#i need to likely get a job while still balancing school

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.3. your last day with quinn

➴ warnings: mention of a restrictive diet, constipation.

➴ word count: 1.7k

➴ author’s note: this was supposed to be a cute, hurt/comfort chapter but. i listened to madison beer while writing this so things took a turn and now it’s just depressing. at least there’s still some hurt/comfort here :,)

౨ৎ

2017, SEPTEMBER.

YOU were having the worst day ever.

It was a Friday, and one of those days where anything that could possibly go wrong, went wrong. First, you woke up at half-past five with a fever that made your entire body shiver. Your pajama was glued to your body, sticky with sweat. You sat on the bed, immediately regretting it because your head started spinning and suddenly you needed to throw up everything you’d eaten for dinner last night.

You felt like shit even when you managed to shower, sitting on your bathtub and letting the tears fall from your face. You felt so tired. It had already been a very stressful week, with your Mom forcing you to attend castings and auditions, making calls here and there so you could get the jobs she wanted for you, controlling everything you ate and drank.

On top of all of that, Peter and Quinn were leaving for college and you were sure you had never felt so alone before.

Quinn became your favorite person in the entire world when you both met four years ago. He was so important to you, and even though sometimes your heart didn’t understand what exact feelings you had for him, you needed him in your life.

The friendship you’d built over the past four years meant the world to you. How he took care of you, and how he tried to balance his career with still trying to be present in your life. How he would always ask about how you were doing in school, or about your dreams and wants. How he had introduced you to his family and how Jim and Ellen were nice to you, letting you come over to do your homework with Jack or Luke.

How sometimes you’d find Quinn practicing in their homemade ice rink, and you’d watch him for hours, impressed by his moves and skills. How sometimes you’d notice his hair falling out of the helmet, the sweat decorating his face and his blue, greenish eyes that would stare at nothing but the puck.

So when you found out he was leaving for Michigan? It hurt more than anything else, even if you were extremely happy for him.

You got out of the shower, feeling your body hurt everywhere. You were thankful that your classes didn’t start until next week and you didn’t have any auditions today so you could just jump right back in your bed.

Which was exactly what you did, sleeping like the dead after letting your tears fall for a bit more.

You woke up a few hours later, with a soft touch on your arm. Opening your eyes and immediately feeling them getting wet, you saw Quinn standing beside your bed.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he said, smiling. “Maria let me in. You didn’t come say goodbye to me.”

Your sick, tired brain took a little while to process what he was saying. Until you looked at the digital clock that sat on your bedside table, reading 11:34 a.m., Friday, 6 September.

Fuck.

You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You were still shivering underneath the covers and your throat hurt.

“Maddie?” You could see he had stopped smiling.

You tried to smile, feeling the need to reassure him. “I’m sorry. I forgot to set an alarm,” you lied, trying to get up again and, thankfully, succeeding this time. “I’ll be downstairs in just a minute. Sorry.”

Getting up didn’t exactly mean success, since your legs failed after five steps and now you were on the floor, with your knee hurting like a bitch.

“Maddie, what,” Quinn said, quickly coming to your rescue, like he often did. You had a headache? Quinn had the right medicine for it. You hurt your finger? Quinn wrapped your hand with a bandage. You were hungry? Quinn was already in the kitchen making your meal. “What’s going on? Are you sick?”

“No, just— I just woke up.” You didn’t know why you kept lying to him and you felt like shit, but it was his leaving day. The Hughes were moving back to the US, so that Jack and Luke could join the NTDP in Michigan and Quinn could go to UMich. And it couldn’t get worse, not really. “I’m fine.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, Madison,” he hissed, angrily. You frowned. Quinn had never gotten angry at you, not even when you managed to ruin his hockey uniform with glitter. “You’re sick. Did you eat?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, as he walked you to bed again. “I am fine, Quinn. It’s just constipation or whatever.”

“Stop acting like this is nothing, Madison.”

“Stop calling me that,” you frowned, annoyed for no real reason. You were going to miss them so much.

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” He raised his eyebrow.

“Why are you being so mean?” You whispered, feeling your eyes tearing up again, the fever making you shiver.

He stopped scowling for a second, softening his eyes at you. He sat beside you, placing his hand on your thigh, which you promptly grabbed. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just— I hate when you act like what happens to you isn’t important.”

You squeeze his hand, feeling less cold now.

“You’re like my little sister, so watching you sick is just as upsetting as it is with Lukey or Jack,” he chuckled, laughing like he hadn’t just shattered your feelings right there.

You didn’t know exactly what you felt for him, but you knew for a fact it wasn’t that silly admiration you had for him when you were little. You were fifteen now, and just when you were supposed to crush on the boys at your school, you were always comparing them to Quinn instead. And Quinn is always better than them.

Not to mention that he’d been getting cuter. He was losing his teenager features and it didn’t help it with your little infatuation for him.

Hearing him confirming that you were nothing but a family member to him stung. This was definitely the worst day of your life.

“Right,” you whispered, releasing his hand and wrapping your arms around your body. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go downstairs and say bye to you all. I’m sorry for that.”

“We’re only leaving at night so don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re feeling better until then.” He replied, getting up.

“Where are you going?” You asked, confusion taking over your face.

“I’m gonna ask Maria to make some soup for you while I go look for some cold medicine,” he put his hands inside his jeans pockets, something he did often, and smiled at you. “Do you think you’ll be fine here for ten minutes?”

You nodded, watching as he poked your cheek before leaving your room.

You laid down for a while, trying to organize your thoughts. You still didn’t understand what the Hughes leaving meant to you, only that you’d miss them like they were your own. Because for a while, that’s what they were.

You must have snoozed again because next thing you know, Quinn was shaking you lightly again. You opened your eyes, staring at him.

“Maria made you chicken noodle soup and I brought you juice and pills,” he pointed at the tray on your desk, smiling.

You got up, sitting up against the headboard, and thanking him as he placed the tray on your lap.

“Mom would probably kill me if she knew I’m eating noodles,” you joked, coughing loudly. Ugh.

“I won’t tell her a thing, promise,” he quickly said, sitting on the chair beside your desk, resting his hands on his knees, as he watched you eat. “Can’t believe we’re actually leaving.”

You chuckled. “Yeah.”

“You will come to visit us, right?”

You placed your spoon inside your bowl again, staring at Quinn’s face, trying to memorize all of his features at once. His upper lip, slightly thinner than his bottom one. His wavy, brown hair, messy and untamed, so beautifully shaped. His eyes, darker than Luke and Jack’s, but still bright and vibrant. His nose, big and cute and your favorite feature on his face.

Oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“‘Course I will,” you mumbled, shoving the last spoonful of soup into your mouth. Lying to Quinn always felt wrong. “I’m… I’m gonna miss you,” His eyes softened, and before he could speak, you continued. “You made my life so much easier. You and your family are so important to me so thank you.” You felt your eyes watering, and you looked up. No crying in front of anyone.

“Oh, Maddie,” he got up, removing the tray from your lap and putting it back on your desk, so he could sit beside you. “There’s no need for tears.”

You tried to give him a reassuring smile and tell him you’re okay but you only managed to let more tears fall from your eyes.

He placed your head on his shoulder, pulling the blanket until it reached your chin, covering you completely. Then, he gently grabbed your hand underneath and held it tightly.

“I’ll be only an one hour flight away, Maddie. Our house is your house too.”

You sniffled, feeling your body starting to hurt again.

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t want him to leave, that you needed him in your life and that you loved him. A young, unripe love that made your chest hurt every time you thought about it.

But you knew that you were just being selfish. Ever since you met him, you knew Hockey was his life. It is his favorite thing in the world, and it means a lot to them.

So you would never tell him anything. No. At least one of you deserved to be happy.

“I know,” you mumbled. “Can I take a nap?”

He chuckled beside you. “Yeah, ‘course. Not before you take your medicine though.”

You rolled your eyes, hiding the rest of your face under the cover, hearing Quinn’s soft laugh.

Little did you know you’d keep that sound safe and secure in your heart, for the rest of your life.

[bumpycap]

warning don't hit the button if you don't want to see possible cringe. definite cringe. hate myself for worrying, it's not that bad.

been zoned out for so long I didn't realize

I sit with the TV off, an unusual silence save for the sound of hushed arguing, I didn't realize

I'd tuned everything out, and now it seems like I don't care enough to be made aware of the true state of the situation

are we good? are we okay? I need to know, both of them argue constantly about money and such. it's so tiring, when they tell me everything is okay, but it really seems like the dam might be starting to crack from where I stand. so stressed, not knowing if it's actually cracking, or just my imagination, my mind overexaggerating things. it usually does.

[icedteaandoldlace]

Personally, I envisioned The Flash's series finale involving a scene with Barry, Caitlin, and Cisco all teaming up in the field again, with Iris on comms in the Cortex, Kamilla and Joe helping somehow from the S.T.A.R. Labs van, close to where the O.G.s are doing their thing, the JV Squad being Somewhere Else, idc where, just not in this scene, Mark being long gone past the point of anyone mentioning or thinking about him, and Starlight by Muse playing in the background.

[ellesimsworld]

Medical School Student Mod | Sims 4

Click HERE for Version 2 on my Patreon. Requirements: 

EP01: Get to Work EP08: Discover University XML Injector by SCUMBUMBO

Have you ever wanted your Sims to go to medical school before entering the doctor career? Or maybe your Sim just wants to go to medical school for the hell of it! Well in my pursuit of adding more gameplay mods to my save for better storytelling, I created this medical school student career track! I made this career available for Teens-Adults.

Applying to Medical School

Even though the medical school track, is technically a joinable career, I still wanted to create the opportunity for your Sims to apply to medical school! Applying will take about 3-4 hours and will cost them §500.

Medical Institutions:

Your Sim will be randomly placed at one of the following medical institutions:

-The Landgraab School of Medicine -University of Britchester School of Medicine -Foxbury Institute of Medicine and Health Sciences -Plumbob Center of Medicine -Newcrest Center for Medicinal Sciences -Komorebi Institute of Medicinal Studies -University of Willow Creek, Goth School of Medicine

Again, their placement will be randomized. If you want your Sim to work at a specific medical institute, you can quit and rejoin the career until you get your desired one.

Pay: Your Sims will be unpaid until they become an intern (Level 5). For the first four levels, it is up to you to decide how (or if) your Sims will make simoleons. I recommend the Unlimited Jobs mod by TURBODRIVER, which allows you to have multiple jobs at a time. You can check it out here if you like.

Career Track

This career track comes with 9 levels:

Preclinical Med Student I: (§0)

Starting your journey into the medical field, you're diving into basic sciences and learning the foundational concepts of medicine. It's a challenging start, but with hard work, you'll build the knowledge needed for your future career.

Preclinical Med Student II: (§0)

With the first year behind you, you're now diving deeper into complex medical subjects. Balancing intense coursework and initial patient interactions, you're beginning to see how your studies apply to real-world healthcare.

