#just imagine these kids looking like a million dollars
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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
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Dating King Ben Would Include…
Holy shit,
This is a lot.
Def NSFW
Warnings: sex, language, not proofed, I’m a slut
- r u actually kidding this man
- Idek where to start
- How about this
VK
- the moment he lays eyes on you
- Fuck
- When he smiles at you for the first time???
- Bye.
- Falling for the king-to-be was NOT part of the plan
- But he’s so goddamn cute
- You slip into the stands at his tourney game
- He makes a great play and you let out a cheer
- Surprising everyone around
- And he just grins at you
- There’s a party that night
- You show up in your most flattering dress
- And Ben cannot take his eyes off of you
- (The beast inside is awakening)
- He asks you to dance
- his big hands fit on your waist so perfectly
- Your hands loop around his neck and your fingers play with his hair absentmindedly
- You’re so nervous
- He pulls you closer to him and whispers into your ear
- “Relax.”
- Hello???
- He’s so in love with you UGHHHHAGGGA
- not following plot anymore screw it
- “You coming to the game tomorrow?”
- “Why should I?”
- “I can think of a pretty good reason.”
- SHAMELESSLY FLIRTS WITH YOU
- “If we win, I get to take you out on a date”
- “And if you lose?”
- “We won’t.”
- Ben fucking winks at you and just
- Up and leaves
- Someone take the confidence juice away from him!
- You go see another one of his games and after he wins, he runs up to you, sweaty and grinning, gorgeous as ever
- Before you say anything
- His head dips down to your ear, hands slipping around your waist
- “My car is waiting for you. I’ll be there soon”
- The mf had no fucking doubts that they’d win
- He gives you another million dollar smile before jogging away
- Leaving you flushed and a little turned on?????
- The date is absolutely wonderful.
- He changes ur perspective on everything
- Makes you his queen eventually
AK
- He’s such a gentleman omg omg
- PRINCESS TREATMENT OMFG
- Opening doors for you!!!
- Pulls out your chair for you!!!
- Ur a cheerleader
- He’s def the kinda bf to score and point at you like
- “Scored that for you, baby!”
- You wanna roll your eyes but can’t bc of his damn smile
- Don’t even get Ben started on your fucking uniform
- He’s down bad fr fr
- You in the colors of his kingdom??? HELLO?!
- He’s gone
- Such a fan of public PDA
- will kiss you ANYWHERE
- seriously
- Always has to be touching you
- The beast in him tbh ur his
SEX
- everything this guy does is
- Always turning you on fr
- At the worst times too
- He’ll just look at you and give you the smile he only does while balls deep inside of you while at dinner with his parents
- And he knows it too
- The way you blush and look away?
- He KNOWS
- Please he gets weak in the knees when you say his name/title
- “Benjamin”
- “King Ben”
- “King Benjamin”
- “Your Majesty”
- Bye
- I imagine that he’s so sweet at first but you can tell that he’s holding back (beast boy HELLO?!)
- You have to convince him to finally just let it out
- What does that entail?
- Let’s make a list!!
- Scratch marks on your thighs
- So so many hickeys (he doesn’t fucking care who sees, he’s the king)
- Finger print bruises on your waist and hips
- BITE MARKS
- shit
- This man has a heightened sense of smell
- So like… beware
- Low key high key loves the way you smell
- Will not stop sucking and biting on your neck bc of it
- BEN IS A DOM IM SORRY NOT SORRY
- it’s such a stress relief for him!
- Seriously as king he needs to release his stress somehow
- You luv when he’s rough with you
- A full on Edward Cullen breaking the bed moment and he’s scared to even touch you
- And ur like “Ben do it again”
- He’s all 😮 “wut”
- “Please?”
- And bam thinking with his dick again
- You love it when he fucks you in his office
- In between meetings
- When anyone can walk in
- “Don’t want everyone in the castle to hear your dirty sounds, now do we?”
- BEN IM SORRY
- HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO KEEP QUIET WHEN UR LITERALLY REARRANGING MY INSIDES ON YOUR DESK
- Riding him while he’s in his desk chair
- The staff is quite confused when he asks for a mirror to be hung as a decoration on the opposite side of his desk
- It’s so you two can watch obvi but they don’t know that
- OMG the two of you at formal events and he cannot keep his hands off of you
- The things he whispers in your ear my GOD
- looks like the two of you are just innocently dancing but if they really knew the dirty things he was saying to you
- “What would everyone think if they knew how turned on you are right now?”
- “You taste better than all the food here.”
- Like r u kidding me he’s the dirtiest guy
- MASSIVE DICK ENGERY
- Its unfair
- Him pulling you out of the ballroom to absolutely ravish you with his parents and subjects a wall away
- Him just fucking you while wearing his crown omg (cant stop thinking about this)
- He’s so needy all the fucking time
- Anyways back to office sex
- It’s his fav
- Literally you’ll be on his lap and he’s fucking up into you and he will get a phone call
- Motherfucker GRINS at you
- “don’t make a sound”
- And then ANSWERS IT.
- KEEPS FUCKING YOU THROUGH THE PHONE CALL
- NO MATTER HOW LONG IT IS
- Oh and def makes you keep eye contact with him the whole time with his hand on your throat
- Ben with a beard????
- Between your thighs??
- With the fucking fangs?????????
- DEAD
- DECEASED
- BYE
- GONE
- Is always down to eat u out
- Such a golden retriever bf about it
- Def fingers you in the car
- If ur driving??
- “Eyes on the road”
- 💀
- If he’s gone?
- You best BELIEVE he’s calling for phone sex
- “C’mon let me hear you. You sound so pretty when you’re desperate for me.”
- Soft mean Dom soft mean Dom
- Will hop in the shower with you just so he can wash your body
- Also makes you come with the shower head
- Loves boobies
- Loves ass
- He can’t decide which he likes more
- Loves making you watch what he’s doing
- If he’s going down on you?
- Eyes on him at all times
- Fingering you?
- You better be watching it
- That’s why the mirror comes in handy
- When you lock eyes through the mirror?
- His crown is lopsided and he’s just
- He’s just
- You know
- FUCKING KING BENJAMIN
- And he’s always smiling at you
- He knows what that smile does to you
- Uses it to his advantage
- He knows he’s pretty
- He loves waking up before you after a long night of straight up fucking
- He sees the damage done
- By him
- And it just gets him going!
- You wake up with his head between your thighs
- “Morning”
- It was in fact a good morning
- his morning voice adds to it
- You loooooove to tease him
- Low key flirting with another guy, if it’s fucking Chad you better get prepared
- Wearing an outfit you know he loves in a public place when he’s with his parents doing his king duties
- Putting your hand on his inner thigh during a meeting
- I hope you know what you’re getting into!!!
