrounded itself in -too brightly- and ultimately snuffed out. Danny was all enthusiastic questions, witty remarks and freely given smiles. He had intended to tell Father about his dead twin, had been preparing how to report the situation just right in the time it took to travel from Nanda Parbat to Gotham with Mother, surely Father would let him speak of Danyal, even once would have been enough.

The whole point of Mother sending him away to live with Father was to get him away from the League and Grandfather's influence. Away from his wretched rules that prevented him from honor Danyal as he should. Mother had tried to hide her emotions away but when Grandfather had started talking about Damian like he did Danny those last few months and -well, Damian was an excellent assassin being the son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne; two of the most resourceful people out there- he knew what her fear looked like in the forced steadiness of her hand as she lead him away, the sorrow in her brow. He knew his Grandfather would soon order him dead as well.

Mother had him pack his bag and took him to Father, one twin lighter than planned. His Father was nothing as expected. Damian had imagined someone like Mother, always calm and collected, her icy displeasure, her quiet pride. Batman was close to expectation, Bruce Wayne on the other hand was loud, emotive, emotionally compromised. Damian would've shrunk under his Father's attention that first meeting if not for his rigorous training. Anger, guilt, resentment all flew around the room. He kept the secret of his twin buried where it couldn't hurt anyone; he had seen Father's reaction to Damian, nothing good would happen if he told Bruce. The detective would surely push and pry until their secrets lay at his feet, once a mystery was presented to him Batman would stay on it until he was satisfied with the answers. The destruction would only be regretted in the aftermath.

It was demeaning to allow his new family to think he lacked in his training but for those first few months with Danny saturating his thoughts Damian would turn to where Danyal would be at his elbow, would open his mouth to whisper in Arabic to share their secrets like they used to or he would leave his blind spots wide open, shame and grief had warred inside him for a long time. Damian had loved his little brother with everything he had and then he was gone- killed by his own hand at his Grandfather's request. The Waynes had given him this new family with assorted siblings overnight, and itmade him breathless to acknowledge that Danyal would never thrive in this warmth.

(Danny had been a mischievous child, witty and too smart for his own good to the frustration of their teachers. Even if he fell short in martial arts and weapons training compared to his older brother, he was better at blending quietly into the shadows. The twins shared a fierce protectiveness between them of course but Danyal? Danyal was creative, had an inherent genius for tricks and traps. Danny who cried in their room after a mission but did not hesitate with those who disrespected Damian. The only evidence their teachers would find was the self-satisfied look on Danny's face, much to their anger. With no evidence to show Grandfather they were forced to be content with pushing them harder until one of them collapsed and then took glee in punishing the one who fell behind. (No matter how much Damian helped with Danyal's sword swings or his forms, his twin rarely beat him in a straight fight.)

Danyal would crawl into his bed those nights seeking his twin's warmth in the cool desert night, and he'd fix Damian with this blazing look before shying away, moving his attention to Damian's hands he would trace every scar and callous until Damian drifted to sleep. Danyal would wake him before their trainer arrived and they'd steal a few quiet moments for themselves.

(The only time Damian woke before Danyal their hands were still between them entwined, his little hand was clutched tight-like Danyal was afraid of it being snatched away. Damian gave a little squeeze back and Danny's eyes fluttered open. When he saw Damian next to him his face stretched into Danny's true smile, soft, shy and sweet. A smile for Damian alone. He has started to forget what it looked like.)

Damian had been adrift in this new world away from the strict dogma the League required. The new rules he was expected to live by now were so different, he constantly wished Danyal was here for Damian to find some familiarity in. He was on an uncontrolled spiral those first months until he had given in to Richard's soft support. It had stung at first, to receive the affection that only Danny had given him in the past.

Richard was the one who noticed he was spending his free time sketching, dragged him out of the manor to give him his first bound sketchbook with charcoal and had beamed proudly the first time Damian allowed him to see it being used. Damian knew just how hard his brother loved their family, loved him. It was the only reason Damian quelled the urge to stab him, even if it was extremely tempting.

No, he must be intentional now. Strong in the face of what is sure to be murky doubt at Damian's claims. Tim had tried to run a paternity test with the blood from one of Danny's bandages Alfred had discarded- it came back with an error message about twenty minutes ago, but Tim was nowhere to be found. If he can bring Richard over to their side before the rest of their siblings or their father push their way into the batcave for answers, he'd manage to keep things relatively neutral while he argued his case.

Damian takes a deep breath strengthening his resolve. This is for Danyal, he will not misstep now with so much on the line.

If Damian fails to convince them, he will take Danny and run. Between the two of them no one would be able to find them unless they wished it to be so.

“Damian…” Dick says his name carefully, with as much feeling as he can, because he knows the shock of having his brother rise from the grave you buried him in. He aches that one of his siblings ever had to go through what he did. “ I think someone should be with you while we wait for him to wake up.”

The sneer of disgust that overtakes Damian’s face at his words was expected and how familiar it was had Dick shoving aside the burst of fondness that it caused, and he cuts Damian off before he delivers what surely is a scathing reply.

“I know you want to be by Danyal’s side, and I can see how much you love him…" Dick clears his throat when it threatens to close, he has to keep talking because this isn't just about Damian, this is about their baby brother that looked terrified under Damian's gaze in the warehouse. "You saw his injuries; I’m worried with how scared he was earlier Danyal may injure himself more if he feels overwhelmed.”

Damian’s eyes closed tightly against the agony that shot through his chest. He knew that. He didn’t need Richard’s reminder. For Danny to look at Damian with such terror, pleading with him- Damian has never hated himself more. He has no doubt this is truly Danyal, Damian knows clones don't carry scars, scars show the life you've lived, it's unique no way to replicate it. They were all there just like Damian remembered.

As heir Damian had to be cold and merciless in the League, he was used to those around him being afraid of his capabilities, of how easily he could snuff out their lives, at one point he had been proud of his Grandfather’s smile when he had heard his four-year-old grandson had taken down his trainer with ease. He had never been that way with Danyal, distant sure, he had to be under the League.

But now that he’s been away, had a chance to meet so many people he knew better. He never felt as alone as he does now, Dick besides him and Danyal resting close by. He never wanted to cause his brother such pain. Richard could be right, he was much more knowledgeable on feelings than Damian, who still stumbles on the finer intricacies of societal interactions. He.. He would do anything for his little brother and if that meant sending him far away from here, Damian would do it. Would help him escape Batman and Bruce Wayne who were both annoyingly persistent. The others.. he could convince, he had enough blackmail stored away for an important favor. It was enough knowing Danyal was alive.

(No. He’s lying to himself. He’s so close to unraveling but will grit and bare it. It’s his responsibility, he always will look after Danyal. No matter the personal cost. He can practically feel Richard’s devastation from here; he’s sure his older brother is desperate to make this better, however he can. Damian won’t let him. He deserves Danyal’s fear, he was a murderer masquerading as a boy. A boy who in this moment aches to hold his little brother close like when they were kids. Beg his forgiveness and sob and marvel because his fear makes this real, his brother is alive. If Damian believed in miracles this would be his.)

He cannot afford to lose this head with Danny vulnerable in the next room, so he breathes a long breath through his nose again stubbornly not looking at Richard, keeps his eyes on his baby brother, watches his strange breathing rhythm raise and lower the sheets in reassurance his twin is still with him and turns his body towards Richard, a small concession.

"Danyal is my little brother, my twin." It's said slowly, Damian carefully controlled his tone, flat, to the point. Damian just had to get this report out, "When we were five Grandfather ordered that I lay claim my title as heir."

From the corner of his eye Damian can see Richard's smile tighten with tension in an effort to keep it there, now that Damian has started though he pushes past the guilt that has haunted him to finish, " I was superior in martial arts and weapons handling but I was too rigid, Danyal- he" Damian's throat is tight, like there is a rock in his throat, and he clears it quickly. "We excelled when we were together, he took to the things I had not. I knew I'd be Heir, being the eldest grandson. But-" He chokes and Richard makes an aborted motion to touch him. Thankfully he waits.

"But I knew he'd be my Shadow; We'd rule together as soon as I took my place at as the Demon Head... Until Grandfather made us duel." To the death goes unsaid but Damian could see the horrible realization breaking across Richard's face, so he turned his head to look at where the bats nest was among the stalactites. He could make out their mass if he looked hard enough. "Danyal threw himself onto my sword and I killed the person I promised to protect!" Damian pauses, and whispers into the air between them. "There was so much blood." It wavers in his mouth but doesn't break.

The truth burns as it's coming out. Damian got all the big things into the open, now he allows himself to fall into his elder brother's arms and weep. All his pain and regret soaking Richard's shoulder. His body is still sitting with Richard, but Damian is back in a time filled with sharp strikes, where punishment was to be embraced. Swords against whetstones. Legacies to be molded. Damian can hear the whoosh of leather through the air and on cold nights the scars on his back ache.

Damian shivers now in Richard's hold his breath clouding the space between them. Damian shoots straight out of Richard's arms as soon as he realizes it's not just his breath that's visible. The cave had gone from chilly to freezing in a flash. The temperature in the warehouse had dropped too, right before his twin came tumbling out of the sky. Something is wrong. In the time Damian had looked away something had begun to stir in the recovery room. The once steady if slow beating of his twin's heart now resembles an average heartbeat.

Energy pulses. Biting wind almost takes their feet off the ground. The lights burst, raining glass from the ceiling. Richard throws an arm around Damain and pulls him into one of those springy twists only he could do that brings them under some cover.

A shadow writhes in the dark of the recovery room and Damian struggles to free himself from Richard's grip. "Danyal!" He's becoming desperate. Danyal has to be alright. Damian cannot handle losing his baby brother again. Richard stays firm. "Let me go! Please he could be hurt." His voice cracks over the plead, he feels small. Small and helpless. Two things he swore that day he would never give into again.

Running out of patience Damian swipes at him with a blade and when Richard yelps and releases his arm he rolls, pushing into a sprint once he drops. Only to stop cold a few feet from the door. Peeking up at him from the side of Danyal's bed are solid glowing green eyes.

Part Three 01/06/2024

108 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 1 year

Text

The Con Artist | Part 7

Summary: Harry has some hard decisions to make and you do your best to make the most of you current life, even without Harry around.

A/n: detective!harry x criminal!reader. This part is written slightly different than the others. We have some time jumps and it's a bit more choppy because Harry and y/n are in different places so their povs will be seperate. This is the last part of a short series. Read the other parts first. The Con Artist Masterlist

7.9k words

Warning: Grief, angst, mentions of mafia, violence, and illegal activity

◈ ◈ ◈

“Then I said goodnight and tucked you away inside a place called Nostalgia, where you’ll always remain unspoiled, somewhere between my lungs that used to breathe ocean air and my belly that fluttered with hope.” ― Victoria Erickson

◈ ◈ ◈

“Harry?!” You just heard him say something, his voice was clear in your ears and you swear he was just in the bedroom but maybe he was in the garden? You walked to the back of the house and opened the door. Stepping down into the grass you looked around. He wasn’t there either. You suddenly had an awful feeling in your gut. Had he been taken? Was he kidnapped? Where could he be? Had he left you already without saying goodbye?

“Haarrry!” You shouted again as you walked through the garden to the stiff bushes with the orange flowers. You peered behind the thick part of the leaves and you saw one of his rings on the ground.

You quickly picked it up and put it into your pocket. But now you were feeling anxious. Nauseated. Confused. Terrified.

Harry was gone.

You ran back into the house and shouted for him again but this time you were answered with the sound of thunder clanking at the windows and shaking the large tree at the front of the house. You yelped at the noise and felt your panic rise until you couldn’t stand on your feet any longer when your limbs became heavy and filled with sand. The sky was suddenly dark as the rain clouds moved in. Your knees and your hips ached in terror.

Harry was gone.

Another crack of lightning clanged and you gasped and shouted and reached into the air and felt your sheets twisted around your body. You were sweating and your heart was pounding.

“Harrry…” you whispered into the room as you rolled over and realized where you were and what this was. It was worse than your nightmare. The same one you’d been having for nearly a month. Every time you woke up you realized it was all real. At least in your nightmare, Harry had just been there. But when your mind slowly wove its way back into reality when the dream cleared from the space behind your eyes you realized Harry had not just been there.

Harry was gone.

The day you realized that Harry had been gone from you longer than you’d even known him was the day you began having nightmares about him being gone. They varied a little but all were dark and sad and scary. This one was no different except that you were woken by the sound of thunder.