Preclinical Med Student III: (§0)

Transitioning from the classroom to clinical rotations, you're getting hands-on experience in various specialties. Your understanding of medicine is growing rapidly as you apply your knowledge to real patients under supervision.

Preclinical Med Student IV: (§0)

In the final phase of your medical school journey, you're solidifying your skills and preparing for the next step. As you complete your rotations and apply for residency programs, you're focused on becoming a competent and compassionate doctor.

Intern: (§10)

Welcome to the first year of residency! As an intern, you're now a doctor, responsible for patient care under the guidance of senior physicians. The hours are long, but each day brings invaluable learning experiences and growth. Junior Resident: (§15)

With a year of internship behind you, you're now taking on more responsibilities. Your confidence is building as you make more independent decisions and start to specialize in a particular field of medicine.

Senior Resident:(§20)

Nearing the end of your residency, you're a seasoned doctor with a wealth of clinical experience. You're mentoring interns and junior residents while honing your expertise and preparing for the final stages of your training. Chief Resident: (§25)

As the chief resident, you're a leader among your peers, coordinating the residency program and ensuring the smooth operation of the team. Your skills and leadership abilities are put to the test as you balance administrative duties with patient care.

Fellow: (§35)

Specializing further, you're now a fellow, focusing on a particular area of medicine. This stage is all about mastering your chosen field, conducting research, and becoming a true expert before transitioning to an attending physician role.

Hours:

The hours for this career track are LONG! Again, I wanted to add as much realism as I could. So, expect your Sim to be gone for practically the entire day! They most likely will come back home with a tense/dazed buff.

Skills and Objectives The major skills your Sim will be focusing on in this career are Logic, Writing, Handiness, and Research & Debate. Your Sims objectives are essentially to progress these skills to the required levels.

Computer Interactions and Rabbitholes: There is a separate in-game pie menu for Medical Students on computers. This comes with nine (9) new interactions and rabbithole activities for your Sims!

The time for each activity varies; but expect your Sim to spend HOURS doing most of them lol (for example, the Medical Conference may take 3-4 hours, and going to Clinical Rounds may take 5-6 hours. For rabbithole activities, your Sim will go to the computer first, before leaving. Also be ready to spend some simoleons on activities such as paying tuition, going to conferences, and textbooks (SEE BELOW)

Textbooks:

What is medical school without textbooks...and expensive ones too?! I added four (4) new textbooks. They total to about§500.  They're also located under the Emotional category since they give your Sims a Focused buff, which can help them build their skills.

Lot Traits:

For those who want to take their gameplay up a notch, I created a Medical School Lot Trait. But because we don't have medical school lots in game, if you plan on building a medical school for your Sims, it will most likely have to be on a generic lot.

Buffs: Several buffs come in game with the various interactions! Here is a quick snapshot of a few:

Trait & Conversation Topics: Lastly, I also created a CAS trait for your Sims who are/ or want to become medical students. This trait comes with basic wants such as wanting to go to the library or researching something on Simpedia. The trait itself should be in the Lifestyle category.

Also, Sims with this trait will have the following conversation topics available to them:

Important:

Please make SURE that you have the XML Injector installed; and that you have script mods enabled. Also try not to separate package and script files or place script files more than 2 folders deep!

Known Problems/ Conflicts:

As of now, there are no reported conflicts or problems with this mod. Feel free to join the discord to let me know of any issues that you detect.

Update Log: 5/17/2024

As requested, I added the postgraduate positions such as interns, as well as junior, senior and chief residents, and fellows. I also added pay for these levels.

5/21/2024 MOD IS CURRENTLY BEING UPDATED (WITH MORE GAMEPLAY FEATURES 😊) BECOME A FREE PATRON OR PAID MEMBER TO GET UPDATES!

5/22/2024 Additional gameplay features were added. If you downloaded the old files before on this date, PLEASE DELETE, AND REPLACE WITH THE NEW FILES.

T.O.U.

Please do not claim this mod as your own. Please do not upload this mod to any other websites. Please let me know before translating this mod.

FOR DOWNLOAD AND MORE INFORMATION, visit my Patreon.

elle.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Lesson Learnt | John Price x Reader

Summary: Your good-for-nothing boyfriend won’t help you change out your flat tire in the cold, soaking rain, but luckily someone else comes along to assist, and teaches your boyfriend a lesson while he’s at it.

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Warnings: annoying boyfriend, toxic relationship, platonic!gaz being a cutiepie, price being the greenest flag known to mankind, fem!reader, I’ve never changed a tire before in my life and it’s glaringly obvious…

A/N: been in a major writing slump lately+school kicking my butt+I think I’m getting sick, but full credit to @ceilidho for this idea, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

Your day hadn’t been the shittiest so far, but it certainly hadn’t been great.

You’d been off that day, but your boyfriend had called, needing you to pick him up early from his job for whatever reason. He only worked at some little restaurant in town with a decent salary, enough to get food and rent paid for combined with your money anyway. Something about his shifts being moved or the schedule being off, but whatever it had been had been enough for you to hop into his truck, drive over to him, and pick him up.

“Did you cook for dinner tonight?”

He asked from the passenger seat, the seatbelt not even on, despite it already being dark because of the early winter months, and the rain coming down against the windshield. Your lights were on, but still.

“No, wasn’t thinkin’ about it.”

You replied with a small mumble, and he sighed. You were the one who cooked and kept the housework up, and he earned most of the money. It would be balanced, except for the fact that you earned almost the same amount of money as him, and also worked full-time. It barely left any time for meals, most just being pre-prepped on weekends, or thrown together.

“Guess we can just get takeout then.”

He said, tone holding a bit of disappointment. You sighed inwardly, turning your turn signal on as you went down the road to one of the nearest places there. It was a run-down chicken joint that you were pretty sure was a front for some sort of illegal activities, but they had delicious chicken at cheap prices, so you weren’t complaining.

Your mind began to wander when you thought about the restaurant, and what you’d order. You hoped your boyfriend had brought his card because you’d left your wallet at home, ID and license long forgotten. Well, I guess you were just hoping to not get pulled over tonight, or come in contact with any cops.

As if whatever gods there were had heard your thought process, a small ‘thump’ caught your attention, and then a light squeaking sound as the air pressure in your front right tire began rapidly decreasing. With a sigh, you pulled over onto the side of the not-too-busy road. Your boyfriend gave an exasperated exhale.

“We’re gonna have to change the tire.”

You said, and he gave you a withering glance, jerking his chin towards the back of the truck.

“Spare’s in the back. Got a few tools back there to get ‘er done.”

A small pause for a moment as your hand reached for the handle of the door, and he didn’t move at all. You just stared in pure shock.

“You aren’t going to help?”

He gave you a look as if to say you were being ridiculous and illogical right now. You hated that look.

“I just got off work. I’m tired and hungry, and your poor driving skills aren’t my problem.”

He said with a shrug like it was obvious. Your mind still reeling, you searched for the little umbrella you kept near the console, only to find it missing. Great, just great, you thought.

With no other option, you stepped outside, immediately being pelted by the cold raindrops, and skin being lashed at by the harsh wind. You walked around to the trunk, opening the back, and finding the spare tire there, and a toolbox as well. Your shivering hands sorted through the cold metal tools, eventually finding a lug wrench, and a screwdriver, and behind the toolbox you found a jack.

You advanced towards the flat tire, rolling the spare behind you, and you knelt, skirt already soaking wet, your white shirt soaked through and not leaving much to the imagination as it was practically see-through and sticking to your form. The lug nuts didn’t come off easily, but somehow, your fingers got them.

Right when you began using the screwdriver to try and get the hubcap off, something else caught your attention.

Another car, beat up, but well-loved on and taken care of pulled up behind you on the side of the road. It stopped, and two men stepped out. One was taller, with a beard, a thick cigar in his mouth, and a hat on. He might’ve been one of the owners of that chicken restaurant. Whatever it was, he looked familiar. The other man had pretty brown skin, was less tall but still had some muscle in him like the other man, and wore his hat.

The taller one strode up to you just as you managed to pry the hubcap off. His brows furrowed as he looked at your boyfriend sitting in the car, and you, drenched in rain, changing the flat tire of the truck he assumed probably wasn’t even yours.

“Gaz, come help ‘er out wit’ this.”

He said, his voice brusque but also warm at the same time. Realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet, he gave a nod of his head to you.

“John Price, that there is Kyle, but we call ‘im Gaz.”

You blinked, and Kyle walked over, crouching down next to you and offering a polite smile. One that didn’t quite meet his eyes, but it wasn’t rude. Price must’ve noticed your shivering form or the sheer white shirt that was clear because of the rain because he took his brown jacket off and put it around your shoulders. The insides were fuzzy and warm, and it was oversized, but enough to keep the heat insulated and the wet cold out. A bit surprised, you simply said your name.

“Oh..thanks. Y/N.”

You offered, for some reason trusting these strangers enough to give them your real name. Something about them felt right. Price nodded, then raised a brow at your boyfriend in the car, who still hadn’t noticed them, too preoccupied with his phone.

“What’s a pretty birdie like you doin’ changin’ wheels out here?”

John asked, and you weren’t sure what overcame you, but you cast a glance up at the boy in the car.

“He wasn’t going to help.”

Gaz and Price both looked slightly taken aback by that, exchanging glances, as Price opened up the door where your boyfriend was (avoiding hitting you or his sergeant's heads with it, of course) and pulled him out by the collar.

“Hey—what-“

Price shut him up real quick, then moved to hold him by the scruff of his neck.

“Now you listen here, why’ve you got your girl ou’ here doing all this work in the soakin’ rain, when you should be the one doing this, yeah?”

He asked, and your boyfriend turned a light shade of pink that wasn’t fully visible in the dark of the night.

“Well, I..”

“I’ll show you how a real man provides for his partner. Garrick, move over.”

He shoved your boyfriend back into the grass, and Gaz scooted more to the right, letting Price take the left side. Price carefully grabbed you by the hips and moved you back, out of the way, but to where you could still watch and hear him talk.

“Can’t believe it, ‘at’s ridiculous.”

He muttered, and Kyle shook his head.

“Can’t help but agree, sir.”

They used the jack to jack the car up, strong arms easily placing the spare tire in place, Gaz holding it up while Price screwed the lugnuts back on. While putting the hubcap back on, John began talking to you.

“You oughta find you a man, someone that would provide for you, that lil’ boy you got isn’t it. We’d never treat a woman like that, now would we, Gaz?”

“Never, sir.”

“Look at ‘im, two complete strangers are here, changing out his tire, and he ain’t offered a lick o’ help.”

He said, shaking his head, not even glancing back at your boyfriend who still was sitting in the grass behind you all. The hubcap was put back into place, and they both stood, lowering the jack before removing it. Price offered you a hand up, and you took it, surprisingly enjoying how his burly callouses felt against your soft skin. Kyle put the tools and jack back in the trunk, before again being at Price’s side.

