#so her dad (Stick) lunged at him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lacroixwh0r3 · 9 months

Text

Blow My Load

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: For the last two year, you and Joel have been secretly hooking up behind your fathers back. One night when your dad goes out on a date, you and Joel spend the night together and Joel gets carried away.

Warnings: SMUT!! DUB CON, petnames (pretty tame ones), doggystyle, oral sex (f recieving), PiV, creampie, crying, pregnancy mention, abortion mentioned at the end, overstimulation, Joel is a little bit of an asshole in this (I am so sorry), age gap (Joel is 40 and reader is around 25), (aged up) Sarah mentioned, no outbreak

Song inspo (Feel free to listen if you want): Blow my load by Tyler, The Creator

A/N: Enjoy! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333

"Oh, baby," Joel moans as he breaks the kiss between you two. You look down at his lips, which are now bright red and slightly plumped. His tongue quickly licks off the mix of both of your spits from his bottom lip. His hands were still holding your head in place as he looked at you. "I wanna cum in that tight little pussy so bad, darlin."

Normally, the two of you would have to be quiet, but because your dad had decided last minute to go on a date, it was just you and Joel in the house. Or you might even go over to Joel's house, which was five minutes away, if Sarah wasn't home, but tonight the young girl was at the house with three of her friends having a sleepover doing, lord knows, what. Joel was adamant about staying over to watch the four girls, but you quickly reminded him that they're 18 years old and could easily take care of themselves. You were also going to be home alone, and you wanted him all to yourself.

As soon as your dad pulled out of the driveway, you and Joel ran to your bedroom and stripped out of your clothing.

You couldn't help but let out a whimper. "Joel, you know you can't do that." You tell him as you bring your hands up to grip his wrist. You weren't on birth control, and Joel wasn't a big fan of condoms. When the two of you did have sex together, Joel would usually pull out at the very last second, which would lead to you giving him a lecture as you both came down from the intense orgasm you both had.

Sure, it was hot when Joel did it, but you would rather not have to tell your dad that you were pregnant with his best friend's baby, and you didn't want Joel to tell Sarah that he had gotten the girl she looked up to the most pregnant.

"I know, darlin', I know, but imagine how fuckin' good it must feel." Joel whispered to you as he groans out. He brings his head close to yours again. You could feel his lips ghosting over yours.

"I'm fucking you until you can't think straight, begging me to dump my warm load deep into your pussy." Joel says before he sticks his tongue out again, only this time his tongue strokes against my top lip. You felt a strong pull in your stomach as your pussy clenched around nothing, causing you to push your hips into Joel's. "Maybe even put a baby in there." He says it lightly. It was almost as if he was saying it to himself, but somehow you still heard it but didn't comment on it.

You couldn't help but think about earlier, when Joel had lifted your dress up and ate you out on your family's couch in the living room while your dad ran to the store to restock on beer and some food for dinner. The way he sat down on the floor as he wrapped his large hands around your ankles to keep your legs from closing or falling off the couch Or the way he slurped, licked, and sucked on your clit to the point you almost wanted to scream at the top of your lungs.

You parted your lips to allow Joel's tongue to invade your mouth. Joel cocks his head to the side a bit and sucks on your tongue before letting it go and French kissing you. You can feel it as the drool slides down your chin, getting onto his beard. You feel Joel's hands release your face and move down your neck, stopping at your breast. He fondles them and thumbs your nipples. They were painfully hard now.

You wanted nothing more than for Joel to fuck you senselessly until you couldn't think of anything but him. Joel always turned you on when he talked to you like this, but you were ovulating right now, and his words weren't helping.

You pull away from the kiss. "Fuck me, Joel," You mutter against his lips. "I want you to fuck me hard, daddy."

"Yeah, you want me to fuck you nice and hard? Get on the bed so Daddy can fuck you," He says sternly. "I want you face down, ass up, darlin'." You immediately get to the edge of the bed, just as Joel told you to, with your feet hanging off.

You can feel Joel close behind you in between your legs as he reaches over your naked body and grabs the pillow near your head. "Get on your hands for me real quick," He tells you. Again, you do what he says, and he stuffs the pillow underneath your stomach. "Good girl, now lay back down on your chest." He tells you once more. You lay back down and realized that your hips were now elevated, allowing Joel to easily access your pussy.

"Oh, look at you, so fuckin' sexy with your ass in the air, just ready for me to fuck you," He teases you. "You want me to fuck that pretty pussy, doll?" Joel asked. You felt your pussy clenching around nothing. Begging for your hole to be fucked

"Mmmhm." You whimper at Joel as you nuzzle your face into the soft sheets beneath you. However, your response did not satisfy him because he spanked your ass with his large hand. Your head pops off the bed, causing you to look back at him over your shoulder.

"Say it." Joel demanded it from you. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you."

"I've wanted you since you got here, baby. I've been so fucking wet for that big cock." You whimpered as you wiggled your ass in the air, causing him to strike your ass again.

"Oh, I know you want my cock, honey. You want me to fuck my cum into you? Hmm?" He spanked you multiple times. You let out soft whines as you shook my head.

"Hmm? What's that, baby? You want me to cum in you?" He not-so-jokingly asked:

"I mean it, Joel. You can't cum inside of me or I'm gonna kill you, old man." You give him a pointed look over your shoulder, causing him to raise his hand in defense with his eyebrows raised. You meant it jokingly, but also not jokingly.

"I promise I won't, baby." He tells you.

"Mmhm, now I want you to fuck me, Joel." You demand him. His left hand grips your waist as the other wraps around his cock as he strokes it, getting ready to slide it into you. You feel him rub his cock against your clit as he gathers the arousal that seeps out of your hole. You moan out his name as he hisses.

Joel then points the head of his cock at your pussy and slowly slides inside. Letting out a deep groan as he does so. "Oh f-fuck, baby," He shudders. Your toes had curled up in pleasure as you dropped your head onto the sheets. "Pussy so fucking tight and warm... I might just have to cum in this pussy and make you a momma, huh?" He questions you as he slowly begins to push in and out of you. Joel felt the flutter after he said that.

"Oh, you liked that, baby?" Joel teases you. His slow strokes began to form a hard, fast pounding. "Tell me."

"I am going to fu-Oh fuck me-I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Joel!" You moan out to him as he continues his furious strokes. His balls slapped against your clit as he pushed your waist into the pillow beneath you. "Y-you have to fucking pull out," You plead with Joel. You knew that he wasn't listening as he continued to pound his cock in and out of you.

"You promised me!" You squeal out. Joel only grunted in reply and spanked your ass with full force as his left hand gripped your hips.

Somehow, Joel's thrust had only gotten faster. You could hear your headboard hitting against your wall and the sound of my ass slapping against Joel's hips. It was all too much. Your knees began to burn from the friction, your hips began to grow sore as he tightened his grip on them, and with each hit to your ass, there was a sharp sting that lingered. That's when you knew that both you and Joel were close to orgasming.

"Oh, J-Joel, baby, please!" Suddenly, it hit you. You were cumming so hard that you didn't know what to do with yourself. The combined feeling of Joel's heavy balls slapping against your clit and his cock rubbing the spot deep within you was overpowering, causing tears to form.

You grabbed the pillow that sat near your head and brought it close to your face. You bite down on the pillow as your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out loud moans into it.

"Oh my fucking god, baby..." Joel strains out his sexy, deep voice. He spanks you again as you cum around his cock and rub your ass cheek to soothe the pain. "Come on, sweet girl, tell me who's making you feel good." His strokes had begun to slow down now.

You release the pillow from between your teeth. You were so far gone from your ongoing orgasm that you couldn't even form words. Goosebumps had formed around your whole body as you shaked and quivered.

You feel him bring his hand up and smack your ass hard again, causing your body to jerk in response. "Tell me, girl! Who's makin' you cum this hard?" Joel grits his teeth as he slowly thrusts into you.

"It's you, Daddy!" You moan out to him as you reach your arm around you to grab onto his fingers on your waist. Joel moans and slowly picks up the pace of his thrust. You could feel his balls tighten against your clit, letting you know that he was nearly cumming. You look over your shoulder at him.

"That's fuckin' right, daddy is fucking you." He fucks himself into you. "O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna fuckin' cum soon, my sweet girl." Joel continues to hold onto your hand while his other hand lazily spanks your ass some more. You watch as his head falls back and his eyes close. You feel yourself close to another orgasm as well, but you can't help but worry that Joel isn't going to pull out on time.

"J-Joel," You moan to him as you grip the sheets on the bed. "You have to pull out; I'm ovulating, and you're gonna get me pregnant if you don't." You tried to tell him so that he could pull out. However, this only seemed to turn him on more. His cock strained in you all while he continued to stroke against the spot inside of you. You released his hand, slipped it between the pillow, and onto your clit. You rubbed your clit fast as he fucked you.

Joel looked like he had been transported to heaven. He looked down at you with both hands on your hips, gripping them hard. It hurt, but you didn't care.

"Oh, baby, I love you so fuckin' much," he whimpered as he looked into your eyes. "I'm so sorry," He says, looking down at his cock going in and out of your pussy. The sight of your juices covering his cock made his body go stiff. That's when you knew he wasn't going to pull out.

"I can't stop; I need to fuckin' cum in this tight pussy right now."

"Joel! No, pull out now." You told him as you tried to move your body away from his, but his grip was too tight around you. "You promised me, Joel!" You moaned loudly.

You weren't sure how many times you had orgasmed today, but you knew that you were cumming again. Joel moans as he feels you tighten around him. His cock begins to spurt his warm cum into your womb. You were so overstimulated that your eyes leaked tears and your ears rang loudly as your cunt welcomed Joel's cum and fluttered around his cock. Over the ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel whimpering out soft appologies as he continued to cum.

With his cock still inside you as you leaked out cum from your pussy, he laid his warm body on top of your back. His chest was damp with sweat from pounding into you. You could feel his warm breath by your ear as he took a minute to gather himself together. He still felt your walls fluttering around him. "It's okay, babydoll. I got you," He whispered gently as he stroked your bare side. You couldn't speak or think; all you could do was shiver underneath his body, even though you were far from cold.

Moments later, Joel pushes up from the bed and slowly pulls his cock from you with a slight hiss and groan. Joel bends down to get a look at your cum-filled pussy with his hands resting on your ass. "Oh doll, look at that pretty pussy," He whispers as he strokes his thumb against your sore ass. "I'll be back, okay, baby?" You let out a soft hum, letting him know he heard you.

When he went to the bathroom to clean you off and get something to clean you off, he didn't hear you burst into tears. When he came back, you were now sitting in the middle of the bed, crying with your head in your hands.

He rushes into the room, places the water bottle and towel on the bed, and embraces you. You couldn't help but cry harder as you cried into his neck. "Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." He apologized as he kissed and rubbed your head. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I don't even know what I was thinking."

You continued to cry for a few more moments before speaking up. "Joel, what if you did get me pregnant? What are we going to tell my dad and Sarah?" You look up at him with worry. He could tell you were stressed over this and couldn't help but feel his heart pull in his chest. Joel honestly didn't know what came over him during sex.

"Doll," He grabs your hand from your lap and gives it a quick kiss. "If you do get pregnant and you decide that you want to get rid of it, I will be there along the way, but if you want to keep it, then I will be sure to take care of you and the baby no matter what." Joel says it truthfully.

You stroked his hand with your thumb. "Joel, I'm not getting rid of it, but we're gonna be so fucked when my dad finds out his best friend of four years has been boning his daughter for the last two years and got her pregnant..." You say this to him as you look down at his hand in yours. "He'll fucking probably end up kicking me out and then kicking your ass."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head 'bout that darlin'; you're always welcomed at my house." With his other hand, he holds your head and kisses the crown of your head. "As for him kicking my ass, that ain't happening, sweetheart," He says sternly, as if he is sure. You let out a snort as you laughed.

"Oh really?" You back away from him to get a look at the cocky look on his face. He just looks down at your face with admiration.

"I'm certain, darlin'," He tells you, causing you to let out a loud giggle. That beautiful giggle overwhelmed Joel with love. He knew he loved you before, and he always made sure that you knew he loved you, but he knew right there that there would be another compared to you. You were it for him.

After your giggles had died down, you noticed that he was looking at you with a sparkling look in his eyes. "What?" You asked him softly as you played with his fingers.

"You know I love you, right?" He asked you. You felt yourself beginning to get shy. The both of you always told each other how much you loved each other, but something about this was different.

"Of course I know, Joel. Do you know I love you more, though?" You lean over and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. You then pull back to take a look at his face. The way his hard eyes softened when he looked at you made you weak in the knees. "So fuckin' handsome!" Joel's cheeks turned a soft pink color.

"And you're the most beautiful thing on earth," He whispers to you. "You're mine forever; don't ever forget it, darlin'." You wish this moment could last forever.

You released his hands from yours and brought them to your stomach. "I can't believe we might be having a baby, Joel," You whispered as you stroked your stomach. You could see you and Joel sharing a child together and even getting married whenever the time is right. He puts his hand over yours as well and rubs his thumb against your hand.

"You want me to cum in you again so we know we're successful, baby?" He suggested it with a smug tone. The soft look on your face immediately dropped and was replaced with a blank one instead.

"You're such a dirty old man," You tell him. "But yes, I do." You give him a quick peck on the lips before laying back down on the bed.

================================================

A/N: I kinda hate this, but its been on my mind and I wanted to write.

#smut #the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #neighbor!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dads best friend #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel x you

5K notes · View notes

diejager · 4 months

Note

OMG your kast post about Step-Dad Konig and Horangi was INSANE and i was wondering if you could do one with the reader getting Pregnant because of this and like Konig and Horangi decide that it's time for her to be taken into a new life with them far from everything and just breed her over and over till she's broken by Stockholm syndrome

(Yes i have issues no worries ^^)

Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, STEPCEST, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, age gap, implied kidnapping, tell me if I missed any.

The time they spent fucking you, ploughing you open with heir cocks in every hole and stuffing you with so many loads of cum that you leaked for days. They made sure to plug you up after tampering with your method of birth control, taking away any safety measures you had put up against them and to protect yourself from their cruelty and control. You, however, hadn’t expected them to be so determined to sabotage your birth control and have you tied to your bed, fucked until all you could think about was the girth of their cocks and cry out their names, back arching and toes curling.

It started slow, like any regular day with either of them when your mom wasn’t home. In the morning, König had you, splayed over his desk, tits pushed against the cold surface with one thigh over the edge while he bent you in two, ramming into you with so much force that the whole table shook. He growled and groaned, hissing out promises that he intended to uphold on his part, staining the walls of your womb with his dirty and thick cum, leaking around the heaviness of his girth and sticking to his mahogany desk. It goes on like that for a few more rounds, usually three or four after a break, his refractory period wasn’t what it used to be in his earlier days —in the prime of his life.

Horangi would come by around noon, he’d find you seated on the couch, dozing away after König was done with you, slipping between your legs and spread you open with his tongue. He’s eat you out for hours if he had the time, tongue dipping into your hole and swirling around your twitching nub, drunk on your mewls and wails. He groaned into you when your nails dug into his scalp, pulling at his black locks, thighs closing around his head and walls clenching his fingers. After pushing you over the edge a few times, he drilled into you, pounding you into the couch, smearing tears and drool onto the softness, ass propped up to take his long cock into your sweet, slick and swollen cunt, filling you with cum. He chuckled and sneered at you for wasting his precious load when it oozed out of your overfilled cunt, dripping down your thighs and dropping heavily on the black couch. It would’ve stained if they weren’t careful about keeping their activities a secret from your mother.

In the afternoon, a few hours before your mom’s scheduled to come home, you’re pulled away from your work by your stepdad who called it a day, usually around 3pm. He trapped you in the kitchen, ravaging you on the counter, legs wrapped around his waist and his rough fingers wrapped around your neck, he rammed into you with such force that it punched the air out of your lung, leaving you gasping and incoherently moaning for him. He passed you to Horangi once he’s done, resting against the counter he just fucked you on to recover from his high. Horangi has you ride him, thighs burning from the strain and heat of grinding yourself against him and hips cramping from having to worked yourself up and down his hard cock, the leaky head of his shaft kissing your cervix while he devoured you, lips latched onto yours and drowning your cries with nipping teeth and an invading tongue.

It all lead to the day you found out you were with child, the tests in your hands a glaring evidence to their success and your mother’s reluctant acceptance —she was worried, scared and stuck in the blind to your situation and how it came to this. After the second month, there was a slight swell in your stomach, a soft bump with your growing child, Horangi pulled you to his car and drove to a clinic to have your child tested to see whether he or König was the father. Whatever the answer was, they had you move in next door, taking up the vacant side of Horangi’s bed. You protested about it, telling them how he had a guest room just across the hall, only to be shocked into silence when they showed you Horangi’s so-called guest room.

It was neither a guest room, nor an office, it was a nursery. The walls were painted in a neutral tone, a calming and comforting beige against white furniture, the soft, grey carpet and the few blue accents in the room. There were empty drawers and a box full of children’s toys shoved into a wall and it was left there until a baby grabbed at them, awaiting the chubby hands of their owner. It was already stocked full with the necessities of a baby, diapers, soft blankets, a security system of the whole room, a comfortable recliner and shelves full of small necessities to intertwine and care for a child.

Everything had been prepared in advance —premeditated. They’d planned it all from the start, their immediate obsession and need to touch you during the first week of him moving in then the intimate and feral interactions put upon you despite your reluctance. If you hadn’t been so dazed, mind blank of any thought, you would have heard them discuss your future. They wanted a little wife to breed and care for, the object of their obsession kept for their eyes alone in the kitchen and the bedroom. It scared you, your only solace was to hold the growing bump, wrapping your arms around yourself for protection from them and the house. You needed answers.

Your blood ran cold when you turned to look at your stepdad and his friend, their gleeful eyes, gleaming with excitement at the prospect of building a family —one to tie you down to them.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @velvetsoulweaver @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

1K notes · View notes

missmeinyourbones · 7 months

Note

we NEED "i'm just too soft for all of it." IWHT MEGUMI PLS IM BEGGING

I'M JUST TOO SOFT FOR ALL OF IT (m. fushiguro)

a/n: me making up medical shit LMFAO, repressed and emotionally constipated megumi, deadbeat dad t*ji, slight mentions and undertones of toxic masculinity

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Since he was four years old and still growing into his long-sleeved sweaters, Megumi has learned to heal his own wounds or almost die trying.

A routine that he now knows like the back of his hand, he'd returned from his latest mission with weeping cuts and exhaustion clear beneath his eyes, making a point to stop at the medical closet before returning to his dorm. With Shoko's workday over, he makes a mental note to visit her first thing in the morning when he wakes.

He can make it through the night, he always does. Because Megumi is a thinker. He plans until he can't and covers all bases for when they're stolen. He gets by.

What he didn't take into account was potentially running into you, of all people. Dormitory halls barren and almost eerie, he nearly curses himself for brushing shoulders as you turn the corner on the way back to your own room.

Your timing has always been wrong, or maybe it's right and Megumi can't differentiate between the two.

And now he's here, on the creaky wooden floor of the medicinal closet, with you kneeling beside him and prodding at his injuries with tender wrists.

Never one to be good with idle hands, Megumi fidgets and tries to brush at the dried blood on his shoulder. The action has both of you hissing—him in a jolt of pain and you in reaction to his hurt.

"Don't touch it," your voice falters to be stern, still coming out so gently. Megumi thinks about the irony of that—of how you can't even be sharp if you tried. You're too gentle, too soft to even sound hard momentarily.

Humiliated at the mere idea of doing nothing, at needing help, he shakily exhales and returns his attention to the floor.

When the damp cotton pad in your hand touches a bit too deep in one of his cuts, Megumi does his best to save face but can't help the grunt of breath that gets sucked into his lungs.

Immediately, he feels you retract from his skin and coo your apologies. Carefully returning your attention to the burning wound, you do your best to soothe him.

"Sorry, it's deeper than it looks. Almost over."

Megumi's response is quick and curt, like a cut of its own, "It's fine."

You nod hesitantly before grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and another clean cotton round. The cleaning of his wounds continues in silence, though your thoughts are louder than anything.

His injuries vary in size. Some deeper, fresher, than others. Some looking like one-hit victims and others a repeated attack. You do your best to take note of where he's sensitive, where he's hurting the most.

When you reach a certain scratch on his bicep, you're able to catch a glimpse of his face. Sweat beading on his forehead and damp hair sticking to his skin, Megumi bites the collar of his uniform to suppress any kind of noise (weakness) from you.

When he slips up and lets out a guttural muffled groan, you think you might audibly whimper yourself.

"You can yell if you want to," you try to help him in any way you can, "or squeeze my hand or—"

"I'm fine," Megumi attempts to bark again, but this time is different. It's not cold or sharp like it was last time. You can hear how it shakes against the echos of the closet, how it sounds like the burn of tears building in a sore throat.

And between the pain everywhere he still has feeling and the intimacy of you carefully caressing him, Megumi finds himself tearing up.

"Hey," he feels you whisper, attempting to caress his jaw and prompt him to look at you, "hey, you okay?"