It was rainy season. You didn’t realize how rainy it would get. The skies were cloudy with peeks of blue in the middle of the day every day, but like clockwork, toward the evening, there would be rain and thunder and wind and you were all alone in the cute casita del sol. But you sure did miss el sol and you sure did miss Harry.

It had been nearly a month and a half. You hadn’t heard from him since the day he arrived in LA. He texted you with his new number on your new phone. You both got those burner phones to use for the time being. It didn’t have internet. In fact, you had no internet whatsoever. There was no wifi where you were. There was a TV but it was all in Spanish. And while you were attempting to learn as much as you could your heart was progressively disintegrating into nothing and so your thoughts were haunted, completely taken over by what could have happened to Harry. By the idea that you were probably never going to see him again. You hadn’t realized how much you really liked Harry. How deep your feelings ran. You didn’t realize how desperately you’d miss him. You didn’t realize the physical toll it would take on you and now if you ever saw him again you’d never allow him to leave like he did. You’d fight him. Handcuff him to make him stay. You’d slash his tires. Anything to keep him from leaving. Because he disappeared into thin air.

You texted him. Called him. Let the phone ring and ring and ring and ring. He didn’t answer. He never called back.

When you finally convinced Felix to call his cousin Mathias (it was part of Harry’s instructions that you were not to be attempting contact with anyone in the US until Harry returned) you learned that Mathias also didn’t know where Harry was. He’d come back and was there a few days before disappearing. Mathias said it was possible that Harry had packed some things before leaving but he wasn’t sure because most of his things were still there.

Mathias said that the FBI had visited him and that they were looking for Harry. And for you.

With that, you said your goodbyes. You couldn’t stay on the line too long. Nothing was safe. You were trapped in a place that was gorgeous and sweet but you hated it. You hated not knowing where Harry was or if your mother was okay. You were quite frankly ready to steal a car and drive North back up to LA and find Harry yourself. You’d even gone so far as to make a plan for it. You’d chop your hair off and dye it. You’d use cash for everything, leaving no trace that you were ever anywhere. You’d use phones borrowed in stores and gas stations and restaurants. You’d find him.

But the call with Mathias was a couple of weeks ago and that meant that Harry had been missing for over a month.

Harry was gone.

◈ ◈ ◈ A month and a half earlier ◈ ◈ ◈

Harry had told Rebecca he’d need to take some time off from the force. Not only did he not want to transfer, but he also lied and said that he had some family issues he needed to sort out, and taking leave was the only thing that made sense. But he’d made up his mind he wouldn’t be going back to work. He didn’t want to be gone from you too long.

He’d make contact with your mother, get the rest of your cash from your apartment, and head back South in a few days' time. That was his plan.

He had packed his things up, the things he’d need most. He wasn’t going to make it look like he’d left on purpose in case anyone came looking for him. He just hoped Mathias would keep his mouth closed. He trusted his friend but, as Harry knew well being a detective, people could be persuaded to talk with the right tactics. Harry needed to get back to you. His plan would be to have you two go somewhere else once he got back. Maybe somewhere close to the beach. Harry loved the water. Loved to swim and fish and lay in the sun. That sounded nice. It’d be a place where no one knew you. Except for your mother. He had a plan for her.

He'd put his suitcase into his car and planned on going to your apartment to get your cash. You told him where you’d stashed all of it. He knew it was a big risk, going back to your apartment. He parked a couple of blocks away. He planned on feeling it out. If he didn’t see anyone and nothing felt off he’d grab your cash and leave as quickly as possible. But, if he thought for even a moment that something was off, he wouldn’t go through with it. He knew someone might be casing your apartment. The FBI couldn’t make you help them. They couldn’t make you be the bait. But they sure as hell would try. And they’d threaten you with a long jail sentence or they’d offer you safety, but only if you could help them. And if they were looking for you, they were looking for Harry by now. So he had to be careful.

Nothing seemed out of place. No one was watching him. There wasn’t anything amiss. When he walked into the building no one looked in his direction, and no one cared. Harry felt like maybe his timing was good and he’d get lucky to get in and out.

Harry made it up to your floor and the moment he stepped onto the carpet of the hallway, there was someone there. A woman. With a smile. She knew who he was, she said. She flashed her badge. FBI. Special Agent Thomas. Deeann Thomas.

Harry knew he was busted. He knew it and he felt his heart rate pick up and he shook his head in disbelief at his bad luck. He shouldn’t have come. He should have just called it a loss. He should have known better. Why did you both need all that extra money anyway? You had enough to live happily and securely in Mexico for as long as you wanted. For the rest of your lives.

“We would like to have a conversation with you, Mr. Styles. I think it’ll benefit all of us,” she spoke as she put her badge away and stepped in toward him.

Harry shook his head, “No. Not without a lawyer. I’m a cop. I know the drill.”

Special Agent Thomas scoffed and put her hands on her hips, “Right. The innocent cop who fell in love with the girl he was meant to be putting in prison. And then what happened, Casanova? You found out all her dirty deeds and then you kept her safe and warm in your bed. You dropped the case and lied to your boss? You helped her escape? Aiding and abetting. Harboring a criminal. Obstructing a criminal case. You’ll be going to jail for a long time if anyone finds out Mr. Styles. But if you come with me we can talk and you can tell your version of what happened. Explain why you’re here right now. Something important inside of that apartment you’re looking for? Perhaps you’re looking for the item Mr. Castellanos is looking for. To get him to back off? I think it’s too late for that,” she sighed and folded her hands together in front of her body, “You have two options, Mr. Styles. The first option is to come with me and tell us what you know and we’ll work with you and Ms. Y/l/n to get the lightest sentence possible for her and maybe even witness protection if she can be useful. You’ll get let go without another question. We won’t even need to bring you up in court at all. We won’t tell your boss what you’ve been up to. But you have to come with us,” she stepped forward another couple of inches, looking up at Harry, “Your second option is that you leave right now and risk being seen by Adrian Castellanos’ men sitting in their cars across the street waiting for you or Ms. Y/l/n to show face. You realize they’ve been looking for you too. Correct? That’s right. They know all about you. Someone was able to identify you and you're named as a target right now. If you leave I can’t help you nor will it make me lose a wink of sleep tonight. And it also just means that if Castellanos’ men let you go, which I honestly doubt they would, you will be brought up in our investigation and you will go to prison for your own crimes. Because, quite frankly, it’s what you deserve. But I suppose if you do leave here now, it’s unlikely you’d actually go to prison. Because you’ll be dead if Castellanos’ men get to you.”

Harry clenched his jaw and gulped down the saliva that was stuck in his throat. Deeann was probably bluffing. At least a little. But he knew he’d rather be in the custody of the FBI than the mafia. He knew his rights, though, and he knew he was allowed an attorney but he just wanted to make this all go away. Getting an attorney involved would mean more days wasted here without you, a case that would be never-ending. They’d continue to search for you and ask Harry questions and it’d go nowhere. More days trying to work with the FBI. Maybe he could get them off your trail with a quick lie. Maybe he could be released and let off if he twisted it the right way and then he could get back to you.

But it didn’t go the way he thought it would.

When Harry had mostly convinced Deeann that he didn’t know where you were, she had another idea.

“That’s fine. Then we’ll use you to get Adrian. He’s already after you anyway. And if he thinks he can get you, then he’ll think he can get Y/n.”

Harry argued at first. He told her they couldn’t make him but Deeann reminded him that there were members of the Greek mafia looking for him, “The moment they see you walking around or driving to your Long Beach house, they will follow you. And whatever happens to you outside of my custody isn’t on me. I suggest you stay a while and work with me.”

Harry learned that you had stolen a ruby ring from Adrian. A very rare and extremely sentimental ring that belonged to Adrian’s father. Given to him by the boss. The ring had an inscription inside and every family that mattered in their organization had one just like it. But you’d stolen the Castellanos’ family ring and Harry imagined you probably pawned it for a few hundred dollars. And you made Adrian look like a fool. He’d brought you to his home and thought he was going to get laid. But then he woke up the next day with all the jewelry he’d worn gone and some of the jewelry that was in his closet stolen. Including the ring. Adrian’s brother found out he had been robbed. By a woman. And that just wouldn’t do. It was humiliating. Adrian didn’t want to be the laughingstock.

Adrian was known for being a hothead. He made a promise to get the ring back and have you brought to him, where he would very likely kill you. Just for making him look dumb. For looking weak. They couldn’t be sure that was why Adrian wanted you brought to him alive, but those were his instructions. To bring you to him alive. How did Agent Thomas know all this? The mafia had an informant working for the FBI. More than one.

So Harry would do whatever he needed to keep you safe. He didn’t realize the levity of it until he was given more details. And the idea that Adrian Castellanos might have also wanted you dead was terrifying. He was glad you were safe in Sinaloa. For now.

Harry was given a set of instructions. And was kept under watch by the FBI for his own safety. It would take time, though. And Harry needed to get Omero (who he realized was in fact Oregano when he was shown a picture of the man) to turn on Adrian. It was unlikely that he would, knowing how brutal the mafia could be to members who were rats. But he could certainly try.

Omero lived in North Hollywood. He only went to Cottonwood to track you down. And he nearly had you. It was almost too easy. A few drops of Rohypnol in the beer you were nursing (not so much that you’d need to be carried out, but just enough that it would be easy to take you to another location) at the smalltown bar with a friend who was already three sheets to the wind on long island ice teas. All was going according to plan for Omero. He was surprised at how easy you were. Until Harry showed up.

And then Omero spotted Harry at the hospital after two of Adrian’s men tried kidnapping you. Omero was there to gauge what the cops knew. And when he recognized Harry, he notified Adrian about him. Probably just a boyfriend, but definitely an obstacle. Not only had Harry stopped Omero from taking you, but he also stopped two armed men from kidnapping you in the middle of the night. And that’s when they found out Harry was a cop.

Harry considered running. Getting in his car, driving South, and just forgetting the whole thing with the FBI. But he was being watched. Not only by the FBI but by Castellanos’ men. He wouldn’t get far. He had no choice but to help the FBI if he ever wanted to see you again.

But that also meant he had to cut off contact with you until everything was settled. He couldn’t let anyone know he knew where you were or that he had contact with you. That was the hardest part. He was sure you’d think he abandoned you. He hated the thought of going silent and not reaching out to you. But it was the only way he knew that he could keep your location a secret.

◈ ◈ ◈

Felix was a friend to you while Harry was gone. He checked on you almost every day.

“Buenos días, chica bonita!” He’d open your curtains and clap his hands together.

You preferred sleep over getting up but Felix had a way of making you smile, despite everything, so you’d pull your sleepy self from your bed and make coffee to share it with him before he left for work. He knew you were sad. You had no one. But he’d leave you be some days. He tried his best to keep your spirits up but he understood the need to wallow and to sleep and cry. So he didn’t bother you every day.

You relied heavily on Felix, Rafa, and Lily for the first couple of weeks. You needed more than one lesson on how to light the hot water heater. It was annoying at first but all the little extra things you had to do throughout the day really did help you to feel productive. And laundry was a whole thing. You washed your clothes on the built-in washboard at the back of the house. There was a sink with two sides and you’d wash your clothes by hand and then hang everything to dry. You ate most of your dinners with Rafa and Lily. You learned that the main meal was at 3 pm. Felix would come home later if he was working so he would miss the big meal of the day usually. But some days you just stayed in your little house when you didn’t want company. Your new life took some getting used to.

Lily took you into town to buy groceries at the market every week. Rafa had a small plot for vegetables and some fruit. Eggs were free for the taking in the hen house. Your life wasn’t terrible. Things were just different and you felt isolated despite having Mathias’ family helping you and their kindness.

But when the night came and the power was shut off and the candles flickered light along the walls and the ceiling your mind wandered to Harry. Was he okay?

The ache that his absence left inside of you was painful. It didn’t feel fair. It didn’t feel like anything you’d ever get over. And day after day of calling his phone number and letting it ring without a single answer had you anxious and your fingers were bitten and your nails jagged. The feeling left a bitter taste in your mouth. You figured he could be dead. And when you allowed your mind to think of the way he might have been murdered or tortured you felt sick. It was your fault.

Or perhaps he dropped you off in this place so you’d be safe and went back to his normal life without the trouble of having you around. You were more trouble than it was worth. He didn’t need to deal with you anymore and once he got back he realized it was just easier to be without contact.