His eyes met Kyle’s, and Kyle took out a small notepad and pen, scribbling something down, before passing it to John who did the same. They tore the paper off, handing it to you. It was their numbers, Gas’s having a little smiley face next to it, and Price’s having a simple ‘Call me’.

“If you’re ever in trouble, give us a ring.”

Price said, and Gaz nodded as if to confirm this. You took the piece of paper and folded it in half, putting it in your pocket to protect it from the rain. Price gave you a little pat on the back, and Gaz brushed his hand ever so slightly against yours, before they both walked back to their car, getting in, and driving off with nothing more than a wave.

With a judgemental look down at your boyfriend, you got into the car, throwing his things that were still inside out at him where he was still sitting in the grass.

“We’re done.”

And with that, you drove off before his angry cussing started.

It was only when you got home that night (to the shared apartment, which you would very soon be leaving) that you noticed something. Price hadn’t ever taken his jacket back.

[strawberryblue-blog]

You don't know me —Pablo Gavi

summary: you get drunk and Gavi has to take you home but you hate each other (mostly you)

warnings: yes. alcohol consumption, bad words, enemies to lovers.

words count: +2k.

#SEXYNOTE: English is not my first language so i apologize for any spelling errors or misunderstandings.

The music blared in your ears as you continued to dance with your friends. The alcohol in your blood was responsible for your happiness and maybe you had had enough but you felt so good. It was like one of those days where you didn't care about anything but enjoying your youth, so you just enjoyed yourself. You had missed coming to dance and have fun with your friends.

The dance floor was a little small for you. You couldn't stop moving as your friends moved around you and laughed happily, dancing and drinking.

"I think it's time to go home" you heard your friend say.

"Nooooooo" you groaned as Fermin grabbed you below the waist, helping you walk.

"We need more of this" you squealed raising your glass in the air.

Lately these days you had been feeling stressed and a little sad. Exams were on the doorstep and you couldn't miss them and you were working in the evenings to support yourself. So you were coming home late in the day with a broken and tired head. So you didn't have much time to go out with friends or go dancing, you just came home to rest and go back to class in a loop.

"You'll thank me tomorrow" he said taking your bag from the table. Your other friends complained and you had to say goodbye to them even though you didn't want to leave.

Fermin, who was in charge of driving you home tonight, helped you walk back to the VIP table of the guys, who were drinking and laughing while watching the others. Buh boring. Fermin was one of your best friends since childhood, since you used to go to the same school and then upon graduation you went to the same university. Fermin was still the same kid you knew from before, only now he was a great football player and very famous but he didn't lose the essence. Although the advantage of having a famous friend was something you began to like at times. You were in one of the best clubs in Barcelona, free drinks and really rich people. You couldn't complain. Although his other friends were really boring, what was the point of being famous if you weren't going to enjoy your life? They were always there, sitting around, drinking and chatting with each other.

"I need help with this one" he announced and you laughed as you almost fell over from not being able to hold your balance.

In front of you, you could see the players watching you hiding their laughter at your ridiculous spectacle and as Fermin tried to hold you up so you wouldn't run out of his hands onto the dance floor again.

"I'll take care of the others, could someone drive her home?" you heard him ask towards his friends and you rolled your eyes.

You didn't want to be a bother to any of them, surely they had something to do with their busy celebrity lives, so you planned to take a cab home. Yes, you were drunk but nothing you couldn't handle on your own. It wasn't the first time.

"I can give her a ride, i'm leaving anyway" someone said and you could see one of his friends get up from his spot.

Pablo Gavi. The man that every woman in Spain is crazy about him. A self-centered jerk that you still couldn't get along with. Not for anything special, he just had some attitudes you didn't like, like thinking he was the center of the world, that all women were at his feet or that he was the best at his job. You really didn't understand how someone like him could be Fermín's best friend. They were such opposites.

"I'll send you her address, take care of her, brother" Fermin warned pointing to his friend.

"I don't want to leave!" you whined as your friend helped you put on your jacket. You hear a snort from the boy who was waiting behind you but you ignored him.

"You need to rest, tomorrow you'll have the worst day of your life, Y/n" he said hugging you goodbye.

You pouted and nodded resignedly.

"See you around, gentlemen" you waved them towards the other players, who waved back at you animatedly as you staggered out behind Gavi.

There were still quite a few people for it being almost closing time, so you walked carefully trying to step firmly following Gavi but the boy's back was getting further and further away from you. He didn't even bother to notice if you were behind him, he just continued on his way out of the place. Idiot.

When you crossed the door of the discotheque, you hugged your body in the cool of the night and your eyes caught sight of the young man waiting for you a little further away. His gaze was cold, disinterested. So you rolled your eyes, walking towards the edge of the street, away from him.

"What are you doing?" you heard him ask in the distance.

"Going home" you mumbled looking to your sides to see if a cab was approaching.

"The car is that way" he sighs again pointing.

Clearly you were a bother to him and you didn't want to owe any favors to any of Fermin's friends, least of all him.

"You're fucking drunk, come on" he said and you let out a wry huff.

"I'm not your concern anymore, you can go" you said again.

"I told Fermin I'd take you" he reneged coming up behind you.

"I won't tell him anything, you go your way, I'll go mine. Problem solved" you reply edgewise. You can hear him sigh angrily.

For a few seconds silence ensues, you say nothing but you can see out of the corner of your eye his figure behind you. Maybe you're being a bit airheaded but you know he's only taking you home for commitment and you'd rather not bother him honestly.

"Whatever you want" you hear him say and nod.

When you think he'll leave, because you see him move, you sigh in relief... but then hands wrap around your legs and you squeal as you're lifted off the ground. You scream as you are left face down, Gavi grabbed your legs and carried you over his shoulder, depositing his hand on your legs while the other on your back holding you up.

"Put me down!" you scream trying to kick but he stops you forcefully. "Pablo, put me down now!" you ask again screaming.

His cold hands squeeze your skin and make you shiver, how dare he? you want to hit him so bad! Your legs are uncovered in front of him and it embarrasses you, probably everyone is seeing your panties thanks to that idiot Pablo Gavi.

"I'm. going. to. kill. you" you scream over and over again, hitting his muscular back.

Damn. His muscles are really hard, you swallow saliva as you feel his firmness under your fingers. Being upside down is no doubt making you unable to think. You get to his car, where you hear him unlock it and open the passenger door, you make a move to get out of it but Gavi lifts you back up and sits you in the seat as if you were a five year old. You cross your arms over your chest and refuse to even look at him.

"Stop acting whimsical" he mutters as his arms cross your body to buckle himself in. You roll your eyes at his words and ignore him.

You are angry. You want to hit him and hit Fermin for letting you go with Gavi.

Damn it, you can't take it.

During the whole trip, you stay in your place as if you were not there, even at times your eyes close but you force yourself to stay awake. Gavi kept spying on you while driving, making sure everything was okay. The atmosphere is tense and silent, no one says a word. You're not sure if Fermin told him where you lived or how he was supposed to know the way to your house because when you realize it you start to recognize your neighborhood.

He parks in front of your building and waits a few seconds until you unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your stuff.

"Do i have to carry you all the way home too?" he says teasingly and you open the car door.

Duh duh duh duh. You want to taunt him in that sarcastic tone and curse him out but he won't take any more from you.

As you take a step outside and try to walk, you trip over your own foot and stagger but manage to grab hold of the door before you fall. You hear a low chuckle and your nerves start to make you sweat (or maybe it's the alcohol).

You tell yourself that you can and stand back up to take another step. The worst thing is that you know Gavi is watching you with his smile judging you and makes you want to die right there. Sure, he's a perfect guy who has never come home drunk enough to make a fool of himself.

When you manage to take a few steps away from the car, you start looking in your purse for your building key but start gasping when your hands can't find it. You pick up everything, cards, lipstick, chewing gum, bills but can't find it. Damn, did it all have to happen to you now? You hear Gavi get out of the car and you rush to look for the key starting to curse in whispers.

A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you grab them from the bottom of your purse, my god. If it wasn't for the fact that you were controlling yourself you probably would have screamed with happiness when you pulled them out.

You walk to the big door and open it, hearing footsteps behind you approach. You turn and see the young man with his hands in his pockets, watching you. As your eyes make contact with his, your stomach churns and your throat goes dry. why is he still here?

"T-thank you for bringing me" you thank him stammering.

"I'll come up with you, i have to make sure you get home and don't fall on the way" he says slowly.

Did you look that bad? How could he think you needed a ride home? Yes, you were drunk. But you could, you had managed to walk here by yourself and open the door. Taking the elevator and getting into the house couldn't be impossible, could it? You didn't understand why he cared so much if he hardly ever cared about you. It seemed that he was also intent on bothering you.

"Whatever you want" you repeat like him before and roll your eyes making room to let him pass.

You turn to start walking and your world turns upside down, making you stagger again from the sudden movement. Fuck, you shouldn't have drunk so much. Not when you hadn't had a drink in so long, you'd clearly lost your taste.

His hands help support you, placing them on your hips. His touch is warm and when his fingers press against your skin, your legs tremble and you're not sure it's from the alcohol especially. He is so close to you that you can hear his breaths, his scent invades your nostrils and you swallow saliva trying to assimilate.

You are paralyzed as if your mind had stopped working, when his hands move a little, helping you back on your feet. You are thankful he is behind you because you feel your face burning, your lips tremble as you feel his warmth next to yours and you don't understand what is happening to you. You keep walking towards the elevator still without seeing him, you will die of embarrassment if you do, he is surely enjoying this and can mock you forever.

The elevator doors open and you enter first going to the side, seeing how Gavi enters inside the metal box as well. He is untouched, sporting his perfect hairstyle, his well-ironed, clean, quality clothes, his face looks uncluttered, fresh. For some reason thinking about him makes you feel discomfort in your belly as if something is fluttering inside you. You sigh as the doors come off and you mark your floor, looking to your side seeing the boy standing next to you.

Pablo turns to look at you and when he catches you looking at him he smiles a little, you feel your neck burn with embarrassment but for some reason you can't stop looking at him. It's as if you study his every move, watching him there, standing next to you, hands in his pockets, expressionless.

You turn slightly, leaning against the metal wall your back against it and turn your attention back to him. You suddenly feel like talking but don't know what to say.

"How does it feel to be famous?" you ask curiously.

He lifts his shoulders indifferently. Is he really a cocky idiot like everyone says? They always say that footballers are narcissistic, self-centered and womanizers. Many claim that Gavi is one of them. Curiosity killed the cat and you're honestly dying to know.

"You must have a very big ego" you say somewhat sarcastically.

He sighs as if he's tired of you and that makes you want to keep pestering him.

"Actually, no" he says in response and turns around facing you.

"Of course you'll say that" you click your tongue. "At the end of the day you're Pablo Gavi" you roll your eyes laughing.