He can't find it in himself to answer nor lift his head, so he sniffles like a kicked child and crinkles his nose in disgust at his own pathetic actions.

Megumi is tough, one of the toughest people you know. You've seen him more beat up than this and barely break a sweat. Your head feels light at the realization that something's wrong. He shouldn't be in this much pain from the familiar burning of antiseptic he's felt a dozen times over. Maybe it's from a cursed weapon, or a technique where—

A stifled sob cuts you off.

Like a glass cracking beneath pressure, you feel something inside you break. No longer caring about cleaning his cuts or avoiding sensitive areas, you can't stop yourself from wrapping around his hunched frame.

Megumi's breath hitches as you hold him, feels your hair tickling his neck when you rub his back and whisper.

"I'm sorry, I know, but you're doing so good, okay? And I'm almost done—"

"Don't do that," he bites.

Assuming he's referring to prodding at a specific wound, you flinch and loosen your grip, "Do what?"

"Talk to me like that," he snarls with a crack, "in that—voice."

He feels your head remove its weight from his shoulder slowly, "Why?"

"Because I can't—" Megumi's voice almost breaks before he whines, gritting his teeth when he whimpers, "I can't handle it."

And just like that, Megumi is four years old again. He's scraping his knee on the concrete of his front lawn, and a blurry father-shaped figure with dark hair and legs far too tall tells him to be a man. Not being old enough to use the stove without supervision, but still knowing enough to save his cries for his pillow when Tsumiki is snoring and can't overthink his tears. He thinks of Gojo—of the first time he broke down in front of him and was met with whispers of good intent and love that registered in his brain as pity. Humiliation.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your fingertips on his wet cheeks, replacing the stinging of antiseptic with a fluttering and velvety touch.

Between sniffled strings of apologies and a few hiccups of words that don't quite make sense, you piece together that Megumi isn't crying because he's in pain. He's crying because he can, because you're helping him in a way he never asked for, let alone known.

"I've never...been allowed to, like, feel—"

"Hey," you're soft again, as if you ever weren't. "I know," fingers delicately brush his sticky eyelashes when you remind him, "but you are now."

"Are what?"

"Allowed," you whisper against his cheek, "to feel however you want when you're around me."

And Megumi doesn't know how you do it. How you remain a light in a world that's constantly doing all it can to kick you while you're down. Maybe you're just naive, so stupidly optimistic that it'll eventually be your own demise. Maybe.

But, Megumi can't find himself to care, because he knows that for as long as he's on this earth, he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to that light of yours.

Back to reality and rubbing at his stinging eyes, Megumi softly scoffs. "Y'know, sometimes you look at me with those stupid eyes and I don't know what happens, but I almost feel sick."

Your laughter tastes like water, "I know what you mean. But in a good way though, right?"

"Yeah," he nods, "in a good way."

When Megumi's back finally hits his mattress at an ungodly hour of the morning—something he's been dreaming of since he'd left it hours ago—he's sickeningly sore and his eyes burn with hypersensitivity. He lets himself close his eyes thinking of your hands, the ones that soaked his now scabbing wounds and wiped his watery eyes.

Megumi plans, sure, but he never could have prepared for you.

#L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi angst #megumi fushiguro angst #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fic #megumi fushiguro fic

2K notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 9 months

Text

the other side 🥡

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!horner!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: this was actually a request but it somehow got lost in my inbox so im so sorry to whoever requested this 😭 i hope you still see this though and i hope u like it! lmk what u guys think hehehe

about: fans adore your support for ferrari, given your dad is literally their rival's team principal.

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 1,201,294 others

ynhorner had the best view at monaco 🏎️

(ps. i hope my dad isn't using his instagram right now)

christianhorner I have no words....

ynhorner see u at home 😘

redgirlz LMAOOO THIS IS SO FUNNY

maxverstappen ??? Hello

ynhorner hi, max :)

daylightcharles if years ago you told me christian horner's own daughter would be openly supporting ferrari i would have laughed in your face

hamilecs not charles liking this 😭

sainzlines QUEEN DO U PLAN ON WATCHING SOMEDAY AT FERRARI'S GARAGE 🎤🎤

ynhorner i would if i'd still be my dad's daughter afterwards

ynhorner

liked by christianhorner, landonorris, pierregasly, and 1,028,248 others

ynhorner i may scream "forza ferrari sempre" during race weekends, but i am my dad's daughter still 🫡

therealgerihalliwell There we go, Dad was waiting for you to wear that 😊

ilpredestinato she is me and i am her (i too, would support ferrari to hell and back)

lovesgasly my ferrari queen ❤️

britcedesbros LOVE THE JACKET drop the link pls 🙏

ynhorner dad brought it home after seeing me check out another ferrari cap 😆

ynhorner recently added to her instagram story!

ynhorner

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, therealgerihalliwell, and 1,019,294 others

ynhorner clearing my gallery so enjoy this race week’s dump! life's good when i'm not torn between two teams; i can bust my lungs out to "super max" and forza ferrari my way every sunday ❤️

queensland mother pls tell me that man is just an uber driver

charlierari That's literally Charles 😭 loverslane reaching we can't even see the face???

paddockgirlie MAM IS THAT CHARLES PLS SPEAK INTO THE MIC

ynhorner i think my lawyer says i'd rather not say anything 😅

maxverstappen Glad to know "Super Max" is on your playlist

ynhorner are you kidding? i play that when i drive so i can get to where i'm going faster christianhorner Your karting races are not an excuse for you to overtake whenever you want, Y/N ynhorner it's okay i'm driving a ferrari anyway :D

ynhorner

liked by therealgerihalliwell, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,503,994 others

ynhorner okay maybe there's another reason why i love ferrari, but it's really not my fault they signed someone so breathtaking and loveable to be their driver 🤷‍♀️

merchamilton someone check up on christian quick

sainzzzzham Y/N IS UR DAD OKAY 😭

ynhorner oh don't worry about him, i'm sure he'll be fine!

charles_leclerc Saw the sign today, apparently that's why you sent me out to buy red poster board?

ynhorner yes, gotta stick to my ferrari girl agenda

paddocklovez MY NEW PARENTS ❤️

maxverstappen Finally, growing tired of hiding Charles when he visits the garage 😐

christianhorner So you were in on this? maxverstappen For legal reasons, I will be blocking you.

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

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant (lmk if anyone else wants to be part of my taglist!)

notes: tysm for reading <3

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 4 months

Note

jadey would you please mind giving us more of kbd!steve this season? xxxx

kbd dad!steve and mom!reader fight over christmas pyjamas, 1.4k

“I don't know what you want me to say.”

Steve frowns deeply at you. Another haircut, another day more handsome than before, he pulls off everything, but not…

“Say you like them,” he demands, hooking his thumbs in his pyjama top and pulling it outwards to properly show you the front.

Steve is wearing Christmas pyjamas. The Grinch from The Grinch Who Stole Christmas in all his scrooge glory grins at you evilly against a red background. The pants are white, patterned by red and green drawings of the Grinch holding a Christmas present. He looks much happier from your husband's thighs than the long sleeved shirt.

“Babe, they have cuffs. We're gonna be warm all day,” he says.

“They don't match,” you say, pointing to the Grinch on his leg, who holds a pink gift wrapped in yellow ribbon. “Maybe it's the pink and red throwing me off.”

His frown turns to a pout, the almond shape of his warm brown eyes at a downturn as he says, “You really don't like them.”

You crack like a weak walled chestnut over a flame. “I'm kidding! I'm just messing with you, baby, I love them. They're so Christmas-sy. Did you get some for me?”

His relief is palpable. “I got some for everyone.”

Steve got matching pyjamas for himself, you, the kids, and Robin. He shows you them from a bag on the kitchen table, where you ooh and aah reluctantly. You love him, love everything he does, but you're finally on your holidays vacation and you'd wanted to spend as much of it sitting down as possible. Not that sitting down is possible at home, but you digress.

Steve senses your reluctance with a grumble pressed into the back of your neck, his arms grabbing you from behind. “Alright, I get it! You hate me and your kids and you hate Christmas most of all, whatever. I should've married Tammy Thompson.”

You laugh and lean forward over his arms. “Tammy Thompson wouldn't have wanted a thing to do with you, H, on account of you being a cruel, know-it-all narcissist who forces his exhausted wife off of the couch at every opportunity he–”

“Alright, that's enough.”

Steve squeezes you until you're pleading with him to let you go, a riot of giggles forced from your lungs as he digs his hands into your sides, his fingers practically drilled into your ribs. You call for mercy and he ignores it, muttering about narcissism in your ear. He laughs as you laugh, can't keep up the act.

“Beg for me to stop,” he says.

“Stop!” you say, trying to pull his arms off of your stomach. “Steve, stop it!”

“Say you'll wear the pyjamas.”

“Steve! I'll wear them! Would you–”

“Get off of her!” Bethie shouts, barrelling into the room to push at her dad's legs.

It's so unlike Beth to shout that you both immediately stop fighting. For a split second, you think she's worried that Steve was actually hurting you, but then she laughs as she punches him in the thigh and sticks herself between your breathless bodies, two small arms extended to keep you apart.

When she's sure Steve is done, she wraps her arms around you, looking up into your face with a big smile. “Saved you, mom.”

“You saved me,” you agree, bending down to hug her, “thank you, sweetheart, thank you.” You drop tens of kisses into her hair and face, so many that Steve makes a show of huffing.

“Beth, she deserved it,” he says. “She doesn't wanna wear our matching jammies. Don't you wanna do that?”

She looks at him with those big sorry eyes only young children can master. “Yeah, dad, but…”

“But what?”

“But she's my mom.”

You pull one of the kitchen chairs out and sit down, patting your lap for her to climb up and sit with you. “But I'm her mom,” you sing-song, ever so slightly smug.

“And I'm, what? Cat food?”

“Don't listen to him, baby, he's just jealous.”

Steve turns away from you both, showfully miffed. Bethie giggles and turns into your chest. “He's mad,” she laughs.

“So mad.” You drop your nose into the side of her cheek.

“Are we still having a treat tonight?” she asks.

“Of course we are. It's Christmas! Mom's home, daddy's catching up on his sleep, we're all having cake and ice cream and chocolates until we can't eat anymore,” you promise.

“Wish you were home all the time.”

“Me too, baby,” you say, rubbing her cheek with the tip of your nose slowly. “I wish you could come to work with me. That would be so fun. But we have to make the most of our time away, yeah? Let's have lots and lots of fun.”

“I saved you,” she says, “so maybe I can have extra cake.”

“Beth. You can have as much as you want tonight, I promise.”

“I love Christmas,” she decides.

Steve rushes back into the kitchen with a child under each arm. Dove laughs, her eyes practically sparkling, not a care in the world though she's upside down, and Avery clings to Steve's waist, shouting, “Dad, put me down!” through nervous giggles.

“Tell mom what I told you,” he says.

“Dad, I'm slipping!”

“Avery, you're not slipping. I'm frankly insulted that you think I would drop you. Now tell your mother what we said.”

“Daddy's not a nar-pasit!” Dove says joyfully. “He's a sweetheart.”

“He's a huge narcissist,” you correct in a similar tone.

“He's dropping me!” Avery cries.

Steve shakes her until she screams. “I am not! For Christ's sake, I can curl you like two pound weight, you delinquent! Now.” He takes a deep, fake breath, pulling the two girls higher into his armpits. “Like we rehearsed.”

“I did my turn,” Dove says, reaching out for you, her smile hard to miss even if she is upside down..

“Dad didn't even want to marry that lady,” Avery says, her eyes squeezed closed. Steve chuckles and kisses her head, amused by her silly worry. “He's only ever wanted to be in love with you. And to drop me.”

Steve chokes he laughs so hard, leaning forward and depositing the eldest girl onto two steady feet. “Perfect as always, Ave. And you!” He twists into a shape, Dove's head getting closer and closer to the floor. She couldn't be happier, giggling like she's been tickled the whole while. “You did perfect too, honey.”

“I didn't even bring up that lady,” you say.

Steve and Dove return back to the right way round after some careful manoeuvring. “My bad. Babe. Y/N. I'm sorry, okay? I'm a loser and–” He nudges Dove aside gently to take your hands, your knees, ignoring Beth where she's in the way to kneel in front of you. “I just need you to want to wear these pyjamas as bad as I want you to. So pull it together.”

You put your lips to the shell of Beth's ear. “Should we forgive him?”

“Mmm…” Beth points at Avery. “He has to say sorry for almost dropping Avey.”

“Right.” You nod sagely.

Steve turns to Avery with wide eyes, “You're not actually upset, are you?” he asks, putting out his hand to her.

“My brains are like cranberry sauce,” she says.

He raises his eyebrows, delighted. “Yeah? The thick one from the can?”

Dove climbs under his arm. He pulls her in for a cuddle unthinkingly, but just as quickly she's ducking away from him to walk up to Avery, reaching for her face. Avery leans down obligingly.

Dove pokes her forehead.

“I'm not really jelly!” Avery says, giggling.

“Well, I'm sorry if I scared you almost dropping you,” Steve says, holding his hands together, brown eyes like melting sugar in his pleading. “Can you please forgive me, so mommy will forgive me, and we can put on our new jammies?”

Avery isn't stubborn. “Yeh, okay. I'll forgive you.”

He smiles, turning to you now for the final verdict.

“I already said I'd wear them, Steve,” you say with a grin.

“Oh. Good. Alright.” He climbs to his feet, split from cheek to cheek. “I'm gonna go get the baby. Aw, shit, and the camera. Practise your poses until I come back, angels!”

489 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 11 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Summary: Eddie's past in Chicago is revealed after he reaches his breaking point, but he's not the only one facing a crisis.

Warnings: mentions of drug use/addiction, neonatal medical trauma, panic attack, mentions of learning disability, brief allusion to Kurt Cobain's death, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 7.2k

Chapter 7/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie was no stranger to bad report cards, failing grades, and dissatisfied teachers. You don’t fail twelfth grade twice without dealing with all three of those. He’d learned to shrug it off and move along with his day, mostly unfazed.

Those same things directed towards his son was a different story.

Ms. Marion’s words rattle around in his brain, wrapping around his lungs and choking him from the inside out.

Constantly interrupting

His heartbeat pulses in his ears, drowning out the background noise of other parents chatting as they wait their turn to meet with the teachers.

Incapable of paying attention and following directions

A bead of sweat trickles down the back of his neck to his spine, then another, until he feels his t-shirt sticking to his skin. Despite the stifling heat building up in his body, his teeth chatter together noisily as a deep shiver rips through him.

Socially and academically behind his peers

He knew this day might come; he should’ve been prepared for it to happen. Has he only been fooling himself, pretending like everything was going to be fine?

At this rate, he won’t be ready for kindergarten

Eddie swears he’s walking to the parking lot, one foot in front of the other, keys clenched in his right hand until he feels their serrated edges digging into the calloused skin of his palm. Yet he finds himself at your classroom door jamb, leaning up against it with a soft thud.

You’re struggling to stay awake after the long day you’ve had. You roll your shoulders, wincing as you hear the small pop. You’ve just finished the last conference with Frankie’s mom, Carol, and she was a bitch and a half. She’d insisted that her son was gifted and demanded that you recommend he start kindergarten early.

A noise draws your attention to the door, and you’re suddenly wide awake when you see who’s there.

“What’re you doing–hey, what’s going on?” Your curiosity morphs into concern when you clock Eddie’s ragged breathing and tear-streaked face. He’s repeating something, but his voice is so low that the words resemble a hum, and you can’t catch them until you get closer to him.

“Harris–falling behind–all my fault.” Eddie speaks as though he’s in a trance. His brown eyes are saucers, and more tears fall with each blink of his eyelids. “Falling behind–all my fault.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but you do know that you need to get him inside the classroom before anyone else sees him breaking down. You reach for his wrist, and he instinctively flinches and pulls away before seemingly snapping back to reality and resting his hand in yours. One calloused palm trembles in your smooth one as you lead him to the table where you’d just been speaking with Carol Perkins, only letting go to steady himself into the chair.

“Falling behind–all my fault.”

You take both of his hands this time, and he doesn’t draw back when you do. “Eyes on me, okay? We’re gonna breathe together.” It’s the same technique that you’d used with Harris on Halloween. In for three, out for three. Eddie watches you a few times before joining in, breath hitching slightly before evening out. “There ya go…here, let me get you something to eat.” You offer him a small, kind smile that he doesn’t reciprocate before rummaging through the bottom drawer of your desk and pulling out a little bag of mini pretzels and a half-pint of water. “These good?”

He manages a nod, eyes locked onto you even as he twists open the snack and absentmindedly pops one in his mouth. He’s still in a daze, but no longer at risk of hyperventilating. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” you cautiously ask, not wanting to trigger another panic attack.

A solid ten seconds passes before he answers. When he finally does, the hoarseness in his voice startles you. “Could you, um, close the door?”

“Of course.” The wheels of your swivel chair skid against the tile floor, but Eddie’s too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice. When you return to your seat, he doesn’t even register your presence until you say, “whenever you’re ready.”

“I, um,” he clears his throat. “I just had the parent-teacher conference thing with Ms. Marion. And, apparently, Harris is destined for failure, just like his old man.”

He relays everything the old woman told him; the racing thoughts all spill out like bees fleeing their hive.

“She starts off by saying that he’s already behind the other kids, which may not seem like a big deal now, but, apparently, it means he’ll fall farther behind as he grows up.” He gnaws on his lower lip and continues. “And then she said that him interrupting and not paying attention is because he ‘lacks structure at home,’” he adds with a grimace.

“But y’know what really fuckin’ got me?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his jean-clad knees until his palms are tinged red. “She said to me, ‘Some kids aren’t cut out for school, and if Harris is struggling with preschool, it’ll be a long road ahead of him.” Eddie’s eyes are shiny with the prospect of a fresh batch of tears. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

You try to quell your temper for the sake of professionalism, but your boiling blood makes it almost impossible. “None of that is true. Harris having trouble doesn’t make him impossible to teach. And it doesn’t make you a bad parent.”

Eddie can’t manage eye contact when he says, “But what if I’m the reason why he’s having trouble?” His voice is so small that you can barely hear it.

“I’ve taught a lot of kids with a lot of different needs, and none of them–”

“You’re not listening!” Eddie slams his fist on the desk, rattling your jar of pencils, and you reach out to steady it. His eyes blaze with fury, but this time, it’s not towards you. “It is my fault, because I am a bad parent! I let this happen!”

You crease your brows. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” What, exactly, is his fault? What could he possibly have done?

Eddie shakes his head despondently. “I-I didn’t know…Harris’s mom, she…Christ, it’s a long story.” But you can practically see the words on the tip of his tongue, just waiting for permission to be spoken.

So you give it to him.

“You can talk to me,” you murmur, resisting the urge to grab his hand and lace your fingers through his. Just to comfort him, you tell yourself. “You can trust me.”

Eddie lets out a slow, low breath and looks up at the ceiling. There’s a long silence; for a moment, you worry that you’ve said something wrong. Overstepped your bounds. Harris technically isn’t your student anymore, and God only knows where you and Eddie stand.

Finally, Eddie begins to speak. “I met her out in Chicago when I was twenty-four? Twenty-five? She was a groupie, I guess. We never said we were seeing each other exclusively, but after a while, I realized that she was the only person I was sleeping with, so…” He shrugs. “A couple nights before my band and I left for tour, she told me she was pregnant. Too far along to, um, do anything about it. She apparently didn’t even think to test until she complained about gaining some weight and her friend brought it up.” His gaze shifts to the window over his right shoulder, and all you hear is the sound of his sneakered feet nervously tapping a fast rhythm against the tiled floor. “Look, I’m not proud of this, but I used to party. A lot. And at these parties, there were, um…”

“Drugs?” you supply before you can bite back the comment, clenching your fists at your side where he can’t see you chastising yourself.

Eddie just laughs, a throaty chuckle that escapes despite the seriousness of the conversation. “A shit-ton of ‘em. I was partial to coke; helped me stay awake when I wanted to crash. But I swear, I only used when I was partying. And when I found out I had a kid on the way, I stopped using completely. Cleanest tour of my life.” His lips turn up in a semblance of a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Figured she’d do the same…she said she would, but…”

Your heart sinks; you know exactly where this is going, but you don’t dare interrupt him this time.

“I was at some dive bar in Cincinnati when I got the call that she was in labor; ran right off the stage and caught the first flight back home. I got there in time to watch him be born; and it was the best goddamn moment of my stupid life, until…” His voice breaks on the last word, and he can’t stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes. Or maybe he doesn’t want to. “He was six weeks early. Fuck, I shoulda known, but I was just so excited to be a dad. He was shaking so hard that his tiny little body was practically blurry, and, like a total moron, I’m going, ‘Is he cold? Does he need a blanket?’ No one would answer me; they just fuckin’ whisked him away before I could even hold him. And when they brought him back, they told me that he tested positive for cocaine and had something called Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome because of it. Said it can affect his learning, his attention span, everything. Kid wasn’t even two hours old and I’d already fucked him up.”

Your response seems meek; far too pathetic for the intensity of what he’s just admitted. “But it was his mom…”

He tucks his lips into his mouth, pressing them together until the outer edges turn white.

