#it really should be shared with someone but i'm lonely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idyllic-affections · 7 months

Text

little colt.

summary. xianyun cannot help but take in another child. perhaps, in the future, they may become a disciple of hers.

trigger & content warnings. none applicable.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, found family-ish. xianyun & child!reader. 2k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next.

author's thoughts. bird mom propaganda RAHHHHHH btw if you find a typo no you didn't i'm sleepy but i wanted to post this........

Cloud Retainer has taken on many disciples in her time, and she has loved each and every one as if they were her own.

It was, therefore, quite unlikely that she woukd cease to take on disciples anytime within the forseeable future. Her love was extensive, far beyond what most mortals would be able to comprehend, and her capacity for intimate and tight bonds was even moreso. She has taken on many disciples over the years, and she has loved them all like her own children.

Perhaps it could be attributed to her adeptal instincts; she can recall many a time during which her fellow adepti, upon bonding closely with another being, became exceedingly protective of them. It was only natural—adepti lived for so long and were often affected by their more nonhuman instincts. It wouldn't be improbable to imagine that the need to bond with other beings would grow strong over so many years.

...Then again, it could always simply be attributed to her. In her mind, there was little need for any such justification like 'instincts.' She could scoff at the idea—she was no mere animal. 'Instincts' could not begin to fully explain the depth of her love and care; it was surely infinitely more complicated than the mere maternal urges that a simple crane, a wild animal, might have. She was infinitely more intricate and convoluted than an uncomplicated bird.

(That, however, did not change the fact that she did tend to have bird-like habits. Preening, nesting in her own way... She preferred not to bring attention to that fact, however.)

Regardless of the reason, the truth was that she was lonely, even if she vehemently denied it whenever someone brought up the idea. Mt. Aocang was... quiet, dreadfully so without the constant presence of Ganyu or Shenhe or any of her other disciples. She enjoyed the silence to an extent, but she could only entertain herself for so long without another being to share her knowledge with. Liyue Harbor was far more lively. Loud and chaotic at times, perhaps, but far less lonely than the empty nest that her adeptal abode had become.

Maybe that was why she was so immediately invested in the little one who had accidentially bumped into her and was now apologizing profusely.

"I'm— I'm so sorry, miss! I wasn't watching where I was going! I really didn't mean it, I..."

'What a swift little thing,' she couldn't help but muse. She'd hardly even spotted them rushing her way before they tumbled into her legs. Their body weight wasn't even enough to make her stumble—if anything, they were the one that ended up getting thrown off balance. It was cute how small they were compared to her, really; it reminded her of Shenhe when she was a child, or even her current disciple, Shuyu.

Ah... but she shouldn't be so quick to think fondly of them. No, surely this little one had parents of their own—a life of their own—to return to. She did not even know their name. No. Bonds should not be so quick to form.

With elegant, poised grace akin to a gentle breeze rustling a tree's leaves, she knelt down, the motion putting an end to their sheepish yet hurried apologies. Glossy, innocent eyes stared up at her—even kneeling, Xianyun was still a bit taller than they were—with an amount of awe that would've made her feathers puff out in pride had she been in her illuminated beast form. She was not one to grow embarrassed at admiration, after all.

"Where are your caregivers, child?"

"Oh. Um." Their brows furrowed slightly. "...I don't know, actually."

"Ah, are you lost? Come, then. One— Ahem. I shall reuinte you with them. I am certain they must be quite frantic in your absence."

Before she could rise and offer her clawed hand to them, they urgently shook their head.

"Oh, no! It's not like that, miss. Even if it was, I wouldn't want to trouble you at all! I would find my way back!" they insisted politely, waving their hands in front of their body as if to dismiss her concerns (though, Xianyun hardly thought it would be "troubling"; she was a bit surprised that they felt it so, or perhaps they were really just trying to be polite). It was then that she noticed the little wooden chick held carefully in one of their hands, but she did not yet have the opportunity to inquire about it. "I've been on my own for as long as I can remember, that's all."

Oh?

Oh.

"Hm. Is that so?"

"Uh-huh."

"In that case, child, I—"

A man rounding the corner and immediately prevented her from finishing her sentence. He was very clearly furious, approaching the child with such fervent determination that Xianyun could not help but wonder what nature of a troublemaker she must have encountered. Though... she really did not see them that way, which only made her infintely more curious about rhe situation at hand.

Their expression seemed to fall.

"You, kid!" he shouted, stopping just a foot or two away from them. "You can't just go around stealing whatever you please! Who raised you?!"

"No, I..." They could not meet his gaze. "I was gonna bring back more mora to make up for it when I could, I just—!"

"Don't give me excuses. I want the toy you've stolen returned, you understand? Hand it over!"

Xianyun sighed, adjusting her glasses.

"Enough," she said, rising to her feet. "How much mora will suffice? For reparations, of course."

"Rep— reparations?" the man stuttered, then sighed. "No, no... look. You're the mom? Just teach your kid not to go around stealing. The toy's not worth much, but a kid who starts stealing this young will take far more important things in the future. So, teach 'em not to do it."

Hiding behind Xianyun's legs, they couldn't help but stare upwards in wonderment. His attitude flipped completely when faced with a woman so much taller than he was, and with an air surrounding her that demanded such an impossible amount of respect. They honestly could not blame him for such an attitude change; they would too, they thought, if they were faced with someone like her.

"Very well. You have my apologies on their behalf." She turned on her heel, holding out her hand to them. "Let us go, little colt."

Colt?

Bewildered but nonetheless beyond awestruck with this strange yet kind woman, they nodded, wordlessly placing their freehand in hers. Her sharp, hooked nails dug slightly into their skin; somehow, though, they couldn't be bothered to care. It didn't hurt much. On the contrary, it was oddly comforting.

The walk was silent for a few moments, but then, Xianyun's voice demanded their attention:

"You should pay quite the mind to your behavior in the future. Theivery is a significant offense in a land such as this—a land that regards contracts with the highest of respect. Had I withheld my intervention, it may very well have ended far worse."

"I really didn't mean to," they whispered, little tears building up in the corners of their eyes. Even though she was someone they had only just met a few moments ago, disappointing her seemed... unbearable. Angering her would have been more tolerable. "Um... steal, that is. I didn't mean it. I just thought it looked really cool. I left whatever mora I had on me to pay for it, and I was going to try and get more so I could pay him the right amount... I swear I wasn't going to just run away with it..."

She hummed. "Regardless of your intent, I will see to it that you do not do such a thing again."

"Hu— huh? You will?"

She scoffed. "Of course. Surely you did not expect me to abandon you on the side of the street again? As an elder, it is only right that I watch over little ones such as yourself, and little ones should not be cruelly left to fend for themselves."

The tears on their lashes had dried by now. They even offered her a smile, giggling as they said, "Elder? I don't think you're old."

"Oh? And what, pray tell, has led you to such a bold conclusion, hm?"

"Well... you! You look very young, miss! I think elder women are very pretty too, but you look... young pretty? Um... what's the word again..?"

"Youthful, perhaps?"

"Yeah! Youthful!"

As they rambled on animatedly, clutching the wooden bird to their chest, Xianyun's lips quirked upwards into an amused smile.

It, of course, went unnoticed by them.

— flower of the universe !! 🌸

In the few days that had passed since Xianyun welcomed little [Name]—they had bashfully introduced themselves to her in the middle of their rambling once they recalled that she didn't even know their name, and she returned the sentiment with greater confidence—into her home, she had put together a few simple toys for them to amuse themselves with.

She was an inventor at heart. Even though these designs were not entirely her own, she made them hers with unique additions and more efficient features... of course, all while doing her best to keep the toys simple. They were for a child, after all. Mechanics, Xianyun's mechanics, were complicated enough for adults to understand as it was—a child would surely have even less of a capacity to grasp something too complicated, and her efforts would therefore have been wasted.

...But oh, how terribly wrong she now understood herself to be.

Quietly and motionlessly, as to avoid drawing their attention, she watched with the growing warmth of fondness and excitement in her chest as the young one she took in meticulously pried open the toys she handcrafted.

They were humming to themselves, gingerly laying out the parts in an organized manner so that nothing got lost or mixed. She was beyond impressed with the careful thought they had blatantly put into keeping track of everything; Xianyun was certain that most children would lose a small part or two, but as she surveyed their layout, she noted that every single piece—big or small, hard to overlook or easy to lose—was accounted for.

Childish forgetfulness wasn't an inherently bad thing. In fact, it was quite amusing and endearing to those such as herself who had lived for so many millennia.

However, she was infinitely more endeared by their sheer mindfulness.

Their sharp gasp snapped her from her internal musings.

"Oh— Miss... Miss Xianyun! I'm sorry, I—" They stumbled over their words, and they froze up somewhat. It was as if they wanted to hide what they had done but ultimately decided against it; she had clearly already spotted them, and they did not want to risk mixing up all the parts. "Miss Xianyun, I'm so sorry, I— I wasn't trying to destroy them, I just—"

"—wanted to understand their internal workings, yes?"

Their eyes went wide with that same wonderment they had displayed towards her a few days prior. "How... how did you know?"

She almost laughed at their cluelessness. "You have taken them apart with the care and delicacy quite unusual for one of your age. This, one surmises, is only because you sought to sate your curiosity regarding these simple mechanisms and their internal functions."

The grace with which she carried herself never failed to leave them in astonished silence. Xianyun hummed, sweeping them up into her arms as if they weighed no more than a feather (her utter, raw strength was another astounding feat in their young mind; she was so unimaginably admirable in a multiplicity of ways to them). Then, with steady caution, she kneeled to the floor and situated them comfortably in her lap.

"Allow one to introduce you, little colt, to the basics of mechanics."

Xianyun, they concluded, was an odd but genuinely kind woman.

Though her manner of speech was sometimes strange and formal, and her grace seemed otherworldly in its nature, and her strength was assuredly not a feat that just anyone could achieve...

She was tender. She was kind. She cared.

Perhaps the world was not always so kind, but despite that knowledge, they had never felt safer than where they were now.

please consder reblogging with a kind tag or comment, it helps me out quite a lot! mama xianyun series taglist: @zeldadou, @starryshinyskies, @soleillunne, @lillonvia, @nervocat, @dragon-type-nuggetz, @starlit-dianthus. contact me non-anonymously to be added.

#aphelion writes 🌸#astronetwrk #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x child reader #platonic x reader #platonic genshin #genshin child reader #genshin platonic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x child reader #genshin impact x you #xianyun x reader #cloud retainer x reader

807 notes · View notes

delaber · 2 years

Text

A Date (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: you have a date and Bucky’s not exactly happy about it.

Words: 3.8K

Trope: friends to lovers 💞 with a jealous Bucky trying his best to be brave, and failing horribly.

Notes: another fluff piece to mend Bucky’s heart ❤️ honestly, I have a problem with all these fluffy fics I’ve been writing recently. I just cannot stop myself lol.

"You have a date?" he manages to splutter just before the panic takes over and makes his heart skip a few beats.

Fuck!

A fucking date?!

His fingers are slipping on the wet handle of the pan he's in the midst of cleaning, and in that moment, all he can think about is how happy he is that he's currently bent over the kitchen sink so you can't make out the shocked expression on his face.

You're nodding beside him, playing with the dishtowel you're holding but Bucky can hardly make out what you're saying when you return his question with a quiet "yeah".

His ears are ringing bells and he just wants to get the fuck out of there.

Silently, he's begging for you to stop talking. He doesn't want to know more. Doesn't want to hear what you've agreed to and who you're... - fuck, what if it's someone he knows?

What if it's Sam?!

Shit!

The panic in Bucky's chest runs amok! If he walks in on his two best friends fucking, he's gonna kill himself!

With dread, he realises that he has to know how careful he needs to be around the compound...

"With - uh - with whom?" he clears his throat and curls his toes in prepared mortification, his narrowed gaze firmly fixed on a wet piece of broccoli that's lying lonely and sad at the bottom of the sink.

Please don't say Sam, please don't say Sam...

"You know the cute guy from the coffee shop?" you answer proudly, and it makes Bucky's heart spring violently back to life. That guy??? "- he finally asked me."

Well, it's not Sam - yet somehow, it's worse.

Deep breath, he tells himself and plasters on a neutral expression as he looks up from the pan and directly into your eyes.

At least you look excited, he concludes as he takes in your dreamy little smile that's usually reserved for when vibranium fingers briefly brush over your warm skin but that he now has to share with... him. The moron in the green apron. Mr I'm-too-busy-flirting-with-your-girl-to-get-your-order-right.

Fuck, he's burning up!

"That's great, sweetheart," he hears himself croak from far away, trying his best to sound like he's happy for you and not as if his heart is in the process of being ripped out of his chest. "I'm real happy for you."

"Thanks, Buck," you playfully bump your hip against his while looking down at your hands as you once again twist the towel between your fingers.

You seem almost... nervous. This date must really be a big deal to you.

He gulps and pushes away another incoming wave of nausea. It's not as if he hasn't long ago accepted that nothing will ever happen between the two of you. You're friends. That's it.

"Are you excited?" He asks without really knowing why. He doesn't want to hear your answer. To hear you verbally confirm the look you already have on your face.

Slowly you look up at him and he has to chomp down on his inner cheek to keep himself from doing something stupid.

"You know what?" you ask quietly with a tilt of your head and Bucky's heart starts racing even harder. "- I actually am."

Even you sound surprised - not that Bucky can really blame you.

"Mmh," he merely hums and pretends there's a particularly stubborn area on the dirty pan that needs his attention.

"Is that weird?" You ask.

He can feel how the sincere question in your voice laces itself around his abdomen, squeezing him tight.

Is it wrong of him to want to snap the stupid piece of teflon-coated metal in his hand in half? You're his best friend and he should just be happy you're happy.

Fuck it, he is happy! He loves you more than anything and you deserve to feel this way - he just wishes it was because of him and not someone else.

"No, sweetheart," he mumbles, trying to untie the invisible knot behind his navel as he starts scrubbing again. "Why would it be weird?"