His eyes narrow trying to understand your answer and the sound of the sound that came to your floor announces itself, opening the doors. You straighten up taking a step to leave but when you try to cross, his hand stops you. You swallow as you see how his hand is almost close to your belly, brushing against you and the memories of him carrying you in the discotheque come back to your head. Out of the corner of your eye you see him so close to you, you tremble, he has presence on you and you are attentive to any movement he makes.

His hand now encircles your body and he pushes you into a corner against the wall as the elevator closes its doors again after a few seconds of waiting. Your back slams against the metal wall again as his body presses against yours.

"Do you have a fucking problem with me?" he asks harshly and you raise your head to face him.

Your heart is pounding as if you've just finished running a marathon. Your palms sweat, you even feel your pulse tremble and you know the alcohol isn't to blame for that... it's Gavi. Words get stuck in your throat when you try to speak, it's as if your conscience doesn't respond on its own.

Still, you raise your jaw to face him, you will not show him fear, you will not show him weakness. Even though you feel like every atom of you wants to fade away because of his closeness.

He waits for an answer, because he keeps looking at you through his dark eyes, serious and agonizing. Your exposed chest rises and falls at the lack of air between you, you begin to suffocate beneath him and if you don't respond right now, he will have won.

"I don't like you, just that" you admit feigning harshness.

Gavi lets out a wry huff, smiling a little.

"You don't know me" he says edgeily, gritting his teeth. His neck is red and you can see his veins starting to mark through his pale skin. For god's sake.

But he was right, you don't know him at all. Although you could deduce what kind of person he was from so few things.

"And I don't want to" you spit getting closer to her face to show him that you can be tough too and not just another one of his pile.

You're so angry that you're not afraid. In fact it doesn't bother you to be so close to him, you just want to face him, you want to hurt him. If he was a normal person, you probably would have broken his heart with those words but you're not dealing with just any person.

In front of you, Pablo Gavi smiles licking his lips in mockery. He's not just any man, he's one of those who don't break easily and that everyone fears.

But not you.

Kiss him. You hear your thoughts and freeze. Damn, did you drink too much? or not enough? because right now you're losing your mind.

Words become null and void. You can only hear your breaths in front of each other. The atmosphere is tense, suffocating and even toxic. You are both angry, full of adrenaline and about to explode.

Without realizing it, your movements come to life and you grab his neck from behind and pull him close to you in a matter of seconds, without thinking. Your lips collide with his and you kiss wildly.

The grip on your waist presses your bodies together and you gasp at the sensation of his fingers squeezing you.

You melt into the heat of a bold, hard and hot kiss. You waste no time fighting to touch each other and your hands trying to hold onto each other any way you can. You are desperate as if you were two hunters before a prey, killing by hunger. You both touch, kiss, feel each other, enjoying the moment. His hand sinks into your legs and helps you lift it over his body as you keep trying to touch him, your skin feeling his hard muscles.

Sparks shoot from your bodies, you are so desperate that you don't notice that you are still inside the elevator. The minutes pass like shooting stars but you don't stop kissing.

You will definitely have the worst day of your life tomorrow and you really wish all the alcohol you drank today was enough to not remember any of this.

Otherwise, you won't be able to live with it.

[happy74827]

The Perfect Gift of Appreciation

[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.

WC: 2897

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,

A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔

『••✎••』

He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.

It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.

You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.

"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.

The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.

Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.

Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.

The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.

"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.

Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.

"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"

You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.

The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.

You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.

The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.

You had no other choice, and he knew that.

So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.

The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.

His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.

You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.

Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.

"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.

"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"

Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?

He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.

"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."

You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.

Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.

Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.

So why the sudden change?

You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.

The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.

Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.

Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.

"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.

He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.

He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…

You know, the typical doctor questions.

Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.

As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.

He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.

Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.

Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.

The numbing shot.

The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.

He almost looked bored.

You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.

You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.

Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.

The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.

It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.

Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.

Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.

"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.

"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"

That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.

When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.

Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"You know, I miss this."

You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"

He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.

Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"

"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"

You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.

A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.

It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.

When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.

The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.

The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.

Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.

It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.

He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.

Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.

Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.

He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.

Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.

You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.

"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.

Damn, that was fast.

He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.

The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."

"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.

You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."

You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.

It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.

You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.

Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.

Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.

And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.

As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.

There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.

You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.

Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.

But tonight? What a true blessing.

You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.

Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.

And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.

You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.

It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.

Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.

Well, no one except you.

[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️

I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈

[pedgito]

𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 ✎ 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

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

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

word count: 11k — part two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She stops, the memory spilling her brain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

7:50. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need help?” You ask sweetly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riley perks up suddenly, nodding. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie nods, “I’ll be on time.”

And for whatever odd reason, you believed him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wouldn’t change it for a thing.

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

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

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

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

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

He nods silently.

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

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

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

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

“Sad.” He answers softly. 

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

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

“I’m sorry, Riley.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Riley smiles slightly, giggling quietly. 

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

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

Riley shakes her head, pigtails swinging wildly.

You huff, “Okay—let’s brainstorm.”

“Brain…storm?” Riley asks curiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You since her concern, eyebrow raising in question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My face,” She frowns, “it’s sticky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods, letting go of Eddie in an instant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie laughs, “Are we good?”

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

“Ri?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, you shop here—“

“You’re in the way of—“

Eddie chuckles awkwardly, “You first.”

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

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

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

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

She contemplates for a moment, “Deal.”

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

“And a handful.” Eddie adds fondly.

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

“What, Ri?” He asks, turning to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you?” Eddie asks, “Want to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrug, feeling indifferent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything.” You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie looks uncertain, “No—I can—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyebrows knit together in obvious confusion. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got it, babe.” You tell her.

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

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

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

“Oh, okay.” You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head, gradually walking to his side.

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

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

Eddie catches your gaze, eyebrows pulling together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He smiles cautiously, glancing down at his chest.

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

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

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

“Can I ask why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, Eddie catches you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, don’t worry about—“

“Eddie.”

“I’m not joking.”

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

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

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

“At least let me pay for the parts?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie hates how well he can relate to it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what?”

“We can hang out.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie nods, “Yeah, of course.”

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

And Eddie should feel slighted, but he does understand.

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

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

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

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

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

[luvhughes43]

tuition payments | hughes!sister

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: hi!! i love your work and would like to know if you could do hughes brother x younger hughes sister as the reader, who is short money to go to college and is afraid to ask her brothers first help hut once they find out they help her out?

word count: 0.6k

with your parents' new jobs, they were off the grid for awhile while they tended to their clients and hockey prospects. you knew that in advance, which is why your parents had paid for your tuition before their schedules became busy. so when you got an email on monday saying your tuition was overdue, you were shocked to say the least. 

there was $3 000 pending in your account, which meant your scholarship hadn’t gotten cleared again. you emailed your school back immediately, asking about the money and if your credit could be used, but you didn’t get a reply. all you received were multiple OVERDUE messages, each promising to add more money as a late fee to your already high balance. 

you didn’t have enough money in your savings or chequings account to cover the remaining balance, and so you hastily picked up shifts hoping you could make enough to cover the costs. your friends downright asked why you couldn’t just ask your brothers for the money - and in truth you could, but it just felt wrong. you felt so bad for being dependant on everyone in your family, so if you could help it you would work for the tuition money.

you had almost saved enough when you got the email that your payment had gone through. you sighed in relief, thinking your credit went through but when you checked the app you saw that the remaining balance was paid via card. 

you didn’t have a second to think before a call from quinn lit up your phone. 

“hey quinny?” 

“why didn’t you tell me about your tuition?” he asks, getting straight to the point. 

“how do you know about that?” “dad told me before he went on his work trip to check your accounts and make sure everything was paid,” quinn states simply, and you wonder briefly how quinn even got into your school account before realizing your parents have your passwords. 

“oh…”

“why wouldn’t you tell us you had tuition due?” your brother asks again, this time his voice full of confusion. “like, we could’ve handled this sooner. at least you don't have any of the stupid fees,” he trails off. 

“i just,” you pause, feeling that your reasoning was stupid now that you were about to vocalize it. “i feel like i'm so dependent on you guys. i picked up a few shifts to try and make the money up but it just didn’t happen,” you sigh. 

quinns quiet on the phone and you shift uncomfortably. “you know we don’t care right?” 

“i care!” you huff before putting the call on speaker and laying down on your dorm bed. 

“i’m a millionaire,” quinn states simply. “your schooling is important. you’re not working full-time so you can focus on your studies” 

“i know but i still feel bad…”

quinn sighs, “literally don’t worry about it. nobody feels like you're dependent. you're a university student it’s normal to need help,” 

“okay…” your voice is quiet, and you feel a pang of guilt hit your chest. sometimes you just wish that you didn’t have to ask your brothers or parents for help. 

“i love you y/nny, if you need anything just call” 

“i love you too,” you reply. the siblings stay on the call for a few more minutes, just debriefing on life and the daily dramas. you always know, despite how guilty you may feel, that you’ll always have your brothers if you need help.

[lavendertom]

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 1

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! maybe small age gap (reader is 20, mike is like 23/24 ?) lmk if there’s something i missed by chance

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. pt. 1 of a multi part series!

could be seen as a prequel to my first work My Favorite Prize, but wasn’t written with the intention :) hopefully this doesn’t feel too long, i promise it gets better in pt 2! mostly exposition here 😌

——————————————————————————

College was not the experience you’d expected at all. You lived at home deciding to attend community college, and you didn’t have many friends or the ‘college experience’ everyone else was having. You were lonely, but at least you went to bed in your own room every night rather than sharing a tiny dorm with an annoying roommate and zero privacy.

“I think I found a job for you, y/n.” you heard your mom say as you walked in the door, barely crossing the threshold.

She had been begging you to find a job for months now. You had an agreement with your parents that freshman year you would focus on your studies, but sophomore year you had to step up and start helping balance the burden of college tuition. It was now spring semester of sophomore year and you still had no job.

“Don’t hand me another McDonalds application, please.” you said with a sigh as you placed your keys and bag on the dining room table.

“You know the neighbor across the street, Mike?” you felt your heart drop with the mention of his name. How could you not know the neighbor across the street.

He immediately caught your attention the day he moved in with his sister. You knew he was a few years older than you, he wasn’t in school and he was constantly working. He was nice. Although, you’d never truly spoken to him besides introducing yourself back when he initially moved in and you were just a junior in high school. Your parents often helped him keep up with yard work when things got especially hard. Everyone knew they were struggling, it wasn’t that hard to tell.

“Yeah, I remember him.” Of course I remember Mike. He’s the neighbor that I’ve found a little too attractive since he moved in.

“I saw him this morning before work, he was telling me they’ve been in a really bad place lately. Abby’s babysitter quit, so I might’ve offered for you to stop by and help a few times a week.” your mother said, saying it as fast as possible so you couldn’t object.

“Really, mom?” you said sounding annoyed. “You couldn’t have talked to me about this before throwing me into it?”

“Listen, it won’t be that bad. I told him you’d stop by after dinner to just try it out, no commitment. He’ll be there while you just hang out with Abby for a few hours, you know how she is.” Abby was a sweet kid, just a little quieter than other kids her age.