But in all the scenarios in your mind about what could have happened to Harry you were sure of one thing; that he did mean it when he said he was coming back. He meant it in those moments that he said it. You knew he did. But you also knew he couldn’t foresee the future or know what he was going to be up against.

You had hope still, which was why you were staying put for the time being. But hope was slowly withering away. Every night when you listened to the rain patter on the clay roof and you stared out the window to watch the big tree at the front sway and thrash about in the wind it felt like your own storm was at its peak. But soon, it would die down and you’d forget that it rained and you’d see the sun and your life would turn its page to a new chapter and Harry would be a distant memory. A man you could’ve loved but who would never be more than a faded smile on your lips.

◈ ◈ ◈

Omero’s sister, Clio had taken a liking to Harry. Who wouldn’t? She convinced Omero that meeting with Harry would be in their best interest. Perhaps Harry would tell them where to find you. And the closer Clio could get to Harry the better, she thought.

So that was Harry’s in. At first he was surprised by Clio’s presence when she sat down across from him at the café. He was expecting Omero, “Who are you?”

Clio smiled and batted her lashes as she placed her fingers on the wooden tabletop, showing off her pretty, manicured nails, “I’m Clio,” she held her hand out to shake Harry’s. Reluctantly he took it and she continued, “I’m Omero’s sister. He couldn’t make it. But I thought I’d come and see what you’ve got to say.”

Harry took a deep breath. This wasn’t part of the plan but he was going to try and make it work. He told Clio that he knew where you were. That he could help their organization find you.

Clio listened intently to the handsome man with bright green eyes and a deep voice lined with a British accent. He was even sexier in person. She figured maybe he’d be more interested in spilling the details to a beautiful woman, rather than her brother. She was certainly interested in seeing a little more of his tattoos which she could tell he had them hiding under his sleeves.

“Why would you give her up so easily, Harry?” Clio raised her brows at him and sipped her wine.

Harry did his best to bluff his way through the conversation and when he became aware that Clio might be attracted to him he used that to his benefit. It came in handy from time to time during his career as a detective.

“Because I’m tired of being hunted, Clio. I need some peace. And I barely know her. She was fun while she lasted but then I learned about what she was doing. Now I just want out.” He hated speaking about you that way, even if it was for a good reason.

Clio didn’t necessarily believe Harry right away. But she liked how he looked at her. Flirted with her. She liked the way he’d touch his lips and his dimples would dig into his cheeks when he’d smile at her.

Harry would play into Clio’s attraction for him. He just hoped it didn’t get him into more trouble than he was already in. He could stomach turning up the charm with her if it meant she’d convince Omero that Harry was trustworthy.

“But you’re a cop. Are you meeting with us so you can corner us into a confession or something?”

Harry licked his lips and cocked his head to the side as he let his eyes travel to Clio’s lips. He needed to make her weak, distract her, “I’m not a cop anymore. Got into trouble because of her. Now I’m without a job and I’m ready to get Castellanos off my back.”

Agent Thomas told Harry he’d done good work, “You need to do whatever it takes to get her to say something. And I mean anything, Harry. You won’t get in trouble for sleeping with her because this isn’t your case. If that’s where you wanted to take it of course.”

Harry shook his head, “I’m not sleeping with Clio. That’s dangerous and I’m not interested anyway.”

But he was still encouraged to continue putting on the charm. His next outing would be with Clio again. Harry just wanted to get this over with.

He was put up in a small hotel room. The room next to his was where Agent Thomas was staying. He ate breakfast with her just about every morning and he got to know her a little. But Deeann was very strict and cold. She had a goal in mind and she would do nearly anything to achieve it. And Harry was her ticket.

Harry didn’t sleep well at night. He normally didn’t have issues falling asleep quickly, but lately, his mind wouldn’t stop. He missed you. He didn’t think it would be so hard to be in the situation he was in. He hadn’t known you for all that long but he recognized how much he really liked you. Maybe it was love even. He didn’t want to think about that too deeply but he couldn’t stop thinking about how you were feeling or what you were doing. Or if you cared even. Maybe you were having the time of your life in Sinaloa. Maybe Felix was filling in where Harry once served to keep you company.

He hated the thought that Felix could replace him. Or anyone for that matter. But he was the one who left you behind. Harry did that. He would deserve it if you moved on. Which was why he needed to get this job done fast so he could return to you before that happened.

When Harry met with Clio again it was at an expensive bar. A chic rooftop bar in Hollywood called Bar Lis. It was jazz night and Clio had reserved a table for two with a view of both the city and the stage. Harry knew he’d need to keep flirting with her to keep her interested, to throw her off track. So he drank a few extra bourbon old-fashioneds to loosen himself up. It worked too.

Clio kept her hand at his knee and whispered into his ear about how handsome he looked. She drank a healthy amount of dirty martinis and Harry kept his arm around her shoulders. He remembers her lips on his neck and he felt nausea course through his guts. It wasn’t the bourbon that made him feel sick. It was because he couldn’t stop thinking about you and wondering what you were doing and how you were feeling. And here he was with a wealthy mafia family member who was trying to seduce him. It would have worked if he hadn’t had you on his mind. You weren’t ever not on his mind.

“Excuse me!” Harry got up and made his way to the restroom. He splashed water on his face and spit into the sink a few times to get the acrid taste out. He needed to redirect and get this job done. Once and for all. He needed to get a meeting with Omero. He needed Clio to stop playing around and give him more than just flirtatious touches and whispered innuendos. But he would not stoop to sleeping with her. There wasn’t anyone else he wanted to touch in that way except you.

Harry got back to their table after calming himself. He sat down and slung his arm back over Clio’s shoulder and leaned in to speak, “You look lovely tonight. I don’t think I told you before.”

Clio absolutely lit up. He hadn’t told her actually. In fact, he’d had yet to praise her appearance and just the idea that he was suddenly dousing her in compliments had her reeling.

Before the night was over Clio asked him to her place but Harry declined. He knew he’d never be able to sleep with her just for a meeting with Omero. Not when all he could think of was you.

“Darling, I’d love to but this is our first date. We should take it slow. Don’t you think?” But Harry did have to do something. He needed to make Clio think this could go somewhere. So he grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her face into his and kissed her mouth roughly.

And Clio was stunned by it. Even though he said no to going back to her place the kiss left her spinning and flustered.

It was because of that kiss that Harry finally got a meeting with Omero after Clio had convinced her brother that Harry was trustworthy.

Omero suggested a strip club for the meeting. It was owned by Adrian. Club Castellanos. Clearly, they didn’t care that anyone knew the place was owned by the Castellanos family.

Harry had worn a wiretap every time he met with Clio and so he was also wearing one with Omero. And it didn’t take long for Omero to spill the details once he got comfortable with Harry. All it took was a handful of drinks and a private room for him to act like he was some big shot in front of high-end strippers. Omero, it turned out, was a bit of an egomaniac and loved attention and compliments. Kind of like his sister Clio. He liked when people thought he was powerful. He’d brag a little too much about things he probably shouldn’t.

Harry was seated on the couch at one end and on the other side was Omero with a leggy redhead eating up every word he spoke. And when Omero admitted to being hired by Adrian to kidnap you, and how he’d been hired to kill for Adrian in the past, the gig was up. The FBI flooded the room.

Omero made the mistake of naming the person whom he killed. The name of the deceased, along with a confession and the method of payment for the job was enough to get Omero taken down.

Though they really wanted Adrian, this was a big win. Another item to the list of what they could charge Adrian with when the day came.

Harry had been given a chance to take witness protection if he continued to work for the FBI to bring Adrian Castellanos down, but he declined. Harry knew he didn’t need to stick around anymore and with the sudden flurry of FBI on the crime organization everyone was laying low. It was Harry’s time to head back to Mexico. But not until he went back to your apartment one last time. He knew it was a risk but he figured he’d been doing nothing but taking risks at this point. He had a plan and he wanted to stick with it. At the very least, he wanted to make sure Joyce could take care of Buster and Barry. The money would be a bonus. If he could get it.

◈ ◈ ◈

You slowly opened your eyes to see the bright sun shining through your curtains. Harry’s hand was on your shoulder and his lips at your neck. You could hear him speaking in between soft pecks, “Y/n… wake up… I missed you so much… I’m here… Open your eyes, Y/n…” his presence felt so real. So warm. His breath on your neck as he spoke his words, the calluses on his fingers, his chest pressed into your back, his scent…

You squeezed your eyes closed and smiled. Maybe for just a moment, you’d let yourself feel it. Believe it. Bask in it. You breathed in deeply and placed your hand up over his, “Harry…” you whispered into your pillow. Harry pulled his arm around your further, his other arm driving underneath your body as he squeezed you into his chest.

“Y/n… hey… I’m here…” his voice sounded so real. So close.

“Harry… don’t leave please,” you clutched his hands and turned your head to feel his unshaven face. The whiskers tickled your cheek and then you smelled onion on his breath. And a little bit of his sweat. You popped your eyes open and quickly turned in his arms to come face to face with the man you’d all but given up on seeing ever again. You were stunned. No words could come from your mouth when you brought your hands up to touch his chin and his cheeks. Was this real? Were you still dreaming?

The grin on Harry’s face widened and the dimple on his left side poked in underneath your palm and you gasped. This felt very real. You dropped your mouth open and tears fell from your lashes.

Harry brought his hands up to your face, cupping your cheeks and his mouth covered yours in warmth and light. The shock of the moment had your heart thumping wildly. He backed away and pressed his forehead to yours, “I’m here, Y/n. It’s me. I’m not leaving.”

You blinked your eyes and the moisture from the tears made your sight bleary and you knew it had to be wrong. It had to be a cruel trick of the brain. Or you’d fallen into madness finally.

When Harry brought your arm up to his mouth he kissed your knuckles and up to your inner wrist, further up to the bend of your arm, and then to the curve where your arm met your shoulder as he kept his eyes on yours.

“Oh, my god…” you spoke in a shaky whisper. It was real. It was him. You weren’t dreaming. His warm body was against yours in your bed in the late morning in the Sinaloa mountains with onion on his breath and sweat on his skin. He smelled like Harry. He sounded like Harry. He had Harry’s eyes and his nose and those pink lips, and the brown curls that you realized he’d had cut.

“You cut your hair?” You sat up and looked down at him. The handsome prick.

Harry looked confused. He laughed his words as he sat up to reach for you, “That’s the first question you have for me?”

You pulled away from his grasp and pushed at him, “Well, yeah. I mean you disappear without a trace for over a month and a half and you fucking come back to me one random morning when I thought I’d just never see you again and you’ve got your hair trimmed? You came back to me with a haircut, Harry. Like you had time for a fucking haircut?” You shoved at his chest softly. Your face got warm when you felt Harry’s chest under your palm.

Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, tilting his head to the side, “I wanted to look nice for you. It was just a quick cut. You like it?” He lifted a hand up toward his hair and flicked at a curl with a grin.

“And your breath smells like onions. Did you also stop at a taqueria on your way in? Just a quick little meal before you stopped in to see me? No rush to get here, then, huh?” You knew you were giving him a hard time but if you were the one trying to get back to Harry you sure as fuck wouldn’t have stopped to get a trim, nor would food have been on your mind. You’d have wanted to get straight to Harry as quickly as possible.

Harry laughed and before you could push him off of you he had both arms around you and he pulled you into his chest and onto his lap, “Oh my god. You’re crazy. You know that? Fuck I missed you, though. And my breath smells like onions because Rafa had tacos ready when I got here. He insisted I have a taco and he loaded it up with onions and cilantro and so I ate it. I didn’t want to be rude to the man who hosted you so graciously.”

You tried to keep a straight face but your heart was about to crack through your chest it was knocking about so hard. Harry was here. He was back and you didn’t care if he did stop at a taqueria or got a haircut. You just felt dizzy, and happy. Happy. You were happy he was back.

But you were pissed off too. You balled your fists and pushed them into his chest and squinted at him, “Why the fuck didn’t you call me back or reach out to me? I thought you might have been dead.”

Harry shook his head as he looked down at you with a smile, “Fuck. I love you.”