- He storms into his room that night where you happen to be lying on the bed, oh so innocently
- Wearing his jersey or a button up of his
- You don’t bother looking at him, already trying to hide the smirk on your face
- You can feel the glare as he shrugs off his suit jacket
- And removes his tie
- And loosens his collar
- And pushes his sleeves up
- (your favorite Ben look)
- He knows this ofc
- Sets his hands flat on the bed and just stares at you
- Finally you look up, a giggle escaping immediately
- “You think it’s funny, do you?”
- His hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you towards him
- His knee settles between your legs as he leans over you
- “Answer your King when he speaks to you”
- “Yes, your majesty”
- His head drops back and something (THE FUCKING BEAST) ignites inside of him
- He laughs
- Not like his true laugh
- A dark, sinister laugh
- Coming from Ben?
- Noble, brave, and good Ben?
- When he’s about to fuck you into oblivion?
- Good. Fucking. Bye.
- What’s Bennyboo up for??
- So much
- He’s horny ALL THE TIME
- highest sex drive ever
- Esp with the fucking beast
- He can go for hours
- King (lol) of stamina
- “You can do it baby”
- “C’mon, one more for me”
- “Fuck you’re doing so well”
- “Good. So so good”
- He’s loud as FUCK
- not embarrassed about it all
- No fucks given
- Will walk out of his office he was just bending you over in to greet his father in the next room like MAN ISN’T PHASED AT ALL
- And you’re catching your breath like 😳😳😳
- On one hand, he’s so nice and genuine and so well mannered
- And then when it comes to you, he’s a cocky little shit who can’t keep it in his pants
#ben descendants#descendants#ben florian#ben florian x reader#ben Florian smut#ben descendants smut#descendants smut#king ben#king Ben x reader#descendants king Ben
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Fine I'll give you fluff 🙄....Carl and reader find this huge museum and decided to check it out for supplies to find out the museum has been untouched there's no signs of walker or human and since Carl and reader are still children they decided to fuck around and even give themselves a tour of the museum and it ends with sweet first kisses 😚
- ♣️
heyyyyy ♣️ of course and thank you. the Luke castellan req u sent me is already hurting and I've barely written any of it yet LMFAO ; also didn't know how to do the kissing bit so I'm sorry :( I've never been to a museum so ifk djsndmsm ; I should've scrapped this it's so bad wth
CARL GRIMES ; museum
summary ; you and carl go on a run and take a tour of a museum
warnings ; language, mentions of knives
genre ; fluff
word count ; 1k
masterlist
You and Carl approach the large building, gazing upon the well-founded structure. It was a curvature shape, large glass windows covering it, pulling in gallons of sunlight each day. You couldn't imagine the amount of sunbleach on the floor inside if it was that familiar thin carpeting like in arcades or inside al Chuck E Cheese's across the globe.
As you walk closer, killing any stray walkers with your knives, you notice there's a whole layer below the upper, circular part of the building. It's held up by pillars, protected by shade, and only covered in a few tall windows here and there. Below that, it sinks into the ground a bit with the help of some staircases on each side behind the sign and little wall to prevent casualties. It was more boxy, however, still covered in windows. The whole structure looked freakishly modern, like the world didn't end back in 2010 here, like the world just kept spinning up til now, apparently. It was a little freaky seeing it, but you brushed it off. Whatever this place was, they probably pulled in millions of dollars a month to look like this.
You approach the front, seeing Virginia Museum of History & Culture in bold lettering above the main doors.
Now, you and your long-time friend Carl never got to learn all that much about history or culture, seeing as the world ended in the middle of your fifth grade year. All through elementary school, it wasn't something anyone was teaching a bunch of little kids who'd forget within an hour over recess.
The two of you share a shrug and nod, deciding to go in to look for any food or resources. You keep your weapons ready and in hand, prepared to take down as many walkers as need be.
The first challenge was getting inside, however. The door was locked. Luckily, Carl was able to pick the lock with a spare safety pin he kept in his pocket for this exact reason, and he slowly pushed the door open with his foot. His boot leaves a print on the door from the dirt and dust on the ground, leaving the stainless steel door a little messy as you both enter.
You clear out each large room, finding no signs of life, or death for that matter. You closely examine all of the WW2 replica artifacts and read the little signs, teaching you about the nearly hundred-year-old war. It was pretty interesting to you, considering the only war education you'd gained was being part of one yourself with the whole Negan and the Saviors thing.
Carl notices you reading as he breaks open some protective glass, opening a stash of rifles that'd been found post-war on the battlegrounds in Virginia.
"Think they still work?" He asks you, holding one up in his hand.
You shrug, "How would I know?"
He nods and shrugs, agreeing with your statement. However, you'd take anything you could get your hands on at the moment, food, guns, ammo, anything.
You two unlock a long forgotten childlike curiosity, exploring the museum for all its knowledge. You learn a lot about cultures and wars walking around the building, about ancient Aztec civilizations and the Civil War.
You ended up finding a little bit of food and some guns and ammo. I mean, a museum would never be a go-to for apocalypse rations anyway.
The two of you sit down in front of the windows near the front of the building, giggling and gasping for air after playing tag for a solid twenty minutes. Your cheeks are flushed and you run a hand through your hair, trying to cool yourself down a bit.
"I didn't know you could run so fast" Carl chuckles, lightly nudging your shoulder.
You shrug with a light smile and reply with a sarcastic and snarky tone, "My urgency to get away from you is showing"
"Hey!"
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
You stick close to Carl, heading into a locked portion of the building, staff only. You wield your knives, cautiously turning the lights on.
Nothing, once again.
Another lunch room, weird enough. But it had plenty of non-perishables you could take. Including spaghetti-o's, which you hadn't had in years. The warm, metal taste could already be tasted on your tongue as you imagined the beautiful taste of the noodles and sauce again.
Carl turns to you, "Ready to go? It's nearly dark"
You nod, "Go on without me, I wanna go in that section we didn't really explore yet"
He shrugs, "I'll come with you"
"It's fine-"
"You wanna learn more, don't you?"
You shrug and nod.
"Nerd" He teasingly chuckles, "C'mon, let's make it quick"
You quickly run out to the section you didn't get to explore much, learning all about JFK's assassination. God, if the internet got to progress any further, you'd be all over Reddit sharing conspiracies and theories about this right now.
"Holy shit, dude took two bullets, what the fuck?"
"Damn"
You begin to rant as you read the little book on the podium, silencing Carl as he sits on the floor. His feet hurt, and his shoulders were beginning to ache, so he decided to sit down like this was kindergarten storytime.
You stand and speak, using your hands to communicate through body language as he attentively listens to you. He looks up at you with admiration, like he was genuinely focused on you and only you. You stop to breathe, your throat dry as you shut the book.
Carl fixes his hat, handing you some water.
"Ready to go home and eat these spaghetti-o's that I know you're dying to eat?"
"Yes please!"