Thankfully, you don't answer.

...

Cold droplets of water are running over your forehead and down the length of your nose, desperately trying to reduce the tension that's been resting right between your eyebrows since your conversation with Bucky last night.

Splashing your face with water is a stupid attempt to make yourself feel better - you know that - it hasn't worked the other times you've tried it and this must be the tenth attempt since you woke up this morning. The only thing that'll truly help is if Bucky would tell you what's going on.

He's been acting weird since last night, and even though you aren't sure what reaction you'd been hoping for, this definitely isn't it. You know he isn't exactly the biggest fan of the man who's taking you out for dinner later, but getting so annoyed he can barely uphold a conversation? Well, that wasn't really a scenario you'd even considered at all...

You suppose you could just tell him the truth - maybe that would make him more accepting of your choice of date - but it's not as if you can really tell him that the only reason you're going on that date to begin with is to force yourself to get over, well, him.

You've known Bucky two years now and apart from small moments here and there, nothing's happened. It's been two excruciating years full of pining and painful almosts and ifs but he clearly doesn't look at you that way and you don't want to keep putting yourself through the heartbreak. You deserve to spend your friday nights with someone who actually sees you for what you are: beautiful, smart, desirable, a woman.

And as you stand looking at yourself in the mirror, you realise that you need this date to get Bucky out of your head. Fuck if he doesn't approve of the cute guy from the coffee shop. It's none of his business who you're going out with and if he wants to be annoyed about it, then so be it.

Yet you still cannot stand the thought of him sitting by himself all night. He hasn't seemed like himself all day and you know how he can spiral over the smallest of things.

Thus, you check for Sam in the kitchen, the gym, and in the spa area in the basement of the compound, but eventually find him in the common room on the third floor, completely hypnotised as he stares at the television screen in front of him, the playstation controller grabbed tightly in his hands.

You do a quick scan around the room to confirm that it's just the two of you before you approach him. "Wilson, have you seen Bucky today?"

"Bucky? Uh - no," Sam mumbles without moving his gaze away from the animated character who's running through an abandoned city. "I assume you've already tried the dark cave he calls his room?"

"I know where he is," you sigh and flop down on the sofa next to him, stretching your legs and putting your feet in his lap. "I was just hoping that maybe you'd talked to him."

He doesn't answer apart from a few incoherent noises you're sure are for the game and not for you, so you poke at the controller with your toes to get his attention. "Sam..."

"Hey! I'm trying to save humanity from a zombie apocalypse here. Keep your stinking feet away from me," he playfully flicks the underside of your foot without sparing you a glance. "I already told you I haven't seen your siamese twin all day."

"Yeah, but do you think you could... go check on him maybe?"

"I'm busy. You go check on him."

"Sam..."

At the sound of your soft-spoken words, Sam sends you a brief side-eye before he finally tosses the controller down on the sofa table with a loud sigh. "What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything," you shake your head innocently. Is it really your fault that Bucky is too childish to accept the man you're going out with? No.

Sam runs his eyes over you and squints hard. "You guys are usually so dependent, you're practically joined at the hip. And now you want me to go talk to him even though you didn't do anything?"

"Look, he's being weird," you sigh, "- can you just check on him? Please? Maybe have a guy's night in with beer and that stupid zombie-game you're always playing or whatever?" you gesture to the television screen where the character from before stands panting, saying random stuff every few seconds. "I don't want him to be alone."

"First of all, The Last of Us is not stupid!" Sam raises his index finger at you, feigning an insulted huff. "Secondly; a guy's night in..? While you're doing exactly what if I may ask?" he arches an eyebrow, urging you to keep talking.

"I - uh - I have plans," you say quickly and try and look determined although you can feel your entire face heating up. "...a date of sorts."

The dead-panned look on Sam's face is quickly wiped off, instead replaced with an annoyingly broad smirk. "You have a what now?" he chuckles teasingly.

"You heard me," you roll your eyes.

"Oh I heard you loud and clear," he hoots, "you are going on a date!" he says, emphasising the last word with a wriggle of his eyebrows.

"Don't be a dick about it."

"My, oh my. We're finally gonna see what kind of man that can sweep the rug from underneath you."

"Okay, I'm leaving," you make a move to stand up, but Sam interrupts you by putting his palm to your shin.

"Come on, I'm just teasing," he laughs, "tell me about your date. Who's it with? - Not Bucky, I assume."

"Why would I go on a date with Buck?" you shrug nonchalantly although you can once again feel the heat radiating through your every feature. "It's the cute blonde from the coffee house down the street."

"Oooh, the guy who looks like a young Brad Pitt but with humour?"

"That's the one," you press down on your lips and avoid looking directly at Sam. God, this is embarrassing.

"He's a cutie!" Sam teases with a chuckle.

"I know," you play with a loose thread on your shirt, avoiding his eye.

"Then why aren't you more excited about it?" He asks but immediately emits a groan, "Jesus... do not tell me it's because of Bucky?!"

"I'm worried about him," you whine and bury your face in the sofa cushions.

Sam rolls his eyes. "You're going on your first date in forever and you're worried about that sourpuss?"

"Sam, you didn't see the look on his face when I told him about it! He hates the guy - I think it really upset him."

"Of course it upset him," Sam scoffs, "It's like taking candy away from someone who really wants to fuck said candy!"

Your eyes snap over to Sam in an instance. Completely taken off guard, your voice dies in your throat. Did he just...? No, surely, you must've misheard.

"Come on, don't pretend you haven't noticed," Sam groans, "I swear to god, he's two days away from crawling behind you just so he can lick the ground you're walking on!"

The earth has stopped spinning. "W-what?"

"The puppy eyes? The 'pick me' behaviour?" he rolls his eyes at your shocked face.

Your heart starts pounding so fast you can barely keep up. "Are we talking about... Bucky? As in our Bucky?"

"Uh, huh," Sam nods as if it's the most obvious thing on the planet. "That guy's practically begging you to take him by the hand and lead him to your bed. He's so in love with you, it's disgusting to look at."

"He's what?!" You exclaim loudly, completely out of breath. This is definitely news to you! "No, no, no! Bucky's not in love with me, we're friends," you pant with the blood rushing past your ears.

Sam shoots you an unimpressed side-eye, "yeah keep telling yourself that"

"What do you mean?" you pant, trying to puzzle together Sam's suspicion with your disbelief.

"I swear to god, the two of you don't even have a single brain cell put together..." he rolls his eyes, "I've seen that boy almost snap his neck because you were laughing and he wanted to know what you were laughing at. Trust me when I say that he's not annoyed that you're going on that date - he's jealous."

Well... fuck!

...

You don't think you've ever been this nervous as you pace the hallway outside Bucky's bedroom. You've been here ten minutes now, desperately trying to force yourself to actually make contact with him, but you're holding yourself back. There's so much on the line and what if Sam's incorrect? Then, you will truly have mucked up and everything between you and Bucky will be ruined.

Shit!

You stop pacing. You can hear his favourite album from the forties playing on the other side of the wall but apart from that, there hasn't been a single sound from in there.

You pray he's in a better mood than when you walked in on him angrily hunched over his bowl of cereal this morning, but the fact that he put on the only type of music that can calm him down, doesn't really scream 'put-together'.

It makes you even more nervous though you know you have to talk to him at some point. It's not as if you can avoid him forever - so before you can truly think about the upside of postponing the inevitable conversation, you raise your knuckles and carefully knock on his door.

Everything inside you tenses up. You vision becomes blurry, and you seem to automatically focus all your attention on the sounds coming from inside his room. There's a short shuffle, a sigh and then an irritated "what?!" muttered from somewhere behind the walls.

This is bound to go wrong.

You consider running away and pretend you've never even been near his room, but it's too late to back out now. You have to talk to him at some point, you remind yourself.

With your nerves running wild and the blood pumping through your every vein, artery, and fibre, you open the door a little and poke your head inside his room with a small "hi," your throat so dry it comes out as a hoarse whisper.

He's sitting on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles, his hand buried inside a book that's lying closed in his lap. He looks angry at everything and everyone - as if he's minutes away from strangling someone - but when he finds your eyes from across the room, the tense muscles in his cheeks seem to unclench a little.

"Oh, hey," he breathes and runs a hand through his hair in embarrassment, licking his lips. "I thought you were Sam..."

You smile, so relieved to see him softening that you automatically step inside his room without waiting for him to ask you to. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You're not," he shakes his head with a small gulp, "I thought you'd left already. Don't you have that big date?" he asks in a weird voice and sends you a stiff smile.

"Not until seven," you shrug and sit down next to him on his bed, immediately noticing how he's started avoiding your gaze.

"Right," he nods and occupies himself by putting his book on his bedside table. "So - uh - still looking forward to it?"

How do you tell your best friend that no, you're not looking forward to it because he's the one you really want to go out with?

"I don't know," you shrug, suddenly so anxious your temples have started pounding, "not really."

He finally looks up at you again, his slate blue eyes jittery as they meticulously search your face. "What happened?" He asks with tightly knitted eyebrows, "you were so excited for it yesterday."

You hesitate. "...Honestly?"

"Yeah, honestly," he sits up a little straighter, a serious look on his face, "- he didn't upset you, did he?" He says on impulse, his voice suddenly dark and dripping with venom at the mere thought as he reaches out for you and puts his fingers on your arm.

"No Buck," you shake your head and take a deep breath to get your pulse under control. "He didn't upset me."

"Then what?" He squeezes your arm softly, his eyes concerned as he tries to read you, "you can tell me anything."

"I know... It's just that..." you hesitate and consider ending your sentence with I'm in love with you, but the words die in your throat.

"What sweetheart?" he shuffles a little closer to you.

"Bucky," you heave a big breath of air to prepare your bold question that can potentially change everything between you dependant on his answer. "Do you not want me to go on that date?"

"What?" his eyes immediate travel over your face and you can almost hear his pulse running haywire as his fingers let go of your arm. "What makes you think that?"

"It's just..." your breathing picks up as you scan his every anxious feature. It makes you anxious too. "- you started acting weird the minute I told you about it. You've been avoiding me all day."

His fingers find your arm again, his grip a little tighter than before as he desperately looks at you. "No, no, no, sweetheart! That's not what happened," he licks his lips and plasters on the fake smile he's been practising in the mirror all day. "- I mean... I'm not the biggest fan of the guy but who you're dating is really none of my concern. I'm sure he's great, and as long as he treats you well, I'll make sure he stays on my good side," he says softy and sends you a smile that seems a little too genuine for your liking.

You hesitate again as you check his face for cracks, but his smile stays intact and happy. "...So you're really okay with it?" you ask in a small voice, mortified.

"Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, of course I'm okay with it!" he slides his fingers down your arm, capturing your hand inside his fist. "I really just want you to be happy. That's what's important. And you deserve to be taken care of for once instead of being stuck here with me and Sam." He reassuringly squeezes your fingers tight, but it just feels as if he's in the process of letting you go.

Slowly, you can feel your heart breaking.

You knew it... You knew Sam was wrong. Bucky isn't in love with you. Never has been. Never will be. Things are exactly the way they've always been and you're left pining after a man who doesn't want you back.

God, you feel like a idiot for getting your hopes up like that.

"Good," you nod resolutely, fighting hard to not let the heartbreak slip through your well-feigned mask. "I'm happy to hear you feel that way."

"Of course I do," he smiles solemnly.

"I should probably go get ready then..."

"Yeah," Bucky nods and lets go of you. "It's almost six."

With a sigh you hope he doesn't hear, you stand up from his bed and brush down the front of your jeans, not really sure you even want to leave his room.

He's looking up at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Have fun," he says while his hands grab the sheets underneath him, fisting the fabric. "- can't wait to hear all about it."

"Thanks, Buck," you feign a smile to match his, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you, sweetheart..."

You turn around with a wave of your hand, but the smile on your face falters the minute you've turned on your heel.

You can hear his heavy breathing over the music playing in the corner, and when you reach out for the door handle, a delicate sound finally breaks the reticence between you.

"Don't go..."

At first, you're not sure if you're imagining it, but then you hear him shuffling behind you, and when you turn around and face him, he's on his feet. "Don't go on that date," he whimpers in defeat, "I'm begging you. Please... don't go."

"Bucky..."

"I'm in love with you," he says guiltily with a gulp.

Your heart stops.

"- and I can't pretend I'm okay with you going on dates when I'm not."

You're completely speechless. You want to comment on everything. Run to him and proclaim that you're his. That you've always been his. But you're nailed to the spot and all that manages to escape your lips is a tight whimper.

"- I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now..." he closes his eyes and looks as if he's in pain. "And I know I'm risking everything by telling you this," he gulps, "but I've been keeping it in for so fucking long, trying to protect our friendship. I just can't keep pretending I don't want... more. It's stupid, I know."

"Bucky, it's not stupid," you finally manage to croak and it's as if the force that've been gluing you to the spot finally lets go. "It's not," you whisper as you take a few long strides over to him, stopping right before your chests touch. "It's not stupid," you repeat and reach a hand upwards, caressing his bearded chin.

His eyes are glistening, and his breathing is coming in ragged as he searches your face. "Sweetheart," he gulps in confusion, "I don't... - what does this mean?"

"It means -" your hand reaches up so it can rake through his hair, coming to a halt on the back of his neck where you can feel the goosebumps travel through his entire body. "- that I'm in love with you too. Have been for quite some time. Since I met you, actually."

Now it's his turn to be glued to the spot.

His mouth falls a little open and you can tell by the look on his face that he's in the process of questioning everything, so you underline your confession by putting your forehead to his. "I want to be yours," you whisper and observe him closely.

At first, he tenses even harder, but then a small smile starts tugging on his lips as he finally relaxes in your arms and pulls you closer. "I want you to be mine, too," he declares sweetly as his heart blossoms in his chest. He reaches down and kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead.

"It's you," he whispers against your skin, "- It's always been you."

