#Seriously it's been over a year and a half and no copies

[pedgito]

𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✎ 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: eddie doesn’t have his life together any better than the next person, but for his daughter, he fakes it well. all he really needed was balance, but he wasn’t sure that even existed—not until you.

cw: 18+ (for safety), mechanic!eddie, reader and eddie are the same age (29/30ish), girl dad!eddie, mentions of loss/death, mentions of miscarriage/stillborn (briefly), more than your typical sass from a small child, reader is great with kids (obviously), mostly just a bunch of meet-cutes and fortunate circumstances that help push eddie toward reader, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 11k — part two

Eddie never imagined he would in this position, not in a million fuckin’ years. While he would trade it for the world, days like these made his skin crawl, the anxiety creeped in, all the worst feelings you could feel as a person—and more specifically, a parent.

She’s the spitting image of him, curly hair and big doe eyes that she could sick on anyone to get exactly what she wanted. It was a proven fact that had worked on Eddie countless times. She’s got his habitual nose scrunch, always making a face when she’s upset or mad, arms crossed over her chest as she sits and pouts. There couldn’t have been more of a carbon copy than her and Eddie didn’t know how to handle it half the time. 

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, plopping his daughter onto the counter, “Shoes,” He taps her light up sneakers, “Check.” He scans her over once, all clothes accounted for, matching socks, a small jumper to keep her warm during class, “Hair—“ He takes a moment, examining the sloppy attempt at pigtails, “it’s gonna have to work.”

“Dad,” Her voice drags, soft and melodic as she stares up at him in annoyance, “breakfast?”

“Shit—right,” Eddie facepalms in frustration, turning to rummage through the fruit bowl on his counter, picking out a semi-ripe banana and offering it to the girl, “that’ll do.”

“Language,” She sings, using her brute strength to rip open the peel, a small grunt escaping her, “—you owe a dollar to the jar.”

It still amazes him how well-spoken she is for her age, five nearing six and still able to keep up with him in conversation and sometimes even leaving him speechless, her comments just as fiery as his own. She did a good job keeping him in check, grounded, and never taking himself too seriously.

“Ri,” He begs, “you’re cleaning me out.”

“You know the rules, dad.” She smiles, taking a ferocious bite of her banana, speaking with a full mouth, “pay up, please.”

Eddie huffs begrudgingly, swiping his wallet from his back pocket and plucking out a single collar, slipping it into the jar on the shelf near their front door, the thing was bursting at the seams almost.

“Okay so,” Eddie turns back toward her, “what did we talk about?”

“Manners—please and thank you,” She says, counting her with tiny fingers, “no mean looks to the other kids, and—“

She stops, the memory spilling her brain.

“And no F bombs from you either.” Eddie warns, poking softly at her chest. “Even if it was only once.”

“It was part of the song—“ She argues, mouth turning down at the corners in frown.

“Riley.” Eddie says more sternly, causing her to shrink slightly.

“Okay,” She answers softly, taking smaller bites of the banana until it’s nearly gone, she glances at the digital clock on the microwave and glances back at her dad, who still seems completely frazzled, “—I thought school started at eight.”

“It does.” Eddie nods, slipping his wallet back into his pocket and gathering his things for work; lunch, tools, although surely he was still missing something.

“Look.” She tells him, finger pointing just past his head.

Eddie turned, eyes widening at the numbers appearing back to him.

7:50. 

It was the first day and he was already starting off on the wrong foot, but given his track record, he couldn’t really be surprised. 

Eddie quickly lifts Riley from the counter and places her down, letting her run for her backpack on the couch—a faded, black backpack that Eddie got from Wayne a few weeks ago; money was tight, but he always tried to make the best of their situation. He ironed a few of his old patches from his favorite bands he had stored away and even the one he’s gotten made of his old band as a joke, a true one of a kind. He wanted to save it for something special—or someone. Luckily, that was Riley.

“Alright,” He says, clapping his hands together loudly, “let’s go, go, go.” 

Riley’s feet pitter patter underneath him as he chases after her, urging her out of the trailer—the one he rented out just beside his uncle, as much as he’d hoped to get out of this town, he couldn’t think of a better place to be held up in.

Eddie’s never been a stickler for rules—and he makes it with a couple minutes to spare, but no one needed to know about him driving a smidge over the speed limit to get Riley to school on time. 

He feels immensely underdressed around the other crowd of parents—and noticing the one obvious factor, most of them were women. He realizes it shouldn’t matter much, but it was also painfully obvious that he was all over the place, clothes slightly dirtied from grease stains and general car grossness. It didn’t matter how much he washed them, the stains were coming out. 

Riley’s eager, unbuckling herself and opening her own door before Eddie can even reach her, suffocating his hand in a tight grip as she yanks him along, humming along to a tune that Eddie can only guess is from a morning cartoon. When it came to music she sang her heart out, an obvious sign that he was hers—she loved music.

“Come on, dad,” She complains, Eddie’s feet keeping up with her hurried steps, “we can’t be late.”

“For a five year old you’re incredibly bossy.” Eddie notes, her giggling trailing down the hall as they entered the school. 

She eyes the walls with rapt attention, all decked out with arts and crafts, eye-grabbing from every angle. Eddie had made a point to remember the name of his teacher, at least, if anything. So, when she trails just a little further than she needs to, Eddie’s pulling her back with a hand against her chest.

“Woah, hold your horses.” Eddie chuckles, her body knocking into his chest as he knelt down. “Do you want me to walk you in or are you okay?”

The soft scuff of soles on the tile floor pull Eddie’s attention up, eyes landing on you. You offer a friendly smile amongst the chaos—crying kids, worried parents, and all the restless energy a small child could carry this early in the morning. 

“Hi.” You greet cheerfully, addressing yourself formally, hand extended for him to shake. Eddie’s still squatting at Riley’s side but his hand extends too, enveloping yours in a gentle grip, a polite handshake.

You sense the nervousness of the young girl before you, squatting down to her level as well, “You must be Riley.” You guess accordingly, seeming as she was the last kid on your list to show up, her face beamed with a brightness that was entirely too infectious. You introduce yourself to her too, shaking her smaller hand in greeting. 

“Alright kid,” Eddie pats her back softly, standing slowly as his knees groan in protest. Eddie was nearing his thirties and not nearly as nimble as before, with a mix of aging and his job it seemed like his body was wearing away faster than he liked, “you ready?”

“Oh,” You interrupt, standing too, “you can come inside and see where’s she sitting if you’d like and if you have any quick questions I can answer them.”

Eddie blanks for a moment, but is quickly pulled out of it when Riley tugs at his hand in excitement, “Okay, just a couple minutes, Ri—I can’t be late for work.” Eddie follows along dutifully, narrowly missing the flurry of tiny people that run past him.

Riley arrives at the desk in a hurry, taking her seat and examining her area. “Look daddy,” She points out, “the desk has my name.”

“Yep, baby,” Eddie nods, smoothing out her tattered curls, still beating himself up over not taking the time to make them look better, “can you read it?”

Riley nods enthusiastically, “Riley Munson,” she sounds out, “Duh, I know my name.” 

Eddie chuckles at that and you can’t help but laugh. She was a character for sure, but most of the kids were, blossoming personalities and all.

You interrupt for a moment, leaning down to Riley’s level again, “And we even get to decorate these with cool stickers!”

Riley gasps in joy, staring up at Eddie with wide, glistening eyes.

“She loves stickers,” Eddie tells you, “Uh—I should probably already know this, but what time is pickup?”

“Oh, you’re fine.” You assure him, noting his frazzled state. It was common for parents, specifically first timers. “Three is when we actually let them out, but the line can get pretty long so it’s always better to show up early if you can.”

Eddie nods slowly, glancing around the room. He’s never been one to care what people think of him or his appearance, but in this setting it feels magnified. “Sorry, I feel a little underdressed.”

You quickly shake your head, watching as a young girl approaches Riley. You nod toward the door, silently asking Eddie to follow. He bids her a quick goodbye and a kiss in the crown of her head which she could care less about, already chattering to her newfound friend. 

“Don’t feel like an outcast,” You tell him, “it’s definitely not worth beating yourself up over.”

Eddie had been there his entire life, he wasn’t sure he could ever escape that. 

Oddly, it comforts Eddie for the moment. “Shit—wait shoot,” Eddie fumbles over his words, voice hushed as he realizes his mistake, “I’m Eddie by the way, I probably should’ve started with that.”

You laugh in amusement, nose scrunching up slightly. You’re far enough from earshot that their impressionable ears can’t hear, but it’s still charming that he tries to save himself. 

“Well Eddie,” You say with a lilt to your voice, “if we run into any issues—which I’m sure we won’t—we’ll give you a call.”

Eddie nods, “Okay uh,” He points toward Riley sparingly, “she can be a little—headstrong, so if she gives you problems—“

“I can handle her,” You assure him, leaning forward with a quiet whisper, “it’s kind of my job.”

Eddie smiles at that, a nervous laugh rumbling through his chest. He needs to excuse himself before he embarrasses himself further. 

“Okay, three. I’ll be here.” He tells you, loose curls bouncing over his shoulders as he moves. 

“And I’ll see you then.” You nod, watching as he hurriedly leaves then, bolting out faster that you can process. Considering how daunting days like this could be for parents, he was still handling it surprisingly well. 

The day is just as hectic as you’d expect. A few meltdowns later and a messy lunch with over a hundred rambunctious kids and you’re all out of energy for the day but keep it up until the very last minute of the school day, letting each child pick a sticker to put on their own name tag on their desk—it’s an easy way to give the kids an outlet to express themselves and show of their personality, plus, the kids loved the stickers.

Pickup is gradual, the children leaving in troves until there’s only a few left, lingering around the hall as they wait for their rides. You find Riley perched on a bench outside of your classroom, fiddling with the laces on her shoes, frayed from wear and tear as she attempts to re-tie them. She huffs dramatically when she can’t figure it out, shoulder slumping as she frowns

You approach with a weary caution, taking a seat next to her on the bench. She doesn’t immediately look up at you, kicking the toes of her shoes together. “Stupid,” She grumbled, “stupid shoes.”

“Do you need help?” You ask sweetly.

“I don’t know how,” She expresses dramatically, “I try and the loop doesn’t work. My daddy ties my shoes for me.”

“Well, Riley—would you like me to teach you?” You ask.

She nods enthusiastically, clumsily turning to place her feet in your lap, staring up at you expectantly. You laugh softly, making a show of taking the two strings in your hand, guiding her through the motions as she watches, cataloging every step. She helps you sing, bouncing with energy. 

“Okay, your turn.” You tell her, watching as she fiddles with laces, murmuring a ‘bunny ears, bunny ears’ under her breath as she focuses, tongue slipping out past her lips in concentration. It takes her a moment, struggling to get the lace under the loop, but eventually she gets it. You erupt in a soft cheer, shaking your fists up in celebration. Riley beams a toothy grin that lingers, her eyes squinting with how big she’s smiling. 

You take a peek at your watch, reading it to yourself. 3:15. It wasn’t unusual for late parents, as a few kids were also lingering about, but while they were antsy and anxious to leave, Riley sat quietly, attention turned up toward a spot on the ceiling as she waited. 

You wait a bit longer in silence, listening to Riley sing the lyrics to a faintly familiar rock song, much to mature for her ears—but that can only be the product of her father, which you couldn’t really fault him for. Kids were just as good at paying attention as they were being passive, it was all subjective and only when they wanted to. 

By 3:30 you’re a little more concerned, Riley being the last kid left and not a car or parent in sight.

She sighs exasperated, playing with the loose string on her jumper, “Daddy’s late isn’t he?”

“A little,” You nod, “Is this normal? Does it happen a lot?”

You weren’t trying to point fingers or scrutinize anyone, just simply prodding for more information. 

“My dad works on cars—s’why he looks dirty all the time.” She explains, her words mixing together. “Sometimes the men are mean and keep him at work late.”

“Oh dear,” You sigh slightly, “well, I guess we’ll have to do something to keep us busy.”

You didn’t leave until late into the evening anyways, closer to five—and it wasn’t the first time you’ve had to keep a kid past the normal pickup time, though it had been a while.

“Do you like to color?” You ask curiously.

Riley perks up suddenly, nodding. 

“Well, you’re in luck, Riley.” You tell her, hand held out for her to grab, leading her into the classroom and setting her at a separate table away from the desks. She waits patiently, feeling squeaking against the linoleum as she watches you move around, grabbing a box of crayons and a few spare drawing pages for her to color in. “Can you work on this for me?”

Riley nods again, furiously sifting through the colors and getting to work, scribbling a dark red crayon onto the paper.

You slip away for a moment, crossing the hall to the office and attempting to find someone—anyone that you can check in with, wondering where Eddie was. The secretary pops her head out of the lounge room suddenly, eyeing you curiously.

“Hey, the little one, Riley Munson—has anyone come to ask for her yet?” You ask, “I wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost in the bunch?”

“That’s Eddie Munson’s kid, right?” The older lady asks, a gruffness to her voice from years of smoking. “Huh.”

Huh. You make an annoyed face as she turns her back, walking toward her desk.

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

“That kid has never had his life together,” She tells you, having known Eddie when he attended Hawkins, “I used to write tardy slips for him everyday—boy would come in smelling of weed almost every day, he’s always been trouble.”

“Weren’t we all trouble in high school?” You ask daringly.

“Not like him,” She tells you, “repeated his senior year three times and didn’t graduate until he was twenty.”

You roll your eyes subtly, the judgment oozing from her in waves. “Can you just call her emergency number and see if we can get someone to pick her up?”

The older woman responds with a noise, picking up the phone between her brittle fingers, startled rightly when someone bursts through the front entrance, keys jingling in their hand.

“God, I’m so sorry—“ Eddie looks even more stressed out than earlier, his face slightly dirty and a greased up handkerchief shoved in his backpacker, “where is she?”

The old lady watched with a pointed look as you nod toward your classroom, avoiding her gaze as you turn your back. 

“I’ve got her busy in my room,” You tell him, leading him toward your door silently, “she’s been very good considering.”

“I promise it’s not always like this,” Eddie says defensively, “today has just—it’s been a day.”

You stop him just outside the entrance, hand placed gently against his chest to still him.

“It’s okay,” You tell him honestly, “but this can’t be a regular thing. You either need to have someone available to pick her up after school on time or work something out with administration. I don’t mind staying after—but I can get in trouble if she stays too late.”

“Look, I mean it—this is the only time.” He stressed, eyes pleading in hopes that you won’t judge him too harshly.

You couldn’t. You would never. You weren’t in a place to judge anyone. 

You nod in understanding, extending your trust. “She’s coloring—go ahead.” You tell him, letting him walk in before you.

Riley can hear the footsteps before she spots you both, her chair skidding against the floor as she bolts toward the door, barreling toward Eddie. He picks her up with ease, scooping her up onto his hip, coloring pages forgotten. 

“I missed you.” He tells her, fingers squeezing gently at her side. She laughs, hugging him tight despite his dirtiness. 

“I miss’d you.” She says softly, arms squeezing around him even further. Eddie smiles, burying his face into her bundle of curls placed lopsided on top of her head.

Eddie pulls away after a moment, looking over at you. “I’m so sorry.” He apologizes again and you’re starting to sense a theme. 

“No need,” You insist, “but come Monday—“

Eddie nods, “I’ll be on time.”

And for whatever odd reason, you believed him. 

You smile at him then at Riley, features softening as she peaks at you from over Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you on Monday Riley, okay?” You speak to her.

“Yes!” She cheers, leaning over to whisper into Eddie’s ear.

Eddie leans in, laughing at whatever she was saying to him. Eddie pulls away, nodding at Riley in agreement.

“She said you can call her Ri,” Eddie explains, “which is a very prestigious honor, right?” Eddie turns to Riley, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“Prisigious?” Riley repeats in an innocent tone, “Dad, that’s not a word.”

“Oh, it is Ms. Ri,” You respond matter of factually, “prestigious,” You sound out, “it means super important and special, like you.”

Eddie watches the interaction in a happy silence, the exchange more endearing than anything he’s ever witnessed. It had always taken a while for Riley to warm up to new people, which is why he had been so nervous for her first day, but it all seemed ridiculous now after watching the two of you interact. 

“Thank you.” Eddie says suddenly, eyes connecting with yours.

It startles you for a moment, face pulling up in a confused smile.

“For?”

“Not judging, I guess.” He shrugs, “And keeping her company.”

You chuckle softly, “It’s kind of my job, Mr. Munson.”

Eddie grimaces at that, “God—am I that old? We can stick to first names, right?”

And truly, you’re only teasing. You nod in response, waving a warm goodbye to Riley as Eddie grabbed her backpack, shrugging it over his own shoulder.

“Byeeee,” She sings, hand waving over Eddie's shoulder as he triggers her along, more than eager to get her out of your hair, Eddie does mumble to Riley for a moment before she screams out again, “—my daddy said bye too!”

Riley was a character, that was for sure. But seeing her with Eddie, it all made sense.

Eddie keeps his promise, the next month of school going off without a hitch. Riley is there on time, every morning, hell or high water, and she’s just as chipper as you would expect from someone her age. Eddie doesn’t come inside often, only on the few days that Riley has a hard time rolling out of bed, so you don’t see him that often—not that you wanted to.

You totally didn’t want to. Either way, it didn’t matter. 

October is one of the few months that you can enjoy real fun with the kids—holidays always have their positives, as well as their negatives. But, the kids loved crafts and so did you. 

A week out from Halloween and you had purchased a full box of small pumpkins for your kids, one for each, and all the crafts you could imagine—paints, markers, stuff for making silly faces or glitter bombing their pumpkin. You’d made it clear about messes and the kids had followed for the most part.

But, you could only expect so much from a group of six year olds. And in hindsight, you never expected your degree to end up with you constantly hovering around a group of kids hoping they wouldn’t eat the glue sticks or shove crayons up their noses—unfortunately, that was your life. 

You wouldn’t change it for a thing.

And it’s almost peaceful until the time for cleanup comes and there’s a rushed call of your name, the tiny panicked tone sending you into fight or flight, turning on your heels to spot where the voice is coming from.

When you do, it lands on her. Little Riley, covered in paint—her face, hair, clothes, and a boy at her side caught red-handed, quickly dropping the paint when your eyes flick to him. You steady yourself with a deep breath before going back into teacher mode, instructing the rest of the class to sit on the rug at the front of the class room with their legs crossed, grabbing both of the kids gently by the hand and walking them out of the classroom, luckily coming face to face with another teacher who happened to be on break from her class while they attended their specials class, practically begging her to watch the rest of the class for the time being.

“Fifteen minutes, that’s all I need.” You tell her and she agrees.

When you’re finally alone with the two you kneel, taking the younger boy’s hands in yours, calming their insistent shaking.

“You’re not in trouble,” You tell him, Evan, the younger boy responsible, “but do you realize what you did wrong?”

He nods silently.

“I get big emotions too, trust me.” You tell him softly, “But, we can’t take them out on others. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“He made fun of my clothes!” Riley interrupts with a screech, eyes welling with tears. “He said I dress like a boy.”

“Is that true?” You ask him, receiving a shameful nod.

“It’s not fun being picked on,” You explain to him, “how would you feel if Riley said you dressed silly?”

“Sad.” He answers softly. 

“Exactly.” You smile slightly, “Can you apologize to Riley?”

He turns to her, unable to meet her tiny, heated gaze.

“I’m sorry, Riley.” 

You stare at Riley pointedly, her arms crossed over her chest in defiance. There’s a silent pleading that she seems to understand, chewing on her bottom lip as she relents.

“It’s okay.” She tells him, “I forgive you.”

You nod, satisfied. “Okay, Evan—head back to class, please.”

The boy walks slowly, head hung in shame and embarrassment at having been caught and doing what he did—this behavior was all too familiar and not new in any way.

“He’s stupid.” Riley says with a bite, face smeared with paint.

“Riley,” You warn, “we don’t call people that.”

“Did you say anything to him after he made fun of your clothes?” You ask, hoping to get to the bottom of their little squabble.

“I called him stupid.” She says—it’s almost impossible not to laugh, but you mask it well, gaze flitting up toward the ceiling as Riley flicks the paint off of her hand and wipes them against her ruined overalls, the shirt underneath barely unscathed. 

“Can I let you in on a secret, Ri?” You ask, kneeling down in front of her. She nods slowly, giving you her hands. You did it often with the kids, finding that it calmed them the quickest. “All boys are stupid.”

Riley smiles slightly, giggling quietly. 

You sigh, taking a glance at her and then her outfit.

“Your dad doesn’t pack extra clothes for you, does he?”

Riley shakes her head, pigtails swinging wildly.

You huff, “Okay—let’s brainstorm.”

“Brain…storm?” Riley asks curiously.

You nod, “Yeah, like…come up with ideas. It’s just a silly word for it.”

Riley ponders for a moment, lips pursing together in thought. 

She sighs after a moment, “My brain is empty, no storms.”

You laugh audibly, a short giggle as you stare fondly at the girl.

“Actually,” The thought hits you suddenly, “I think we have some spare clothes in the office, we could take our chances and see if there’s anything in your size. If not, I’ll have to call your dad.”

“No, no—“ She says hurriedly, “don’t call my dad, please.”

You since her concern, eyebrow raising in question.

“I broke his rule.” She frowns, “I gave Evan a mean look and I called him stupid.”

You smile tensely, trying to weigh how to explain things to her, before settling on, “I think he’ll understand, Ri. But, I’ll try my hardest so we don’t have to.” 

The best you can do is a god awful pair of pink corduroy pants in her size, which she very loudly states she dislikes.

“Ew!” She says in disgust. “Can I stay in these, please?”

“Riley,” You stress, “You have to change.”

She slumps in defeat, not putting up much of a fight. She holds her hands out begrudgingly, making small grabbing fists until you hand them over, quickly skittering off to the bathroom.

When she returns, she looks even more annoyed, but cleaner.

“My face,” She frowns, “it’s sticky.”

“Yep, kiddo.” You nod, taking her ruined overalls and stuffing them into a plastic bag before tying them off, leaving them for Eddie to pick up later. “I’ve got wipes in my classroom and we’ll get you cleaned up.”

It’s a struggle, but you do manage to get most of the paint cleaned up while the other teacher manages your class, holding their attention with a book she read out loud, letting you deal with Riley in silence. Her hair is a challenge, still sticky and hardened with paint—you manage what you can, undoing her pigtails and wiping out as much paint as possible before braiding the hair back nicely and keeping it out of her face. She feels the bumps in her hair curiously, making a face.

“Braids.” You explain. “Have you ever had them?”

“Daddy can’t do them.” She tells you. “I like piggies. But I also like the braids.”

“Well, maybe you can bribe him into learning if you like them a lot.” You tell her, helping her down from the desk she was perched on. “But, I can always do it for you if you really want them on a certain day.”

You urged her back toward the group of kids, watching as she took a seat toward the rear, hands twisted in her lap as she listened quietly—she seemed less comfortable, more outcast than normal, and while Riley had a big personality—it wasn’t showing now. 

When Eddie arrives later that day for pickup, it’s a flurry of emotions. Riley immediately bursts into tears when she sees him, still one of the last kids to be picked up—but he’s not too late.

He stares up at you with a myriad of questions and you hand the dirty clothes over wordlessly. He glances at Riley, nudging her face away from his shoulder. “Hey—hey, what’s wrong?”

Riley looks up at you desperately, frown pulling at her face.

“Ri, why don’t you go play over at the table,” You suggest, “the toys are in the bin underneath.”

She nods, letting go of Eddie in an instant.

When she’s finally busied herself, you pull Eddie aside, leaning against the edge of your desk. “There was a little incident today. A boy teased Riley for her clothes and she called him stupid,” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest, “we were decorating pumpkins and there was some paint involved—the other kid spilled paint all over her.”

“And no one called me?” Eddie asks, frustration evident in his face.

You held your hands up defensively, “Riley was very insistent that I don’t—luckily we had some spare clothes in the office.”

“Why—why wouldn’t she want you to call me?”

“She said she broke your rules,” You explain to him, “whatever that means. Regardless, I tried to clean her up as best I could. She still has a bit of paint in her hair.”

Eddie glances over at his daughter, still frowning as she plays. He knew the sadness was temporary, but damn if he wasn’t playing into it. He notices the braids a half second later, glancing back at you briefly and then toward her again.

“Sorry if I overstepped—her hair was a bit of a mess.” You admit to him, “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.”

Eddie laughs slightly, “No—it’s fine. I’m at a complete loss when it comes to that stuff.” He scratches at his cheek, grime covered rings leaving a dark mark against his skin in the process. You smile to yourself, pulling a wipe from the packet and handing it over.

“It’s—you got something on your face.” You tell him, pointing to the spot.

“Here?”

“No,” You point again, Eddie moves a smidgen over but still isn’t in the right spot, “—just, here, give me it—“ Eddie hands over the wipe and waits for you to clean away the mark, leaning toward you slightly.

“She’s had a rough day,” You tell him quietly, wiping at his face until it’s gone, tossing the wipe into the trash, “and maybe paint with a bunch of six year olds wasn’t too smart, but I think you’ll really like what she made.”

Eddie eyes you suspiciously, watching as you call out to Riley.

“Hey Ri, did you want to show your dad what you made today?” 

She perks up slightly, skittering over to her desk in hurry as she fetches the small pumpkin before handing it over to Eddie.

“It’s you, daddy!” She beams, pointing out the dark marks that were supposed to be hair, comically wide eyes and a half smile on the front. He turned it, seeing the small group of bats she drew on the back. He smiles, rubbing tenderly at her chin.

“I wasn’t sure what the bats were all about but she insisted.” 

“Oh,” Eddie notes, pulling his sleeve up to show off his inked up arm—and really, it didn’t shock you much, “that’s why.”

“Crap, Ri—I almost forgot,” You tell her, rounding your desk to open the drawer housing the pages of stickers, “I need you to pick out a sticker for your desk.”

She gasps excitedly, yanking away from Eddie without hesitation and running to your side, fingers dragging along the page until she finds the one she wants, letting you pluck it from the paper and hand it over. 

Eddie knows he’ll still have to sit and talk with Riley when they get home to make sure she’s working through her emotions correctly instead of bottling them up—something he was much too guilty of as a teenager. He hates seeing her repeat the same habits he did, doing as much as he could to avoid it.

Eddie’s quick to thank you again and again, a strange habit he’s formed around you. Oddly enough, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop him.

Grocery shopping is always an adventure with Riley. Eddie never had a list of things he needed, more or less just picking out whatever sounded good, but that also meant an unhealthy amount of snacks being piled in the cart. Eddie didn’t have it in him to tell Riley to put things back, knowing she’d pull out the big guns. Some would call him weak—he was, he could admit that. 

“Can you reach it?” Eddie asked, Riley hoisted up onto his shoulders to reach the cereal box on the top shelf. It definitely wasn’t the safest option, but it was working.

“Higher!” She instructed, grunting out as she stretched, “Ha—gotcha!”

Eddie laughs, “Are we good?”

No response, a small amount of wiggling on his shoulders. 

“Ri?”

She gasps suddenly, screaming out your name from over the aisle—Eddie rightfully panics, hoisting her off of his shoulders carefully.

“Riley, you can’t scream in public like that.” Eddie tells her, pulling the cereal box from her grip.

“But…Ms.—“ Riley defends feebly, her fingers pouting to the aisle over.

You did spot her, in fact, giving her a quick wave and a cheeky smile as you pushed your cart down the aisle, making your way through the store. When you round the corner, Eddie and her are still standing there arguing, animated enough that you stand back, not wanting to interrupt.

Eddie stares up at you after a moment, eyes already speaking an apology.

“Stop,” You tell him suddenly, a grin breaching your face, “no apologies, it’s not necessary.”

“I was going to apologize for my child’s lack of filter,” Eddie says, pulling gently at Riley’s ear, “but I guess she was just really excited to see you.”

“As I am you, miss.” You tell her softly, offering out your fist to her. She bumps it gently, giggling up at Eddie.

The silence that settles is bordering on awkward, both of you deciding to speak at the same time.

“So, you shop here—“

“You’re in the way of—“

Eddie chuckles awkwardly, “You first.”

“You’re in the way of the cereal I was going to grab.” You inform, waving toward that side of the aisle.

“Oh, shit.” He curses, quickly shoving his cart out of the way.

“Dad,” Riley sings, a telltale sign that Eddie had done something wrong, “that’s another dollar.”

“How about I buy you a chocolate bar and we call it even?” Eddie barters, staring the small child down.

She contemplates for a moment, “Deal.”

“She’s clever.” You note with a smirk, reaching around Eddie to grab the box of cereal before shoving it in your cart. 

“And a handful.” Eddie adds fondly.

“Dad,” Riley pokes at Eddie’s side, “Dad, daddyyyy.”

“What, Ri?” He asks, turning to her.

“Can we invite her over for dinner?” She asks innocently, a grin appearing on her face, hopeful optimism some would call it. 

“Riley—she’s your teacher, I can’t do that.”

“It’s not against any rules.” You shrug, mouth speaking before your brain can process. “I wouldn’t want to intrude though, that would be very nice of me.”

Eddie quickly answers, “Uh, you wouldn’t actually.”

“He’s making my favorite!” Riley interjects.

“And what’s that?” You ask with a similar enthusiasm.

“Spaghetti!” It was a mouthful for her to say, but you understand her well enough.

You shrug, glancing up at Eddie. “I don’t know, she’s selling me a pretty good dinner.”

“Would you?” Eddie asks, “Want to?”

“I don’t see why not?” You ask redundantly, “I would’ve ended up grabbing a pizza on my way home anyways—so why not some real Italian food?”

Eddie looks at you with an uneasy expression, “I don’t know about real—or Italian, but I promise it’ll be edible.”

“I’m sold.” You admit, slipping out a pen and paper from your purse, “Give me your address and the time I should be there.”

Riley is a tiny ball of excitement, yanking at the unoccupied hand Eddie left by his side as scribbled down on the notepad before handing it back to you. You note the information before slipping it back into your purse. 

“Well Ri, I guess I’ll see you in a couple hours.” You tell her with a smile before looking up at Eddie, “Should I bring anything?”

“No, no—it’ll be our treat, right?” He asks, looking down at his daughter.

“Yep!” She pops the word, bouncing on her heels.