#lowkeyrobin#twd x reader#twd preferences#twd teens#twd fanfiction#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes#chandler riggs#chandler riggs x reader#the walking dead x reader#the walking dead preferences#the walking dead oneshot#carl grimes oneshot#they/them reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader
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Decided to reread the Batman and Superman get possessed fic because I enjoy it so much. Listening to the Dr's. Fenton get chewed out by the Justice League is so sweet. I can only imagine what's happening down in the lab that resulted in such a commotion. Please tell me it's not another ghost (please tell me it IS a ghost who popped through the portal with perfect comedic timing just as the Fentons were explaining how very secure the portal is being kept.) Poor Flash is going to tear his hair out with how unsafe this whole house I'd. He will personally adopt these kids to get them away from this deathrap of a 'lab' put those papers away Bruce! He will fight you on this!
So you sent this in and I saw it when I was at work and couldn't reply. Then, when I got home, I totally forgot to reply. Story of my life, I need to remember not to open notifications while at work. (This is a life lesson I will absolutely forget within a day.)
ANYWAY, your question.
It's not another ghost in the basement, I'm afraid! It's just a lab that looks like this:
(Screenshots from Million Dollar Ghost.)
And yes, a custody fight is so about to go down!
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I need Danish Gremlin Lars headcanons so bad right now plsssss
Hi!!! first of all, I'm sorry it took a little while, hope you enjoy!! <3 and again, thanks for asking!
Loves it when you play with his hands! we all know this man has incredible hands, esp with all that tape around his fingers, lord have mercy.
Would absolutely love to teach you to play the drums
He WOULD tease you with his drumsticks, i fucking know it, this man is a kinky mf.
Like, he would slide one over the inside of your thigh and the other one over your neck and breasts.
THE TAPE AROUND HIS FINGERS STAYS ON!!! (need i say more)
He’d whisper sweet things to you in Danish, whenever he’s proud of you or when he tells you he loves you.
ALSO, during sex???? and he’d go all crazy cus it all just feels so, so good???
I feel like he’s quite dominant, maybe in his early years (‘81-‘84) he’d be a little bendable (not literally, but who knows?). But, in the 90’s he’d be FERAL.
Like I said earlier, I feel like he’s a kinky mf. Exhibitionism, he likes to get freaky in public. He loves getting praised, he wants to hear how good he is at something. Pleasing you, playing drums, cooking, mowing the fucking lawn. He doesn’t mind, please fulfill his ego.
Small dick, but the energy is BIG.
Has stamina for DAYZZZZ!!!
He would fuck you on his drumset, i can just imagine him eating you out and hitting the kickdrum while doing so. (IM SORRY I HAD TO)
I feel like early 80’s Lars is a real sweetheart, maybe still a little shy but definitely runs his mouth. 90’s Lars has no fucking filter, he’s cocky, arrogant, gets whatever he wants and takes whatever he wants.
Loves to just be around you, showing you he’s here. You’d watch him and the boys rehearse and he would squeeze your hand or your thigh, flashing you small smiles and giving you kisses here and there.
“You still with us, darling?” He squeezes your thigh, smiling with those adorable dimples of his.
"Hm?" You dozed off a little, but his fingers sliding to the inside of your thigh keep you very awake.
“Are you enjoying watching us, babe?” Lars grins.
“Oh, yeah.” You nod. “You’re doing great, baby.”
“You think so?” He smirks proudly, his fingers tracing circles over your soft skin. “You like watching me play?”
“Mhm.” You hum and smile down at his hand. Already knowing what you two will be doing later.
He would take you to Denmark, showing you his hometown and places he went to as a kid. His childhood home (which is now a fertility clinic I believe, lol) and his school, where he played tennis as a boy.
He loves art so he would take you on little museum trips and years later to these auctions where he would sell the pieces from his home for millions of dollars, (SKOM docu).
Loves bragging to people about you. “My girl is great, she’s the prettiest woman i know.” and "Well, my girl loves playing the drums with me." <3
You know those bandanas he wore in the 80’s? Yeah, tying your wrists up with them or putting it in your mouth to prevent you from moaning too loud <3.
He is a little fruity tho. (so threesome with Kirk maybe? yes/no?)
Load/Reload era, this man wore some heavy eyeliner. I can see him asking you for a little help.
He’s in the bathroom, trying to figure out what the fuck to do here.
“Babe, could you help me out here?” He holds up the pencil and gives you puppy dog eyes.
“With what, baby?” you walk into the bathroom and look at him, slight confusion written over your face. “Is that my eyeliner?”
“It’s for the new album!” He protests. “We got a new look, ya know?”
“What, cutting your hair wasn’t enough?” You tease him and sit on the sink counter.
You take the eyeliner from his hands and pull him closer by his shirt, you wrap your legs around his waist and make him look at you by holding his chin.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
He obliges and you softly apply the liner just above his lash line. He squints a little and breathes out through his nose.
“Don’t move, baby.” You scold him.
“Sorry, It feels a little weird.” a wide smile spreads on his face.
“Look up for me.”
He does what he tells you, looking at you before he looks up entirely. You apply some under his waterline, smudging the edges gently with your fingers.
“All done, babe.” You kiss his lips softly.
He smiles into the kiss and murmurs a “thank you” against your lips. He checks himself out in the mirror behind you and grins.
“Wow, I look sexy!”
“Larzy Poo” - James Hetfield, 2023
#thanks for the ask!#thank you anon#lars ulrich#lars ulrich x reader#lars ulrich headcanons#my headcanons#headcanons#lars ulrich x y/n#fanfic#fanfiction#metallica fanfiction#metallica smut#smut#metallica#james hetfield x reader#metallica oneshot#metallica x y/n#request#requests are open#kirk hammett#larzy poo#distorted59
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One Shot: Pre-Gaming
(Pic added after the original post because it totally fits the vibe of the story. 😌)
1191 words, 🔞 for that smut
Notes:
Can you tell I'm really, really concerned about how our man will survive awards season? ☺️ I'm not sure if he'll attend any of the shows (really hope he does), or if he has any rituals for situations like this, but this is where my imagination took me. 😈
This is pure fiction, and in this scenario, Cillian is in a relationship, but not married and no kids. I read Cillian as an intelligent, decent, sometimes awkward guy who is also capable of being spicy when needed or desired. 😌
It's M/F dynamic, and I often keep the lady leads generic in description so more people can imagine along. 😉
Thanks for reading! ❤️
Cillian had gone silent. His arms were crossed, and he was staring out the window. Maybe he saw the city cruise by, or maybe he was too lost in thought to notice; she couldn't tell. All she knew was that he was relaxed at the hotel, but as soon as the limo door shut, his mood had changed.
She'd had her hand on his thigh for the whole ride so far. That subtle reminder of her support wasn't enough for him, she realized, but she knew what would be.
“Cill?” She addressed him gently.
“Mmm?” He responded absentmindedly.
Definitely lost in thought. “You need to relax. I'm going to make you feel better before we get there. Would you like head, or a quickie? Neither is not an answer.”
“That obvious that I'm fucking nervous, eh?” He chuckled in spite of himself. “Of course, I would’ve rather stayed home, but…” He trailed off and watched her kneel before him and begin to unzip and lower his tuxedo pants.