"Kiss me," you beam and almost cannot stop smiling silly when you reach up for his mouth, finally claiming the softest, most pillowy lips you've ever had the pleasure of kissing.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes friends to lovers #bucky barnes jealous

4K notes · View notes

rucksackmentality · 10 months

Text

List of the truths shared in Nana Morri's Honesty trial (C3E79):

Imogen: I am genuinely scared to meet my mom again.

Laudna: Deep down inside, both Delilah and I want the shard...Fearne should have it, but I don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings, or hers.

Imogen: I love Laudna deeply but I'm disgusted at the thought of Delilah looking at us all the time.

Orym: I'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. It doesn’t matter if I'm bunking with one of you guys.

FCG: Sometimes I pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don’t do enough with them...Chetney, you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything other than wood! There's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood!

Orym: I've always kind of laughed it off but I guess I do kind of wonder if Chetney is my dad.

Ashton: I am the reason that the Jiana Hexum robbery went fucking wrong, and the reason why I got thrown out of a fucking window.

Fearne: I feel like we’re very ill-equipped for this job and we're going to fail at saving the world. (Laudna: Honestly that's probably true, I'm right there with you.)

Chetney: While wood may be the superior material to metal, I do fear that, with the dwindling interest in it, that children will find my toys - and thereby myself - obsolete every year I grow older.

FCG: I think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time I hurt or kill something - it feels really good. It makes me sort of relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away.

Imogen: I know we're supposed to save the gods, but I've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them would ever respond. I think I'm tainted. I dont know if I want to save gods that don't love me.

Laudna: You know we could rip-cord out of [saving the world] at any moment...right? And sometimes I fantasize about it all the time.

Fearne: I sometimes do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping - not weird stuff, I just like to look at you closely...and maybe like, twiddle your hair or braid it. Nothing bad!

Ashton: Whenever it starts to get quiet, I start worrying that one of us - most of us - are going to end up killing another one of us accidentally...I have panicked thinking about when one you kills another one of us.

Orym: I have all the faith in the world in you guys...and I have also spent time thinking of how to neutralize each of you.

FCG: I kinda worry that I put all my eggs in the Changebringer basket and she might betray us all. I had a really weird conversation with her and I think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me - but what if she does? And I'm saying horrible things?

Imogen: Fearne, I was really disappointed in you for running away from your power. You should take the shard!

Orym: I really miss Dorian, and sometimes I think that's okay, and sometimes I think it isn't.

Ashton: I feel fucking worse that I just fucked up Fearne's life way more than mine and I should've died instead of that happening.

Chetney: I grew up in the Bramblewood outside of Westruun, and when I was a kid, I came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. All they left behind were toys. They ran when Errevon the Rimelord was running across the plains, and so I'm kind of afraid of dragons. And I had five siblings - Alabaster, Pepper, Sugarplum, Hermey, and Chad - and I was so mad that they left I never looked for any of them, and now I'm pretty sure they're dead. So I think any family I have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me. That's why I don't get attached to anybody.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c3e79 #cr3

834 notes · View notes

forsworned · 1 month

Text

No One Noticed ft. Hesh Walker

Synopsis: Feeling lonely and disconnected, you find solace in an online gaming forum where you meet Hesh, a war veteran who secretly works as an elite member of the Ghosts task force. Despite Hesh's initial tough exterior, he's soft for you and bonds through shared gaming experiences, late-night texts, and calls. Eager to bring their digital connection into the real world, You're convinced by your newfound virtual love to fly to his city to explore a potential relationship. Will your connection flourish or go to shit?

Warnings: Canon Game Violence, Canon Violence, Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Sexting, PnV sex, Cunninglingus, Blowjob, 9.8k words

Author's note: This song makes me so emotional and who better to write this for than my love, Hesh

If you could change anything, it would be your soul-sucking day job. Typing away at transcripts behind your desk is tedious, mind-numbing, and downright exhausting. You glance at the clock—it finally reads 4:30PM. A sigh of relief escapes you as you save your work and close the tab. The hum of your old office lamp and the clatter of your keyboard are the only sounds breaking the monotony. Your eyes ache from the screen's glare, and the cold air in the office makes the warmth of your couch even more inviting.

Ping!

The chat pop-up lights up your dim screen, and you feel a sudden rush of serotonin.

MyDawgRiley99: Your day been as shitty as mine?

A soft laugh escapes you as you read his message. Since joining a gaming lobby with a group of military guys during a late-night Fortnite session, you've found yourself playing with them almost every time they invite you. You never really pried into their daily lives; you were just looking to unwind. And yet, some nights, one of them would linger after the others had logged off, not to play, but simply to talk and unwind.

And over time, you began to savor the sound of his voice, finding comfort in its deep, resonant tone. You bite your bottom lip before typing away at your keyboard:

CtrlFreak: Seems like we're both in the trenches today.

As you're about to close out the tab, his reply bubble immediately appears, and you feel your spirits lift.

MyDawgRiley99: Long day at the office?

You scoff, shaking your head. Maybe you’re sharing too much with someone you’ve only met online, but you think to yourself, If he's half as sexy as he sounds, it should be okay, right? Right??

CtrlFreak: Like you wouldn't believe. I'm two seconds away from losing it.

MyDawgRiley99: Well, let's try to fix that. Same time?

You glance at your stack of requests and exhale sharply. Falling behind on deadlines and getting chewed out by your boss isn't your idea of relaxation, but for one night, just one freakin' night...

CtrlFreak: I really shouldn't...

MyDawgRiley99: Just one match?

You snort softly. You know what that means. One match turns into five, with hours of talking in between while you sit in the lobby. Sometimes, others join, and it’s nothing but a constant roast session that leaves you craving more genuine human interaction. It’s a vicious cycle.

CtrlFreak: I'll think about it. MyDawgRiley99: Haha, I'll be waiting for ya.

You shut your laptop and press your forehead against the warm alloy. The constant burnout of your job leaves you unfocused, fatigued, and jittery from all the espresso shots you need just to stay awake.

But you decide to join anyway. He immediately joins your party the moment you load into the lobby.

"Almost thought you wouldn't hop on tonight." His voice comes through your headset, instantly relaxing you.

The corners of your lips curl into a smile. "What can I say? You've tempted me."

He chuckles, and it's flirty, light, fun, and easy. In this moment, you want nothing more than to relish the escapism that comes from the unknown soldier on the other side of your screen. Amidst your grueling workday, his voice is like a coolness that soothes your burning heart, pulling you from the depths of mundanity into a world where conversation flows as smoothly as his laughter.

You tap on your controller, trying to control the strange desire stirring within you. You have no idea what he looks like—or what any of them look like, really.

Truthfully, you never bothered to ask for names. You referred to each other by the first initial of your real names. His being 'H.'

"You wanna talk about it?" The sound of him munching on chips comes through the speaker, causing you both to laugh. "My bad."

"All good. Nah, I'm just burned out." You readjust yourself on your sofa and lean back against the cushion, closing your eyes as you savor the sound of his smooth tenor.

"I get that. Trust me."

You feel that smile returning. "Right, right."

"Well," he begins, playfully defensive at your casual dismissal. "I'm just sayin'—"

Your laughter echoes through the headset, and he sighs, the smile on his face growing at your teasing. "Always gettin’ me worked up."

"You fall for it every time." You retort. Your mirth fades, and it's quiet for a moment. You tap at your controller again, playing with the joystick as your heart begins to race. There's almost a need to ask him to reveal himself to you. After all those nights dreaming about him, you find yourself yearning to know what he looks like.

"So," he clears his throat, shaking you out of your mild daze. "um, I don't want you to feel like you have to, but..."

You sit up a bit, feeling your throat go dry at his sudden change in tone. You can literally feel the tension through the connection.

"Well, I'm just kind of curious about, you know," his voice holds hesitation, an eagerness to pry. It creates a charged silence between you. The playful teasing shifts into something more earnest, and you can almost hear the curiosity in his tone as he tries to find the right words.

"Uh huh," you playfully taunt. You can tell where this is going, and you can't help but feel exhilarated at the thought of finally knowing what he looks like.

He chuckles, and it sends a thrill up your spine. "Uhhhh," he awkwardly laughs again, and you join in. The smile on your lips stretches broadly across your face, making your cheeks sore.

"I mean, we've been talking on here for months, so I'm just curious about how you look, you know?" He sighs. "Aren't you?"

You giggle at the apprehensiveness in his voice. "Seems like it's been weighing on your mind."

"Something like that." He clears his throat. "Obviously, it can stay this way. No pressure."

You scratch your head, feeling trepidation seeping into your bones. It isn't a now-or-never moment. You could simply say no or maybe another time, but you feel this irresistible pull from him. You think that even if he isn't the most attractive guy, it's not the end of the world...

"Okay." You simply say.

"Really!?" He exclaims, and you laugh at his enthusiasm. It's endearing, really. It's the lack of a social life that's really doing it for you. You think that maybe if you started going on Hinge again, you wouldn't have this problem of getting emotionally attached to men in Fortnite lobbies. But all of that falls into the back of your mind as you return to the present.

You're a bit tentative, but the words naturally come out. "Sure, I'm curious too." You breathe out, fiddling with the wire of your headphones between your fingers. There are dents from the hours you’ve spent on your console, talking to him during the late hours of the night.

"Yeah?" The way he says it sends a thrill up your spine again. You just know this man is sexy. Dammit.

"Yeah." You reply, almost reluctantly, as you walk over to your desktop and pull up your Discord server. Your cursor hovers over the video chat button, but he pings himself in, and you reflexively close the tab.

"What the fuck?" He laughs, and you crumble at his reaction, hiding your face in your hands.

Your heart pounds as you feel warmth crawl into your cheeks. "I'm sorry!"

He's still laughing at your reaction. You can't tell if it's because he thinks it's funny how quickly you exited or if he finds you as endearing as you find him.

"Are you shy?" He asks, still chuckling. You swallow thickly, not wanting to answer immediately. It's been far too long since you've been in the dating scene, and you’ve forgotten the simple pleasure of face-to-face flirting, reading the micro-expressions of the person across from you. To you, it was like a game—analyzing the strain on their face when you talk about your interests instead of your kinks, the bounce of their thighs when you're not throwing back sexual banter, or the way you check to see if they bear their teeth at you when they smile. It was easier knowing he was just a voice, but now it seems like he's reeling you in for more, and you find yourself struggling to say no.

You didn't want to deal with the high highs and the low lows anymore. The boring simplicity of a quiet relationship is what you craved, but a military man? That's tumultuous, grueling even. You didn't want to go back to nights of crying yourself to sleep over a man who refused to take your calls or reply to your texts because of their emotional distance and lack of therapy. But you're craving attention, and he's so willing to give it to you.

You groan at his reaction. "Fine," you grumble as you open the chat again and nibble your lip, lingering over the tab that shows he's active.

"No pressure," he teases, a hint of mischief in his tone. It's daring, and you’re no coward. You click the tab, joining the video call, and your heart races as you wait for it to load, stripping off your headset.

And then there he is, swaying in his gaming chair, his face lighting up when you enter the call.

"Oh shit," he grins, and you cover your mouth to hide the joy in your expression because he's fucking hot. The grittiness of the webcam blurs his handsome features, but you can still make out the sharpness of his jawline, the intensity of his viridian eyes, and the darkness of his short-cropped hair. He strokes the stubble on his cheeks, not even bothering to hide his obvious attraction. He's brunette, rugged, and attractive enough to make you want to buy a lottery ticket because you can't believe your luck. "What's up, girl?”

You feel the color drain from your face at his tone, and you quickly wave in the most awkward fashion. He looks even more amused. You realize you're not used to being looked at this way by men, and your shyness catches him off guard. "What's the matter?"

You shake your head. "N-nothing," you stammer, fiddling with the wire again. The momentary distraction of your desk lamp is all that keeps you from looking at him directly.

"Come on, don't be shy now," he coos, smiling so widely that it almost makes you want to melt into your chair.

You stare at the small thumbnail of yourself on the screen, feeling somewhat more exposed than you're used to. After a few seconds, you finally allow yourself to look at him again.

"I don't know," you laugh. "I wasn't expecting you to look like that."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckles, and you catch a glimpse of his dimples. "What were you expecting, then?"

"An ogre," you joke.

He throws his head back, laughing. "Damn, you really had no faith in me." he jokes back, and you're both nervously giggling at your first video chat. It’s awkward in all the right ways. The tension between you increases, but it’s different now. The curtain of anonymity you both sought on this platform has been lifted.

You shake your head, still bashful from his handsomeness. It irritates you. One hot guy gives you attention, and you're falling to your knees.

"Not one bit." You tuck your lips into your mouth, and he leans his chin on his palm, admiring the details of your face. You're just not ready to admit your attraction yet. You’d rather let it linger in the air, maybe make him pine for your compliments.

There's another pause as the playful banter fades into a softer, more charged silence. The tension hangs in the air, neither of you quite sure what to say next. You chew your lip, still somewhat unsure of how you want this to go. But before you can overthink it, he speaks up again.

"So... maybe we could meet up sometime?" His voice is tentative, like he's not quite ready for your answer.

You blink, taken aback. "Oh, um," you bite your bottom lip, feeling the tension in your shoulders. "That sounds cool."

His smile widens, and there's something almost boyish in his excitement. "Yeah?"

You nod, giving him a shy smile. "Yeah."

"Alright then," he grins. "Let's see where this goes."

He sways in his chair again and grins. "So, did you wanna talk about it?"

And that’s the start of long conversations over the phone—your actual phone—after he asks for your number, and you coyly give it to him. More often than not, he's testing the limits of your humor with dark memes, sending you selfies and mirror pics in his uniform that you shamelessly drool over, and FaceTiming you during his night shifts to keep him company while you sprawl out on your bed.

In his downtime, he shamelessly fists at his dick at the mere thought of you. Those pretty lips on his leaking tip, licking up the precum that oozes out and coats the plushness of your flesh. He wonders how you taste, what makes you moan, because at this point it’s obvious you’re both really into each other. Neither of you wants to break the ice—you simply enjoy the flirting and the cutesy banter. He loves the way you giggle at his stupid jokes and how you seem to show a little more skin the more calls you have.