Even being around her energy was enough to exhaust you, so you could only imagine how Eddie was feeling. You offer a friendly wave to both of them before disappearing down the aisle, wondering what the hell just happened. 

The moment you arrive at the trailer park, your heart feels like it’s going to pound out of your chest—not out of fear or nervousness, but mostly out of the unknown. It was the first time you’ve interacted with parents outside of work, not that you made it a habit, but you have befriended a few. It was a natural thing that happened and nothing that ever felt forced—with Eddie, it was strangely comfortable despite how little you knew about him, or Riley, even. 

You pull to a stop outside the pale blue trailer, the front yard a mixture of new flowers and some wilted away, a few small statues of animals that you could guess were a product of Riley. You can hear her on the other side of the door before you even knock, belting out a song at the top of her lungs.

You knock loudly in hopes that Eddie can hear, thankfully he does, opening the door in record time—strangely fast when you take time to think about. You smile at the thought of him having been waiting at the door, then feeling ridiculous for even having that thought.

“You’re just in time,” Eddie says, slightly out of breath, “Riley’s putting on a show in the living room.”

You take in his appearance fully now, unashamed—he’s cleaner obviously, his hair looks more thought out and poised, small ringlet curls falling around his face and his bangs looking straighter, like he might’ve cut them. He’s got a pair of jeans on and a clean shirt, stain free—socks covering his feet, a pile of shoes stuffed by the door. 

You step inside, toeing off your shoes wordlessly and placing your bag and coat on the coat hanger behind the door. Eddie shuts the door for you, nodding in the direction of the noise coming from several feet away. 

“Is that Nirvana?” You ask curiously, turning your head back toward Eddie.

“She’s a character, I know,” Eddie feels the need to state, but that was already blatantly obvious, “it’s one of her favorite bands.”

You shrug, feeling indifferent.

“You don’t like them?” Eddie asks, noticing your stagnant expression. 

“I don’t listen to much music.” You admit, “I don’t really have the time unless it is something from Barney or one of those silly education videos we show the kids.”

Eddie looks pained to hear it, eyebrows shooting up under his bang. Riley notices you then, hopping off of the couch and running toward you, arms wrapping around your legs in a tight hug. 

“You made it,” She says, “daddy said dinner was almost done.”

“It is,” He confirms, setting the plates down on the kitchen table as he wanders around finishing things up, “you can sit, if you want.”

You opt against it, waiting until Riley busies herself with something else, joining Eddie near the kitchen stove, tapping your fingers against the kitchen counter gently.

“Smells good,” You tell him honestly, the scent invading your nose, “I can’t even remember the last time I cooked for myself.”

“She keeps me in check,” He nods behind him, “otherwise I’d be ordering carry out everyday like I was still in high school.”

You smile at that, silently agreeing—it was your current reality, but you also didn’t have the same responsibilities Eddie did.

You look around curiously, eyes falling on the jar placed on the shelf a few feet away, labeled ‘swear jar’ and by the looks of it, it was definitely time for a new one. Eddie looks up briefly to catch you staring at things, chuckling loudly behind you.

“I already know,” Eddie tells you, “It’s a terrible habit and I’ve tried to break it, we’re still working on it, clearly.”

You smile fondly, watching as Riley scattered her toys on the floor. “I try to keep it constrained around the kids, but it slips out every now and then. You just have to get creative, come up with other words—otherwise she’ll be saying fuck in public and I can’t imagine anything more embarrassing.”

Eddie gawks at your vulgar use of the words, face splitting into a subtle smile. “Too late.” He tells you. 

You couldn’t even act surprised. Eddie nods knowingly at your expression, turning off the stove.

“Could you do me a huge favor?” Eddie asks.

“Anything.” You nod.

“Let Riley know the food is done and get her to the table—she can be a little hard headed about it.”

If there was anyone to combat that, it was you. 

It only takes one try, much to Eddie’s obvious frustration as he glares Riley down—the young girl knew exactly what she was doing and he couldn’t fault her for it, she was clever. 

“Do you want a beer?” Eddie calls from the kitchen.

You glance over at Riley who’s oblivious to the conversation, dragging her spoon along the empty plate. And as much as you would normally say yes, you can’t bring yourself to do it now.

“Uh no, I’ll be okay.” You tell him, waving your hand dismissively. Eddie shrugs nonchalantly, grabbing himself one.

Dinner is pleasant—and delicious. Riley takes up most of the talking points—her favorite animals, her favorite shows, and all the cool things she’s learned at school, not that you didn’t already know about them. But, she’s also terrible at stopping intrusive thoughts, much like any young kid is, and her questions catch you off guard every now and then.

“Are you married?” Coming from her, it sounds ridiculous—but she’s pointing at the ring on your hand with a curious look, her fingertip dragging over the gem.

“Riley.” Eddie reprimands, “Stop being nosey.”

Eddie was just as curious, but that didn’t matter. 

“No, sweetheart—I’m not.” You tell her honestly with a short laugh and a head shake. “It was a present I got when I finished school.”

Riley’s lips puff out, thinking. “School like I do?—but you’re old.”

Eddie hangs his head slightly, taking a big chug of his beer.

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, “I am.” You nod in agreement, “But no, it’s a little different. It’s school for grownups—it’s how I became a teacher.”

“Oh.” Is all she says, satisfied with your answer. 

There’s a beat of silence before she turns to her father.

“Can I have a ring when I finish school?” She asks innocently.

“Sure.” Eddie agrees, downing the last bite on his plate.

Late dinners had become a habit lately with Eddie’s job not being as convenient as it used to—long hours, angry customers, it was a monotonous cycle but that money was good. Eddie really couldn’t complain, he’d just wished there was more time for Riley.

“Hey, squirt—go brush your teeth and get ready for bed.” Eddie tells her. She slumps a little, frowning over at you.

Eddie gives her a look—you’ve seen it several times before from many parents. Riley sighs in defeat and slips from her chair, stomping away quietly. You glance down at the dishes, then the sink before looking at Eddie. He’s got that distracted stare on his face as he turns, finishing off his beer as he watches Riley disappear into the bathroom.

“Why don’t you help her?” You suggest, “I can clean this up and you can get her into bed?”

Eddie looks uncertain, “No—I can—“

“It’s the least I can do,” You insist, “seriously—it’s not a problem.”

Eddie knows there’s no reason to argue, placing the empty bottle down on the table and meeting up with Riley down the hall, a squeal echoing through the trailer as he bursts through the doorway. 

Eddie’s gotten Riley into a routine pretty easily, so it doesn’t take much for her to fall asleep besides a quick bedtime story while she snuggles up to Eddie before she’s out like a light and he’s sneaking out of her room, pulling the door closed slowly until it finally clicks shut. 

You’d already managed to get most of the dishes washed by then—plates, silverware, cups, save for the giant pot that Eddie had cooked in. 

“I can handle the rest if you need to leave.” Eddie says quietly, voice still low as he walks into the kitchen, flipping off the other lights as he goes. “Also—I’m sorry if you felt obligated to do this. Riley really likes you and sometimes she grows these…attachments.”

You take the clean towel he hands you, drying your hands as you turn to him, hip pressed against the counter as you lean there. “She’s not the first, trust me. I see those kids almost everyday and for the younger ones it’s a little…tricky, I guess.”

“Tricky?” Eddie asks curiously, sensing your apprehension around the word. He tossed the pot into the sink and scrubbed quietly, listening to you talk.

“Some of the kids don’t have the best home life, I try to keep things positive and cheerful—as much as I can, at least. Kids love being surrounded by love and I try to emulate that. The ones with divorced parents or just one even—you can tell they just need someone to understand them.”

Eddie tries not to think about it often—his past, his present, how Riley has to survive this world without her mom. He knows she’ll be safe and protected for the rest of her life, Eddie would make sure of it. But, for a kid to grow up without a mother—he knows the pain personally and it bothers Riley, even at this age and no matter how good she is at masking it.

Eddie huffs out a faint laugh, drying out the dish before placing it on the dish rack next to the sink, pressing his hands against the edge of the counter. 

“I don’t ever mean to press or pry,” You assure Eddie, “but if Riley ever needs anything, tell me. I extend that to all of the parents but—she’s—“

“Different.” Eddie answers for you, a smile pulling at his face. 

“She’s incredibly smart, you know.” You inform him, backing up slowly as he follows, reaching for your things to leave. “She picks up on words like nothing, she can do math in her head really well—you’ve got a tiny little genius on your hands.”

“Yeah—I’ve been helping her with her homework, she keeps telling me we need to brainstorm,” Eddie tells you, throwing his finger up to do air quotes, “when we get stuck on a problem.”

Your nose scrunches up in amusement as you find your coat over your arms, “That was definitely my fault.” You admit.

Eddie follows you out like a gentleman despite the frigid wind, hands shoved deep into his back pockets. He opens your door, the metal groaning in protest—it was an old car, reliable, trustworthy, and as your key turns in the ignition, nothing happens.

Scratch reliable—it was a piece of shit, through and through. 

You rest your forehead against the steering wheel, mumbling a low, “Fuck me.”

Eddie takes a step forward, leaning between your open door to poke his head inside, “I can take a look if you want.”

You rub your hands over your face in frustration, looking up at him sheepishly. “I really don’t want to bother you with it.”

“Come on,” Eddie smiles, “I work on cars for a living, I think I’ll survive.”

You wave your hand toward the hood of your car in response. Eddie taps the hood of your car absentmindedly, rounding the front as you pull on the pedal near the floor to pop the hood open. He leans down, out of view, and you can’t help but follow after him, leaning into his space slightly as he examines your engine. 

You wouldn’t even know where to start or what cord goes to what point or however it all worked—fortunately for Eddie, it only takes him a few minutes to figure it out.

Eddie makes a face of concentration as he reaches further inside, pulling at a small part until he can hold it in his hand, inspecting it further. 

“Shit, yeah—“ Eddie says, confirming his suspicions, “you need new spark plugs.”

Your eyebrows knit together in obvious confusion. 

“I can clean them up a bit and we can hope it starts—but you’ll need to buy new ones soon, otherwise this is gonna keep happening.” Eddie tells you, using the end of his shirt to wipe away the built up residue, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Eddie, what the—“ You quickly yank the spark plug from his hand, “that shirt is clean, what are you doing?”

Eddie’s a little startled, given your immediate reaction. He stumbles out an awkward laugh and gently pries the spark plug from your grip. “They’re just clothes.”

And you do feel bad, but it’s become your second nature to stop messes, keep kids clean, and slip into the normal habit of being a teacher and in turn, a bit motherly.

Eddie’s faze doesn’t linger from yours, watching as you deflated slightly. “Sorry—I can’t help it.”

“I get it,” Eddie grins slightly, “but don’t worry, it’s an old shirt anyways.”

Your cheeks run hot, triggered by embarrassment and something you were too afraid to admit.

And if Eddie sees it, he doesn’t say anything. 

He fiddles with the car a moment longer before finally closing the hood, “Try it now.”

It does start—with some moaning and groaning, but it works and that’s satisfying enough for you.

“Thank you.” You tell him, looking up at him from where’s squeezed between the car and the door again, dark grease stains staring you in the face—along with a lot more, but you quickly turn away. 

“No problem,” He shrugs, “—hey, why don’t you bring it to the shop when you have time?”

“Are you sure?” You ask.

It’s a recurring theme with you two, constantly afraid of offending the other or doing something out of line.

“Yeah,” He nods, “It’ll save the hassle of you being overpriced or selling something you don’t need. I can have it done in an hour.”

“Small problem,” You tell him begrudgingly, “I’m pretty sure I work the same hours you do—so that makes it nearly impossible.”

“Are you busy next Saturday?” He asks boldly, no easing into it.

“No.” You answer hesitantly, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Stop by here and I’ll drive you up to the shop,” He tells you, “I’ve got a set of keys so it won’t be a problem.”

“Do you do this for all your customers?” You ask with a soft laugh.

“Only the special ones,” Eddie replies with a wide grin, bordering on flirtatious, “—Riley would have my head if she found out you needed help and I didn’t at least try.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” You respond teasingly.

Eddie shrugs in response, the smugness written all over his face. “I’ll see you on Monday.” He says, slipping the door closed gently.

You’ve never sat through a longer Sunday waiting for a dreadful Monday to come.

Eddie has a rough start to his morning, which isn’t new, but he tries to make the best of it, even if Riley is having none of it. She sobs most of the time spent getting dressed, not even allowing Eddie to touch her hair, leaving it a tangled mess atop her head. He’s learned to choose his battles, managing to get her ready and to school with enough time to spare that can allow him to drive to work without the constant worry of being late. 

When you spot him you can’t help but smile, less forced and a lot more genuine than most of the ones you gave. 

“Hard morning.” He mouths over Riley’s shoulder, her face tucked into his neck and arms wound tightly around it.

You frown in response, patting Riley’s back as he moves closer, “It’s okay, I hate Mondays too.” You tell her comfortingly. 

“Hey, kid—you’ve gotta let go.” He tells her softly, nudging her away from his neck, “I have to get to work and you have school.”

She doesn’t move—Eddie’s face falls, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. You hold up a finger to him, asking him to wait. He nods, slightly confused as you walk around him to his back, catching Riley’s gaze. She quickly hides her face, making a small noise.

“Tell you what,” You start, crossing your arms over your chest, “if you let go of your daddy now, I can probably have your hair braided before class starts.”

She peaks her head up slowly and you know you’ve got her attention.

“Daddy, I want down.” She tells him and Eddie scoffs lightly.

“How?” Eddie asks you with a look of disbelief, placing Riley on the floor. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve been struggling with her all morning.”

“She probably senses your frustration.” You tell him honestly.

Eddie never took his own emotions into account, looking down at Riley, her hand still latched into his. 

“Besides, kids are complex but really simple,” You kneel down to Riley’s level, grabbing a single stray curl, “they all want, you just have to figure out what it is.”

“I tried touching her hair,” Eddie defends, “she wasn’t having it.”

“Because daddy makes my hair look ugly.” Riley complains softly, staring up at you with earnest eyes. You laugh to yourself, patting her hand and letting her curl her fingers around your palm. 

You look up at Eddie with a sad smile, sending his rapidly growing frustration, nodding at him slightly. “Go—it’s okay.”

He scratches at his forehead, feeling horrible for wanting nothing more than to leave immediately. He prides himself on being able to handle himself well under stress, anger—every god awful emotion imaginable, but he needed a break, even if that meant leaving without a proper goodbye. 

Besides, you did a perfect job at distracting Riley, playing with the ends of her hair as you asked, “One braid or two?”

“Two.” She smiles, bouncing on her heels. “Please?”

“You got it, babe.” You tell her.

You’ve experienced connections with kids before, some stronger than others, but nothing like with Riley. It was hard to comprehend, or fully imagine was capable, but you’re happy to be there for any kid, however they needed you. 

The week remains meltdown free after that and Saturday rolls around quicker than you expect. When you arrive at Eddie’s trailer Riley is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s with my uncle.” Eddie explains. “He’s more like her grandpa—but yeah, he’s keeping her for the night.”

“Oh, okay.” You nod.

“I needed a break.” He admits without prompting, feeling the need to get it off his chest. 

“Look, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.” You tell him politely, “I’m not in any place to judge you.”

“I know—I just, nevermind—“ He laughs awkwardly, holding his hand out, “Mind if I drive?”

“Please?" You beg, slapping the keys into his open palm.

The drive is quiet and Eddie can’t be bothered to fill it, relishing in the silence and letting it settle. His hand grips the worn out steering wheel, rings cracking against the leather. He remembers the feeling faintly, the pull in his stomach from anxiety, the fluttering butterfly feeling of the unknown. It only happened once, with Riley’s mom.

It was their first date, a girl Eddie had met by chance at one of his shows at the Hideout—he never expected her to turn his life upside down, but she did.

It feels cheap, thinking this way—that the possibility of you and him having the same experience as he did several years ago could even be possible. He barely knew you, yet he could see it. He saw it then and he saw it now. Eddie’s never believed in soulmates or one true love’s—he still doesn't. But, he’s always believed in taking chances, even if things seemed slim to none. He pushes the thought aside for now, offering a tight smile to your warm one, pulling into the entrance to the shop.

He leaves for a brief moment, unlocking the side door to raise the garage and leave enough room to fit your car inside.

You hate how it feels like you’re back in high school again, sneaking into somewhere you shouldn’t, even though you knew this wasn’t illegal and Eddie worked there. It made you feel giddy—that same naive exuberance spreading throughout your body. 

When you’re finally inside and Eddie can start his work, it’s a waiting game. You wander around aimlessly, finally interrupted by Eddie’s voice, “We have a lobby if you want to sit down.” He offers, using the wrench to point in that direction. 

You shake your head, gradually walking to his side.

“Are you sure it’s safe to wear your rings while you’re doing this?” You ask, pointing at his hand.

“Yes,” He says with a laugh, “I’ve done it for a little over seven years and I’ve never been hurt before.”

Eddie catches your gaze, eyebrows pulling together.

“Would it make you feel better if I took them off?” Eddie asks in a slight teasing tone, a playful way of making fun of you. 

“No, no—I believe you—“ You tell him, but Eddie’s already removing them, placing them on the tray behind him. 

“Better to be safe than sorry, right?” He asks with a smirk, flipping the wrench between his fingers.

Showoff, your brain screams. “Yep.” You answer meekly. 

He leans over the hood, shirt riding up his back in the process, revealing an even larger ink than the one on his arm, you tilt your head and can’t help but stare, wondering what was underneath.

“Can you hand me a rag?” Eddie asks, his hand shooting behind him blindly—you don’t hear him immediately so he turns, catching where your gaze had been.

He smiles cautiously, glancing down at his chest.

“Were you—“ He points toward his back, aiming for his ass.

“No—no god, I was—I saw the tattoo on your back.” You stutter out, “I was just wondering what it was.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, lifting his shirt up with no warning, toned muscle and pale skin on display, a large intricate design of tree spreading from the side of his chest and over his right pectoral around to his back, covering a large percentage of it, “it’s not that interesting—but it’s a special one.”

“Can I ask why?”

It’s an innocent question, only wanting to understand him better.

“Uh—it’s a little silly, so don’t laugh.” Eddie prefaces, shifting his shirt back down. “I got it a couple years after I met Riley’s mom—she never like restaurants or fancy dates so we always ended up grabbing fast food and sitting out at the park under a tree.”

“That’s beautiful,” You say truthfully, “it’s beautiful.”

“It was, uh—before she passed,” Eddie clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his ear awkwardly, “anyways, it comforts Ri when she asks about her, all she really has is pictures. She’s still young though, so I try to answer questions when she has them.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, but you can tell Eddie doesn’t need to hear it. Still, he accepts it. 

“It’s been a while, I’ve processed it.” Eddie tells you, “I guess it’s my dedication to her and that I’ll always be there for Riley.”

“You’re a good dad,” You tell him, a hand placed on his fidgeting ones as he twisted the spark plug in his grip, “—but I don’t think that needs to be said.”

“Yeah, but shoving my kid off on my uncle isn’t very fatherly of me.” He says, deprecating himself. “Some days are just…rough.”

Eddie turns to finish up the job with a somber look, eyebrows pulled together in concentration, managing to replace your spark plugs with brand new ones without a problem before testing to make sure your car starts with ease. It does, thankfully.

“I have those days too,” You assure him, arms crossed casually over your chest, “I know it’s not the same but I understand, to some degree.”

Eddie makes a soft ‘pfft’ sound, pulling up the front of his shirt to wipe away the sweat and grime from his face.

“A classroom full of kids all day and no way to escape,” Eddie’s voice is muffled behind the cloth, “I’d lose my fucking mind.”

You stare selfishly, eyeing the small patch of hair that disappears under his belt, the other littering did tattoos on his chest—it should feel wrong, but it doesn’t settle the immense need and want you felt in the moment. 

Again, Eddie catches you.

You’re better at recovering this time, ignoring his pointed gaze and subtly raised eyebrow.

“I’m usually about ninety percent of the way there every day.” You admit sheepishly. 

“I know you’re probably going to say no, but do you want a beer?” Eddie asks, “I’ve got a few stashed in the fridge in my office.”

“Yeah, actually.” You reply and Eddie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth in an effort to suppress his smile, “I will.”

“Follow me.” Eddie instructs, nodding his head in the opposite direction. You follow closely behind his quick footsteps, failing to hear the, “Oh—but watch out for the tires—“

Your feet slip out from under you and you fully prepare your face to hit the concrete, but it never does. 

“Holy shit,” You gasp, “this place is like a death trap.”

Eddie chuckles loudly at that, the arms that squeezed you tight to keep you from falling finally pulling you up. 

“That’s my fault,” Eddie admits, “I forgot to put them away yesterday.”

You sigh shakily, staring up at Eddie. “Once my heart stops pounding out my chest I’ll be okay.”

“Sorry.” Eddie offers a weary smile, shifting you in front of him rather than letting you trail behind. “It’s on your left, yep—and the light switch is on—nevermind, you got it.”

You laugh under your breath, scooting forward as Eddie slipped in behind you, fetching the two bottles from the fridge and slamming them on the edge of the desk, subsequently popping the caps off. You stare on with a dazed astonishment.

“No bottle opener.” He offers humorously, handing you one of the bottles. You take it from his hand, regardless of how dirty it may be from his hands that were still horribly messy.

You take a seat on the edge of the old desk, legs crossed at your ankles as you sipped at the beer. “So, how much do I owe you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about—“

“Eddie.”

“I’m not joking.”

You roll your eyes, pulling a small wad of cash out of your front pocket—it was around a hundred bucks, since you weren’t sure how expensive those parts actually were. 

“Take it.” You say, shoving the money at his chest.

“No.” He answers adamantly, pushing your hand away.

“At least let me pay for the parts?”

Eddie says your name once, full tone and leaving no room for argument. “I meant it, you’ve done enough to help me out, let me repay the favor.”

“It’s my job, Eddie.” You retort, a tinge of annoyance in your tone. 

“And this is mine.” He tells you. “So get over it—I’m not accepting your money.”

“You’re so infuriating.” You complain with heartfelt irritation, shoving the money back into your pocket. Eddie rolls his eyes just as enthusiastically, shifting from his spot on the wall until he’s lingering in the space between, still a comfortable few feet away.

Eddie chugs the beer like nothing while you continue to nurse yours, only taking a few measly sips. 

“The ring,” Eddie asks suddenly, “you said you got it as a gift for finishing school?”

And maybe he’s just trying to start friendly conversation—but you’re not sure if you should lie again, or tell him the truth. You set the beer down, twisting the jewelry over your finger. You never talked about how it came about or the history behind it. It had always been a secret for you and you only. Unlike Eddie, you didn’t process death as easily. 

“That was a lie,” You tell him honestly, extending the moment of sincerity you had with him earlier, “can I trust you with something and swear you’ll never repeat it back to anyone—even me?”

Eddie makes an odd face, trying to decipher your choice of wording. But, he nods.

“I got pregnant during my final year of college,” You start, the words hitting harder than you expect, but you swallow the painful lump in your throat, “she was due in December of that year, but I had a stillborn around six months.”

Eddie’s expression quickly shifts, eyes flicking down toward the floor.

“It’s her birthstone—“ You say, holding out your hand weakly as Eddie reaches for it, looking at the stone embedded in the silver, “she probably would’ve been around the same age as your daughter.”

Eddie says your name tenderly, fingers still lingering on the underside of your palm, “I’m so sorry.”

You laugh softly, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyways, everything happens for a reason, right? I guess it’s just a small way to remember her.”

Eddie hates how well he can relate to it. 

“Are you done?” He asks, reaching for your beer.

“Uh, yeah.” You respond slowly, forcing yourself to take a breath. “Thanks.”

The walk to your car is even slower, quiet, whatever happier mood that lingered earlier was nowhere in sight. You blame yourself for bringing the mood down, trying to find someone to lighten it. But, Eddie’s quicker than you, and throwing you a curveball from miles away.

“Can I take you out?” Eddie asks boldly, “On a proper date, I mean.”

“Um,” You linger on the word, standing uneasy as you lean against your car door, “—Eddie, we probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” Eddie asks, headstrong like his daughter unfortunately.

“Things can get…complicated.” You tell him, “I don’t want Riley getting the wrong idea.”

“Fine, not a date then.” Eddie levels.

“Then what?”

“We can hang out.”

Suddenly it’s like you’re eighteen again and you can’t help but want to go against every moral set before you. 

“Hang out,” The words feel weird on your tongue, “Eddie—you do know what that usually entails, right?”

“Hey, I’m a complete gentleman, okay?” Eddie defends, “That’s why I asked you on a date.”

Your lips pull together in a tight line, hating yourself for wanting to say yes so badly. 

Eddie pulls that salaciously sweet grin of his, hands placed on either side of the top of your car, breath quickening as he pulls a bit closer, still giving you enough room to feel comfortable. 

“Tell me no then,” Eddie challenges, “just say the word and I’ll drop it.”

Eddie can see it in your face, how badly you wanted to cave and say yes. 

“Eddie.” You warn, the name sounding too wicked on your tongue. “Please.”

You’re not sure what you’re begging for. 

“Fine,” Eddie tells you lowly, eyes connecting with yours when they try to pull away, “—but let me do this one thing and then if you want to change your mind, we can forget about this.”

“What thing?” You retort back with attitude, conflicting emotions causing you to play into his game, whatever it was.

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m gonna kiss you.” He tells you openly, “After that, if you change your mind, that’s fine.”

You find yourself nodding without fully realizing and Eddie’s lips are against yours in a slow press, not hurried or rushed, a small noise pulled from your lips as he pushes further, lips smacking against yours loudly. You inhale sharply, the scent of Eddie surrounding you—it was sweat and cigarettes and everything that would normally disgust you in an instant, but with Eddie it was intoxicating. Your hands drift to his face carefully, thumbs dragging along his cheeks gently, pulling up to wrap your arms around his neck, fully giving yourself over to him, allowing yourself to cherish the moment properly. 

Eddie muffled a soft laugh against your lips, a hand cupping the side of your face out of curiosity, wanting to touch you as much as he possibly could while still trying to be respectful to you. Eddie seems to forget how dirty he is though, because when he does finally pull away, he’s laughing again. 

“Fuck, I forgot,” He says, reaching for the clean handkerchief in his back pocket, wiping the dark mark off of your face, “sorry.”

“You apologize too much.” You tell him, shoving his hand away playfully. “—I will, by the way.”

Eddie beams at the answer, “I fucking knew it.”

“Hey—no gloating,” You warn him and Eddie shrinks slightly, it was a wonder what a stern voice could do, and you’d mastered that pretty well in the past few years, “we need to be careful about this—whatever this is.”

Eddie nods, “Yeah, of course.”

“Riley can’t know, my job—no one.” You tell him. “If this is just a one time thing, I don’t want it ruining anything.”

And Eddie should feel slighted, but he does understand.

“It won’t.” He assures you and you hate how easily it makes you smile.

You both knew there was no possible way this was going to be a one time thing. You’d be lying to yourself. 

“Good.” You smile triumphantly, “Now—are you driving or am I?” 

Eddie snatches the keys from your hands with an eye roll and a self-righteous smirk.

There was never a way for you to realize just how much trouble you were getting yourself into, not yet. 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #my writing #1kfic

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙳

description: In which chloe kelly's girlfriend is giving all she's got at the world championships of Athletics 2023 - especially after being so close to gold last year

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

chloe kelly x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously, i am in no way saying chloe is bi-sexual or gay!

warnings: language, cuteness, slightly suggestive

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted

liked by, chloekelly, bun_bun10 and 1.3 million others

y/n Smiles and Sands :)

view all 389, 283 comments

username1: BODYYYYY 🔥🔥

^

username2: 🫣🫣

username3: so excited to see you jump!!!!! 👏👏

username4: COME ON Y/N!! ❤️

username5: ❤️🔥

username6: will the author respect anyone who gets the reference of the post's caption??

^

username7: yeah I think so ;))

chloekelly: babyyyyyy 😩

^

y/n: my loveeeeee 😏

^

chloekelly: killing me here! 😫😫

^

y/n: get your ass to Budapest then! 😚

bun_bun10: Go y/n!! 🩵

^

y/n: love ya! 🩵

lauren_hemp: wooooo! goooo y/n!!

^

y/n: 🩵

username8: forgot how much the man city team love her lmao!

alexgreenwood5: 🩵🩵

^

y/n: 🩵🩵

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

chloekelly just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted on their story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

bun_bun10 just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

twitter/X

username1: ITS SO FCKING CUTE - CHLOE AND HALF THE MAN CITY TEAM + ALL OF THE LIONESSES ARE IN BUDAPEST RN !!! 😭😭😭

username2: chloe's shirt of 'y/n's my girlfriend' 🥺🥺

username3: throwback to y/n wearing her shirt and screaming in the WWC crowd! 😂

username4: every time the camera zooms back in the crowd to the players the cheers and then the commentators trying not to laugh! 😂🥺

username5: y/n's first jump is up next - I'm so nervous for her!!

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n let out a sigh as she stared down the ramp, her lover was watching her with quiet breaths, barely feet apart as the rest of her friends and teammates quietened.

The stadium was silent for a moment, before y/n's hand's clapped, the audience copied and she did it again, and the stadium now boomed with rhythmic claps.

y/n's feet took off, her legs pounding against the track. She was 5ft 9, short for a long jumper, but she was quick, and light and as y/n's foot hit the board, she flung herself forward.

Her legs piked as she pushed her hips forward her body travelling as she was pushed down by gravity, landing on the sand below. She jolted as she landed but instantly stood up and rolled off.

She looked at the measurement, waiting for the green light of valid to appear, which it did. y/n shouted in happiness looking over to her coach who nodded as she moved over to wait for the measurement.

"7.17." The voice called.

y/n screamed in relief, hands flying to her head as she realises the record she had broken in her first jump, the British record. Her competitors all paled at the large first jump but patted her on the back none-the-less.

"Go on kid." The accent of Tara said as she patted the girl on the back and y/n grinned at her. "Got sick of coming second aye?" The American joked and y/n laughed.

y/n moved to the crowd, leaning into her lover who lent over the barrier and whispered words of calming encouragement in her ear as the rest queued up to jump.

Pats on y/n's back from Lauren, Georgia, Leah, and Keira echoed as she and Chloe pulled away. The blonde pressing a kiss to her lover's cheek.