“Okay fine, I’ll go. No promises this will work out.” You replied as you walked to your room, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead of you.

An hour later you found yourself at the doorstep of the Schmidt’s. You hesitantly raised your hand to knock on the door. You waited a moment until the door swung open.

You saw Mike standing in front of you and he honestly looked like a mess. His dark hair was all over the place and his eyes looked tired as can be. He was wearing a black hoodie, the front pocket was falling apart, and jeans that had dirt stains all over the front.

“Hey, y/n, right?” he said.

“Yeah, my mom told me you needed someone to help look after Abby.” you said, getting a good look at his eyes. This was the first time you’d ever seen them in detail. They were brown with a few specks of green and hazel in them. They were actually pretty nice to look at.

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “I didn’t intend on accidentally hiring you for this. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s totally fine.” you said chuckling yourself, looking down at your hands. “I’ve been needing a job, so it’s kind of a blessing in disguise.”

“You’re in college right? You’re studying… what was it again?” your mom must’ve really given him the rundown.

”Cybersecurity, second year.” you said with a small smile, blush creeping up on your face. You never got used to people complimenting your accomplishments even though you had been an honors student since 3rd grade.

“Right, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“Anyways, feel free to come in, Abby should be somewhere around here.” he said as he moved out of the doorway, welcoming you into the home.

The house looked cleaner than you’d expected, given the state of the outside of it. It was pretty ordinary and plain. He walked towards the living room, where you could see Abby laying on the ground. There was a TV in front of her playing some kind of old cartoon. An assortment of crayons, markers, and other art supplies were sprawled all across the ground.

“Hey Abs, I want you to meet someone.” Mike said to the young girl. You walked over to stand beside him. “This is y/n, she’s going to hang out with you for a bit today, okay?”

“Hi Abby, it’s nice to meet you!” you said with a smile.

Abby looked at Mike as he spoke, then looked at you, back at Mike again, before finally going back to whatever she was drawing earlier.

“She’s gonna be a little shy at first.” he whispered to you. “Once you start talking to her she should hopefully open up a bit. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff around the house if you need anything.” he gave you a reassuring smile before walking away.

“What kind of drawing is that?” you said in an attempt to start conversation with the girl. She looked at you for a moment before looking back down. This is going to be a long night.

You decided that your initial approach wasn’t going to work. So, you got down to her level. You sat down next to her on the ground, grabbing a piece of paper and marker.

“I like drawing too, you know. Give me the name of any cartoon character and I can draw it for you.” you said softly.

She gave you a side eye, before turning her head towards your face. “Any character?”

“Yup, any character.” you said with a smile.

“Felix the Cat.” she said just before turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. This girl knows her stuff.

After a few minutes of sketching the character, you set the paper down in front of her. She paused her own work, taking the paper into her hands. She looked at you again.

“Can you draw Yogi Bear?” She commented while still looking at the sketch in her hands, sitting up just a bit straighter.

“Sure.” you said before grabbing more paper and markers.

Before you knew it, there was a large stack of drawings from the two of you featuring all sorts of characters ranging from Mickey Mouse to the Powerpuff Girls. The two of you had been doodling for almost 3 hours now, pausing every so often to talk about why they chose the characters they chose. The two of you were now discussing your favorite drawings of the night.

“I think my favorite is…” Abby began before thinking for a moment, “Courage the Cowardly Dog.”

“That’s a good one. Look at how good your drawing is!” you said to the young girl as you both laid on the ground flipping through the pages of art.

“Not as good as yours y/n!” Abby said to you, holding a stack of her favorites in her hands.

The two of you continued your conversation as Mike returned back to check in on you guys. He was genuinely surprised at how quickly Abby opened up to your company. He stood out of the girls sights for just a moment longer, taking in the sounds of laughter coming from both his sister and you.

“Hey Abs, it’s getting late, you wanna get ready for bed?” he said as he walked into the room.

“Mikeee!” Abby whined. “I’m having so much fun with y/n. Please can I stay up a little longer?”

“It’s okay Abby, I’ll be back again soon and we can do it all over again.” you reassured the girl with a smile.

“Do you promise?” she asked you.

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Of course!” you said with a laugh, pinky promising that you’d be back. Mike watched the interaction unfold with a smile.

“Alright, go get ready for bed, I’ll come tuck you in soon.” Mike told his sister.

“Bye y/n!” Abby shouted as she made her way to her room.

“So, how was she?” Mike asked you as you stood up from the floor, attempting to tidy up some of the mess you both made.

“Great, actually. I thought she adjusted fairly quickly. You’ve got quite the picasso on your hands.” you said as you quickly gestured to the now extremely messy floor.

“It’s one of the only things that keeps her entertained.” he said with a small chuckle. “But in all seriousness, I can tell she really trusts you. She hasn’t had a babysitter who actually cared for her like this in a while.”

“It was fun, I’m glad it seemed like she had a good time.” you said with a smile. “So when do you think you’ll need me here again?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“No that’s perfect. Already looking forward to it.”

“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“Seriously, I’m happy to help. I really did have a great time with Abby.”

“Tomorrow it is then.” he said before shuffling through his pockets for a few dollars, attempting to hand you them. “Here, take this for coming on such short notice.”

“Mike, it’s fine. I really don’t mind. You need it more than I do.” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?” he said, almost as if he had to convince himself it was okay.

“I’m sure.” you said as you headed towards the front door. “I think I’m gonna head out now.”

“Thanks again, y/n.” he said through the door as you walked out, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Of course, anytime. See you tomorrow.” you said with a small wave. You walked home with a different feeling inside. You knew taking this little job to help out the neighbor you never attempted to truly get to know was gonna be fun.

Mike shut the door after making sure you crossed the street safely, making his way to Abby’s room.

“Y/n is really fun, Mike.” she said as she pulled the covers over her body.

“That’s good, Abs.” he said as he grabbed one of her favorite teddy bears, handing it to her.

“I think we’re going to be best friends.” she said smiling at the new assortment of drawings she already managed to tape to her walls.

“You be nice to her, okay Abby?” he said to her. “I know how you can get, don’t screw this one up.”

“Okay Mike.” she said groaning, rolling her eyes slightly.

He shut off the lamp next to her bed, giving his sister a small kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Abby.”

He shut the door to Abby’s room, making his way back to the living room floor to clean up the mess that was still there. He grabbed one of the left over papers, admiring the assortment of characters on the paper. Right in the middle of it all were two stick figures which could only be assumed to be you and Abby.

He smiled at it, recognizing he had a good feeling about this babysitter. Not only because of how it could help Abby, but because he finally got the neighbor girl to break out of her own shell. Maybe it could even help him too.

[lingerina]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝓡𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 // kim minjeong

➛ gp prisoner!minjeong x prison warden fem!reader ➛ pwp, g!p, panty gagging, hair pulling, use of handcuffs, mating press, implied multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie ➛ 1k words ➛ you’re shown who’s the real prisoner here.

💬 a belated birthday present for the most deranged beloved winter stan @wintersera ♡

Nightfall has long shrouded the city in darkness, but what’s the difference between night and day when your work environment is darker than midnight woes?

You aspire to be like your aunt: authoritative, firm on her feet, and can rattle fear in even the toughest men.

Because unlike her, you’re soft. You fall apart when someone raises their voice at you. You may have gotten slightly better at keeping your chin up but you’re nowhere near your aunt’s level. A part-time job you worked in high school improved your social skills, so a challenging job where you may deal with some hardheaded individuals—like being a prison warden—should be able to toughen you up even a little bit, right?

You amble down the cell hall with a flashlight in hand. Most of the prisoners have fallen asleep, but you have a specific cell to visit.

Not that you need to.

Your eardrums almost vibrate from the deafening thumps of your racing heart, your clammy hand squeezing the flashlight to your chest as you come close to your destination.

Once you reach her cell, you shine the light directly into it and find her, Kim Minjeong, sitting in a chair in the middle of the small enclosure. Slouched, legs crossed and outstretched, and arms folded over her chest as she arches her brow, she smirks.

She has you wrapped around her finger, and you make no opposition.

“I thought you’d never come,” she chuckles.

The clank of the cell door locking reverberates. Maybe the cellmates several doors down can hear it, but you still wince due to how loud it is in your head. Not only does the pin-drop silence amplify every little sound, but you’re concerned that the prisoner you deliberately locked yourself in with may hear your heart threatening to leap out of your chest, and take advantage of your fear.

And excitement.

“Don’t be shy now. Come take a seat.”

It’s shameful. 

You acknowledge your weakness, but you didn’t realize just how low it can go. There’s no excuse for you to engage in relations with a prisoner, but something about Minjeong draws you in.

She’s gorgeous. She shows no sign of inflicting violence on you and doesn’t look down on you as some ‘little girl posing as a guard’. Though she’s heavily flirtatious, she still treats you like a human.

Except in this very moment where your own cuffs are around your wrist and your mouth is stuffed with your soiled panties. She was quick to get rid of your clothes, which have been thrown aside, but she still has her uniform on. You had taken a seat on her lap when she offered and now you’re bouncing on her cock. She’s occupied by your chest, curious hands squeezing your tits together while her lips are latched onto a nipple, sucking and tugging and flicking it with her tongue. Whenever you started slowing down, she’d tangle her fingers through your hair and tug.

Hard.

“Come on, baby.” She pouts. “You can do better.”

Except you can’t.

You’re certain you can’t. Your thighs are shaking—burning—and you can’t control your hands. You can’t balance properly, and you can’t rest for a second. Your pleas and grunts are muffled by the fabric gag. You look utterly pathetic, but Minjeong doesn’t sympathize. She only utilizes the power she has over you.

When you don’t improve, she carries you to her bed and tosses you down. Landing on your cuffed wrists is not ideal but you don’t dwell on it for too long when she presses your legs up to your chest. The pressure of your thighs being crushed against your abdomen nearly folds you in half. A new angle is offered and your eyes immediately roll back as she fucks you.

Her hips don’t slack. You feel the force of every thrust stretching you open and hitting all the right spots. You practically feel her in the pit of your belly from how hard she’s pounding you. Fortunately, the darkness masks your late night rendezvous because you know that one look into her piercing eyes would have you falling apart. To be looked at like prey is to experience a swift downfall.

You like being her prey.

You didn’t get to recuperate after your previous orgasm, so your next one quickly hits you. It crashes over you in waves and you gush around her cock, creaming her with a messy release. She groans as she’s forced out of your squirting pussy, the ample wetness soaking the edge of the mattress and spilling to the floor. You were certain you didn’t have that much to give, but she always proves you wrong.

She will always get as much as she wants.

You’re spent. Shaking. But never mind that. Minjeong is quick to slide back into you, courtesy of your overflowing slick, and your cunt is subjected to another round. You feel so close to breaking. You try to escape her grip but what use is there when you’re cuffed and possess only half the strength that she does?

Who’s the real prisoner here?