“What?” She said in response to his quizzical expression. “I thought maybe this would help you decide.” She looked up at him and winked. At this moment, she was glad she'd chosen the little black lace number instead of the gown with the train. She'd be able to move more freely for him, and it would be harder to mess up the dress.
“Now, what’ll you have, Mr. Murphy?” She placed her hands on his thighs and caressed them softly.
He glanced at the closed partition between them and the driver, checked his watch, and a mischievous grin bloomed on his face. He leaned forward. “Looks like we have plenty of time. Hmmm… Film award nominees tend to get special treatment, isn't that right? Give me both, love. Your mouth first, then that irresistible cunt.”
“Spoken with the confidence of a winner, whether it's tonight or another night. It's coming, either way.”
“Just like me, in a matter of moments, thanks to you.” He tried and failed to stifle a laugh. “Christ, we sound like some dreadfully unimaginative 70s porn! Let's stop talking, before we turn each other off.”
“Excellent idea.”
Both of them laughed, partners in crime with the same sense of humor.
She gave him one last affectionate smile, then began to caress his thighs with long, soft strokes that made him shift on his seat. She traced the same path with her lips, on one thigh, then the other, nuzzling the expanses of skin.
He turned the volume up on the music, in anticipation of giving in to wherever she led him. She stretched herself higher and loomed over his lap, then tugged at his underwear. He shifted on the seat to help her efforts in removing her last barrier. He placed his hands on her head and squeezed softly, a gentle request for the warmth of her lips on his hardened, eager cock.
He groaned softly as her lips surrounded his girth and her hands connected with him, and he hissed, eyes shut tightly, when she teased the sensitive underside of his dick with her tongue.
His million-dollar face contorted–jaw clenched, brow furrowed, nostrils flared, full lips parted–as he savored her work. By then, she had taken more of him in, feasting on his length with her enthusiastic licking and sucking.
He began to grind his hips, arching into her mouth to feel her deeper and more intensely.
She loved seeing him like that, focused on the sensations, thoughts as far away as possible from cameras, paparazzi, and all the sequined and bow-tied cogs in the Hollywood machine–everyone they'd be unable to escape for hours once they left their mobile love nest. Giving him release was the least she could do for him. She was well aware of all the effort and sacrifice he put into his celebrated performance as Oppenheimer, and she thought he deserved to be in the right mood to enjoy his moment of recognition, win or lose.
She knew she was wet already, from the way her body throbbed in excitement. She had one more ace to play, one more thing to share that would push him past the point of no return. “I was going to surprise you later,” she murmured conspiratorially, “but this will give you something else to think about in your seat…”
He watched her through glazed, darkened eyes as she climbed into his lap, hiked her dress, and sank down on him, inch by inch.
“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “No fucking panties… Are you trying to kill me?”
“No, babe, I'm just trying to fill your head with good thoughts before we get there.” She rolled her body at a brisk pace and kissed him deeply.
He grasped her hips and overtook the pace of her thrusts, writhing against her in a controlled manner that made both of them wail. She rocked into him and edged closer to being completely undone.
One of his hands crept up to the small of her back, while the other meandered down her leg to find her clit, which he massaged the way she loved, ratcheting up her cries in the process.
Their rhythm quickened some more. A lock of his hair fell down, toward his eyes, and she brushed it back into place. She desperately wanted to clutch her hands in his hair, like she normally did, but quickly nixed the idea, remembering the effort that had gone into his sophisticated look. There'd be plenty of time later for reckless behavior, she thought–on the ride back to the hotel, or in the bed, regardless of whether they were celebrating or preparing to return to their usual pace of life.
“Oh, fuckkkk…” His breathing was shallow, and his face flushed as his eyes rolled back. “I'm gonna…”
“Me, too, baby,” she said, equally breathless. The tightness that had built up at her core gave way to waves of bliss, and moments later, Cillian tensed as his own climax tore through his body.
He held her in a tight hug and kissed the top of her head while they caught their breath.
After a while, she moaned contentedly and looked up at him. “Feeling better, Cill?”
“You have no idea, lass. Thank you.”
“Anytime, my dear, beautiful boyfriend.”
He kissed her softly, then looked at his watch. “We should be there soon, better get ourselves back together as best as we can.”
They scrambled to straighten up and return to their initial positions in the car.
“You know,” started Cillian, as they rounded the corner to the venue, “At some point tonight, when I can't stand it anymore, I'd love to steal away with you to a bathroom or somewhere else that we can be alone…”
“I like the way you think! But what if we get caught?” She gathered her purse and prepared to exit the limo.
“I think ecstatic award winner caught fucking his girlfriend will be much better for my brand,” he said with air quotes, “than those pics of me pissing on the side of the pub, don't you think?” He winked and kissed her passionately.
Before she could respond, he opened the car door and they emerged. They were quickly besieged by camera flashes, and the huge smiles on both their faces were real.
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Do you think Ted was a good coach?
Oof. Controversy!
This is a loaded question, because if you look at his end results, you can't deny that he's a "good coach" in the sense that he was able to completely turn the team around and take them to the top of the league. He was definitely doing something right!!
However I feel like I can't really call him a "good coach" with my whole chest because he doesn't know ANYTHING about the sport he's coaching, nor does he really seem to make any effort to learn (like, he doesn't understand the offside rule until 3 years after starting the job. Why?) He's certainly good as part of a coaching team, because he's excellent at building relationships and connecting with his players, but he would be nowhere without Beard, Nate, and Roy, because at the end of the day a team just can't be successful if their coaches don't know anything about the strategy/technique of the game.
Also, Ted's expertise is in coaching kids, not adult professionals, and that really shows in how he handles Richmond sometimes. His whole "winning isn't what's important, it's all about teamwork and having fun and being the best version of yourself :)" is a fantastic mindset for, say, the coach of a little league team, but (as Beard points out) not as wonderful for coaching professionals whose whole job is winning. They're not there to have fun and learn the value of teamwork, they're there to win. I get that the return to football as a fun childhood hobby is a theme on the show, and there's nothing wrong with that, but I feel like Ted doesn't always fully understand the gravity of the sport for people who are truly invested, and he doesn't always do a great job of balancing "having fun and growing as individuals" with like. Doing what these men are paid millions of dollars to do.
As a preschool teacher, I think the way Ted handles conflict is also very reminiscent of how adults handle conflict between young children, which is another thing that would make him a fantastic coach for a kids' team but works against him in a professional setting. In s2, for example, rather than just going to Roy as a superior speaking to an employee and telling him to get over himself and coach Jamie because he's a grownup and that's his job, he tries to get Roy and Jamie to talk it out and come to a resolution like they're two kindergarteners fighting over a toy. He was doing Social Emotional Learning on them, and even though it ultimately benefitted them as individuals, it was not the best or quickest way to deal with a workplace conflict like that between two adults. Can you imagine going to your boss like "hey, the person who's supposed to be training me won't talk to me at all or answer any of my questions and I'm kind of lost" and they were like "lol and what do you expect me to do about that? That's on you, I'm not gonna tell him what to do" insanity
TL;DR I think Ted is fantastic with people and that's a huge asset to him in coaching, but I don't think he knows anywhere near enough about soccer to be a bona fide "good coach" of a professional team. I also think the way he handles his players and their conflicts would be an asset to him if he were a kids' coach or a teacher, but sometimes is frustrating and infantilizing when applied to professionals
#ask#ted lasso#actually when he said 'you want me to tell roy kent what to do!?' I was irritated as hell I was like YES 😭
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can u make a enemies to lovers with neteyam or jake? x fem!reader? xx!!