"Jump harder." Lucy said as she and her close friend did their usual handshake.

"Always." y/n grinned as she went to take her seat and prepare for her second jump.

y/n's second jump was 7.15, her third, 7.16. None as good as her first and yet somehow, all still winning jumps. Tara and Ivana followed her into the top three, and at their last jump, the three were proud of what had been done.

SB and PB's had been set and Ivana was at 7.14 and massive jump for the young girl. y/n had to push, use up all she had. She started the clap once more.

She waited, then she threw her arms down, silence echoing the stadium as she then raced down the track, the sound of her foot hitting the board echoed and she leaped.

y/n hit the ground hard and rolled, her hips groaning as she covered herself in the sand, hoping praying as the green light lit up and she gingerly stumbled off the sand.

"7.30." The call ran out.

y/n's head snapped back, her body buckling as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. Screams echoed as Tara groaned aloud, knowing she nor Ivana were going to beat that.

Chloe screamed for her lover as y/n grinned at the crowd, shouting in what she knew was a sure victory. And after Tara had jumped and her gold was confirmed, y/n screamed once more.

The gold which had avoided her so long, which had always slipped from her grasp from a last ditch effort or harsh injury, finally she had it, she had the title which had evaded her. World Champion.

Chloe jumped the barrier, y/n grinning as she caught the blonde who wrapped her legs around her waist. y/n grinned up at her before the blonde lent down and pecked her lips.

"Proud of you." Chloe mumbled into her shoulder as y/n walked her back to the stands, her hands firmly on Chloe's thighs keeping the blonde wrapped in her.

"Couldn't have done it without you lovely." y/n promised her as she placed her back over the barrier. They pulled away and Chloe suddenly groaned.

"I'm covered in sand!" She protests and y/n chuckles as the blonde tries to shake it off, and shake it at a laughing Bunny who shrieks and scrambles away

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

chloekelly just posted

liked by, bun_bun10, leahwilliamsonn and 654, 222 others

tagged y/n

chloekelly my baby's got a gold medal... what's yours got?

view 109, 236 comments

username1: they're so cute my heart! 🥺🥺

username2: the way she shouted in victory had me sobbing 😭

^

username3: Chloe's face as well 😭

^

username4: all of their faces

^

username5: her falling to her knees - I CANT 😭😭

lucybronze: we are all very proud of her! 🩵

^

chloekelly: that we are! 😭❤️

^

y/n: ily both sm omg ❤️

stanwaygeorgia: I think I could do it tbf 🤷‍♀️

^

y/n: I'll throw you that far stfu 🙄

bun_bun10: Chloe got me sandy :(

^

chloekelly: ooops …

^

username6: hahahahahahaha 😂

leahwilliamsonn: I don't get how your legs move like that tho 🧐🧐

^

y/n: fold like a deckchair - like you when you had that ninth drink at Maisy's! 😝

^

leahwilliamsonn: istg ! 🙄

lauren_hemp: WOOOOOOOO!

^

y/n: WOOOOOOO

y/n: ily baby <3 sm

^

chloekelly: ily more!

^

lucybronze: 🤢🤢

^

keirawalsh: LUCY!

see more comments...

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

y/n just posted on their story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

chloekelly just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

lucybronze just posted on her story

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

END

fun one on this one boysssssss

I used to b cracking at Long Jump cannae lie

-

queenie xox

#woso #social media woso #woso x reader #woso x y/n #woso community #woso soccer #england lionesses #lauren hemp #keira walsh #lauren james #leah williamson #chloe kelly #mary earps #barclays wsl #england wnt #chloe kelly imagine #chloe kelly x reader #chloe kelly one-shot #chloe kelly x y/n #bunny shaw #man city women #man city wfc #world athletics #budapest 2023 #long jump reader

[weemssapphic]

What about Larissa taking the reader to a pumpkin patch and they just have fun all day and get apple cider and pumpkin spice donuts!! And then they get home and put on a horror flic, and the reader swears they aren’t scared but they can’t fool Larissa at all, so she puts something else on? 😋😋I thought it was such a good idea and I would have done something like this myself but you are such a talented writer, I would love to see something like this from you!

A/N: Hello hello! Thank you so so much 🥺 that is very sweet. I thought this would be appropriate for October so I tried to get it done in a timely fashion. I really hope you enjoy 🥺 also... happy Friday the 13th! 👻

we fell in love in october

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Larissa takes you on a sweet autumn date to a pumpkin patch - fluff ensues.

Words: ~2.9k | ao3 link in title

Leaves fell from the tree outside the window, hues of brown, deep red, muted orange coloring the evening sky in their descent. Blown away by a crisp breeze that carried the sounds of students laughing and chatting on their way inside for dinner as the sky slowly turned darker, dusk settling over Nevermore Academy.

The crackling of the fireplace and the clacking of Larissa’s keyboard served as background noise as you lounged on the couch in your girlfriend’s office, engrossed in your copy of Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. You and Larissa had been together for a few months now, and it had turned into an unspoken ritual that you would pop by after work more afternoons than not to keep Larissa company as she finished up her emails, before sharing a glass of wine and some takeout and basking in each other’s company.

Today was no different. Your ears perked up when you heard the tell-tale sound of Larissa’s laptop shutting, and you set your book aside as you heard her footsteps approach. Within moments she came into view, rounding the couch and placing two fingers under your chin to gently lift your head towards hers. Soft, warm lips pressed against your own, and you could feel her smile into the kiss as she soothed her tongue along the seam of your lips. You parted them to allow her to lick gently into your mouth, sighing as her tongue began to dance with yours, every movement languid and loving.

“Hello, darling. Thank you for waiting for me,” she whispered against your lips as the two of you parted for air - you would never tire of her dulcet tones, her voice like music to your ears.

“Hi,” you said with a grin, patting the space next to you. Larissa sat down and you immediately snuggled into her, allowing her to wrap her arms around your waist and rest her chin on your head. “You’re done with work?”

“I’m all yours,” Larissa replied with a chuckle, pressing her lips to your temple - it made you shiver.

“Mmh… Do you think you could be all mine on Friday as well?” You bit your lip, watching Larissa carefully - in spite of her constant reassurance that she enjoyed spending time with you, you still sometimes felt like you were asking a lot. You knew how seriously the principal took her work, but you’d come up with the best date idea and it would be a shame to let the opportunity pass you by.

To your relief, Larissa’s face lit up with a teasing smirk. “I think I could be,” she purred. “Did you have something planned for Friday?”

“Well… This Friday is Friday the 13th… And it’s October! That’s kind of a special occasion. So I was thinking we could maybe go to a pumpkin patch together and have a date-day?” You looked up at Larissa through your lashes with your best pleading pout, watching her lips curl slowly into a soft smile.

“Hmmm,” Larissa hummed, tapping a manicured finger against her chin in thought. “What do you say I work a half-day on Friday and pick you up around noon?”

“Really?” You could feel your limbs start to tingle with excitement. “Can we?”

“Of course,” Larissa said with a chuckle, cupping your cheek. “There’s a little farm near Jericho that has a pumpkin patch around this time of year. I haven’t been but I have heard quite a few students rave about it.”

“Deal,” you said, your words turning into a squeal as Larissa began to pepper your face with kisses, before pressing her lips to yours. You melted into the kiss, as you always did, feeling her warm breath against your lips as she let out a contented sigh.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Friday morning was spent choosing an outfit - you settled on an orange knit sweater, jeans, and loafers, and took to lounging around as you waited for Larissa to pick you up.

She was, of course, punctual as always - the doorbell rang at 12 on the dot, and you shot up from the couch to answer the door.

Larissa greeted you with a soft, gentle kiss, one hand settling on your hip. “You look beautiful. Are you ready to go, my love?”

Blushing at the compliment, you nodded. “Yep, I just need my keys.” You turned to grab your keys and your bag from the little table next to the door, and allowed Larissa to lead you out to her car with her hand on the small of your back.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Nothing in your life thus far could compare to the feeling of holding Larissa’s hand in public. Her fingers curled around your own, her warm palm fitting perfectly against yours like a puzzle piece. Today was no different as the two of you ambled hand in hand towards the little farm, only briefly letting go so you could pay for your entry. 

“I don’t think I’ve done something like this since I was a teenager.” Larissa sighed wistfully as she looked around, her lips curled up into a soft smile.

“It’s beautiful here,” you breathed, taking in your surroundings.

The highlight of the festival was, of course, the farm’s pumpkin patch - massive orange, white, even green pumpkins nestled amongst bales of hay - resting against the backdrop of a picturesque forest, with leaves turned brown and orange. Across from the pumpkin patch was a corn maze - you could hear the giggles and screams of children flitting between the corn stalks. 

“Are we gonna carve pumpkins for Halloween this year?” you asked suddenly.

Larissa’s face broke out into a splitting grin. “I would love that,” she admitted. “Would you like to pick some?��

You nodded eagerly, spending the better part of the next half hour roaming through the pumpkin patch, picking up various pumpkins and handing them off to Larissa for inspection. She watched the entire time with an amused grin on her face, finally helping you settle on not two but four medium-sized, orange pumpkins (one for each of you, and then extras in case you messed up). 

After helping you carry the pumpkins to her car, Larissa nudged you and pointed to a small, fenced in area in the distance. “I think they have a petting zoo.”

You could hardly contain the squeal of delight that left your throat at the mere thought, and you dragged Larissa over to the petting zoo.

“Oh, look, you can feed them!” You pointed to the little machines with animal feed, making your way over and purchasing a cupful. The alpacas situated nearest you began to flock around the fence, sticking their head over the top and eyeing you eagerly. 

“You wanna try?” you asked, offering the cup to Larissa - she removed her glove and reached out her hand for you to pour a bit of the food in her waiting palm. She stepped up to the fence, glancing nervously in your direction as she stuck out her hand. Her face contorted in surprise as one of the alpacas began to nuzzle her palm, inhaling the feed within seconds.

“It tickles,” she said, quickly retracting her palm as you began to laugh.

“Here, let me try.” You poured some feed in your hand and offered it to a different alpaca, gasping and jumping back a bit. “Shit, you’re right, it does tickle,” you said with a giggle, shaking your hand to get rid of the funny feeling.

“How about we see the goats instead?” you suggested. With a reproachful glance at the alpacas, still gathered around the fence and staring the two of you down, Larissa agreed and followed you to the goat’s pen. There was a little latched door in the fence and you let yourself in, Larissa following behind you - albeit somewhat reluctantly. 

The goats could smell the food in your cup and some ambled over immediately. You leant down towards a small goat with a black head and white legs, offering it a handful of feed. It felt much less ticklish than feeding the alpacas, and you handed Larissa the cup so that you could use your other hand to gently pet the goats.

Larissa watched you fondly, holding the cup of feed just out of reach of the eager animals.

“You’re cute, you know that?” she murmured. You looked up, blushing profusely and smiling shyly. 

“Give me your hand.” You reached out and Larissa placed her hand in yours, cocking her head and watching with wide, curious eyes as you rested her hand on the goat’s back, holding it as you guided her to stroke its fur. 

Larissa’s gaze never left your face, her eyes sparkling with admiration, watching you delight in being able to pet the animals. It wasn’t her favorite pastime in the world, but getting to see you so joyful was more than enough for her to be having a good time.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

“Let’s go sit down for a bit,” Larissa suggested, giving your hand a squeeze before gently tugging you in the direction of a couple of wooden stands in the distance. 

You agreed, and the two of you came to a stop in front of a stand selling apple cider.

“Would you like some?” Larissa asked, already reaching for her purse.

“Is that even a question?” you teased.

Larissa paid for your drinks and the two of you took a seat at a wooden picnic table nearby. You took a sip of the warm apple cider, moaning as the taste exploded on your tongue, and Larissa raised an eyebrow at you.

“What? Does that turn you on?” you purred, taking another sip and moaning even louder this time. Larissa laughed and shook her head, a blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“Hush and drink up,” she murmured.

Your eyes scanned the area you were sitting in, lighting up as they landed on a donut stand. “Riss, do you want a donut?”

Larissa nodded between sips of apple cider.

“What kind?”

“You pick.”

You ambled over to the donut stand, returning a few minutes later with two pumpkin spice donuts and handing one to your girlfriend, before settling on the bench across from her.

“Of course you would get pumpkin spice,” Larissa teased, chuckling as she accepted the donut from you.

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” you said with a laugh.

Larissa huffed, taking a bite of the donut regardless and letting out a moan of her own - you began to laugh harder and Larissa joined in, her eyes crinkling at the outer edges and her face scrunching up in glee. 

The two of you ate in amicable silence, savoring the donuts and each other’s presence and basking in a surprisingly warm fall day.

“Maybe we could go on the hayride before we go home?” you suggested shyly as Larissa placed the last piece of her donut into her mouth. Her eyes went wide and she nodded, her cheeks puffed out with food. You laughed and Larissa’s face turned pink as she swallowed.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, you’re just very adorable,” you said with a grin, earning you an eye roll and a light, playful slap from your girlfriend. She always said she hated when you called her adorable, but she would blush and smile every single time, so you would keep doing it. 

“Call me adorable again and we aren’t going on that hayride,” she mumbled with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling in the low light of the afternoon sun.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in a wagon with Larissa to your left, the sun slowly beginning its descent in the sky and casting a golden glow over the blonde. Your surroundings were picturesque, but all you could focus on was the stunning woman next to you. It seemed your sentiments were returned, for Larissa’s eyes - flooded with warmth and affection - never left your own. Her right arm was wrapped snugly around your shoulders as her left hand rested on your thigh, her thumb rubbing absentminded circles over your jeans. 

“Rissa?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I love you.”

A beaming smile spread across the blonde’s face and she ducked her head, leaning in until her lips were inches away from yours. “I love you, too,” she whispered against your lips, before closing the gap to kiss you. The kiss was soft, and tender - it made your heart flutter and your stomach flip as the last rays of the sun enveloped the two of you in a warm glow.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

“Can we watch a horror movie?” you asked as you stepped through the threshold of Larissa’s apartment after the short drive back from the pumpkin patch. The two of you left the pumpkins outside the door for later.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at you, her expression nothing short of skeptical as she slipped out of her heels and removed her coat. “Are you sure? Don’t you remember what happened the last time we watched a horror movie together?”

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re talking about,” you replied airily, kicking off your shoes and tossing your bag on the floor. Of course you knew what she was talking about - you’d gotten so panicked that, during one particularly gruesome jump-scare, you’d thrown the popcorn bowl at the tv. Larissa had found stray pieces of popcorn underneath her couch for weeks after.

“Whatever you want, my dear,” Larissa said with a teasing grin, pressing a kiss to your forehead, before ushering you in the direction of her bedroom. “Let’s get changed first, hmm?”

Being that you spent so much time at Larissa’s, you had a few spare changes of clothes for when you’d spontaneously decide to stay the night - but you still preferred to wear your girlfriend’s clothes whenever possible. They smelled like her, and they were big and soft and somehow just way comfier than your own.

Tonight, you opted for a pair of leggings and an old t-shirt of Larissa’s, while she went for a sage green, silk camisole top and a white cardigan, paired with matching sweatpants. Larissa stepped behind you as you got changed, helping you pull the t-shirt over your head - you shivered as her fingers brushed teasingly down your abdomen, before splaying out over your stomach and pulling you flush against her.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered softly into your hair, pressing her lips to the crown of your head. You could feel yourself blush and you spun around in her arms, wrapping your own arms around her neck and pulling her in for a languid kiss. 

Larissa reached around you, flicking off the light in her bedroom and guiding you back out into the living room, her lips still pressed against yours until the backs of your knees hit the couch.

“Hot chocolate?” she breathed against your lips.

You nodded gratefully, curling up on the couch as Larissa disappeared into the kitchen - returning shortly after with two mugs of hot chocolate.

“Would you like anything else?”

“Nope, thanks.” You accepted one of the mugs - it warmed your hands, and the huge pile of marshmallows on top made you giggle.

Larissa settled beside you, wrapping an arm securely around your shoulders and pulling you into her. “Is The Conjuring alright?” she asked as she began to flick through Netflix. 

“Yes! I love Vera Farmiga!”

Larissa chuckled and pressed play, wiggling her hips a bit to get comfy.

You tried to be brave, you really did. But every slight change in the music made your muscles tense, your entire body flinching so bad that you had to place your mug on the coffee table.

“Are you alright, dove?” Larissa whispered, directly into your ear - you hadn’t expected it and you jumped in surprise, your heart pounding viciously. When you turned your head to look at your girlfriend, she was smirking, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked. 

Larissa knew you like she knew the back of her own hand - somehow, she’d been able to read you like a book from day one. She snorted and set her own mug down, pausing the movie and wrapping both arms around your waist. You melted into her touch immediately - warm, comforting, safe. Your heartbeat began to slow and you let out a nervous giggle. “Okay, I’m not fine. But we can keep watching it if you want!”

“Hmm… I think I’d rather you feel comfortable with what we watch.” Larissa pressed her lips to yours, her hands stroking up and down your sides. “How about we put something else on?”

Biting your lip, you nodded and accepted the remote from Larissa. Some dumb, silly comedy like The Heat would be good, you thought.

“Come here,” Larissa murmured, patting her lap. You curled up on the couch, resting your head on her thighs. Her hand immediately settled on your head and began to stroke your hair, her nails lightly scratching at your scalp and making you shiver.

“Sorry,” you whispered timidly, peeking up at Larissa through your lashes.

Larissa looked down at you with a confused smile, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead. “Sorry for what, darling?”

“Suggesting we watch a scary movie and not being able to finish it.” You felt your cheeks flush and hid your face in her lap - then you felt Larissa’s lips on your head. “That’s not something you need to apologize for. I promise.”

You peeked up again to see Larissa beaming lovingly down at you, and you sighed in relief, snuggling closer and allowing her to continue stroking your hair as the two of you watched the movie. The perfect ending to a perfect day.

x

-> some activities (HELLO, PETTING ZOO, ANYONE?) based super loosely on a fall festival/pumpkin patch I visited in 2019 with my best friend, near Nashville, TN - one of my fondest memories! hmu if you want to see a picture of me with a goat <3

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @syrenacrainn @m-0-mmy-l-0-ver33 @mysaviorfalsegod @thesamesweetie @theonefairygodmother @lvinhs @rainbow-hedgehog @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @catechristiesstuff @im-a-carnivorous-plant @milfomaniac @sapphos-ode @mrs.prentiss @ilovetlcc @toutoubum @lesbiahonest24 @wastdstime @gwens0girl @larissa-weems-chokehold @ladylarissaweems @makemyworldworthliving

Join my taglist here!

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

SNAIL & THRUSH (II)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER III ||

PAIRING: Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 8.4k

WARNINGS: Angst, self destructive tendencies, insinuations of PTSD, talks of death, thoughts of violence, banter but it’s more just straight up attacks

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

“Can you—” An aggressive sigh sounds out over the air as your fast-walking form continues on; the earth molding to your shoes. “The area isn’t locked down this far out, Ma’am. Can you just get in the bloody car, please?”

Your eyes stare straight ahead, half-lidded, and could probably melt a sheet of metal if they had to. 

Not answering, you continue to walk back into town, ignoring Gaz entirely as he attempts to coax you into the large car he’s driving. The window is down, his accented voice hitting your ears and bouncing off the invisible barrier you had put there to block out his prattle about a mile back. 

You utterly refuse to enter the vehicle, even if you were already as tired as a marathon runner. The person driving followed you at a snail’s pace at his wit's end.

Stepping on gravel that crunches under your weight, your fists swing clenched beside you in small clipped arches. If volatile had a picture attached to the definition page, it would be you.

Not only had you figured out Samson Row was dead before you could kill him yourself, but now you had to deal with weapon and drug lords who had it out for you and your mother.

Under your breath, quick worded mumbles are missed over the car’s engine, the slow forward motion of tires that stir the dust and leaves you blinking quickly. 

You’d both been at this ever since you’d forced your way out of the garage back on Base and had restrained yourself from making a scene because they had refused to give you your laptop back.

“Protection detail,” your lips curl, thinking over Laswell’s clipped sentences. “Like I want your help after all of this. Just open your home, why don’t you?” Sarcastic flails of your hands leave Gaz groaning and rolling his eyes at the childish scene, a hand going to rub over his neck soothingly. The attempt to bring clarity back to himself only barely works. “Just accept that we can’t keep our own operatives on a leash—but here! Just take the one that forced you into the back of a van and put a revolver to your forehead—God!”

“Are you done out there yet?” Kyle calls, single grip over his hat as he glares out the windshield, no longer wanting to look at you as your teeth bare else he’d get to the end of his rope before he even started climbing. “Bit of a walk back to town, y’know. Not exactly how I’d want to spend my morning, copy?” He mutters the last sentence under his breath. 

Don’t want to spend any bloody mornings like this.

“If you tell me one more time to get into the car,” you level as you crush a weed in your way, “I’m sprinting off into the field and making you run after me.” 

A long scoff and an exasperated shake of his head later, Gaz is growling an acknowledgment; tapping his fingers over the wheel. Did you not understand the severity of the situation? Hell, it was like you didn’t even care! This was his job, and he took it very seriously. There was no room for fuck-ups.

The car continues to waste gas and slug along, even if the Brit wanted to hop out and drag you into it like the stubborn brat you were acting like. 

“How many years overseas?” He asks himself as your form stomps farther away before he presses his foot to the gas lightly and hears the gears squeak. He pulls up beside you moments later, lips tight. “Fuckin’ hell mate. Have a go at this.”

“I can hear you, idiot.” Your voice sounds off, face turning slightly his way. The mid-morning sun was warm, but the breeze from the not-so-far-off Lake Michigan was a welcome feeling as it went over heated skin. “Talk quieter so I don't have to.”

Kyle didn’t understand how you could wear that thick jacket, though. It was slightly chilly, sure, but not that bad out. But he certainly wasn’t going to ask. Not when you were acting like you were going to shank him in the kneecap for breathing in your direction.

“Brilliant.” He spreads his digits from where they curl over the steering wheel, shrugging his shoulders to himself mockingly. “Anything else I should know, Ma’am?” 

Drive into a tree, you want to snap, but refrain. Even if seeing the Brit’s eyes go small and jaw go tight was a smirk-inducing sight, what you wanted was silence. A silence that you would probably never get now that your house was being invaded without your say. 

At least it’s only him, trying to find light in the situation was your father’s specialty–not yours. Your body forces out a tight breath to calm down. Could you imagine what would have happened if Laswell had forced the one with the dead eyes to watch me? Ghost?

Your body shivers tightly. If Price was at the top of your list of people you feared, Ghost was second. You couldn’t stand to feel those blue orbs lock on you in the rear-view mirror when they’d brought you in. You already had enough ghosts living at the mansion, you didn't need another.

A few seconds later, the car beside you comes to a fast halt with a ruckus of crunching gravel. You hope for a moment the car will turn around and disappear into the background.

“...Y’know what, yeah? I’m solid walking.” The clashing of keys being ripped from an ignition makes you blink in horror, head whipping to the side to watch as the car door is shoved open. 

Sergeant Kyle’s tall form greets you as your legs stall, shock coating your lungs.

“The hel–” you stop your sharp tongue. Gritted words fall instead. “And what are you doing?”

Gaz’s body goes to the back of the car, popping open the trunk and throwing out bag after bag as your jaw drops. He grasps one of the largest—a duffel bag—and slings it over his back. Two more are taken in one hand as his muscles writhe, though it looked like the apparent weight doesn't bother him much. 

The Brit ignores you, striding past as his long fingers go to his right ear. 

“Actual this is Bravo 2-6, I’ll be needing a pickup for a vehicle about a mile down-road. Parked near the edge. You copy?” A pause as you watch him continue on, looking back and forth from the still metal to his clenched fist over the straps of his belongings. A small sound escapes your throat. “No,” Gaz huffs a stiff laugh in response to the conversation you can’t hear. Your ear tips burn. “No, there’s not a damn thing wrong with the bastard, believe it or not.” 

“Hey!” Calling loudly, you stare at the figure as it gradually gets farther away, feet spread apart and the air smelling of corroding anger saturated in lake water.

“Affirm, Actual. Will do.” Kyle smoothly utters, taking his hand off his earpiece and fixing the black cord that descends from it so it won’t get in the way of his shirt collar. 

Not thinking much of your absent footsteps, the Brit’s head tilts. His ball cap blocks out the sun from his eyes yet they still squint at your practically vibrating silhouette. 

“You coming then, Love? Long walk.” Your hands snap to your pockets, the one finding the small coin immediately and bringing it into a tight grip. Suddenly, Gaz’s dark Adam’s Apple was the most offensive sight you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Best get to it, then.”

You can no more say you were fighting off a string of curses more than you were struggling against the rampage of your heart. Kyle just turns back around with a small smirk growing at the apparent slackness of your jaw; brown eyes crinkling. His internal scoreboard marks a point under his name.

Staying stationary for a good minute, stance tight and mind running, Laswell's words come back to encompass your consciousness in between the seething hatred you hold as the two of you become more separated. The price on your head—the threats to your mother’s safety as well as yours. 

Your thighs tighten. 

For better or for worse, you had to stick close to Kyle for the simple fact that he knew more about this than you did. Trained to be a killer and not hesitant to pull the trigger of a gun for the sake of his precious orders. Even now your eyes snap to the open expanse of the military base’s outer fields; the long grass and the dark ruts in the dirt. Blinking, your tense feet slam the ground as you start forward begrudgingly.

Fine. I’m an adult. I can handle it. But…maybe getting in the car would have been better than walking beside him. Your jaw clenches, not willing to admit that small fact to the man ahead of you. 

“Do you get tired of being a piece of work?” You call loudly, catching up quickly at your pace as though the man was hanging back purposely, also knowledgeable of the situation. 

He couldn’t just abandon his charge.

Kyle glances at your side profile, quirking a dark brow and sloping his chin. Being this close to him made your nose scrunch at the smell of his cologne, the scent not unpleasant but ultimately still attached to him.

“Actually, Ma’am, I take it as a compliment. Means I’m doing my job.” A pause as he fixes the hold on his gear, grunting. Not able to help himself now that the opportunity presents itself. “Do you?” 

Keeping a wide berth between you too, your face tilts to the sky, finding the whizzing forms of water birds and growling like a dog choking on a bullet. The hatred in the air was palpable; none too eager for the job ahead. 

My protection detail, you send long glances at Kyle thinking over the title again, studying his strong back and the sharp stab of his nose as it twitches to the scent of native switchgrass seeds. Keeping your studious attention far away from his brown orbs, you peel at the sides of your nails inside your pockets. The person I need protection from is already right beside me. How ironic can my life get?

But you can’t really be surprised, after all, you had expected to see him and the others again someday. Just…not like this. In the ground would have been preferable.

As you both walk in a strangling silence, your thoughts go back to your mother; wondering if she would be okay. The woman was far more stubborn than even you—there were few things that pulled her away from her work in helping others. 

Taking one hand to itch at the skin under your left eye, you stifle a yawn. 

At most, you’d text each other perhaps once a month. Quick updates and brief conversations about the weather like strangers. You couldn't talk about your nightmares or your father even though she’d been informed about the accusations on her deceased husband. 

You didn’t know if the CIA agents had told her the specifics about how he died when they delivered a detailed condolence letter and forced signatures of silence. It would destroy her if they did. 

Maybe I’ll call her when I get my phone from my nightstand back home. 

You narrow your vision. An urge to hear your mom’s soothing voice hit you like an anvil. She couldn’t make this better, but she’d certainly be able to help. 

Gaz’s eyes rove and observe the land, his combat boots leaving prints behind him. But his inspections always lead him back to you. His charge. The phantom from his past that had never really been forgotten just pushed to the side in between missions. The girl who seemed to not give a damn that he was the only person able to keep her alive at this point.

The line on Kyle’s forehead deepens. 

Part of him was completely fine with keeping his voice in his throat; listening to the chatter of birds and the clink of his bags’ zippers as he carried the great weight of them with no complaint. Another piece, the loose, reliable, part of him that followed procedure was hesitant to try and articulate how dire this was out loud to you because that wasn’t how this usually went. 

The target on your back was no joke, even Laswell knew it. But the soldier carries the burden of detail. 

Would she take me seriously if I don’t try to tell her, is the question. The Sergeant makes a noise in the back of his throat.

First impressions are a lock and seal as he was sure you were well aware. 

His lips part, half a word formed before the skin gradually falls shut again. Kyle takes a glance at you once more, looking at your wound-tight form and the utter mental exhaustion on your face. Despite his reservations about you, a sliver of regret finds his heart.

You hadn’t asked for any of this, and while you weren’t giving him much slack, his dry sarcastic nature hadn’t helped either. The two of you were just good at making the other go insane, no matter how much time you did or didn’t spend together. 

Kyle would never admit it, but it slightly impressed him.

“Should be back in town near o-twelve-hundred.” He clears his throat, trying to lose the bleeding of his stoic words. Make them lighter; airier. Attempt to be cordial. “If we keep this pace, of course. Then I can set up and be out of your hair for a bit.” 

Your feet had come to a slow drag-legged stop. Gaz blinks, noticing from the corner of his vision, and does the same—his tightness immediately going to confusion. He looks around the area, though spots nothing out of the ordinary.

Hell, what did I say now? 

But he sees your distant gaze with a stilling of his facial features, gaze falling to what you were staring quite hard at. 

You blink down at the corpse near the side of the road. 

Its small body was covered in dirtied feathers; colors of orange, gray, black, and white speaking through despite the obvious decay. A beak so long it took up larger space than the skull. 

Belted Kingfisher. 

When an animal dies the eyes are always the first to go—maggots and flies, whatnot. Soft and squishy. You don’t know why, but looking down at that small, dead, bird you longed to know what its eyes had looked like. The color, the intelligent sheen of them. Now only a black eye socket gives its voided opinions like a mute judge. 

You’d spotted it quite by accident, just looking over the landscape as the Brit tried to speak to you. A breeze ruffles the feathers that are left over the frail being and you find for the first time in a long while your head is completely silent.

Your muscles loosen.

“...Ma’am?” 

Violently flinching, the brief contact to your shoulder is snapped back in an instant, Kyle going to splay the offending hand in a sign of no harm. Dark eyebrows tight. Taking down a full breath, you miss the concern in the Sergeant’s expression, the steady look. There’s a moment when the world holds its air; the animals nearby fall wholly still as the wind carries every unsaid word better than you can annunciate it. 