That had time stopping for you. Your breath halted in your lungs. You fisted the material of Harry’s shirt into your hands and let the tears continue their path down your face. You let out a sob and Harry put his hands into your hair and leaned in slowly with his lips brushing against yours, “Did you hear me? I love you.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief and then gasped for air when your sob interrupted the laugh, “Goddamnit… Harry,” you pulled back to see his eyes, “I heard you. Fuck you…” but you tilted yourself forward and pressed your lips to his and the way you felt so insane and so happy and so angry had slowly melded into warmth and desperation and bliss.

Harry laughed into your kiss and clutched you tight, your sheets still wrapped around half of your body and twisting between you both. You carded your fingers into his hair and continued kissing his lips and then you let out a laugh when Harry couldn’t help but puff bursts of air into your mouth with his own laughter.

You smiled and brought your hands down to the back of his neck and kissed his cheek and then his jaw, “I love you, too. But fuck you for all of this. God, I hate you!” You pushed him down to the mattress and pulled your sheets off your legs and then straddled his waist before lowering your face to his to continue kissing his lips.

Harry sighed and put his hands on your hips and spoke his words between your pecks, “You do?... yeah?...” but you couldn’t talk anymore. You had a lot to make up for and kissing him was far more important than hashing out all your feelings with words.

You did love him. You also hated him for keeping you waiting like he did. You weren’t one to wait around for some guy. Yet, here you were, attacking your lover with your mouth and tears like you’d known him for years and he just returned from war. It felt like that. It felt good to have him back. It felt like now you could begin the rest of your life.

◈ ◈ ◈ One year later ◈ ◈ ◈

Harry gently brought the small boat in and beached it with a rope tied to the palm tree. You were washing dishes as you looked out the window and watched him come in.

At 12 pm, almost every day, Harry would come back from a morning of fishing. He didn’t always bring back fish, but today it was a healthy catch. A great catch. He had a cooler full of small Snappers and Sierras but he had a big one with him too. Harry was grinning ear to ear when he lifted it from his boat and looked toward the window you were looking out of. He knew you’d be watching out the window.

By some miracle, he’d caught his first Dorado. A 25-pound beautiful ocean fish. An amazing feat for his small boat and homemade lures. But he was ecstatic. Rightfully so.

You turned off the faucet and wiped your hands on your linen dress as you rushed to meet him outside. When your feet hit the sand Harry was already scooping you into his arm while still keeping hold of the dorado in the other.

“This is getting eaten today! Your mother keeps saying how I’m the worst fisherman but this proves her wrong. Look at this!” Harry lifted the blue and yellow finned creature upward and you backed away a few inches nodding, “Yes! It’s beautiful!” You didn’t really want to touch it but you were so proud of Harry and you loved cooking up and eating his catches when he brought some in. But Harry was in charge of cleaning them. Which he always did happily.

Your mother came out when she heard the commotion, her little house was just next to yours so she heard you and Harry.

“Harry! Oh my god!” She gripped Harry’s arm and laughed.

The Dorado was a picturesque fish and the fact that Harry had caught it with his rudimentary fishing kit and boat, well it was truly something.

You brought a bucket of seawater to Harry’s station outside of the house where he cleaned the fish he’d catch to help rinse the scales. Your mother turned up the music she had playing and brought out a bottle of Siete Leguas. She poured a small bit at the bottom of a glass for herself and for Harry and you took the smallest sip of Harry’s glass, once again cementing to you the understanding that you just weren’t a fan of alcohol as much as the locals raved about this particular tequila.

Your life had become sweeter. Simpler. More fulfilling since Harry had come back to you a year ago. It wasn’t hard to get a house on the ocean with cash. The area was mostly undeveloped, with dirt roads and not local to a big supermarket or convenience store. But you didn’t need any of it. The local frutería provided you with basic fruits and vegetables, eggs, sugar, milk, and toilet paper.

And like you always imagined, you had cats. Two of them. You named them Buster and Barry. They came and went as they pleased. You were sure the family that lived a half kilometer up the beach also claimed the cats and had already named them. But that’s how things were in your little community. Everyone was like family. You all watched out for one another.

“C’mon… let’s go to bed. I wanna show you something,” Harry spoke quietly into your neck as he leaned over the chair you were sitting in. Like most evenings, you all sat outside on the beach and watched the sunset.

You turned your head to your mother and she waved you off, “Go on. Same bullshit every night with you two,” she laughed.

Your little house was quiet but you could always hear the sound of the waves crashing at night. Harry pressed himself into your back as he walked you into the house, his arms folded over your chest and his wide stride pushing you toward the bedroom.

“So what’d you want to show me?” You asked with a big smile.

I wanna show you something.

That seemed to be Harry’s go-to phrase to get you to go to bed. Your mom caught on quickly. You were happy she had her own, separate house and that the ocean waves were loud at night.

“Oh come on…” Harry whined when he closed your bedroom door, “look at this…” he lifted his hands up and you turned to face him, “these hands caught a 25-pound fish today. We feasted. I’m a provider.”

You laughed and nodded, “You’re right. Thank you, Harry. It was actually really good and you provided us with a lot of food today.”

You were mostly being serious. Harry’s catch was special and you didn’t want to minimize the skill and work it took to pull the Dorado in. But you couldn’t help yourself when you added, “But these hands,” you lifted your own upward, “washed all of our dishes, chopped up the cilantro, onions, and limes, made fresh salsa with roasted tomatoes and serrano in the molcajete, cut up the guava and strawberries to make our dessert, and…” you took a step in toward him and pulled at his hand, “jerked you off into my mouth this morning before you went out to fish.”

Harry started to protest but you dropped your hand to the waistband of his shorts and raised your brows as you continued, “I’d say, the fact that you orgasmed into my hand and my mouth this morning is part of the reason why you were able to catch that Dorado today. Don’t you think?”

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed in disbelief but when you slipped your fingers under the band and pushed your hand further into his shorts Harry’s laugh stopped short and he kept his eyes on you.

You brushed your fingers over his still-soft dick with a grin and brought your free hand up his arm to his bicep, “Don’t you think?” You squeezed gently around his cock.

Harry nodded, “Yeah… I guess so.”

You chuckled as you let your hand move up from his bicep and pushed your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck, “You did so well, baby. That fish was delicious. I know you worked hard for it and I’m proud of you. But I’m gonna need you to show me how much you appreciate me. I showed you my appreciation and love this morning and didn’t ask for a single thing in return. So if you’re gonna show me anything...” you let go of his dick, which was now half hard and growing, moving your other hand up to his hair, “… I’d like to see your appreciation and love for me now.”

Harry never needed to be told twice when you requested his “appreciation”. He loved showing you how much he loved you and appreciated you. He was great at it.

“Oh, I’ll show you all my appreciation, dear,” he said as he pulled you into the bed. He lifted your dress and put his head between your thighs to begin.

The ocean waves crashed and the wind blew your curtains gently. The nights were never lonely anymore. Not a day went by when you didn’t think about your old life. It felt like ages ago that you were stealing from rich men and loving every moment of it. But now, you couldn’t imagine loving anything more than the way your life had turned out. Some days you regretted the way you lived your life in LA, but if you hadn’t been a criminal, if you hadn’t been a career thief, you’d have never met Harry and so part of you was thankful for it all.

You slid your fingers into Harry’s curls and sighed at the feel of his mouth kissing the insides of your thighs.

“I love you, Harry,” you whispered into the room with a smile on your face.

“Mmm… I love you, Y/n,” Harry whispered in response as he continued to show you his appreciation.

Ahhh! Thank you for for sticking with me and reading this story! I love this one and hope you all do too. Let me know your thoughts!

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boogiewrites · 1 year

Text

Hindsight's Always 19/84 - Pt 1

Single Dad Eddie / Reader AU

You left Hawkins in 1984. You had no intentions of ever coming back. But life had other plans. You grew sick of the fake people and conversations, the classism and nauseating academic personalities of your past life. You craved life with its highs and lows, its triumphs and heartbreak over the beige monotony of white-collar progress. Now divorced and happy to be, you move back home. You run into an old friend, Eddie Munson. He was a memory that had haunted you for years. You haven't been the only one whose life has changed drastically. He's working two jobs and taking care of his son alone. You came back to Hawkins to find a new path, but you're faced with your younger self instead. Will you finally give her the answers she's always needed? Are you brave enough to say the things you couldn't before you left? With the growing connection between two broken adults, it looks like you never should've left.

You know what they say, Hindsight's always 20/20.

You walked down the stairs from your apartment onto the street. The sunset painted the town in nostalgia. Muted colors like looking back into your memories surrounded you. It all felt different and somehow exactly the same. You’d been back for about a month now. But with the exception of holidays, you haven't spent any time in Hawkins for over a decade. You didn’t even go to your 10-year high school reunion. You’d had no expectations of coming back here. Certainly not without an exit date firmly scheduled prior. But life is funny that way. You never expect to get divorced when you get married. You never expect to quit what once was your dream job. You never expect to move back to your hometown in some potentially pathetic, you hadn't decided yet, attempt to find yourself. Along with a lot of other lessons you were finally learning, expecting the unexpected was one being driven into your life hard.

So when you wandered the towns Main Street and saw the old record store you hadn't expected, but maybe you should have, the man standing behind the counter to be the boy who helped form most of those happy memories you’d come back home to revisit.

“We close in like 5 minutes. I can check you out if you know what you want but at 9 you’re getting kicked out.” He didn’t look up from the book of numbers he was staring at on the checkout desk.

“Oh shit. I didn’t look at your hours on the door. Sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush out, not even looking at the guy, his hair hiding his face as he leaned on the counter. You’d barely taken in the familiar space before feeling like a burden.

But then you hear your name called to your back as your hand sits on the door handle. That voice. You hadn’t heard your name said like that in so long. Not just from him but in a way that made it sound like someone was genuinely happy to see you.

“Eddie?” It leaves your slightly parted lips before you even verify the owner of the now much deeper, voice. It’s still cracked and popped when you heard it last. A young man with his training wheels freshly off was now grown before you. He looked so different. And just like the town… somehow exactly the same.

“Holy shit it is you!” his face lit up, it was a wonderful sight. Eddie was always a big emoter, being absolute shit at hiding how he felt on his face. And right now he was happy to see you. Your face was a bit more hesitant, only for the heavy smack of memories you were drowning in as you shared a silent smile, eyes very boldly meeting one another's.

“It’s me.” you held out your hands in a jazzy presentation of yourself that made him laugh.

“What are you doing here? Oh shit, is everyone okay?” His face went from curious to concerned in a flash.

“Oh yeah, the family’s fine.” you finally stepped forward and dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand. “I moved back.” he could see the way your jaw tensed when you said it. Last he’d heard you were married and working some white-collar job and doing just fine. He certainly hadn’t expected you to walk into his shop on a random Tuesday. He wanted to ask a hundred questions that had all poured into his brain but withheld.

“How long have you been back?” he got away with looking at your hands, checking for a wedding band as they ran through your hair nervously. There wasn’t one. That gave him plenty of answers to sate his intrusive tendencies. Little did he know you’d already looked at his ring finger to see the same.

“A few weeks. Not long. Just got settled into the apartment on 3rd street. Pure luck it opened up when I was looking.”

“An apartment?” he had a playful smile as he quirked his brow. “Would’ve pinned you for a house sorta girl.”

“Needed a change.” you wrinkled your nose, vague answers meant you weren’t ready to talk about it. Which he understood.

“I heard they re-did those recently.”

“Yeah, it’s way nicer than I expected. Overlooks the park which is very cute. And is a hell of a lot cheaper than my mortgage was.” a genuine smile graced your face, and the sense of relief wasn’t missed by him in your voice.

“Tell me about it.” he groaned and slapped the open book in front of him.

“Oh, doing the books?” you leaned forward curiously, intimately familiar with the layout of the paper before him. “Wait. Why are you doing the accounting?” you didn’t hide the confusion on your face as you looked back up at a smirking Eddie. His hair was the same save for the lack of bangs, a change with the times. He had a past 5 o clock shadow and light circles under his eyes. You knew you also had signs of wear and age on your face.

“Because I own the place?” he tilted his head to the side and chuckled. “You don’t have to look SO surprised.” he then broke into a laugh.

“Sorry! I just. Wow.” you shook your head.

“Give me a little credit. I’ve grown up since you last knew me.” a playful defensiveness was apparent in his shaking curls as he challenged your slack jaw at the news.

“I’m sure you have. Sorry. I didn’t mean to -”

“Shut up. I’m fucking with you.” the deepness of his voice bloomed out of a laughing chest. “I do own it but I agree I didn’t scream responsible business owner at 18.” he grinned. “I started working here shortly after you left and ten years later Mr. Orison wanted to retire and well…” he motioned to the room then let his arms slap to his sides.