(Gifs not mine)
Pairing: Jake Sully/fem!reader
Summary: Y/n doesn't like being outranked by Corporal Jake Sully, and Jake doesn't like Corporal Y/n's attitude. This rivalry eventually stretches past their human existence.
Warnings: Military attitude, one-way thinking, implied brutal death, enemies to tolerated allies to lovers, alien prejudice/racism? (that one's a little tough to word I guess), swearing, etc.
Word Count: 2k+
A/N: Thank you for your patience, and sorry it took so long!
Also, Jake and Neytiri don't end up getting together and having kids in this one. I couldn't bear to do my Mama dirty like that.
~~~~~~~~~
Corporal Y/n L/n was many things. Tough, capable, determined, and loyal. The RDA was lucky to have her... at least that's what she tells people. No task was impossible and no mission was too dangerous. Y/n followed her orders down to a tee, so you could imagine the anger she felt when her loyalty was shoved aside in exchange for wheelchair-bound Corporal Jake Sully.
There's no such thing as an ex-marine, and yet Y/n has never met the next closest thing until she met Jake. Honorably discharged after the loss of his legs in Venezuela, Jake was only in Pandora for the sake of the RDA not having to waste millions of dollars on an avatar whose rider, Jake's twin, is dead. Technically, Jake shouldn't have been mingling with the war dogs at Hell's Gate and should've stuck to the scientists. But Selfridge and Quaritch had other plans and had asked Jake to go undercover as their eyes and ears among the Na'vi.
Y/n didn't think Jake deserved all the credit he had been given after he managed to insert himself with the Omatikaya, and she voiced her opinion to him, "What'd you have to do? Bat your cat eyes at them?"
Jake knew when he was being mocked, clenching his jaw and narrowing his eyes back at her, "They accepted me after I told them I was a warrior from a neighboring clan."
"Seriously? What clan?"
He had the gall to look bashful in front of her, the tips of his ears turning pink while muttering under his breath, "The Jarhead Clan?"
She laughed in disbelief and likely disgust, "Are you kidding me? 'They fell for that? If it's that easy, maybe Quaritch doesn't need you after all. I bet we could just walk in there claiming we're all from the Jarhead Clan."
"They're smarter than they look, and I don't see you volunteering yourself to communicate with them." The marine sassed back, his attitude getting the better of him.
"They're not worth my time," Y/n shrugged, nonchalantly, "They're clearly not smart enough to handle me if they ate up your punk ass lies."
"You don't exactly have anything better to do. Other than complaining, I guess."
She snaps her attention back to the man in the wheelchair, eyes glaring into his soul. It wasn't every day someone had the guts to match Y/n's cold exterior, and she didn't appreciate being badmouthed by the rookie who just got a lucky shot of working the same rank as her, "Watch yourself, Sully."
He smiled, the bastard, turning his chair in the direction he wanted to go, wheeling away, "I gotta head out. Unlike some folk, I actually have a mission to accomplish."
~~~
The scientists were moving out. Apparently, Dr. Augustine was spooked at the idea of Parker breathing down the neck of her operation so she's bringing her avatar team up to Site 26 in the mountains, Sully included.
Y/n was strutting down the hall and happened to catch Jake after he left the control room to let Quaritch know what was going on. She noticed a suspicious-looking smile on the marine's face and something didn't sit right with her at the sight of it. Without much thought, she held her foot out and it abruptly stops the wheelchair in its tracks. Jake peered up at her, his smile quickly fading when he realized who it was, his jaw tightening.
"You're smiling." She stated her observation out loud, gracing him with a frown to match, "It's not a good look, much less a normal look for you. Just remember whose side you're on, Sully."
How could she have possibly known what he might be thinking? She couldn't have known he was smiling at the thought of getting away, wanting to forget all about this place in exchange for seeing this world through the eyes of Neytiri.
No. There's no way she could know that. As suspicious as Y/n was, she was blind to everything Jake has experienced out there. He leans close, staring up at her with those hard, daring eyes, "I do. My side."
~~~
It bothered Y/n to learn Jake had betrayed them. Did she expect it? Obviously. So it bothered her all the more that she expected it. She could have prevented this by stopping Jake from leaving or reporting him to Quaritch, so why did she let him go?
She decides that she can fix this mistake by helping blow up Hometree and further help in the battle waiting for them in the Hallelujah Mountains.
Did she feel regret watching the magnificent tree crash down, likely killing hundreds of Na'vi in the process? Only for a moment, her mindset now on her orders to return back to Hell's Gate. Best foot forward, she manned the gun as they flew to the Tree of Souls, only to be ambushed by the Na'vi, astride direhorses, and ikran. Y/n didn't feel regret gunning down as many as she could after watching the bastards kill her friends and acquaintances, people she worked with for years and formed bonds with living on a moon so far away from home.
She was thrown from her gunship, however, before she could fully enact her revenge. As she fell to her death, she watched the battle going on above her. She watched her gunship being tossed around by the devil itself, the Great Leonopteryx, larger than any ikran she had ever seen. The beast and its rider, Toruk Makto himself, smashed Y/n's gunship against the side of one of the floating mountains, and she's forced to watch it explode in debris and flame. Her heart drops, however, when the blades of the ship came spiraling through the air and toward her falling form.
That was the last thing she remembered before everything went black.
~~~
FIFTEEN YEARS LATER...
Instead of black, she's blinded by an overly bright hospital light. Only, Y/n wasn't in a hospital and she felt like she was lying on top of a stainless steel dissection table. Disorientated and sore, Y/n focused on the voice of the doctors (were they doctors?) surrounding her field of vision. They instruct her to take it easy and flex her fingers. When she lifts her hand to do so, she's suddenly wide awake and self-aware.
Her hand was blue.
~~~
Following her resurrection came the other Recoms of Project Phoenix. Z-Dog and Wainfleet were next, then Ja, Brown, Fike, Lopez, Prager, Walker, Warren, Mansk, and Zhang. Most of them she knew back at Hell's Gate, or at the very least was acquainted with them. Finally, Quaritch came to and Y/n couldn't lie how entertaining it was to watch the colonel wake up and immediately kick in his fight or flight mode. It didn't help that Lyle thought it would be a great idea to greet Quaritch with his new ugly avatar mug. Later on, Wainfleet admitted that he already forgot about his new body and didn't think how the colonel would react, and in response, Y/n laughed and called him an idiot.