Your stomach rolls at the reminder of his touch, even through layers of clothes. Gaz murmurs a question of which you ignore.

Shoving past him, on your way past his tilted face you growl upwards, “Keep your hands off of me, Garrick.” 

You increase your walking speed, trying with all of your might to fight the impending explosion of anger and anxiety. It was like your hands wanted to grip him by his neck, shove him down to the floor and let him know what it felt like to hurt the way you do. For a moment glimpse the life draining from his amber optics.

But any sort of physical pain, or even death, could never amount to knowing what you’d gone through. Not to mention you’d probably get your ass handed to you in mere seconds. 

Staring after with wide, creased, eyes, the Brit waits for a moment before he looks down at the small bird carcass you were entranced by moments prior. 

His head tilts, lungs filling.

“...Poor bugger.” He frowns and observes the way you quickly walk on with emotion on his lips. Gaz sighs and shakes his head, raising a brow back down at the now-soulless body as the telltale signs of a migraine start to pulse. “Recon I’ll be ending up like you in a bit, Mate.” 

He catches up easily, even with the weight of his bags and you have to wonder how anyone thought that this was a good idea. 

The devil beside you walks so far removed from normal life that it astounds you, and the rest of the trip is stuck in an uncomfortable silence reserved for those who dislike one another. 

Town can’t come soon enough, and you’re stopping at Hector’s Café along the way to your Estate. 

“It’s best to go straight back,” you thin your lips and slip into the building, the door creaking behind you as Gaz waits at the entrance. “I need to secure the property ASAP.” 

“You’ll get to wreck my home all you want in an hour.” Your backpack was on the main counter, and you walked to it slowly; drawing out the Sergeant's annoyance as much as you could. If you can’t hurt him physically at the moment, mentally was just as good a substitute. “I need my backpack.”

“Oh, you mean the one that left a dent in my skull.”

“Yes. I think I’ll end up keeping it as a family heirloom. Frame it maybe.”

“Ah, Lovely. Glad I can be a part of such a defining moment.” Strap in hand and a sarcastic retort on your breath, a great ruckus sound off from the backroom. 

Before you can react your jacket sleeve is being pulled sideways, a form shoving itself in between you and the kitchen door. Your eyes widen, feet stumbling to a stop before adrenaline stabs itself into your heart.

“Son of a bitch!” Rushing out, Hector wields a skillet in one hand—raised halfway above his head with a rabid snarl. “You!” He points it at Kyle, who has a small pistol gripped in his hands; bags haphazardly dropped back near the entrance. Your lips pull to a smirk when the Brit’s ready stance lessens. His wide shoulders lower like a dog’s neck fur. “You think I don’t know a government conspiracy when I see it! I lived in Jersey, motherfucker! What have you done with ‘er?” 

“Hector,” you peek over Garrick’s shoulder as the Sergeant spares you a look. “Easy with that, man….Aim for the throat, though, would you?” 

The skillet lowers, bright eyes landing on you while yours stick to his growing smile and twitching mustache. 

“Kid!” Loud laughs echo. “Holy hell, you scared the shit out ‘o me this morning. What was that all about?”

“Misunderstanding, Sir.” Gaz tries to explain, placing the pistol back into the belt of his pants as you clock it before stepping out from his shadow. It looked like an X12 to you. 

When did he get that, your eyebrows tighten and store that thought for later. There might be a chance to use that against him if you could get your hands on it.

The Café owner glares at the Sergeant as you fix the backpack strap over your shoulder. “Did I ask you, Son? I’m speakin’ to the lady.” 

“An Ex.” You lie smoothly, feeling Kyle’s shocked eyes on you instantly. Itching at the back of your neck, you feign embarrassment. “Cheated on me in high school. When he showed up, well…I did what I’d wanted to do for a while.”

Letting the sentence trail, you were excited for what came next. Genuine giddiness builds in your lungs; fighting a smile as the Brit stutters beside you. Gaz’s eyebrows pull up even higher.

“Cheated…” Hector’s accent becomes more prominent as you twist on a heel and begin heading to the door—only then do you anchor a hand to your mouth to stop the belly-deep laughter. “Oh, you’ve some nerve, showin’ back up, Son. How dare you make her see your face—!”

“Sir, I, bloody hell, I’m not—” Gaz grumbles, shooting heated glances at your disappearing form. “This isn’t….” Stuttering like a rookie. Everything in VIP Protection Training and his copious years in the army was pulling null. 

But no one was ever pulling his strings like you and it’s only been a few hours.

“See you, Hec!” 

“Hey! Come get this piece of trash out of my building.” Your face turns sideways, and Kyle notices the smirk immediately. His chest goes heavy with a wave of seething anger. 

“C’mon then, Kyle. You heard the man, didn’t you?”

If looks could melt people like gold, you would be a puddle of great Midas's curse before your skin hit the air outside, kicking the Sergeant’s bags away with a foot. 

Oh…she’s wicked, she is. The steps he takes are firm, a great cloud over his head as he re-situated his cap with taut fingers and grunts aggressively under his breath. Insulting him directly was one thing, but the chips at his character were cruel. Can I even do this? Hmm, Laswell might still be able to pull me out, let me join back up with the boys.

But everyone was counting on him for this and his stubborn side knew that he’d gone through far worse than a few verbal attacks. Physical strength was needed for this job, but many overlook the larger aspect. And if there was a single thing that Kyle Garrick was prideful about, it was his mental fortitude. Rare were the times that rigorous interrogation even put a dent into his psyche. 

“Just hold out,” he grumbles, ignoring the Cafe owner’s now-known disgust and picking up his bags. Gaz almost felt regretful for being so swift to place his body in front of a possible threat but scolded himself for thinking that immediately. This was his job. “She’s just scared, yeah? Doesn’t want to be around the bloke who,” he slightly cringes and lets the building’s front door close behind him, seeing your jacket ahead and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Who shoved her in a fucking van and put a gun to her head…Christ, Kate, what were you thinking assigning me to this?”

For the remainder of the small journey, Gaz stayed behind you, calming down as your enjoyment of his torment swiftly ended. Small victories weren't worth it, especially when the Brit says nothing in retaliation. Did your little dig at his character really insult him that much? It wasn’t the worst thing you had thought you could say. Not by a long shot.

Sure it seemed that you could piss him off, even if he never snapped and exploded with anger—he didn’t seem the type beyond back-handed comments—but if he didn’t respond it made no difference. 

You…you wanted to hurt him. Make Garrick suffer. You just didn’t know how to do it effectively, or if you could. Now you knew, though, that attacks on his person and morals were the way to go for quick results of muteness.

The iron gate of your home was up ahead, and with a delving of fingers, you produced a key from your back pocket, moving your wallet out of the way to grasp it firmly. 

I want them all to suffer. Your mind wanders as you twist the lock, hearing the metal shriek at you in figurative suffering. Blinking, the shadow behind you causes your body to be hyper-aware. A plan forms grimly, and you have to think if you even have the courage to try it. 

“Hm,” you huff, shoving open the gate and calling over your shoulder. “Close it behind you!” Tossing back the key. 

Kyle catches it, you know, because of the small thump of material meeting a ready palm. A moment later you’re walking through a path of weeds and overgrown bushes, eyes scanning the hedges blandly. You hear the gate close and a moment later, footsteps.

Gaz twirls the key in between his fingers, trying not to say something about the state of the place. But his brown vision roves from one area to another with muted shock.

Didn’t expect this.

Everything was falling into disrepair, even the gargantuan mansion of white and black coloring which normally would have been a grand sight to anyone with sense. Windows were all shut, the lawn looking more like a forest; the concrete underfoot was layered with dirt and insects—grass bleeding into the cracks. 

What should have been a multiple-million-dollar home was looking more like an abandoned lot. 

Kyle turns his confused stare to the back of your head, looking down at the key in hand. 

“Past its prime, I’ll say that.” He speaks to himself, keeping his manners despite the discourse between the two of you. 

It was one thing to bark back and forth like animals, but another to involve the place where one lives. But, your family was well off. There was no reason for it to look like this.

“Any staff I should be aware of, then?” he needs to ask as you ascend the front steps to the double doors. “Gardeners,” Garrick glances quickly at the greenery and coughs, “or, butlers, maids…anything like that” 

“Everyone quit because of the publicity.” Your voice is unusually distant, and you push aside a raggedy welcome mat to produce another key. This one is smaller and rustier, belonging to the main entrance. “Shocker, people didn’t like being harassed on their way to work by camera crews and news anchors. Didn’t hire after that.” 

Kyle’s feet shift, a strange feeling entering his skin as he blinks at you. 

You slip through the doorway first and immediately dart to the side table to the direct right—dropping your backpack dismissively with a quick, yet silent, slam. Heart jumping, your adrenaline spikes. 

Normally the small table would be reserved for purses and other small belongings, but before Gaz can come into the mansion you grab the slick body of a penknife and shove it into your sleeve with twitching fingers. Eyes snapping to the corners of the large foyer and looking over the gray walls and navy curtains. Creaking hardwood. 

“Nice place you got ‘ere,” Kyle tries to lighten the mood, if not for your stubborn sake than for his. Easier to get the job done if at least one person was willing to engage, and he’s willing to attempt it again. The bags in his hand are carefully placed down.

A hand snaps to your father’s gag and you yell when he rages, body shifting forward feebly before a shadow descends upon you. A swift force keeps you back, and your head snaps upwards. 

“Been in the family forever.” You slowly slip the blade out, trading weight from one hip to another and keeping it hidden. “Not really mine, at the end of the day.” 

The hand digs into your shoulder, forcing you to stay in your seat as your lips quiver. It’s not delicate, the hold, and when your eyes scrunch in pain, he somewhat lessons it though not enough to stop the sting. 

A slight relief at the non-confrontational action lets Gaz force out a chuckle. 

“Lots of places like that over in England—you have to wonder how they’re still standing, eh? Solid foundations.” A pause. “Proper interesting pieces of history.”

Never would the image of sepia-colored eyes like those leave you again. Inlaid in brown skin and below dark eyebrows.

You stop fidgeting, all thoughts for a moment stilling. What had he said? 

“You—” Stopping yourself, you turn and tilt your head in his direction, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he looks around the stairs to the second level and the small seating areas. Your voice echoes like it usually does; like a ghost unwilling to go to rest. Kyle closes the door behind him with one hand, only looking at you directly when it’s fully shut.

“What’s that, Love?”

Your feet rearrange over the rug.

“You’re…interested in that kind of stuff?” Kyle sees your hands clench but thinks nothing of it. His curiosity fills his lungs when he becomes familiar with the deadly expression on your face. 

The material of his clothes moves as he shrugs, turning his gaze away when he knows it makes you uncomfortable. Gaz wasn’t ignorant—he knew you didn’t like looking people in the eye. As his orbs find the dusty and dim chandelier hanging dangerously above them, he notices your eyes now settle back on him. 

“Not overly, but I can say History was one of my best subjects back in Secondary Education—erm,” his lips pull tight, a tiny pinch of a smirk on his face, “high school as you call it.”

You fiddle with the weapon secretly, unblinking vision stuck to Kyle’s feet. His comment made you think about the assignments you still had to complete for college; the papers to write. After all, if you flunked out of all the courses, you’d never be able to take your father's place at the museum. It was your ultimate goal, at the end of the day. Become like him.

The inability to move made your teeth bite down, but common sense won over. You place your hand into your pocket and slip the penknife inside, your other holds itself out loosely.

I have to be smarter than that. Discreet.

But you really wished you could have slid the blade home.

“Key.” Gaz nods, moving over and dropping it into your awaiting clutch before you rip it away and toss it to the side table. 

“Ma’am,” the Sergeant’s face twists, but you’re already stalking past him, going off deeper into the house. Brown eyes follow. “I know you don’t want me here,” his voice bounces at the stark emptiness of the mansion, “but the only reason I’m staying is to keep you safe. I’m not expecting you to—”

“East wing is all yours.” You’re halfway up the stairs and still going, feet silently stomping over the various moth-eaten rugs. But the man cannot see your face as he’s left with a line on his forehead and a blunt frown on his lips. So much for your few seconds of compliance. He’d thought he was getting somewhere.

“I’d rather be closer. Encase there’s—” Again, he’s cut off. There’s going to be a lot of that. 

“Keep to it after your little exploration. And don’t try anything, my father installed security cameras.” You didn’t give away that you didn’t know how to operate them, but that was beside the point. 

Reaching the top, you head to the west and disappear down a hallway. Kyle hears one last comment bounce.

“I leave at eight every morning!” He’s left alone with only faint light and silent walls. 

But, with a shake of his head and the grabbing of bags at his feet, he can’t say he’s surprised. 

Looking about, Kyle takes in the lack of personality and blandness all around, forgetting for a moment that this home once belonged to a late museum director. He had expected more character—more expression. Certainly more light. 

This place was at a stand-still, like time didn’t begin or end in this house and it simply was. 

He sighs, nodding. He’d just have to work with it. “East wing. Brilliant.” 

His mind still held doubts about this—had ever since Price had given him the order straight from Kate. How can you protect someone that rightly hates your guts? You had more of a chance of tearing him a new one than he did of getting you to cooperate. And that was saying something, considering he was professionally trained in hand-to-hand. 

Again, Gaz had to ask himself if he was capable of doing this job. He thinks back to that mission three years ago, expression pulling tight as he jogged up the stairs and took a swift right. 

He regretted what had happened, yes, but at the end of the day, it was just another target who had gotten what he deserved. It was what the Sergeant did—got his hands dirty to clean up messes and keep everyone else safe.

Your father couldn’t have been any more of a good influence than a bad one. Gaz had seen the file on him. The countless dead. 

He wasn’t a good man, how couldn’t you see that?

“Mate, that was her fuckin’ father.” Growling, that sliver of civilian common sense slithers back in like a rope around his neck when he goes deeper into the house, past various open doors that show meeting rooms, libraries, offices, and art rooms. No bedrooms yet. “Christ, you’re losing it. Man got his bloody head blown off right in front of ‘er.”

When had he become so desensitized to this? 

His brown eyes glared at the floor when he realized he couldn’t remember being horrified by anything he had seen in the last few years. 

Death was death—didn’t matter how bloody it was, or how drawn out. At the end, all of it was just red. 

But he’d never taken a moment to think about how that would be for someone like you. Unused to violence. There was a grand question that Garrick still didn’t know the answer to. Were you a hostage in that little stunt, or were you just leverage? 

The Captain knew the answer—leverage. There was never any intention to actually pull the trigger on you. Kyle would have flatly refused if there had been, as would Soap. Ghost was still an enigma, but part of the Sergeant wanted to believe that he didn’t want that either. 

Samson Row. 

An overwhelming hatred struck the back of his skull as he entered the first room he saw with a bed in it, setting his bags on the covers and pushing his fingers to his nose bride. Eyebrows pull in. 

No use getting like this over a dead man. Stay focused. 

His fingers had only just begun to toss off the duffel bag from over his back when he first saw it. 

His hands paused, body going as still as a stick when he breathed in tightly. 

It was a portrait of your family. Picturesque. Mother on the left father on the right, and you—younger, of course—in the middle. Gaz blinks away to study the rest of the room.

It was incredibly large, with chairs and a couch covered by white cloth to imitate oddly-shaped ghosts and the same navy curtains over a wall of nearly all window panes. And yet no personal belongings other than the picture. 

Brown eyes filter back, staring long at the small girl with a wide smile; the mother with a hand on her shoulder, and the father looking down at his daughter with a nearly missed look of adoration. Garrick half expected the image to bed down and kiss you on the forehead.

Looking away with a clenched jaw, he huffs.

Wordlessly, the Sergeant once more grabs his belongings and walks out the door. 

—

You shook above the bathroom toilet, your breaths a heaving mess of warring instincts. Take down air or let the swirling of your gut cease—the offers were tempting. You’d been in here for most of the day, knees grinding into the tile with the efficiency of a blunt chisel; clothes ruffled as your jacket lay tossed on the floor back in your dark room. 

Throwing your empty stomach up. 

Struggling to think over the day, you force yourself back from the white porcelain, shuffling on jerking legs to rest your back on the opposite wall. 

“He’s in my house. Oh, Dad, one of them is in your house.” Fingers weave through locks and clench tight, hitched words loud in the silence you’d grown to comply with like an old God. Cryptid horrors that stalk the hallways that you see from the corners of your eyes, ghosts that won't leave. “I couldn't do it, why couldn’t I just try?” 

The penknife. It would have been instantaneous. 

But you knew deep down you’d never even be able to get close. 

Sweating and panting, you can almost hear him walking the halls, studying the layout with invasive digits. A parasite. And you’d just let him in. 

The price on your head was scary, sure, but there was already a threat in your very home; learning the rooms like he had any right to be here—like he knew the memories that lived in the walls. Holidays were spent in the main living room, meals made as a family in the kitchen as the butlers watched with happy eyes. The man-made pond in the back behind a wall of green trees because your mother loved to watch the birds. 

This house was generations of your very bloodline. Stories along every surface. History.

“He can’t be here.” You gasp, curling inward as you try and suck down larger breaths. Trying to calm yourself down with reassurance. “He’ll leave soon. He has too. He will.” 

Just wait until Mom gets back, she’ll make them go away. The thought makes air return to your lungs; shaking come to a drawn-out ceasing point. Blinking, you let your hands fall to your lap, body slouching forward. She’ll make it all go away. 

When you find the strength to rise, your feet only stumble slightly, propelling you out of the bathroom towards your bare-bones room. A bed, nightstand, dresser, and couch are the only articles of furniture seen outwardly; a fireplace set into the wall with a rug by it. Curtains drawn closed and smelling of charcoal and old linens. 

Peeling back paint, you stare heavily at the nightstand’s drawer, seeing the copper handle and thinking. But you shake your head and dispel the thoughts.

The acidic taste in your mouth made you smack your lips, almost enough to make you want to gag again. But as easily as the high of injected panic came, it went with a low of immeasurable depths. Still, though, your fingers twitched with unruly nerves; anxious at every creak in the wood outside the door. 

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

Exiting your room, your socked feet know where to step so the wood doesn’t talk back at you, one hand rubbing up and down your face to bring the aliveness back. You needed coffee. Something with caffeine or an immensely high sugar content to keep the rest of this at bay. 

As you turn a corner, your stomach grumbles, sweatpants bunched at your ankles. Food too, you decided.

Walking through the large, arched, entry to the kitchen, you make your way through in complete blackness. You frown, though aren’t surprised you’d spent most of the day inside your room—past the fabric barrier, the hidden French doors to the patio let in the faint light of a dying sun. 

Around seven, if you had to guess. The loss of time to you should have been concerning, but you had in fact grown used to it. 

Year number one after your father’s death was…really nothing more than a blank slate. But you didn’t want to remember any of that, truth be told. 

Stumbling to the fridge, you grip the handle and pull. 

“Bit late for supper.” Yelling, you jerk your hand back and whip to the shadow in the entrance. 

The light snaps on with a flick of a finger, and the sheepish smile on Gaz’s face leaves vexation perforating the large room. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“Do you mind, Garrick?” Your eyes go to his chest, looking away just as quickly when you spot he’d taken off his outer later and was only in the white t-shirt that hugs his physique. The army pants still remained. “What are you even doing down here? I told you to stay on your side.”

“Not really able to do my job from the corner, yeah?” He walks closer, noticing the layer of dust over the gas stove, and raises a brow; wisely knowing not to comment. “Heard you comin’ down, thought I’d make sure everything was solid.”

“I’m fine.” You take out an old carton of milk, nose wrinkling at the smell emanating from the interior. Kyle’s eyes narrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now leave.”

You were too tired for this. 

Slamming the milk back into the fridge and closing the door, you plan to make the trip back to your room on an empty stomach. Kyle clears his throat, seeing an opportunity presenting itself. 

I have to get her to at least tolerate me. 

He’d take every occasion he could get.

“How about I have a go at it?” He speaks quickly as you freeze in the entryway, light from the kitchen spilling out into the hall. “Sandwiches?” 

Your gaze stays dead ahead, numbly stuck to the paint of the wall as if it was going to move and entrap you. Lips pulling back you feel your heart skip a beat. 

Kyle continues, hopeful. 

“Can’t say I'm an expert at it, but I spent a good few weeknights fixin’ my own meals on Base.” You can hear him moving behind you, opening the fridge back up, and grabbing the few items you had that weren't expired. Opening cupboards that your father opened. Grabbing pans that your mother made eggs in. “...Ma’am? That alright?” 

Your eye flinches minutely, cheek pulling upward in response. Yet the churning in your stomach was volatile, and if you went another hour without food you’d probably be passing out every time you stood up. What harm was there in taking advantage of the man? A meal was a meal, and you’d only had coffee today anyways.

Saying nothing, you take one step backward and pivot. 

Gaz watches in shock, not expecting you to take him up on his offer. By the heat in your eyes, he supposed you wished you didn’t. 

I didn’t see her at all after she disappeared into her room—not even when I was doing a sweep. The Sergeant had memorized the entire mansion layout in only two hours, going into every room except the one that had been closed tight. Yours. 

It wasn’t hard for him, though it was tedious the fourth run of the place. He’d counted every window and every entrance or exit door and had locked every one that led outside. 

But he kept re-walking past that closed door; his feet taking him back even as his mind stayed focused. 

Gaz’s hand had been poised to knock at one point during that time period but had only stayed stationary before it fell back down to his side. It was best not to push too hard. Inch before the mile.

In the kitchen, he sees you slip onto the island bar stool, always keeping a side-eye on his hands as they dig through sparse ingredients. 

Egg sandwich it is, then. 

Your voice rasps out, “I don’t remember ‘cook’ being in the detail description.” 

“Well, I sure hope it wasn’t.” Kyle chortles. His brown optics spare you a quick dart, seeing your form tense over the marble countertop as he swishes away dirt from the stove; placing a pan on top. You seem subdued…fingers twitch over the handle before his eagerness to earn your favor slowed. Sickly. 

Your skin is sunken, eyes blinking fast and snapping back and forth at every sound his body makes as if he’d pounce on you. Keeping an ever-heavy glare to where his pistol was sitting in the clutch of his belt—visible from over his shirt. 

The Brit swallows and looks back. 

“My job’s just to make sure you live another day, yeah?” The man’s voice lowers and you look to the coffee bar near the abandoned family table. “I’ll be in the background the entire time.” Leaving the chair, you go to it and speak as the sound of cracking eggshells hits your ear like a caving skull.

“I have rules.” 

Garrick nods firmly, but you don’t see it as you open a bag of fresh grounds and grab a mug.

“Copy, Ma’am. It’s your house—I’ll follow what I’m told.” He shifts his arms into a crossed position and leans back against the island as the eggs sizzle. You know he wants to say more, and too tired to care to give a retort or interrupt him, you let Gaz continue. “But I’m not willing to let that interfere with my mission. Any order I’m given’ll override what you tell me if it has to, even if it’s dodgy.” 

You watch dark liquid fill the coffee pot in a deluge of blackness like a wave of ink, and with that inkiness, the pit in your stomach gets larger. 

You could always poison him. Your eyes blink, hearing the slight beep of the machine in front of you as you grip your mug. 

Nightshade.

“Well, then,” Kyle looks for plates and finds a stack in a cupboard near the entrance. “What do I need to know, Ma’am?”

Hemlock.

“I don’t like people messing with my things,” you level, filling your cup to the brim as Gaz takes the pan off the heat; putting out the flame. “Stay out of my room and the room next to it if you insist on walking around.”

Choosing the opposite end of the wide island, you put your cup down and sit. A plate with a piece of bread with the yellow and white sight of scrambled eggs is slid into view. Kyle does what’s best and goes as far away from you as possible to eat his fill as well. 

The built man stands. 

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he admits, “I’ll be taking a look around every day, but I doubt anyone would try and break in.” 

The fingers which had picked up a small piece of egg paused with it halfway to your mouth.

Castor Bean.

“Why do you say that?” 

“The curtains.” You spare a glance at his nose, watching him take a bite out of the bread and act like the answer was obvious. He swallows and you follow the action with a tight throat. “Erm, no offense, Ma’am,” you raise a brow slowly, “but am I safe to assume you never open them? Least, not all the way?”

“What do you think?” You eat your food and take a long sip of your drink, downing half the mug in one go. You really just wanted him to disappear like a bad dream.

Large quantities of Daffodil.

“Less of a chance of anyone else knowing where your room is—would take too long to figure out. Wasting time like that isn’t how foreign cells operate…quick and easy, y’know?... Any others?” Kyle finishes his plate quickly, moving to place it in the sink; not wanting to dwell on the comment.

You take a few bites of your own, wondering silently how he can eat so quickly, and nod.

“If you hear me screaming in the middle of the night, leave me alone.” 

The air thickens.

Kyle blanks as you continue eating slowly, taking brief intermissions between bits to sip down more coffee. The tired moments of your sluggish eyes and twitching fingers. You don’t think to explain further, content to hear in those few moments absolutely nothing besides the beating of your own heart.

Rosary Pea. Induces tremors, high heart rate, and burning in the back of the throat. Fatal. 

Your mother also liked her plants, though you doubted the fauna in the back garden was still alive. You hadn’t bothered to keep it up after the gardener quit.

“I’m…not following.” Gaz scratches at his chin, face pulled back in confusion, lightly shaking his head. “Screaming?”

“Screaming.” Taking the empty plate, you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand. “In the night. I was quite clear.” A devious smirk whittles itself over your flesh like wood. “You’ve heard my scream before, you’ll recognize it. Sound carries.” Dismissively you toss your free hand. “As I said, it’s an old property.” 

Gaz tries his best to not engage, but the words he’d been wanting to tell you slither off his tongue after a moment's thought. He had to make you understand. Strain forms again.

His head shakes with a slight parting to his lips. No matter what, every conversation always led back to an argument. “Do you think this is a joke?”

You’re walking back to your seat with the coffee pot in hand, scooping up your mug with the intention of bringing both back to your room. 

You don’t answer right away, causing the man to call your name sternly; seriously. 

“I hate you. That’s not a joke.” Your words bounce, not at all hollow like the wound in your heart. Violent and utterly true. 

You didn’t want this man around—you didn’t want him in your house, you didn’t want him in your city, you didn’t want him living. 

Walking off, the suffocating air trails after you as you disappear into the darkness, avoiding the truth. 

But this situation is not a joke. Not at all, but you can never say that out loud. Where would your thin bit of control go? The brief moments of pleasure when you make Kyle’s patience and lax nature devolve into annoyance—even anger.

The words follow after you in a deep, aggravated, sigh. 

“Yeah, trust me, Love, I’m well aware.”

Cold was a day in hell before you admitted to this boy you were terrified.

But how many more days could you keep that act up? Three? Five? Ten? How long was this even going to go on?

Your mind was scattered, torn between duty and self-preservation. Killing the Sergeant would lead you down a dark path, one you weren't sure you could take by yourself. But was that justice?

Is that what Dad would want? You have to ask yourself as you make your way back to your room in pitch blackness, guided only by the old walls of a home even more dented and destroyed than you were. 

But the worst part was that you didn’t even know the answer anymore. And everybody who could help was limited to a stray cat that didn’t like you and a mother who left you here alone during your darkest moments.

The house was filled with ghosts, but you’d never felt more alone.

TAGS:

@fatunn, @mh073099, @littlegaypng, @untitled69555, @babybooday, @caffeine-anxiety-and-randomfacts, @underrated-youngster, @jupiterredolent, @idocarealot, @karnellius, @latteisaqueen, @petrat97, @jade-jax, @roosterr, @escapefromrealitysm, @renaich, @kysa32, @human-turtle, @aurora-basin, @terumisworld, @violet-phantoms, @xxfeelmylovexx, @neelehksttr, @nezukos-number1fan, @20forty9, @mdjenjen, @marrianena, @angeldaisyy, @alhaizen​, @homicidal-slvt, @emerald-valkyrie, @raissadoesthingslmao, @misfne​, @hollyhopesworld​, @wasteland-babe​, @330bpm-whiplash​, @anna-banana27​, @justherebecausesafarisucks, @sunnynomoar​, @doggydale​, @thecrispypotatochip, @74478328​, @blueoorchid​, @das-conk-creet-baybee​, @dragonfruit1985, @chestnutsandcurls​, @vamqyr3​, @lavalleon​, @nebula67​, @urfavsunkissedleo​

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #gaz x reader #gaz cod #gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #cod x reader #cod #cod x female reader #cod x you #Call Of Duty MW2 #call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #MW2 #cod mw22 #mw2 2022 #gaz mw2 #mw2 fanfic #cod fandom #cod fanfic #cod mw fanfiction #x fem!reader #x female reader #mw x reader #modern warfare #modern warfare 2

[mrslectermoriarty]

Headcanon Series #16

Ice and Mav finally get their shit together after the Uranium mission. Don't ask me how, theories in the comments. Anyway, they kiss in public - on base or something, it looked very dramatic - they become a couple and the next morning Ice walks into the building he works in (enter important navy office) and half the officers he passes look very pissed at him, ready to bite his head off. Especially older ones he's known since the 90s or so. Most of them grumble some unfriendly sounding greetings into his direction. Some of the younger ones though smile at him with such happiness and sometimes clap his shoulder or congrate him, he can't really comprehend what's happening.

He shrugs it off and enters his office, only to find out his long time secretary and dear friend Mrs. Lesser is about to leave. For a vacation. She's never taken a vacation before. Sure, some free time over the holidays or when Ice took a break from work, but never longer than a couple days. Now she's gone for a few weeks.

The weird events continue when two hours later, a mad looking Admiral Hanson stands in his door and rants something about Tom being childish and stupid and how he could do such a thing. "Seriously, Tom. All those years and now you gotta pull a stunt like that? I thought better of you."

After the third officer passing his office and muttering something among the lines of "Really great, Kazansky," Tom calls for a meeting. He's the COMPACFLT after all. He outranks most people in the building. And this seems rather serious.

"Gentlemen, I am at loss for words. Your overall behaviour today has not only been out of line for work but also simply disrespectful. If this has anything to do with the events from yesterday, I can only say I am disappointed. We are professionals and the government, the state and the people depend on our work. We can't let something from any of our private lifes affect us like this. We're grown men and we should be able to handle such things like grown men. We can only function as a united front."