“Oh fuck,” she grunts between gritted teeth. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna fucking come, and you’re gonna take it all.”

Fulfilling her promise, she bottoms out. You’re beyond full of her dick, and now the warmth of her release floods your insides, filling you up in ways that no one else can. She draws back, then shoves back in, pushing her cum deeper into you. Slow and steady thrusts like that leaves your head spinning.

She slowly removes her softened cock with a delighted sigh, and you feel her cum dribble out of you. It pools onto the sheet beneath you and you lay there lifelessly, trembling and panting.

You hear the sound of a zipper. Minjeong didn’t step out of her uniform so it should be easy for her to fix herself up. You, on the other hand, have been completely unraveled. It will take much longer for you to get yourself together.

“You can rest a little more, but don’t stay in here for too long.”

She gathers your clothes and gently sets them at the edge of the bed. “Don’t wanna get caught fucking your prisoner, do ya?”

You laugh once you catch your breath. 

“… When do you get out again?”

[inkskinned]

one of the things about having an unstable parent is that it can so easily ruin your future. you want to get out, but getting out takes having agency. it takes the resume and the grades and the stellar community service history.

but you have to choose your battles. you know if you sign up for an after-school activity, it'll be okay for a while, so long as the activity is parent-approved and god-fearing. over time, like all things, it will become an argument (i can't keep carting your ass to these things) or a weapon (talk to me like that again, see if you get to go to practice). sometimes, if you love the thing, it's worth it. but you also know better than to love something: that's how they get you. if you ever actually want something, it will always be the center of their attention. they will never stop threatening you with it. telling you of course i'm a good parent, i came to all of those stupid events.

you learn to balance yourself perfectly. you can either have a social life or you can have hobbies. both of these things will be under constant scrutiny. you spend too much time with her, you should be at home with family is equally paired with you're acting like this because you're addicted to what's on that goddamn screen. you cannot ever actually win, so everything falls within a barter system that you calculate before entering: do you want to learn how to drive? if so, you'll need to give up asking for a new laptop, even though yours died. maybe you can work on a computer at the library. of course, that would mean you'd be allowed to go to the library, which would mean something else has to bleed. nothing ever actually comes free.

and that bitter, horrible irony: you could be literally following their orders and it still isn't pretty. they tell you to get a job; they hate that your job keeps you late and gives you access to actual money. they tell you to do better in school; they say no child of mine needs a tutor. they want you to stop being so morose, don't you know there are people who are really suffering - but they revile the idea you might actually need therapy.

you didn't survive that fall the way other people would. you've seen other people scramble and get their way out, however they could. maybe you were made too-soft: the answer didn't come to you easily. it wasn't quick. it was brutal and nasty. some people even asked you why didn't you just work hard and escape during school? and you felt your head spinning. why didn't you? (they control your financial aid. they control your loan status. they love having that kind of thing). maybe in another life you got diagnosed sooner and got the meds you needed to actually focus and got attention from the right teachers who helped you clear hurdles to get up out of here - but for now? here?

the effort of trying. the effort of not-dying. that kind of effort was absolutely agonizing.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 425: New Normal

Previously on BnHA: Everyone was all “and with that we conclude our final battle for better or worse!! We will now commence our slow return to the new normal, beginning with our protagonist and deuteragonist who are miraculously more or less intact, albeit exhausted and mildly traumatized. Also the words ‘more or less’ are kind of doing a lot of heavy lifting there.”

Today on BnHA: The Big 3 and Aoyama are OUT. Shinsou is IN. The Tododrama is PENDING, and the mysterious figure in the shadows is UNIDENTIFIED. Also class 1-A finally becomes class 2-A and it only took them 425 chapters and TEN LONG YEARS. Can you imagine if this series had actually run throughout their high school experience like people once expected. “THE YEAR IS 2044 AND MY HERO ACADEMIA IS FINALLY WINDING TO A CLOSE.” There’s an alternate universe somewhere where this actually happened and we were all so very, very tired.

This is once again a shorter than usual reaction summary post, as opposed to my typical page-by-page liveblog. Not gonna have time to do those for a while yet most likely, but like hell am I gonna miss out on the last days of the series, so here we are.

Once again basing this off of @pikahlua’s spoiler translation summary here!

watching the eighteen inch tall Rat Principal standing at a podium overseeing this graduation ceremony is surreal in the most wonderful way. it’s like receiving your diploma from a sentient Funko Pop

I love how they established that Mic sitting there screaming at the top of his lungs is also a beloved U.A. graduation tradition, and that the senpais just roll with it while everyone else is in varying stages of trying to decide if it’s too late to transfer to another school

ngl sometimes I forget that Ochako and Toga were actually the second canonical f/f ship in this series. shoutout to Hadou and her adorable girlfriend whose name I absolutely cannot recall

absolutely wild that Horikoshi gives credit to Rat Principal for coordinating the entire disaster recovery nationwide. are you serious. the “world-famous” Principal Nezu?? you’re telling me this little capybara is effectively the secret president of Japan now or something. when does he even sleep

“the principal made great contributions to quirk morality education” is also a VERY interesting tidbit that I really want to know more about. “hey guys what if we did a better job at teaching people not to be dicks with their quirks” AND JUST LIKE THAT JAPAN WAS SAVED huzzah

“we lost many things, but we gained nothing” is both HILARIOUS and soundly depressing, but I can see what he’s trying to get at. still an odd choice for a graduation speech though. “our job is all about harm reduction, and we couldn’t even do that this time around, but in the future we hope to balance things out and maybe even get some net positive impact going!” lmao. again it’s all true, and in all honesty it’s spectacular that they managed as well as they did, all things considered. and I guess it would have been disingenuous to just ignore the reality of everything this particular school body has been through and pretend like everything is great right now. but I still can’t help feeling like there was probably a more inspiring way to get this message across lol

regardless of what he says, Aizawa 100% either bribed or threatened Rat Principal behind the scenes in order to stay with his class. and will do so again next year. he can and will keep getting away with it. he is never leaving these kids

and the sheer relief from all of them upon hearing it is all the justification he needs. these kids have four thousand nine hundred and seventeen accumulated traumas among them. they don’t need a four thousand nine hundred and eighteenth. this man is their father ffs. MINA WAS CRYING AND EVERYTHING

Kacchan watched that YouTube video about a dozen times until he managed to tie his tie all on his own with the one hand. and he did an amazing job. he’s such a model citizen now

also it looks to me like he has his right arm hidden in a sling underneath his shirt, which is interesting. if I’m not mistaken (and I very well could be, since it’s been a hot minute since I did any BnHA timeline math), the final battle took place sometime in early May, so this chapter is taking place roughly one month later. the hospital chapter took place about a week after the battle, so it’s been about 3-4 weeks since then. I really want to know what kind of shape Kacchan’s arm is in, but I guess Horikoshi will get to it when he gets to it

also, “we all gotta be together today” was a real wakeup call to me in that it gave me just an absolutely ridiculous amount of feels. just a totally unreasonable amount. and it’s like. listen, self. Kacchan has completed his character growth arc. he’s a team player and a leader who loves all his friends and they all love him in return. we’ve known this for years now. it’s an established fact. you can’t keep bursting into tears or whatever every time he shows it. this is no way to live your life. I need an intervention

anyways later this evening class 2-A is gonna have a celebratory movie night in the common room, and Kacchan is gonna fall asleep two minutes in peacefully surrounded by all his classmates, and they’re all gonna nudge each other and smile fondly and cover him with a blanket and stay up until 2am and Aizawa will have no mercy on them the following morning. it’s gonna be so wholesome you guys

(ETA: I decided to go back and have some more feels about this one tiny Kacchan panel, because apparently the four paragraphs I already wrote about it weren't enough. so the thing is, Sero's wonderment at Katsuki being out of the hospital initially read to me as half bemused awe, and half "oh boy, time to get back into our usual rhythm of antagonizing Kacchan!" but my second time around, I can't help remembering that all of Kacchan's classmates got to watch this kid getting tortured and strangled and stabbed through the heart in 4K. like, even if they were busy with their own fights at the time, there's no way they didn't see the footage later on afterwards.

and that had to have been traumatic for them. their friend literally died and was just lying there so still for so long afterwards. and him getting better and going back to his usual asskicking self later on doesn't just erase those memories, you know? especially with him having lasting, permanent damage afterward. not just his arm, even! like who even knows if his heart is going to be okay long term. when people get organ transplants they have to go on immunosuppressants afterwards because otherwise their body will try to attack the replacement organ. so I wonder how exactly it works when it's still your heart, but it's being held together by various bits and pieces of a spindly little floss man. idk, but I bet you it's still pretty rough.

anyway so long story short, I'm now reading this as one-third bemused awe, one-third joking antagonism, and one-third genuine "no seriously, is it okay for you to be here, please don't do anything to put your health at risk because we seriously cannot handle you dying on us again." and Kacchan's not even disagreeing with him lol, which has to be the most concerning thing of all. "they said it's okay if I rest." even he knows he's pushing it, but it was too important of an occasion to miss. anyway please take it easy kiddo.)

Aoyama leaving makes me sad but it makes total sense for his character after what he’s been through. he needs time to sort things out and continue down his own personal honor-regaining journey. respect

also glad to hear that it was his own choice and that both Rat Principal and Nao would have supported him if he stayed. I still to this day do not understand Naomasa’s actual level of authority lol. like, he’s supposedly a detective, and yet he seems to be personally in charge of every single important police operation, on like a national level. and he has the authority to make decisions like letting Aoyama go free. he is the law, literally

Aoyama trying to feed Deku some farewell cheese also took me out. like he just walked in there and was all “sorry everyone, I’m leaving, but I’ll still aim for the path of a hero and will one day return, don’t you worry!” and at some point in the midst of this tearful speech he made a beeline directly to Izuku and tried to give him some cheese that he apparently just had in his pocket or something. and Izuku was all “YEAH!” all solemnly but HE DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH THAT POCKET CHEESE. like he loves you and accepts you for who you are Yuuga but COME ON

at this point in the chapter it also became clear to me that Aizawa has his hair up in some sort of loosely assembled messy bun and that’s why it looks so especially flowing and gorgeous today. this is great cinema

and then AT LONG LAST, the admission of Shinsou into class 2-A. they tried everything they could to keep him out, BUT NOT EVEN THE END OF THE WORLD COULD STOP HIM. his rightful place

Ojiro’s scandalized response to hearing Fuwa refer to Aizawa as “Era-sen”, and then Fuwa subsequently revealing all of Aizawa’s secrets and Aizawa getting flustered and kicking her out, was one of the most delightful sequences I’ve read. “nooooo don’t tell them that, what the hell am I gonna threaten them with now”

Izuku has not even attempted to crack a smile since the final battle, aside from when he was frantically trying to reassure Kacchan in the hospital. I’m worried about him but also loving this a little bit, ngl. I am content to wait for you to eventually have a proper breakdown, mister Greatest Hero

also I singled him out on the whole not-smiling thing, but really this is true for just about all of them. my heart aches :(

were there really so many people freaking out over Izuku’s hair that Horikoshi felt compelled to throw in that “HEY DEKU-KUN, YOU SHAVED YOUR HAIR LIKE THAT DUE TO AN INJURY, RIGHT? BUT IT’LL GROW BACK, RIGHT!?” line in there lol. the hilarious thing is that this chapter was already in the books before 424 was released, so it means that Horikoshi anticipated the backlash ahead of time. the man knows his audience

and now for this mysterious little barefoot man randomly emerging from some rubble somewhere. who are you. fandom already thinks you’re everyone from Tenko to Hisashi lol. my personal theory is that he’s just a random citizen who’s hurt and traumatized and needs help. and unlike what happened with baby Tenko once upon a time, this young man actually will be helped by a hero in his moment of need, and it’ll be all hopeful and stuff because SOCIETY IS CHANGING FOR THE BETTER NOW HOORAY

or maybe he really is Tenko, idk. what do I know lol. don’t listen to me

lastly, Shouto out here immediately leaving U.A. after class and ruining my dreams of a class 2-A movie night. FINE THEN. GO AND BE WITH YOUR FAMILY my precious little life preserver. and I’m actually really, really excited to see what their endgame is actually, so yes, Horikoshi, bring it on please and thank you

[ruddyhotelau]

Hey I read the post where you mentioned about 9 AU for justicestatic if u don't mind I would like to know about au even a short one liner is enough!!