“Good for you. Seriously. Running a business is fucking hard. People don’t realize it.”

“Yeah neither did I when I bought it.” he bent over and ran his hand through his hair, elbows to the countertop.

“I used to crunch numbers all day for a living so I get it. I’ll leave you to it. It’s past 9 anyway, I think you’re supposed to kick me out.” you smiled brightly, and you felt the strain in your cheeks. It’d been a long, long time since you’d smiled so big.

“You get to be an exception to the rule. You can wander around if you want. I don’t care.”

“No, no. I know you need to focus. I’ll get out of your hair.” you take a few steps back. “I could come back when you aren’t busy?” you offered, a raise of one shoulder to your chin.

“Yeah! Yes.” he cleared his throat and nodded enthusiastically, spooling out some blank receipt paper. “Since you’re back-back we should catch up.” he dabbed the pen to his tongue to get it to work, and a few shakes and grunts later he was writing his number down. “And I don’t mean in that fake reunion - oh my god let’s get coffee sometime kinda way.” he looked up, hang dancing over his papers as a fuller face than you recalled smiled at you.

“Glad we’re on the same page. I need some friends. Not gonna lie.” you chuckle nervously and give a purposely strained smile.

“Lucky for you, we are built-in friends.” he holds out the paper as you step back toward him.

“Good,” you say softly, ripping part of the paper and writing down your own information. “You’re busier than me right now so feel free to call me whenever and we can go not get coffee.” you joke and he accepts it heartily.

“You drink?”

“Not as well as I used to.” you laugh.

“That’sthefuckintruth.” he grumbled. “I’ll hit you up and we’ll go to the old Hideout. We’ll be two old schmo’s reminiscing just like the people we used to make fun of.”

“Sounds perfect.” the relief of something casual and easy flooded you. There was no pretentious pretext, no formalwear to buy, or people to schmooze. Beers, a dive bar, and an old friend sounded close to heaven after the way you’d spent the last decade. “See ya soon.” you wiggle your fingers in a wave before Eddie watches you walk down the street and out of sight, locking the door behind you.

“Well, shit.” he didn’t have to hide his smile now, chuckling to himself, rubbing his face as he walked back to the counter. “She’s back.” he talked to himself, no one else was around, and being alone was a rarity for him these days. He gathered up his books and looked at the mirror in the hall on the way to the back office. “And single,” he said to his reflection before looking over it and frowning at the sight. He looked fucking tired. In all fairness he was. “And you’re a struggling single dad with two jobs.” he sighed and looked away from the mirror. A reality check he needed was cashed to himself. He wasn’t exactly relationship material at the moment with barely any time for himself let alone dating someone. You were used to money and the city and some fancy-pants professor was your ex-husband. What’s a small-town mechanic with a sob story, a kid, and a treading water business going to offer you? He groaned, his annoyance clear on his face as he plopped into the old creaky leather chair. Little did he know, that craving a slice of real life, something raw and passionate, full of imperfections was exactly why you’d left your husband and old life behind. He had more to offer than old romantic nostalgia. He just didn’t know it yet.

Eddie arrived at the trailer he was pleased to call home. A double wide with a room for him and his son and for Wayne when he wanted to stay over. He didn’t live far from his uncle and he didn’t want to be away from him, truth be told. He’d landscaped the place, out in the field away from the clusters of other trailers, a little fence, and a bricked-in foundation. He was proud of what he’d been able to create for his little family.

Eddie was happy to admit now that the calling from his kid as soon as he noticed him walking into the door made every bit of worry fade away for a few minutes.

“Daddy!” a very active toddler ran and stumbled toward him, falling and ignoring the failure to get swept up in his dad's arms.

“Hey little man!” he tossed him into the air, a favorite pastime of his since he was tiny. “I see we had spaghetti for dinner.” Eddie laughed, grabbing a noddle from his shirt and eating it noisily to make him laugh.

“He’s as stubborn as you.” Wayne chuckled, a grunt as he raised from the couch. “Refused anything else. Remember when you’d only eat pickles and ranch with butter noodles for dinner for a while?”

“It’s still good.” Eddie grinned, shifting the kid to his hip.

“Your taste has always been questionable.” Wayne teased. It was always with love.

“It’s a point of pride.” Eddie smiled and shoved a fork into the pot of noodles left on the stove.

“We were about to get settled for bed. Someone had a long nap today and messed up his routine.”

“Did not!” a very adamant and incorrect claim came from the small version of Eddie.

“Terrible two’s.” Wayne glared and wagged his finger as he hunched toward the kid before grabbing his side to tickle him and make him scream.

“How about we go play sea monster?” Eddie suggested, the kid's eyes lighting up.

“YEAH!” his little fists clenched.

“You handle the bath I’ll clean up.” Wayne pats his adopted son’s arm.

Eddie was elbow-deep in bubbles, soap in his mouth, and water in his eyes as his boy thrashed in the water. A rouge rubber dinosaur bonked Eddie in the head.

“Asteroid!” he shouted, slapping Eddie with a wet ball in the face before slapping his hands into the water full of floating dinosaurs.

“I thought we were playing sea monsters?” Eddie asked, a washcloth rubbing behind his son's ears.

“Monster rock! Gahhh!” the little gremlin growled and slapped the ball down again.

“Ya know what? Fair.” Eddie nodded, a resigned purse of his lips as he scrubbed away at his slippery like an eel, arms. “You remember this one’s name?” he picked up a plastic dinosaur.

“Robert!” Eddie bent his head down and laughed, soaping the boy's hair into a little mohawk.

“He’s called a T Rex. Remember their science names?”

“Robert! Ahhh!” he slapped the toy out of Edie’s hand as he kept laughing. He was a bit biased but he thought his kid could be the funniest person to ever exist. He was aware that him having his DNA did make the chances of them having a similar sense of humor high but… he could make Eddie laugh harder than anyone else.

“So we’re choosing chaos over learning tonight.” Eddie nodded, accepting that his attempts to be a good dad who taught his kid things at every available opportunity were going to fall onto bubble covered ears tonight.

“Chay ossssss” he made a grumpy face, doing his attempts at a metal scream, having heard the word growled many times in Eddie’s music choices.

“Oh, it’s gonna be that kinda night, huh?” Eddie perked up. “You wanna sing Metallica?” He asked, soaked hands slapping out a beat on the side of the tub.

“BUM BUM BUM!” he banged his little head, mimicking his father.

“Sanitarium!” Eddie had never held back with his music and his little man. He seemed to love it.

“Leave me be!” he clapped.

“Sanitarium!”

“LEAVE ME ‘LONE!” his little chin jutted up as he declared it to the ceiling with the rage only a small child could deliver.

Sure Eddie’s parenting wasn’t exactly orthodox. But then again who in their right mind would’ve expected it to be?

After a very messy round of monsters in the tub, rubber toys are everywhere, and towels and washcloths are strewn and slapped to the plastic walls of the shower tub. Bubbles floated and faded, clumps in Eddie’s hair. He wrangled his son into his pajamas, reading him to sleep with Lord of the Rings, doing the voices, and living his DM memories in his performance. Soon he was sound asleep, worn out and content. Eddie dimmed the light, ruffling the dark soft curls that resembled his own before a kiss on his baby lotion-smelling cheek.

He came into the kitchen with a loud yawn, stretching before hitting the fridge for a beer.

“He had a good day today.” Wayne nodded, sitting at the kitchen table.

“Good.” Eddie sighed with a sip.

“How about my other baby? What day did he have?” Wayne smirked, sipping his mug of coffee.

“You’ll never guess who’s back in town.” Eddie shoved a fork full of leftover spaghetti in his mouth that Wayne had set out for him.

“Rude to leave me hangin’.”

“Remember that girl I used to run around with back in high school?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Seriously? You didn’t need any other information?” Eddie laughed, mouth full of spaghetti.

“No offense son, but you weren’t exactly surrounded by girls back then.”

“Harsh.” Eddie grinned. “But true.” he nodded. “She’s back in town.” he muffled out in bites.

“Her folks okay? I always liked ‘em I’d hate to hear something bad happened to ‘em.”

“That’s what I asked her.” Eddie smiled, being made more aware of Wayne’s influence on him every day since his son was born. “She said her family’s fine.”

“Oh, you talked to her?” Wayne said impressed.

“Walked right into the shop.” Eddie held out a hand in a surprised shrug.

“She married who? A teacher?”

“Professor of English.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “But!” Eddie’s eyes lit up in a way Wayne hadn’t seen in a long while. “She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

“So you looked, huh?”

“I’m no homewrecker.” Wayne’s shoulder shook with a laugh at Eddie’s defensiveness.

“Since when?” he smirked.

“She didn’t say anything. Just said she moved back. But we swapped numbers and she wants to catch up.”

“Well, that couldn’t have gone any better for you could it?” Wayne said supportively. He’d always liked you. You were a bit wild, sure, but so was Edddie and he knew he was still a good kid.

“I mean it could have.” Eddie gave a little snicker and his cheeks turned a bit pink as Wayne snorted and threw a napkin at him.

“What’d she think of you? Business owner, two jobs, a kid. Big difference from when she knew you last.”

“She was surprised by the business. But that’s all I shared.”

“Ed…” Wayne chastised him.

“I know. I’ll tell her, obviously, I just didn’t wanna do that thing I do where I start talking and don’t stop. And next thing I know I’ve told her too much and she’s backing away.”

“Did she have any kids?”

“Don’t know. She didn’t say anything either. I don’t remember hearing that she did.” Eddie shrugged, shoveling the rest of the food into his mouth, bowl tilted up.

“Odd for a woman her age to not have a kid.” Wayne’s brow creased.

“C’mon Wayne. You’re more progressive than that.” Eddie grumbled.

“You know I’m all for people making their own choices, but she was married for a long time. Call me curious.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I talk to her.”

“When’s that gonna be?”

“When can you babysit again?” He smirked.

You were surprised but pleasantly that it took Eddie only two days to call you. You suppose he wasn’t lying about wanting to be friends again. Why wouldn’t he? You were thick as thieves in your teens. You got on like a house fire when you were together. You were hoping that you hadn’t changed so much that he’d find you boring now. You were still in the midst of figuring out who you actually were and how much beige you had unwillingly absorbed from your previous life path. Eddie was still spunky and lively with his alternative clothes and hair, free flow of swears as sentence enhancers without care behind it, and a heart that seemed to still be pinned to his sleeve. You envied that. You hoped it rubbed off on you.

You wore an outfit your ex-husband would hate out to the bar that evening. You’d been making a habit of doing things he hated. It was your new favorite pastime.

So it meant that much more when Edie greeted you with his full attention, pulling out a chair and giving you a charming smile that people took classes to learn how to do in the city. While he was naturally gifted and wholesome and genuine.

“Hopefully it’s okay for me to say this. If not- feel free to twist my ear- but you look really pretty tonight.” It was the wholesome version of what he was thinking. The maxi skirt was made out of some flimsy material that his fingertips itched to touch. It had some Asian-inspired dragons on the bottom, and a tank top matching the color of the trim of the skirt was paired with it. Some chunky sandals that made you almost as tall as him were hidden under the skirt. Little maroon-painted toes peeped out as you sat. He noticed they match your nails and lipstick. You hadn’t been so put together when you were younger. Jeans, the same beat-up sneakers, and a t-shirt were the rotation of choice. You never presented as particularly feminine, not like this anyway. He thought you looked great, but it made him wonder what else had changed.

“Thanks. I really liked this outfit.” Your smile was soft and sweet as you accepted his chivalry of pushing your chair in.

“The dragons are badass.” He gave an approving nod as he sat across from you.

“They’re really trendy right now.”

“Trendy?” He smirked.

“There’s currently an uptick of Asian-inspired ornamental detail right in teen fashion design. related to the rise in popularity of Japanese influence in youth counter-culture.” Eddie blinked a bit befuddled at the sentence that came out of your mouth. You could see it in his very readable face. You’d lost him. You wore the same look around your ex’s colleagues as they discussed the literature of old white men like it was written by God. you’d always been lost and you hated that you’d just done the same to Eddie. “Sorry.” You wrinkle your nose, frowning and Eddie leans in to give you an apologetic look. “We’re gonna be friends right?” Not the smoothest starting point but it’s what came out.