~~~
Their temporary resurrection and reunion were cut short when they arrived back on Pandora. Quaritch gets them to work immediately after receiving his orders from Ardmore and the Recoms are sent out into the wild to test out and see if the moon would react to their presence. So far, they hadn't triggered any immune response. No animal attacked them and the plant life kept still. The new and improved avatars track down the old shack where Quaritch breathed his last breaths, locating his remains and extracting the old footage from the AMP suit.
What they didn't expect to find there was a human boy, running around, acting like one of the Na'vi, apart from his breathing mask and exo-pack. He was about sixteen and clearly someone who had been left behind in the initial evacuation when the humans were driven off Pandora. When they captured him, he introduced himself as Spider Socorro, none other than Paz and Quaritch's son. But Spider wasn't very adamant at the idea of the colonel standing over him being his sperm donor.
"You're not my father! My Dad is Toruk Makto! He's on his way to save me! He knows I'm here, and he's going to kill every single one of you!"
That bit of information only enraged Quaritch even further, and Y/n couldn't exactly blame him. First, Jake betrayed his own kind, killed many humans, forced them to go home with tails tucked between their legs, and now he's raised Quaritch's son up and brainwashed him to be an animal.
The Recoms take Spider's threat to heart and secure him, keeping him tied up in the center of their circle as they wait for Ardmore to come and pick them up. It was dark and it had started to rain. They kept their backs to each other and kept their eyes peeled on the jungle line. And yet, they never saw him coming.
It was all a blur. Due to the darkness and the rain, Y/n was one second too late to realize that she had been separated from the group as the Recoms were getting picked off, one by one. There was the familiar sound of a grenade launcher being triggered before Y/n had the time to dive down and cover herself to the best of her ability. The explosion goes off somewhere nearby and her ears begin to ring, debris of dirt sprinkling down on top of her. The shouts from her team slowly die away, following the sound of Ardmore's ship picking them up. She tries catching her breath, her mind not yet realizing what had happened just as hands began to grab at her shoulders, her instincts driving her to fight or flight mode.
She kicks them away and scrambles to put a distance between herself and the stranger, lifting her AR in her arms and pointing in their direction. In front of her stood a tall Na'vi man, only he had the traits of an avatar-- a very familiar avatar.
The snarl she let out wasn't as human as she was used to. It was more feral and she tried not to let it surprise her, "Shit. Sully."
Jake Sully's eyebrows furrow at the voice, eyes frantically scanning her form. Definitely an avatar but dressed in camo and currently pointing an AR at his face. The voice sounded strangely familiar, but it wasn't until he noticed the name patch on her bulletproof vest did his eyes widen in recognition. He peered back up at her eyes, tilting his head, "L/n?"
She cursed again, rage pooling through her eyes as she gnashed her sharp teeth at him, "Traitor!"
Y/n goes to pull the trigger, but something from behind had clubbed her in the crook of her leg, forcing the limb to give in and collapse against her will. She shouts and the trigger slips, the gunfire missing Jake by an inch as he barrels forward when the moment of opportunity strikes. He wrestles the rifle out of Y/n's hands and pushes her to the ground, using the orange slap-cuffs she possessed and using them against her, restraining her hands behind her back. Y/n snarls and hisses like a wild animal caught in a trap, her ears and tail lashing violently as she's forced face down into the mud, the whole front side of her wet and cold with the rainfall still pouring like nobody's business. With her head tilted off to the side, she realized her attacker was none other than Spider with a large branch still heavy in his hands. With his captive secure, Jake stood up and stepped toward the human boy, kneeling down to meet his height and checking him over for injuries or cracks in his mask.
"You alright, kiddo?"
"Yeah," Spider breathes, smiling faintly when Jake gently knocks his knuckles against the glass of his mask affectionately.
"Good. Let's get you home. Your sister's probably worried sick."
That was news to Y/n. From what she understood, Quaritch and Paz only had Spider, unless the colonel was getting around. Looking back, Paz could have cozied up to others, but from the few encounters Y/n had with her, she didn't seem like the type. Socorro was high maintenance.
Still left on the cold, wet ground, Y/n continued to struggle until Sully remembered that she was there, and the bastard had the gall to smile down at her while patting Spider's shoulder proudly, "Well, son... not bad for your first catch."
"Go to Hell!" She screeched back. This had gotta be the worst night of her life.
~~~~~~~~~
Part 2? Lemme know!
Have your own request? Click here for the rules! If you wanna see more of my works, click here for the masterlist. Thank you!
#jake sully x you#jake sully x reader#jake sully imagine#jake sully#atwow imagine#atwow#avatar 2#avatar 2009#avatar imagine#james cameron avatar#avatar#avatar the way of water#james cameron#avatar 2 imagine#avatar twow#avatar 2022#sam worthington
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Because it suits my sense of humor and personal taste, an AU where Hikage, Banjo, and En are all blood related to All for One. Yes, all of them at once. They could be his kids or Yoichi's kids or even distant cousins. Just as long as All for One has to deal with an excess of family.
I had fun trying to come up with the worst family dynamic for this.
Hikage is Yoichi's biological child. AFO wanted to start over so he used Yoichi's DNA to try and make a new little brother to deal with his grief after his brother's death, but he tweaked it a bit so Yoichi wouldn't be as weak as he had been, but wasn't so strong AFO couldn't control him. The end result was Super Anxiety, er, Danger Sense.
Then as Hikage grows up, AFO decides he wants to be a father again. This lead to Banjo being born as AFOs biological child. He does have a mom since AFO didn't want to spend years in a lab again, but he doesn't know who she is or care. Hikage is the older brother by four years.
Their teenage years were a nightmare with Hikage refusing to give any affection to his father and Banjo constantly getting into trouble. He shaved his head after an argument with his dad and liked the look so much he decided to keep it. AFO almost died from a heart attack when he heard. Then again when he found out that Daigoro went behind his back and became a hero. And a third time when he heard that his little Hikage had a child... Despite the fact that he was 22 when that happened.
Thus, En joins the family. He may take after her in looks, but he has Hikage's personality. AFO adores his grandson and spoils him. As for En's mom, she got a job offer in Australia and took it, but they still face chat from time to time.
Now for the million-dollar question: What about OFA and criminal activity? His family doesn't know. As far as Banjo and Hikage know, their dad is just an ordinary business man and Garaki is a very unlikeable babysitter. And he's just a very young-looking grandpa to En. AFO plans to let them in on a few things once En turns 18 so they can talk it over like rational adults (he says, being the only irrational one)
En decides he wants to be a hero too. At 14 he looks for someone to secretly train him so he can get into one of the new hero schools that just started up. He doesn't tell his father since he doesn't want them to worry and he wants to try and do it without his uncle's help, and he knows his grandpa doesn't think he's capable. Then, he stumbles upon a much older Third who offers to train him if he accepts this quirk and the responsibility that comes with it. En thinks that taking down the villain AFO will be a great way to prove himself to his grandfather and says yes.
I believe the rest is best left to the imagination.