“Yeah, she was the one using,” he relents, but his tone is so thick with self-loathing that you couldn’t claw through it if you tried. “But where the fuck was I? On the road, thinking I could be a rockstar and take care of a family. If I had stayed back, I could’ve stopped her. I would’ve seen that she wasn’t just doing it at parties or shows; she was an addict. I could’ve gotten her help; I could’ve saved my son from being born a goddamn coke addict!”

“You can’t make someone stop doing drugs,” you say feebly, though you’re certain he already knows this.

“But I could’ve done something! Fucking anything! And it would’ve been better than not being there.”

You have to choose your next words wisely, mulling them on your tongue before talking. “Is she still involved in Harris’s life?”

He shakes his head forlornly. “I invited her to his first birthday party, and she came, surprisingly. All the way from Chicago. I thought maybe she was getting her life together. Then, right before we were gonna cut the cake, she came out of the bathroom with white residue under her nose. I told her to leave and not to come back until she got clean.” He barks out a gruff laugh, as though he still can’t believe it. “Haven’t heard from her since.”

You don’t know how to respond to this. It’s going to be okay seems too patronizing, because nothing about this is okay. I’m sorry? What are you sorry for? Harris’s mom is an atrocious excuse for a human being, and so is Ms. Marion? Kind of tips the balance towards the unprofessionalism you’re striving to avoid.

Eddie continues, not noticing your failure to respond. “The doctors would tell me that he was developing slower than he should be–walking and talking and stuff–but he always got there eventually. But hearing his teacher say that he wouldn’t…fuck, if that’s true, I’ll never forgive myself.” He puffs out his cheeks as he exhales; tendrils of hair flow upwards and flutter back down with the exaggerated breath, and you realize that he’s trying to ward off another crying spell.

You can’t remove the guilt that eats him alive, but maybe he’s not asking you to. “I’ve never met a more determined little kid than Harris Munson,” you say truthfully. “Name one time that boy gave up.”

“For better or for worse, I can’t think of any.” His eyes still don’t meet yours, but you see a flicker of happiness at the mention of Harris’s perseverance before his expression darkens again. “Call me stupid; that’s fine. But my son is gonna be better than I ever was.”

Your heart pangs with sympathy when he puts himself down. “You’re not stupid.” He bristles at your reassurance, puzzling you even more. “What?”

Eddie runs his tongue over his teeth. “That’s not what you said before.” The comment isn’t accusatory, just a simple fact, as though he’s talking about the weather. “On the first day of school, you told me to leave before I said anything else ‘ridiculously stupid.’”

“I just–”

“Look, I’m not saying the Cat-and-Mouse is the nicest thing to do,” he interrupts, cheeks aflame at the mere mention of it, “but I guess it really fucked with me for someone I…someone I just met…to call me stupid.” The phrasing is clunky and awkward, and he sinks his teeth into the tip of his tongue in a paltry attempt to stop the word flow.

You take in his shameful expression, mulling over a response. Knowing what you know now–that his little game was a poorly-designed coping mechanism after being put through the wringer–your comment was harsher than he deserved. “I was hurt, and I…I should’ve just said so. I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Just an asshole?” He tilts his head, finally looking at you. The corners of his mouth turn up to form his first smile of the evening.

“Just an asshole,” you confirm playfully. Another silence fills the room, only interrupted by Eddie crunching on the pretzels you gave him. He’s nibbling on them from the outside, as though savoring each bite. “Mr. Munson?”

“Eddie,” he says, crinkling the empty pretzel bag in his fist and tossing it into the nearby waste bin. “Please, just call me Eddie.” Mr. Munson awakens memories of his father; specifically, the way the cops addressed him each time he got arrested for various offenses.

“Eddie.” Though you’d called him that on the night that you two had fooled around, the name feels foreign in your mouth. Too casual for what you’re about to propose. “Eddie, um, back to the stuff with Harris…” You swallow your nerves and push through, knowing that you need to do what’s best for Harris, even if you have to face his dad’s wrath. “If I suggest something, promise you won’t get mad.”

Eddie flinches, but not for the reason you think. No, it’s because he hates that you’re fearful of his reaction. He hates that he’s made you afraid of him. “Fuck. I mean, yeah. I promise.”

“What…what if we talked to the school psychologist about getting him evaluated for a learning disability?” The words tumble out, and you worry that whatever semblance of acquaintanceship will shatter, leaving you unable to pick up all of the pieces. And even if you can, even the best adhesive can leave visible fractures.

His jaw clenches; his shoulders draw up and biceps flex with a twitch, fight or flight instinct kicking in. This was a horrible idea; he’s already emotional from the conference with Ms. Marion, and now you’ve crossed a line. You’re so caught up in deciphering his body language that you don’t catch his softening eyes as he silently reminds himself that you’re on his side. On Harris’s side, at the very least.

“What does that involve?” he asks. It’s inquisitive, not judgmental, and you permit yourself a small sigh of relief at the narrowly-averted crisis.

You explain the process as Eddie intently listens, nodding to acknowledge that he’s following along. “Nothing invasive; just asking him questions and giving him some tests, and then if he does have a learning disability, we’d figure out what modifications we can make so he can learn alongside the other kids.”

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, considering your recommendation. “Will they know? The other kids, I mean. Will they know that he needs, like, extra help to learn?”

“Nope.” You shake your head. “I don’t know how Ms. Marion runs her classroom, but I always emphasize that everyone learns differently anyway.”

He nods, drumming his fingertips on the desk in a rhythm you can’t decipher. “Do you think…if we do the evaluation, would he go to kindergarten on time?”

“Well, as a teacher, I’m not supposed to say. But as a friend,” you shrug, “I think it’s worth a shot.”

As a friend. A friend. Friend. The word reverberates around Eddie’s brain, replaying like a melody he can’t pause. But he doesn’t want to stop it. He wants you to call him your friend over and over again, enveloping him in your kindness, never letting him go. He wants to wrap his arms around you in a hug and bury his face in the crook of your neck, while he laughs or sobs or a combination of both.

Do friends do that? Or is that something more complex than he can allow himself to imagine?

Your voice brings his perseverations to a grinding halt. “And you can be there while they evaluate him. So he won’t have to be alone.”

Another nod, another pregnant pause. He twists his curls around his pointer finger, brushing them over his lips. “Could you come, too?” he murmurs, quickly clarifying, “for Harris?”

“Of course.” You agree without a second thought, watching as his body unstiffens when he leans back in the chair with a sigh. “And if you want, I could tutor him after school once a week. Catch him up and stuff.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “You’d do that?”

“Mhm,” you beam. It’s like cracking a complex code after aimlessly spinning the dial, hoping to land on the right combination of numbers. “Just…it would have to be at my place, so I can stay home with Grandma. Medicare only pays for her aide to be there for a certain number of hours. I’m actually paying out of pocket so I could be here tonight.” While you’d initially been annoyed at having to spend your hard-earned money just to talk to ungrateful parents, this time with Eddie has made it worth every penny.

“Yeah, no problem,” he easily agrees, starting to stand and brushing some rogue pretzel crumbs from his jeans. “Oh, um, how much do you charge? For the tutoring?”

At this, you giggle. “Eddie, you’re not paying me to work with my,” you lower your voice mid-protest, even though the door is closed and no one else is around, “favorite student.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest defiantly, denim jacket creasing at the elbows. “Well, I’m not gonna let you work for free, so name your price.”

“Fine,” you huff, feigning annoyance. “It’ll cost one…pizza.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Seriously,” you confirm, walking to the supply closet and grabbing your coat. The inside of the sleeves are chilly, having not been exposed to the heat churning through the classroom, and the temperature shift makes you shiver. “Saves me from having to worry about making dinner. And Grandma loves pizza, so it’s one less thing for her to argue about.”

The arguments in question were still happening frequently, though her verbiage was decreasing with each subsequent spat. Last night, you’d told her that she had to turn her TV down so you could sleep. Grandma had repeatedly yelled “no” and “hate you” until you gave up and smushed one half of your pillow over your exposed ear in a pathetic attempt to muffle the sounds of the infomercials blasting from her room.

“I can do that,” he agrees, following you towards the door and stepping out of the way so you can flick off the light, plunging the classroom into total darkness. “Any toppings?”

You think for a moment, tapping your forefinger to your chin as your other hand rotates the key in the door until you hear the soft click of the lock. You twist the knob just to make sure, only turning from the door once you’ve confirmed that it doesn’t open. “Ooh, we both love olives. Get those.”

Eddie scrunches his nose in disgust. “I’ll do half olives, half plain, so Harris and I won’t have to suffer.”

You stop in your tracks. Eddie’s chest bumps against your back. “Oh, I…”

“Shit, that wasn’t an invitation, was it?” He’s blushing, cheeks turning a deep crimson at his gaffe. “Sorry, totally misread–”

“No, no, I’d like the company.” You’ve come to appreciate how much easier it is to navigate Grandma’s moods when there are other people around, but you can’t ask someone to endure that just for your comfort. “‘S just that my grandma…well, you saw her at the hospital that night. She says things that are mean, or inappropriate, or don’t make sense…I don’t want Harris to hear that.”

Eddie just laughs, waving off your concern of Harris. “He grew up around me and Wayne. He’ll probably be teaching her some bad words.”

“Oh, God,” you shudder at the thought of Harris and Grandma swapping swear words. “Then, yeah, I’d love to have you over for dinner. Are Wednesdays at four okay? We can start tomorrow, if that works.”

“Perfect!” Eddie chirps, tossing his car keys upwards and dramatically snatching them mid-air. “I teach guitar lessons, so Wayne’ll drop him off. I’ll swing by around five with the olive pizza.” His pronunciation of the topping is obnoxiously whiny and snide, and you roll your eyes, pushing open the main doors to the school while he trails behind you.

You’re normally not at work this late, and it feels almost unnatural to walk out to a night sky. Clouds obscure the stars, and the dim streetlights do little to pave a discernible path. Eddie seems to be walking in the same direction, and there’s a sense of comfort knowing that you don’t have to navigate the parking lot alone.

The volume of Eddie’s voice lowers considerably as he says, “You’re…you’re kinda the best, y’know that?”

“About time you realized.” You smile as the two of you approach your car. You slide into the driver’s seat, tugging the seatbelt over your shoulder. “Where did you park?”

“Um…” Eddie squints, pointing to a spot clear across the lot. “Right there.”

Your jaw drops. “Eddie!”

“What?”

“Why’d you walk all this way, then?” Your keys sit in the ignition, waiting to be turned over.

“And leave you to trek across this vast terrain all by your lonesome?” He presses his hand to his heart, staggering backwards until he bumps into another parked car. “Ow, shit. So, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yup.” And as he closes your car door with a small wave, it occurs to you that you’re actually looking forward to seeing Eddie Munson.

Elise wasn’t exaggerating when she’d warned you that Grandma was in a mood today. In addition to the usual song and dance to the tune of “those pills aren’t mine,” she’s insisted on changing her clothes no less than four times in the hour since you’ve been home, grumbling that every outfit doesn’t look right. As you wipe down the kitchen counter, sweeping crumbs from your after-work snack into the garbage bin, you hear banging against the living room wall. Never a good sign.

“Grandma?” you call out as you abandon your chore and start towards her. She’s struggling to hold onto the large painting of a sailboat that should be mounted on the wall. You get to her side just before she can topple over, grabbing the artwork from her grasp. “What are you doing? Why did you take this down?”

She looks at it–and you–with utter disgust. “S’ugly,” she mumbles.

There’s no sense in telling her that it was her favorite or that she picked it out herself years ago. Instead, you heave a frustrated sigh. “Okay, well, we’ll just leave it here,” you say, carefully leaning the cherry-lacquered frame against the wall.

“No!” She shakes her head, tousled gray hair brushing against the wrinkles etched into her cheeks. “No, no!” Anger creeps into her voice, and tears appear along her lash line. Truth be told, your tears are not too far behind.

“Look, I’ll just…turn it around. See?” You swivel the painting so it faces the wall; all that’s visible now is the sad beige frame backing. It’s hard to believe that she finds this view more appealing than the soft watercolor brushstrokes of blues and greens, but you leave it as is, until she inevitably demands to know why it’s no longer hanging up.

The harsh buzz of the intercom brings your quasi-argument to an abrupt end. You can hear some shuffling, and then an older man’s raspy voice instructs, “say who you are so she knows you’re here.”

“HARRIS!” The little boy exclaims loudly. “Oh, and my Grampa Wayne!”

The sound of his voice alone is enough to bring a smile to your face. You press the button that lets them into the building, quickly ushering Grandma into her room and putting on the Animal Planet. A rerun of Wildlife SOS blares through the TV, and you can only hope that Harris won’t be too distracted by the noise. It certainly beats being the recipient of one of her incoherent rants.

The frantic knock on the door ushers away your anxious thoughts. “Ms. Sweetheart, I’m here!”

“Relax, buddy,” the older man–Wayne–gently reminds him.

You open the door, grinning as Harris barrels into the apartment. His little arms wrap around your waist as he envelops you in a tight hug. “Ms. Sweetheart! I’m at your house!”

“You are,” you agree with a laugh, patting his back with your palm before offering your hand to his grandfather. “And you must be Grampa Wayne.”

The older man chuckles as he shakes your hand in his own calloused one. The whiskers above his lips and on his chin are white, flecks of gray stubble peppered along his jawline. “‘S nice to put a face to the name. All I hear about lately is how wonderful Ms. Sweetheart is.” He bashfully scratches at the wisps of hair that lay flat along the crown of his head.

Taking compliments is not your strongest suit, but you manage. “Trust me, I’ve heard some great things about Grampa Wayne, too. I’m just glad Harris loves being my student as much as I love teaching him.”

“Huh?” Wayne’s forehead crinkles in confusion before he catches himself. “Oh, yeah, Harris. Right.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, Ed’ll be here at five.”

“He’s bringing PIZZA!” Harris shouts, unable to contain his excitement as he pumps a tiny fist in the air.

Wayne shakes his head, as if to say, this kid. “C’mere, Har. Give me a hug goodbye.” Harris all but leaps into his grandpa’s arms, spider-monkeying his legs around his waist. Emotion wells within you as the gesture reminds you of the easy way love used to flow between you and Grandma. No questions or doubts about who you were or how she would perceive you in that moment.

As soon as Wayne leaves, Harris tugs on the hem of your shirt, peering up at you with a gigantic grin. “Daddy telled me that you’re gonna teach me again! But not at school.”

“Mhm!” you say, guiding him over to the kitchen table. You’ve cleared a spot for the two of you to work. There’s a stack of flashcards in front of your chair, and Harris eyes them curiously. “Those are gonna help you learn letter names and sounds. You’ll be reading like a pro in no time.”

He eagerly nods, flinging one little leg onto the chair and climbing onto it haphazardly. He’s facing the back of the chair with his knees tucked underneath him, and he shifts until he’s sitting on his bottom, eye-level with the tabletop. “I can’t see anything!” he harrumphs grumpily.

“Here, you can face me,” you tell him, holding the chair steady as he swivels around again. “There ya go. This works out better anyway.” You tap the deck of cards on the table, watching as Harris kicks his feet in anticipation. “We’re gonna play a game with these,” you say, keeping your tone full of excitement. “I’ll hold up a letter, and you tell me what the letter’s name is and the sound it makes. And if it’s a little tricky, there’s a picture on the back that might help you out. Sounds good?”

Harris considers this, tongue poking out between his lips, and you can’t help but notice the way he mimics Eddie’s actions. “Can I see the picture even if it isn’t tricky?” he asks.

“Absolutely.” You shuffle the deck, making a dramatic show of closing your eyes and folding the cards into a bridge. “Let me give you an example.” You grab the card off of the top, the letter R printed in bold, black lettering. “This is the letter R. It makes the rrrr sound.”

“What’s the picture?” Harris squeals, clapping his hands together, the sound muffled by the cast on his wrist. When you flip the card around to reveal a cartoon robot, he cackles like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen. “He has triangles for eyes! That is so silly!”

“That is silly,” you agree with a laugh, putting the card at the back of the deck and holding up the next one for him. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Remember, just do your best. This is just so I can see what we need to work on.”

He nods, sitting up straight as he reads the letter F.

“Nice job, Har! And what sound does F make?” This is more difficult for him, and he squints as though it will help him remember.

“Umm, eh?” He knows it’s not correct, and you watch as his shoulders begin to slump dejectedly. “I…I don’t know.” His lower lip juts out, quivering as he admits it.

You keep your tone light and breezy. “No worries! We can always look at the picture, and if it’s still tricky, we can figure it out together.” You show him the french fries on the back of the card.

“French fries!” Harris exclaims giddily.

“And what sound does french fries start with?” You enunciate the start of the words, but he still can’t seem to get the pronunciation. His breath hitches with frustration, chubby fingers digging into his tousled curls to pull at them. “You can ask me for help if you need to. That’s what I’m here for!”

His tiny “need help” is almost inaudible, head drooping towards his chest in defeat. “Everyone needs help sometimes,” you say kindly, pointing to the flashcard to draw his attention back to it. “F makes the ffff sound. Go ahead, try it.”

Harris emulates you, bits of spittle flying as he makes the noise over and over again. “This is fun!” he cheers, eyes widening when he comes to a realization. “Hey, fun starts with the fffff sound, too!”

“Sure does!” You raise your hand for a high-five, shaking it in mock-agony when he slaps it. “Wow, Har, you’re super strong! Okay, let’s try the next one.”

With a few breaks to release some energy, Harris continues stumbling through the rest of the alphabet unceremoniously. He’s definitely behind, you realize, but not so badly that he’s unable to catch up with some extra help.

“Only a couple more to go,” you assure him, presenting the card with the letter P.

“P!” he yells, a grin spreading from ear to ear across his sweet face. “An’ it makes the puh sound!” He reaches out and plucks the flashcard from between your fingers, turning it to see the picture on the back. “It’s a princess.” His eyes flit between you and the pink poofy dress-clad cartoon. “Me an’ Daddy think you’re pretty like a princess.”

There’s no time to ask for further clarification before a loud bang erupts from Grandma’s bedroom. You swear silently, somehow still aware of the four-year-old beside you as you dash to her door. Instinctually, you grab the knob and twist, only to be met with resistance.

“Grandma!” you call out, pounding your fist as loudly as you can. “Grandma, open the door!” You hear the soft, slow pad of her footsteps, watching as the door knob turns slightly before it stops.

“‘S broke,” Grandma says from her side, and relief temporarily floods your senses with the knowledge that she’s unscathed enough to get to the door.

“No, it’s just locked. I need you to unlock it.” Another brief twitch, then nothing. “You…you have to turn the little dial on it. See how it’s horizontal—um, left to right? It needs to go up and down. Can you switch it?” Jiggle jiggle, silence. No attempt to toggle the dial.

“Ms. Sweetheart? ‘S everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, honey,” you lie through your teeth. “Why don’t you go look at the pictures on the—”

BZZZT!

“Pizza delivery!” Eddie croons through the intercom. “One half plain, half gross—sorry, half olive—”

“Eddie!” you press your finger to the button, cutting him off more sharply than you mean to. “Eddie, my grandma locked herself in her room, and she can’t remember how to open it.” Your voice catches in your throat, and you swallow the lump in a determined attempt not to break down in front of your guests.

There’s a pause before his voice floats through the box again. “Gimme a sec.” That’s all he says before he’s gone as quickly as he arrived, and you turn to face the inquisitive little boy who remains glued to your side.

“Har, why don’t you go sit at the table until Daddy comes.” Thankfully, he doesn’t put up a fight, and you’re able to turn your attention back to the crisis. “Grandma, can you please turn the dial?” But when you’re met with another disheartening turn of the doorknob, you have to accept defeat.

BZZZT!

“It’s me; let me up,” Eddie’s words are straightforward but not brusque or curt, and you buzz him in without wasting any time. He’s at your door in a hurry, and you open it before he can knock twice. He’s got the pizza box balancing in his right hand and a small rectangular container tucked under his arm. “Is she hurt?” he asks, handing you the box as you lead him towards Grandma’s room.

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. She’s been twisting the doorknob, but she doesn’t understand what I mean when I asked her to unlock it.”

He nods, examining the knob for a second before unfastening the box’s latch and pulling out a tool that resembles a miniature hook. Splitting his stance, he squints and pokes his tongue from his mouth, just as his son had done earlier. Within seconds, you hear the telltale click of the door unlocking, and you exhale audibly. Relief floods your body as your shoulders untense; you hadn’t even realized you’d pinched them together. Behind Grandma, the TV has toppled to the floor, screen now resting on top of the beige carpet, but that’s the least of your concerns.

“Are you all right?” you ask her, checking for scrapes and scratches, but she luckily appears to have escaped unscathed. “How did this even fall?” You pick up the TV, wincing as you get a glimpse of the spider web of cracked glass right in the center.

“Dunno,” Grandma shrugs, moving past you to get to the piping hot pizza that you’ve placed on the kitchen table. She slides into the chair you’d just been sitting on, pushing the pile of flashcards away clumsily. “‘M hungry.”