Like when you get up from your seat, and instead of wearing your usual sweats, you’re now sporting a pair of curve-hugging plaid shorts and a flimsy tank top with straps that are always slipping off your shoulders. And it’s painfully obvious when he flares his nose playfully at you and glances away. Maybe there’s a subtle gesture of him adjusting himself, and you throw your head back, not bothering to hide the delight in your laughter.

"You know what you're doing," he quips, drumming his fingers on his work table.

You lean back in your chair and fiddle with the squishy cactus stress toy, stretching out the arms and letting them go with a pop. "I have no idea what you’re talking about," you chime with a giggle.

His eyes fall on your braless figure, cleavage spilling out of the V-shaped collar, tracing the outline of your nipples that peak through the sheer fabric.

"Yes, you do," he insists, gripping the hem of his compression shorts as they strain against his throbbing dick.

There’s a glimmer of mischief in your eye. "And what's that?"

He doesn’t miss a beat. "Being a sexy little vixen." His eyes roam your body again, and you hide your burning face. God, his directness was always so sexy to you. He never bothered to hide the way he felt. Especially when he would heart every selfie you sent him, throwing praises your way like you were the only woman in the world.

"You're not foolin’ me," he presses on, grabbing his planner and clicking his pen as he begins to jot something down.

Your curiosity piques. "What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "Wouldn’t you like to know?" He provocatively glances up at you. "I’m writing down the dates that I’m off."

"For?"

"When I meet you."

Your eyes widen at his boldness, and a shy smile graces your lips. "Meet me?" Your heart picks up its rhythm, and you’re trying your hardest not to get too giddy about it.

He taps his metal pen against the paper, leans back in his chair, and licks his lips. "Is that a problem?"

You hadn’t expected him to be so forward about meeting you. Fuck, he looks so damn edible when he manspreads, looking nonchalant and relaxed. He can sense your yearning but also your hesitation.

He leans forward again, sincerity coming easy to him. "Look," he begins, wanting to comfort you, to assure you he won’t take advantage of you, but he knows it’s a privilege to be in your presence.

"I know you’ve probably heard this a million times: 'You won’t get hurt, you can trust me.' And I know it’s an absolute luxury to even exist alongside you."

That makes you blush. It’s so easy to tell that he was raised right.

"But this," he gestures between the two of you, "I want to know if it’s real. There’s only so much I can tell from behind a screen."

You understand what he means. The essence of a person—their aura, their charisma—is so much more tangible and real when you meet them in person. Seeing their quirks, their habits, feeling their energy. It’s different.

"I know you know what I mean."

You nod. "I do." You lick your lips, searching for the right response. There’s really no doubt in your mind that you want to meet him. I mean, for God's sake, he's mouthwatering. The way his abs peek out from under his loose shirt when he stretches, the playful way he flexes his taut biceps, his calloused hands hardened from war and long hours at the gym. He's just delectable all around.

But are you willing to take the leap?

Somehow, you're still asking yourself that as you peer out the window of the airplane. Your ticket is paid for—first class, with all the accommodations…it’s like a dream.

The landscape below is a patchwork of rebuilt cities and scarred land, signs of a world that has been through hell but is clawing its way back.You can’t help but wonder if this is a glimpse into the future you’re stepping into. A life beyond the screen, in a world where the remnants of war are slowly being overtaken by new growth, where hope is becoming tangible again.

The plane touches down smoothly on a newly restored runway, and as you step into the terminal, you’re greeted by the sight of soldiers, workers, and civilians mingling in a place that once might have been a warzone. Your heart races with anticipation, nervousness, and a hint of something deeper. This isn’t just about meeting him—it’s about stepping into a world that both of you are trying to find your place in.

He’s waiting for you just outside the baggage claim, leaning casually against a pillar. The grittiness of the webcam is replaced by the crisp reality of his presence. The sharpness of his jawline, the vividness of his eyes, and the way his uniform fits him perfectly—it all hits you at once. You realize that you weren’t fully prepared for how striking he’d be in person.

The moment stretches between you, just like it did during your video calls, but now there’s no screen to hide behind. His eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail as if he’s trying to memorize you all over again. And then, with a grin that sends a shiver down your spine, he steps forward.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lower and more resonant in person, sending a thrill through you.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to keep your cool, but the way your voice trembles gives you away.

His grin widens, and he reaches out, his hand brushing against yours. The touch is electric, sending sparks through your body. He notices the way you react and chuckles softly, not even trying to hide his satisfaction.

“You’re just as pretty as I imagined,” he says, his bluntness making your cheeks heat up.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you manage to tease, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He laughs, a sound that’s warm and genuine, and it eases some of the tension between you. He leans into you, enveloping you into a warm embrace and you easily return it as you snake your arms around his neck. The smell of his aftershave engulfs your senses and you relax into his touch. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, withdrawing from you to grab your bag effortlessly as he leads you toward the exit.

Outside, the air is fresher than you expected, a sign that nature is beginning to reclaim the earth. The city around you is a mix of new constructions and old ruins. It’s almost nothing like the California you remember. He leads you to a sleek, black SUV and opens the passenger door for you.

As you settle into your seat, you glance at him as he climbs in, feeling a mix of emotions. This is the man you’ve spent hours talking to, flirting with, and getting to know through a screen. Now he’s here, real and tangible, and the chemistry between you is undeniable.

He catches you staring and smirks, reaching over to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You alright?” he asks, his voice soft but with an edge of excitement.

You nod, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yeah,” you nervously avert your gaze and nod. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Hesh nods, giving you a reassuring smile. “So, here’s the plan,” He hands you the aux cord. And you grin as you take it from him. “We’re gonna head back to the base,”

He sees you visibly stiffen. “But,” And you raise your brows waiting for him to continue. “We’re going back to my place after we check you in.”

You let out a sigh of relief and he laughs, as he watches you plug your phone in and shake your head.

“Come on, you know that I live off base.” Hesh occasionally glances over at you, as if making sure you’re comfortable while you shuffle through your playlist. He seems to be the picture of calm, but you can sense the underlying tension that lingers between you two.

You say nothing and end up settling on a song you both love (mostly you).

You should stay real close to Jesus Keep that bottle at your hand, my man

He chuckles at your pick, and reaches over to hold your hand. A wave of comfort washes over you. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m Lana coded for the hundredth time.”

You giggle at him and sit up a bit. “You are!”

He shakes his head and lets the song play, humming along to the tune and you’re actively burning it into your mind. It’s something you want to remember every detail of. The way he squeezes your hand while the other is on his steering wheel, tapping his finger at the steering wheel. How thick his dark lashes are, how pretty his viridian hues are when they peek over at you to make sure you’re real and not a figment of his imagination.

As you approach the base, the outer level is a standard Marine military facility, with its usual array of buildings and vehicles. It’s not completely unknown to you. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been on a military base. Military personnel pinlines the large metal gate and one of the guards approaches the vehicle as Hesh fishes out his ID.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” Hesh says as you pull up to the guard. “I’ll have to check you in at the visitor’s center first. They don’t let civilians past this point without clearance.”

You nod, trying to hide your nerves as he pulls into a parking lot near the visitor’s center. He senses your apprehension and turns fully to you, gently grasping your hand. “Hey,” He reaches out to cup your chin, and your breath catches in your throat. His earthy green eyes are trained on you. “God, you’re so pretty.” His fingers gently trace your chin, and you fluster under his fixed gaze. “We’re gonna be outta here in no time, and we’ll spend the whole week together, m’kay?”

“Okay.” You squeeze his hand back, and he brings your wrist to his lips, placing a yearning kiss to your skin. It feels as if it were searing to the touch.

Hesh escorts you into the visitor center, a space designed for civilians to wait while military personnel handle their business. He gives you a reassuring smile before heading to the more secure parts of the base. You watch as he disappears into the maze of corridors, leaving you with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

After what feels like an eternity, Hesh returns, his face relaxed and his eyes bright. “All set,” he says, offering you his hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

You take his hand, and he leads you back to the SUV. The tension between you two is almost palpable, but it’s softened by the warmth of his touch and the promise of time together away from the base.

The scenery changes to one of a regular suburban neighborhood. From the white picket fences to the restaurants that line the streets to the long lines of cypress and palm trees, you wouldn’t even know the difference.

“Oh my God, there’s a Taco Bell!” You point out and Hesh laughs at the incredulousness in your tone.

“Yeah, it’s like any other cookie cutter neighborhood.” He turns into a cul de sac, pulling into the driveway of the biggest home on the block. It’s a mediterranean style home, classic red roof tiles, a stucco exterior with metal work accents. There’s personal touches of greenery, succulents in various sized terracotta pots, a handful of olive trees and wildflowers that maze around the stone path.

“This is cookie cutter!?” You exclaim, as he helps you out of the vehicle. “You have a sweet crib.”

He smirks at you, carrying your suitcase with one hand and your hand in the other. “Just wait til you see the inside.”

And somehow the interior is much more obnoxiously cozy and earthy. It’s truly a delight to be in a home where beachy tones of seafoam green, turquoise and cerulean are the main color scheme. It really makes you feel like you're on vacation.

“...and if you’re really down, we can go to the beach…[name]?” He calls out to you and your wandering eyes land back on him. He grins at you, closing the space between you two. “You listenin’?”

“Not really,” You shamelessly admit. “Your place is lovely. Like something out of a magazine.”

He chuckles as he moves past you to climb up the winding staircase with your carry-on and suitcase. “Play your cards right, and this could be yours, too.”

You turn around ripping out of your stupor, “Huh?”

“Nothin’.” He softly snorts, and you follow him the stairs as he shows you to his room. He gives you the option of the guest bedroom or his. You notice little things around the home that paths the walls, small trinkets, memorabilia and photo frames of family members. It all looks different in person, even if he’s given you a house tour over FaceTime.

Peeking into his room, you notice how everything is neatly organized, band posters of Creed, Papa Roach and the like are hung up on his forest green walls. A diffuser runs on his nightstand and it smells like something between sandalwood and amber vanilla. He’s taken all the necessary precautions to make you feel homey.

“Your room.” You smile at him, and he’s more than eager to please. The conversation flows just as easy as it does in person, even as you tell him to turn around while you strip down to get into your bikini.

He promised you all the beach time you could get, and despite the minor jetlag that nags at your slightly foggy mind, you were in the mood to sunbathe. Bonus that you get to show off your summer bod and Hesh is more than willing to peel off his shirt for some much needed skin-to-skin. Even if he can just wrap his taut, tanned arm around your waist to claim you, he’s just happy to be in your company.

“So, what about the others?” you cock a brow at him, as he flagrantly eyes your figure while you build a sandcastle.

He shakes his head and scoffs, viridian hues trailing down the exposed parts of your skin. “Others?”

You tuck your finger under his chin, signaling for him to look at you and not ogle your body. “Yeah, your other teammates that we play with?”

“Oh right…” He gets lost in your eyes and the way they softly crinkle when you smile, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter and he can’t help but to laugh with you. “They don’t need to know you’re here. Besides, they’re preoccupied.”

You tilt your head. “With?”

He pauses. There’s vacillation behind the earthiness of his eyes. A certain type of secrecy that goes beyond the typical confidentiality that comes with being in the military. “Just stuff.”

“Okay,” You shake your head, not wanting to interrogate him. In the past, he had mentioned that a lot of the things he does out in the field require the utmost discretion and you’re not one to scruple around and find out.

You’d done enough research and background checks to know that he was a military brat, a veteran, has a dog named Riley (whom he misses terribly, but had to go on an op with his brother, Logan), and is oddly passionate about sourdough starters. He’s always open to answering your questions that don’t revolve around his work, which again you’re not entitled to know but you couldn’t say you weren’t the least bit intrigued.

The rest of the day plays out like a dream. Not a single one of your vivid, maladaptive daydreams could touch this. From the way he carries you to the waters of the Pacific Ocean and you cling to him with sea salt in your hair to the way your first kiss sends a thrill of pure electricity up your spine as the sunsets. His lips are soft, plush and salty from the water, and his fingers and hands are as calloused and rough as you had imagined them.

And you literally can’t get enough of him. Especially when he just can’t seem to keep his hands off of you. Seriously, like you need a crowbar to pry them off because he’s attached to the hip. Of course, he lets you go when you need to rinse off the beach from your skin in his shower, but he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Your wet, naked untouched body just standing under his enclosure he’s installed in the backyard like you’re waiting to be ravaged by him.

Because dammit that’s what you want. To have him slip in, wrap his strong arms around your waist, pebbling your nipples between his fingertips as he kisses at your neck and bends you over--

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna wait here for as long as you need.” He sarcastically remarks over the sound of the running water. You giggle at the playfulness in his tone.

“Oh, I’ll take all night, baby.” You scrub at your skin with the loofa he gave you, watching as the soap becomes sudsy white foam that covers your body. And he accidentally gets a glimpse through the cracks in the bamboo casting and--Lord have mercy on his soul. If it weren’t for the body wash he’d given you from earlier, you’d be all exposed to him.

“Don’t tempt me.” He mutters, sitting on the nearby bench just outside of the shower, fiddling with his drawstrings of his swimming trunks. It’s a failed attempt at trying to quell his dirty thoughts of you and keep his wandering eyes away from the little opening he can see you through.

You swallow thickly as you exfoliate your back, but your arms are sore from trying to get back into shape before meeting with him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to propose…

“You wanna wash my back for me?”

There’s a pause. The weight of your words and the heavy silence is agonizing, leaving you in regret and pre-dejection.

“You sure?” He says a bit too quietly, and you hear the sound of his feet shifting against the sandstone.

You lick your lips and nod. “Yeah, I mean only if you want to…”

He chuckles, “don’t have to ask me twice.” And you hear the scuffling of his feet hitting the grit of the sandy covered stone floor. You hold your breath as he pads on the bamboo panels over to you, and you hear the distinct sharp inhale the moment he gets a full glimpse of you. You feel your shyness overcome you knowing you are now completely bare to him, but the sound of his wet swimming trunks being casted to the side makes you flinch.