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Can I request a fluffy Tangerine imagine where the female reader works for Maria, but rather than being an assassin, she’s the driver of the getaway car for missions, and Tangerine has a thing for her and she picks him and Lemon up one day and Eye of the Tiger by Survivor plays on the radio and she sings along and Tangerine is shook because her voice is amazing and he didn’t know she could sing? I thought I should pick a song pretty much everyone knows, and Eye of the Tiger was the first one that popped into my head.
Hey Anon,
Thanks for waiting so long. I hope this is alright! To feel something I may have been dipping into Christmas music and it may have bled into this fic. My apologies.
Warnings: FLUFF
“Fifty bucks.” He said into the phone hating himself for resorting to this.
“Fifty bucks off a two million dollar job?” Maria spoke into the phone slowly and Tan pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Fine 50K.” He sighed and quickly looked over his shoulder to see if Lemon was in earshot.
“50K?” The surprise in her voice only made him hate how stupid he was being even more.
“Give her half as a tip.” He quickly added.
“Deal. You know this is just a ride home right?” He kept his mouth shut trying to avoid being rude. Yes, he just spent 50K to sit in the car next to a girl he liked. Yes, he knew how stupid that was.
“Talk to you later Maria.” He said quickly before hanging up the phone.
_______
The job went off without a hitch and they were done slightly ahead of schedule. The item was secure, the dude was dead, and there was no threat of security as they stood near the front door waiting for you. He lit a cigarette and took a deep breath. He was more nervous for this than he was the job itself.
“You got a drug problem?” Lemon asked in an unusually serious tone, his eyes were focused on his phone missing the way Tan’s face twisted up.
“Not at all.” He answered easily.
“You are either are back on the stuff, or you just paid 50K off your payout for….” His voice trailed off and his hand waved indicating the Tan should finish the sentence.
A black hellcat pulled up infront of the door and Tand picked up the brief case motioning for them to go.
“Dibs on shot gun.” He blurted quickly like they used to when they were kids. Lemon gave him a look that reminded him that nothing was ever lost on him. He knew that after this ride home there would be a full investigation on you, string lines connecting all the information to which Thomas the Train you would be.
He gave Lemon a stern “dont fuck this up for me” type of look and Lemon gave him a brotherly smile. They got into the car and your appearance hit him full force.
You were in your PJ’s and your hair was pulled up into a messy blob on the top of your head. A pink fluffy bathrobe encasing your slender frame.
“Howdy.”You said in a chipper voice pulling away form the curb the second the door shut. The cab of the car smelled like mint and settled into the space whishing this was a normal thing. Like they were all coming back from a party or had run to the shops for late night snacks.
“Did we catch you at a bad time?” Lemon asked eyeing her robe.
“Well, I was made an offer I couldn't refuse.” She smiled.
“It’s-” Tan started but Lemon cut him off.
“Is that so?” He said turning his gaze towards Tan.
Tan swore your cheeks got pinker at the accusation. He wanted more than anything to turn around and slap Lemon.
“Well, it’s nothing for peace of mind. Best driver there is. 95% of missions fail when leaving the site.” Tan had made that up.
“It’s an honor.” You smirked and his heart sped up. There was a moment of heavy silence and you turned the radio up. This was enough to buy him some time. He just paid 50K for a chance to ask her for a… what? A phone number? A date? Fuck. He ran a hand through his hair and looked out of the tinted glass. The city was a blur and his body gave into the familiar lurches of your fast driving. You were a part of this world, in enough danger without him so it’s not like he would be ruining your life. You always laughed at his jokes, you touched his arm that one time-
“It’s the eye of the tiger.” You sang along with the song on the radio pulling him away from his misery.
“Damn! Okay, girl.” Lemon said and he wished he could respond in some other way than to just look at you.
“Come on everyone knows this song.” You said batting a hand in the air, as you hurled the car around a corner.
“Not everyone can sing it like that.” Tan said grabbing the “oh shit handle” in the door as his body slid to the side.
“Shut up.”
“No seriously, find something harder then,” Lemon said from the backseat.
“What?” You were blushing now and focusing on the road more than you normally did. Tan reached out to the dial on the car and waited a moment for you to bat his hand away. But your hands stayed on the wheel. He spun the dial and it landed on a Christmas station.
“YES” Lemon boomed from the backseat. You let out a laugh as the sounds of Christmas by Mariah Carey filled the small car.
“Isn’t it a bit early?” You groaned and Tan felt it ripple through his body.
“Nonsense. The best part about Halloween is when it ends.” lemon said causing you to laugh.
“You boys better sing with me then.” Your eyes glanced at him and he would have done anything in that moment. You started to sing like an angel and he and Lemon mumbled along.
Sadly the ride was coming to an end as they approached the drop-off location. Lemon gave you a pat on the shoulder.
“Thanks, love. Get home safe.” He slid out of the car before you could respond. Your eyes moved to Tan’s and he knew this was his chance.
“Want to get a drink?” Your eyes went wide and a thick flush covered your cheeks.
“Maybe not like this.” You said gesturing to your PJs and he felt stupid for asking. “Unless you mind my place? The owner is pretty lax about the dress code.”
“Is that so?” He said cocking an eyebrow. You both held each other's gaze for a moment till Lemon tapped on the glass. Without breaking eye contact he lowered the window and handed the case to Lemon.
“Oi, go easy on him.” Lemon winked at you before heading up the stairs.
“My place it is then.” You smiled and reached across to lace your fingers in his.
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Ooh, you have a Wish rewrite/alternate story in mind? You open to sharing anything about it?
Ohh boy jcudbfjd yes! These were my ideas before the movie came out. I don't know if anyone will read it it's long but oh well writing them down makes me think more clear
Magnifico:
So the concept of him experiencing with colonizers is still there expect it happened BEFORE he was born. İn an old kingdom. Only the aristocrats could survive it and they came to where Rosas is in right now for safe place. Expect in their time the survivers were much silent? Like there was nothing to celebrate for nothing to smile about, they just ran away from a genocide caused by horrible magic.
And because all the survivors were aristocrats they didn't had any peasents to boss around, their status meant nothing right now since the left alone people are now equal. They didn't even had a proper leader, which is where Magnifico comes along. He pulls them together, becomes king, brings laws, builds houses, Medical care camps, schools, draws the lines of the kingdom, literally makes it a whole country born by it's ashes.
As much I don't like to bring up the film we can see that kid Magnifico is floating on the picture. He had magic back them but we never got explained how? So I came up with the idea that Magnifico's parents were one of the top duke and duchesses who made a wish upon a star for the best kid they could ever have. Which lead to the child getting the best ever genes it could possibly grab from generations behind. The healthiest, handsomest, most magical coming from the ancestor's stardust's.
He was the best thing that ever happened to the people of survivers, he could bring them stuff, stuff they wished to have.
Magnifico was like the Messiah. They adored him, he was their everything. He was spoiled by the whole aristocrats of course, he's a wonder kid.