“Uhm. Yeah? I hoped so.” His eyes squinted, uncertain.

“Then I’ll start with being as transparent as possible with you.” You splayed your hands out on the tabletop. “I’m used to talking to people that demand that you constantly impress them with intelligence. It’s awful and I fucking hated it.” Eddie cracked a smile as he watched your face start to give over to emotion. “It’s a habit to say things in a way that’s unnecessary and academic sounding instead of talking like a normal person. I’m trying to break the habit. So sorry if I sound like I have my head up my ass when I talk sometimes.” Eddie was still for a moment, meeting your tired eyes before laughing.

“You did sound very smart.” He consoled you.

“Thank you. I hate sounding elitist. you don’t need to know how to cite references to be smart.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” He gave you a cheesy grin.

“Perfect. You’re exactly who I wanna talk to then.” You reached out to touch his hand before withdrawing it. “I should’ve said yes, dragons are badass. Having them on a skirt makes me feel cool.” You chuckled and tucked your hair behind your ear nervously.

“You still into that stuff? Fantasy? Dragons and Knights and Damsels?”

“I’ve always liked the aesthetic. I haven’t read much since I left here.”

“That’s a shame. You used to read all the time. I still do.”

“I started to hate it after I married someone who did nothing but read. And base their entire existence on it. Sucks all the fun out of it. He was very good at doing that with anything.”

“So… ex… husband then?” He boldly asked, motioning a finger to your naked ring finger.

“Very much ex. Excommunicated I wish.” You smiled. “Exterminated. Expelled. Ex…plodded.” You laughed.

“That what brought you back here?”

“Is it that obvious? I’m just some cliche of a woman now. Coming back home to find herself after leaving a bad man.” You put the back of your hand to your forehead playfully.

“Nothing wrong with leaving a bad relationship.”

“Thanks.” You say quietly. “So now you know I left my old life and moved back here. What’s your story?”

“I’ve been up to plenty.” He turned to laugh nervously. “You started with the biggest thing so-“ he grunted and shifted to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. “Here’s my biggest thing.” He pulled out a photo and handed it to you. It was a photo of Eddie holding a baby. “That’s my little Teddy bear.” He smiled proudly. Your hand shot out to grab his forearm.

“Ohmygod… you have a baby??” Your face lit up and relief washed over him in a chill. “Look at him! Babies usually look like little potatoes but he’s so fucking cute Eddie.” You whined, holding the photo in both hands as if you were cradling it.

“I know I’m biased but I think he’s the cutest baby to ever exist.” he took great pleasure in the fact that Teddy was part him. His sweet dimpled smile made that obvious.

“He could be. A front-runner for sure. He looks like he fell right out of your ass.” You laughed and touched the photo lightly. “I bet mom hates that, huh? All that work and he comes out looking just like you.”

You saw his demeanor shift, the brightness fading ever so slightly. You’d said something wrong.

“She’s not really uh-around.” His eyes wandered the tabletop for a moment.

“Oh sorry. My big mouth.” You wince and hand him back the photo.

“No, no. It’s just… I don’t ever talk about it since it’s a small town and everyone knows already. It’s a real fuckin buzzkill but it’s just facts and you shared with me so I’ll share with you.”

“You don’t have to if-“

“No, it’s fine. Me and Teddy are doing great now. She just uh- she had a heart defect that no one knew about and having Teddy well… it gave out on her.”

“Holy shit.” You let slip out on accident. “Sorry I don’t mean to be so crude about it I’m just surprised. I mean that’s… the worst.”

“We were together but not like-“ his nose twitched and he got the feeling he was about to overshare.

“I’ll answer any question you have if you want. But you don’t have to share with me unless you want to.” It was a heartfelt offer he appreciated.

“I do. We wanted to catch up so this is getting you up to speed.” He shrugged. “It’s been years ago now. Teddy wasn’t planned, we weren’t together when she got pregnant. But she wanted a baby and you know me, I wasn’t going to not be there for the kid after the upbringing I had so I did the right thing and proposed but she didn’t want to get married until after the baby but… yeah. So it could be a lot worse I guess? Is that bad to say? Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve talked about it. “He shook his head and laughed awkwardly. “Teddy’s none the wiser. I named him Theodore because that’s what she wanted to name him. So Theodore is his middle name and I went with what I wanted, which was Ronald. Well, I wanted Ronnie but Wayne wouldn’t have me naming the kid a nickname. So his official name is Ronald Theodore Munson. But Teddy ended up being what stuck. He’s an affectionate little guy. Also a lot of hair like his parents.” he added with a sad chuckle.”He’ll probably get tired of it when he grows up and go by Ronnie, I figure.” You were gazing at him with a soft smile, seeing him talk about his kid.

“Eddie and Teddy. It’s too cute.” You sighed out, a short-lived giggle making Eddie’s cheeks flush for some reason. “Please tell me you named him Ronnie after THE Ronnie James Dio.”

“Yeah.” He admitted and looked away before you burst out laughing and reaching out again for his arm. He really liked that you touched him so much. It made him feel a weird hopefulness that didn’t exactly have a target goal he was willing to admit yet.

“God that’s perfect. I love that. No sarcasm. It’s fantastic. A+ name choice. Highly approve.” You gave him a small clap. “I think you should name your kids something fun and interesting. I love that you did that.”

“You have any kids?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “I never tried. Never wanted to with Chris.”

“So that’s the wet blankets name.” He smirked.

“Yes, it is. And a perfect description.” You commended him. “He’d be a terrible dad. I didn’t want a kid that looked like or acted like him.”

“If you don’t mind me asking. If you hated this guy so much why’d you marry him in the first place?” You gave him an out-of-place smile, grateful for real questions.

“Honestly? He was safe.” You shrug and sigh. “He had a plan and was smart and good with money. Well connected, good family, all that horse shit.” Your eyes shot to Eddie as he let out a chuckle. “I partied my first year and almost flunked out, realized I had to actually try to do well in college. I was having your standard identity crisis and met him. He seemed like he had his shit together. So I hitched myself to that wagon and rode it all the way to a degree and a life I didn’t really want.”

“So that’s why you never came back.”

“Yeah. I was being indoctrinated by WASP’s.” You grumbled. “Made me hate this place and look down on it. Which isn’t right at all. This place is more real than anything they have in their gated communities.”

“So money really can’t buy you happiness?” He lightened the conversation.

“Turns out it’s true. But man it helps.” You laughed. “I was able to deny how unhappy I was for years because of money. But it only lasted so long.”

“What made you finally leave?”

“It wasn’t really one thing that did it. It’s whatever the last straw happened to be. And… it’s stupid.” You looked down and huffed out a laugh.

“It’s you, I know it’s not stupid.” The earnestness in his words made you look away for a moment before a nervous smile appeared.

“He made fun of a book I bought.” you admitted with a monotone delivery.

“Not normally grounds for divorce but a dick move.” A playful judgment was in his nod as he side eyed you. “So he made fun of it but what was the actual reason?”

“You’re still perceptive.” You give him the same smirk.

“A blessing and a curse.” He put a hand to his chest.

“It was one of those cheesy romance novels. A bodice ripper. The guy with the long hair in the wind on the cover and his shirts half open and the woman has fainted in his arms and they’re on a mountain top or some shit.” Eddie laughed and nodded. “I wanted something to enjoy. Have a good time reading it and maybe get a little thrill or something in the meantime. And so we’re in bed and he’s got his notebook and whatever he’s reading and he notices I have a book, which was different and he asks me what it is and I tell him and he does this little face I hate where he’s pretending to be interested like he’s in a fucking infomercial all ‘hmmm interesting yes’” You rub your chin and nod exaggeratedly and it makes Eddie laugh. “Who’s the author? He asked, I tell him. What else have they written? I don’t know. ‘You picked up a random book and bought it?’ Yeah, it looked fun. And he LAUGHS. And this man doesn’t laugh. He asks if any of their work would’ve had articles written about it by his peers and I just snapped.”

“He was doing that shit on purpose.” Eddie poked a finger at the worn tabletop.

“Thank you!” You slapped the table.“He’s got all these stupid questions and I just wanted to hit him over the head with the book. The next morning I went to my lawyer.”

“You work fast.” Eddie sputtered out, surprised.

“I realized that was going to be every interaction for the rest of my life with him when I showed interest in something that wasn’t up to his standard. And I fucking had it. I was done.”

“Good for you.” He says back and raised a hand to the bartender. “I’m buying you a drink on behalf of real readers everywhere.”

“Thanks.” You smile and settle into your seat, calming yourself back down. The wound was still very fresh.

“The fact that you said you went to your lawyer has thrown me for a fuckin loop though.” He grinned. “Never thought I’d hear something like that coming from you. Unless it was for a DUI or something.” He teased.

“When you make money you realize the work that goes into keeping it and turning it into more money and that means lawyers and banks and reps and accountants and specialists and brokers and-“ you groan.

“What the hell kind of work did you do?”

“White collar business. Numbers. Money.” You nod. “The only good thing that came from that relationship was I learned how rich people use their money and I protected myself. Everything was kept separate and since he only had a part-time professor gig since he was on a never-ending quest for more degrees his folks paid some of the bills.”

“Oh god, a trust fund baby? Really?” He cringed. “You knew better than that.”

“I know I know.” You roll your eyes. “But you also understand how scary the world is when you don’t have money. And just a taste was enough to make me sell out. I’m not proud of it. But I’m proud of where I am now.” You sat up straighter. “In a small studio apartment in my hometown. Unemployed, single, and totally fucking winging it.”

Two long necks appear at the table and he raises a toast.

“Here’s to totally fucking winging it.” You happily clinked your bottles together. “Ever since Teddy came earth side and my tentative plans went all to hell with becoming a dad I feel like totally winging it is an understatement.” He sighs. “I worked at the record store forever then suddenly I owned it. I’ve got a loan and very little business knowledge and a new baby and I’m a future spouse short on support and income. And now I’m working days at the body shop in town and holding my breath.”

“I’m not gonna lie that’s a lot.” you gave him a sympathetic pout. “For anyone. Do you need like- help or anything? I mean I did help people run businesses in a past life.”

“Honey, you do not deserve to be dragged into my bullshit circus of a life.” the way he spoke reminded you so much of Wayne.

“Maybe I wanna be?” You shrugged and let the offer hang in the air. “I mean I don’t have a job, you’d be doing me a favor. I can look over your stuff and give you some advice and if you like it you can put me on retainer.”

“I don’t think I could afford you.” He smirked at the underlying double meaning to which your snorted at.

“Friends and family discount.” You nodded. “Or I can just… I don’t know… you need someone to watch Teddy?”

“You’d do that?” He seemed genuinely surprised and it shocked you.

“Yeah. Childcare is ridiculously expensive. I could cut a day or two off a week for you. Use him for ransom so you have to hang with me again?”

His face lit up and he wiped his smiling mouth with the back of his hand after taking another drink.

“Or just ask like a normal person.” He snorted.

“Sounds boring.” You muttered before taking a sip and sending him into another laugh.

“You sure you wanna get mixed up with me? You just got back, you’re dealing with your own stuff I don’t wanna add to it.” He offered you a chance to withdraw. You weren’t interested.

“I’ll come clean, Eddie.” You began and took a deep breath after a deeper swig of beer. “Coming back here, I had a few hopes. And being able to reconnect with you was one of those to be perfectly honest. It’s this new thing I’m trying.” He gave you a crooked smile, a dimple deepening in his cheek that lured your gaze to it. “And the fact that you’re willing and want anything to do with me after I left is more than I could hope for. I came back here to be around real people with real lives. I would love to help you with your business too. I’ll do it for free, I don’t give a shit. Because you’re a real person with consequences for your actions. Not some numbered entity of an LLC bought off a drunk golf game bet.” You took a deep breath and saw his face warm and open, shoulders a little slouched. “So short version- yes. I want to be involved in your bullshit.“

“Good.” A simple answer with a complicated proposition. “I want to be involved with your bullshit too.”

You’d been to six different businesses today. Your feet were tired, having not been accustomed to being in heels all day for months. Your suit felt stiff despite how much you knew the fabric cost. You’d found a few leads but mostly the role of bookkeeper was locked down by someone who should’ve already retired. Change was vital to business survival and these people didn’t seem to care if their taxes had been done the same way for the last 20 years. Small towns, man.