There's an audible huff at the other end of the table, coming from Admiral Marcus. "Easy to say for you, you got the guy you've been thirsting for the last 40 years, I lost about 200$ because of you and Mitchell." Admiral James, who sits next to him elbows him. Tom's eyebrow start to wander. "How exactly do you loose 200$ because of me? Please, elaborate."

Opposite from Marcus and James, Admiral Cameron pulls a thick folder from under the table and slides it over to Tom. Whispers and even gasps erupt. "It's over, so he might as well know now."

Tom opens the folder and is greeted with a long list of people, dates that reach back to the 80's and huge amounts of cash written down. Between the pages are various copied documents of conversations between him and Mav, pictures of them together on various occasions and hand-scribbled notes with more dates and different statements on them. Tom's eyebrows almost disappear in his hairline. "What is this?", he quietly asks, afraid of an honest answer.

Cameron sighs and speaks up: "Some guys from your Topgun Class apparently started this in 86'. It was about when you and Mitchell would get your shit together and do something against that unresolved tension between the two of you. They expanded their list with every squadron you both were in because you guys weren't subtle at all but also extremly stupid and the rest got a kick out of betting who'd give in first and when this would happen. At the ceremony in the 00's, when you got your stars, an Admiral got a hold on the list and decided to join. He brought it over here and no-one couldn't really resist. And now we heard of you and Mitchell eventually putting an end to this. Of course people are pissed, they bet way to high on the wrong guy or year!"

Tom's eyes skim down the list. It seems like every person he's known inside the Navy has their name written down on the yellowing paper. He spots Mrs. Lesser on there and let's out a surprised chuckle. "Marywas really good. Got almost 1000$ out of this. No wonder she's on vacation." He drages his hand over his face to regain some grip on the situation.

"I can't even- how did you manage to hide this from me for so long?", is the only question he gets out. James laughs. "We're the military. We have our ways." By now the whole table is chuckling or whispering in amusement. Tom can only shake his head, but also smiles. "Can I take this home? I need this in a proper display on my office wall. Or maybe over the dinner table. And you are all invited to an apology-BBQ."

Okay, I know this was weird, but in my head I can see so many people in the Navy that just see Pete and Tom working together and they think like "Yeah, these two are totally gonna end up together." I love people shipping IceMav, I'm sorry.

#top gun fandom #top gun #topgun #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #top gun headcanons #Ice lives #headcanon series mrslectermoriarty

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 6

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: Smut and drama, ex-boyfriend breaking restraining order, protective Sy, language.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 5

I’m half asleep, half-awake when I feel movement across my chest. I’m still too deep to realize it might be a threat before I feel gentle lips press against my stomach and I groan. My groan brought me closer towards consciousness and I opened my eyes with a start to see Emma’s beautiful blues staring right back at me from my stomach. I relax as I watch her press gentle kisses across my abs as she makes her way lower. Her body is hidden by the sheet but still accentuated her ass up in the air. She reaches for my morning wood and looks at me for permission. I sleepily nod at her and she immediately engulfs my cock into her mouth.

“Fucking shit, sugar.” I rasp, my voice laced with sleep as I wrap my hands in her hair. She creates the perfect pace as she bobs up and down before she gags on my cock. I bite my fist so that I can gather my wits without screaming the place down. With one hand on my shaft, the other around my nuts, she continues working on me and just a few minutes later I’m spurting my seed right down her throat. She swallows greedily and sucks me thoroughly through my release until the oversensitivity has me spasming. She kisses her way back up my body only to lay against me and place a kiss on my lips. 

“Good morning.” She says sweetly.

“It sure as hell is now. You sure know how to wake me up.” 

“I was hungry and needed my breakfast.” She whispers seductively and I flip over on top of her.

“Well, I’m starving so if you don’t mind, I’d like some more of that peach I tried last night.” I say before I make my way down her body and gaze upon her perfect pussy.

“I can’t believe you actually like eating women out.” She whispers.

“Wrong, I love eating YOU out. You are my favorite dessert. Now let me get to it, sugar.” She squeals as I dive right in. I nurse off of her clit and slide two fingers in and in no time at all Emma is moaning and squirming. 

“Fucking hell, Austin. I’m gonna cum!” She shouts as she grinds against my tongue. I hold her hips still as I work her towards her release. She cums exuberantly with a moan and her essence soaks my face with the most sensual taste. We lay back and I pull Emma into my arms. 

“You’re unreal at that. Like you should write a book so that all the men in the world can learn to do that.” She says and I chuckle.

“Why would I give away trade secrets? I had to learn these techniques on my own. That’s like giving away a recipe that’s been in your family for years.”

“But at the expense of women’s pleasure all around the world.” She tries to convince me. 

“You’re one to talk. You’re quite skilled in the oral sex department as well.” I say and she blushes bright red. 

“What time is it anyway?” I ask.

“A little after eight. Got somewhere to be?” I blanche. 

“Seriously? It’s that late? I don’t have anywhere to be but I don’t think I’ve slept past 6:30am since I was in high school. Army kinda breaks that habit but you musta really wore me out.”

 “I’m glad you slept so well. Seemed like you needed it but I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.”

“Mmm. You can always wake me up like that, Sugar. I better get up and take Mills out. I bet he’s gotta whiz like a race horse. ” 

Emma giggles. “I already took him out. I had to pee so I took Aika and Mills out after and then came back to wake you up.”

“You went outside naked?”

“No! I grabbed one of your t-shirts.” She tilted her head in the direction of my dresser.

“Now that’s a sight I’d like to see. C’mon woman, let me make ya some breakfast.” I tell her with a light smack to her ass.

She climbs out of bed and I watch her saunter towards me as I open my underwear drawer and throw on a pair of boxers. She reaches past me, grabs herself a pair of my boxers before throwing on my favorite red DILLIGAF shirt. Those letters have never looked so good as they do now spread across her voluptuous tits. It’s so large on her that it covers her ass and you can’t even tell she has boxer shorts on under it. She runs her fingertips down my pecs and abs while gently scratching before she turns and heads down the stairs. I’m hot on her tail as I quickly lift her up bridal style and set her on the countertop. I start grabbing the ingredients that I’ll need for eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Emma turns around behind her and starts making coffee.

“Your grandma lets you make canned biscuits?” She chuckles and I smirk. 

“She never taught me how to make homemade ones. Plus, that would take way too long. The canned ones are good.” 

“Okay, I’ll agree that the canned ones are yummy but they’ve got nothing on my homemade ones. I doubt you have everything I need, but next time I’ll make some.” 

“Next time, huh? How presumptuous.” I tut.

“Shut up.” She playfully kicks at my butt and I arch my eyebrow at her. Emma works on readying the biscuits for the oven and when the coffee brews, she pours us both a cup. I smile at the domesticity that engulfs us at this moment.

We eat our breakfast in comfortable conversation and I still can’t believe how well I slept. I feel more rested than I have in months.

“What would you be doing if I wasn’t here right now?” Emma brought me from my thoughts.

“Honestly, I’d probably be working out, or I’d be building something on the property. I might be out in the woods with the dogs.” 

“Well, don’t let me stop you.” She replied.

“Trust me Sugar, I don’t have any intentions of letting you out of my sight.” 

“How about you run me back to my place so I can get a change of clothes and then we can take the dogs on a walk?”

“I don’t know that I want to take you back to your place for clothes. I like you just in this.” I reply with a smirk.

“I can’t walk around in just your shirt, mister.” 

“I’d love that, actually.”

“Oh, you’d like other people looking at me practically naked?” I grumble an “over my dead body” before looking back at her.

“Well, let’s go get you some clothes and take these pups on a hike. I wanna take a look at that hot water heater and sink when I get over there though.” She looks at me and arches an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m going to see what needs to be fixed while you get yourself dressed. Pack yourself a little bag and I’ll bring you home Sunday night.” I tell her and she smiles and nods. I suddenly remember I’m supposed to head over for lunch at Nana’s on Sunday. “It may be really weird to ask this or way too soon, but would ya like to come with me to lunch at my grandparent’s house Sunday?” I ask her. 

“Are you sure they wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to intrude on family time.” She replies.

“My nana would be happier than a pig in sunshine, Sugar. She’s been wanting to meet the new vet in town.” I tell her truthfully.

“They won’t think it’s weird that you’re bringing me though? I mean, we’ve technically only had two dates.” Emma admonishes.

“My nana may be a bit nosy, but they respect the fact that I’m grown and am gonna do what I want to. If anything, she’ll likely try and convince me to put a ring on your finger the second she meets you.” I chuckle. “That woman has been asking for me to give her great grandkids since I was 21. I swear at this point she’d be okay with me getting someone pregnant outta wedlock just so she can have some grandbabies. She don’t mean any harm by it though, so don’t worry.”  

“Well, maybe one day she’ll get her wish. For now, I hope she’ll be okay with you introducing me as your friend.” We get dressed, Emma putting on her clothes from last night, and load up in my truck with the dogs in the backseat to head toward her home. When we get there, we get inside and I take a look around. The house is decorated somewhat plainly and mostly white and grey with little hints of teal blue throughout. I spot teal throw pillows on the couch, a blue painting on the wall, blue utensil canister in the kitchen. It’s understated, simple and clean, and like it.

“Point me in the direction of the water heater, Sugar.” She leads me to the laundry room and shows me the water heater.

“I’m going to be in my bedroom changing, if you need me.” 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Darlin’. I gotta take a look at this water heater.” I smirk and pat her ass as she walks off, the two dogs hot on her trail. Aika is very interested in smelling her new surroundings and Mills just seems happy to be included. I chuckle as I watch him clumsily trail down the hallway, goofy little thing.

The water heater is old, but seems to be in working condition. I turn up the heat dial on the water heater since I think it’s too low to see if that helps her not run out of hot water and make my way to the kitchen sink. She said it was working a little funny so I take a look at it. It doesn’t drain correctly at all and see that she’s bought some drano to try and release whatever’s clogging it. I’d bet my last paycheck that the previous owner poured grease down the sink and that’s the problem. People oughta know better. I can come back with a drain snake but I’ll likely have to replace the pipes underneath to clear out whatever is clogging the p-trap. While I’m looking at the sink, I hear somebody knocking loudly on the door.

“Sy? Can you get that?” I hear Emma ask from what I assume is her bedroom. Hopefully I can see that room before we leave. 

“Sure, darlin’.”

“Emma? Are you in there?” I hear someone yell with another round of knocks as I slowly stand up and make my way to the door. Aika makes her way directly to me on high alert. She seemed to be more alert simply because of the new surroundings, but her demeanor now shows she’s on guard.

I halfway open the door to see a man with brown slicked back hair, and dressed somewhat preppy in a button up and slacks that look a bit too small. I immediately get a douche vibe from this guy who looks at me with a mixture of shock and an air of uppity disdain. 

“Can I help you?” I ask the stranger.

“Oh, I thought this was Emma Miller’s address. I must have been told wrong... but wait, that’s her jeep in the driveway. Who are you?”

“I’m Sy, but I think I should be askin’ who you are.” I arch my eyebrow at him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He mutters under his breath with an eye roll. “Oh, um. I’m Colin. Is Emma here?” My stare hardens. Colin… is this the ex boyfriend? Seriously?

“Sy? I’m ready! Who’s at the door?” I hear Emma come around the corner toward the hallway in her hiking outfit and instinctively close the door a bit more so Colin can’t see her. 

“One moment.” I tell the guy who looks beyond irritated that I’m not the 5’6” blonde he was hoping for.

“Remind me sugar, don’t you have a restraining order on that douche bag ex of yours?” I mutter lowly so he can’t hear.

“…yeah, why?”

“Might wanna call the cops and add stalking to the charges.” I murmur back to her.

“EMMA!” Colin yells and pushes hard against the now cracked door that I have my foot pressed against to stop it from opening. The door barely budges.

Emma steps back with a panicked look. “What the fuck is he doing here? How did he find out where I live?” She whispered, her eyes wide as saucers. 

“Emma, just let me talk to you and then I’ll leave. I just need you to hear me out. Five minutes, I swear.” Colin bellows from the door.

“You need to step back.” I grunt murderously and push the door shut throwing the lock on it. Colin immediately begins yelling Emma’s name and banging on the door.

“The rest of the doors and windows locked?” I ask and she nods. The poor thing looks petrified.

“Want me to get rid of him?” I ask her gruffly.

“I… I can’t even think. Should I call the cops? I don’t want him in my house. I can’t believe he showed up here. I don’t know how he even found me. What if he shows up again and I’m alone?” I hear her ask more to herself than to me. I reach for her shaking hands that she now has framing her face in shock.

“Baby, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right? Trust me? My cousin is a police officer, I’ll send him a text and have him come out. If you want to listen to him, it seems like now’s a good time while I’m here and Walt on his way. It’ll at least keep him here until the cops show up.” Colin bangs on the door again startling Emma. I look down at my phone and send Walt a text with an SOS and Emma’s address. I wait a moment and Walt responds with an “omw” text. Thank God for Walt. I need to buy him a round next time we go out.

“You don’t have to worry. I can get rid of him and you don’t have to see him or say a word if you want. You are safe, Sugar.” I tell her and kiss her temple. Emma wraps her arms around me and I can hear her heart racing.

“I guess I’ll see what he wants. I wouldn’t put it past him to show back up when you’re not here. Don’t leave me?” She asks nervously. 

“Not a chance, darlin’.” I wait a moment and open the door and Colin steps back as I push my way towards him trying to look over my shoulder at Emma and we walk on the front porch with her angled behind me. 

“Emma, just let me explain myself. Do you mind?” He looks at me and scoffs. “I sure do. Say what you need to say before I kick your sorry ass all the way back to Bama.” He sneers at me before ignoring me and looking at Emma.

“Listen, Scarlett and I are done. We broke up and I realized I was wrong. I want you back, baby.” Emma scoffs.

“Not a chance in hell, Colin. You’ve made your bed and now you can lay in it. Is that all?” I watch Emma out of the corner of my eye as I stand firmly in front of Colin. I cross my arms across my chest and flex my biceps just to make my muscles that much more menacing.

“Don’t do this. I still love you and I know you still love me. Just give me another chance. We can even buy a house and get married like you always wanted.”

“Oh, Colin, how generous of you.” Emma states with pure sarcasm. “Leaving your mistress to finally commit to me after cheating on me repeatedly and without shame for months while I worked tirelessly to repair our relationship. You’re practically prince charming.” She sneers. “You tried to convince me that I was crazy for suspecting something was going on when in reality, I was right. How dare you show up to my new life and think you have any business even being in my presence. You hurt me not just emotionally, but physically. You are pathetic and I regret every moment spent with you. I now know what it feels like to be valued and appreciated, and I never want to see you again. Go home. Go back to Scarlett or whatever other tramp you find and wallow in your unhappiness. Leave me alone.” I feel the pride for Emma radiate from my body. I can tell that she has been bottling this up for who knows how long and I hope she feels relief at finally getting to say her peace.

“I know you’re angry, but you’re talking crazy. I took you on romantic vacations and dates and treated you so well. You can’t tell me you regret all of the good times we had. We’ve known each other our whole lives and I’m not allowed one mistake? Besides, you were working late and never home. You were neglecting me and our relationship. You’re really going to throw away the history that we have for some meathead like this?” Colin says while pointing his thumb at me and I growl deep inside my chest. He can say whatever he wants to me but I will not allow him to say anything else patronizing to her.

Emma stands straighter. “He is more of a man than you’ll ever be. And, just for your information, I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need or want you in my life. I’m happier now than I ever have been.”

I see Walter’s truck rounding the corner followed by a squad car with its lights on but no sirens and breathe a sigh of relief. I could easily take this fucker if I needed too, but I’d rather let the law handle it. 

“You called the cops on me again, you stupid bitch?” Colin screams when he sees the lights coming toward him. Emma immediately steps back and I lurch in front of her. I’ve easily got about three inches of height and at least thirty pounds of muscle on this guy, and I almost dare him to throw the first punch. I’d love to smash this fucker to the ground.

My fists are so tight that my knuckles are white as I look him in the eyes and with my Captain’s voice. “Don’t you dare fucking speak to her like that again. You’re the one breaking the law by being here.” I growl and Walt comes flying over to me. The cop he brought with him, Justin, is also someone I’ve known my whole life. Justin immediately grabs Colin and pulls him toward the cop car to question him. I can hear Colin’s whiny voice immediately lying and saying that Emma invited him here to talk and I was interrupting.

“Walt.” I grit through my tense jaw in greeting to my cousin who is looking at Emma and then back at me. Walt responds with a stern nod before looking to Emma.

“I’m Walter Marshall.” He greets Emma and shakes her hand and she introduces herself.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to come out here.” She apologizes.

“It’s not a problem. Tell me what’s going on?” 

“That’s my ex-boyfriend, Colin Wright. I had to get a restraining order from him in Alabama before I moved out here. He got violent with me several months ago when I changed the locks on my apartment and the police were called. I don’t know how he found me, but he just showed up at my house. I’ve only lived here for about a month and he shouldn’t know where I live. My parents and best friend are the only ones who should have my address. His uncle is an officer in Alabama and got him out of trouble last time.”

“Okay, do you have the restraining order with you? I’d like to look it over but it should still apply. Violating a restraining order is a class A misdemeanor and should be difficult for anyone to get him out of, although it doesn’t constitute much jail time unfortunately.”

Walt follows us inside as Emma retrieves the legal documents to show them to Walter. I’m silently seething as she explains the situation. I relax slightly when I hear Walter tell Justin to read him his rights and book him for violating a protection order. Emma seems so embarrassed even though she has done nothing wrong. I just want to scoop her up and take her back to my house and hold her so that she feels safe again.

“Alright, we’ve arrested him but now that he has your address, I suggest you get some security at your house. An alarm system, video doorbell camera and a few surveillance cameras around the property would be a good idea to keep you from being surprised in the future. If he ever shows back up, call the police. I’ll give you my personal cell phone number as well since you’re Sy’s girl.” Walter tells her.

“Thank you so much, Walter. I’m sorry we had to meet like this but it was nice to meet you.” 

“You too. Sy, you good?” Walter asks.

“Yeah, man. Thanks for running out here before I smacked the guy. Appreciate it.” I tell him as we shake hands and Walter heads back to his truck. As soon as he leaves, Emma stands up and I can see her arms shaking.

“Sugar, you okay?”

“I just… I’m just so frustrated. How did this happen again? This was supposed to be a new start without him around. I don’t know how he found me and I just want to feel safe again. I’m so tired of this shit tainting everywhere I go. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before the town starts gossiping about the new vet’s man trouble.”

I gently place my hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing and pull her towards me. I hold her in my arms tightly and as soon as I do she breaks down. I hold her and rub along her back as the sobs slow down.

“Darlin’ you need to not think about any of that. Who gives a shit what other people think? You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re just trying to live your life. You are safe here, and I’ll do my damnest to show you that. Now, you want to go to my house or you still feel like going on a hike?” I ask and she whispers, “nature might help me calm down” into my neck. “Alright, how about after our hike we go and get you some security stuff for the house. I can install it tonight and we can order some dinner here. That sound okay?” She just nods and I give her a gentle kiss. We load up the dogs in my truck and I take her to one of my favorite trails to walk Aika. It’s not very well known and about half way through there is a stream that runs through it which is a perfect rest spot. I notice Emma seems lost in her thoughts and I just keep quiet. I know she needs time to process everything and I want to be a quiet presence to help her but not overwhelm her. We’d barely spoken by the time we got to the stream and I’m starting to really wonder what’s going on in her mind. I let the dog’s romp around in the shallow water as I point to a large rock to rest on. Emma sits beside me and I wrap my arms around her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask.

“Oh gosh, just trying to process what just happened. I’m sorry I’m so complicated. You were probably just looking for something easy and fun and I’m just a mess with a ton of baggage.” She places her head in her hands and chuckles without humor.

“Sugar, I got more baggage than you could imagine. You’re not complicated, you’re just human with human problems. If I was looking for something easy, I would’ve fucked and ducked, but I’m not interested in that. I’ve had my share of one-night stands but you…darlin’ you are different in the best way.” 

Part 7

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal@kingliam2019@syversonswife@identity2212@starfirewildheart@hannah9921@wa-ni@kneelforloki@cutedoxie@enchantedbytomandhenry @foxyjwls007@geralts-yenn@courtlynwriter @corrie1013 @squeezyvalkyrie@summersong69 @livisss @mayloma

#henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain sy #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson fluff

[a-soft-hornytiny]

At the office.

Summary: Yeosang, your boss’ son and biggest menace, decides that he had enough of your bullshit (aka you doing your job and telling him off) and teaches you a lesson with four small and simple words: “Get on your knees.”

Word count: 1.6k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Yeosang x female!reader

Warnings: public sex, humiliation, degradation, use of slut and whore, use of noona, unprotected sex, dirty talk, penetration, blow job, cum, cumming inside (let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: you see, yall really inspired me so here is that bunch of absolute filth. Yes its ceo’s son!yeosang and secretary!reader. Yes its semi public. Just yes. thanks so much for the idea @star1117-archives and the inspiration @seongsangsgf @sinferrer

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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

His grip on your thigh was strong and you could feel his muscles underneath you shifting. 

You didn’t even fully remember how you got into this situation. One moment you were walking through the office to copy some important documents, the other you’re sitting on his lap. Whose lap? Kang Yeosang's. 

The worst part about this? He was the son of your boss. The heir to the business you were working in. And as Mister Kang’s secretary, part of your job seemed to be keeping his son in line. Which obviously worked perfectly well. 

Yeosang had enough of being told what to do. You weren’t even much older than him and yet you ordered him around like a 5-year-old that didn’t know how to clean up his own mess. 

To be fair to you, Yeosang didn’t clean up his own mess. But not because he didn’t know how to but because he didn’t want to. He loved to see you rage and whenever you tried to give him a lecture he just sat there, completely ignoring your words and watching the way your body moved under that tight suit. 

He just couldn’t take you seriously. And even though he did feel bad about his behavior towards you sometimes, he would do everything in his power to piss his father off. 

“Noona~” He whispered into your ear while one of his hands was tracing from your waist down to your thigh. “Don’t you want to take a little break?” He smirked, blowing your hair out of your neck. Shivers ran down your spine.

“What are you doing Yeosang?” You asked firmly, trying to hide how much his actions were shattering your self control. 

“Oh nothing noona~ just helping you let go of the stress you’ve been horting.” He let out a deep breath against your neck as his hand wandered to your inner thigh and up. The short pencil skirt you were wearing didn’t help at all. And even though you knew how wrong it was, you were melting into his touch. 

The way he dressed had always made you weak. This damned tight leather wear. All those zippers in places they were not supposed to be in exposing more than enough of his skin. You knew that he was working out but the way his thigh muscles were flexing against your bottom half made you go crazy. 

“Yeosang what if someone sees us? This should not be happening.” You knew that was not the concern you should be having and Yeosang noticed immediately.

“Oh so this-“ His thump traced little circles on the inside of your upper thigh “is not the problem but the fact that someone could see us is?” You had exposed yourself.

He had pulled you into a little corner of the office that no one would randomly walk into and that was not visible from the rest of the room but there was no door between you and multiple other people in the main building. 

“Say something noona. We don’t have all day.” His voice was deep and raspy as he set gentle kisses on your skin. It was over. You had lost all authority over him. 

“You don’t listen to me anyway so why don’t you just tell me what you want.” You hissed at him, still trying to keep up your cold side.

“Oho getting cocky now are we?” He chuckled. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth as his fingers flicked against your clit. It was still covered with fabric but the touch was intense. 

“Get on your knees.” He demanded, and you followed instantly. 

The scene in front of you was god-like. He was sitting there man spreading, the fabric of his pants stretching over the obvious tent between his legs. His shirt was tight around his chest and all the zips were open. One was revealing his strong collarbone, another his defined biceps and the ones on his side were teasing the abs that were lying underneath. 

You weren’t even done admiring his whole body when he started opening his pants.

“You are going to suck me off now and you will not make a sound.” He growled, freeing his hardening dick from its cage. You nodded. You didn’t even know what drove you to do this, to not protest. But you had thought of this before. You wanted this.

You robbed forward a bit before taking the base of his cock into your hands. 

“You’re such a whore~ always telling me to get myself together but I say one thing and your hands are wrapped around my dick.”

You wanted to say something but before you could, he had grabbed your hair and pushed you closer. If you opened your mouth now, it would be filled. 

“Come on noona, don’t make me wait now~” He murmured as his other hand softly caressed your cheek. And he didn’t have to ask twice. You opened your mouth widely and pushed forward, taking his beautiful cock into your mouth inch by inch. 

“That’s a good whore.” He let out a deep groan. 

You started bobbing your head at a steady pace, his hand in your hair still guiding you. The feeling of his dick pressing against your tongue was so satisfying it made you hum slightly. Delicious.

You ran your tongue along his whole length from the base to the tip where you slowly traced circles with it. The sounds coming from his mouth were just as heavenly as he looked.

But you wanted more. You wanted to taste his pre-cum in the back of your throat and feel him twitch in your mouth as he slowly comes closer to his high. So you took a deep breath and pushed his whole length into your mouth, only stopping as your nose hit his stomach.

“Fuck, Y/n!” He moaned, dropping the teasing nickname he had called you before, which made you realize the control you had. But somehow hearing your own name made you even more eager to continue. 

“If you continue like this, you’re gonna be filled with my cum before you even know it.” He grunted, throwing his head back.

Exactly what I was trying to do you thought before gently imitating a gulping motion. It nearly made you smile in triumph as he covered his mouth with one hand to muffle his sounds. 

You started moving your head again, picking up speed quickly.

“I- argh. Fuck Y/n, Y/n stop!” You immediately stopped your movements, feeling his pre-cum leaking into your mouth. He was breathing heavily and sweat drops were running down his forehead.

“I want to cum inside of you.” He whispered. Your eyes widened as he pushed you away and signaled you to sit down on his dick. But.. but we’re in the office. Your thoughts were going wild with what he wished for but one thought dominated all others. 

I’ve already gone so far, why not get some pleasure for myself on the way.

Yeosang was surprised when you actually got up and raised your skirt to your hips, revealing your already ruined panties. You took a step closer, swung your legs over his and pushed your panties to the side before positioning his tip at your entrance and carefully settling down. After getting comfortable on his lap, you started rocking your hips back and forth.

His head was buried in your chest and his hands were sitting on your waist, helping you move.

You had to suppress loud moans as you felt his hard dick rub against your inside. Your walls were clenching around him every time you went down, your clit touched his shaft. And after only a few thrusts you could already feel him tremble. 

His breath was getting faster and unsteady, his arms were shaking and his dick was twitching inside of you. He was about to cum. 

Suddenly you heard a voice calling your name from across the room. Fuck.

But instead of stopping, Yeosang increased the speed by pushing his hips upward. You whined quietly as his dick hit all the right places.

And then he came. You could feel his cum fill you up as his whole body started to tense up and shake uncontrollably. 

And then you heard your name being called again. Fuck.

Without hesitation you jumped up, making Yeosang whine as the cold air hit his wet dick, and pushed your skirt down. With a few reaches, you tried to fix your hair and clothes as you heard footsteps coming closer. 

“And for the last time-“ you raised your voice while shielding Yeosang from the room to give him enough time to fix himself up “I will not indulge this behavior again. This time you went too far. Expect the consequences!”

You wanted to wipe that arrogant smirk out of his face as he was listening to your ‘for show’ rant. He didn't make you cum and he was going to regret that. Revenge was coming.

But then your coworker stepped around the corner.

“Oh Y/n, there you are. I was wondering if you could help me with some of the documents I told you about earlier! Only if you have time though…” 

You took a deep breath before turning around. “Oh I have plenty of time. This young gentleman knows exactly what he has done.” You said, walking towards them. Before reaching the corner they whispered into your ear.

“What did he do this time?” They asked and you simply sighed, walking away with them while Yeosang’s cum was leaking into your panties. 

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

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez story #ateez smut #smut #kpop smut #kpop #kpop imagines #ateez yeosang #kang yeosang #kang yeosang smut #yeosang #yeosang x reader #dom!ateez #dom!yeosang #female!reader #🔥

[smok3r7]

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Push and Pull

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

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

Chapter Summary: The first year is just about over and you and Aaron have somehow gotten into yet another argument. Can the two of you fix it? And even if you can, is it even worth it?

Word count: 4k

Warnings: angst, toxic young ‘relationship’, drinking

—

“So, what happened this time?”

This question lingers in the air like thick smoke, heavy and dark. You’re sitting on your bed criss-cross and Bella is sitting the same way, right in front of you. You’re trying to find the words to explain what happened about an hour ago, but you can’t find them.

“He just- no, it was my- god, I don’t even know,” you choke out as your face falls into the palms of your hands and the tears begin, “It’s just so stupid. I’m stupid.”

“Oh baby, come here,” Bella sighs as she pulls your shoulders so the top of your head leans against her chest, and she just hugs your upper body as much as she can. The two of you stay like that for a moment, until you pull yourself together and are able to form complete sentences without crying or breaking down once more.

“Ready to try again?” She asks as she carefully lets your trembling body lean back to where you were.

You wipe your nose with the sleeve of your shirt and nod your head, still with glossy eyes, and look into her beautiful hazel irises, relaxing a bit. You take one more deep breath so you can put the pieces of the puzzle back together mentally before you try to verbally.

“Okay, umm. So ya’ know Tiffany right?”

“The frat whore?” she asks, “Yeah, I do.”

You chuckle, “So, at Jackson’s party earlier I saw her ‘n Aaron talking. But she was like all up on him, whispering into his ear constantly ‘n he would look at me ‘n then back to her. ‘N he just, like, had this glare in his eye. It really hurt me cause everyone knows about him ‘n I! Like, okay, yes, we’re off right now but that doesn’t make it fine to do that. Especially when I’m in the eyesight of both of them.”

“So what did you do?” Bella asks with furrowed brows, “Cause I know you didn’t just let that slide.”

Before you answer her with the embarrassing truth, your hands are fidgeting with the laces of your Nike Air Forces. You find it heartening and funny that she knows you so well, because she’s right - there’s no way you would let anything like that slide, especially when it came to Aaron.

“Well, I uh- went up to them ‘n started to argue with Tiffany. Saying shit like; why are you on him, you’re a whore anyway, he wouldn’t want anything you have to offer, bitch. Then she started to get loud back ‘n all in my face, which- I was fine with, until she then digs her finger into my chest. ‘N that’s when I just lost it.”