He and his parents also look different in my headcanon, this is how I imagined them to look like before what the film gave us with 3 😐😐😐 heads. İgnore the art quality I just wanted to point out how I just imagine them to look like, it's a doodle I scribbled on phone
A tip to tell the difference between my version and Disney's is,Magnifico is a natural white hair in mine along with his parents. Also is actually tan like in the concept arts. Amaya also has actual brown skin, like in the concept arts.
And before you ask no no other aristocrat could wish upon a star, only they could, this is why Magnifico is so important to them. He does what the stars couldn't automatically.
His parents died of an old age, at the same time, expect they tried their best with every single kind of potion and chemicals to keep them alive because they were scared of if Magnifico is their wish, would he be gone if they be gone? They stayed alive for about 120 years which is almost the limit of the human body, gladly enough he didn't died when they did. They wished for their kid to be the best for everyone, not just for them.
They looked like zombies when they died, it really hurted everyone to see them that way.
And for the million dollar headcanon
Trumpets
Drum drum drum
✨Amaya is a Wish✨
Magnifico wished upon a star the day his parents died just like Asha on the tree at the end of the cliff. His parents died and got buried at 6AM he made the wish at the end of the day, 11PM. Magnifico had to deal with so many things for the whole day now thay they were offically gone, they didn't even let him rest even if they wanted :(( he was exhausted at the end of the day when he was finally alone, and even though he knew that this was a forgotten miracle that only happened one time in the history, he wished upon a star,
Saying that he wanted someone here for him, to bring the best of him, whatever he could imagine and could not, ..and it came true!!!
He was in ultimate shock to see Amaya. Now unlike in other cartoons when they have a "perfect" partner it usually goes so smoothly like ohh they're obsessed with them and so clingly. Okay no that didn't happened, yes Amaya is the perfect woman for Magnifico and Magnifico is the perfect match for Amaya but she is still a human?? not just some customized girlfriend. Like why would she still stay there if he treated her like garbage?
Amaya was a human who could be the perfect wished person for Magnifico if he played his cards right and actually worked on their realationship, so it's not instant love. I hate the instantly in love without a thought tropes. They have a slow burn.
Asha:
She did got accepted as the King's apprentice.
And for the Queen's. They make her do works like Cindirella and they mutually annoy eachother time to time. The queen is slightly mean too for the funsies. They 3 got a we may be sometimes mean to eachother but Asha would ask for realationship advice to us type of realationship.
Charo is still there, their cat. Which Asha had enough of. (They make her clean after him a lot, spoiled cat 😼)
The Star boy is a boy, like in the concepts and exists. Expect I thought he would be more of a 15 year old than looking like a 20 year old to get more of his childish personality.
He's not useless like in the movie where the only helpful thing he did was opening the elevator's door and nothing else other than being Asha's new pet.
He can do magic, so does Asha. This is what gets on Magnficio's nerves. He doesn't knows about the Star boy's existence but later he finds out. He'll need to accept them both
🔥Valentione nevers speaks🔥
He was so cute as a goat who could only talk in goat language, you don't need his "low voice"
#asks#thank you for the ask!!#Disney wish#Disney wish asha#queen amaya#king magnifico#disney wish valentino
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Breakeven.
Prt 1.
Bang Chan X Plus Size Reader. Fluff mild angst. Slow burn?
The news broke that V from BTS's stalker was apprehended. The fact that someone got so close sent shock waves through the major companies to up security. Guards for even the groups that didn't have a major following, it felt incredibly necessary. Keeping the artists behind closed doors like hamsters in wheels and a very colorful and elaborate cage. The studio Stray Kids though did the majority of their work for their latest mixtape was across the street from a cafe. The road was mainly foot traffic and standing there on the concrete pavement was a woman with a guitar.
A foreigner. As divisive as that word is in South Korea, that's what she was...singing in English songs from a while back. Breakeven by The Script, Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. This heartache verbalized in the cry of the street. She bowed quietly with the smallest smile if people tipped her, that's at least what Chan noticed from his tower. Yes, the great tower of the unmarked building in the middle of the city. No one knew he was there, nor what the building was. Everyone below him just too busy with their own day to notice. He was grateful for that, but he found himself wanting to be amongst the people. Be there, go grocery shopping, go to a cafe. Exist in the cosmos of the cosmopolitin. So, looking out of the window of the studio he watched this woman. Living vicariously through her. He could hear her if he tried really hard with the window open, but most of the time it was when he snuck into the building he could hear.
Felix was setting down his things in a chair before seeing his friend deep in thought, not moving a muscle, just looking out the window. Walking beside him the blonde followed his eyeline to the girl.
"You know you can go say hi-"
Chan jumped not noticing the new presence slamming his hand over his heart. "Ah!-oh, hi...I dunno what you're talking about..." Brushing the comment off. Felix just raised a brow.
"You stand here and what...stare at her? Man, that's creepy- you wear a mask and a hat and go over. Say Hello"
Chan just shrugged. That was the thing with Bang Chan. With his life experience, the thing he never wanted was to be hurt like he was in the past. To suffer again the things he did getting here. There of course are other things, but when you are in this life it's far easier to make up stories about the driver, the barista, or grocery delivery person? Then to actually...know them. For then they could leave and you would be left alone. Parasocial relationships go both ways remember? So Chan for the first time in a while has had the time to look at the same girl and imagine. Imagine her life, why was she in Korea? Why did she always sing sad songs? Maybe she was a student and this is how she made extra money, or was stranded here and needed to find funds for a plane back home. Or just she liked singing.
So many questions and thoughts and contemplations on the idea of a person, a person he didn't know. While he and Felix went actually into the studio to work he couldn't get her off his mind.
~~
Y/n though was very busy at work. It was hard to get people to notice you when you're in a larger body. At least notice you for the right reasons, notice the voice, the talent (as if). Southeast Asia had the beauty standard of a pin and people paid millions of dollars to fit it. The clothes, the almost infantilization of women? 'Cutesy' shit that made her skin crawl, she could dress like an idol, speak the language fluently, get her hair done at those fancy salons that give you tea; wouldn't be enough. So Y/n decided not to participate. She would sing, play guitar, and let that be the reason she was content. Be understood and heard through music. A couple months out of the year she visited a cousin who lived in Busan for work. Taking a week or so to visit Seoul it was her mission to live. Experience everything she could. That included what she normally did back home, just...here. Where Y/n would sing in front of a Starbucks or a dunkin, or dutch bros really whatever mall adjacent location would allow her to get a set in. Finding a cafe who agreed to let her perform on their property she set up. She just knew this wasn't a hot spot for tourism so felt comfortable in her ignorance if someone made comments she wouldn't super be able to understand them.
So she sang. Song after song not noticing at all the peering eyes from the man a floor above her.
Where Chris was watching. Dreaming of what she sounded like when she laughed, if she had a boyfriend or if he really should say hi to her...fate would have to decide as the rest of 3racha filed into the studio.
And so.....fate did decide.
~too be continued
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