I am really curious and love your Au!!

Ok till the moment I answer this question, the amount of AU increase to 14 AU =)))))))

Nate did draw sketches for some AU in the list, we will break it down for you.

1. Hellaver Secret

This AU started our Hellaverse Journal, it is the combination of Hazbin Hotel and an anime called Spy x Family. Mixing the lore of both media to create a plot that balances between fantasy and slice of life . The main couple in this AU is RadioApple, JusticeStatic is only a side dish that we came up with as a joke at first.

Basically, in this AU, Samael gave up his position as a Seraphim to become a normal human and changed his name to Lucifer. He's currently an assassin, a daughter he has with his long lost wife - Charlie, a telepath that can read people's mind and Lucifer form a fake marriage with a man named Alastor - a spy in disguise.

Michael is still an Archangel in this AU, he came down to Earth to bring his brother back to Heaven and somehow agreed to a business deal with Alastor's coworker - Vox. Even tho they hate each other, they still try to work things out because they both want to break the fake Morningstar couple.

2. Ruddy Hotel

You guy already knew about this one =)))

But yea, basically role swap AU

3. Band AU

This is a human AU. All the Heaven siblings decided to create a rock band called Octagrams. Michael is the drummer of the band and Vox at first was their anti, like the kind of anti that will stalk you from behind. Vox is actually a very successful businessman but he's also a stalker cuz c'mon, it's Vox.

4. Students AU

They are high school students in this AU, and yes, Vox is older than Michael in most of our human AU. In this AU, Vox is a 12 grader student while Michael is in grade 10. If anyone wondering then no, they are not dating till later when they're both legal adults with jobs.

Michael: I think you should give up on that school already.

Vox: Shut up kid, I'm trying to concentrate.

5. Hotel Supervisor

In this AU, Michael already knew Vox when the TV was still alive. Michael has to come down Earth to do his jobs and somehow Vox was his next-door neighbor. Long story short, they then fell in love but in the end, Vox died and became a demon in Hell. Then, one day, Michael got a direct message from God ordering him to come down to the hotel, keep an eye on it and decide whether the hotel deserved a chance to prove redemption is possible. Vox then knew about Michael's appearance at the Hotel... After a long time of thinking carefully, he decided to knock on the hotel's door.

7. The contract

Michael is currently having a headache about the last extermination, about his brother and his niece, about their resistance, which could cause a misunderstanding for Heaven and made God think they want to rebel against Heaven. Michael needed to know what was happening in Hell as soon as possible and Vox was the most suitable choice for this job.

8. Soulmate AU

When humans turn 18, some of them will appear a small mark at their wrist, the mark that represent their soulmate. But love has never been easy, not everyone with the mark can find their soulmate because all the mark does is glow when your soulmate is making love with someone that is not you and you will be able to feel a faint electric shock when you meet them. The mark will disappear the moment your soulmate passes away.

Vox got his mark when he was 18. Some of his friends were jealous of him but all he felt was empty and annoyed. If anything, Vox is never the one who trusts in destiny and fate. Same with his soulmate - Michael, Archangel Michael got his mark as a gift from God but he never paid much attention to it. He didn't understand why God gave him this? The idea of himself getting attached to someone on first sight is something Michael can't even imagine.

So they both waited for the day that their mark disappeared so they would no longer be bound to a stranger anymore.

But things never go as they expected...

Destiny must be crazy when it thought that tying an Archangel and a Sinner together was a good idea.

9. Get rid of you

Michael is currently a third year law student in this AU. One day, his younger sibling Gabriel thinks it's a good idea to fill that empty fish tank in his brother's house with some fish in some skeptical looking pet shop. Lilttle did the Morningstar siblings know the mini shark they picked up at the store that day was actually a demon in disguise.

10. Roommate AU

Vox, the Static Demon and Archangel Michael got summoned to Earth in another universe where Heaven and Hell didn't exist by a mysterious cult. Because they both came from the same universe so it's best that they stick together to survive in this familiar yet strange world. It took all of Vox's neuron nerve to convince Michael and after thinking carefully about his current situation, Michael knew he will have a better chance at getting back to his world if he co-operate with an Overlord and a better chance at blending in the human world with the help of someone who used to be a human. So even though he despised Vox's existence but for his future benefits, Michael is going to spare Vox's life.

So the two began to live together to find a way to come back to their world and to survive in this society without drawing any attention to their existence.

11. Guardian Angel

In this AU, all the siblings are the guardian angels for the humans.

Michael - Vox

Lucifer - Alastor

Raphael - Cherri Bomb

Gabriel - Niffty

Uriel - Husk

Jophiel - Velvette

Chamuel - Angel Dust

Azrael - Sir Pentious

Their mission is to guide their human on the right path but sadly, for Michael, he and his human are not getting along too well. Michael could only hope that he could get the guy to be 50% better at being a good person until the day Vox dies or else Michael is going to lose that promotion that he's always wanted.

12. Your Name

Inspired by an anime called "Your Name". Basically, it depicts the story of two college students, Michael and Vox, who suddenly swap bodies despite having never met the other, unleashing chaos onto each other's lives.

If you're wondering why they're doing weird expressions that doesn't match their personality is because in the pic, these two losers are swapping bodies, Vox in Michael's body and vice versa.

13. The Moving Castle

Inspired by an anime named "Howl's Moving Castle". Vox is an overly confident man who is cursed to have a demon body with a TV head by a spiteful witch. His only hope of breaking the spell is meeting a powerful, cold and distant wizard that travels around in his moving castle.

Michael's mind is filled with doubts when he sees Vox. He couldn't believe this vile man in front of him was the one he had been searching all alone and the one who could break his curse.

14. Apocalypse AU

Take place in the post-apocalypse world where almost everything was destroyed but with advanced technology. In this AU, Vox is a mad scientist and Michael is a soldier in a poor and small area.

So Michael and his siblings in this AU were all slaves when they were small. Some were sold to by dealer or black market and others came from a corrupted lab or were kidnapped. Because the 8 of them were locked in the same cage and all of them were around the same age so they got close with each other really quickly. (In this AU Michael and Lucifer are still twins) After knowing each other for a while, Lucifer came up with the idea that all of them should have a unique tattoo so even if they got split up in the future, they will still be able to recognize each other. So time passed, one by one was sold but the place collapsed before Michael got sold. And so he was able to escape then got adopted by a soldier.

Time passed, he became one of the protectors, an excellent and skilled soldier of the area. But one day, some people in the area started to go missing and Michael has been assigned the task of finding those missing people. And he was able to track Vox down. Vox noticed there has been some annoying rat following him lately, not to mention being the first to come this close to him in the first place. So he asked his old pal Alastor - a famous hitman to deal with Michael.

Then "BANG" - a clean bullet through the head, taking away Michael's life. Vox was not going to let Michael's body going to waste so what better way to reuse the body than to create a hybrid monster (The reason why Vox want to create a monster is because he remembered Al used to tell him a long time ago that he wondered how a monster tasted like. So Vox thought maybe if he created a monster and served it to Alastor, perhaps he could fix his relationship with Alastor)

So a monster was created and so did a broken screen. (Vox did change his screen later, don't worry) What will they face together afterward? What will the future hold? What kind of madness, wacky adventure and people awaiting them? It is something that they need to go through together in the future...

[subfootboii]

"Good morning."

"Is it a good morning, it Saturday I should be at bed not in the office doing extra work."

"Well at least it's just the two of us in the office."

"Lucky me."

Sam is your coworker, he always bullied you at work, and you never stood up for yourself. You enjoyed it especially when it is in front of other coworkers or boss. He is the tall charismatic guy your female coworkers had a crush on. Little did they all know you also did. Another secret was your foot fetish, you've never told anyone or did anything about it, but you fantasized about Sam's size 13 feet and daydreamed about them all the time.

You both started working and he made himself comfortable as he rested his feet on the desk facing you. This made you hard and less focused on your job. An hour in, he was asking you to get him stuff, prepare his breakfast, and clean his dishes. You complied with all his demands with a smile and a node. Halfway through you've barley finished any of your tasks, as his feet were taking all your focus.

"Go get me the stapler from that desk... Heyy buddy I'm talking to you."

He suddenly removed his feet from the desk and you realized what happened.

"Where you looking at my feet?"

"No... what? Did you need anything from me..."

"You freak were looking at my feet. Just when I thought you can't steep any lower."

"Why are you saying that? What do you mean?"

"Cut that bullshit off. I know you're faggot, look at how you'd anything to please me. But a foot faggot, you're so pathetic aren't you."

"No... let's just get back to work... we have to finish everything by today."

"That wasn't a question fag. Come to my side and kneel before me. Now."

You were never this scared in your life, you felt pathetic and worthless, but your dick was just getting harder than ever. You did what he ordered you to without thinking much of it.

"Yeah that's right fag. No need to lie to yourself anymore. I've had a fag in high-school and one in college, I know how to treat you well fag. Now, here's how things will work from now on, every single day you'll finish all my tasks before yours. I don't care how much overtime you work for yours. You'll address me as "Boss" even in front off our coworkers. Now I'll give you my feet to worship, but don't think you'll get them often. I might leave you my socks every now and then if you're a good fag. Now beg for my feet."

You bowed down and begged as he laughed.

"Please boss let me worship your feet. Please boss let be your fag. Please boss humiliate me. I beg you boss. I'm nothing but a lowlife faggot boss. I beg you boss make me your property."

"Pathetic, here lick my shoes clean."

His shoes were so dirty and smelly but that didn't stop you. You licked them both as hard as you can to make sure they're clean.