You look at Eddie and Harris and muster up a smile. “Guess it’s dinner time! Oh, Grandma, wait for a plate.” You grab four of the plastic pale blue plates from the cabinet to set the table, giving one to Grandma first. You place one at the spot Harris had just occupied, and one in front of the third and final chair–

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath before addressing the boys again. “Um, we only have three chairs. ‘S normally just me and Grandma, and sometimes her aide–”

“No worries,” Eddie waves off your concern, scooping Harris up and resting him against his hip. “Harris can sit on my lap.”

“Or I can sit on Ms. Sweetheart’s lap!” Harris squeals, wriggling out of his dad’s grasp. “Or Ms. Sweetheart can sit on your lap!”

You cough as Eddie turns bright red, cheeks the same shade as the marinara sauce buried under a thick layer of cheese. He sweeps Harris on top of his thighs and snags a slice of pizza for each of them. “Uh, yeah, no,” he mumbles, taking a gigantic cheesy bite in an attempt to end the conversation.

Dinner goes as well as it possibly can. Harris asks to try an olive, promptly spitting it onto his plate as soon as the taste hits his tongue. Grandma tells Eddie no less than five times that she likes his shirt, thoroughly embarrassing you, but he just politely says “thank you,” each time as though it’s the first. At one point, Harris gives him a bewildered glance, but before he can say anything, Eddie whispers, “I’ll explain later, bud.”

The rest of the meal is filled with conversations about work and school. Eddie tells a story about how a customer came into the store completely frazzled after listening to a Nirvana album. “She thought it was about Buddhism, and was very distraught when she got Kurt Cobain instead. Guess she missed the whole…” He mimics holding a gun to his head, and you laugh at the crude gesture, slapping his hand out of the way before Harris can see. Luckily, the boy is too engrossed in dissecting his slice to notice.

Grandma retreats to her room as soon as she finishes her dinner, and Harris gets bored soon after, squirming to the floor and dashing to the living room TV set–now the only working one in the house. That leaves you and Eddie at the table alone.

“I can take your plate if you’re done,” you say as you lean over, scoffing when Eddie starts to get up and bring his empty dish to the sink. “Hey, let me clean up. You brought the pizza.”

“Yeah, because you tutored Harris,” he reminds you, swooping in to grab your plate as well. “So we’re even.”

“Even?” you ask incredulously. “After you rescued my grandma and kept us company during dinner? Do you know how long it’s been since I had an actual conversation during a meal?”

Eddie chuckles at this. “I think ‘rescued’ is a bit dramatic. All I did was unlock a door; not exactly superhero stuff.” He shakes his hair back behind his shoulders.

“She could’ve been hurt,” you point out earnestly, following him to shoo him away from the pile of dirty dishes, “and without you, my only option was to take a battering ram to the door. I don’t even know where I would buy one of those.”

“Have you tried Melvald’s? They sell everything there. ‘S actually where I got Harris.” Eddie teases, hand inching towards the faucet.

“Eddie, sit down and relax. Don’t you dare turn on the water.” Your eyes widen as he locks his gaze with yours, flicking on the spout indignantly and grabbing the sponge without breaking eye contact. “Eddie, I mean it–”

He smacks the sponge against a plate and harshly brushes it up and down, still staring at you. “Oops,” he deadpans, rinsing it and haphazardly placing it in the dishrack before picking up another one. “Oops again.”

“Give me that!” you charge over to him, yanking it away before he realizes what you’re doing. You squeeze the bottle of soap over the already-saturated sponge just to emphasize your point. “Go watch TV with your son and let me clean up.”

He’s quiet for a moment, leaning back next to you. The hem of his shirt makes contact with some water that sprayed out of the sink, but he doesn’t notice; if he does, then he doesn’t care. “I don’t usually have anyone to talk to at night, either. And with Harris–I mean, I love him to fuckin’ death, but a guy can only hear so much about the latest episode of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers.” He clears his throat, but the words come out even softer somehow. “I like talking to you.”

The water runs uninterrupted by any movement as you look into his warm eyes. Flecks of gold punctuate the deep chocolate orbs that are drinking you in. They're the same eyes that you looked into on the night that he’d brought you back to his place. The eyes that shot daggers at you while he spewed venom at you in the music store. The eyes that could barely look at you when he’d somberly confessed his past, more motivated by anxiety than trust. The eyes that could flip your world upside down if you let them.

He lets his thumb graze yours as he grabs the newly clean plate from your hand, wiping it with a towel until it’s impossibly dry. You can’t look away from his lips, the way they practically scream kiss me. And you want to. Fuck, you want to so badly.

But you’re not stupid. Possibly naive, hooking up with him nearly three months ago and thinking it would have no emotional impact on you, but not stupid. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

“Same time next week?” you blurt out, taking you both by surprise. It’s too abrupt to be natural, but you don’t care. You need to stop this before it starts. Again.

Eddie recovers quickly, though his nod is a bit delayed. “It’s a date. Uh, a tutoring date. For Harris.”

“For Harris.”

Harris is at your classroom door the next morning, knocking excitedly. “Ms. Sweetheart, I got something for you!” Digging into his backpack, he produces a plastic bag tied in a knot. Bradley’s Big Buy is stamped on the side, but the contents aren’t anything you’d find in the supermarket.

It’s a lockout kit; the same kind that he’d used last night to unlock Grandma’s door. There’s a note Scotch-taped to it, and you read it silently:

I hope it doesn’t happen again, but I wanted you to be prepared in case it does.

-Eddie

P.S. Don’t try to pay me back. It was much cheaper than a battering ram.

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @theactualf0ck @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights @eggo-segual @rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @luceneraium @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @imaginexred @haylaansmi @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @stevesmunson @hiscrimsonangel @ffrvtvt @mrsjellymunson @idkatee @quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @comboboo @ashlynnkennedy @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

2K notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 1 month

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 54 (12.1)

part 1 | part 53 | ao3

cw: angst

Chapter 12

Steve drives to Chicago.

He wakes up to an empty bed and a sticky note by the kitchen phone, words scribbled over so the only legible thing left is the word sorry underlined in jagged black, and his breath sticks in his chest and he can't be here anymore. Epiphany ringing like a gong, sending ripples through his marrow, because the walls are closing in and Eddie decorated those walls — splattered himself over every inch of this place, and now he's just the newest haunt in a line of ghosts that Steve can't shake. He thought he’d gotten rid of them, but now he hears them louder than ever. In the hiss of the faucet, in the buzz of the fridge; they’re moaning in his bad ear and rattling his bones, and he can't be here alone with them he can't be here he can't—

So he drives.

Gets in his car with nothing but a spare jacket and a crumpled pack of cigs. If ever there was a time to pick the habit up in earnest. Eddie’s van is gone, and Steve’s heart is bruised; it's bleeding out inside him, pumping fresh hurt with every beat, so he lights a cigarette with shaking hands and heads north. Takes the back roads to the on-ramp of I-65, drives for hours; drives for years, speeding down empty stretches of highway with nothing but roadkill for company.

At some point he rolls the windows down until the icy wind makes his cheeks burn, but he can't really feel them. Can't feel his face, or his fingers, or his heart.

All the world is snow and asphalt, and Steve Harrington is alone.

He tries to drown it out with music. The radio mocks him with swooning quartets love songs — 'put your head on my shoulder' and 'life could be a dream' — and all the tapes he can reach belong to Eddie, so he pulls over on the narrow shoulder of an overpass bridge and screams and screams and screams while he chucks the cassettes over the edge.

Fuck Eddie.

Fuck him.

"FUCK YOU!!" he shouts to the foggy nothingness.

The words dig in sharp; pocket knife twisting in the space below his kidneys.

The fog doesn't respond.

Back in the car, his thoughts turn to his mom. Because he's driving to her, he knows — knew it in his splintering bones and haunted blood the moment he left town. He's driving back to his first ghost, as if confronting the original will somehow exorcise the rest.

Miles pass in silence, and Steve paints over the canvas of what-ifs again and again, oily streaks in the underpainting as he tries to set the scenes just right: quiet, tearful confrontations in his aunt's formal living room, graceless screaming matches out on the front lawn. In one version he never makes it past the guard at the front gate, and in another he just eggs the stupid lion statues leading up to the house while his mom silently weeps from the top of the stairs.

He doesn't know if his mom would laugh at that.

He doesn't know her much at all.

And that fucking hurts; that sits like acid in his lungs, because his mom was his first friend. When he was little — before the housekeepers and nannies, before his mom started tailing his dad on business trips like a trained dog on a leash — they spent so much time together. Trips to the playground, to the library, to the pool. He'd perch himself on her vanity when she got ready in the mornings, use her hairbrush as a microphone to sing along to 50s doo-wop, and she'd giggle and call him her little superstar, so he'd come up with stupid dance moves just to make her smile more.

He misses that. The script, the routine. How he'd spin around in his socks on the slippery bathroom tile and look up at her with her big hair full of rollers and her big eyes full of stars, and he'd say, "Hey! How come your eyes are all twinkly?"

And she'd grin and pinch his cheek and give the same answer every time: "Because you're the light of my life."

"I wish I knew what you'd say now," he whispers to the empty car.

For a moment he envisions that she's sitting there with him, that she's filling the blank space where the boy who broke his heart should be, but he can't remember her cadence well enough to mimic it; can't put words in her mouth when he no longer knows her lines, and with something a bit like horror and a lot like despair it occurs to him that he can't remember what she looks like. There's an apparition in his blind spot, but it's formless and unstable. The shade of its hair keeps changing; the texture, the length.

When he tries to make it speak, it shrugs and dissipates.

—

part 55

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

253 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 18 days

Text

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

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

What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it.

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats.

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.”

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died.

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream.

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.

He has no mouth, but he must scream.

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood.

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off.

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts.

Scrappy is just not enough.

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all.

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash.

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings.

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice.

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail.

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it.

Being dead is agony.

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow.

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever.

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be.

Being dead hurts.

#tw mild gore #cw mild blood #cw mentioned violence #dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #cfau #cfau danny #obsessed with the fact that danny just has the WORST fucking time after jason dies and baby i can make it worse #*kills you and makes you a banshee and puts you in an irrevocable state of grief*#delicious angst. danny is having the wORSt time ever lol. lmao even #was originally meant to explore the idea that danny can survive lethal injuries as phantom. which briefly got mentioned.#but i got away from myself. leaning reaaal heavy into the fact that danny's a banshee. At 19 he's got a pretty good handle of himself #but imagine being a fresh out the gate banshee. usually they get time to themselves in the zone to cry until their heart's content.#sorry danny. you have school tomorrow and family sleeping in the bedroom next door #kinda proud of myself. you can kinda see how Rath would've occurred here.#danny is going through it rn #was gonna add a snippet about the city's thoughts on phantom but couldnt fit it in

232 notes · View notes

mediumgayitalian · 18 days

Text

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She is entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, mock outraged, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Annabeth’s eyes narrow. “Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid —”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes as her grip on the Mist loosens.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding suddenly dawns on her.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys, stopped before you’re even started,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a bright grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

#untagged and unedited #will post the whole thing tomorrow swearsies

153 notes · View notes

norrisleclercf1 · 2 months

Note

I hear you wanted a dad blurb

Pleaseeeee can you do smt with Elijah x Lorenzo getting into trouble together

A/N: Lorenzo and Elijah together is very dangerous

"This is so stupid, and when we get caught Uncle Lando and Uncle Charles are going to kill us." Lorenzo whispers, Elijah waving him off as they sneak through the paddock, late at night.

"Dude, don't you want to get it? If we don't, we lose Truth or Dare. And I refuse to lose to Charlotte Verstappen." Elijah growls and Lorenzo rolls his eyes. Grabbing the back of Elijah's shirt and pulling him back as the guard walks past them. "How about you pay attention, so we don't get caught. Papi would kill me if we got caught doing this." Lorenzo groans as they sneak towards the Red Bull garage.

"Listen, Uncle Max retired when we were 17. Why the hell do they carry that around?" Elijah whispers as they stop looking around and go in through the back door. "I don't know, all I know is Red Bull asked to keep Max's first WDC. Now, let's get in there, grab it and return before we get caught." Lorenzo opens the door.

Both boys flinch hearing the door creak as they head to the office and pray that the door isn't locked. "Who the hell leaves the office door locked?" Elijah grumbles but stops remembering his Papa was the last out of the office.

"Seriously?" "Listen, just shut up." Lorenzo rolls his eyes as they stand up and stare at the trophy behind the desk. "Woah," Both boys stare at awe of the WDC trophy. "Do you think I could ever be as great as my dad's?" Elijah asks, at 19 he wanted nothing more than to have the career that Lando and Charles have.

"Okay, now is not the time to get mushy, Eli. Grab the fucking trophy." Lorenzo smacks the younger head who grumbles and picks it up. "Damn, it's heavy, how'd Uncle Max lift this thing up?" "It was quite easy when you're filled with adrenaline." A voice says behind them.

"Lo?" "Yeah, Eli?" "There's not a chance, that Uncle Max is behind us, is there?" Lorenzo turns slightly and see the broad build of Uncle Max. "Eli?" "Yeah, Lo?" "It's Uncle Max." They turn around quick and stare as Max stares at them with a smirk.

"You honestly thought my little girl wouldn't have told me what you two were doing?" Elijah opens his mouth but closes it seeing his Dad behind him glaring. "Hey, Dad." "Hey Uncle Lando." Lorenzo waves, but stops seeing the seriously pissed off look.

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

"I can not, believe you two? Stealing Max's original, first WDC. Do you have any idea how disrespectful and wrong that is?" Carlos snaps, and Lorenzo curls in on himself. "Uncle Carlos, please it was just a stupid game." Elijah explains but Charles cuts him a sharp look.

"I told them it was a bad idea Daddy." Charlotte smiles, and Elijah seriously thought about drowning her in this moment. "Oh fuck off Charlotte, you're the one who dared us anyways!' Lorenzo snaps, and Charlotte scuffs. "Why would I do that? I'm not deliquents like you." "That's it!" Elijah lunges but Lorenzo pulls him back as Charlotte sticks out her tongue.

"Hey! Enough!" Lando snaps and the kids fall quiet. It was an unwritten rule to never piss off Lando. He was the soft one, but if you got him mad enough, you'd never see light again. "Dad?" Everyone turns seeing the youngest Verstappen. "Ivan? What is it?" Max asks, pulling his son in.

"Charlotte totally dared the guys to go and steal your trophy. She knew that you'd and Uncle Lando would be stopping by because Uncle Charles always leaves his extra rings on the desk. So she set the whole thing up to get them trouble since they beat her at last weeks truth or dare." Ivan explains and Lorenzo has never been happier that he gives that kid a ride in their cars all the time.

"Really now?" Max turns and Charlotte shrinks in on herself. "Boys?" Carlos asks and they look up at him, as he nods his head to the door. "Get out of here. And don't think about touching that WDC until you've won it. Got it?" "Yes Sir!"

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 scenario #f1 blurb #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 one shot #lando norris imagine #max verstappen imagine #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #our boy series #lorenzo and carlos

328 notes · View notes

kechiwrites · 1 year

Note

instead of verbally apologizing for fucking up the cake reader spent three hours baking, bd ghost holds her down and eats her out from the back :/

im feral for this. further along in their reconciliation methinks. (not so)toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader cw: afab!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, semi public i guess, no gendered terms, mdni

You’re dying. You must be. That ever constant burn in your chest, how your arms shake as they hold you up against your kitchen counter, the way your lungs just can’t seem to hold onto air. It’s all the signs of the last moments of your life, and you’re going to die with Ghost’s mouth pressed to the lips of your pussy through your underwear.

"Wh-what the fuck?" Your foot almost slips in the destroyed birthday cake on the ground, the image of Spider-Man made completely unrecognizable by gravity and Ghost’s propensity to walk silently.

A wrong he means to right by tracing your clit with his tongue, apparently?

“This isn’t going to fix the cake, asshole.” You hiss, covering your mouth when your ex/current/sometimes boyfriend nips at the inner fat of your thigh. You can feel the fabric of your panties stick to your heat, soaked with your slick and his spit, and it’s making you increasingly lightheaded. Beyond the kitchen, Tommy is playing with his friends from the neighbourhood, loudly celebrating his 5th year of existence, the one that quote; “makes me a big kid now!”, with a bouncy castle and a piñata.

And oh, how you wish you could go outside and snap pictures of your precious baby boy laughing and smiling under the sunny sky in your backyard, making memories that’ll last a lifetime. Unfortunately, the father of said baby boy keeps you pinned to the counter top with both hands against your legs while he eats your pussy from the back.

“I’ll get a new one after this.” He murmurs, the vibrations of his voice teasing your clit mercilessly.

“Go now!” You scream-whisper, pushing at his head with your palm, hoping to deter further debauchery.

“Not yet.” He hooks his thumb into the seat of your underwear and pulls it aside before burying his tongue within your folds, fucking into you as hard as he can manage. Your foot slides for real this time and Ghost has to lift one of your legs up so he can get proper access.

Proper access meaning he can brush his tongue over the tight furl of your ass while he slides two fingers into your pussy. The lone leg you're standing on quivers, your knee almost giving out as he expertly drags his fingertips over your g-spot, tonguing where your cunt is stretched around him. It’s not fair, it’s criminal, the way he hums when you shudder a quick, unsuspecting orgasm on his digits, letting him fuck into you deep, while you rock your hips to ride out the feeling. You hang your head low, breathing deep and slow before you let your suspended foot hit the floor again, shifting so he can’t stay inside you.

You arrange your clothes the best you can, shoving at his shoulder as he stays kneeling on the floor.

“Move big-head. Go get a cake, now.” He rises, expression neutral but eyes sparkling like he’d just been fucking knighted.

He hightails it out of your home, but not before peeking his head out of the back door to let your son know he’d be back shortly. You can hear your son’s happy and care-free response when you stoop down to begin wiping smears of icing and sponge off the ground, dropping heavily laden paper towels into the trash. Before he can slip out the front door you shout at Ghost’s back; “Make sure it’s a Spider-Man cake or I will kill you!”

earlier: tommy gets skull facepaint to match his dad :)

1K notes · View notes

juceynightmare · 10 months

Text

give me your forever (18+) - hook x reader songfic oneshot

my masterlist

hook masterlist

pairing(s): hook x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, time skipping, underage drug and alcohol use, use of pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, praise kink, degradation kink, hints of jealous!hook at one part

genre(s): fluff, smut, established relationship, multi-media fic.

word count: 11,454

summary: the day has finally come where y/n graduates college. however, y/n is more nervous about the fact that today is also the day when she gets to introduce tyler as her boyfriend of 8 years rather than her “good friend since elementary” to her parents. she's so nervous, in fact, that she texts tyler during the ceremony and the two go down memory lane.

song: give me your forever by zack tabudlo

[y/n] AHHHH

[tyler] woah there missy. don’t you have a ceremony you should be paying attention to?

[y/n] you’re not even paying attention

[tyler] actually, i am. as soon as they pan the camera over to your family and me, i’m lifting up this giant photo of you they gave to me

[y/n] WHAT FUCKING GIANT PHOTO

[tyler] it’s literally your head on a stick

[tyler] but what’s wrong? i can feel your distress all the way out here

[y/n] i’m nervous

[tyler] all you have to do is walk across a stage, grab your diploma, shake some hands, and you’re done

[tyler] you’ve done it before

[y/n] not that

[y/n] i’m nervous about telling my parents

[y/n] i’m shocked they’re not even questioning that you’re here

[tyler] we’ll be fine

[y/n] you know how they are

[y/n] they’re gonna freak out when they find out you’re my BOYFRIEND of EIGHT YEARS

[tyler] you remember the rule, don’t you?

[y/n] blah blah, no dating until i get my degree because boys will distract me and i’ll fail school and become a drug addict

[tyler] and what are you about to do

[y/n] ??? idk ??? die ?????

[tyler] im the one who dropped out of college to make a living out of beating people up but here you are not even able to connect the dots. i’ll answer for you.

[tyler] you’re about to get your degree.

[tyler] you proved them wrong. you’re not a drug addict and you’re graduating college with a degree in computer science.

[tyler] might i add that you’re also at the very top of your program :) my smart girl

[y/n] still doesn’t mean they won’t flip out

[y/n] yeah i proved them wrong but what if they don’t accept us? accept you?

[tyler] we’re going to be okay, mamas. i’m not going anywhere. nothing is going to happen to us.

[tyler] i promise you.

[tyler] i’ll take care of you.

[tyler] i’ve always taken care of you, mamas. haven’t i?

do you remember? when we were young you were always with your friends wanted to grab your hand and run away from them

“that’s a stupid fucking rule.” tyler muttered, a joint hanging between his lips as he cupped his hand around the end so he could light it.

“you tell me! like, do they really have that little faith in me that they think i’ll fail school all because of a boy? how idiotic is that!” y/n huffed angrily, kicking tanbark up into the air.

tyler was sitting alone at the end of the stairs of the play structure when y/n walked up to him and sat beside him, already beginning to ramble her little head off. it truly bewildered tyler how a girl could have so much trouble with her parents when they were both only eighth graders. then again, tyler was certain his dad would beat his ass until he was bruised and bloodied if he found out the type of crowd that tyler's been involved with, and the shit he was currently doing.