“She really did that? Her dumbass thought that was a good idea, are you kidding me?”

“Seriously! ‘N that’s funny you say that, just gimmie a second to get there, okay?” You laugh to yourself and, before you continue your story, you snag the fifth of Fireball that’s on the bedside table and take a shot. No chaser. You’ve become quite good at being able to drink since you’ve been at Washington College, a perk of being here.

Then, handing the bottle to Bella, she too takes a swig of the liquor that’s now about half way gone. She hands it back to you, ugh, man, she groans and you just let the fifth sit in between your legs as you begin to continue the events of tonight.

“So that’s when I swung my fist back ‘n punched her dead in her face-“

“Tiffany?!”

“Yes, Tiffany. Right square in her nose, ‘n the bitch fell right to the floor. Just like that,” you clap your hands right as you say that, to really showcase how quickly and hard she fell.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Bella chokes on her spit for a second.

“Bitch yes! Like a fuckin dead tree, just pin straight down to the ground. That’s when I stood over her ‘n said, stay the hell away from Hotch. But before I could gloat anymore, Aaron bear hugged me from behind ‘n picked me up. So I’m trying to squirm ‘n kick my legs out of his grip, but ya’ know, that wasn’t happenin’. The whole living room of people is just buzzing with laughs ‘n ouhhhh’s while he carries me out the front door and into the dead end cul de sac ‘n sets me down.”

You stop blabbering and take another shot of the whiskey, bigger than the last one. Ugh, shit, you groan and wince at the burning feeling in your throat. Good one, huh? Bella giggles as she reaches out to your hand where you’re handing her the bottle again.

“Shut up,” you drunkenly laugh, the whiskey definitely affecting you now, “But back to what I was sayin’. Uh, he set me on my feet ‘n spun me around to face him. His face was stern, like he does when he’s pissed, you know the look.” You stop your rambling to mimic Aaron’s stern face, dramatically furrowing your brows and sealing your lips into a hard line.

“Oh my god, yes,” Bella bursts out laughing at your overly dramatic face; even though it’s somewhat accurate, “You’ve gotten so good at that. Fuck, girl.” Since he is seven years older than you, he does have some more aged features on him than most - which you really don’t mind, you actually love his older features and vibe.

“Thank you, thank you,” laughing as you act out putting a crown on your head, “Anyways- my adrenaline was still on a hundred from frat-whore Tiffany, so I’m quick to start yellin’ at him. ‘N if I’m completely honest, I don’t even remember what I said entirely cause he was quick to shut me up. Here, let me just show you-”

You spring up to your feet so you can reenact how Aaron acted to you tonight. “Gettin’ a full show, I guess,” Bella announces as she watches your wobbly movements.

“Yep. So he interrupts my word salad by shouting my name, which worked really well actually. Then he follows up with,” you clear your throat and start to impersonate his voice, but with a bit of an exaggerated tone to it.

“You really think it’s okay for you to act like that? You’re such a child. I can’t believe you actually thought I would get with Tiffany anyways.” You switch back to your voice, “then I stopped him ‘n said, so then why were you lettin her be all up on you and whispering’ in your ear?” Back to his voice, “Are you kidding me? She’s my partner in Behavior Analytics, and it’s loud inside there. Okay, yeah - maybe I let her too close, but what is it to you anyway? We’re not even together right now.”

“He said that? No fuckin’ way,” Bella starts as her jaw slacks open from pure shock at what you just told her, “He’s got some damn nerve.”

“Thank you! God, I- I was so confused ‘n clearly not thinking straight because,” you take a second before you answer, “cause, I slapped the shit outta him.” Before the words leave your lips, you wince from the embarrassment of your actions.

Bella looks at you dumbfounded, and all she does is hand you the fifth of whiskey for you to drink. Thanks, you chuckle and without any hesitation take it, along with another shot, the bottle now only having about one shot left. After taking the shot, you start to feel dizzy so you go back to the bed and plop down in the same position before you stood up. You start to hand the fifth to Bella, “No, baby that’s all you, you need it more than I do right now.”

You just shake your head and the events of tonight just replay over and over as you take the last swig of the Fireball. Which you do not need.

Bella waits a second for you to recoup yourself before she asks the question, “So what did he do after you slapped him?”

You smile, but not because you’re happy, it’s because you’re sad and scared, and just in pure disbelief - he’s never done this before, you might have lost him for good.

Screwing the red cap onto the bottle and raising your eyes across the dorm to the trash can by the door, you chuck it past Bella’s head and it sinks right into the black can. Hell yeah. She turns her head back to face you and chuckles as she raises her right hand for a high five.

But the little burst of joy will quickly fade.

“He just turned around ‘n just left me in the street ‘n walked back into Jackson’s house to continue partying or god knows what.”

Wow, is all that Bella says as her face is covered with a shocked expression, much like yours was earlier in the evening. Yeah, just- yeah, you reply to her as you fall back and let your head sink into your pillow and your arms lay across your eyes to make sure tears don’t escape. Silence fills the dorm room, besides the busy street noise and people partying that echoed through the open window behind you.

You feel the mattress sink next to you and Bella’s arms wrapping around your waist, her face burrowing into your neck as she whispers, “Fuck him.” You take your arms off of your face and turn to look at her, you both start giggling like little girls at a sleepover talking about boys - not too different from what you’re doing.

—

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BE-

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up!” You groan, raising your closest hand and hitting the alarm clock like you’ve done every morning for the past eight, nine months. Thankfully, you only have one more week of the obnoxious torture device that is your alarm clock, and then it’s summer break.

But before you can even think of that, you have to face today. God, you feel like shit. Your head pounds over and over, concentrated right behind your eyes. You roll over on your belly and smush your face into the plush pillow, why did I have to get that drunk? You can tell today is just going to be perfect, just perfect. Maybe a fake smile in the mirror will make you believe it.

After about five minutes of cursing to yourself into your pillow, you gather the minimal strength you have and push yourself off the mattress. Making yourself get ready for a chilly spring Monday worth of lectures, along with facing Aaron after last night. Slipping on one of his Nike hoodies, that just goes past your ass and is overall large on you, with a pair of black leggings, and of course - your black and white forces. Simple yet cute.

Still hungover like someone who’s never drank before, you do a little bit of mascara and put your hair up and out of the way. Just so you don’t look completely fucked up, and so Aaron doesn’t think that he messed with your head completely. You and him have been together but not at the same time, pretty much since this past October.

The two of you would be on good terms for a week or two and then he either did something to piss you off for fun, but you would then take it too far by arguing with him about it. Or it would be all over a dumb thing that he would do, like going out and not coming back around you for a night or two. He wouldn’t try to contact you in any way, to even just inform you that he was safe or when he’d be back, and it worried you when he did that. But when you voiced how you didn’t like it, he’d completely dismiss you - resulting in another argument and break up, repeating the cycle again.

Aaron is the one who calls it off, every time. He won’t talk or contact you, in which you do the same - out of spite. But usually after about three or four days, one of you breaks the no contact - usually for sex.

There was just something about Aaron that you couldn’t leave alone, and there was just something about you, that he couldn’t leave alone either.

And it’s been the same cycle. Over and over. But in all seriousness, you don’t mind it because right now this is all fun and games. You really believe that whatever this thing is between you and Aaron, will end either this summer or when you graduate. If you keep telling yourself that you’re okay with this, you’ll eventually believe it, right?

With your mind trying to think and the throbbing headache behind your eyes, it’s all too much. You pause your movements and take a deep breath, eyeing the table you see a bottle of Tylenol that Bella must’ve needed also on that table. You take two of them followed by your water from your water bottle, then snag an apple from the counter.

You go back to putting your textbook and notebook in your bag and you quickly glance over to the clock one more time, 9:28AM.

“Fuck, just- ugh,” You grumble as you bolt towards the door, slamming it behind you, and jogging down the hallway that’s scattered with students here and there. This would be the day I’m late.

The door to Dr. Miller’s room is now in front of you, before you open it you regulate your breathing so you’re not out of breath when you walk in.

Alright- three, two, one- you pull the glass door and gently close it behind your body, so it doesn’t slam. You instantly spot Dr. Miller slightly leaned and sat on his wide oak desk, with his arms folded in front of his chest. He turns his head in your direction, but is still talking to the class.

“…546 through 576 are the pages we’ll be goin’ over…”

This man creates feelings in you that you don’t know how to place, but you can’t do anything about it, so you just observe him and take in what you can.

His brown hair with streaks of silver is slicked loosely back and the curls are almost perfect, his round wired glasses sit on his nose. The dark blue button up he has on extenuates his bulky arms and chest, which has you feeling light and bubbly. Hangover gone for a split second.

You nod your head and he returns the gesture, then faces the rest of the class, continuing his lecture about today's reading.

“…by Wednesday, end of class. I want a three page overview of how brains can alter after a traumatic event…”

As you walk up the steps on the side, Dr. Miller’s voice drops from your ears. Or, a slight ringing sort of takes over your hearing and, for some odd reason, you’re worried sick about how he’s going to be.

Reaching the section, after what feels like climbing a mountain, you look down the row where you and Aaron usually sit, seeing him sitting by himself with his head down. Weird. When you slowly walk over to him, you squat down, balancing yourself with one hand on the back of the chair and whisper, “Is this seat taken?”

Aaron lifts his head and you can tell that he is just as hungover as you, if not more. His jet black hair, usually combed back, is fluffy and messy. His amber colored eyes have a red glossy tint over them as he gazes down at you with melancholy eyes. But when he realizes that it’s you and you’re not upset, a warm relaxed smile growing on his tired face.

“Not at all, love.”

—

“Are you gonna come in?” You question Aaron as you stand inside your dorm and he lingers in the doorway. The two of you had sat silently during class, then made a deal to talk about things back at your dorm after the day was done, going your separate ways for the rest of your schedule. It’s now just after two in the afternoon, but you feel like it could be time for you to go to bed, clearly what your body craves.

Between the lingering headache, body aches, and the slight rumbling of your stomach from this awful hangover you’re still somewhat going through, the amount of stress you’re under from the tedious school work between three classes, to the situation in front of you - all you want to do is sleep.

“Yeah, I just want to-”

“Hotch. Stop. Come in ‘n we’ll talk.”

He’s silent as he listens to you and hesitantly steps into the room, leaning his back against the door as it closes. You don’t call him Hotch unless you really need him to listen to you, usually reserved for fights.

You turn around and walk over to your mattress, kicking your shoes off and letting your backpack slide off of your shoulder on the floor next to your bed. Then you crawl on your bed and sit criss cross, like you did last night with Bella.

Gazing up at Aaron, he’s still leaning against the door, arms crossed while staring at you and your movements with his soft eyes. Even though he looks exhausted, he still looks handsome. Finally taking in the image of him, now across the warmly lit dorm room - you smile.

His light gray hoodie is loose around his torso but tight around his arms and his dark blue jeans grip his thighs. His face is soft but with some stubble starting to grow along his jaw and cheeks. His small pink mole on his right cheek, parallel with his nostril, fits perfectly with his soft lines around his eyes and brows are starting to appear, which you know he hates but you couldn’t think of him without them. His jet black strands of hair are a bit more put together, more than this morning anyways. God.

Your heart flutters at the pure sight of him. You can’t stay mad at him, it’s simply impossible.

C’mere baby, you whisper as you pat your hands on the spot in front of you on the mattress. Aaron doesn’t say anything, but starts to move. You observe the way the corners of his lips curve up just a bit, as he slides his white Nikes off and sets his black Jansport bag on the table next to the cherry red telephone.

He runs his fingers through his hair as he carefully steps to you and sits on the bed with only about a foot between you and him, his right leg is folded in front of him, while the lower half of his left hangs off of the mattress. His large hands are resting in his lap and all of his attention is on you, without saying anything - he’s saying so much.

“About last night-“

“Don’t. This is on me.” Aarons deep voice cuts you off.

You stay quiet. You want to hear what he has to say before you make a fool out of yourself for possibly saying the wrong thing. But before he can say anymore, you get this sudden pressure in your lower back that causes you to become distracted. Ouh fuck, you wince as your hands move to lightly massage your lower back.

“You alright?” Aaron’s tone raises just a bit.

“Yeah, it’s just,” you straighten your back and keep your hands on your lower back, “Sittin’ in those shitty chairs ‘n walkin’ across campus. You’d think I’d be used to it by now - apparently not.”

Aaron nods his head and chuckles under his breath, but before he can start another sentence, you maneuver your body to relieve some of that pain. Laying back just enough so your back is supported by the pillows beneath you, and your shoulder blades are supported by the wall behind you. Your hands intertwine with each other and rest on your stomach that lowers and rises with each breath.

Your legs are the next thing to move. You shift them from the criss cross position and stretch either one on the outside of Aaron’s body. But your right calf ends up laying on his thigh, whereas your left rests on the mattress, grazing his knee.

Aaron cocks his head and a soft smile takes over the sincere expression he had a second ago, as he watches you relax. His left hand leaves his lap and moves to your calf, where he starts to run his thick fingers up and down your legging covered skin. The corner of your lips lift just a bit when you notice the hungry look that’s in his eyes, as he gazes at yours.

His jaw clenches, then softens - like he’s trying to control himself from having you here and now. The sight of you laid out in front of him, in his hoodie and your leggings that hug your legs perfectly, has him drooling. But he knows he can’t, that would just be stupid right now.

A second of silence goes by before Aaron clears his throat and begins the conversation that seems so familiar and yet, so different.

“Honey, I’m sorry for how last night went. I shouldn’t have left you in the street like that. For all I know, you could’ve gotten kidnapped or god knows what. I really don’t like how I acted.”

You nod and whisper, thank you. The air in the dorm has become a much lighter feeling than even a few seconds ago. You don’t feel like he’s gonna try to make a break for it and stay away from you forever. You really thought you lost him because of your actions.

“And please really listen to this,” he starts, but both his hands move from their original spots and find new ones on either one of your thighs; his thick fingers dig into your legs. Your heart flutters and your pussy throbs from the sudden familiar touch. “I really regret messin’ around with Tiffany. I was doing it to strike a nerve- which clearly did, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. No excuse. And I don’t want to hear an apology from you, cause if you had acted like me- I would’ve done the same thing baby. I really would.”

That was an apology. He just made the perfect apology; you thought it was impossible. You feel this heavy weight that’s been lifted off of your shoulders and mind, after hearing his smooth deep voice relay those words.

However, at the same time- you're filled with this sense of dread. You’ve heard the sorry’s before from him. First time after catching him flirting around with your Bio Lab partner, the second time after he and his guy friends left town for winter break without telling you anything. Scaring you to death, thinking something terrible happened to him - then come to find out his boys thought it was funny and Aaron just let them joke around. But he never laughed about it.

Then the most recent, last night; you don’t like how normal this is becoming. Each one slowly progresses into something more severe than the last; not a good sign. An acidic feeling slowly climbs from your stomach, to your throat and creates this burning in the back of your mouth. Your mind is jumping around to try to make sense of how this is going to end or even, hell, how it even got started.

This is not healthy.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner series #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds

[libraryofloveletters]

Family Secrets

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: dad!Charles, dad!Carlos and dad!Pierre all in one!!, mentions of pregnancy, the Leclerc children are a headache and a half, alcohol and the consumption of, a singular mention of drugs, a very old fashioned way of thinking from Charles’ end, a few swear words, one big happy family. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: thank you to the anons that sent in these asks, this one is for you guys!! thank you to @timetoracewrites for letting me use sofia in here!! 

Daddy & Me + Three Masterlist // based on these asks -- one // two // three // four // five 

----

You two had been incredibly blessed your entire lives; you had fallen in love at a young age and got married, you had been fortunate enough to be able to travel the world with your husband, Charles, watching him do what he loved and you were still were able to keep up with your writing, number one seller after the other. 

The first time you got pregnant, it wasn’t planned. Twins in the first go. Your family of two quickly became a family of 4; the two boys making their appearance after a long yet short nine months. 

Gabriel Hervé Leclerc was the older of the boys, born a whopping 12 minutes before his twin, Christopher Jules Leclerc. 

They were troublemakers from the day they were born; they had their father’s eyes, his dimples and smile. 

The family of 4 remained 4 for another 2 years before you found out you were pregnant again. This time you had a baby girl; Eloise Marie Leclerc. 

She too bared great resemblance to her father; the only thing was she has your eyes but his dimples prominent on her little cheeks, her fair skin identical to her father's. As she got older, you quickly learned that she turned tomato red in the sun like her daddy. 

Even though she was the youngest of the 3 children, she had her brothers (and her father) wrapped around her little finger from day one.  

The kids didn’t stay little forever, you basked in the memories but now they were all grown up. The boys were 19 and your baby girl turned 17 last month. 

You and Eloise were at the nail salon, a regular Friday for the Leclerc women. Pascale usually joins you two, the gossip overflowing between you 3 but she wasn’t able to join you guys today. 

Charles was taking you to an event tonight, some F1 gala that required his presence for a few hours to give out an award. 

You were showing your daughter a colour, asking her which one she liked between but she waved you off, “blue, mom.” She answers, her eyes glued to the phone sitting on her thigh as the woman worked on her left hand. 

“Who’s texting you that you’re so busy you can’t even look up?” 

Eloise looks over at you, her cheeks red. “Anthony.” 

You racked your brain -- Anthony ? Who the hell was Anthony? It was like the light bulb turned on when you looked over at her again, a smile on your own face. 

“Anthony as in, Anthony Gasly ?” 

Anthony was Pierre’s son; named Anthony in honour of Anthonie. 

He was a year older than Eloise and he was his father’s twin. The carbon copy of Pierre down to the facial structure and piercing blue eyes, deviously handsome and a troublemaker in his own right. He reminded you so much of Pierre when he was younger, you can see why Eloise fell for him. 

She nodded, looking away sheepishly as the woman filed her nail down. “Are you two.. seeing each other?” You ask, finally settling on the darker shade of the blue. 

“I mean.. I guess ? It’s not official or anything, but please don’t tell dad. He’d freak, you know how he is.” She looks over at you, seriousness all over her face. 

“You think I'm crazy ? Your secret is safe with me.” You tell her with a smile. 

At home, the Leclerc men were tasked with building a bookshelf for you. The shelf was in pieces on the floor, 3 beers sat between the pieces. “We're never going to finish this before mama comes home.” Christopher lays back flat on the floor. 

“You’ve got no faith,” Gabriel tells his brother, sipping on his beer. Charles nods in agreement with his son, clinking his bottle against his. 

Charles’ bottle was empty, he gets up to go throw it out in the kitchen when the phone on the counter starts to ring. He turns it over to see it’s Sofia, a little red heart next to her name and a photo of Christopher and Sofia in his Ferrari. He answers the call. 

“Hi baby!” She beams, expecting Christopher. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Charles answers, she gasps. “Uncle Charles! I’m so sorry,” she giggled, making him smile. 

Charles has known Sofia since she was a baby. She was born the same year as the boys, Carlos beyond proud of his baby girl.  Carlos didn’t care about the titles or the wins, she was his greatest accomplishment and he told anybody who would listen. 

“It's okay, Christopher is trying to build a bookshelf and he left his phone in the kitchen.” 

“Oh, could I speak to him if he's not too busy ? He can call me back in a bit if that's better.” 

“No, no. I’ll take the phone to him, hold on darling.” Charles tells the girl, walking back to the living room to hand the phone to Christopher. “It’s Sof,” he watches his son get up and take the phone, walking out the room. 

---

Your heels clicked on the stairs, Charles was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for you. It reminded you of when he took you to prom. 

The two of you were all but 18 years old, of course Charles was already in F2 and wasn't really set up for the prom thing but he was there, waiting at the bottom of the stairs in your parents’ house for you. 

“Tu es magnifique, mon amour.” He smiled, his hand out for you. (you are beautiful, my love.)

“Merci,” you kissed his cheek when you stepped down the final step. 

The 3 kids were in the kitchen, the two of you walking in hand in hand. A round of cheers and whistles from your sons when they see you. 

“Go mama!” Christopher shouts, “Give us a twirl,” Gabriel says, and you do. They grinned at you. “You look nice,” Christopher tells you. 

“Thank you baby.” 

Eloise was bickering with her father about how, at his grown age, does he not know how to tie a tie. She fixed the tie and straightened it, brushing off his blazer. 

“You three, behave. No parties, no drinking and no fires.” Charles warns the kids. 

“What about-” Gabriel starts but you cut him off. “No drugs either.” You smile at him, making him laugh. He has a talent for finding a loophole and then telling you didn’t specify it. The kids agree to the terms, bidding you farewell and shutting the door behind you. 

The two of you get into the Ferrari, Charles’s prized possession. 

No matter how much time passes, the rumble of the engine was one of your favourite sounds in the world. Charles glances over at you, smiling as his hand cups your cheek. 

“Always does it hm?” 

“Always.” You kiss the palm of his hand. 

---- 

The driveway was dark, 2 of 3 of the cars are still parked in the driveway. 

You see Eloise’s car which is enough for you because the boys were old enough to be wandering the streets after midnight but you knew even if you were okay with it, Charles was not okay with his baby girl being out so late. 

Charles’s hand is in yours when you two step into the house. The entry way was long, so the kids probably hadn’t heard you two come in. You slip your heels off, sighing at the relief. Your husband hangs his blazer on the coat rack as he unbuttons the sleeves and rolls them up. 

Your eyes fixed on him, unconsciously biting down on your bottom lip. 

“You okay baby?” Charles asks, the smirk playing on his lips tells you he’s got a wicked idea tumbling around that brain of his. 

“Hm yeah,” you smile, resting a hand on his chest as you kiss him. The two of you walk down the long hallway to the living room where you come to a halt when Charles spots the two people on the couch. 

Your daughter - his baby girl - sat on the lap of some guy, his hands on her ass as they made out. 

Now you knew who this mystery guy was but Charles didn’t. Before you could pull him away, Charles starts shouting, startling the two of them. Eloise gets off the guy’s lap, her eyes wide and the guy doesn’t turn but he keeps looking at the young girl, too scared to turn. 

You watch the scene unfold, your husband rounding the couch only for his eyes to look like they’re going to fall out of his head. 

“Anthony ?! What the fuck is going on here?!” He looks between the two of them. 

Charles never swore around the kids, at least he tried his best not too. Frankly, he barely swore as is; he often blamed you for the kids and their filthy language. 

Your lips pull together, trying not to laugh at the look on Charles’ face. “Honey, please calm down.” You call to him, rounding the couch to grab his hand and pull him further away from Anthony. “Remember, we were young once too.” You whisper to him. 

“That’s different, that's my daughter, amour.” Charles grumbles, looking at you. 

“Double standard baby, I’m someone’s daughter too.” You remind him- his mind running back to the time your father walked in on you two in bed, you both got the lecture of your lifetime from your father and his. 

“Sorry,” Anthony stands, “I’ll just-” he points to the door and goes to move but Charles glares at him. 

“Sit.” and now he's sat. 

“Papa, come on,” Eloise pleads to her father, grabbing his arm. “Don’t freak out on him, it was my idea.” She tries to pass the blame off her boyfriend but it wasn't working. 

“Hard to believe that, baby girl.” His hand cupped the young girl’s face. 

Even in moments of anger, she was still his precious baby girl. Her pretty eyes staring back at him, reminding him so much of you and then he remembers why you’re all standing there.

Charles reaches for his phone, holding it to his ear after dialling someone. “Who’re you calling ?” You ask him.

“Pierre.” 

Anthony’s face drops, the poor boy looked like he was going to be sick. You leave them in the living room, getting a glass of water for the boy before returning. 

Sat on the couch next to Anthony, you rub his back as he sips the water nervously. You had watched Anthony grow up, he was harmless. It was hard for your motherly intuition not to kick in when he looked so worried. Eloise was pleading to her father all while he was on the phone with Pierre, all 3 of them speaking in French at the moment. 

Eloise is still clinging to her father’s arm, he's by the stairs shouting for the two older boys. 

You turn to Anthony, “are you alright ?” you whisper to him. He nods, “dad’s going to kill me.” 

“Please, your father is harmless. Trust me,” you smile at the boy, settling his nerves just a touch. 

You get up when you hear the footsteps on the stairs, expecting Christopher and Gabriel but you were met with Christopher and Sofia. You pry Eloise from Charles’ arm, sending her to go sit with Anthony as you watch the two kids come down from what you can assume was Christopher’s bedroom. 

“Hi auntie y/n, Hi uncle Charles!” Sofia stepped past Christopher to hug you and then Charles. 

“Hi Sof, I didn’t know you were here.” Charles smiles at the girl and she smiles back at him. 

She had her father’s smile and Carlos’s big brown eyes to match hers. She was similar to her father in so many ways; she wore her heart on her sleeve as he did but if you upset her, you'd be the first to know unlike Carlos who kept quiet, you always thought she took that part from her mother. She stood tall, her tan skin glowing under the white lights in the house. 

“Are you staying over?” Charles asks her as she returns to Christopher, the boy wrapping his arm around her. It was beyond clear that they were dating and Charles knew. 

Oh, you two were going to go up the road for that one. 

“Oh no, dad is coming to get me. My grandparents are coming over for lunch tomorrow.” 

You watch them, your brows furrowed. Sofia and Christopher had always been close and everyone teased them about how they'd fall in love, it was basically destiny. 

You never actually thought it would happen. 

“Mom,” Christopher called for you, “Sofia and I are-” “Dating, clearly.” You hum, smiling. “Welcome to the madness, darling.” You smiled at the girl. 

“If you two are home, that means Gabriel is out, no?” You ask Christopher who nods. 

On cue, as if you summoned him, Gabriel walked down the hallway. “Oh Chris, mate!” Your oldest laughed to himself, calling for his brother as he twirled his car keys on his fingers. “Date was smokin’ hot- hi mom.” The boy stops, smiling sheepishly at you. 

“No, go on,” you waited, arms folded. “Tell me about this date.” You ask, eyeing the faint red lipstick on his lips, jaw and neck. 

“Lovely girl,” he smiles, “very respectable.” 

“Respectable enough to let you fuck her on the first date ?” You ask and Charles’s head whipped around so fast he definitely gave himself whiplash. 

“What ?” All three of the Leclerc boys asked at the same time. 

“What, what ? The boys can sneak their girlfriends in,” you look at Christopher, “come home covered in lipstick,” you glance at Gabriel, “but Eloise can’t have a boyfriend ?” You look over at your husband. 

“Honey, it's not the same.” 

“Not the same how? Because she’s your daughter ?” 

“Exactly.” Charles nods. 

You groan, “that's such a fucking double standard, Charles!” you stormed off to the kitchen, the man following after you. 

Gabriel looks away from his parents’ direction to his brother on the step. “Eloise  has a boyfriend ?” he asks, shocked. 

Christopher nods towards the couch, their little sister resting her head on Anthony’s shoulder. “Huh.” Gabriel says. 

“I think they’re cute, if I do say so.” Sofia butts in, making the twin boys chuckle. 

Pierre comes walking down the hallway, the 3 older kids sitting on the staircase and he stops to say hello to them. He can hear you and Charles screaming at each other in the kitchen. 

“Do I want to know?” And all 3 of them shake their heads. Pierre hums, walking to the living room to see the two younger kids.

Eloise and Anthony both stand when they see him. They both look so worried and he musters up the most stern face he can, trying not to laugh. 

“Uncle Pierre,” Eloise starts, she looks like she was about to cry. 

She had never been in father’s bad graces nor had she ever been the reason for her parents to fight so she was clearly distraught. 

Pierre pulls the girl into a hug, kissing the top of her head. “It’s okay.” He turns to Anthony next, smacking his arm. 

“Comment t'es-tu fait prendre ?” he asks his son who shrugs. (how did you get caught?)

“Nous ne les avons pas entendus entrer.” He answers his father, sighing. (we didn't hear them come in.)

Pierre leaves the kids in the living room and joins you two in the kitchen. He knocks on the wall, making his presence known. 

“Pierre, fucking finally. Tell him he’s being irrational about this,” you looked between your husband and his best friend. 

Pierre stands there quietly, Charles’s eyes fixed on the man. “You knew. Oh my god, you fucking knew.” he blurts, glaring at his friend. “You knew they were dating and you didn’t tell me?” He says. 

“How’d you think he got here?” Pierre chuckles, him being the only one. “They’d tell you in their own time, mate.” He says in all seriousness. 

There’s another arrival while Charles spirals in the kitchen. 

Carlos walks into the house, “do you guys know your front door is unlocked? That’s so unsafe.” He tells Christopher and Gabriel. 

“Porque están gritando mija?” He looks at Sofia. (why are they yelling mija ?)

“Eloise tiene novio y el tío Charles no está contento con eso,” She fills him in, Carlos nodding. He, too, makes his way to the kitchen. (Eloise has a boyfriend and uncle Charles is not happy about it.)

“Hola,” he sits beside Pierre at the counter. 

The two men watched as you and Charles shouted at each other, the anger clear as the conversation switched between English, French and Italian. 

“Eloise is 17 bloody years old! She can have a boyfriend, just be glad she didn’t pick up some loser off the street!” 

“I don’t care who she picks, she’s not dating him!” 

“She can date whoever she pleases!” You shout back at him. “Frankly, they can all date who they want, they’re grown up now, Charles. You need to learn to fucking let go.” You walk out the kitchen, past the children and up the stairs to your bedroom. 

The 3 men were left in the kitchen. Charles runs a hand over his face, propping his elbows on the counter. 

“Am I wrong? Like really.” He looks to his two friends for advice. 

“Yes,” they both answer, glancing at each other but Carlos speaks first. 

“Do you think I was happy when Sofia told me she was dating Christoper ? Ai no,” he chuckles, “all I could think was he's going to break my baby’s heart and then I'd have to kill him; there goes years of friendship with you.” He looks over at Charles who gives him a weak smile. 

“I learned to trust her, she’s a good girl and by extension, I trusted Christopher too. Eloise is the same way, mate. You know she’s a good kid.” 

“I’m sure you’d rather her date Anthony than some stranger, at least you know him.” Pierre adds, “they’re both good, smart and with us around, they won’t make the wrong choices. They’ll do it if you keep freaking out for no reason.” 