"Good fag, look at you taking your nutrients, maybe I should let you pass by my place and clean all my footwear. My college fag loved that."

You were so glad to hear that compliment, you made more effort in licking.

"That's enough shoes. Now take it off, I have a surprise for you."

You took his shoes off and he had no socks on, a stinky smell hit the whole office and made you almost faint. He laughed and pushed his foot on your face.

"Yeah I know you like that fag. Now you better clean them, you don't have much time. I texted my friends and they'll come and get me. I still have some tasks be sure to complete them then spend the whole night doing yours."

You didn't miss a second and attacked his feet, they were sweaty and big, his toes were perfect and his soles were soft.

"Well I guess that's it fag they're here, I have to go now."

"But boss I just started with your feet please give me some time."

He struck his foot against your face making you lose your balance and fall.

"A pathetic fag like you gets the opportunity to taste my feet and now you want more time, while fags would die to see my bare feet. I don't think you'll ever see my feet again faggot, and as a punishment I'll have your paycheck this month."

You knelt as he got his shoes on to leave and begged for forgiveness.

"I'm sorry boss. You're right. You always are, a faggot like me is lucky to be able to be kneel before you. I beg for your forgiveness boss."

"Yeah know your worth fag. For now, no foot duties to you. Let's see how good of a fag you are first."

"Yes boss. Thank you boss."

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 1/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: how did it all start? word count. 1.9k cw. marriage pact au, potential mature content a/n. this is my first time writing fic! hope you all enjoy this story! (♡ n pls let me know if you do enjoy them ♡) Masterlist

Every month, Motoya Komori, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and you meet up to catch up and enjoy each other's company. Surprisingly, despite the passage of time and the changes in your lives, you have managed to maintain your friendship well since high school. Your bond remains strong, bolstered by frequent chats in your group chat, where you exchange life updates.

Now you’re all in your late 20s, with you and Sakusa the same age, 27 years old, and Motoya a year older. Each of you is navigating your own unique path in life. Motoya Komori, always the cheerful one, shares his latest thoughts and plans. "Nothing much," he says with a grin, "just thinking about coaching some kids in my block." Then, he adds, "Mia thinks that’s a good idea too," his eyes light up when he talks about his wife, his smile widening. It's been a year since their wedding, and he’s never been happier. He met his wife during an open trip to Europe in his early 20s, a serendipitous encounter that changed his life forever.

Sakusa, on the other hand, often brings up his ongoing struggle with his fame. "I keep trying to decline gifts from fans," he admits, a hint of frustration in his voice. Despite his attempts to maintain some semblance of normalcy, his popularity often complicates things. 

It’s no wonder you think that Kiyoomi is popular among women. A single, talented man who looks dedicated to his career is bound to attract attention. People on the internet often compliment his looks too. Standing at 6’4” with a lean build, his black wavy hair adds to his appeal. You can imagine his struggle a bit—balancing his demanding career with the expectations and attention from fans and potential romantic interests alike.

As for you, you share your own challenges of juggling your main job with multiple side jobs. It’s a constant balancing act, trying to manage everything without letting anything fall through the cracks. Yet, despite the hectic schedule, you find solace in these monthly meet-ups, a reminder of the enduring friendship that has weathered the storms of life.

“Why do you have to do several jobs?” Komori asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

You chuckle lightly and start explaining the reality of life outside the athletic world. “Well, life actually works a bit differently for non-athletes,” you say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. You go on to explain that you're still early in your career, and your current job is only a mid-paying one. “I need some more money to cover my living costs and to send some to my retiring parents,” you add, your tone growing more serious.

Komori listens intently, nodding in understanding. He realizes that while his career path as a professional athlete offers certain financial stability and perks, your situation requires juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet and support your family.

Komori agrees with your statement about the high living costs, even for him. You continue, “Well, now that I think about it, in this economy, for average people, I think marriage helps a lot in a financial way. I mean, by having two incomes in the household. If we didn’t put children into the equation, though, maybe.”

Komori agrees, “Well, maybe that’s true. But I don’t know much about that since my wife stays at home. But financials aside, having someone to come home to… I don’t know how to put it. But it’s less lonely and, y’know? Feels like someone always has my back no matter what.”

Sakusa interjects, “But you don’t have to get married, you know? You can just move in with your girlfriend.”

Komori shakes his head, “I don’t know, man. It’s a different sense of security.”

You chime in, “Ooh, I get it. Maybe it’s kinda like… all these paperwork you sign? So, it feels verrrry official?” You raise your eyebrow, prompting Komori to laugh.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just happy and secure. That’s all I feel,” he says with a contented smile.

You sigh and slam your hand on the table, “Man, I don’t even think about that. I just think it’s nice to split rent and chores with someone.”

Komori hums at your statement, then turns to Sakusa. “What do you think, Omi?”

Sakusa shrugs, “I just think being married makes it more convenient for me to politely decline some of the persistent and creepy fans.”

You chuckle, “Ha. Ha. Okayyy starboy. Totally not relatable.”

Komori adds thoughtfully, “Hey, in a sense, that applies to you as well in terms of being more secure when walking at night. Ward off some creepy men, y’know?”

You nod, a wry smile on your face, “Hey! That’s so fucking true. Pfft, I hate the world that we live in.” You sip on your drink, finding a moment of solidarity in the shared laughter and understanding.

“Okay. Now this conversation made me want to get married. But I can’t even afford a relationship right now. Trying to start a relationship is too urgh,” you say, scrunching your nose. “Too many steps to deal with. And don’t even talk about the emotional roller coaster! It’s just too tiring!”

You used to be a hopeless romantic at heart, dreaming of the day you would meet that one person, your prince charming. Falling in love so hard that your head feels dizzy, experiencing all those cute butterflies in your stomach, and seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses due to the happiness of love.

However, the idea seems more and more impossible as you grow older. Reality has hit you hard. Maybe it’s just bad luck, but you’ve never been lucky in your romantic life. It’s not like no one wants you; there are men who approach you. But the ones who do either don’t meet your standards or turn out to be douchebags when you try to get to know them better and pursue more, leading to frustrating situationships. It’s exhausting to be attached to them and constantly ride an emotional roller coaster.

Moreover, you can’t think of anyone or any way to meet someone new at the moment. You’re not keen on the idea of dating apps either, as you feel like you’re not that fun in chat, and it just feels too unnatural to meet someone new that way. Especially a potential lover. Damn all these standards you’ve set for yourself!

Sakusa speaks up, “I get that, and I don’t understand what girls want either.” Sakusa doesn’t usually talk much during your discussions, but he enjoys listening to you and Komori's thoughts. Right now, he finds himself agreeing with you on the topic. Everyone knows that Sakusa isn’t the most socially adept person. He doesn’t easily make new friends, despite knowing many people from all the training, practices, and matches he has been involved in. However, he can't exactly call them friends. That's why he treasures this friend group, even though one of its members is literally his cousin. It’s something he can describe as “cousins by blood but friends by choice.”

Given this, it’s not hard to understand why it’s not easy for him to have a romantic relationship either. He can be attracted to someone—he experienced it several times during his school days, having little “relationships” that lasted only a few months. But these days, it’s getting harder to form meaningful connections. Lots of girls try to approach him, fans and acquaintances alike. Some have piqued his interest, but nothing has gone beyond a few dates. So, he truly gets it when you say it’s tiring.

“What?! So you don’t understand me?” you exclaim.

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “No, I understand you. It’s different. We’ve known each other since high school.”

“Ha. Right,” you reply with a hint of sarcasm.

Komori is silent, looking at both of you intently. He clears his throat, “Hey, you know, right? There’s something called platonic marriage?”

Sakusa stares blankly. “What’s that?”

“I know!” you chime in. “It’s like you’re married, but you’re not actually involved romantically.”

“Oh. I’ve heard of them. Interesting, I guess,” Sakusa responds.

“Yeah. It’s like you can get the marriage benefits without having to deal with all the emotional roller coasters that relationships give you,” you explain.

“True. But it’s too creepy and risky, right? To marry some random strangers?” Komori folds his arms and laughs.

You give a distasteful expression and respond quickly, “Of course! I wouldn’t dream of it. If I ever wanted to do a platonic marriage, it would be with someone that I know quite well.”

The three of you suddenly become silent. Komori smirks at you and Sakusa.

“What are you even implying?!” you demand.

“Hey! It’s not crazy, though! You mentioned it yourself.” He makes quotation marks with his fingers. “It would be with someone that I know quite well.”

You widen your eyes. He’s right, you think. But still, it’s borderline crazy and something that never crossed your mind. Sakusa? And you?! Sure, you think he looks good. But then again, you’ve never considered any of your friends ugly! Moreover, you’ve always seen him as your friend since the beginning. Which… is actually the definition of platonic. It’s perfect! Shit… But Sakusa would never agree with this kind of thing… right?

You steal glances at him. Fuck. He actually looks like he’s thinking about it. It’s not the usual indifferent face he’s making. He’s thinking. Wow. Years of friendship really do give you the ability to differentiate his micro-expressions.

“Look. It’s just… an idea. A good idea, can I say?” Komori wiggles his eyebrows and smiles proudly. “Given you guys’ predicaments. It’s like the stars aligned, y’know? I’ll definitely support you guys. There. You guys have my blessing,” he laughs.

You and Sakusa exchange quick glances. He shows a lack of repulsiveness. Now that you think about it, this thing actually fits him. But does he really think it is a good idea?

“Some friends do make marriage pacts or whatever it’s called,” Komori adds.

Oh, right. You definitely have heard about that. Something like if we’re not married by the age of… we should marry each other.

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard something like that. But isn’t it complicated?” you ask.

“What would be complicated? It’s all for convenience, right?” Komori replies.

“That’s just insane, though…” you mutter.

You all go silent for a bit but then you try to change the topic and continue to talk about other trivial life updates. Other things that aren’t awkward and, again, crazy to think about. Your mind isn’t ready to handle the full visualization, especially with Sakusa right in front of you.

After another hour, you and the other two decide to head home. You still have to work tomorrow, after all. Urgh, the work thoughts on Sunday are the worst. These meet-ups with Sakusa and Komori always prove to be very recharging to your mental battery. You’re so glad to have this monthly meet-up with your two precious friends.

On your way home, you replay the conversation you had earlier about the platonic marriage and can’t help but think of how good of an idea it is. The words “financial” and “someone to come home to” ring in your head. Shit. You do often feel lonely in your apartment nowadays.

If you ever agree to do something like a platonic marriage, the idea of being married to Omi doesn’t sound bad at all. Your very dear friend since high school. Someone you’ve known for more than 10 years. Someone who knows your antics and vice versa. He can be a pain in the ass a lot of times, insensitive at times. But the good thing is that you can be blunt with him. He might be an ass, but he does always listen whenever you scold him for anything insensitive he does.

But anyway, it’s just an idea. It will be forgotten, right?

Spoiler: No, it’s not.