“i think they’re just protective of you and that’s why they have that rule in place.” he answered, inhaling and holding the smoke in his mouth before pulling the joint away from his lips. he held it out for y/n to take, although he knew that she wouldn’t take it. as the girl shook her head politely, tyler inhaled the smoke into his lungs and held it there before blowing out into the air.

“yeah? well i think they’re irrational. god, i wish i could just prove them wrong so that when the day comes that i graduate college, i can laugh in their faces like, ‘jokes on you! i had a boyfriend the whole time!’” she groaned frustratedly, pulling out her phone when she felt it start to buzz. y/n answered the call and held it up to her ear. “yeah, mom. i’m at the same park i always wait at for you to pick me up… yes the club’s good… no i’m not alone, i’m with tyler… you know, my friend from elementary? … mom, he’s not my boyfriend! … no, he’s not a bad influence he’s -“ she took a second to glance over at tyler, watching the boy take another puff from his joint and covering her nose as the wind blew the puff of smoke towards her direction. “he’s just a normal middle school boy, mom. … no, i already told you he’s not my boyfriend! … what do you mean stay away from him? i’ve been waiting at this park every day since i’ve started middle school and he’s been here every day making sure no creep talks to me. he’s a good guy, mom! mom?” she huffed as she shoved her phone back in her pocket, realizing her mom had hung up on her.

“you know, i like the idea of you proving them wrong and laughing in their faces.” tyler pitched in after he blew out the smoke into the air. he looked over at the girl, catching her gaze. “what better way to prove your parents wrong than by dating the ‘baddest boy’ in school, as everyone calls me. your mom seems to think that i’m a bad guy too.” he mused, watching the way y/n seemed to think over tyler’s words.

“are you asking me out?” y/n asked, her eyes suddenly widening at the implication of tyler’s agreement.

he shrugged his shoulders, flicking off the ash at the end of his joint into the tanbark below them. “you’re my friend. you’re cute. i think i’ll be more than okay with dating you. besides,” he began, reaching out to sling his arm over y/n’s shoulders to pull her into his side. “you’ve said it yourself. i’ve been here every day since we’ve started middle school because i know you have your little after-school clubs and would most likely be waiting alone. i’d hate it if some creep came and took away my friend.”

“what’s in it for me?” she asked, feeling her face warm up from being so close next to tyler. she could smell the cheap cologne that clung to his skin, and y/n tried not to lean against him.

but tyler had his own plans, as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the girl’s forehead. “you get to experience life outside of textbooks and strict parents barring you from parties. i’ll help you sneak out and take the blame for everything.”

she blinked up at him once he pulled away, and y/n wondered how she never noticed tyler’s dimpled smile before.

“you’ve got a deal, senerchia. but i get to make the rules.”

“that’s fine. but don’t think that i won’t take care of you, y/n. you’re my girlfriend now, and my mom taught me how to treat my woman.”

i knew it that it was time to tell you how i feel so i made a move, i took your hand my heart was beating loud like i've never felt before

[y/n] yeah you have

[y/n] even before we started dating LOL

[tyler] can't believe you had no idea i had a massive crush on you

[tyler] what fucking loser just sits around a park and waits for a girl who has after school clubs

[y/n] you. you're the loser.

[tyler] there was another dude

[y/n] jackson??? i remember him being there in the beginning of seventh grade

[tyler] he had a crush on you, that's why he was also waiting

[y/n] you're lying. why am i just now hearing about this?

[tyler] yeah, i told him i was your boyfriend and he backed off and never waited for you again

[y/n] well, at least you didn't punch him like that dude at lisa's party

[tyler] you said it was fair game

[y/n] i didn't think he'd have to go to the hospital because he got concussed!

[tyler] he touched what's mine.

[tyler] you told me i could punch him once, and i made sure it counted.

[tyler] besides, i got pussy afterwards so it's a win

[y/n] oh calm your ego.

[y/n] i can literally SMELL the testosterone radiating from the crowd and it smells like YOU.

[y/n] WAS THAT YOU THAT JUST "AWOOOOO"'D HELLA LOUD

[y/n] HONEY??

[y/n] oh my fucking GOD I SEE MY GIANT ASS HEADS

[tyler] i got that dawg in me

[tyler] woof. (with rizz)

you were smiling at me like you wanted more i think you're the one i've never seen before

"i want to go home." she whispered, her voice almost getting lost amongst the sounds of the bustling party if it wasn't for the way tyler focused on only her. he was so attentive that he'd be hyper fixated on her whenever she'd take a breath.

"everything okay, baby?" tyler asked quietly, taking her cup away from her and setting both of their cups down on the windowsill beside them. he guided her to wrap her arms around his neck before pulling her in by her waist and ducking his head so that she could speak directly into his ear.

the two of them had come far from being eighth graders waiting by a playground for their parents to pick them up. they were now sophomores juniors in high school, if we consider the fact that sophomore year just ended and they were now at a grad party for a friend of tyler's that had just graduated high school. tyler had gotten significantly taller, and his voice had deepened in a delicious manner that sent y/n's head reeling whenever he'd talk to her. y/n for the most part had stayed the same, but the baby fat on her face had started to slim down and tyler tried his best not to let his gaze trail down further to where she had began to look more... womanly... for lack of better words.

they hadn't ever talked about the way their relationship started. from what was once something that y/n had entered to spite her parents had now blossomed into a full blown relationship with tyler that she cherished above everything else in the world. and for tyler? well, the boy had always had a little crush on y/n whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, and now that she is his, tyler couldn't be any happier.

and the best part? no one knew but them. well, people had speculations and they'd whisper, but y/n and tyler would only ever be so touchy at parties. at school, they didn't even talk to each other because of their different social circles and classes. and when they were asked what they were to each other...

"oh, yeah. she's/he's been my friend since elementary school." followed by either a "my parents told him to make sure i stay safe at parties, that's why he's always with me." or a "we all know she's too innocent for the party life. i gotta make sure no one taints her, you know?" depending on who was answering.

"you know how you stepped away to get us drinks?" she asked softly, feeling him nod his head. y/n took a deep breath, stepping closer to tyler and feeling his arms wrap around her waist. "that dude to the right of us in the flannel walked by me and full on grabbed my ass."

tyler didn't know if it was the disco lighting, but he suddenly saw red at y/n's words and he felt as though he sobered up in a second. his head snapped in the other boy's direction, his jaw clenching and his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he made out the stranger's frame. tyler pulled her closer to him until she was completely pressed against his front, dipping his head back down to ask her, "what else did he do?"

tyler noted how the other boy had glanced over at where he and y/n stood once he returned, and now tyler knew why. it was taking everything in him to not walk over there right now and plant his fist square in his- "well, he didn’t do anything else besides that. i guess i should be more specific about how he did it though. he like... you know the thing you do? where you put your hand in my back pocket and spin me into a kiss? yeah he tried that and tried smooth talking his way with me. i don't think he was gonna back off until he got pulled away by those two girls he's talking to right now."

if looks could kill, tyler was certain that he'd have burned a hole through the boy's chest and killed him without even needing the other boy to notice the murderous look in his gaze. "can i punch him?"

"tyler!"

"i'm not joking. he fucking touched you, y/n." tyler rested his hands firmly on her hips so he could pull her back from him. he held her gaze, and it as then that y/n could feel her heart get caught in her throat.

tyler looked more than ready to kill for her. she had never seen him this angry before, and if she was being honest, her body seemed to have quite the reaction. "just one." she breathed out before she could even think about the consequences of unleashing tyler on the poor, unsuspecting boy who had made the mistake of trying to hit on the wrong girl.

"sick."

she had already felt slow because of the alcohol in her system, but y/n was certain that even if she was sober, she still wouldn't have been able to process the next minute. "don't fucking touch girls without their consent, asshole!" tyler's voice rang throughout the house, so loud that it could be heard over the blaring music. the next sound that followed was a loud smack as tyler's fist collided with the boy's jaw and laid him out flat on the floor. before she knew it, tyler was already dragging her out of the house while people around them were whispering: "do we call an ambulance?" "he's out cold..." "man, it's a good thing i didn't shoot my shot with her. i would have been in that position." "he's sorta hot for doing that, isn't he?" "that's tyler? no wonder why he's popular with the ladies."

"let's get you home, baby." tyler muttered into the air as he walked down the street to where his car was parked, his hand still tightly holding hers as he practically dragged her along with him.

"wait, slow down." she begged.

he grunted out in frustration, turning on his heel and sweeping the girl off of her feet. tyler carried her bridal style the rest of the way to his car. "i'm fucking pissed. little boy thinks he can touch up on my girl? god, i'm sorry for leaving you alone, baby. never again, i promise." he angrily huffed as he set her down on her feet once they reached his car.

"you're sorta hot when you're angry." she admitted softly as tyler unlocked his car. he was about to open the passenger side door for y/n when she suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck to stop him. she stared up at him, her eyes wide and her lips pulled into a soft smile. “it’s like i have scary dog privileges.” she giggled, crinkles forming by her eyes as her smile grew wider.

his hands were quick to find her waist, feeling his breath get caught in his throat as the moonlight hit her just right to give her a slight sparkle in her eyes. and suddenly, his anger had faded away just as quickly as it arose, replaced with the need to have her in that moment. “we’re not in a rush to go home, right?” he asked softly. he tapped his finger against her side, a sign for her to hop up and wrap her legs around his waist. he hooked his arms under her knees to support her once she did so, and he pinned her to the side of his car.

a blush rose to her cheeks, craning her head to the side as tyler’s lips pressed against the side of her neck. “you know the rules. as long as you get me back before my parents wake up.” she whispered into the air, her eyes fluttering shut as he suckled against her skin.

“that’s more than enough time.” he mumbled against her as he pulled away from her neck so that he could crash his lips against hers.

i want you to know, i love you the most i'll always be there right by your side ‘cause baby, you’re always in my mind just give me your forever (give me your forever)

[y/n] IM SORRY??

[tyler] i accept your apology

[y/n] ugh, weirdo

[tyler] helping with your nerves, mamas?

[y/n] a little

[y/n] do you remember when you first called me mamas

[tyler] of course

[tyler] on your 18th birthday

[tyler] and i got to fuck you raw for the first time because we were both like "AH FUCK IT WE'RE 18, IF WE HAVE A BABY THEN OH WELLL"

[tyler] but then we bought the plan b beforehand just to make sure we wouldn't make a baby

[tyler] s tier sex by the way

[y/n] IT WAS AFTER THAT

[tyler] no, i called you mamas while fucking you

[tyler] and you nearly came from me just calling you mamas even though i just put it in

[y/n] i do not recall

[y/n] this is fake news

[tyler] ok if we're talking nonsexual

[tyler] then yes it was after

[tyler] after you came back to your senses once i filled you to the brim

[y/n] HONEY I CANNOT BE HORNY RIGHT NOW

[y/n] ARENT YOU SITTING NEXT TO MY PARENTS?

[tyler] they're about to find out that i've been fucking their daughter for years and raw dogging her too.

[tyler] also, i'm already sporting a semi out here

[tyler] thinking about how shy you got after i called you mamas when you came down from your high

[tyler] how giggly you got

[tyler] so happy and fucked out

[tyler] never stopped calling you mamas after that, and no matter how many times i call you mamas, you still have the same reaction

[tyler] you're blushing and smiling right now, aren't you?

[y/n] SHUT UP

[tyler] if i remember correctly, i think i told you "you feel amazing, mamas.” the very first time i called you mamas

[tyler] but then after i got you cleaned up and dressed, i told you “i love you, mamas” and you literally melted in my arms it was so cute

[y/n] you remember all this but god forbid you remember where you parked your car in a packed parking garage

[tyler] that's not important

[tyler] i worship you

[tyler] i commit everything that is about you or involves you to my memory

[y/n] there aren't enough words in the universe to explain how much i love you

[tyler] just give me your forever. that’ll be enough.

[tyler] i love you mamas

[y/n] i love you too, honey

[y/n] i can’t wait to spend forever with you

i want you to know that you’ll be the one and i’ll be the guy who’ll be on his knees to say i love you and i need you and say i’d die for you (just give me your forever)

he was kneeling between her spread legs, one of his hands rested on her hip and the other wrapped around his length as he pumped himself slowly. their chests rose and fell in time as breathy sighs filled the room. tyler lined himself up with her entrance, keeping his gaze locked with hers as he spread her arousal over his tip. he pushed in slightly, just so that his tip was nestled in her warmth. the slight intrusion making y/n’s eyebrows furrow together.

he leaned over her body, his hands reaching for hers so he could lace their fingers together as he kept her hands pinned to the pillow besides her head. he held her gaze as he pressed his hips flush against hers slowly, his jaw dropping open at the feeling of her walls clinging around him without a thin layer of latex separating them. once he bottomed out, he stayed there for a moment, his eyes threatening to shut as he felt her walls pulse around his length.

“you feel amazing, mamas.” he whispered, the new pet name falling from his lips so effortlessly. and suddenly, y/n was bucking her hips up against his and squeezing his hands tightly, her mouth dropping with a drawled out whine that tyler knew all too well. he grunted, feeling the familiar feeling of her walls convulsing around him, but the experience had been heightened with the lack of protection separating them. “fuck, you like that, don’t you? you like being called mamas.” he mumbled, pressing a quick gentle kiss to her cheek. tyler pulled out until just his tip was left in her before snapping his hips back into hers.

“feels so good, daddy. give me more.” she moaned out softly, her legs wrapping around his waist as if to pull him in deeper into her.

tyler repeatedly thrusted himself into her, picking up speed as he felt her legs begin to quiver at his sides. he glanced down between their bodies, catching a glimpse of the slick wetness that coated his length whenever he’d pull out of her. his gaze snapped back up to hers as he felt her legs squeeze at his sides in warning. “already close, mamas? daddy’s just getting started.” he grunted over her breathy moans, adjusting his position slightly so he could directly hit her g-spot. when a particularly load moan was pulled from her throat, tyler covered her mouth with his own to swallow her moans.

she knew that fucking without a condom would feel different, but she didn’t expect it to feel like this. y/n could feel the drag of his length inside of her with every thrust, and she struggled to kiss him back. instead, she was focused on the way she could actually feel his length pulsing inside her, and the way the head of his cock kissed her cervix with every thrust.

it wasn’t long before she was shaking her him, her hands squeezing his hands tightly as she moaned loudly against his mouth. her walls clenched down on his length tightly, and the feeling was so intense that tyler had moaned against her mouth. he pulled away from her mouth, focusing on chasing his own high as he let go of one of her hands to guide her to rest her legs up on his shoulders. tyler folded her in half with his body weight, his hand finding hers again as he jackhammered into her.

“you’re such a good bitch for daddy. cumming all over my fucking cock. fuck, i’m so close.” he gasped out, his hands squeezing hers tightly as the familiar knot in his stomach began to tighten. “beg for me, mamas. beg for daddy to fill you up.”

“please daddy. please cum in me. i can’t take it anymore, it’s too much. i just want your cum in me. please daddy.” y/n cried out as she begged for tyler, her back arching off the mattress as he continuously rammed himself into her. tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as her body continued to shake under him with every thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body. “breed me, daddy.”

with a few more thrusts, tyler was burying his face in the crook of her neck, spilling his seed into her with a whimper as his hips sporadically continued to buck into her with each rope of cum that painted her walls.

eventually, he stilled and the two of them were left breathing heavily in time as he fell limp against her body, letting go of her hands so he could hook his arms under her body and wrap them completely around her mid-section.

she wasn’t given a moment to catch her breath before tyler was already pulling out of her and flipping her around. “face down, ass up, mamas. you didn’t think i was just gonna fill you once and be done, did you?” he asked from behind her, helping her lift her hips up and get on her knees. his hand trailed along her spine, watching the way she instinctively arched her back and pushed her hips back against him. “you asked daddy to breed you, so that’s exactly what daddy’s going to do.”

“i feel it dripping.” she whined out in complaint, biting down on her bottom lip to bite back a scream as tyler’s hand came down roughly on her ass.

“don’t worry, mamas. i’ll fuck it back into you.” he grunted, reaching for her hands and pinning them behind her back. tyler watched as his cum continued to drip out of her and onto the mattress, the sight instantly making his head foggy with lust. he rubbed his fingers over her clit, watching as the girl’s pulled away from him from overstimulation. he laughed as he pressed his other hand on the small of her back to keep her in place as he continued to rub circles over her clit, collecting more of his dripping cum on to his fingers.

“oh god.” she cried out as tyler pushed two of his fingers into her, curling them right up into her g-spot.

tyler thrusted his fingers in and out of her, his other hand smacking her ass roughly as she tried to crawl further up along the bed away from him. “god’s not here.” he grunted, grabbing at her thigh to keep her from crawling away from him as he scissored his fingers inside of her and making her cry out in pleasure. “cry all you want, bitch. he can’t save you now.” he huffed as he pushed his cum deeper into her, eventually pulling his fingers out of her and lining his cock with her entrance before ramming himself into her once again.

she didn’t know how many times she came that night, or how many times tyler had filled her up. all she knew was that this is the closest to ascending to the heavens that she’d feel in this lifetime. her whole body felt light and tingly, and a fuzzy feeling fogged up her head in the best way possible. a light smile was permanently etched on her face and tyler would tell her that she’d have the most beautiful after-sex glow that he’s seen on her.

he dressed her up after he cleaned her with a towel and gave her the plan b to take. afterwards, tyler peppered kisses over her every inch of her still exposed skin, whispering praises as he did so. and when he made it back up her body and hovered over her, tyler caught her lips in a gentle kiss and kissed her languish manner.

he pulled away and laid down beside her, pulling her into his chest and pulling her blanket over their bodies before wrapping his arms around her frame. “i love you, mamas. happy birthday.” he whispered into her hair before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. tyler smiled as he felt her melt in his arms, her body falling limp against his as her arm draped across his midsection.

she lifted her head, pushing herself up to peck his lips before falling flat against him and closing her eyes. “i love you, honey.” she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming and moaning into her pillow because she couldn’t hold back her moans by the time tyler was fucking her through her third orgasm.

the next day, after tyler would pick her up just a few hours after sneaking out of her room once she had fallen asleep, he’d laugh in her face as she’d pull out her phone to read the message she typed out for him. “i lost my voice so i can’t talk.” she‘d slap his arm playfully in response, but she’d still smile as he greeted her with a kiss when he was at a stop sign away from her house.

“you should call me mamas more.” was the next message she typed out for him as they were waiting to be seated at a restaurant with her friend group that tyler didn’t know all too well.

“i wasn’t planning on stopping.” he typed back his response before sneakily handing her phone back to her so that her friends wouldn’t see the exchange between them.

as far as her friends were concerned, tyler was tagging along because he’d known y/n the longest out of them and she wanted him to be there. they didn’t mind, because tyler never seemed to talk much during these birthday breakfasts for y/n, and because of that, it made it easy for them to continue on with their antics.

they did, however, find it odd that whenever y/n wanted to speak but couldn’t because she somehow lost her voice - it was tyler who she’d have read out her typed messages.

i never knew it would be possible for you to be with me ‘cause you loved someone else back in ‘73 i was so jealous seeing you with him

[tyler] i can’t wait to put a giant rock on your finger

[tyler] so that when you go to your next 5sos concert, luke hemmings will know you’re taken

[y/n] you’re still on this ??

[y/n] it was like first year of college when i had a massive 5sos phase

[y/n] that’s already so long ago

[tyler] ok and

[tyler] every time you talked to me about how hot luke was, i thought you meant an actual dude you knew named luke that you met here in college that i just didn’t know about.

[y/n] i literally told you it was 5sos luke

[tyler] no you didn’t

[y/n] YES I DID

[y/n] i do think it’s funny that

[y/n] you snapped at me while pacing in a parking lot at the arena

[tyler] it is very funny, i’ll admit that

[tyler] it’s still on sight if i see him too, btw. you better hope i don’t see him when i’m out in la

[y/n] honey

[y/n] i only need you

[tyler] that’s right, mamas

[tyler] you only need me.

oh, baby, i know that i can treat you better back in those nights oh, you wouldn’t cry from his stupid lies oh, baby, i was there watching wishing you to be mine

“luke this. luke that. who the fuck is luke?” tyler finally snapped as he ran his fingers through his hair, frustration laced in his voice as he paced back and forth outside of the arena where all of the aew talent’s rental cars were parked. he was dressed in only a pair of sweats, having been previously getting warmed up and pumped up for his appearance tonight when y/n suddenly called him and he excused himself to answer her.

he’d always answer her. unless he was working, then tyler would simply call her back as soon as he could. even though her calls would range from “serious” reasons to call him (such as, what he’d like for a holiday gift, when he was coming home and if he needed a ride, letting him know she was flying out for a show etc.) to simply telling him about her day or complaining about something that troubled her or just random thoughts she wanted to tell him, tyler would always answer.

between training to wrestle and shadowing his dad and following him on the road with aew, tyler wasn’t home often and he suddenly went from seeing y/n everyday to seeing her once or twice a week. this was the main reason why tyler would always make it a point to answer her calls.

however, for the past week, tyler has been hearing nothing else besides stuff about this luke person and “how hot he sounds” and “ugh i miss when he had his lip piercing.”

he wouldn’t ever think y/n was cheating on him. after all, she was speaking so openly about this luke person that tyler knew that it couldn’t have been someone she was seeing behind his back. but for the life of him, tyler couldn’t remember who the fuck luke was in her friend circle and he thought he knew all of their names.

when the line fell silent on the other end, tyler let out a huff, “hello? love, you still there?”

it was then that he heard her chuckle on the other end of the phone, and she asked him, “woah there angry man. you don’t remember?”

she knew tyler would only ever call her “love” if he was irritated. it was his way of letting her know that although he was most definitely irritated, he still loves her and that she shouldn’t question his feelings for her during their argument.