His warmth and his scent casts a shadow over your mind as he envelops you with his arms, taking the soapy loofa from your hands. You can feel his heart drumming against his chest as your shaky breaths mingle for a bit, but the bristles scrub at your upper and lower back preoccupy your mind. You can feel how he squeezes the soap down the swell of your ass and gets to work again.

“I said, my back.” You susurrate, half turning to him and he smirks.

“My bad, should I stop?” He presses his lips against your shoulder and peeks up at you with dampened dark lashes. You shudder at his touch. It had been long, too long. His touch is making the pyre in your lower belly ignite and you can’t help but lean your weight against him, exposing your neck to him. “I need you to use your words, sweetheart…”

You whine at his pressing need for verbal confirmation. “No, don’t stop.” He hums against your skin and he gently exfoliates over the peaks of your breast, concentrating on how they pebble under his touch. He experimentally thumbs over the hardened bud, tweaking it between his fingers as he kisses the sweet spots on your neck. It’s a pleasurable feeling that leaves you tingly and throbbing.

You can feel his hardening length pressing against your ass and you gently brush your fingers against it, and he reflexively bucks his hips. “Eager, are we?”

“I could say the same for you!” You chirp, and his laughter reverberates against your back. He gently takes your chin to face him, and he glances down at your flustered gaze before softly latching his lips to yours. His hands, however, do not stop moving. They’re roaming over the expanse of your breast, squeezing at your thighs as he continues to kiss and squeeze you.

It’s fucking hot the way he can’t help but intermingle his moans with you, whispering your name as he finally slips his fingers between your thighs. And you glance up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips parted and scrunched brows.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He’s totally melting under your fervent gaze, and the sweet, sweet feeling of your velvety folds against the rough pads of his fingers.

“Oh, fuck…David…” You gasp, lolling your eyes to the back of your skull. His dick isn’t even in you yet and yet, his fingers are doing more for you than any other man. It’s so easy for him to work both of his fingers into you as he uses his palm to rub at your clit.

“My God, you are so wet.” He croaks, thrusting his fingers into you, past your g-spot and to press against your cervix and you collapse against him when you feel your orgasm practically jump you. He feels you spasm against him, walls fluttering against his fingers and presses his lips against yours again, taking in every one of your little moans and gasps.

And after you’ve caught your breath, there’s a flash of amusement that takes over his handsome features. “I didn’t think you’d cum so quickly.” He tenderly kisses your shoulder, and then your cheek and up to your hair. You feel your cheeks burn, silently cursing him for his agile fingers, but the humiliation is over in seconds when you turn your body to press flush against his.

The kiss is electrifying, adrenaline shoots through you and you’re craving more and more of him. His lips part from yours for an instant and he tucks the dampened strand of hair behind your ear.

“Not everything all at once, sweetheart.” He grins, and your jaw slightly drops at his taunting. He bites his lips at the disbelief in your expression. He wants to ensure that you know that he’s not in it for the quick fuck, that you’re more than that to him. That he’s more than happy to please you, but the sex part. He wants to wait a little. Make sure that you’re really comfortable and you’re not feeling like you’re being coerced into it.

You sigh as you surf through the 1000s of channels he has on 70 inch plasma screen TV while he takes a long ass piss. Like seriously, this man drinks water by the gallon. But you’re content. You’re sitting on the end of his bed, clad in his Nike hoodie that sits oversized on your body and he’s quietly admiring you from the bathroom door way. He’s wondering how he got so damn lucky.

He silently treks over to where you’re perched over the bed, and squats in between your legs, snaking his strong arms against you. His eyes hold an earnest expression, “I can’t believe we met over a Fortnite lobby.”

And that causes you to giggle and rehash all the late night matches you’ve had together, how he’s listened to you pour your heart out to him about all of your troubles and even Venmo’d you a handful of times out of the kindness of his heart.

He watches how your eyes droop, and how any minute you’re about to knock out cold. And soon he’s ushering you under the covers, snug as a bug under his cotton-linen sheets. He joins you from behind, the scent of you is overwhelming and he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck. The floral, musky scent of your shampoo is interwoven into your hair paired with your soft snores, easily helping him drift into a deep sleep.

And when you wake up in the morning it still doesn’t settle in. Not when you wake up to him sleepily rubbing his eyes and peering up at you with that damn grin of his, not when you’re beside him brushing your teeth over his sink and definitely not when you’re sitting across from him on the kitchen bar as he makes you breakfast with nothing but his grey sweats barely hanging off his hips.

It’s cute. The way you two feed each other pancakes and eggs, and how you share the equal feeling of bafflement when you’re facing each other, unable to undo the heap of twisted limbs. Despite his lack of interest in having you meet his teammates yesterday, he wants nothing more than to show you off. In fact, that’s all he does when he’s holding your hand out in the shopping area, buying you anything you happen to say is cute or that you try on that’s very much to his liking.

He’s getting stopped by soldiers who are also meandering through the streets of San Diego and word gets around fast because soon the crew knew about your sudden appearance all over his Instagram story and the group chat is poppin'.

Logan: No way you flew her out here… Keegan: Kids’, got balls Merrick: I’ll have a word with you when we get back Kick: Wait…who is this again?

“I’m assuming they’re taking it well?”

He hears your musing voice, and he tears away his gaze from his phone screen to look at you with a beguiled expression. He can’t help but be giddy, as he watches you pad over to him in nothing but his t-shirt, coffee in hand as you take your seat in his lap like it’s reserved just for you. And it feels so natural to have you in his arms like this. You fit so perfectly against him and he’s having to dent his skin with half crescents in an effort to ensure he’s not dreaming.

But reality strikes at you again when you realize that even though you are on vacation, you’re still getting email notifications of transcript requests nearing their deadlines. Your mood shifts and he peeks over at your phone screen, taking your hand in his as he brushes the hair from your face.

“Is there anything that I can do to make you feel better?”

And that single question is enough to ignite the balmy feeling between your thighs. Your lips instantly find his as you straddle his lap on the love seat, and a small sound of surprise followed by pleasure emits from him, soon finding themselves latching to the side of his throat and he’s threading his fingers through your hair.

You find yourself returning the favor, slipping your fingers under the waistband of his boxers as your tug at his hardened cock. Vulgarities skid past his mouth as he tries his damned best to fixate those pretty green eyes on you, but they right open when he sees you’ve settled between his thighs. Your plush lips against his aching, swollen tip.

A groan leaves his lips as you do nothing but tease him with the tip of your tongue before taking him wholly into your mouth, but he doesn’t want to cum yet. He wants to have experienced you fully. So he’s lifting you off the carpet and laying you on the cushion, spreading you wide and dick throbs at your glistening pussy before immersing himself in it. And God, his tongue is as heavenly as his fingers are. He’s not shy at all when it comes to lapping you up like it’s his last meal, shaking you out so he can get even more of you.

The sounds of his slurping are loud and lewd, humming against your clit right before he inserts his fingers into you and you’re quick to ride out your climax, grabbing at the short dark locks of his hair as you grind against his lips. He doesn’t even move off of you, the sensation of you writhing beneath him as you try to pry him off arouses him, but he obliges when you begin to whine.

He lets go with a pop, your arousal drips down his chin and you welcome him back with a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue as he pushes you further down onto the couch. You don’t want to stop, you crave him far too much in this instance to halt his actions. Especially when you’re realizing that he’s naked now, and you’re left in only his shirt. But his fingers are dancing over your stomach, reflexively dipping in at his touch until he gets to the peaks of your breasts.

The fabric lifts off your body and he takes you in. “You’re seriously so stunning, [name].”

You like that he says your name. Not just some generic pet name like baby, or babe. It means something to you, to him. That you’re not just an object for his sexual gratification and you liked that.

You instantly fluster under his gaze, pupils blown leaving only the remnants of his sage green eyes. “Thank you.” You finally muster up the words after what feeling like forever. He rips his gaze from you and the thought finally comes to him. “Um,” He eyes flicker toward the staircase and then at you. “Upstairs.”

“Right.”

You chew on your lip and the anticipation builds between you as he takes your hand and leads you upstairs, giggling as you scoot on his cool bed sheets, and you feel the warmth of his hard body against yours. He leans over to his nightstand and it feels like a millennia before he fishes out a condom. You peek over to look at the box and the receipt is still attached to it, brand new which explains why he was fiddling with the cardboard for so long.

“Just for me?” You chime and he pokes his tongue in his cheek, trying to hold back his grin while he tears open the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his hardened length. His forearms are on either side of your head.

“You think I’m just out here layin’ pipe? Of course I just bought them.” He bashfully scratches his neck and you can’t help but laugh at his sheepish grin. You lift your head and cup his stubbly cheeks to bring him into a fiery kiss and he quickly returns it, feeling his cocking enfolding at your entrance.

You gasp at the way his length brushes against your weepy folds. “Please.” You murmur between kisses and he dithers for a second, searching your expression for any hint of uncertainty. But you’re all there, determined and in desperate need for his touch.

“Are you sure?” He whispers, and you frantically nod. He chuckles at your insistence and he aligns himself with your sopping core, gently prodding into you until he bottom’s out and you’re both already gasping. The saccharine feeling of being filled up is unmatched, especially when the guy that’s in you is the one you’ve been dreaming about for months.

And you don’t want him to go slow. No, that doesn’t feel like an option right now. Not after how long you feel like you’ve waited for this moment. Overwrought with desire, your fingers dig into the supple flesh of his ass and he lets out a broken whimper in the form of your name. And he seems to get the hint because he’s quickly ramming into you, your hips connect in a frenetic manner, but it’s so so so good.

His viridian eyes are reaming at the sight of your dulcet features quickly melting into a lewd expression and milky moans that spill out from your lips. He kisses you haphazardly wanting nothing more but to make you cum and trust that you’re nearly there. He’s hitting all the right places and his lower abdomen is rubbing your puffy clit in just the right way.

One hand on your hip and the other makes its way to wrap around your throat and, oh God, that look in his eyes and you’re totally done for. His name is clawing its way out from your throat as you feel the maddening rolls of passion drowning your soul with rapture, exposing your neck as you swell with a sigh and falter with a shudder that cascades up and down your body. Kiss after blissful kiss and Hesh feels every ripple in your body. It’s the catalyst of his peak, breaking under the pressure of your pulsating walls and convulsing body.

It’s the warmth of your neck as his teeth latch onto the sensitive skin, your strangled cries, your labored breaths that make it feel like his orgasm was flaring red, white and blue. You watch in awe as all the dewy green in his eyes fall golden like little stars in the sunlight peeking through his blinds. You’re both panting, melting into each other, and laughter spills from your lips as you hold one another closely. And the adoration seeps out of his bones when he notices that he’s springing back to life and you’re quick to respond to his passion.

And you don’t even know how many hours it’s been. Between refueling breaks and trips to the bathroom, you literally can’t keep your hands off each other. You begin to lose count of all the positions he’s putting you in, but you know one thing for sure--it’s gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning.

Hesh can hardly shake you awake. You’re all wrapped up in his arms, sharing the same covers and he breathes you in as you nuzzle into his neck not wanting to move from your cozy position. He stares at the ceiling, counting the stars he’s placed in the form of all the constellations he knows. Holding you like this and feeling the warmth constantly spread through his chest when he takes a little peek at you. It’s driving him nuts.

If he were being honest with you right now, he’d say that he’s done searching. That he’s found the one. But of course, he knows that you’re accustomed to the 1-2, hit-and-run, cum-and-go lowly standard of men who have fed you the same bullshit, so he reserves on that.

Your eyes flutter open and a sleepy smile stretches across your cute features, and he brushes away the strays to gather as much of your visage that he can.

“Sleep well?”

“I slept amazing.” You stretch your limbs like a cat down to the spread of your toes, but you feel the dull ache in your muscles and groan. “You must’ve put me in every position imaginable.”

A repentant smile plays on his lips as the warmth sidles into his cheeks. “You never complained.”

“Shut up.” You mimp, and he chuckles at the way you purse your lips and puff your cheeks at him.

Hesh's heart tightens as he watches how your face contorts into one of sadness, the reality of your limited time together gnaws at the both of you. You wish that you could both freeze this moment—just you, him, and the quiet morning light filtering through the linen curtains. But time, as always, marches on, and soon enough, the outside world will come knocking and you’ll have to go back to your boring desk job and he’ll have to go back on his confidential ops.

"You know," he begins, his voice soft, "we've still got a few more days. How about we make the most of them?"

Your eyes meet his, and there's a flicker of understanding. You both know that this time together is precious, and neither of you wants to waste a single second. The romance between you two is budding rapidly and you want nothing more than to cling to him, getting lost in the small blip of time that you will forever cherish.

"I'm all in," you reply, your voice firm despite the lingering exhaustion from last night’s activities. "What do you have in mind?"

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. "How about a lazy day? We could just stay in my bed,” he caresses the exposed part of your tummy, leaving a wake of gooseberries, “order some take out,” he nips at your earlobe and you sigh at his touch. “and see where the day takes us."

You laugh softly, the sound like music to his ears and you clasp your arms around his neck. It’s odd. You both feel like at any given moment either one of you will vanish into thin air and you’ll wake up alone in your loft on the other side of the country. "I think that sounds perfect."

For a moment, you both fall silent, simply enjoying the comfort of being close. But the weight of the week ticking away lingers in the air, a reminder that this isn't your everyday life. It's a bubble, fragile and fleeting.

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Whatever happens after this week... we'll figure it out, okay?" His heart tugs at the brimming tears in your eyes. He knows you’re trying to withhold all your pent up feelings and he wants nothing more than to help you squash the negativity that holds more space in your brain than it should.

You nod, your hand finding his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, we will." And you mean that.

With that, the two of you settle back into the warmth of the covers, letting the world outside wait a little longer. For now, it's just the two of you, and that's more than enough.