A whistle breaks your grumpy demeanor you weren’t trying to hide anymore since exiting the back office of the noisy Chuck E. Cheese. You blinked, head snapping to the sound of sucking teeth before seeing the playful lit up face of Eddie as the source.

“Sorry sugar, thought you were someone else. You’re clearly a business lady, my mistake.” he wheezed and coughed with his laugh, splayed out in a red vinyl chair among the scattered groupings of parents and kids.

“Fuck off.” you laughed, hissing it at him quietly to not become the witch in a witch hunt the barking of the word fuck in a place like Chuck E. Cheese would surely start. He pulls out the empty chair next to him and slaps the cushion.

“Take a load off fancy business pants.” he grinned deep, smile lines siking farther into his face than they used to. “Your feet have got to be killing you in those shoes. Christ, woman. What are you wearing those torture devices for?”

“Old habit.” you groan, wrinkling your nose as you plop down, crossing your leg over your knee toward him.

“Why are you in a kid’s pizza place in a suit?”

“Been going around cold calling about work today.”

“Old school.” he nodded in approval. “Any luck?”

“Some bites. Nothing concrete. Franchises like this have to get everything approved by corporate before they can even move around where the napkin holders are let alone hire someone.”

“Sounds like a ring of hell to me.” he muttered, leaning in toward you, his face facing the play area.

“Are you here with Teddy or out hunting for single moms?” you snort.

“I can do both.” he laughed, your chests moving the jabs at each other. “I was actually out hoping to bag a lady who can make me look even more like a deadbeat dad than I already do by simply sitting next to me.” he looked you up and down to sell the joke before you understood he was talking about you. “You look like you’re here to supervise a custody visit, man. What is this?” he tugged at the collar of your suit jacket.

“It’s call professionalism.” you sat up and wobbled your head. “But it is overkill in Hawkins.” you sighed and took off the suit jacket, hanging it and your purse on the back of the chair. “I look like I gather “protection” money.” you go ahead and roast yourself. “Do I look less like a narc?” you ask, fluffing your hair and in a button-up shirt with no stuffy jacket with a single button undone. “That better?” you slouched back into the chair, hands crossed on your stomach.

“Depends on the connotations of what you’re applying the word better to.” He didn’t look at you when he said it but the smirk was audible in his voice. Your head is noticeably tilted as you lean in toward him, shifting in the seat.

“You’re gonna give me war flashbacks to fundraising dinners talking like that.” you chuckled, looking out to the smattering of kids, seeing if you could pick out which was his. There wasn’t one screaming or chewing through the ropes so that theory was out. “Although they weren’t nearly as flirty as you, you scamp.” you snorted and watch his grin beam across his stubbled face.

“My main outlet for flirting is with women at the shop,” he admitted, turning his head back toward you. “And don’t get me wrong, it’s fun. A bit awkward with how heavy they’re willing to lay it on, man. You’d be shocked at the people that have offered to pay in other ways.” he wiggled his brows.

“You get rid of me and suddenly you’re swimming in p-” you stop yourself and look around with wide eyes, remembering where you are as Eddie cackles loudly and slaps your leg. “I’m not used to being around family-friendly environments.” you purposely wince and watch his laugh take over his entire demeanor. People turned to look at him but he still didn’t care. It was comforting to know that hadn’t changed.

“I’m no pro at it myself. Don’t worry. When we’re not in public you won’t have to hold your tongue so much. The first time Teddy swore I almost hyperventilated I laughed so hard.”

“Speaking of, where is he? Can I meet him?” Eddie turned to find your eyes bright, brows high and hopeful. “Or maybe not. Is that too soon? I should ask permission first, right? I don’t know how kids work, sorry.” Again, that now deep, gravelly laugh gritted out, the years of cigarettes still in his throat as he pat and rubbed your shoulder.

“You remind me of me when I first got him home. What do I do with this thing?” he mimicked fear and holding a baby awkwardly. “He needs to take a break and get a drink anyway.” he sat up, cracking his back and groaning. “Teddy Monster?” He shouted hands clasped to his mouth, startling the other restaurantgoers.

A small screechy roar is heard, a section of ball pit busting up into the air and a curly mop-haired little cherub-faced cutie pie flopped over the barrier with a cackle much like his dad’s. He rolled out onto the foam playmat-covered floor and stumbled a bit before finding his footing and booking it toward Eddie who was running at him full speed, hunched over, hands clawed both growling at each other. He yanked him up as he lept at him fearlessly, tossing him in the air, before pretending to eat his stomach, holding him sideways, raspberrying his tummy before so easily tossing him into one arm and plopping him down on his knee at the table.

You took in the funniest little gasp of air when you realized you hadn’t breathed the entire time you’d watched him. Gulping and regaining your senses, shocked at yourself. Your eyes dilated at the sight of Eddie with his kid. Oh god, your inner voice groaned. Was the biological clock thing actually real? Was this what that was? Did you just ovulate at the sight of your high school crush simply playing with his kid? Should you be ashamed? Because you sure didn’t feel ashamed.

“Get a drink, bud.” Eddie brought the plastic cup to Teddys grabbing hands. “You having fun?” he kissed his impossibly soft curls, slightly damp from sweat.

“Mnfg- yuh- mmffpptt” he spluttered trying to answer and gulp at the same time, he gained a chuckle from you and both the dark-eyed boys turned to look at you in unison.

“Hi!” he said with a wet face and a smile that looked so much like his father's it made your chest hurt.

“This is Daddy’s friend.” Eddie put his hand on your shoulder as he introduced you.

“Hi Miss.” he nodded and waved with one hand, the other still grasping the cup Eddie was balancing for him.

“He calls all the ladies at the daycare Miss.” Eddie explained.

“So polite.” You couldn’t help how you cooed at him. Eddie noticed. “I’m excited to meet you Teddy. Maybe me and you can be friends like me and your daddy are?” With wide eyes, he nodded in agreement.

“He’s super friendly. Never met a stranger. Didn’t get it from me.”

“Dad.” He gasped, raising his t-shirt to wipe his face. A habit he surely picked up from Eddie. “Can she play?”

“Ask her.” He chuckled, smoothing down his waves.

“Wanna play?” He perked up, leaning to put his hands on your knee.

“I absolutely do!” You couldn’t figure out how Eddie ever said no to that face. You reached down to slip off your shoes and a smile Eddie purposely held back on started to grow. “You like the ball pit? It’s my favorite.”

“Me too!” He clapped his hand together and started wriggling out of Eddie’s hold. You pulled your hair back again and gave Eddie a nod. “I’m gonna hurt myself so don’t make fun of me.” You said quietly before standing.

“I’d never.” He put his hand to his chest defensively.

“Come ON!” Teddy’s squatted form growls like a professional metal frontman as he stood waiting for you to catch up.

Eddie sat back, leg bent over his other, hands laced together to fit behind his head. He watched you get tugged mercilessly by his son into the ball pit in a suit that probably cost so much Teddy couldn’t even fathom a number that high yet. You looked expensive but it was clear you were priceless. You slid headfirst into the concerningly sticky ball pit. You were caught up in the cutest kid you’d ever seems energy and found yourself forgetting you hadn’t played in 20-something years and you’d be feeling the ache tomorrow. Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off you, getting jumped on by Teddy, mashed into the pit, and pelted and screamed at. Other kids joined in, happy an adult was getting on their level. Eddie was known to crawl around the tubes on the play area from time to time but got dirty looks from the other parents. Aware that his own reputation now affected someone besides himself he’d pulled back on the public displays of feral behavior.

As he watched he let himself hope for a moment. Seeing a best-case scenario play out in front of him, his worries that you’d be averted in some way from him because he had a kid we’re floating away, replaced with a shameful optimism it could be a pro instead of a con. He’d be a blatant liar to himself if he tried to say as soon as he saw you walk into his shop the thought of being with you again hasn’t popped into his head. However, sex at 17 is a lot less complicated than sex in your 30s, at least for him. Eddie had big feelings. Especially when It came to you. He had a kid and jobs and a life he’d worked so hard to create that bringing someone in without immense forethought wasn’t something he was willing to do. Sure he’d banged his way through some women in Hawkins to pass the time but he had no intentions of being with you physically unless that also came with the emotions attached. There was no you for him without emotion attached. And watching you with the most important piece of his life, slotting into their dynamic with ease made him let out a deep sigh. With the worry of you approving of being in his life in any capacity in relation to Teddy aside. It let the gates open for many other far deeper running concerns.

You had a good run, laughing as you hopped out of the ball pit and stumbled falling flat on your ass, the kids all pointing and laughing. A very sweet little girl came over to help you up but you were also too busy laughing at the situation. Your cheeks hurt from smiling, your knees ached from crawling along the bottom of the pit after a very rambunctious Teddy who really seemed to like hiding and popping out at you as you stalked him through the large rectangle space. Your muscle was awake with freshly pumped blood, cheeks rosy, and hair a mess, half out of its scrunchie as you tugged the rest out before dramatically collapsing into the chair next to Eddie.

“How?” You panted out, still smiling.

“How what?”

“Two things.” You hold up your fingers and steal a drink from his cup. “One, you must be in incredible shape to play with him like that. That’s crazy. And two-“ you took another drink, finishing it off and meeting Eddie’s brightly amused face. “We need to isolate what gives them that level of energy and sell it.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Eddie chuckled, half muttered and reminding you of his uncle. “A real answer, I don’t keep up.” He admitted willingly. “A true but more boastful answer is work keeps me in better shape than I’d be in otherwise. So that helps. And he slowly got bigger so it’s not like I could throw him around overnight. I’m figuring out what that dad strength people talk about is.”

“Man I’d like some of that if it made my arms look like that.” You blurted out the specific compliment without much thought, happy on endorphins from exercise. You and Eddie were always playful and flirty but you didn’t know where the line was between you now. Or where the line even was within yourself. Did you want to flirt with him? I mean really purposely flirt with bitten lips and side eyes and hushed tones? Because there were levels to this now. It wasn’t heh I like your Metallica shirt let’s make out in the back of your van about it anymore. You kinda wish it was though. Man, you had some good times in the back of his van.

“Oh you bought a ticket I see.” He said with no notion he was joking, rolling up one of his sleeves.

“What?” You blurted out with no flirt to be found in your scrunched face.

“To the gun show?” He asked as if you were stupid as he flexed and you groaned and threw your head back. You were split between two moments in time for a second. You were two obnoxious teens in the diner being loud and completely oblivious that anyone else was around again. He cackled and you slugged his defined arm. More tattoos than you left him with covered the planes that shifted as he ran his hand through his still unruly waves. You felt young again. There were more seen and unseen scars now, permanent tiredness under your eyes, more wrinkles, and less graceful bodies but something felt youthful about being around him. And Teddy now. There was some addictive spark they lit in you. They were the sort of people your ex and his lot would’ve mercilessly insulted and looked down on. And they were exactly the sort of people who seemed to be able to remind you that yes, you could feel happy and have fun. You weren’t broken. There was nothing wrong with you. You simply hadn’t been in the right place with the right people. And now- somehow in Hawkins- a place you’d been so dead set on leaving forever turned out to be that place. Maybe it wasn’t so much the where but the who.

“I can’t even insult you now by saying you tell dad jokes. Any joke you tell is a dad joke now!”

“Oh no she’s figured out my superpower!” He laughed and raised his hands like a cartoon villain.

“Oh no! He’s too powerful!” You coward back in your chair with raised hands as if to block a magic spell cast. He shoved your thigh and almost made you fall out of the chair which only made you laugh harder together. it felt right. You both knew it. It was almost malleable in the air between you as you sighed and wheezed coming down from the interaction. You were so caught up in the moment, cheeks flush and boldly gazing at each other, wondering which questionable thing to say aloud next you didn’t even see Teddy also noticing the chemistry.

“Is she your best friend?” Teddy asked with a tilted head, as calm as you’d ever seen him gazing up at your dad in a similar way that you were. “Cause me ‘n Wes. We do that.” Such an astute observation for the little man. He was observant and clever just like his dad.

“I’m not your best friend?” Eddie pouted and reached down to bring him into his lap.

“Duh.” His little eyes rolled and you held in a snort at the display of attitude. “At daycare dad!”

“Oh of course.” Eddie relented to his miniatures putting him in his place. “You’re my best friend, Ted, you know that.” He kissed his cheek and the kid pushed him away, making you grin.

“More than one bes friend.” He held his dad's stubble-covered cheeks and spoke to him as if explaining something to well… a child.

“You can have more than one best friend?” Eddie raised his brows.