“clearly i don’t, and for the past week you won’t fucking shut up about this luke guy. do i need to remind you that the only man you need in your life is me?” tyler paused for a moment, even taking a second to stop in his tracks as he ran his own words over in his head. “well, and the other men in your family… and your close friends… but that’s besides the point.” he grunted before continuing to pace back and forth, his hand repeatedly smoothing and ruffling his hair out of habit.

“honey, what do i want for christmas?” she asked him, trying to help him jog his memory.

“ugh. those concert tickets for that one band you’ve liked since middle school.” he answered quickly, reminding himself to make sure he got the time off for when the concert date rolled around so he could tag along with her.

“smart boy. now, what’s the band called?” she asked again, and tyler could practically hear the wide smile that adorned her face.

“fuck if i remember. something with time and a season.” he grunted, stopping in his tracks and pinching the bridge of his nose. tyler squeezed his eyes shut as if it’d assist him in thinking harder.

“5 seconds of summer.” she answered for him with a hum, “i’m going to assume you don’t remember the names of the members even though i’ve pointed at them individually and told you there names and forced you to listen to all their songs with me.”

“why the fuck would i remember shit like that? i remember stuff about you like how these 5 seconds of summer guys are your favorite band. that doesn’t mean i have to remember who they are.” tyler groaned out, feeling his irritation start to bubble over. “where are you even going with this?”

“luke’s the lead singer. remember? the blonde one with the hair like you but he actually knows what a comb is.”

tyler fell silent at her words, and he felt his irritation shift into something else unrecognizable that made his entire body run cold. he opened his eyes and let his hand drop from his nose as he resumed his pacing. “i know what a fucking comb is, mamas.” he grunted, and it was then that y/n blessed his ears with a whole-hearted laugh that had tyler grinning.

y/n apologized softly, “sorry for talking your ear off about him, honey. they released a new-”

“released a new album and you’re very excited about it and judging by how much you’ve been talking about him, you’ve probably gone on your little fangirl spree and watched a bunch of videos, yeah i know.” he finished for her, and he heard her gasp out a soft “ok, maybe you know me a little too well” that had him chuckling. “sorry about getting all snappy with you, mamas. i thought you were talking about some dude you met.”

“what was the thing you said earlier? the only man i need is you?” y/n asked, although she already knew the answer.

“yeah.” he answered.

“you’re right, honey. when it comes to my partner for life, the only man that i need is you. i love you. i’m sorry if i made you feel insecure.” y/n’s tone changed. her voice grew soft as if to let tyler know that she truly was sorry for making tyler feel irritated and potentially insecure with her rambling about another man to him without clarifying that the man she was talking about was simply a celebrity.

“i love you, mamas. and for the record, i’m not insecure. i’m sure i can take that luke guy on anyway. i beat people up for a living.” tyler defended himself as he made his way back inside the arena.

her laugh coming through the speakers was enough for a wide dimpled smile to stretch across his face.

i want you to know, i love you the most i’ll always be there right by your side ‘cause baby, you’re always in my mind just give me your forever (give me your forever)

[y/n] the period at the end of the sentence scares me

[y/n] in like a

[y/n] “i can hear you say it in my head all possessively and i’d really like to kiss you right now” way

[tyler] good

[tyler] i’d love that

[tyler] too bad you’re about to get your diploma and i finally get to post you

[y/n] post me?

[tyler] it’s sitting in my drafts right now

[tyler] on all my social medias

[y/n] lies you only use instagram and tiktok but your tiktok is private and you’ve already posted me on there since i’m your only follower

[tyler] as i said, all my social medias

[y/n] wait i wanna see before you post

[tyler] respectfully, no.

[tyler] i can’t wait to tell the world about you

[tyler] the girls in my dms are about to have a field day

[y/n] LMAO

[y/n] you literally posting an average looking woman on your insta while you have literal models in your dms

[tyler] tf you mean average

[tyler] you’re beautiful mamas

[y/n] you tell me everyday, honey

[y/n] do yk the adam sandler speech?

[tyler] jog my memory for me

[y/n] “i’d like to give a shoutout to my fellow nominees, who will now be known as the guys who lost to adam fucking sandler”

[tyler] classic

[y/n] that’s how i’m going to feel once you post me and all the girls and guys who were tryna shoot their shot at you realize you have a girlfriend

[tyler] LMAO

[tyler] didn’t you also feel that way that one time

[y/n] WHEN HAILEY WAS ALL UP ON YOU

[tyler] see, i don’t even remember her name

[y/n] i do

[y/n] her face when she realized that you weren’t lying about having a girlfriend

[y/n] and then the double take after seeing my average ass

[tyler] not average

[tyler] you’re the most stunning woman in the world

[tyler] that’s why she did a double take

[y/n] ok yeah let’s ignore her snobby ass “you’re dating her” with the disgusting tone when she referred to me

[tyler] she can’t see properly with all the cum in her eyes from all the dudes she blows just to feel wanted

[y/n] TYLER

[tyler] what

[y/n] you’re so mean

[tyler] you love it when i’m mean

[y/n] yeah to ME in BED not to OTHER PEOPLE

[tyler] damn

[tyler] that sucks

[tyler] i hate humans

i want you to know that you’ll be the one and i’ll be the guy who’ll be on his knees to say i love you and i need you and say i’d die for you (just give me your forever)

senior ditch day happened to fall on the week before graduation. their class had decided to all go to a beach that was about an hour out from town. y/n and tyler had planned to hang out with their respective friend groups, but made it a plan to come back to the beach during the summer for their own date - preferably when their entire senior class wasn’t there.

their groups ended up next to each others on the beach, which tyler and y/n clearly didn’t mind because they could admire each other from afar. while tyler’s large friend group set up the large canopy they brought as well as laying out various towels and setting up tables, y/n’s small friend group was putting together their cozy beach pop-up tent complete with fairy lights and multiple towels for them to lay on.

later on, while her friends were all off towards the ocean, y/n had stayed behind to watch their stuff and just lay on her beach towel and rest. tyler’s friends all seemed to have the same idea, all of them already running off to the water with various water guns and other toys. y/n had let them know that she could watch their stuff for them and they were all game.

it had only been about 5 minutes since everyone left when tyler would return - still damp and covered in sand from having jumped into the ocean. “hey pretty lady, this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing to the spot beside y/n as she pushed herself up on her forearms slightly.

she smiled, laying back down and patting the spot beside her for tyler to join her. “it isn’t, but i’ll have you know: my boyfriend kills people.” she warned.

tyler laughed, laying down beside her and scooting in further so that he’d be under the shade. he lifted her head, sliding his arm under her head before setting it back down. “damn really?” he asked, watching her nod her head.

“why aren’t you out with your friends? i offered to watch your guys’ stuff, you know.” she said, turning her head towards tyler to find the man already looking at her.

“hailey got annoying.” he admitted with a sigh. “she ‘slipped’ and ‘lost her footing’ or whatever and fell on me and we both fell to the ground. which, you know, would have been fine if it was actually an accident, but when i tried to get up, she was practically trying to push me down and then i noticed she was trying to kiss me. so, i pushed her off, said i had a girlfriend and came back here.” tyler grunted.

y/n had known of her, but she had yet to put a face to the name. with hailey’s advances towards tyler, she had heard a lot about the girl. “which one is she?” she asked as she looked out at the area where hers and tyler’s friends mingled.

“uh.” tyler followed her gaze. “the one that is angrily walking over right now.”

“tyler! what do you mean you have a girlfriend? i asked the boys and they all said that you don’t have one!” hailey screamed while tyler and y/n sat up. tyler sighed, feeling y/n tense up beside him. he glanced over at y/n before looking up at hailey. “do you mind? i’m trying to have a talk with tyler here.” hailey suddenly turned her attention to y/n, who seemed like she wanted to be anywhere but here.

before tyler could speak, y/n rolled her eyes and said, “whatever you want to talk to him about, you can say it in front of me.”

“what does it matter to you? it’s a private serious conversation between tyler and i. tyty, let’s go somewhere else to talk.” hailey spat, taking a step towards tyler and reaching for his hand before y/n quite literally smacked her hand away.

“it matters what you want to talk to my boyfriend about without me being there.” y/n fired back, her eyebrows furrowing in anger as she stared up at hailey.

tyler knew better than to get between a cat fight, so he simply kept his mouth shut and slung his arm over y/n’s shoulders to pull her into his side in silent support.

hailey looked between the two of them, switching between staring at y/n’s fiery gaze to where tyler wasn’t even meeting her eyes because he had buried his face into the side of y/n’s neck to hide his amusement. “you’re dating her?” she gasped out, something like disgust dripping down her chin as she addressed y/n. “tyler are you blind? she’s a fucking nerd who doesn’t even know the first difference between lip oil and lip tint. tyler, you’re far too good looking to be with someone like her!”

y/n looked over hailey, acknowledging that the girl was near model status and could easily make it big if she got scouted out. “it’s sad that you got so angry over finding out your crush is dating me that you had to go after my looks because you know you lose in every other category.” she sighed, offering hailey a sad apologetic smile. “look, sorry or whatever it is you want to hear from me. but tyler’s been my boyfriend since the eighth grade and i don’t have any plans on breaking up with him at all. what about you, honey?” she suddenly asked tyler.

he shook his head, pulling his face away from her neck so he could smile at her. “hell no, the fuck? i’d be a fucking idiot to let the most stunning girl in the world go.” he hummed, knowing that it’d piss off hailey more.

y/n rested her head on tyler’s shoulder, watching as hailey seemed to lull over her thoughts in her own head. “fine. what can i do then to prove that i’m better than her?” hailey asked, seemingly determined to get with tyler.

“nothing.” tyler answered quickly. “there’s no one better than y/n for me. but i know people have their opinions and that’s why no one knows yet that it’s her i’m dating. she doesn’t deserve this shit that you’re giving her right now just because you think she doesn’t fit me based off of looks alone. although, i do suppose it‘s a good way of weeding out the fake bitches that i call my ‘friends’.” he paused once he saw a flicker of guilt seem to wash over hailey, before it was quickly replaced by the anger that was once there. “look, hailey, if you truly are my friend then you’d walk away right now and leave us be. i’m happy with y/n and in every universe, even if i were to meet someone first or if there was someone else in the picture, i know that i’d choose y/n every time.”

hailey looked between the two of them again, and this time it was y/n who had her face buried in tyler’s neck to hide the blush that had crept up on her face. “whatever.” she huffed, rolling her eyes and flipping off tyler. “your fucking loss. i hope the two of you last for another two weeks.” she swore before she stormed off, heading back towards the group so that she could get her mind off of being so wholeheartedly rejected by tyler.

“you know that one adam sandler speech?” y/n broke the silence that fell over them once hailey left. she pulled her face away from tyler’s neck, cupping his cheek and turning his head so that he could look at her.

“which one?” tyler asked, leaning in so that he could peck her lips quickly.

“the one after he won that award” she answered, smiling as tyler repeatedly pecked her lips.

“oh yeah, you show it to me all the time.” he hummed, his arm dropping to wrap around her waist as he hauled her into his lap.

“that’s how i feel right now, knowing that you’d choose me even though you have drop dead gorgeous girls willing to take my spot.” she admitted, straddling him and wrapping her arms around his neck as his free hand cupped her breast over the fabric of the bikini she wore.

“they’re pretty and all, but they’re nothing compared to you, mamas.” he whispered. “you look so fucking good in this bikini. the guys won’t stop staring over at you whenever you walk by. they keep asking me why i’m gatekeeping my ‘hot nerd friend’ and all of your other hot nerd friends when they ask me to introduce them to you guys and i say no.” he mumbled before pressing his lips against hers and kneading her breast to make her gasp against his lips. he glided his tongue across hers, swallowing her soft moans as he let his hand reach under her bikini top.

she giggled, pulling away from his lips and opening her eyes to look at him. “we’re in public, honey.” she scolded him, watching a pout form on his lips as his hand dropped from her breast to circle both of his arms around her waist. he dipped his head, pressing a kiss between her breasts and pulling his head away after. “also, i don’t get it. the girls in your group are way prettier.”

tyler shook his head. “different aesthetics. the girls in my group are your average mainstream hot girls in those teen movies.” he muttered. “but you? hot sexy nerdy girl with an ass and tits that’s finally being shown off because all you usually wear are sweats and a baggy ass hoodie. you’ve just got a different aesthetic. the guys and i have a type, and we all agree that hot nerdy girls are the best.” he mumbled, leaning up to kiss her cheek. “too bad i’ve got the baddest bitch of them all, though. isn’t that right, mamas?”

she leaned down to peck his lips before shuffling off of his lap and standing up. “all yours, daddy.” she muttered just loud enough for tyler to hear. the cocky dimpled grin that tugged at his lips had let her know that he did hear it. y/n held her hand out for him to take, helping him stand up before letting their hands drop. “i’m not driving and my friends don’t drink. think you can pour me a shot before everyone comes back?”

tyler laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her in for another kiss while his hand fell down further to grab her ass. “anything for you, mamas. want me to mix you something up, too? i just learned how to make a lychee drink just for you since i know you love lychee.”

do you remember? i was on the aisle waiting for you, babe

[y/n] oh shit they’re gonna hand out the diplomas

[y/n] fucking finally

[y/n] 4 years and thousands of dollars to walk across a stage, get a piece of paper and shake some hands!!!

[tyler] i’ll make sure to scream so loud i lose my voice tomorrow

[y/n] don’t you have work

[tyler] mamas

[tyler] i don’t even talk for tv most of the time

[y/n] true

[tyler] thank god you’re near the beginning, i ain’t sitting through all these other fuckers

[tyler] i just want to kiss you already

[tyler] my pretty mamas

[tyler] OH YOU’RE LINING UP

[tyler] I SEE YOUR SHORT ASS BETWEEN THE TWO REALLY TALL DUDES

[y/n] SHUT UP

[y/n] putting my phone away now!

[y/n] take lots of pictures and videos for me

[y/n] thank you for being my number one supporter

[y/n] i love you so much, tyler

[tyler] i love you the most, y/n

[tyler] and for the record

[tyler] i’m your number one supporter for more reasons than just being your boyfriend

[tyler] if it wasn’t for you

[tyler] god knows where i’d be right now

[tyler] thank you for supporting me even though i’m a college dropout who’s trying to make it big in wrestling

[tyler] congratulations, my forever lover

[tyler] i’ll see you soon

saw you in your gown i was crying all my tears i told myself that you are the one (you are the one)

tyler didn’t know why he suddenly felt emotional, but seeing her hug her parents with her diploma grasped tightly in her hands while she still had her cap, gown, and stole on was doing something to him. he wiped away a tear that had suddenly fell from his eyes and shifted awkwardly on his feet as he waited for her to greet him.

“are you crying, tyler?” she asked as soon as she let go of her parents and turned her attention to tyler.

“just a little.” he admitted with a laugh, spreading his arms out wide for her as she jumped into his arms. he wrapped his arms around her midsection as she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. he spun her in a circle, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “i’m so fucking proud of you, mamas. congratulations.” he mumbled into her neck before setting her back down on her feet gently.

“thank you, honey.” she whispered, unwrapping her arms from around his neck and taking a step back from him. she turned to face her parents who were already looking at them questioning what they just saw. “mom, dad. do you want to take photos? my boyfriend can take them for us.”

before she could give them time to react, y/n was already shoving her phone into tyler’s hands and taking her spot back between her parents. she threw her arms over their shoulders and pulled them closer to her, smiling widely with a loud “cheese” while her parents simply stared at her and screamed “boyfriend?”

the flash of her phone camera caught their attention, and soon they were all smiling and going through a variety of different poses while tyler took their picture.

“how long have you and tyler been dating? i thought he is just your best friend?” her dad asked beside her while they posed.

“since eighth grade.” y/n answered sheepishly.

her parents echoed her words loudly, both of their heads snapping to look towards her while tyler held back a laugh as he captured the moment.

“i got my degree in the end, didn’t i? he wasn’t a distraction at all.” y/n pointed out, reminding her parents of the rule they set. she grinned widely as tyler continued counting down “3, 2, 1” as if it were a mantra between each photo he took.

a moment of silence fell over them that left y/n feeling uneasy while her parents seemed to think over her words. it was her mom that’d cut through the silence. “she’s right, darling. we can’t say anything now. our baby’s all grown up, has her degree, and now we don’t have to worry about taking care of her anymore, she has her own man.” her mom laughed, hooking her arm with y/n’s and resting her head on her shoulder.

y/n’s dad sighed in defeat, standing behind them and wrapping his arms around the both of them. he rested his head on top of theirs and said, “at least it’s tyler. the kid isn’t too bad, and he’s already making money and doing his own thing. you just come to me if he starts any trouble.”

y/n giggled, turning around in her parents arms after tyler snapped the photo so that she could hug them. it certainly went better than she pictured, as she expected her parents to put up a little more of a fight rather than give up so easily. she felt them hug her back and she sighed in relief. “i’m going to be honest. i thought you guys would kill me for keeping him from you for so long.”

“if you told us this at your high school graduation, then we would have definitely sent you far away for college even if you didn’t want to go.” her dad admitted with a laugh. “but your mother’s right. we don’t have a say in who you date now. the rule was that you couldn’t date until you got your degree from college because you’d get distracted and fail school. but you managed to graduate all while having a boyfriend and proved us wrong, so who are we to suddenly break you two apart?” he continued, pulling away from the hug and taking his wife’s hand in his.

her mom looked over at tyler who had stopped taking photos to pull off the hoodie he wore and was in the process of shoving the hoodie into his backpack he always had. she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand and nudging her husband with her elbow. “darling, look at tyler.”

y/n and her dad both looked at tyler’s direction just as he slung his backpack back over his shoulders, a wide smile on his face as he proudly wore his “i love my girlfriend” shirt with a photo of y/n on the front. “honey, what is that?” y/n screamed, her face burning red with embarrassment.

“my new favorite shirt.” he answered without missing a beat. he took a step forward, holding out y/n’s phone for her dad to take and his own phone for her mom to take. “can you take our photos, please?” he asked, already reaching for the signs of y/n’s heads so that they could pose with them. he thrusted one of the signs into y/n’s hands before wrapping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her to step back with him.

y/n’s mom happily got into the rhythm of taking photos for the two as they posed, clearly having been silently hoping for years that tyler wasn’t just her daughter’s “best friend”. mother knows best, after all, and y/n’s mom wasn’t a stranger to the way tyler has been treating her daughter. she’ll admit she did find it odd when her daughter was in middle school that tyler would always be with her when she came to pick her up, and had once caught a whiff of weed in the air that she knew just had to come from the strange boy. but as tyler seemed to become a permanent fixture in y/n’s friends that she’d hang out with in high school, she chose not to bring it up again simply because she knew her daughter was still at the top of her class. she also chose not to make it known that she had once peeked out the window when she knew tyler was dropping y/n home after asking to take her out with him for his birthday dinner and just so happened to see them kiss in his car.

y/n’s dad on the other hand hesitated for a moment, simply taking the time to observe the way the two interacted. he had never wanted to assume anything was going on between them in the years he had known tyler, and y/n was still excelling in her academics in a way that he thought she wouldn’t be able to if she had a boyfriend. clearly, he was wrong. and as he watched tyler carefully handle her as they posed for each photo, he knew he didn’t need to worry. after all, if y/n’s been dating him since eighth grade, he was sure he didn’t have too much to worry about. he taught y/n to never settle for less, after all. “let’s get a photo of you two kissing so i can post it on facebook and give everyone in the family a heart attack.” he called out as he stood beside his wife, pulling up y/n’s phone to snap a photo as the younger couple stared at each other with red faces.

y/n’s mom cheered loudly as tyler and y/n kissed for the photo, tyler’s arm circling around her waist and dipping her as y/n’s hand came up to cup his cheek.

i want you to know, i love you the most i’ll always be there right by your side ‘cause baby, you’re always in my mind just give me your forever (give me your forever)

“straight to my house, tyler. no funny business. do i make myself clear?” y/n’s dad asked, his hand still firmly gripping tyler’s hand. although tyler was taller than him, tyler couldn’t help but feel as though he were six feet shorter just from the way he knew that if he fucked up now, the older man would certainly have his head on a stick… literally.