And just as you two had expected, the week flies by like it’s nothing. Days, afternoons and evenings of lovemaking, dancing on the beach, and him expertly instructing you on how to make the perfect sourdough loaf. How you whisper to each other about your deepest, darkest secrets. And he finds himself opening up to you about how he’s always felt like his neglectful upbringing made him slightful resentful and hardened. Oh how the tears flow at the admission that follows.

You learn that Hesh thinks he’s everything that his father is not, how his brother, Logan is the Golden Pony boy but he doesn’t blame him for it. How sometimes he wants to push away his little brother more than anything, but he’s all he got left. Your heart aches at the thought of him keeping all of these emotions pent up, so you listen to him and hold him tight; dewy eyed, tear stained and puffy.

These were the types of memories you wanted to create with your dream partner. It’s whimsical, light yet heavy, but not uncomfortable. It’s like eating the most luscious dessert, but its weight holds pleasantly in your stomach.

But it leads you back to where you had initially met. The airport.

The hustle and bustle is muted as the both of you sit next to each other, snugged up as he traces patterns onto your jeans in an attempt to calm you. He doesn’t want you to leave. In his mind he’s already thinking of all the time you’re going to spend in the future--and you?

You’re already withdrawing. You’re thinking that there’s no way in hell that this will thrive. Living in two different parts of the country was not ideal for a budding relationship. For an online friendship, sure, but this easily became more than that.

“Hey,” He nudges you, and your eyes flicker up to meet him. He can sense how your energy has changed, and how you’re detaching from him and he hates it. “Stop that.” He makes you face him and your eyes are distant.

“Stop what?”

His stomach lurches. The doubt creeps back into your mind, and you feel yourself succumbing to the emptiness that you’ll endure when you get back. You’re trying to protect yourself from the inevitable heartbreak and pain of saying goodbye and he sees right through it. His eyes soften, but he’s determined to shake you out of your gloomy state.

“Stop thinking this won’t work,” he says firmly, continuing to draw the patterns into the fabric of your jeans. “I can see it written all over your face, and trust me, I get it. But we’ve got something here--something real, tangible.” His voice falters just slightly as he racks his brain to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this…about us.”

The life in your eyes returns a bit more and he knows he has you hooked onto his words that causes your heart to skip a beat.

“This week…it’s been everything I’ve imagined and more.” He cringes slightly at the corniness of his words, and you can’t help but chuckle a little. He’s being so sincere, and you feel yourself choking up. “And I know we’ve just met, but I feel so comfortable with you.” He rolls his eyes a bit at his own words. “Like I’ve known you forever.” And you giggle again, nodding along with him.

He is right, of course. It really does feel like coming home, and you could get used to that feeling.

“I don’t want this to end, I don’t want to go back to talking behind a screen and twiddling our thumbs, wondering when our communication is going to dwindle.” Hesh says, facing you now. “Look, I know this might sound forward,” Your chest tightens at the earnesty in his expression and his words. “But I want to make this work. Like, really work. Like I want you to be here, with me.” He runs his fingers through his short cropped hair and he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. “I want us to figure out a way to move you out here--whenever I’m stationed, wherever we need to be.”

You feel a surge of mixed emotions--fear, hope, relief? It’s enmeshing and turning in your stomach. It’s what you want to hear, but you’re terrified.

“David, I…I don’t know…” You croak out, feeling the tears cascade down your cheeks, but he shakes his head and wipes them away.

“You don’t have to decide right now, [name].” he reassures you, and you feel your throat tighten at how donnish he’s being. “I just want you to know I’m in this for the long haul. I’ve found the one,” He softly smiles. “And it’s you.”

And it’s like a freakin’ dam burst or something with the way you’re crying, but it’s tears of real relief. The idea of staying with him to build a life together, it’s not something you went as far as even imagining. Not until now.

“No bullshit, [name]. I’m not up for losing you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you profess, but your voice trembles with the heavy weight of your feelings. “But the thought of leaving everything behind…it’s a lot to take in, y’know?”

He nods. “I know it is,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “And I’m not asking you to do anything rash. I just want you to think about it. To know that I’m ready to make this work.” He squeezes your hand. “Just say the word.”

You let out a shaky exhale, and nod. “Okay.” You laugh a bit as he dabs away at your tears again. “I’ll think about it.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile as he kisses your wrist and then pulls you into a tight hug. The sound of the announcer calling your flight ripples through your little moment and reality sets in again. This time with hope. Hope that something real will flourish from this.

As you pull away and walk to the terminal together hand in hand, you pause to stand in front of him. He easily towers over you and you remember how he looked when he picked you up when you touched down. He cups your face and softly kisses your lips, letting go too soon to place a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Text me when you land.” He caresses your cheek and you nod with a small smile on your face. Your heart aches when he pulls away, his pinky lingers for a second before he lets go, but it’s filled with something new.

His eyes linger on you as you become smaller, boarding the plane and you turn around once more to find that he’s still watching you. His expression is a mix of longing and resoluteness. You wave, and he returns it with eyes full of silent promise.

As you finally step into the plane, you can’t help but wonder if this is really just the beginning of your new life.

masterlist

mini taglist: @milkteaarttime @keegansshark

202 notes · View notes

merrinla · 1 year

Text

Story to be told

When Halsin asks you to tell him something about yourself, the answers will be different depending on who you play as.

Tav / Dark Urge: I live in mortal fear of krakens, though I've never actually seen one. Halsin: Well they are fierce creatures from what I understand... but as long as you avoid the high seas, I think you can consider yourself safe.

Astarion: Maybe I have a sweet tooth too. Halsin: Is that so? Would you seek to drizzle honey on a neck before indulging?

Shadowheart: Well, I have something of a soft spot for animals... though I've never had a pet, that I'm aware of. Halsin: Ha! Pet ownership is an illusion - nature's creatures choose their own companions. No one has true mastery over them in the end. As it should be. But it heartens me to learn you and I share the same admiration.

Karlach: When I first got to the Hells, I was so scared and lonely I adopted a pet rock. Named it Crag. Halsin: Ah, but there are no pets in nature - only companions. Though I'll admit Crag likely made for a rather stoic confidante...

Gale: I cast my first spell whilst still a babe. My mother took an awful fright when I conjured up a score of rabbits in the pantry. Halsin: Ha! Talented from the beginning, then? Almost a surprise you didn't cast magic in the womb.

Wyll: I've always wanted a child of my own. Perhaps one day, when peace visits the Coast. Halsin: I think I know how you feel... duty, eh? I hope your wish comes true. We'll need new life once all this is over.

Lae'zel: I despise sunsets, slow wits - and small talk. Halsin: Luckily there's nothing small about getting to know someone like you. There's little occasion for frivolity in nature - I can appreciate your stance... even if others do not.

Githyanki Player: I once stitched shut a wound using twine made from the entrails of an enemy. Halsin: You are... nothing if not inventive. I can only hope the foe had already expired before you began your work.

Dark Urge: I really don't know very much about myself to tell. Dark Urge: Nothing half as charming as that... it's all crimson and rot. Standard option: I don't think there's anything worth sharing. Halsin: Oh. Well, your choice, of course.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #halsin #tav #astarion #shadowheart #karlach #gale #wyll #laezel #dark urge #githyanki

877 notes · View notes

spreadinghyperfixations · 9 months

Text

A self-aware au for honkai star rail is not as easy to make as one for genshin, due to the setting and the difference between how the archons/celestia and the aeons are treated in the games, but I have an idea on how it could work.

The aeon of origin

There was once nothing. No stars, no planets, no life. Complete nothingness, except for one small life form. That life grew and grew, growing stronger in the nothingness, until it stopped. They awoke as the being that would start it all.

The aeon of origin

They were so lonely in the nothingness, so they formed other powerful beings, the aeons, but they were still in the nothingness. The origin knew what they had to do. As the aeons awoke, they could only watch as their creator destroyed their form and created the vast universe, but even as they fought each other over the millennia, they all shared one same belief. The aeon of origin will return.

----

As the trailblazer traveled the space station, she heard a voice guiding her. When other joined up with her they could hear it too, but none could identify the source, even though there always seemed to be some strange force following them, it couldn't be seen.

The voice didn't seem hostile, but it was friendly. It seemed so excited about everything and it gave good advice in battle, so they decided to let it stay. They wouldn't be able to get rid of it if they tried.

----

Nanook cast their gaze upon the girl with the stellaron inside of her. An unusual occurrence, but one that was inevitable and one that would surely soon become irrelevant in their eyes.

But... something is off.

No, not with the girl, but the being following her. It couldn't be... could it? That energy only belonged to one being, one who died to create everything. Even if they didn't exist when it happened, all aeons know that force, but why are they following this mortal?

That matters not. As the inevitability all aeons knew was coming has begun.

The aeon of origin is returning.

----

"where is that last trash can?!"

You're looking at your device as you run around Belobog with the trailblazer. "i know there's one i haven't checked, so where is it?!"

You decide to take a break by rewatching the cutscene with Nanook, but the one in the video doesn't match how you remember it. you decide to watch another, after all, that video has Caelus, but you picked Stelle, so maybe that's why it's a bit different.

But the video with Stelle is the same, so you assume you just remembered it wrong. "looking for that last trashcan must be fucking with my memory, I should really take a break... nah, I'm gonna keep looking" you speak, unaware that you didn't remember it wrong and someone is listening to you

#sahsrau #sagau #honkai star rail #hsr #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #honkai star rail x reader #reader insert

846 notes · View notes

azure-cherie · 7 months

Text

20 things I've learned as i turn 20

My birthday is in a few days though i like to keep it private I'd like to share some of my thoughts 😁 the things I've learned are mostly based off my experiences

Individuality: one can be a loner in life but that doesn't guarantee a thing about individuality, to learn it one has to be in uncomfortable places and do uncomfortable things only to realise oh that is my thing and i must pursue , though we keep acquiring things from here and there all our lives but it's our zest that makes it ours .

Don't be afraid to move alone, stay alone or do things alone , I'm still working on it and the most important part is people are so busy they don't even care what you are doing, only a pathetic person jokes about you being lonely and doing things on your own

You are watching self help but are you applying it ?? With so much information available one can often get lost in comparison and be confused about thing , to try things is a better way to decide whether we should listen to someone , most of the times people don't even know what they're saying always ask yourself before following someone's advice .

Only give someone something when you are genuinely having an excess in your life , give from what you have extra , or else you'll end up feeling empty and sad because you gave them from your part, for example : there's a friends birthday and you don't have excess to give them a gift just skip the party or give them something hand made like cards , gifts or bake cookies , if they really love you they will appreciate you and only such people are worth having around , same with your time , only make time for others when you have done everything for yourself.

Don't fall into the trap , boundaries are tangible, don't be like " oh I had such a good day my best friend is crying but my boundary is to not care i live my good life" shut up this girl right here was there for you when you needed someone we often lose our way then the people around us need to bring us to the right path , you need people around you remember. Please do this only if the other person does the same for you .

It's okay to not like anyone around you : Darwin said survival of the fittest and we mostly stay in competition with people , so it's okay to not like everyone don't ghost them because you find one thing annoying, they have good things you can look out for , focus on the good .

Give yourself and others the space : don't seem needy or desperate because you had a fight with someone or just a problem with yourself, perspectives come with time , you and they need it if it's meant to be things will be alright

It's okay to lose things , we get tired of things and people and situations and it's fine if it's worth you can fight for it but if you are staying only because of attachment it doesn't take long till it wears off , get ready for the new chapter of your life

It's okay to win , personally I realised I have been afraid of winning and that's why I don't. when you are young you can be programmed to feel like a loser but know that life keeps changing you can win if you believe it .

You don't need to fix everything about you : ahh please please don't give up on good things just because you thing you are yet to heal , no you're good go for it if you feel like it , moreover something's are just not worth it to fix or heal , simple changes can accomodate.

People who love you will accommodate for you and it goes both ways , you have to belive in the power of you and everyone around you and sometimes bend when you need to

What is not worth bending is your values , when you know something is right do what is right regardless , be the right person to yourself by doing what is right to you .

Don't worry about being a good or bad person , it doesn't matter in the long run , a narcissist thinks they're the best and an anxious person thinks they're the worst but we know what's the truth , sometimes in life you have to do bad things but that doesn't make you a bad person , you need to survive in this world things aren't cheap we suffer from capitalism and mind games , do what you need to get a good life for you and your closed ones , we'll talk about the bad deeds in hell and even god will see what you have done and why you have done it , intentions matter .

Keep a balance of experiences and consequences, don't lose out of an experience because you worried about the consequences too much and don't do something that you will regret because you didn't think about the consequences of your actions.

Never tell one person everything, don't vent to everyone , the more you vent the more possibility you have of your personal information getting leaked as a gossip, if you tell different people about different issues you can know when they betray you and dismiss the rumour and cut them off and know that some people are just better at advice in different sectors like you wouldn't ask a logical person who's invested in financial topics about your emotional turmoil it will only disappoint.

Keep your spiritual practices private , don't do something because everyone is , people like to mock , put bad energy or evil eye on perfectly fine things , it's only protection to keep your practices private or anonymous on the internet . Do some spiritual practice because you feel connected to it not because everyone is , don't follow the crowd look within yourself. This applies to deity work , magic or manifestation.

Learn about money and finances and investment, Acquire skills it's only right when you know enough about these things as they create the foundation of your life here, learn about it young so you don't suffer when older . learn everything that you can don't be afraid to be a first timer one day you'll be a pro at it and you'll thank yourself that you were a first timer , try everything you can .

Don't worry about defining yourself, you're constantly changing and that's the beauty of you , you can know who you are and you have to relearn who you are in every era of life .

Be happy for what your parents have done and forgive for what they didn't, this can be hard but don't let them be another obstacle for you to not reach your highest self it's best to forgive and move on , it's also their First time as a person learning about living.

Love yourself unconditionally, last but not the least the most important, forgive yourself, accept the ways you have changed , do things for yourself, practice all 5 love languages on yourself, give yourself the love .

I have learnt so much more and hope you do too , love you so much 🤍

Thanks for reading<33

#😋 hope you enjoy reading this #lessons learned #manifestation #spirituality #self help

319 notes · View notes

ultralightpoe · 9 months

Text

Full House ll - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Went from cute fluff to straight angst. Sorry?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (not Eddie and reader though), angst angst angst. A fight.