“Yes!” Teddy said annoyed. “Tell dad.” he looked over at you with his demands and you wanted to do whatever he asked.

“You can have more than one best friend.” You gave him the same attitude his son was and he chuckled, his cheeks mushed by tiny hands.

“No!” A slap to his thighs. “Tell dad you’re bes friends!”

“Oh sh-nap.” You muttered in surprise. “You’re my best friend Eddie.” You said with no hesitation. And honestly… it was the truth.

“You’re my best friend too.” You held eye contact for a moment before Teddy moved his dad's face back to face him.

“Good job!” He pat his cheek and you wanted to puke it was so cute. “Love you!” He chirped and planted a kiss on his face.

“Love you too.” You knew I’d you could feel the truth in his words that Teddy could too. “Are you about ready to go?”

“Aw, man.” He slouched and pouted and you swear it sounded just like Eddie used to.

“We don’t have to go yet. Do you need to go potty or want more pizza?”

“No.” He shook his head hard. “Gonna play.” He stuck his little Tongue out in concentration as he dismounted Eddie’s long legs and went back at it.

“Have fun.” Eddie shrugged as he was left without so much as a second glance. “He’s getting so good at talking now it blows my mind. He’s so smart.”

“Of course he is.” Your tone clearly told him to not say what he was about to. “I’ve heard reading to them helps a lot. And I’d bet you do plenty of that.”

“Yeah.” A closed-mouth smile grew from his pride. “Almost every night.”

“He’s yours of course he’s going to be the smartest little gremlin. He looks just like you, he might as well act that way too.”

“He acts like Wayne sometimes and it’s hilarious. Old man stuck in a baby’s body.”

“You act like Wayne sometimes too.”

“Shit, don’t I know it. More now than ever.”

“I’d you’re gonna act like someone he is definitely one of the better choices.” Eddie nodded in agreement. “How is he by the way?”

“Still kickin’. He retired. He’s still in the park, not far from us. He watches him a lot. Too much. He’s taking away all his retirement but he insists it’s better he watch him than leave him at daycare.”

“Grandpa Wayne.” You smiled contently and watched the kids for a moment. “He’s always had papaw energy.”

“He oozes papaw energy.” Eddie chuckled.

“The offers still open to watch your hellspawn by the way.” You smirked. “Give Wayne a much-deserved day off from time to time. I could pick him up if driving him over is out of the way. I’d like to see Wayne actually.”

“He’d love to see you.” Eddie gave you a soft smile.

“Really?”

“He asked me 50 questions when I told him you were back.” He paused and glanced away for a moment. “He always liked you, you know.”

“I always liked him.” You added supportively. “I got you out of your room and out of his hair of course he liked me.”

“We spent plenty of time in my room when he wasn’t home.” It almost came out as a murmur, he didn’t dedicate himself to letting the small reminder of your past put into the current timeline. He’d toed past the line of friendly Flirting and had brought a slice of nostalgia into the conversation that hadn’t been breached yet. It had to happen eventually. You couldn’t act like you hadn’t spent a chunk of your time inside each other in the past. But saying hey remember how we used to fuck had seemed a bit heavy-handed.

He watched you huff out a laugh, almost embarrassed as you looked down and smiled, mouth opening and closing to figure out your response. Weighing what was appropriate and what would be best for two old friends with heavy lore.

“Yeah.” Your lips twitch and you let out a giggle he’s never heard before. You missed how soft his face got when he watched you hide your face. “Yes, we did.” A slight blush filled your cheeks as you smiled.

“Do you remember… back then?” His voice was quiet, soft as if tip towing around it might make it feel less in your chest. He held his arms crossed over his front like it might shield him from the consequences of his question.

“I do.” Your voice also fell to an almost whisper, unlike you both to be subtle or timid with one another. A smile that tightened your lips, almost a purse appeared, eyes still not meeting his that was far too forward for you to meet just yet. “Do you?” you asked with a jutted-out chin. You weren’t really trying to hide the way his stare made you uncomfortable. You were too busy trying to analyze why it was. His soft laugh answered you before he did with his words. Oh yeah. He remembered.

“Oh! Hey!” you heard feet head your way and were startled. Eddie cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, the tension of the moment broken. “What was your last name again? They couldn’t find you in the database?”

“Oh right.” You said to the person you’d spoken with in the office. “Recently divorced. Might not be updated yet.” You explained and handed them two business cards. “Here’s both versions.” Eddie side eyed the worker, unnoticed a bit miffed she’d brought up your ex. Way to totally kill the mood.

“Thanks! You’ll hear from me soon.” They said rather convincingly.

“Let me see one of those.” He asked with a nod and a wiggle of his fingers.

“You want one?” You gave him a kind smile and handed him a lovely embossed rectangle. He smiled softly, crow's feet deepening at the edges of his eyes, just visible past the fluff of waves.

“It’s got your name on it.”

“No shit. It’s a business card.” You whispered and he snorted out a laugh.

“I mean your real name.” He said with conviction. “You changed it fast.”

“Not legally yet but I wanted to separate myself from his name as fast as possible.”

“I like this version better.” He said with a nod, flicking the card. “I’d hire this lady, I wouldn’t hire the other.”

“Does that mean I’m gonna get all up in your books?” You grin and nudge his foot with yours, still bare.

“Do you have to put it that way?” He snorted out a laugh.

“Yes! I get unrestricted access to Eddie Munson.” You pinched his knee and he kicked you in response. “I’ll need bank statements and your monthly, and yearly records as far back as you’ve got them and your tax returns.” He could see the excitement in your eyes.

“I take it back you’re way too into this.” He pushed your chair away with his boot and you scoot it back again with a playful back and forth.

“I’m in my element, man. And I’m dealing with you, not some rich asshole!” You both giggled as you quickly lowered your voice and hunched over from the looks thrown your way.

“We aren’t meeting here next time you’re gonna get me banned from Charles Pizzaria. Fine Italian Dining.” He pinched his fingers together and did a horrifying attempt at an Italian accent.

“God you still suck at that.”

“You suck.” He bit back and kicked your chair. Another flicker of a time jump, both snorting and laughing in his van, high as hell, shoving each other with insults thrown that never had any malicious intention.

“You wish.” Your 17-year-old self came out of the woodwork. You’d said it so many times in response to his poorly thought-out jab. It’s always ended in more shoves, which led to rolling around and wrestling which led to Eddie on top of you which led to a cocky remark which led to… you could guess. Your ears ran hot at the memory. “I guess I shouldn’t say that to someone I’m working for.” You let yourself snort and shake with a laugh.

“Extremely unprofessional.” He tsked.

“You gonna leave me a bad review?”

“Horrible.” he smirked.

“Can I earn a good review or have I ruined my chances?”

“Make me a millionaire and I’ll consider it.”

“I mean I know a guy. Recently divorced. Millionaire family. He would suck Hemmingway’s dick for SURE so I mean you might stand a chance.” you both sputter out a laugh.

“Oh, tell me more.” Eddie crossed his legs and put his hand to his chin.

“He only has three topics of conversation, you know, like a pull-string doll. He’s only had sex in two positions so you know - consistency right? And he does whatever his parents tell him to!”

“Who would leave a catch like that?” Eddie wiped the beginnings of a tear from his eye.

“Some dumb bitch.” you leaned in and whispered, sending you into another shared laugh.

“I don’t know I think she’s really smart. Whoever she is. Especially for leaving him.” his eyes were sincere, but the smile still weighed heavily on the spectrum of giving you shit about marrying such a douche.

“She’s made a handful of good decisions in her life.” you nodded, a more thoughtful smile falling into place. “More as of late. Maybe she’s getting less dumb.” you shrugged.

“I don’t know.” he shared the same subtle shoulder movement. “I think she made a few good decisions in the past.” A lump in your throat grew and you quickly swallowed it down.

“Yeah?” you tucked your hair behind your ear and felt so hopelessly obvious. “Maybe…one… or two.” Your words sunk to nearly a mumble. You looked the same to him in these fleeting moments he got under your skin, in your head. He knew it was selfish to want to hear it from you that you remembered who you two used to be. Especially so soon. But the memories were still so strongly imprinted on him that he had to know if you’d thought of him as often as he’d thought of you over the years.

“That’s a short list. Must’ve been something really important.” he leaned in so subtly, slowly, smoothly. His elbows to his knees, long fingers, still in rings just like he was still 17, laced together. You stuttered like a fool under his gaze. His eyes were even prettier than you’d recalled. Molten chocolate, honey, and caramel. Just as sinfully tempting and potentially bad for you as the sweets. Your lashes felt heavy and obvious as you slowly blinked, licking your lips, finding yourself as short on words now as you ever had been when he directed his attention solely on you.

As children always have, Teddy decides that now is the best time to get his foot caught in a rope net, interrupting the precious moment. A squawk and scream, unsure if it was pain or amusement carried across the brightly colored space.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Eddie muttered as you both bolted toward the little monkey hanging upside down.

The brief scare had triggered his neediness, refusing to be looked at or held by anyone but his dad after he slipped his ankle out of the soft braided thread. Eddie prayed no one cared that Teddy was attached to his front as he drove home. A little snore and blub from time to time as Eddie kept his large hand on the child’s back, rubbing it soothingly as he drove.

“C’mon Teddy Bear.” a name he used when he was feeling particularly soft for the wild little creature he’d helped create. A small grunt of disapproval was released as he was lifted and brought into the dark house. Eddie didn’t bother turning on the overhead light, a lamp would suffice. “You wanna wake up? Get ready for bed? We could do a bubble bath? You want a story?” he offered things to the smushed face with barely open eyes adamantly shaking his head, refusing to lift his head from Eddie’s chest. “You want daddy to hold you and you sleep on me?”

“Yeah.” the first nod of the nap. With a resigned sigh Eddie managed to kick his boots off and get his jeans on the floor, left in unevenly slouched socks, boxers, and a t-shirt. He switched on the radio, a quit afterthought as he took Teddy’s ensemble off piece by piece, having purposely chosen every piece. With a new set of matching jammies, a dinosaur print that he’d nearly had a meltdown over when he saw them in the store. Eddie set his notebook and the book he was currently reading on the nightstand. He sank into the small bed, propping himself up with the pillows, setting an alarm on the clock radio just in case. Teddy still clutched to his chest, already back asleep. A lazy hand pat to the beat of a fading song on his butt, the other with Eddie’s fingers in his mop of curls, mouth, and nose nestled into the nest and taking a deep inhale. His eyes looked out the window, the sky was navy, a calm sky, and a slight sway to his shoulders, not purposely, as he rocked Teddy back and forth.

“And next we have a hit from the year 1984. She just came out with another album but this one from her 1983 release of She’s So Unusual is still one of her biggest hits. This one brings back some great memories for me, maybe it will to other listeners out there tonight. Here’s Cyndi Lauper with, Time and Time.” the typical radio announcer's voice echoed in the small room with the slightly crooked wallpaper Eddie had hung himself. He let out a sigh, not needing to hide it from anyone, the back of his head against the headboard covered in stickers and markers. The year 1984 haunted him for plenty of reasons. The first time he failed senior year. The main one on his mind tonight was that it was the year you’d left Hawkins. You’d said you’d hated the school dance fodder songs as much as he did. Which couldn’t have been true because neither of you actually did. He thought Cyndi Lauper was weird and hot. Much like you were. The song was catchy, heartfelt, and now a nostalgia bomb of memories. You in a second-hand prom dress, dancing with him. You both swore you hated it. Again. Not true. The way you’d looked at each other was proof of that. The way you’d scrapped together enough money for a dress was even more proof. You were just as soft and terrified as he was. A smile crosses his face, feeling a warmth in his chest at the thought of the full-cheeked and big-haired you in your youth. Flashes of smiles, of fights, and long nights running away from your lives together. The memories had kept him company often through the years. He’d thought about you a lot. Wondering if you were okay. If you’d felt the same way he had. He’d go back and kick his own ass for not telling you how he felt before you left if he could. But those thoughts, that anger was pointless now. Learning to live with the choices you make when you didn’t know any better was something Eddie had to quickly learn to accept. His smile deepened at the prospect of knowing you now. Of getting that second chance of closure. It was a messy can of worms to want to open. Sometimes memories were viewed with rose-colored glasses and weren’t as they truly were at the time. But bless Eddie’s soft heart he couldn’t help himself. He’d never been one for making smart decisions.

PART 2

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