“yes, sir. no funny business.” tyler reassured him, ignoring the giggles from the two women that were standing behind him.

the four of them were all in the parking garage, already ready to head home so that they could continue the celebration with family that was already waiting at y/n’s house. y/n had asked if she could have tyler drive her to their house, and after a little hesitation, her dad agreed.

y/n was already showing her mom all the photos she and tyler had taken together throughout the years, and her mom wouldn’t stop gushing over the fact that her daughter had such a handsome boyfriend who was making a name for himself in the wrestling business. tyler eventually walked over to them, his hand finding its place on y/n’s hip.

“drive safely, tyler.” y/n’s mom told him, pulling him in for a hug. “see you later, baby! don’t do anything in the car that should be saved for the bedroom.” she teased before going off to join her husband in making their way to their own car.

“fucking finally.” tyler breathed out, turning his full attention to y/n as he planted both of his hands on her hips to pull her against him. he dipped his head down as y/n’s arms came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down further and meeting him in the middle for a heated kiss. “one pair of parents down, one more to go.” he mumbled against her lips as he backed her up to press her against the side of his car.

she parted her lips, allowing tyler’s tongue to slide against hers and whimpering against him. y/n pulled away, not wanting to let themselves get too carried away. “wanna call them now?” she asked, unwrapping her arms from around his neck so that she could cup his face in her hands instead. she reached up further, running her fingers through tyler’s hair in an attempt to calm the mess, although in all the years she’s been with tyler - she already knew that was nearly impossible.

“no need. already sent them the photos while we were walking here. just waiting for them to reply.” he laughed, leaning in quickly to peck her lips once more before taking a step back. “i’ll post on my instagram tonight. i’m afraid that the longer we stand here kissing and not driving, your dad will actually kill me. i’m certain he was just being nice because there’s so many people here.” tyler said, taking a step back and letting his hands fall from her hips. he waited for her to step out before pulling the door open for her, waiting for her to slide into her seat before shutting the door and jogging around to the other side.

“let’s get you home and celebrate with your family, mamas.” he said as he slid into the drivers seat, quickly starting the car and pulling on his seatbelt.

“at least this time, when my aunts and uncles all ask me if i have a boyfriend, i get to pull you around and be like ‘here he is!’” y/n laughed as tyler leaned over the center console to give her one more kiss before pulling out of the parking spot and driving off. of course, they kissed at every red light and stop sign as they were unable to contain their excitement of being finally able to freely and openly love each other.

i want you to know that you’ll be the one and i’ll be the guy who’ll be on his knees to say i love you and i need you and say i’d die for you (just give me your forever)

tyler had retreated to y/n’s room two hours into the party. after being bombarded with loads of questions from y/n’s relatives, he needed some time for himself. but he also needed to answer his mom and dad’s facetime call, so he used that as an excuse to be up in her room.

“hey mom! hey dad!” tyler greeted as soon as he picked up the call, laying back in y/n’s bed and kicking off his shoes.

“since eighth grade?” taz asked, clearly in disbelief at the fact that tyler had managed to successfully hide his relationship from them for so long. especially since tyler had just started working with him and was on the road with taz.

“yeah. been going strong for years and years. not one break up or nothing. mom taught me how to treat my girl right.” tyler laughed, as he opened up his instagram app, already heading to his drafts so that he could add a few more photos and videos to the post he had already typed up.

“where is she? i miss y/n, i haven’t seen her in so long ever since you started working with your dad. now it makes so much sense why you’d always have her over when we haven’t even met your other friends!” tyler’s mom asked, seemingly happy that her son had a girlfriend that she had already met and thought of highly.

“i feel so dumb. she’d sometimes fly out to our shows and tyler would just be like ‘oh i just miss my best friend, you know. been around her my whole life and now i can’t walk down the street to see her.’ i can’t believe i took that ‘best friend’ story and believed it.” taz gasped out in disbelief.

“she’s downstairs with the rest of her family. i think she’s drinking with her cousins right now. i’m up in her room because her aunts and uncles have been asking me questions nonstop. some of her uncles are apparently fans of you, dad. they went real crazy over it.” tyler hummed. he switched apps to his messaging app and opened up the group chat he had with his parents. “i’m about to post her on my instagram since we can date openly now. i’ve been waiting years to show her off. do you think she’ll be mad if i post this one?” he asked them as he sent a photo of y/n in a sports bra and tyler’s ring gear, with her hands taped and everything. she even had the ftw championship slung over her shoulder, and for effect, her hair was tousled and messy. y/n was pulling off her best “mean mug” face although she was failing horribly.

his parents laughed as soon as they saw the image, and taz joked, “she makes the championship look better than you do.”

“i don’t think she’ll mind, baby. but your dad and i are going to go have dinner now. behave yourself and for the love of god, don’t have a kid. we just found out you have a girlfriend of eight years, we don’t need to be sent to the hospital because we had a heart attack over news of you getting her pregnant.” his mom said.

tyler said his goodbyes to his parents. once the call dropped, he went back to his instagram app to continue editing his post.

“honey? you in here?” y/n’s voice rang throughout the room as she peeked her head in.

“hey mamas. just about to post you. is it cool if i include this photo of you cuddled up against my chest even though there’s a big ass hickey on my collarbone?” he asked, holding up his phone for her to see although she was still in the doorway.

she felt her face heat up as she walked further into the room, shutting the door behind her and sitting at the edge of the bed. “sure, why not? let’s give your die hard fans even more reason to be angry at me.” y/n laughed.

“god, i’m so happy i get to hear that laugh forever. hold these hands forever. kiss these lips forever. love you forever.” tyler admitted softly, his gaze locked with hers as her hand came up to cup his cheek. she leaned in and tyler met her in the middle, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss and tasting the alcohol that lingered on her lips.

he grimaced once she pulled away, his tongue peeking out to swipe at his bottom lip. “what the fuck are you drinking down there? is that jd?” he asked after tasting the alcohol, pushing himself up so that he was sitting up on the bed.

“there’s henny if you want that instead. but come down soon, they’re already asking about you again.” she hummed as tyler’s arm came around her from to wrap around her waist. she leaned into his chest as he kissed her, moaning against him as his tongue wrapped around hers. y/n placed her hands firmly against his chest, pushing him slightly as she pulled away. “later, daddy. if you convince my parents to let you stay the night.”

“even if they didn’t let me, i’ll just sneak back in, mamas.”

just give me your forever

#aew hook #aew hook x reader #aew hook fanfic #aew hook imagine #aew hook fanfiction #aew x reader #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #aew imagine #aew hook smut #aew smut #hook x reader #hook fanfic #hook fanfiction #hook imagine #hook #hook aew

476 notes · View notes

keisobe · 1 year

Text

: 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 — (𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 + 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲)

— from avatar 2 : the way of the water (spoiler free!!)

contents. gn! reader, reader is a omaticayan, established relationships, angst, hurt/no comfort, emotional neglect, small kissing scenes, male red flags, the sully brothers being bad boyfriends + wc. 1.1k

notes. okay, so i write a lot of romantic + fluff drabbles of neteyam and lo’ak but i wanted to switch it up and write their red flags because guys are … guys. i realized i wrote a lot more for lo’ak, so i’m sorry about the word count difference between neteyam and lo’ak’s drabbles. enjoy reading some gut wrenching angst ♡

── ✦ 𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 always put his family first. it was always charming to see him quickly scoop tuk into the warmth of his embrace or aid his mother when her emotions got too overwhelming. the days where you both spent together, making each other beaded jewelry or stargazing always put a smile on your face. until those days were always cut short.

“sorry, dad needs me right now,” neteyam would push you out of his arms, rushing to gear himself with his woven pouch and poisoned arrows. he leaves a chaste kiss onto your cheek and hairline before he sprints into the forest.

it’s his family, it was okay.

“kiri needs my help,” your body felt cold again— watching him sit up as he adjusted his leather belt, storing his hunting knife.

no word was spoken from your lips, instead you replied with complete silence. neteyam didn’t glance away from his scattered belongings— collecting them as fast as he could.

this time there wasn’t a kiss, but only the coldness biting your bare skin— neteyam ran off once again.

okay, this wasn’t okay.

“hey, is everything all right?” his honey glazed eyes shifted from the dusky sky, now gazing at your contorted features.

though you wanted to hold back, lie to his face. the feelings became too overwhelming— you had to tell him.

“no neteyam, nothing is all right,” you sat up, gazing down at the incomplete bracelet that sat limp on your dainty wrist.

“what’s wrong?” neteyam replicated your movements— sitting up as he gently rested his hand on your shoulder.

there was a brief pause, the rustle of leaves filling the silence. neteyam was patient, watching your small movements. a sniffle came from your nose.

“it’s you,” your lips quivered as you said that. “you keep leaving me.”

neteyam shuffled in his seat a bit, a dry chuckle escaping his lungs.

“my family needs me,” he excused, shaking his head at your words. “you know that.”

he would never understand, it made you angry.

you swatted his hand off your shoulder, scooting away from the warmth of his skin— as much as you didn’t want to.

“no neteyam, it’s hard,” you turned your head away from him, tears welled up in your yellow eyes. “it’s like… like you don’t value our time.”

his lips pressed together as he avoided your gaze, thinking about what to say.

before neteyam could reply back, you stood up without ease— swiping off the tears that fell on your arms and knees.

“this time i’ll leave first,” you muttered, escorting yourself into the depths of the darkened forest.

guilt buried deep within neteyam’s gut. he had to make it right, but did he have time to get to you before—

“bro, i really need your help, like right now!” lo’ak’s desperate voice blasted through the speakers of his throat comm.

his eyes glanced back and forth between where you left in the hollow forest to the familiar direction of his home.

slowly adjusting his heavy pouch and clawed knife, neteyam takes a deep breath, turning his thick heels towards the right— back to his home.

family always came first and it’ll always be like that.

── ✦ 𝐋𝐎’𝐀𝐊 lived life on the edge. venturing out when everyone else rested for the night, weaving through the thick veins and feeling sap kissing the bottoms of his feet. there was always a surge of energy when he didn’t stick to the rules— he didn’t feel bound by his family, by the people from his clan. though his risky attempts to sneak off every night led you to be the one always by his side. you just wanted him to be safe.

“lo’ak, you’ll definitely get in trouble for this!” you warned, watching him skip across the tree bark towards an unknown, mossy area that was banned from being entered.

he briskly looked back before taking another leap, a smug smirk planted on his face.

“come on, don’t be such a wuss,” lo’ak shrugged his shoulders, voice sprinkled with utter sarcasm. the tips of your ears burned with frustration but also a tinge of fondness.

when he ran off, you followed.

“don’t hold that lo’ak!” lo’ak waved the heavy gun into the air, his finger lightly settled on the trigger.

after a successful raid, the omoticaya clan celebrated into fits of traditional cheers and clatters of new military artillery were being passed along to a more secure storage area. lo’ak happen to get his hands onto a stray gun left during the raid.

“it’s fine, my dad taught me how to use it,” lo’ak reassured, aiming the gun towards random directions. you let out a sigh, a small smile snuck onto your face.

“lo’ak!” a familiar voice shook your spine.

the olo’eyktan, jake sully, stood tall among the crowd— a scorn tucked into the wrinkles of his face.

quickly, you snatched the gun from lo’ak’s grasp, throwing it down onto the dirt floor as you knelt down. you felt jake’s presence grow near, every nerve in your body felt like needles prickling on your skin.

you picked up the gun, raising your head high to meet jake’s hard glare.

“this was a stray gun, someone probably dropped it while it was being passed,” you explained, gently handing the gun to jake.

lo’ak didn’t say a word, silently observing you deceive his father.

jake simply nodded, fishing off the gun from your grasp— walking off towards a group of fellow clan members to continue the formation.

“thanks,” lo’ak smiled, kneeling down himself to give you a tight back hug. the two you erupt into relieved laughter, a plethora of kisses adorned your face and shoulders.

when he’s in trouble, you covered for him.

“what is the meaning of this?”

neytiri and jake eyed both of you in disappointment— watching the fiddle of your fingers and the way your eyes darted with nervousness. once again, lo’ak ventured out into the forbidden parts of the forest, forcing you to accompany him. both of his parents caught you in the middle of the act, dragging you back home without a word.

“it was me,” you raised your hand, looking deeply into lo’ak’s worried eyes. “i wanted to see what was there, so i forced lo’ak to go with me. it’s all my fault.”

neytiri pouted at your explanation, glancing at jake for his insight. with a silent agreement, they both nodded their heads.

“then you’re banned from hunting for a week,” jake announced, the color in your face vanishing completely.

lo’ak flinched at his father’s words, his lips parted— but nothing came out.

though you took the blame, you wanted lo’ak to at least defend you— maybe even confess to all his rebellious behavior that put you in so many difficult situations.

neytiri walked over to you and firmly latched onto your arm, escorting you back into your tent.

you looked back to lo’ak, but he never met your eye.

when he’s silent, you took the blame for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

#✩.*˚ — ina’s works🎂#ੈ♡˳ — (atwow) 📁#— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : drabbles #— ౨ৎ ࣪ . ⊹ : hcs #* ੈ♡˳ — (neteyam sully) 🎞️#* ੈ♡˳ — (lo’ak sully) 🎞️#neteyam sully #neteyam #lo’ak sully #lo’ak #neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak sully x reader #neteyam sully x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar fanfiction #avatar headcanons #avatar 2

2K notes · View notes

cmncisspnandmore · 4 months

Text

One Night Stand: part 4

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: None? slight angst? Maybe if you squint

Summary: Simon is away on a mission, but things are speeding up back at home.

A/N:....... Hi, sorry. I'm back, i'm sos sorry for the long break between parts. I'm also sorry this is a short part, i started writing it before i went on a break, and i finished it today and its kinda a flop. But i promise to do better on the next part. asdfghjkl, please stick with me, I promise i'll do better.

Word Count: 2.909

New to the series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

It had been almost a week since you heard from Simon. He has sent you a brief text the morning he left. It was vague, didn't give you any details about where he was going, or how long he would be gone. He had promised to contact you as soon as he could. You find yourself staring down at your phone, hoping that maybe if you stared at it long enough he would text you. But it never came.

Your knee shakes as you sit in the doctor’s office, the nurses coming out periodically to get someone from the waiting room. Your appointment was in 5 minutes, but you had been sitting there for the last 20 minutes. Nervous was an understatement, if you could describe how you felt out loud people would think you were insane. You felt like your lungs were vibrating in your chest, every organ moving at the fast pace of your heartbeat.

The nurse calls out your name as you stand on shaky legs. The world is out of focus as you walk towards her. She smiles, and leads you back to her ultrasound room, her voice muffled by the pounding in your ears. A hand touches your shoulder and it takes you a moment to realize that she was talking to you.

“This is your first?” She asks, sitting in the chair next to the bed, pulling her stool up to the computer.

“Oh.. yeah..” You lay back on the bed, and look over at her. She was wearing a pair of cartoon character scrubs. Her hair pulled up into a french twist, as she typed on the keyboard.

“Okay, well lay back, and roll down the top of your jeans, and pull up your shirt as we’ll see if we can get a good look at that baby of yours. Do we need to wait for dad?” She asks, as you lay back against the paper. It crinkles as you roll down the tops of your jeans, your body shifting as you adjust.

“Oh, no… he’s away,” heat rushes to your cheeks, red hot embarrassment coursing through your veins.

“Oh no problem lovely, we’ll make sure to get extra pictures and you can even record the heartbeat for him. How does that sound?” She asks as she picks up the wand and rolls closer to you.

“That would be lovely,”

“This will be a little cold,” she says as she squirts some of the ultrasound gel onto your stomach. The contact makes goosebumps break out along your skin, you watch the screen across from the bed. The grainy black and white picture moving around as she adjusts the wand. After a few moments a small white, baby-like blob takes over the screen.

“There they are! Look at them,” she smiles as she spends time taking measurements, and telling you what you were seeing on the screen. She takes some pictures while shes doing it, before she smiles at you.

“Okay, ready to record the heartbeat?” she asks, and presses a few keys on the keyboard.

You take your phone out and record the screen, the baby’s heart fluttering on the screen. After a moment the sound of fast paced wooshing fills the room, your eyes fill with tears. It was real, you knew about the baby obviously, but hearing the heartbeat made it real. There was a tiny person growing inside you. A part of you and Simon. You stop the recording as you wipe your eyes with one hand. The Ultrasound tech smiles and hands you a tissue, before she hands you another. “Here Love,” she smiles, “wipe that off and then I’ll be right back with your pictures to take home.”

You wipe the gel off your stomach, swinging your legs over the side as you wait. You open up the text thread between you and Simon. Your fingers tap the screen as you forward him the recording of the heartbeat.

Y/n: I know you couldn’t be here because of work, but I heard the heartbeat today. It was beautiful, they’re developing right on track. *heartbeat*

The nurse comes in and hands you two long strips of ultrasound pictures, you smile down at them. In one picture the baby’s hand is up in the air and it looks as if they’re waving. She added a little caption that says “hi Daddy!” On it and you can’t help the pang of guilt that settles in your gut.

This was Simon’s first child too. He should be able to experience everything with you. But you knew he couldn’t just abandon his post. He was needed, that much was clear, you couldn't ask him to give it up. You wouldn’t.

As you walk out of the doctors office towards the bus station, you can’t stop looking down at the roll of pictures in your hands. As the bus pulls up to the sidewalk you climb on and take an empty seat. You study the white baby-like outline as the bus pulls away from the curb, you wonder who they would look like.

Would they have Simon's light blonde hair?

Maybe his dark brown eyes?

Or would they look like you?

Maybe they would be a perfect blend of you both, with your eyes and Simon’s nose. Whoever they looked like, they would be loved. Your heart swells as you look down at the pictures, your fingered tracing outlines. They were only the size of a lemon, which was crazy to you. 13 weeks ago they didn't even exist, they were nothing. Just two cells that had yet to meet, and now they were the size of a lemon. They could move around although you couldn’t feel it yet, some babies even suck their thumb.

Your thoughts drift back to Simon… Did he know that the baby was the size of a lemon? That it could now suck its thumb and move around?

Sighing you pull out your phone and text the video of the baby's heartbeat to him, along with a picture of the sonograms. You watch as the blue text bubble sends and the word delivered appears under it. You stare at the screen, wishing that it would change to read, but it doesn’t. Your eyes burn from not blinking, as the bus pulls up to the stop by your neighborhood. You quickly tuck your phone away and step off. The brakes of the bus squeal as it pulls away, leaving you standing on the side of the road alone.

The walk back to your apartment isn’t long, it only takes 5 minutes at most. But today it felt like the longest walk of your life. You couldn't shake the feeling that pooled in your stomach when the tech looked at you, the pity in her eyes when she found out Simon wasn't there. It had done nothing but remind you that you would probably be doing most of this alone. That there was a chance Simon would miss the birth of his child due to having to be on a mission.

You haven't given it too much thought, because that seemed so far away from the present. But in reality you were already in your second trimester, and time was going to go by a lot faster than you thought it would. Your relationship with Simon was still in its infancy, you barely knew anything about one another. Sure there was the undeniable attraction between you two, the magnetic pull that caused this whole situation in the first place.

You climb the 3 flights of stairs to your apartment, your boots thudding on each step. The neighbors below you argue loudly, the crash of things being thrown jars you from your thoughts. You really hated them sometimes. It was like their entire relationship revolved around making each other mad. If they werent fighting they were stoned out of their minds, their eyes glazed over from drugs as they leant against the hoof of their beat up car. They had neer done anything to you personally but you had heard them fighting with some of the other residents. Mostly your direct neighbor to your left. She was a small old lady who would get fed up with them fighting and would call the cops on them regularly.

As you unlock the door to your apartment, the door to the left opens. The old woman steps out of her apartment with a scowl on her face as she looks at you. You pause, and clear your throat. “Can i help you Mrs. Hines?” You ask, stuffing the sonogram into your pocket.

“Those blasted drug addicts, at it again i tell ya! Throwing things, arguing all hours of the day. Outta teach them a lesson,” she mumbles as he heads towards the stairs. Her cane tapped on the floor as she headed down to the floor below. You wait until her white hair is out of sight on the staircase before you push open your apartment door. The apartment is exactly how you left it, your eyes flickering to the couch. Air rushes past your lips as you find it empty, your laptop sitting in the middle just as you left it.

You settle into your apartment, and hang the sonogram pictures on the fridge, a small smile on your lips. Settling back onto the couch you pick up your laptop and continue where you left off this morning with your article, the words flowing easily. Hours pass as you near the end of the article, your phone pinging on the couch next to you startles you. For a moment a flash of fear races through your body. Like a bucket of cold water was dumped on you, your heart hammers loudly in your chest. With shaking hands you reach over and grab it, tapping the screen with your thumb.

The small picture of an adorable ghost next to the name eases your anxiety that settled in your chest. You can't help the small smile that spreads over your lips as you read the messages from Simon.

Simon: Wow, I wasn't expecting them to look like an actual baby just yet. That's kind of insane.

You: I know.. Did you get a chance to listen to the heartbeat?

Simon: Yeah… Don't tell anyone but I may have teared up…

You: Your secret is safe with me.

There's no reply after that, which is expected. Honestly you were even surprised to have heard from him at all. He was out there doing god knows what, god knows where. Given that he had a few moments to reply to your text must mean that he wasn't fighting for his life at that very moment.