Word count: 10,009 (ohhhhhh boy)

Part l HERE

(THANK YOU FOR THE GIF @feodor-dostoevsky)

(Warning. This chapter contains hints of domestic violence and if any of my readers are going through that you deserve better. I love you all, also Motley will be showing signs of abuse this chapter. It's a long chapter that I'm really nervous about and I really hope you guys like it <3)

Enjoy!

Eddie had been in a pissy mood on Halloween morning of his second year as a senior, mostly because his friends that had graduated last year were all going out to awesome college parties and he was stuck redoing school. Embarrassed and alone.

But he sucked it up, wearing his favorite leather jean combo as he walked into the halls of hell, keeping his head down while people passed by him in a flurry, excitement and laughter in the air.

He had planned to just keep his head down and make it to class, no need to get into something with Harrington and his cronies. He had enough of their teasing and bullshit to get him by for the rest of the year.

Normally it was fine since he had friends, but now he was alone.

A body slamming into a locker pulls his attention to where someone in a rustic leather jacket was slamming one of the juniors into the wall of metal. The kid being assaulted was called Jeff, he was the only black kid in the grade and Eddie had seen him around a lot. The kid didn’t hang out with anyone and seemed lonely.

Shit.

The one slamming him was Billy Hargrove, a new kid that seemed to immediately become one of the cool ones. He spent most his classes not caring and any free time harassing everyone else. Eddie had his fair share of issues with him already.

It would be a good idea to just walk away and let them handle this on their own, but Eddie could not do that. If there was one thing his dad taught him it was that he could take a punch and his Uncle Wayne always told him that you should always stand up for the weaker man. Even if Eddie wasn’t strong enough to beat Billy “steroids” Hargrove, he was strong enough to take a hit for someone else.

A sigh falls through him as he makes his way over, tapping the shoulder of the assailant quickly, the second Billy has his eyes on him Eddie shoves him quickly.

Billy reacts in an instant, hands clenching into his jacket, swinging Eddie around until it was his back being slammed into the lockers. A grunt passes his lips as he sends Jeff a quick look to escape while he can, the kid gives him a grateful smile as he snatches his backpack and dashes off.

“If it isn’t the super senior!” Billy laughs bitterly, pulling Eddie forward and shoving him back into the lockers harshly.

Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him.

“What you doing here bud?! Trying to get your ass-“ Eddie loses some of his patience after the third hit into the lockers and hits Billy’s hands off of him, shoving him back enough that Billy nearly trips over his feet.

Gasps fall from the crowd as Billy glares, staring wide eyed at him as he sneers. Eddie tries to play it cool, the anticipation of a fight howling beneath his skin as he preps himself.

Before they can get into it Steve Harrington pops up, his back to Eddie as he watches Billy. “Not that I don't want to see how the freak handles business but the principal is on the way.”

Billy casts one more glare, walking off quickly as Harrington turns to Eddie.

“You stupid or some-“

“Yeah yeah. We get it Harrington. I’m a repeat senior.” Eddie snaps, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the pain. “Why don’t you find a new joke?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to make sure you were good.” Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his neck before moving to pick up what Eddie had dropped.

“I don’t need help from you.” Eddie snaps, snatching the lunch box he had gotten from Uncle Wayne and walking off quickly.

Eddie had spent the better part of that year dealing with Hargroves shit, the only thing that made him feel better was the fact that Steve Harrington seemed to be having his own issues with Billy. Then the summer between his second senior year and his third Billy Hargrove died.

Eddie had avoided the pool that entire summer but he heard about it from Jeff the day the mall caught on fire. The next thing he knew Max was moving into the trailer near his and Wayne’s and everyone was bothering her and her mother about it all but they seemed like they didn’t want to talk about it.

After he dealt with VECNA they all explained a little about what happened, and when El closed the gates and fixed the time warp she ended up bringing a couple people back. That’s how he came back.

No one had seen Billy, so everyone assumed he didn’t come back. Even Barb had shown back up (though her memory was hazy on everything).

Now, Billy Hargrove stood in the doorway of his home, catching Motley when she ran to him with an easy smile. “There’s my baby!”

Eddie doesn’t know what to do, stuck between anger and shock, watching this play out before him as Ziggy grabs at his jaw. The little toddler leans to kiss his cheek, a wet open mouth kiss that normally makes Eddie laugh, but this time he just stands there. Waiting for the “just kidding!” Or someone to pinch him so he can wake up.

“Sugar,” Billy starts, keeping Motley in his arms as he stares at Eddie. It takes him a moment to realize that when he says sugar he is talking to you. “Why is there a drug dealer holding my daughter?”

“I can explain-“ you start, watching Eddie angrily set up the crib in your shared room, jaw tensed and eyes heavy with anger. “Eds please.”

“You don’t need to explain.” He snaps, turning quickly. “No actually. You do. What the fuck?”

“I met him a couple years back. Okay? It was a one night stand from a bar, he was new in town and I ended up getting pregnant. After that he said he wanted to stay together because of the baby and I didn’t want to parent alone so I said yes-“

“So you’d rather have parented with a racist jackass then?” He laughs bitterly. You draw back, eyes wide as he does so before he sees you get defensive.

“I didn’t know about any of that. Okay? He was sweet with me for the most part-“

“For the most part?”

“He had moments of anger, sometimes I got hit. But he always made up for it. And then I got pregnant again and I thought I was happy and then….” You trail off then, shaking a bit. “I left for a reason.”

“He hit you? More than once?” Eddie bites out, hands on his hips.

“It was fine-“

“No no no. It wasn’t fine. But the fact that you’re saying it was fine and you say he made up for it means that you didn’t leave because he hit you, you left for another reason.” He sees you get nervous under his gaze and he knows he’s figuring out. Anger coursed through him at the fact that Billy had ever laid a hand on you in the first place but it’s beginning to reach tenfold when he puts the pieces together. “He hit Motley?”

“I-“

“You were okay with him hitting you, which makes me upset that you thought you deserved that, but the second he hit Motley you ran.” He fills in the blanks, watching as you crumble before his eyes with tears falling freely.

“Ohmygod-“ you sob, covering your eyes.

“And that’s why you’re so weird around Max because when you came out here you recognized her, right? And when we all shared the truth of what happened you recognized Billy in it? And you didn’t say anything because-“

“What was I supposed to say Eddie?! That I was dumb enough to fall for it?! That I slept with a racist abusive asshole one night drunk and then agreed to let him move in with me because I was scared even though I knew nothing about him?!” You snap, tears streaming down your face. “You guys would have thought the worst of me. You guys are going to think the worst of me- maybe I should just grab the girls and go get a hotel-“

“Hey hey hey.” He eases, reaching for you as you stand up to leave. His hands find your hips and he pulls you in for a hug. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry-“

“I’m sorry. I’m over reacting and being a pain in the ass because I’m surprised is all.” He mumbles, kissing your head and keeping his nose pressed into your hair. “You are very brave for leaving him, yeah? And I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, you’re not stupid you were just played. You always think the best of people and you are so fucking brave for getting the girls out of there.”

He lets you sob into his chest for a minute, rubbing your back in comfort as he holds you to him tightly.

Eddie was gonna figure this out. He was gonna find a way to get Billy Hargrove out of his life for good.

The morning was always filled with excitement, mostly on Motley's part. She loved getting ready for the day, for all the things she would do. She loved talking yours and Eddie’s ear off about the plans for the day. Then she would be crankier when she got home and she knew it was time for bed, but Eddie loved her in the mornings because he loved seeing her excitement.

He wore his glasses in the morning, while he helped get them ready for the day since you both liked to tag team the morning and get the process done faster. This morning was his turn for Motley, who currently sat at the table blabbering on about how she was excited for secret santa while Eddie sat at the stove watching the pancakes bubble.

“-and I keep thinking what if Vinny gets me? He will probably get me the dumbest thing ever and I would be so upset. But what if Troy gets me, oh I hope Troy gets my name- Daddy are you listening?”

“I’m listening, pretty girl.” He smiles, looking over her shoulder where she sat coloring. “You hope Troy gets you. Cause you have a big ole crush on him.”

“DO NOT!” She yells which makes him laugh and turn back to the pancakes. Before he knows it he feels a pair of arms wrap around him, with you kissing along his exposed back slowly while ge fights off the blush.

“You cooking bacon without a shirt, handsome?” You smile and he tries not to laugh.

“I can’t feel half the skin on my stomach anyways.” The scars made sure of that. “You want a piece of bacon?”

“I’ll wait to eat with you and the girls. Did we get any yogurt on our last trip to the store?” You ask, moving to the fridge to check. Eddie takes a moment to admire you before looking to where Ziggy sits in her high chair, playing with a piece of paper that Motley gave her.

“Morning metal head.” He coos, walking forward to kiss her head. She giggles and claps before Motley follows what Eddie did, kissing her sisters head.

“Come here Daddy.” She smiles, and he bends down to let her kiss his forehead which makes her laugh.

He sets them both up with plates, eating breakfast quickly before rushing to get a shirt on as you bring them both to the door to get them in shoes. When he gets back he finds Motley with her arms crossed and shaking her head.

“What’s going on?”

“She found out Steve is taking her to school.” You sigh, trying to grab her foot.

“I want Papa to take me. He said he wanted to!” She snaps and Eddie watches you tense up, choosing to intervene here.

“I got this, go grab her bag.” He smiles, switching spots with you. “Alright. No playing around. Metalheads put their shoes on when told.”

“But daddy-“

“Ah.” He holds up a finger and she sighs before grabbing the left shoe and moving to put it on her right. “Wait. This is a good time to teach you left from right.”

“I’ve got time.” She smiles , watching him.

“Alright. This is left,” he holds out his left hand, the metal bracelet he always wears drawing Ziggys attention as she waddles closer.

Motley holds out her right hand, repeating “left.”

“No. That’s right.”

“I’m right?”

“No. That hand is right.”

“Yeah daddy. I know I’m right.” She scoffs, staring at him like he’s insane.

“No pretty girl. You’re opposite of me, like a mirror. So if this is my left hand you’re left hand would be….” He picks up her left hand, wiggling it a bit.

“Oh. So this would be my right hand.” She mumbles, shaking her right hand.

“Exactly. So if this is your left shoe it would go on…..”

“MY LEFT FOOT!” She yells excitedly which makes him smile.

“You got it! You rockstar!” He helps her tie it, letting her rest her foot on his thigh before switching the feet and tying the next shoe.

“We ready to go?” You ask, coming around the corner and smiling.

“Daddy taught me my left from right, Mommy!” She giggles, rushing to get her bag and holding your hand as you lead her out of the house with Eddie close behind, Ziggy in his arms trying to reach for the bandana on his head.

“Hey Uncle Steve,” she calls, running up to him to hug him. “I know my left from right!”

“You’re a genius kid!” He smiles. You pull her attention, kissing her forehead before kissing Steve’s cheek. Eddie follows, kissing Motley then snatching Steve and kissing his cheek which makes everyone laugh. Ziggy coos the second she sees Steve and he instantly makes grabby hands at her.

“There she is, my pretty little angel.” He coos, bouncing her up and down as Motley climbs in his car between his two sons. Vinny glares while Jackson waves his grubby little hands. The kid was four and thought the best thing to eat was a crayon.

“You know what gender the baby is yet?” You ask, watching Steve with Ziggy.

“No. But Nancy is sure it’s another boy.” He sighs out. “And she wants to name one after her brother.”

“Do we need another Mike?” Eddie laughs which makes Steve laugh as well.

“That’s what I said!”

“Alright, I have to head off. Drop Ziggy off at daycare before work. Have a wonderful day boys.” You smile, grabbing Ziggy from Steve who sighs in disappointment, before kissing Eddie and heading off to your car.

Steve turns to Eddie, a raised brow, he opens his mouth to start asking but Eddie holds up a hand. “Nuh uh. We don’t talk about within hearing age of Motley.”

“Why’s that?” Steve asks, squinting. “She get upset?”

“The opposite.”

“But the guys a massive dick!”

“And that’s her dad.”

“You’re her dad.”

“No, I’m the step dad.” Eddie sighs, something clenching in his gut. “I gotta get going. Thanks for dropping Motty off.”

The thought that he was just the step dad stuck, it clung to him like a second skin, sticking like a shadow over the sun. He thought about it while he tucked the girls in, and when he woke them up. He worried over the thought of Billy fighting for custody and turning the girls against Eddie.

He was just the step-dad.

This is what he was thinking about as he changed the oil on one of the cars in the shop, a frown stuck to his face as music played in the background. It was Dylans, the other repairman that worked today, turn for the stereo and he was playing all the rock hits. Which included ‘rock you like a hurricane.’

And all Eddie could imagine was his girls having a dance party but instead of him being there it was Billy. Billy dancing with them to all the music and-

“HI DADDY!” Motley shouts, making Eddie gasp in shock, whipping his head to find her on all fours so she could see him under the car.

“Hi pretty girl.” He smiles, using the cart to roll out from under the car and sit up, whipping the bandana off his hair as she whirls around the car to attack him, roaring like a tiger as she jumps on him. “What are you doing here?”

“School let out early today, they have their christmas party tomorrow and then winter break.” You explain, walking around the car with Ziggy on your hip, still wearing the cute diner uniform. “Motley wanted to come grab you for lunch.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, laughing when she slips a bit and he has to catch her before she hits the floor. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Pizza.”

“Pizza?!” He acts shocked, eyes wide as she begins laughing. “Well I don’t know about that…. I don’t really know if I like pizza.”

“You LOVE pizza.” She scoffs, jumping up and dashing to the radio to turn it down. “Does Dylan want pizza?”

“Why thank you for asking little lady.” Dylan smiles, wiping his hands on his suit. “I love pizza.”

“Hear that daddy? We have to go get pizza for Dylan.” Motley sasses, coming back over to snatch Eddie’s bigger hand between her own. “Get uppppp!”