Charles sighs, nodding. “Excuse me,” he walks out the kitchen and to the stairs. All three kids point up and he heads up to find you struggling to undo the zipper of your dress.He quietly walks over and undoes it. He watches you step out of the dress and set it on the bed as you change into sweatpants and a tank top. Charles sits on the edge of the bed, sighing as he passes a hand through his hair, undoing his tie.

“You’re right.” 

“I know I am.” You quipped before he continued. 

“Sometimes I forget she’s not a baby anymore. She’s my little girl, y/n, it’s harder to let go of her than it is with the boys.” He looks over at you. 

You sigh, walking over to your husband. “I know, but you have to trust her.” 

“Please spare me, those two gave me the same lecture.” He sighs, laying back on the bed. “I just- how do you do it ?” 

“They’re grown, Charles. We have to let them live and learn; making mistakes is part of the process, dating is part of it too. As their parents, we have to sit back and stand by to pick up the pieces.” You tell him, passing a hand through his hair. 

“I know,” Your husband grumbles. 

“Okay so go get your ass up and apologize to them.” You push him, causing him to stand. “To Eloise, sure.” 

“And Anthony. You nearly gave the poor boy a heart attack.” The two of you step out of the bedroom, walking down the stairs to find it empty. 

Christopher, Sofia and Gabriel have all congregated in the kitchen with Pierre and Carlos. The living room was empty too, Eloise and Anthony in the kitchen as well. 

Carlos was cutting some veggies at the counter, the stove on and something sizzling in the pan, chicken by the looks of it. “They were hungry, hope you don’t mind.” 

“No, not at all. Gala food is so shit, I’m starving too.” You tell him, chuckling. “What can I help with?” You ask him, moving to grab what he asked for. 

Charles calls for Eloise and Anthony, asking them to step outside with him. The kitchen led into the backyard, big glass doors made it easy for you to see outside even with the doors shut. The 3 of them standing outside, all eyes on them; The twins and Sofia sat at the breakfast nook, Pierre at the counter while you and Carlos prepped a whole fest at 1:30 in the morning. 

You can see Charles’ lips moving but you can’t tell what he’s saying. 

“I’m sorry, both of you.” He starts, “I'm sorry for yelling and freaking out. That wasn't the right approach. I have to let go, or at least that’s what your mama says,” he glances at his daughter. “I’m not totally at terms with this but I’m willing to try. Obviously we’ll need rules and I definitely do not want to see that again.. ever.” He looks over at Anthony, referring to what he walked into. 

“Yes sir.” Anthony answers. 

“Good,” he nods, stretching his arms out for them to come closer. Eloise wraps her arms around her father, snuggling into his side. 

She’s always been a daddy’s girl, and to this day, she’s still got that man wrapped around her finger. 

“You too,” he calls Anthony who hugs him too. 

Charles lets go of the kids, stepping inside first. Anthony and Eloise are holding hands when they step back inside, visibly more relaxed. Charles makes his way over to you, hugging you from behind as you mixed the sauce into the pasta. 

“Did you say sorry ?” 

“Yes,” he pulls you a little closer. “Do I get rewarded ?” 

“Ew,” Pierre groans, Carlos fake gagging at the two of you. 

“Shut up,” Charles called to his friends, making the 4 of you laugh. 

There you stood, your husband hugging you as his two friends, Carlos and Pierre, sat at the counter both nursing a beer. You glance over at the breakfast nook, all 5 kids squished in together, chatting and laughing. Gabriel was getting poked by Sofia, the girl squished between the twin boys. Christopher has both of his arms on the ledge behind them, one arm over Sofia and the other over his sister. Anthony was whispering something to Eloise, her cheeks bright red. 

Your hand rests on top of Charles as you lean against his chest. 

“This is it.” You tell him. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, his cheek pressed to yours. 

“This is what our life is gonna be like,” you look back over at the kids, “loud and messy, house full of kids.” 

He smiles, kissing you when you lean your head back. “It always was and it always will be.” 

-----

taglist: @diorleclerc @lickmeleclerc @timetoracewrites @halsteadssneakylink @dragon-of-winterfell @benedictscanvas @elisaa-shelby @hnmaga-blog @czechoslovakiandisco @dr3lover @troybolton14-blog-blog​ @lovingroscoee @compulsiveshit​ @somanyfandomsbruh​ @damnyoulifee​ @lovelytsunoda​

#daddy & me + three series #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #dad!charles #f1 #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fiction #f1 fluff #f1 fic #formula one #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #formula one fluff

[writingquestionsanswered]

Writer Torn Between MC's Two Worlds

king-ofconfusion asked: I'm struggling with my story's ordinary world. The MC discovers they're from a magical world and finds their original family, but I'm not sure what to do with the MC's adoptive family. He's 20 and in college, so it's not like he needs permission to leave or there's anything blocking him from going, but I feel weird having him abandon the world he was raised in, and I don't feel like he'd lie to his loved ones about his other life. Having him tell his adoptive mom the truth and "peace out" feels very flat.

[ask heavily edited for length and content]

I see a lot of different options here...

1 - Outright Honesty/Peace Out - I don't think this is such a weird idea, actually. I have heard of international adoptees locating their birth family as an adult and leaving their adoptive country to return to their homeland/birth family. Whether or not they maintain contact and visits with their birth family depends on the relationship, but many do. On that same note, Outlander comes to mind, where there's all sorts of back and forth between worlds with the intention of never returning (of course, they always inadvertently do), but there are fated couples who "part forever" out of necessity, parents and children who "part forever" out of necessity, friends and family members who "part forever" out of necessity... and if it's good enough for a book series that has sold 50-million copies worldwide and is the basis of a popular TV series, you're in good shape. So, I think the honesty/"I need to return to my homeland" option is perfectly reasonable, especially if they can promise to keep in touch and/or visit.

2 - Necessary White Lie/Cover Story - If you're worried about the MC lying to their ordinary world family because it's out of character or you're not a fan of this kind of lie, you could always make it a necessary lie. For example, maybe the MC is warned that this fantasy can't be revealed to ordinary world dwellers. Or, maybe the MC is simply afraid that his family might sacrifice everything and follow them into the fantasy world, face danger, etc. You can definitely come up with a reason. And then being at college provides the perfect cover story. If the character can travel between worlds, you could even have them periodically return for a few days to catch up on homework, sit in on important lectures/exams, or zoom through online classes. Maybe they say they're taking half a course load so they can intern somewhere (and maybe here you can work whatever they're doing in the fantasy world into something that sounds like an applicable ordinary world job they could be shadowing). I think with some brainstorming, there are good options here.

3 - Ordinary Family is From Magical World - Another option, if it would work, would be for the adoptive "ordinary world" family to actually be from the magical world. If it would work with the MC's birth story and whatever led to them being placed in the fantasy world, maybe instead of being placed with an ordinary world family, they were sent to the ordinary world with a magical world family who is just waiting for them to be old enough to return to their rightful place. Or, you could even hybrid a little here, and maybe the MC was sent with a magical world adoptive mom or dad to the ordinary world, and there the magical world parent met an ordinary world love interest, and they started an ordinary world family together. That way, the MC's family can already have a foot in both worlds, and you can have the ordinary world parent already know the situation. That way, the MC can return to the magical world, but maybe communicate through the other family member (who maybe can travel back and forth or has powers that allows for the communication, or whatever.) Again, lots of possibilities.

I hope something here will work for you! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & FEEDBACK COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

[blushweddinggowns]

When Steve’s mom forced him to get a tutor for biology, he was not happy.  Frankly, he was pissed. Sure he was sitting on a solid D- and yeah he wasn’t exactly known for his academic prowess, but it still sucked. He didn’t have time for tutoring. He had things to do, especially when it came to Sundays. It was one of only two days a week when Steve got Eddie all to himself, no band practice, no sports, no Hellfire, just the two of them. 

But Eddie, the goddamn hypocrite was actually on his mom’s side.

“I’m just saying that it would help with the college thing.” He said, rolling his eyes at the way Steve glared at him. Maybe it would have been more intimidating if he wasn’t currently straddling his lap and playing with a piece of Eddie’s hair, but Steve was too comfortable to move, even if he was pissy. 

“Y’know, there’s a solid chance nothing I do will be good enough for a college.”

“Well then at least we can say you tried, can't we?"

“I’m just saying, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment if you think I’m just going to start academically succeeding out of nowhere. My dumbass won’t be our ticket out of here,”  Steve sighed, ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes softened at his words. He was staring downward, eyes focused on a suddenly interesting bleach stain on Eddie’s shirt. 

"You’re not stupid Stevie."

And as sweet as that was, it wasn’t true. He was a straight C- student on a good year, and that took effort. And yeah, the two of them may be in the same ballpark with their grades, but it was different. Eddie was actually smart, just not when it came to people outside of Wayne and Steve telling him what to do. He taught himself how to draw, how to write, Jesus, he basically taught himself how to read, all while living in a house from hell for his formative years. He didn’t know what it was like to be truly dumb. He missed 2⁄3 of middle school and he was still doing better in English than Steve was. 

Steve could feel his eyes start to get wet as he sniffed, instantly annoyed at himself for getting emotional over something so stupid. But at least it fits the profile, stupid people do stupid things. 

He didn’t fight it when Eddie hooked a finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at him. He kissed him first, two light pecks to his lips before mumbling against his mouth, “I could never be disappointed in you. You could drop out tomorrow and I’d still love you as much as I do now.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile a little at that, “Yeah?”

“You know I would. And well…in all honesty babe I always thought drug price inflation was going to be our ticket out of here. I have been overcharging ninth graders for like, a year and a half now.”

Steve smacked his lightly in the chest for that, even if it made him laugh, “Ass. If you can’t trust your local drug dealer then who can you trust?”

“Not my fault I have a family to take care of,” Eddie grinned, swooping in for another kiss, "But seriously baby you're not stupid."

Steve opened his mouth to argue but Eddie slapped a hand over it before he had a chance, “And I know you don’t want to hear it but you’re not. Who was the one to find out that Rick was shortchanging me?”

Steve rolled his eyes. That didn’t even count. He was just the first one to notice that the numbers Rick had written didn’t match up with what the scale said, and the first one to threaten him over it. Eddie would have figured it out eventually. 

But he let it go, mumbling beneath his hand,  “I did.”

“And who saved us fifty bucks in rent after threatening the landlord with a lawsuit?”

That…that shouldn’t have counted either. Steve had been on a cleaning kick that day and just happened to stumble across an old copy of their lease. And he only read through it because he was bored waiting for Eddie to come home. And the only reason he knew there were violations was because he spent nearly 80 percent of his time there, and yeah maybe he was good at threatening people with legal jargon, but that was only because he retained shit he’d heard from his dad.

“I did but-”

“But nothing,” Eddie interrupted, “Because you were also the guy who actually paid attention during CPR class and saved that lady from drowning sophomore year. And you’re managing to scam your parents into giving you money while banging gay trailer trash. If that’s not smart, I don’t know what is. So I think that you're more than capable of passing a biology midterm. And even if you're not it won’t erase all of the other things you’ve done. Understand?”

Steve blushed, a confusing mix of annoyed and pleased at the praise. Part of him still wanted to fight him, even if everything he said was technically true. But a bigger part wanted to get back to kissing him, and he knew Eddie wouldn’t let it go without him conceding at least a little. 

“I understand,” Steve sighed, “But if I’m a big fat failure at this you’re still contractually obligated to love me.”

He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck, eyes darting to his lips every few seconds while Eddie chuckled, “Baby, you could try to kill me and I’d still love you.”

Steve leaned back in, tired of waiting. He licked over Eddie’s lips, smiling when he obediently opened his mouth so he could slip his tongue inside. Besides, maybe he was right, maybe Steve could handle it, but it didn’t matter either way. As long as Eddie loved him, he’d be fine. 

And that’s how Steve found himself being shaken awake by Eddie on a Sunday for freaking studying. Yeah the make-out session from last week had been pretty convincing but it was a whole different thing in the light of day. 

He groaned at the sound of Eddie’s voice, purposefully loud as he sang out, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”

Steve buried his face in his pillow, groaning again when Eddie took that as an invite to sit on him. He leaned over, whispering in his ear, “If you wake up now I’ll make it worth your while.”

Steve giggled, immediately charmed by the asshole who was already starting to tickle his sides, “What, like you did last night? How are you going to top that?”

Eddie whispered a few more things in his ear, some very interesting things that suddenly left certain parts of Steve very much awake. He pushed Eddie off of him before jumping out of bed, scrambling to put on the loosest pair of sweats he owned while Eddie laughed behind him. 

They went downstairs together, and somehow Steve only managed to embarrass himself twice during the whole interaction. It helped that Nancy ended up being  one of the most patient people on the planet, always willing to re-explain the things that Steve didn’t get on the first try. It helped even more knowing that Eddie was in the other room, like his presence alone was his own personal security blanket, even if all he was doing was snoring on the couch. 

The whole thing wasn’t nearly as bad as Steve had been expecting. He had kind of thought that the daughter of someone who could stand to be friends with his mom would be…well a bitch. But Nancy was nothing like that. She was straightforward and to the point, but also kind with 0 condescension to Steve’s lack of studying skills. 

They drove her home after, and he had to admit she dealt with him and Eddie bickering over the radio like a champ. Eventually she just threw her hands up and batted both of them away, with a stern, “Passenger side gets to pick!”

But at least he knew who ABBA was now, and Steve was a pretty big fan of both their music and the way it made Eddie cringe. He kept it on the whole ride home and surprisingly enough, he was actually looking forward to their next session. 

He thought that would be the next time he saw her, so imagine his surprise when he walked into first period with Nancy Wheeler already seated by the window, a book in hand. That was new. He walked up to her, taking the desk in front so he could turn back. She didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in her book. He gently tapped on her desk, knowing from previous experience that it was really easy to jumpscare people when they were absorbed in reading.

She glanced up at him, surprise written all over her face. Which made sense, this was probably the first class they’d ever had together.

He smiled at her, “When did you get added to this class?”

Steve frowned when she looked away from him before answering, voice quiet, “I’ve uh, been here all year actually.”

Steve blinked at her, stomach twisting in a knot. Oh. Oh no. Could he look like a bigger dick? But maybe he could still save this, “Oh. Then I guess this is what you meant when you said we’ve met before?”

Nancy shook her head, still looking anywhere but at Steve’s face, “It was uh, actually last year? We were lab partners in Mrs. Kay's chemistry class. And um, I guess as a warning I’m also in your History class. And uh, Biology. That’s why I’m your tutor.”

Steve stared at her, mouth opening and closing like an idiot. He knew that he was a bit notorious for his one track mind, but he didn’t realize that it was that bad, “I am so sorry.”

She shrugged, “It’s not your fault I’m forgettable.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but the next thing he knew he was being shushed by the teacher and Nancy was already back to reading. He wiped a hand down his face, mind already racing on just what he could do to make up for accidentally ignoring her existence for a year plus. But by the time class ended and he turned around she was already walking out of the door. 

She was fast for such a little person. And despite the fact that they apparently had three classes together he couldn’t manage to catch her once. He whined to Eddie about it the whole way home, glaring at him when he had the audacity to laugh. Steve was still pouting about it by the time they walked through the front door of the trailer, especially since Eddie was still giggling behind him. 

“Babe, I said I was sorry! And hey, at least you didn’t fake date her right?”

Steve groaned as he flopped down into their bed, only the slightest bit appeased when he felt Eddie tug his shoes off for him, “Lab partners is so much worse. I didn’t even know her name until last week. I’m awful.”

“Oh come on, you can still win her over!” Eddie said as he plopped down next to him, laughing when Steve immediately started to play with his hair, “You just got to use some of that signature Harrington charm.”

Steve sighed as he twisted a lock of Eddie's hair around his finger, trying and failing to make his brain come up with an answer. But then it hit him, “Hey, do you still have enough stuff here to make more muffins?”

Eddie raised a brow at him, “Are you going to try and bribe her into liking you with chocolate?”

“If you make them for me I will,”  Steve was trying to put on his most convincing face, the cute one that almost always got Eddie to do what he wanted. And it seemed to be working if the way his eyes softened was anything to go by. 

Eddie sighed, pretending to think about it for a second, “What’s in it for me?”

Steve leaned into kiss him, two quick pecks to the side of his mouth before saying, “My undying love?”

Steve loved how something so corny was enough to make Eddie melt, “Deal.”

God, he was so easy. 

He left Eddie to bake while he drove all the way back to his house. There were a lot of other things he’d rather be doing than digging around in his mom’s desolate wrapping paper drawer in the middle of the night, but he made it work. 

By the time he got back to the trailer they were baked and cooled, and Steve made sure to give Eddie a thorough kiss for his efforts. He wrapped a few of them up in some purple cellophane, paired with a pink and white bow, the least ugly combination he was able to find at one a.m.

He added a small white card, scribbling a little something into it before presenting it to Eddie in bed, “Tada! What do you think?”

Eddie laughed as he took it from him to inspect, in good spirits despite the fact that Steve insisted he stayed awake until it was finished. He seemed just as impressed with his handiwork as Steve was, “I think it’s perfect."

Steve preened, “You think she’ll like it?”

“She’ll love it,” Eddie reassured before gently placing it on the nightstand. He grabbed Steve’s arm, hauling him down from his sitting position to nearly laying on top of him before grabbing a blanket to cover them both up in, “Now can we please go to sleep?”

Steve didn’t argue when Eddie went to turn off the light. He was right, especially since he was going to make them wake up early on top of it.

The next morning Steve was actually in class early. For the first time in well…ever. But Nancy had still beat him there. She was in her usual place, nose in her book. She didn’t even look up when Steve sat in front of her, but she did startle a bit when he dropped the gift on her desk. 

He grinned at her, way too excited for her reaction, “These are for you! To say I’m sorry for y’know. Being oblivious.”

Nancy looked at the muffins and back to Steve, a small smile slowly growing on her face, “You made me apology muffins?”

“Well…Eddie made them,” Steve admitted, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “But I helped! And did the decorating and wrote the card.”

Nancy plucked the small card off the ribbon. She read it out loud, her small smile transforming into a full blown grin, “‘I’m Sorry I’m an Asshole.’ I’m guessing you did the little frowny face too?”

Steve nodded, “I may have the art skills of a ten year old but I do mean it. You’re not forgettable Nancy. I’m just an inconsiderate moron. Okay?”

Nancy stared down at the gift in her hands before looking back to Steve, voice soft, “I…thanks. I appreciate that.”

They talked for a while after that and Steve was pretty sure he was planted firmly on the path of forgiveness. But he wanted to be 100 percent sure. He had made it this far, why not push a little more?

“Do you want to have lunch together today?”

Nancy looked more than a little surprised at the request, “Oh, I already have plans with Barb.”

Steve shrugged, “She can come too. The four of us can go to Benny's and get some burgers or something.”

“Isn’t that against school rules?”

Steve smiled to himself. He forgot for a second that he was talking to a goody two shoes over here, “Only if you get caught. And if we did Eddie and I would take the blame, scout’s honor.”

She bit her lip, hesitating before finally nodding her head, “If Barb says yes then, um, sure.”

That was good enough for Steve, even if he had no clue who Barb was. But he’d trust Nancy’s judgment. And surprisingly the whole thing goes a lot better than Steve had been expecting. He was a little scared that their table would be dead quiet after they all realized they had nothing in common, a completely unfounded fear considering that Eddie was with them. He had a knack for getting people to open their mouths, even if it was only to tell him to shut up. And that little skill was great to get both girls to open up a little. 

Turns out Steve and Nancy actually had something in common, a mutual love for Blondies, in particular Heart of Glass, while Barb and Eddie both agreed that it was one of the most annoying things they’d ever heard. They created a united front to tease them both over it, and Nancy and Steve bonded over just how misunderstood Deborah Harry was. 

It was fun, fun enough for Eddie to invite them both to lunch more and more often. Nancy says yes more than Barb, who is surprisingly busy with a few of her extracurriculars. But it’s still fun. Nancy’s fun. And soon spending lunch together turns into inviting her over to watch a movies with him and Eddie at the trailer, or getting food while Eddie was caught up in Hellfire or Band practice. 

It all snowballs into the two of them spending a lot more time together, most of it outside of their tutoring sessions. And Steve was starting to think that he had actually managed to make a friend.  The real cincher is just how well she gets along with Eddie, and watching them both laugh together was enough to make Steve feel all warm and happy inside. 

Because he likes Nancy. Like, really likes her. Like doesn’t want to throw her to the wayside likes her. She’s smart and kind, a little strict in a weird but pleasant way. And sometimes he’ll look at her and Barb doing something, something as casual as whispering to each other at  the lockers, all smiles and shared secrets, and Steve can’t help but want that. 

Because he doesn’t really have his own friends outside of Eddie. He has his teammates sure, but it’s not like he can let himself get too close to them. Then there were Eddie’s friends, and they were all great, really, but they weren’t…his. There was Wayne, but as much as he loved him he’d always be more of a parent then a friend. That said, Eddie was still his best friend. He loved Eddie, he loved Eddie more than anything on the planet. 

But he can’t…talk to Eddie about Eddie. And yeah, maybe it was a bit too feminine to want to gossip about your boyfriend at the lockers with a new girl bestie. But then again, he probably lost his “man” card the second he shoved his tongue down Eddie's throat for the first time. And it’s not just that he wants someone to talk about his relationship. He wants her to be able to talk to him too. Whether it be her own crushes or complaining about her parents, he wanted to connect with her more. It sounded…fun. Maybe gay as hell but whatever. Technically it was fitting. 

But he knew that he couldn’t have that if he didn’t tell her the truth. 

~

 From this fic, and the 1.5 Part of this post

Part 2 Part 3

@missarte-beltane

Idk tag etiquette so I only added the person who asked for it because I don't want to be annoying! But if you want to be added let me know!

#the universe trapped in your skin #secret relationship steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #stranger things #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #steve harrington #this is going somewhere other than Nancy just getting her heart broken I swear #steddie #the fic is not sfw just so you know #steddie childhood friends au #sfw version

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Now She's Gone

Summary; It's been two and a half years since Steve achieved his dream of being a rockstar. It's also been two and a half years since he broke your heart.

Back in Hawkins for a one-off show he doesn't expect you to have moved on and who you've moved on with.

Warnings; Angst, angst, past heartache, Eddie is a sweetie, Steve is a dick, mentions of past cheating, rockstar Steve.

Past Steve x Ex! Reader

Eddie Munson x Reader

If you enjoyed this pls leave a like or reblog :) Ty ❣️

Posted this the other day but my dumb ass accidentally deleted it 😫 enjoy 💕

I dont give anyone permission to copy my work.

❤️

Heard she's engaged but to her best friend, no ones to blame.

here's where it all ends and I feel the pain, cause im without her.

I feel the pain.

🌸💕

Steve had everything he could possibly want. Fame, money, the adulation of thousands of fans and sex with different women whenever he wanted.

A rockstar life.

He had long forgotten about the woman that he left behind in Hawkins, who's heart he shattered into a million pieces.

You didn't matter because it's not like he was ever back in Hawkins to see you again, to feel the guilt over how things ended between you two.

Until now.

His manager had decided to host a one-off concert in Hawkins and he was not happy.

Okay, so it was nice seeing Dustin and the other little nuggets and Robin but he was still fuming.

The thing that made his heart beat out of his chest? That stopped him in his tracks?

It was seeing you. Looking so beautiful, your smile big and infectious, then he catches the glint on your finger and his stomach drops.

An engagement ring. It's a gut punch and he feels like he can't breathe.

What did he expect though? He's been gone for over 2 and a half years.

Did he expect you to still be single? That was fucking stupid.

Who was the douchebag you were marrying? It doesn't take long for him to find out as Eddie the freak Munson comes up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you until your giggling.

You look so in love it makes him sick.

"What the fuck" he says a little too loudly and it attracts your attention and Eddie who's face falls.

Instead of looking happy to see him, you look stunned and then annoyed. You turn away from him and instead go to hug Dustin who then comes bounding up to him.

He's still in shock and knows this trip won't be smooth sailing at all. In fact, it might be the hardest thing he's ever done.

🌸

Steve knew it was stupid asking you for another chance, stupidly arrogant and a bad idea but he couldn't stop thinking about you after seeing you with Eddie.

After a set check he decided to check at your place of work to see you. You worked with Nancy on the town paper.

Nancy seeing him gave him the most evil eye he had ever received.

Boy was it a bad idea. He expected you to be annoyed but the look on your face nearly sent him scarpering for cover when you saw him.

It got even worse when he told you why he came to see you.

Your chest was heaving, eyes flashing and you let out the loudest, most fierce "What the fuck?" he had ever heard.

Then you started laughing and only stopped when he grabbed you by the hands.

"I'm serious honey, we were good together and Munson? seriously? You think that loser freak can keep you happy?"

That was the worst thing he could have said because he was sure there were sparks coming from you now.

"How dare you! Seriously how fucking dare you!!" he shrugs.

"So that's a no?" you snort and walk towards him and he takes a step back, yeah maybe he might have fucked up.

"Eddie Munson is more of a man than you'll ever be Steve Harrington" he scoffs and

"Come on. I'm rich, can give you anything you want babe, we were good together" you shake your head.

"I dont give a fuck how rich you are, you completely shattered my heart, Steve! We were together for two years and the minute you get famous you string me along, sleep with models and then ditch me because I wasn't good for your fucking rockstar life"

Steve swallows and tries to think of something to say but he can't because you cut him off still ranting.

"You broke my heart and Eddie and our friends helped me heal and move on. Especially, Eddie, he was there for me every single day, held me when I cried, made me feel like I was worth something when I felt like absolute shit"

It's all coming out now and you feel good that you can get this all out in the open, built up anger and grief pours out of you.

"I finally asked myself after poring over photos of you surrounded by all your groupies and girls why the hell was I so upset over you!!"

He looks contrite now and doesn't make any attempt to say anything.

"I realised how amazing Eddie was, how sweet and kind and just gorgeous inside and out and I fell in love with him and he makes me happy. Happier than I ever was with you"

Steve storms out by that point fuming at what you said. He wanted to see Eddie and give him a piece of his mind.

❤️

Eddie didn't expect to see Harrington at his door, he was waiting for you to come home after your shift.

His fist tightens and he wants nothing more than to punch Steve in his perfect teeth.

"What do you want Steve?" Steve gives Eddie a long searching look and holds his hands up.

"Come on man. This is about yn and you know it. You and her? A loser like you. Yn deserves better. So why don't you step aside dude"

Disbelief then anger floods through Eddie and he walks up to Steve who looks a bit concerned.

"I dont have anything to prove to you, Harrington but for your information I own the biggest motor servicing unit in Indianna but it's great to see you're the same spiteful douchebag you've always been"

Steve takes a second and is ready to bite back with a retort but Eddie doesn't listen and glares at him.

"I dont give a fuck what you want Steve, you broke my girl's heart and your friends, me, Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy, fuck even Jason helped her heal. You had your chance and you blew it" Eddie takes a calming breath then makes his point clear.

"I won't make the same mistake you did, I assure you. I know how lucky I am and I will never ever hurt yn in any way. I love her, we are meant for each other. Back the fuck off and get out of my sight"

You come in at that point and see Steve, your eyes flash and you look murderous.

"Is he bothering you, baby?" you ask him and Eddie shakes his head.

"No, no he's leaving Princess" he assures you and you look pointedly at Steve who seems to get the hint and leaves.

Or so you think, you don't realise he's listening at the door.

❤️

Eddie looks at you his face pained and he swallows, he's tried not to let Steve's barbs get to him but it's hard.

"You know with Steve back. I could understand if you wanted to be with him, he was the love of your life"

You soften and stroke his cheek, gently kissing away the tears.

"I love you, Edward Munson, you're the love of my life. Not Steve. Only you. I don't want Steve back at all, he broke my heart and left me in pieces. You're who I want to be with, only you"

Eddie smiles and rests his head against yours his fears slowly easing.

"I love you so much. I'd never hurt you like Steve did sweetheart. I'm so fucking lucky to be with you" you kiss him fiercely.

"Pretty sure I'm the lucky one Eds"

Steve swallows as he watches the scene, watches how you look so happy with Eddie, the way he is head over heels for you and you him.

Jealousy courses through his body but he can't blame anyone but himself for losing you.

He was the idiot, he preferred time with groupies and models to you, he broke your heart and Eddie and your friends helped piece it back together.

He can't wait to get out of this fucking town and that's what he does after the gig, he drives out of the town, past the Leaving Hawkins sign and an array of emotions flit through him.

There's wetness on his cheeks and it stuns him. He pinches his nose hard to keep the tears at bay and it takes him a second to realise that it's the first time he's cried since you and him broke up.

It's stupid because he doesn't need you, he could have any girl he wanted.

It doesn't stop him from finally after all this time cursing his stupidity for losing you.

I feel her slipping through my fingers now she's gone. I'm sleeping with the light on.

And shocks went through my veins now, that she's gone.

I'm sleeping with the light on.

Song lyrics by Busted-Sleeping with the light on.

❤️

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington angst #eddie x reader #steve x reader

[icallhimjoey]

Are you still gonna post any Christmas fics 👀

merry christmas to all, and to all a good night Wordcount: 1.3K

----

Core Christmas Memories 🎅🏻

"I don't want to say it's a bit much, but... it's..."

"It's a lot." Joe agreed with you, but he smiled proudly as he stepped back and admired his work.

Joe had turned your full living room upside down. He'd drank some of the milk, ate some of the biscuits, and then made the place look like Father Christmas had been drunk when delivering presents.

There were throw pillows strewn about, some of Hazel's lighter toys carefully placed onto the tree, chairs from the dining table knocked over and some placed upside down onto the coffee table. Your throw blankets had turned the dining table into a den and you knew Hazel was going to particularly love that a lot. Joe had placed everything down very carefully, and had taken his job very seriously.

"Hazel's not gonna know what hit her,"

"She won't understand, babe," you warned with a smile. "She might be too young still, I don't know,"

"Never too young to at least feel a little wonder," Joe kissed you on the cheek before turning off the lights. "Of course, we're gonna be so shocked," Joe instructed as you made your way into the bedroom. "So shocked," you confirmed. "She'll copy us immediately and then won't shut up about it for years to come,"

Slipping into bed, you were quick to find each other and cuddled up close together.

"You think?" you asked, and prayed that Joe was right.