That thought gave you some comfort… Well kind of. Lately not a lot of things could make you feel at ease anymore. You never truly felt relaxed, not even after moving a few hundred miles away from your hometown. You still felt like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop. For it to be your turn to meet the same fate as your family. But it hasn't come yet, and that alone was enough to make every noise, every bump in the night send prickles of fear skittering across your body. Like thousands of ants running wild along the smooth plains, making you shift uncomfortably.

The apartment complex was surprisingly quiet for 8pm, normally around this time most of the residents were arguing. Mainly the couple from downstairs, but you haven't heard anything in a little while. You furrow your brows as you look out the window. Their car wasn't there, maybe they had gone out?. The parking lot was mainly empty save for a few cars that you were sure didn't run anymore. TUrning in your seat you glance down at your phone, the screen still dark.

Exhaustion pulled at you, over the last few weeks you had been having a hard time sleeping.The constant fighting from the people below you coupled with the raging hormones made sleep hard to come by. This past week is especially hard now that the small voice in the back of your head reminding you that Simon wasn't here. He wasn't just a phone call away right now. For all you know he could be on the other side of the world, and there was no established time he would be back. He very well could be gone for months.

Taking a deep breath you grab your phone and climb into your bed, pulling the blankets up over your head as you try to block out the small pang in your chest. The small part of you that missed Simon's presence. When he was around it was like someone had closed the doors to the roaring fears inside your head. They were still there, but they were muffled and you could be easily distracted from them. Allowing your body to relax for once, after being wound tight for months.

A blush creeps up your cheeks as you remember how blissfully blank Simon was able to make your mind that night. The night that led to the unplanned but not unwelcome baby that was currently growing in your uterus. Your eyes grow heavy as your mind drifts back to that night. You missed how his hands felt, skating across your skin. The warmth of his lips on yours, the way his heart pounded in his chest under your hands.

Your hand drifts down to your lower stomach, your fingers brushing the now taught skin. A small smile on your lips as you drift off to sleep with images of Simon's dark brown eyes and blonde hair dance in your mind.

~~~~

Smoke.

The first thing to cross your mind when you stir from your sleep is smoke.

The smell was suffocating as you sit up, and blink rapidly into the darkened room. Thick grey clouds billow under the door of your apartment. The loud creaking of the building settling startling you fully awake. Outside you can hear commotion in the parking lot. Quickly throwing the blankets to the side you pad over to the window. People from the lower floors of your building are filing out, waving their hands in front of their faces as they attempt to run from the building. Thick clouds of smoke follow them, as yellow and orange light flickers across their faces.

You drop to your knees as your throat starts to burn, the air in the room becoming harder and harder to breathe in. Your knees scrape along the uneven floor boards, scratching the soft skin. Pulling your shirt up over your mouth and nose you attempt to take slow even breaths, as the smoke rises to the top of the room. As you reach the door you lift your hand and place the back of it against the door. Its warm but not hot. Taking one last deep breath you reach up hand grasping the warm door knob as you turn it.

Smoke rushes into the room, stinging your eyes as you crawl forward. The hallways is hazy but you can see the stairs at the end of the hall. They look clear of any fire, and you start to crawl there. As you reach the top of the stairs a sound behind you causes you to stop. The floor by your door creaks and groans before it splinters and falls through. Flames lick up through the hole, heat dancing across your skin. It was hot. So incredibly hot. Your eyes water, as you struggle to pull air into your lungs.

Your throat burns as tears slide down your cheeks, your lungs ache as you start coughing. Your mind becomes fuzzy from lack of oxygen, as you grasp the railing of the stairs you start to feel your way down them quickly. Your feet blindly hitting steps, a few times you almost slip on the stairs. As you get down to the second floor the smoke is thicker. You can't see your own hand in front of your face. The staircase to the first floor is engulfed in flames, they lick up the stairs as they threaten to singe your clothes.

The window in the stairwell before it shatters above you front he heat, tiny shards of glass rain down on you where you crouch on the staircase. Your body is sluggish from the carbon monoxide. This was it…

The way out was blocked and you didn't have the energy to climb back up the stairs to try the back staircase. It had only been a few minutes since you left the apartment, but it felt like a lifetime. Your body ached, your skin hurt from the heat, like the worst sunburn you’ve ever gotten. Your lungs screamed like you were being held under water, each cough that forced its way from your throat felt like razor blades.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving trails through the soot and ash that covered your face. The world is slightly muffled as you put your head on the warm concrete of the stairs. The last of your energy fading as sirens scream in the distance. At least they would find your body, maybe there would be enough to identify, so someone would be able to get back to Simon about what happened.

Simon.

Your heart aches in your chest.

What if no one ever told him what happened?

Your mind starts to go fuzzy and your eyes slide closed, sweet oblivion pulling you under.

As the world fades out you feel someone's arms wrap around you, lifting you from the stairs, their deep voice vibrating in their chest. “Bloody hell, Love. Trouble just knows how to find you, yeah?”

Next Part: Part 5

214 notes · View notes

leclercdreams · 1 year

Note

Roscoe meeting your child for the first time and him being really protective

𝐃𝐨𝐠'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 ❘❘ 𝘓𝘦𝘸𝘪𝘴 𝘏𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘰𝘯

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Wife!Reader

warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy and birth.

word count: 1.05K

a/n: None of my work is proofread, English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy this anon! I absolutely adore Roscoe🤍

Life.

It was such a simple word that held so much meaning.

You and Lewis had been married for three years, before that you had been his partner for four years. You loved him, you loved his lifestyle as crazy as it seemed, and you loved Roscoe.

You were in no hurry to have children, you wanted to have kids, but you weren't actively trying. So when you had taken a test one day you were both happy about the news. You had your worries about becoming a new mother, but nothing prepared you for Lewis' worries.

It was a break for Lewis, both of you were in your bed, the baby had started kicking the week prior, but you didn't want him to know he missed it. His arms were wrapped around your middle, his head resting on your chest while rubbing up and down your bump.

Roscoe on the other side of you, his head resting on your thigh snoozing away, ever since you found out you were pregnant even before you were sure Roscoe had been glued to your side. Both your boys loved the bump.

"I'm scared."

Pulling your focus away from the pregnancy book you were reading you placed your hand on his back rubbing your hand up and down slowly.

"Scared of what, baby?"

"Of missing our baby's birth. I don't want to miss this."

Putting the book down on the other side of you, your free hand pulling his face up to you. You could see the genuine fear and concern in his eyes.

"Bubs, listen to me. You won't miss it you will be here, and if our little one is early then they'll be just like her dad who is always early."

From that night you would remind him every single day that he had nothing to worry about. You had your trusted bodyguard with you, and you were thankful that your little one had waited.

Twelve hours of labor and pain had brought your little one screaming her lungs out into the world, the sound dying down the moment she was placed on your chest. Your tears streaming down your face and sweat sticking to your forehead, and Lewis still looked at you like you created the entire world, because to him you did.

Sierra Mae Hamilton was his world and she was perfect.

When she was taken to be cleaned and checked he had turned to you giving you so much love whispering to you how much you meant to him and how much he loved you.

When it came to holding his princess his shirt was long gone sat in the chair next to your bed while having the sleeping baby close to him. His hands covered her entire body while he just watched her lovingly. His little girl. You could see the tears reflecting in his eyes with the light shining.

"I love you and your mummy so much, princess. I can't wait for Roscoe to meet you."

You were kept in the hospital for a day before being discharged with your healthy baby girl, ready to go home and get a routine. Lewis had informed your families all of them having a short few minutes of face time to see your daughter.

You had agreed that spending the first two weeks by yourself and getting used to being parents was the best for you. On your way home you sat next to your daughter's car seat who was snoozing with her little elephant stuffy Toto had given to Lewis on the last race of the season.

"Do you think Roscoe will be okay with her?"

"He'll be fine, my love. He loves people, and he's loved her since before we even knew we were expecting."

Sending you a reassuring smile you saw in the mirror that you returned happily. When arriving home Lewis was out of the car and opening your door, taking your hand and putting his arm around you pressing a kiss to your lips. While he grabbed your bags out of the back you walked around taking out the car seat.

Settling in the lounge on the comfortable sofa wincing at the slight pain you held your arms out for baby Sierra. Lewis placed her in your arms while pressing a kiss to her head. Looking at you with expectant eyes you nodded at him with a small smile.

You could hear your husband talking to your first baby, the patter of Roscoe's paws alerting you that they were close. Looking up from the tiny baby you smiled at your husband who took her from your arms.

"Roscoe, meet your little sister."

Roscoe moved closer sniffing her tiny hand that stretched out from underneath the blanket, feeling his cold nose her eyes opening and looking around. A yawn escaped her small lips, Roscoe moving ever closer to the unfamiliar being.

You tried to hold back your tears, but the emotion was far too much to handle for you, and your hormones were still not back to normal. Looking at your family and realising how lucky you were.

Almost three months after the birth of your angel you were on cloud nine. Lewis was the most amazing dad to her, he loved her, and even though she now got more attention than you did you didn't care.

It was a day to have family and friends over who were yet to meet her, you had finally been ready to let people come around, some of the drivers and their significant others joining. You were in the kitchen arranging the snack board the window looking out onto the backyard where everyone was.

George was holding Sierra a look of awe on his face, just as he went to kiss her little cheek Roscoe let out a bark disturbing the baby. You walked out wiping your hands on the cloth and made your way over to him

"Roscoe, no, we've talked about this bud. Sorry, Georgie, he's a little protective over her. Still follows me around everywhere."

"It's not all bad. A grid full of uncles, a second family at Mercedes, a protector, and a seven-time world champion as a dad. She's won the lottery."

Chuckling you nodded your head, looking at Lewis who has now taken her from George's arms and sitting down on the grass next to Roscoe. The young Mercedes driver wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah, she does have it all. She's a princess after all."

Tag List: @ifancycharlesleclerc @luv4gasly @hungryhungarian @moutnz @honethatty12 @ally4and33 @kii-003

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE PART OF THE TAG LIST!

1K notes · View notes

magniloquent-raven · 9 months

Text

I am once again plagued with thoughts that aren't 100% coherent so imma just ramble for a bit, pls gather 'round for some stuff about Billy and body image issues cuz I'm in my feels rn.

Billy spends a lot of time staring at Nancy.

Enough that Tommy's noticed and he starts ribbing him about it. "That's one thing of Steve's you might want to stay away from," bitter and pointed. Enough that Jonathan Byers gives him the stink eye whenever he's within glaring distance. Enough that a handful of the more desperate chicks still high off the fumes of his New Kid smell have started dressing like fucking librarians in hopes of catching his eye.

He doesn't give a shit about any of it, if anything the rumour mill is helping him out for once. Less work involved in keeping up appearances if everyone just assumes he isn't sleeping around because he's too busy sniffing Wheeler's granny panties.

As long as no one guesses the real reason, it's fine. It's fucking peachy. It's one silver lining in this shitstorm of a situation.

He's so tired of his eyes inevitably being drawn to her barely-there tits and tiny waist. Every time he's bored at lunch, his gaze wanders. When he's in the library pretending to study, there she fucking is, even smaller when she's hunched over a pile of cue cards.

The longer he looks at her the more sure he is that Steve will never really want him.

Steve's slept with plenty of girls. A variety of girls. He probably couldn't afford to be too picky in this shitty little town. But he's only fallen in love once. One time. The only time it mattered what he was sticking his dick in was when it was in Nancy Wheeler.

And Billy...will never be her. Not even close.

He'll only ever be a warm mouth and a convenient hand, he'll never matter.

She's flat, and thin. Willowy, narrow-shouldered. Petite. Inches shorter than him and nearly half as broad. Thin fingers and delicate wrists. She fit comfortably under Steve's arm, she could nestle safely into his side.

And it was all so fucking easy for her. She never had to try.

She never had to piss off her dad so she'd be forced to skip meals. She never did laps around her neighbourhood until she was lightheaded and doubled over, dry-heaving in someone's hedge. She was never forced to sign up for baseball as a child, poked and prodded and guilted into it because a couple shirts were starting to get tight across the stomach, and being a momma's boy was bad enough, being a fat, lazy piece of shit too was unacceptable.

He used to think he'd done well, maintaining the physique he has. He's worked hard for it. Scraping together his savings for a weight set and keeping careful track of his calorie intake and never skipping a single fucking day of exercise, hangovers and broken bones be damned. And it's fucking useful, truth be told. More than keeping away the echo of old insults bouncing around in his head, it's made flirting that much easier.

But the more he looks at Nancy Wheeler, the more he hates the things he can't change. It gets into his head. Digs in deep, leaving scars on its way down.

He thinks Steve might've noticed.

He knows Steve has heard the stupid rumours about Wheeler, and probably chalked it up to Billy being an asshole, as usual. But it's harder to explain away his sudden tendency to go extremely still whenever Steve puts his hands anywhere on his torso. A palm pressed to his chest, slipped under his shirt, or fingertips digging into his back, or a casual fucking pat on the shoulder—whatever it is, he can't help freezing up, if only for a second, a sick feeling twisting his stomach, cold and shameful and clawing at his lungs.

And then, eventually, they argue.

It's over nothing. And everything. Billy can't explain what his fucking damage is, and Steve can't stop needling in the wrong places. They scream at each other until their throats are raw and Billy leaves when his knuckles start to itch.

He cries all the way home and doesn't eat for four days. Not on purpose. Not consciously. He's just. Fucking. Busy. He's busy. He's always gotta drive Max somewhere or dodge Neil's thinly veiled threats or lock himself in his room when bile starts to bubble up in the back of his throat and his head pounds and he doesn't think about why he's snapping at everyone constantly, he just pounds back a couple beers and goes to sleep. And then it's four days later, and he's flying off the handle at Neil, too sluggish and lightheaded to see the hit coming, and...

Steve comes to see him at the hospital. He hasn't told anyone anything but they've got him hooked up to a banana bag and the nurses keep making sad eyes at him when they come to check his stitches.

He hates it, sitting around doing nothing, being closely monitored every fucking second, it make his skin crawl, and he hates it even more when Steve's standing in the doorway looking at him.

Not for the first time, he's overwhelmed wondering what exactly Steve sees.

He's a fucking mess right now. Greasy hair tangled at the back, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his gross papery hospital gown, one eye swollen shut and a dark tangle of thread holding his eyebrow together. It feels stupid to get stressed about all the shit that usually bothers him when there's so many other things to worry about, but he still finds himself shifting in place, hunching his shoulders, hiding his hands in the crooks of his elbows.

It's sort of a disaster. Worse than last time they saw each other. Billy's not in the mood for Steve's apologies and Steve's at a loss for what else to say.

They don't see each other again for months. Steve graduates. Billy avoids anywhere he thinks Steve might be, and lies awake at night haunted by stolen touches.

He catches a glimpse of Steve through the red haze of storm clouds and cold lightning, tears blurring his vision, the Mind Flayer wearing him like a suit. Their cars collide, and everything whites out for a second.

He's in the hospital again when they finally talk. Billy rolls his eyes at "We've gotta stop meeting like this," and tries not to think about last time he was here. Steve seems more than willing to ignore it. Move forward. Guess demonic possession puts some things into a different perspective.

When Billy's released from the hospital he's seventeen pounds heavier than he was a few months ago. Every time the nurses did their check-ups and put him on the scale they'd pat his elbow, smiling encouragingly, telling him how good he was doing while he watched his stomach get softer, his biceps get less defined, watched himself disappear beneath a layer of fat.

The first thing he does when he gets home is throw up.

He doesn't make it happen. It just happens. And he blames it on the meds they have him on. It's a plausible enough reason, and it means he doesn't have to interrogate the tiny spark of satisfaction he got from losing his lunch.

His second day back home Neil asks him when he's going to start exercising again. His expression is pinched. Cold. His eyes are ice chips freezing Billy's skin wherever they touch, lingering on the softness under his chin, and where the hem of his sleeve pinches his skin.

He pushes his dinner away and grits out an answer from between clenched teeth.

He doesn't need the reminder that he's gotten weak while he was trapped in a hospital bed, but Neil gives it to him anyways. Tells him all about everything he should do to get things back to normal. Push past the pain. Work harder. He tunes it out after a while, and watches grease congeal on his meatloaf.

Eddie Munson is the first person to bring up the things Billy's never known how to talk about.

They started hanging out after Billy's most recent brush with death. Billy's not sure exactly how the got here, from buying the occasional painkiller and letting the guy wax poetic about his dumb band, to spending weekends getting high together at the trailer park. But as weird things in his life go, it's barely worth questioning.

This particular conversation starts with Chrissy Cunningham.

Specifically, Eddie's massive boner for her.

Billy's been noticing it for a while. He hasn't been letting it bother him.

He hasn't.

Maybe he likes the way Eddie smiles at him when they pass a joint back and forth, lazily stretched out and wearing three less layers than usual, and maybe he thinks about closing the distance between them when Eddie offers to shotgun, but it doesn't fucking matter. Just like it doesn't matter that Steve hasn't touched him since before the Mind Flayer and things are fucking weird now that they're on speaking terms again. None of it matters, he's just a fucking idiot.

Because Steve and his new best friend Robin are attached at the hip lately and everyone can see where that's going, and Eddie won't stop talking about tiny, pretty, perfect fucking Chrissy and her stupid ponytail.

And Billy...Billy gets winded walking up the porch steps at his house now. And he pulled a muscle in his back trying to lift half the weight he used to press. And last week he burned three pairs of jeans in the backyard because he kept grabbing them out of his laundry pile, not realizing they don't fit anymore until he was struggling to pull them up past his knees.

He's lost the one thing people used to actually like about him. Never the people he wanted, he was never enough for that, but it was something. Now he's just...

Now he's just listening to a guy he likes talk about some goddamn cheerleader like she personally hung the moon just for him.

And he's drunk. They're both drunk. Eddie in a soppy, embarrassing way, with a sparkle in his eye and a flush on his cheeks, an arm across the back of the couch, outstretched far enough that the tips of his fingers almost brush Billy's shoulder.

He wants to move closer. Thinks about shuffling into Eddie's space, curling into the warmth at his side. But it twists in his guts, sours, sickens—he couldn't, he can't. And he hates himself for wanting to.

"What do you see in her?" spills out of his mouth, bitter on his tongue and sharpened by anger he has no right to feel.

She's pretty. He expects it. She's pretty, she's perfect. She's a fucking angel even though her and Eddie only know each other because she buys drugs off of him. But she can do no wrong because she looks like a little china doll with sad eyes and everyone would be devastated if a single hair on her tiny delicate head was harmed.

Eddie only looks thrown off for a second. A moment. But he shrugs it off, leans his head back against the couch cushions and grins at the ceiling. "She likes my music."

Since fucking when.

"So, what, it's just an ego stroking thing then."

"Nah, man. I mean. Like. She's got this whole good-girl thing going on, but you should see her when I pull out my guitar, it's fuckin'...magic. When she lets herself just. Live." He wiggles his fingers in the air, arms spread, then drops them back down.

Billy's heart clenches, squeezes. It hurts and he doesn't know why. "Bullshit."

"Nah, nah. Seriously. The guy she's dating is a fucking asshole. And her mom..." he trails off, and rubs his eye. "She's just got all this pressure to be perfect, act a certain way, look a certain way, be a certain way, and I hate seeing what it does to her, man. I hate it. No one should have to deal with all that. So. I dunno. I like helping her cut loose. Sorta, find herself, I guess." He cracks a crooked smile, casting a glance in Billy's direction.

And his smile drops.

"Billy?" He sits up, cautious, eyebrows up and his eyes wide.

Billy turns away, shocked into motion, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "I'm fine. Fuck off."

He didn't notice he was crying until Eddie looked at him like he'd seen a ghost.

"Yeah, obviously."

"Fuck you."

Eddie doesn't get much more out of him that night. But he starts watching Billy like a hawk after that. Checking in on him at random. Calling if they haven't seen each other in a few days. It should be irritating as fuck, and he acts like it is, but he still basks in the attention.

Doesn't hurt that it seems to annoy Steve to no end.

Especially doesn't hurt when, in a fit of apparent jealousy, Steve shoves Billy into a wall and kisses him like his life depends on it.

The hurt comes when Steve starts to unbutton Billy's shirt and Billy reflexively shoves him away, when he wants to keep going but wants it to stop and can't tell Steve either of those things because he doesn't have the words.

So he gets angry. At Steve, for pushing it, crossing lines he can't even see. But mostly at himself, because it might be easier than standing there heartbroken but he knows it's the worst thing he could do.

And at Steve, again, when the he doesn't respond the way he should. Doesn't punish Billy for doing the wrong thing, reacting wrong, being wrong. He doesn't withdraw and save himself, he tries to understand, tries to talk it out, like this is something Billy can just say out loud and it'll all be fixed.

He doesn't explain. Not that day. But he lets Steve hold him while he cries, ugly gasping sobs into the front of Steve's shirt, curled up in his lap, collapsed on the floor and tangled together. Because despite everything he's told himself, he does fit comfortably in Steve's arms.

💜tag list ppl💜 @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you @suddenlyinlove

#stranger things #billy hargrove #harringrove #mungrove #a raven's writing desk #tw disordered eating #tw body issues #body image issues

355 notes · View notes