"Absolutely, are you joking? The time Father Christmas brought presents and absolutely wrecked the place? This is core memory type of shit, trust me,"

You hummed in satisfaction, so very pleased that Joe was putting so much effort into his first proper Christmas morning with you and Hazel. You feared it would end up being mostly memories for himself, and that everything would be completely lost on Hazel.

"What's your first Christmas memory?" you asked, trying to at least drive home your point a little.

"Oh, I was definitely two."

You couldn't help but laugh softly.

"Yea?" you nuzzled closer.

"Oh yea, absolutely."

"Mine's from when I was like... eight," you said, and made Joe burst into loud laughter, only for you to immediately shush him through giggles of your own.

Hazel was asleep down the hall and had been particularly difficult at bed time that night. You didn't blame her, though.

Joe had been chasing her around after dinner, growling noises and all, climbing over the sofa and jumping over chairs. It had Hazel running, screaming and laughing, trying to find safety in your arms as you sat on the sofa and watched them. Hadn't worked. Joe's tickling fingers had found her in your lap just as well as he would've found her anywhere else. Hazel was left intoxicated by her own giggles and Joe's crinkled eyes as he saw his effect on her.

It had been the most heartwarming before-bed entertainment you had ever had, but it riled Hazel up so much, it was nearly impossible to wind her back down. Especially now that she was in her new big girl bed that she could easily climb out of whenever she so pleased.

It had taken you a long time to put her down.

"She's going to love it, I just know it," Joe said and you felt him press a kiss to your temple.

You woke up by Joe launching himself from your bed and flying into the hallway. You were sure that he heard Hazel in her bedroom and was quick to go and get her.

For a second, you thought maybe you'd get some morning cuddles in bed with them, but when you heard Joe coo, "Hazel, it's Christmas morning!" from her bedroom, you knew it was probably smart to swing your legs over the edge of the bed and get up and out as well.

There was no way you were going to miss this.

Meeting each other in the hallway, Hazel in her soft Christmas pyjamas and her tangled, messed up hair, Joe in a white T-shirt and his boxers, you all had a cute half cuddle together where you and Joe had a kiss, wished each other a merry Christmas and tried to get Hazel to say it too. Little Hazel was still too sleepy to want to speak and let her head rest on Joe's shoulder as he held her.

"Wait, let me get my phone," you said, rushing back to the bedroom to grab it from the charger.

You were going to need to film this so at least you could maybe show Hazel one day when she was older. Artificial memories from photos and videos were memories none the less, weren't they?

"Did Father Christmas come by? Will there be presents, do you think?" Joe spoke softly as he waited for you before opening the door to the living room.

You opened the camera app, swiped to video and started recording as Joe gave you a questioning look, already holding the door handle.

"Yea?"

Joe looked at the camera briefly as you nodded, and then his eyes turned to Hazel as he opened the door.

Joe had left the Christmas tree lights on the night before, for maximum magic in this moment. It was still dark outside, and the clustered lights lit up the room just enough for Hazel to be able to see the mess, the plate of half eaten biscuits and a massive pile of gifts underneath the tree.

Joe gasped loudly and watched Hazel closely for her reaction. Hazel stared into the room with a blank face, sort of panning around the space, and then rubbed an eye with a small fist.

You filmed Joe's face, and realised that, actually, the face you wanted to remember from this moment was Joe's. Joe, who was so excited he got to be a proper father to your baby girl for Christmas now. Joe, who had spent night after night wrapping up gifts, wasting so much wrapping paper and tape because he kept doing it wrong. Joe, who had taken care that you had all the food you'd ever need for Christmas day in your fridge. Who had taken the time to make your living room a big old mess, just because he thought it would be so very special for Hazel. Hazel, who barely understood what Christmas even was, but would surely be excited to unwrap some gifts and find new toys inside.

But Joe looked so excited. So full of wonder. Full of love.

You filmed Joe and Joe alone, zoomed in on his expressions as he whispered things to Hazel, feigned shock at the state of the place, eyebrows up so high on his face as he pointed around at various areas.

You filmed Joe as he squeezed your daughter tightly, pressed a kiss to her cheek just before she pointed at the gifts under the tree and he put her down.

Joe smiled at the camera when he saw that you didn't follow Hazel with it, and pointed for you to pan to her. You did, and filmed how she inspected the gifts, not even slightly bothered by her toys in the tree, or the chairs on the coffee table.

Joe walked into frame and sat down next to Hazel by the tree and you watched over your phone, wanting to see them without a screen in between you, and you felt a surprise tear escape your eye.

"Hazel," you called softly, and it made her look up at you. "Merry Christmas, baby,"

"Mehwy Gibsmas," Hazel said back and smiled at you through sleepy eyes.

Maybe these weren't memories meant for Joe, or for Hazel.

Maybe these memories were meant just for you.

-----

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @jenisnotlost @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff - (tag list currently full)

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfic #baby hazel #fanfiction #fluff #joe quinn fluff #joseph quinn fluff #christmas imagine

[octuscle]

I miss my best friend! I think he was screwing around with the Chronivac and got turned into some Junior High 'Gymbro' by someone on your support team! I have no interest in the gym, but I miss him, we grew up together man!

Okay, yes I think I remember that case. It's been a while… I hope that's your pal you're missing:

He graduated junior high some time ago, he's a sophomore in high school now. And one of the most popular lads in school. No wonder, he's really hot. And I regret, he won't remember you as you look today with your not very athletic body in your early 30s. Dating someone like you would be pure social poison in high school. But you want to be his best friend again? I can help you with that. It's Sunday night, get your stuff together, you have to go back to school tomorrow morning.

After dinner, you sit in front of the TV as usual. Actually, you would like to continue watching your favorite series on Netflix. But instead you watch soccer. You don't get what the Europeans think of it. Lame game… But the lads on the field look sexy. So sexy that you jerk off. You like the cool hairstyles, especially when their hair is wet with sweat. The shiny jerseys. The lads are bursting with athleticism. Fast, agile. Not those clumsy bodybuilding hunks. Hehehe, and the jersey shorts damp from precum just feel awesome. You have to pee during the half-time break. In front of the mirror, you think to yourself that maybe you're a little too old for the cool undercut cut you copied from your idol. Well, you've been seriously training at your soccer club after work for a year now. But that doesn't make you a soccer star. Nevertheless, the hairstyle is very cool. You take another non-alcoholic isotonic beer and fever with your team in front of the TV through the super exciting second half. When the redeeming goal is finally scored, you almost spill the rest of the beer over your sofa in your jubilation.

Actually, you could watch your series for another hour or two. But there is still the summary of the last game day to come. You will watch it. With a last beer. It's now almost 22:00. Another round of running before you go to bed? No, you'd rather do a few sit-ups and get up early enough tomorrow to get it done before work. The soccer posters in your bedroom are a bit childish, aren't they? But you are a fan. You even have bed linen from your club. Soccer star… That would be a great life… You think and fall asleep.

At 02:00 o'clock you wake up. Your hard-on is almost painful. You can't remember the dream anymore. But you are thirsty and quietly, so as not to wake your roommates in the frat house, you go to the bathroom and drink a sip of water. Your cock has recovered and dangles magnificently between your worked out thighs. You proudly stroke your six-pack. Yes, you are already rightly a favorite of the spectators. Fuck, actually you would like to jerk off now. But you have to go to bed, you need your sleep.

At 06:00 o'clock your mother sticks her head into your bedroom and whispers "Get up, sweetheart". You hate that. You're almost 17. You're one of the most promising goalies in the state. You're not a sweetheart anymore. But secretly you are grateful to your mother. You would have overslept for sure. And the hour of running before school is a must. Sometimes you envy your pal. Bodybuilding is just less time-consuming. Football is hard work. Still, you prefer it. Gym is just not your thing.

Training today was great. Every word of praise from the coach makes you feel good! Nevertheless, you are now looking forward to the cafeteria. Actually, the lads from the soccer team don't sit with the pumpers. Your best buddy and you are an exception. But hey, you're both some of the cool lads. Have fun and enjoy high school life.

More pics like that at @cutesoccerguys

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #age reduction

[galaxyquakeflakes]

A Daughter for a Daughter (2)

*The fact that I got any notes on the 1st post makes me very happy! Thank you!!*

Pairing: Neteyam x fem|human OC

Summary: Neteyam and Pixie sneak out for a late night flight around Pandora and get an unexpected surprise.

Word Count: 3840

Links: (Previous) (Next)

---

They landed back in the village followed shortly by Kiri and Lo’ak. The villagers congratulated the younger kids on getting their ikran. Neytiri especially was pleased to see her kids returned safely and presented them with their own visors.

The other kids and Jake returned with their ikran a little later. By then Pixie was sitting down in a weaving circle, putting together baskets. Tuk was sitting beside her trying to copy Pixie’s work.

“Over and under like that.” Pixie showed her. “You’re getting really good at this. You been taking lessons on the sly?”

“Maybe I’m just that good.” Tuk replied cheekily.

Pixie smiled and ruffled her hair. “Maybe you are, kiddo.”

“Pixie.” Jake came over and knelt down next to her. “I got a message from your parents that they want you home.”

“Oh come on! It’s not even close to eclipse! Why do I need to go back now?”

“Don’t know what to tell you, sweet pea.” he shrugged, “They just said you needed to come home and you needed to do it now. You want a ride?”

“No. I’ll be fine walking.” Pixie sighed. “Tuk, can you finish this for me?” she handed her half done basket to her.

“Sure thing! See you tomorrow, Pixie.” Tuk waved and went back to work.

Well this was annoying! Why did her parents want her home so early? It wasn’t like it was a movie night or anything. She had actually told them that she was probably going to be back late. So what was with the rush? At least she could take her time going home. She wouldn’t be able to hang out with everyone but it was less time cooped up in the lab.

“Pixie!” Lo’ak saw Pixie leaving. “Where you going?”

“Parents called me back to the lab. I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She told him and continued into the forest. She hadn’t gotten very far before she heard someone following her. “Lo’ak? That you?”

“No. Just me.” Neteyam emerged from the foliage. “He told me you were heading back to the labs. I can give you a ride if you need it.”

“I want to walk. But thanks.” Pixie wasn’t exactly in the mood for a ride with Neteyam right now.

“I’ll escort you home then.” he fell into step next to her, matching his strides to keep pace with her.

“That’s not necessary. I am more than capable of getting back on my own.”

“I know. I guess what I really wanted was a chance to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Why you got all distant from me earlier?” he nudged her slightly, “Was it because I flipped us upside down on Mekul?”

“No. I didn’t really care about that.”

“Then what’s going on?” he flicked Pixie’s braid over her shoulder. “I promised myself I wouldn’t push you for an answer but you’re my friend. I want to know what’s upsetting you.”

“It’s nothing. Seriously, don’t worry about it. You worry about everyone else enough, you don’t need to be hovering over me too.” Pixie crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to get into things right now. It was all too complicated and she wasn’t even sure herself what it was that was bothering her. She needed time to think.

“Is it…is it because of what Lo’ak said? He kept teasing us. Did his comments upset you?”

Pixie paused for a moment before continuing on, her heartbeat a touch quicker than before. “Don’t be ridiculous. Since when has Lo’ak’s teasing ever been a problem for me?”

“Maybe it hasn’t been a problem for you but I didn’t appreciate it.”

“We really don’t need to talk about it, Neteyam.”

“I think we do.”

“Why?”

“Because…” he looked down at her. Sometimes he forgot just how small she was compared to him. The growth spurt he hit last year didn’t help matters. There used to be a time when the height difference was a lot less dramatic. He missed those times. He missed how simpler things felt back then. He didn’t need to contend with these new thoughts and feelings.

“Because you’re my best friend. I care a lot about you and I want to make sure you’re comfortable.” he said.

Pixie’s shoulders relaxed. “I appreciate that. I really do. But I’m fine. I swear.”

“If you are sure.” he stopped walking, “I’ll let you go if you want to be alone.”

Pixie sighed and held out a hand. “You’re already here. You might as well escort me the rest of the way like the good golden boy you are.” He smiled before taking it, her small five fingers locking with his longer four.

The walk from the village to the labs was not long and it was only a matter of time before they had arrived. Pixie let go of his hand as they got closer. “Millie!” her dad was outside, arms crossed. “And Neteyam. Good, I need to speak to both of you.”

That wasn’t a good sign. “What’s up dad?” Pixie asked.

“Get inside and I’ll show you.” His mustache was quivering. He was really pissed about something.

Neteyam and Pixie ducked inside the lab. She took off her mask and took a deep breath of air she could actually breathe. Neteyam grabbed one of the packs that let him breathe and followed Pixie’s dad into the main hub. Pixie’s mom was waiting for them there. The situation was looking worse for them and she had no idea why. What was going on?

“Oh Millie,” her mother tsked, “Your hair is a mess! Get over here, I’ll fix it.”

Pixie rolled her eyes but followed and plopped herself down in a chair. Her mother started undoing the long braid down Pixie’s back and used her hands to card through the many knots and tangles that had accumulated. “Sorry. We were out flying today.” Pixie said.

“Yes. We know.” her dad went over to one of the screens and pulled up a video. It looked to be drone footage. They fast forwarded a bit, and on the screen was someone flying an ikran. Oh wait, it wasn’t just someone. It was Pixie and Neteyam this morning. “Care to explain what in the hell happened here?” he pointed as video of Pixie falling off the ikran and being caught by Neteyam again played.

“Oh uh I…”

“I’m sorry. It was my fault.” Neteyam stepped forward. “We were flying and she slipped off. I hadn’t checked to make sure she was tethered before we took off.”

“And why is it that you didn’t make sure you were tethered before take off, Millie? You’re smarter than that. It’s not his job to make sure you’re staying safe.”

“Sorry dad.” Pixie didn’t like Neteyam taking the fall for her but she also recognized that simply slipping off was a lot more forgivable than telling them she intentionally dropped off. “I’ll be more responsible in the future.”

“You will be. You are grounded for a week. I mean that literally. No flying at all and no leaving the labs.”

“But dad!”

“I said what I said, Millie. I know you’re a smart kid so you gotta learn the consequences of what happens when you behave stupidly.”

“Mom?” Pixie turned around to look at her mom. She had combed out the worst tangles and picked out the little bits of leaf and twigs that had gotten knotted in her hair.

“You heard your father. No flying.” her mom gave her a hug, “You could have seriously gotten hurt, pumpkin.”

“But I’m fine!”

“Millie. Stop arguing.” her dad snapped. “Your friends can come visit but you are restricted to the lab for the next week. Now go wash up and do some of your school work. You’re falling behind in your earth history studies.”

“Earth history is so boring and sad!”

“It’s your homeworld. You need to learn about it.”

“Pandora is my homeworld! I was literally born here!” Pixie huffed but meandered back to her room. Neteyam followed her back.

“Pixie? You okay?” Neteyam asked, hovering in the doorway.

“I’m fine.” she sighed. She motioned for him to come in and close the door. “You know you didn’t have to take the blame like that.”

“Used to it.” he shrugged.

“That’s another thing. You need to stop taking the blame for Lo’ak when he does stupid stuff too. He’s not gonna learn anything if you keep trying to protect him.” Pixie looked around at the state of her room and attempted to do some cleaning, which mainly consisted throwing food wrappers in the trash and straightening the covers on her bed. Neteyam was used to it but she always got a little sheepish about the state of it considering he was always so neat and tidy with his stuff.

Neteyam followed her around with the garbage can, holding it out for her. “I’m his older brother, I’m supposed to keep him safe.” he said.

“Keep him safe? Yes. Keep him from getting in trouble for doing stupid shit? No.”

“So I should go back there and tell your parents that the real reason you fell was because you jumped off?” he smirked at her.

“Don’t you dare! I’ll never step foot outside of these labs for the rest of my life if they hear that.” She chucked a crumpled botany note at him. It rebounded off his chest and fell into the trash can.

Neteyam grabbed one of her books and reclined on her bed as she stepped into the bathroom for a shower. While she didn’t mind being a little grimy and dirty out in the jungle there was a rule that she needed to be clean and orderly when in the labs. That meant clean skin and brushed hair and no jungle ravaged shorts and tanktops.

She pulled on a pair of lounge pants and an old university t-shirt of her dad’s. She was towel drying her hair as she walked back into her room. Neteyam had discarded the book he had picked up and was instead wrapping something around in his hands. She noticed what he was holding and threw the towel over his head. “Stop looking at that!” she shrieked.

“Ah! Why?” he tore the towel off. Pixie was reaching to grab the chord back but he held it high above his head and out of her reach. “It’s just a songchord. Why are you being so defensive about it?”

“Cause it is mine! Give it back!” she tried jumping but it was a good four feet above her and even her best vertical leap couldn’t get that high.

“I didn’t even know you kept a songchord.”

“Well yeah. I didn’t think people would appreciate me making one for myself since I’m not…” she trailed off. “It’s stupid. Just put it away. It’s basically junk.”

“It’s not junk. It’s your chord.” Neteyam smoothed his hands over the beads. “You took a lot of great care making this chord.”

“Not everyone would see it like that. Cultural appropriation is more like it.” Pixie muttered.

“Appropriating your own culture? How does that work?”

“It works when it isn’t my culture.”

He sighed and gave the chord back to her. “Pixie, you said so yourself. You were born on Pandora. You spend more time hanging out with us then you do spend time here. This is how you were raised, it’s just as much your culture as it is ours.”

“But I’ll never be one of the People. You and I both know that much. I speak like you, I move like you, I follow the tenets of Eywa and respect the land and creatures, but at the end of the day I am human. I can’t even breathe the air. There’s no changing that.”

There was a time in her life that Pixie had held out hope that she could become Na’vi. She hoped that she could get her own avatar body and become permanently linked to it like Jake was able to do. To be fully embraced by the people she was raised with and loved like family. But that was a pipe dream. Even if they had the resources to do it they were not going to waste on her.

She bowed her head. A familiar grief settled along her skin like morning dew. “I will always be the outsider.”

“You’re not an outsider though.”

“Neteyam! Look at me!” Pixie snapped.

“I am looking at you, Pixie. And you know what else?” he crouched so he could be eye level with her. “I See you.”

“How?”

“With my eyes.”

She shoved him away. “Sorry. Sorry.” he grabbed her and pulled her back. “I’m sorry. But I mean it. You are my oldest friend. My best friend. I don’t care that some of the others in the village think you are alien. I don’t care about any of that. What I see when I look at you isn’t just what you look like. Blonde hair, black hair, white skin, blue skin, brown eyes, yellow eyes. Those are surface level. What I see when I look at you is the girl that used to wrestle me to the ground even though I was a foot taller than her. I see the girl that was fearless and calm when we got cornered by angtsik and suggested we go cliff diving to avoid it. I see the girl that is the single smartest person I have ever met.”

“I think Norm would be offended by that last statement but thank you.”

“You know what I mean.” he tucked some of her damp hair back behind her ears, “I see a girl who is kind and fun and smart and brave. So you’re not as tall as us and you can’t breathe the air. That has never stopped you from being one of the fiercest people I know. That is what I see when I look at you. I See you, Pixie.”

Her eyes grew wet with unshed tears. “I wish the others saw me as you do.”

“They do, they just won’t admit it.”

Pixie slumped and gave him a hug. He hugged her back tight, as if he was intent on squeezing all the air out of her.

There was a knock on Pixie’s door followed by her brother Ian’s voice. “Yo, Mils, your interspecies booty call is over. Mom says you have to come help make dinner.”

“I swear I am going to skin him alive.” Pixie grumbled. She pulled out of Neteyam’s arms. “Thanks for saying all that, Neteyam. It means a lot. More than you know.”

“Wait a second,” Neteyam blocked her from going out the door. He bounced on his feet a little and scrunched up his face. “Do you think you can sneak out of here tonight?”

“What? Sneak out?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Well, if you are going to be grounded for a week I thought it would be nice to go on one last little flight around the jungle. The last one I took you on kind of ended in a dour way. Love to make it up to you.”

“Golden boy is suggesting a lot of rule breaking.” Pixie grinned. “I suppose the worst my parents can do is ground me even longer so, yeah. I’ll meet you out where we met this morning.”

“I’ll see you then.” With that he took off and Pixie left to go help with dinner.

That night she laid awake in bed waiting for her parents to finally fall asleep. For several minutes she waited in the darkness, straining her ears for the slightest rustle. Once she was sure all had gone to bed she slipped out, donned her exopack, and snuck outside. There was a childish, rebellious rush of glee coursing through her as she rushed into the forest. The moss under her feet glowed where she stepped and various flora and fauna around her did as well. It did not matter how often she had seen it, she was always put into a state of amazement when she wandered around Pandora at night.

She got to the spot she had met Neteyam at earlier that day and he was already waiting there. “Hey.” she greeted. “I forgot to tie my hair up before I left, can you do it real quick? Just braid it back.”

“I got it.” he took the bit of leather from her hands and motioned for her to turn around. “You know I’m not as good at this as Kiri. You could probably do a better job doing it yourself.” he said as his hands started to card through her hair and twist the long dirty blonde locks around in a tight but messy braid.

“I don’t need it to look nice, I need it out of my face and I can’t braid it tight enough on my own.” her head was tugged back a little as he wrestled her hair into obedience. Neteyam finished tying it off and flipped it over her shoulder.

“Good enough?”

“Indeed.” She got to her feet. Like they had earlier that morning Neteyam boarded Mekul first and pulled Pixie up in front of him. They soared up through the tree and out into the air. Down below the world was dark but it sparkled and glowed with the magic Pandora offered.

Neteyam was in full show off mode as they flew. Doing flips and rolls in the air. Pixie was hanging on tight, smile wide and heart thundering loud in her chest as they flew across the star filled sky. The stars were so bright that night.

They decided to stop and settle on one of the floating mountains for a bit to give Mekul a break. They stretched out on a soft bed of leaves and moss as they stared up at the sky.

“Hey Pixie,” Neteyam rolled over to look at her, “What did some of the beads on your songchord represent?”

“Oh please don’t mention that.” she threw an arm over her face. “I thought we were done talking about it.”

“I’m curious though. Here,” he pulled his own songchord out and handed it to her. “I’ll tell you about mine. Like, this first bead here, is the first lullaby I can remember being sung to me. And this one here, is from when I killed my first talioang during a hunt.”

“Fine.” Pixie sighed. She hadn’t brought hers with her but she remembered what was on it. “I have a bead from the first time I remember going to the village on my own. There’s one for when Mo’at let me sit in on lessons about healing and Eywa with Kiri. I have a tassel on it for that day that we got cornered by that angtsik and I had that insane idea to jump off a cliffside waterfall to save us.” she chuckled a bit as she listed them off.

“I have one for the first time we went flying.” Neteyam pointed to one of the tassels on his songchord.

“You mean the day you got your ikran?”

“No. The day that dad let me take you on a flight on Mekul. Remember? I had only been flying for a week but we kept pestering him to let me take you.”

“And he finally did but he made me wear that harness thing that was tied to Mekul just in case I fell off.” Pixie shook her head at the ridiculous getup she had been forced into. “I looked as if I was being strapped in like a baby.”

“Then we spent hours up in the sky.”

“I got sunburnt we were out so long.”

Neteyam laughed as well. His expression softened. “Do you have any beads specific to me on your songchord that don’t involve us almost being trampled?”

“I have one but it’s stupid.”

“What is it?”

“No. I can’t tell you.”

“Why not? Was it our first flight too? It’s okay if we recorded the same memory.”

Pixie did indeed have that flight on her chord but that was not what she was thinking of. She was thinking of the night after Neteyam’s first hunt when he felled his first talioang. There was a big feast that night to celebrate the hunt and, more specifically, honor Neteyam for passing his rite to be recognized as coming of age. Normally such functions Pixie didn’t attend. She hadn’t felt right about being there but Neteyam had insisted. He wanted her there to celebrate with him.

She had been sticking to the sidelines. Watching from a distance and not getting in anyone’s way. Then, Neteyam had found her and started talking to her. Without warning he had pulled her by the hand out towards the bonfire to dance. She had been so nervous the entire time trying to match the steps of those around her. She had been acutely aware of the eyes watching them as they danced.

But it had been fun. So much fun. She remembered the warmth of the fire setting Neteyam’s yellow eyes alight with fire. She remembered her feet skipping along the ground, barely skimming the dirt as Neteyam all but carried her through the dance. She remembered how her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide.

“It was the night we--” Pixie stopped talking as she sensed Neteyam’s focus slide from her back to the sky. “What is it?” she looked to where he was staring and saw stars. No. Not stars. They were brighter than stars and they were getting bigger. “Neteyam?”

“We need to go. Now!” he grabbed her and all but threw her back on the ikran. He pressed a hand to his coms. “Mom! Dad! Do you read me?”

“We read you. What’s wrong?” Jake’s voice came over the coms.

“The sky. There are ships in the sky!”

“We know. Where are you?”

“Up in the mountains with Pixie. What do we do?”

“Get back to the village. Tell everyone to evacuate immediately. Those ships are going to be touching down by daybreak, we need to get everyone to safety now. Move!”

“Yes sir!” They were already flying as fast as they could back to the village. Pixie borrowed the coms to contact her parents back at the labs. They were pissed at her for sneaking out but more grateful that she was safe. They were packing up what they could move from the labs as they spoke.

The village was in a similar state of disarray as everyone began scrambling and gathering what they needed and counting heads. The ships were getting closer already. They may not have had till daybreak to get away.

Something heavy weighed down in Pixie’s stomach as she kept looking to the sky to see the ships descending. It didn’t matter what Neteyam said or what she thought. This is what everyone thought of when they saw Pixie. This is what she represented.

Invasion.

#atwow #avatar #avatar way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #fanfic #neteyam x human girl #neteyam x oc #way of water rewrite

[youngerfrankenstein]

So today I watched two movies where the deuteragonist goes kinda nuts and turns into a dragon thing, before the protagonist has to calm them down.

They were both a pretty fun time!

Promare is something I had been meaning to watch for quite a while but somehow never got around to. Glad I finally did!

Promare has quite possibly the Worst oppression allegory I have ever seen. A bunch of people are discriminated against because they burned half the world and killed billions (with a B!) of people. Also it’s not actually anything inherent to them it’s a bunch of alien parasites that will destroy the planet. However, since this is basically just an excuse for robots to fight other robots on fire… I can’t say I really care in the end. Promare is ENTIRELY style over substance, and I mean that in the best way.

The plot is breakneck and stupid. Most of the characters barely register as such. The dialogue is so dumb. And it FUCKING RULES! I’ve seen the film described as “Anime the Anime” and that does kind of sum it up. Everything feels like a ten year old boy smashing his action figures together and you can’t help but get swept up in the enthusiasm.

Helped by the absolutely (excuse the pun) FIRE soundtrack. The energy almost never lets up, and on-the-nose engrish lyrics just add to the experience. Even if you don’t watch the movie holy heck listen to the soundtrack.

The characters may be paper-thing but holy hell are they fun to watch. Our protagonist, Galo, himbo extraordinaire is as ridiculous as he is somehow charming. You can’t help but admire his drive to help people. And his foil, the ironically icy Lio, here to set fires and fight for his rights. Aina, a nice, spunky girl set up as a love interest for about five minutes before it turns out her character has more of a story based around her relationship with her sister. Which is a nice change! In fact the only romance in the story arguably involves CPR for plausible deniability. And our hero remembers to open the airway thank heck. Though whether intentional or just ship tease who knows? And who cares. You can guess who the villain is about ten seconds after he shows up and he is as much a blast to watch as the rest.

And really, this is a movie with a secret robot used to save the day called the Deus X Machina. A movie that ends with two shirtless guys setting the Earth on fire to stop the Earth from being set on fire. It doesn’t take itself too seriously and really neither should you. Let it sweep you away for almost two hours and you will feel much better afterwards.

-

I started reading Nimona around the time it was wrapping up as a webcomic. I have a copy of the graphic novel on my shelf. I was excited when I heard the movie had been greenlit (less so when I heard it was Blue Sky Studios), disappointed by the cancellation and, well, I’m happy it’s here now. While I’ve gotten grouchier over the years, it does make me smile to see these guys on my television, even if they’re not quite the same people either.

Because the movie is very different, and yet much of it feels similar as well. Certain scenes, like the board game, are almost directly from the comic, others are from the comic but not quite the same. The characters are different, Ballister is less jaded, Ambrosius less delusional and Nimona less, well, monstrous. She seems to more beat the snot out of people than commit mass murder. In the comic she’s every bit the monster people fear her to be, though a sympathetic one, and perhaps one who will heal someday. While the ending of the movie is far happier, it fits the new tone. And honestly? I need to stop making comparisons and judge the damn movie on its own merits. Of which it has many!

Our setup is fairly simple, Ballister BlackBoldheart is a new knight of the realm, who immediately gets framed for the murder of the queen and disarmed (heh) by his boyfriend Ambrosius Goldenloin, while on the lam he is approached by a shapeshifter called Nimona who is up for a little mayhem and hijinks. Together they try and clear his name.

My fist fear when I heard Blue Sky studios would be the ones releasing the movie was that a lot of the humour would be Quite Bad. And while there definitely is plenty of that, I think more gags hit than miss. Hell the movie got quite a few laughs out of my dad and he’s a fair bit less likely to chuckle than I am. It is quite a funny movie, which is good because it helps the harsher moments hit harder. Because there are also plenty of those, especially in the final act.

Speaking of, the film is somewhat surprisingly well paced. Scenes tend not to overstay their welcome and the movie flows well. What else flows well? The animation! (My segways not so much) Everything is very smooth, which is rather necessary for all the shapeshifting, and there’s quite an interesting scene made to look as if subway tiles are telling the story of Nimona’s origins (ish).

And the main trio really are quite fun to watch. Ballister, always the underdog, now a public enemy and trying to both clear his name and perhaps open his mind a bit. Ambrosius, golden boy, trying to do the right thing and not always doing a great job. And, of course, Nimona, who’s just here to break shit, though it is quickly clear there’s more underneath, also a pretty blatant trans allegory.

The relationships Ballister has with both the other two are sweet as heck, but also riddled with mistrust that they all have to work to overcome.

And while the movie does get a little preachy at times, it’s a kid’s movie. What do you expect? Rah rah fight the power, all that jazz. I may be too jaded for it but it certainly works.

—

Would recommend checking out both or either if they sound like something you’d enjoy!

#Promare #Nimona #I should polish this up more but ehhhhh #Quick thoughts I guess