She groans as she tries to lift him, and Eddie picks himself up so she thinks she was able to do it. “Jesus you are strong.”

“I pulled a secret santa today, and you’ll never guess who I got!”

“Troy?”

“No.” She sighs, disappointed for just a moment before her face lights up again. “I got Samantha, she likes jump rope.”

“Yeah? Is that what we are gonna get her then?” He chuckles, moving to wash his hands as you go and put Ziggy in the car.

“Well I don’t know. I don’t want my gift to be too basic and not surprising. But I want to make sure she actually likes it. And do you think-” Eddie lets her ramble, grabbing her hand and leading her to the car as she goes on and on about the ideas she has for gifts.

The store was busy when Eddie took Motley Christmas shopping, holding her hand in his own as walked across the street and headed into the warmth. He had been more focused on making sure she wore a coat then grabbing a coat heavy enough for himself.

The second she is in the store her eyes widen and she makes a mad dash to the kids aisle, Eddie right behind her trying to slow her down a bit.

“Alright, take a look and see what you might like to get Samantha.” He huffs, breathing into his palms to warm up his face, ignoring the weird look he gets from a do-good mom passing by in her expensive shoes.

He had gotten used to the looks by now, it’s not like he screamed father with his leather jacket and tattoos, but you always told him that he was a better father than any country club dad you had ever met. And he was constantly lecturing Motley that ‘it’s what’s on the inside that counts’ so how would this be different?

“How about this?” She asks, picking up a barbie car that makes Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“Isn’t there a price limit on this thing?” He blurts, moving to check before she is completely gone and looking at something else.

“Can I get a dollhouse?”

“For Samantha?”

“No, for me silly..” She laughs, like it was the most obvious thing.

“We are supposed to be shopping for your secret santa cheeseball.”

“Oh, right.” She sighs, moving back to the barbies. “How about for christmas?”

“Have you asked Santa?” Eddie smiles, and she shakes her head. “We’ll write a letter tonight, then.”

“Okay.” She giggles before pointing to a ken doll. “Hey daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Santa already answered my wish this year.” She mumbles which makes Eddie look at her curiously. “Last year I asked Santa to bring my dad back. And he did even better.”

Eddie’s heart practically shatters as he tries to smile at her, the vast empty feeling at her words killing him. Of course, what little girl didn’t want her dad on christmas, and she wanted Billy.

Steve was suspicious of him the entire Christmas party, giving Eddie the side eye every chance he could while you sat not far off with Nancy gossiping amongst yourselves.

Steve was room mother, and as much as Eddie made fun of him for it his friend was an amazing room mother. He had thrown the class’ holiday party at his house rather than that stuffy classroom so that the parents could come as well. His house, which was already insanely decorated for Christmas, had tons of ‘activity stations’ for the kids to do. Motley and Vinny were currently arguing over what color gumdrops they wanted to put on their gingerbread house.

Charles, Samantha's dad as Eddie found out, had wavered off after talking to Steve and himself for the past hour and finally the two men were left alone. “Who knew parenthood would be just like highschool again?”

“You’re telling me.” Steve snickers. “I feel like-”

“King Steve again?” Eddie taunts, shaking his head.

“Oh no no. You can’t make fun of me since you’re apart of the cool kid club this round.”

“No I’m not-”

“Oh yes you are. Please, everyone talks about you and Y/n. One, all the moms think you are attractive and so gentleman like for taking on the girls. Two. The dads are jealous of you cause you have this cool rock thing going on while still being a parent. Three, everyone loves Motley. She is the class princess. Everyone wants to play with her at christmas, if she shows up to their birthday party then their year is made. Admit it Munson, you’re raising a prom queen.”

“I don’t think I have much to do on that front, and it’s more to do with I’m your friend and you are the Room Mom.”

“Shh not so loud.” Steve mutters. “Nancy has been feeling a little guilty about being ‘less of a mom’ cause she spends all day at work. I tried telling her it was fine but she thinks it’s a bad look that her husband is room mom and not the actual mom.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad look. I think it shows that Vinny is being raised by two people who understand life a little better than other stuck up parents.”

“Thanks pal.” Steve sighs, leading them away so Eddie can go up and check on where they put Ziggy to nap. Steve had been nice enough to set up a little crib in his room so she wouldn’t have to be dragged around the party.

They catch up on everything, Steve complains that he think Jaxon might just be a freaky kid considering the amount of crayons and pencils he eats and how Nancy babies him. He complains that Mike is the worst uncle and never actually helps but always claims to do so.

Eddie catches Steve up on the Billy situation, which had shocked the group to no end.

“He’s been calling everyday, arguing that he should get visitation.” Eddie sighs, taking a swig from the beer Steve smuggled for them.

“That’s bullshit. Tell him no.”

“Y/n is worried that he could fight and get full custody.”

“Why on earth-”

“Because she took the girls and ran. She did it for their safety but the court will never look at it like that.” Eddie sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “All they will see is Hawkins very own mall hero being abandoned as she runs to Hawkins very own freak.”

“Motley and Y/n don’t think of you as a freak.”

“Maybe not. But Motley adores Billy, and that leaves me on the sidelines.”

“That’s not fair.” Steve sighs but Eddie shrugs.

“You know how long I hated Wayne for taking me from my dad? That man hit me and all I did for years was look up to him and try to be better. I pushed away anyone that actually cared. I know what she is going through right now, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that love she has for her dad. Shit person or not.”

“Would you rather ruin her dad for her or have her heart broken when she is exposed to him on her own?”

“I think if he ever hurt her I would actually-”

“Kill him. I’m so in.” Steve finishes the sentence before there is a quick knock on the door.

“Dad!” Vinny whines. “Where’s the gift?! We are doing secret santa!”

Steve sighs, moving to his dresser to grab the wrapped gift before handing it to his son. Eddie waits to follow Vinny, surprised when he turns to him rather than immediately running away.

“Will Motley like this wrapping paper?”

“Yeah? I think she’d love it.” Eddie smiles, watching in shock as the kids dashes out. “He got Motley? Bet he hated that.”

“Nah, he was worried she might now like the barbie car.”

“Wasn’t there a price limit on this thing?” Eddie asks, raising a brow.

“My kid is head over heels for your daughter Munson. Just be happy Troy didn’t get her. Little punk thinks he’s everything.” Steve scoffs, walking past Eddie and mumbling under his breath about Troy being a little shit.

There was a new form of hell to Eddie, not having his girls under the same roof was that hell. After a very long argument it was agreed that Billy would get them for the night, they would have a fun time at the shitty motel room.

So, after a long night of pacing back and forth, Billy finally dropped the girls off around noon, smoking easily as he carried Ziggy’s car seat in one hand.

“Really? Right by her?” Eddie snaps, grabbing the handle carefully as Ziggy coos up at him.

“Didn’t think you would be one to care, Munson.” Billy laughs, looking past him to where Motley stood with a grumpy look and her bag around her shoulder. “You used to make sure our class was coked out just fine.”

“Motty go inside.” Eddie sighs, moving to open the door for her, getting a little nervous when she glares and stomps in. “Has she eaten?”

Only when he turns back to ask Billy the jackass is already halfway in his car, sending a cocky smile in Eddie’s direction as he turns the speaker up loud.

Now left alone with the two girls since you were at work Eddie shuffles inside to go find where Motley stomped off to, finding her in her room sitting on the floor and playing with a toy he didn’t recognize.

“New barbie?” He smiles, watching her carefully. This was the first time she had ever gone with her dad and he didn't know what to expect, maybe he had been hoping for a hug or kiss. “She’s very pretty-”

“Papa got her for me.” She bites out, voice dripping with attitude.

“Okay. You hungry? I can make you-”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” She screams, rushing to slam her door in his face, the tiffany poster she had on it staring back at him as he blinks in shock. There had been fits, a couple of screaming fits, she sometimes called him meanie head when he told her not to do something. But she had never before slammed a door in his face.

Not really knowing what to do he decided to focus on bathing Ziggy first, making sure the smoke scent didn’t cling to her before setting her up to eat something.

A couple hours later you came home, a nervous smile on your face as you looked at him only to realize he was upset.

“What happened?”

“She’s upset, won’t come out of her room.” He sighs.

“Let me go check on her.” You mumble, kissing him before heading to her room and knocking softly. “Hey bugs? Why don’t you come out and say hi? Daddy can make something for dinner-“

“Eddie can fuck off!” She screams, which makes you freeze as Eddie’s heart drops and he leans his forehead on the wall.

“Motley Marie-“

“NO!” She screams from the other side of the door and Eddie feels like he might throw up.

“Maybe I should go to Wayne’s tonight?” He offers, shaking a bit as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I need to help him fix the replace his fridge anyways”

“Eds, no.” You mumble, tears welling up in your eyes as you shuffle closer. “She’ll be fine in a bit. We just need to get her to eat and-“

“She’s not gonna come out to eat if I’m here. I’ll come back tomorrow to see if she’s feeling better. Okay?” He tries, rubbing your arms in a comforting manner. “Just one night, maybe she will eat and calm down”

You shake your head, crying, but you both already know the answer. And Eddie already knows this might not work out for him.

After packing an overnight bag and heading off he makes it to his Uncle Wayne’s and spends the night there, hoping Motley would feel better if he wasn’t there.

He helps Wayne sort out the kitchen, both of them planning on switching the fridges out in the morning now that his is empty. So, later in the night, Eddie lays on the couch staring at the ceiling.

He couldn’t fall asleep without you beside him and he’s used to seeing the hall light under the door so the girls could see if they needed to get to the bathroom or your room.

He tossed and turned, doing his best not to get too upset at all of it before he began thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.

He never wanted to hurt the girls, and as much as he loved them and loved you there was always that thing about “if you love someone set them free.” So, as much as he hated it, he figured maybe it was time for some breathing space. Let Motley learn about her biological dad for a bit, and he would take whatever he could get even if it was just a dinner a month. Anything to make sure she didn’t hate him forever.

So, around 6am, when he finally managed to close his eyes and get some sleep he had decided that the best plan of action was to give his girls breathing room.

When he woke up Wayne was already starting on the fridge, which made Eddie realize just how much he had slept in. Jumping up quickly to start helping, he didn’t think to call you.

They spent the next few hours moving the fridges and getting the new one set up, making sure everything was working before hauling the old one to the junkyard. By the time they were done the sun was going down and Eddie was starving so Wayne offered to order a pizza.

The only problem was your car was at the trailer when they got back, with you sitting on the hood smiling at him as Wayne pulled his truck up to park.

“Hi Grandpa Wayne.” You called which made the older man smile and hop out quickly to give you a kiss before moving to say hi to the girls in the back seat.

Eddie moves to hug you, kissing you deeply before you pull back and smile. “You didn’t call, and we called this morning but no answer so I figured you boys were busy.”

“Sorry. I slept a little late and we were fighting that damn fridge all day.” He smiles.

“We were thinking about going and getting dinner tonight, thought we’d come pick up daddy.” You offer, holding his hand. He casts a quick look to where Motley is sitting in the backseat, laughing as Wayne pretends to steal her book.

Breathing room.

“I actually got more stuff to help Wayne with. That okay?” He could see you visibly deplete, trying your best to keep smiling.

“Of course that’s okay. Just don’t forget to call okay?”

“I won’t.”

“You wanna say bye to the girls?”

“I….Not tonight.” He feels like he’s stabbed himself in the gut and twisted the knife, his throat tightening up with the urge to cry. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You mumble. “And you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Right.” He smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek. When you kiss him one last time you move to Wayne, tearing up a bit.

“Enjoy your handyman Wayne. But I expect him back tomorrow by dinner, got it grandpa?”

Wayne, to his credit, smiles politely and nods. Mumbling something about making Eddie work overtime as you laugh, he hears Ziggy blubber sadly, probably upset that she’s in her car seat.

He spots Motley when you open your door to get in, leaning against the window already staring at him. There is a glum look on her expression and Eddie feels that stab wound tighten. She hates him, she can’t even smile when she sees him anymore. Billy must have told her what a fuckimg freak he was.

Instead of crawling into the hole he wants to, he merely raises a hand slowly to wave, attempting to seem like everything was fine.

She raised her own hand, and Eddie thinks he’s mistaken when she presses it to the glass of the window as you drive off.

“You okay?” Wayne asks, rubbing his boys shoulder.

“Not really.”

True to his word Eddie calls the next morning, only to be surprised when he hears Motleys voice answer.

“Hello?” She asks.

“Hey Mot…ley.” Eddie panics , thinking that she might now like her nicknames now. “I called for your ma.”

“Oh.” She mumbles, obviously disappointed that it was him. “I can go get her……”

“Not if she’s busy, okay? I can call back later.” He hears her set the phone down and scamper off, feet hitting the hardwood of the kitchen as she rushes to find you. A couple minutes goes by and he hears both your voices trickle back into hearing distance, probably from the downstairs hallway.

“- dy Eddie. He just wanted to talk to you.” He hears Motley mumble, and that shooting pain was back. Eddie. She called him Eddie again.

Panic claws at him as he hears your footsteps get closer and he hangs up quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes.

After helping Wayne around the trailer he returns that evening, feeling lame and tired. Kicking his shoes off in the doorway, hearing your music downstairs which tells him you had probably started reading once putting the girls to bed.

He planned to shower and then go see you, so he makes his way to the room, shucking his jacket off and tossing it on the bed in the dark.

“Heyyy.” Someone whines, making him stop and look to the bed to see Motley climbing out from the blankets and pillows, eyes wide. “Watch it.”

“Sorry kid,” he smiles, moving to grab the jacket. “Didn’t see ya there.”

She giggles softly, moving to the middle of the bed and turning on the light before going back to her spot. He gives her a soft smile before moving to grab clothes and heading to the master bathroom only for her to call out.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He asks, turning with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry I was mean and hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I made you mad.” Tears well in her eyes as she says it which makes his chest clench.

“Hey hey. I’m not mad.” He says softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, she immediately crawls over and crawls into his lap.

“You are! That’s why you didn’t want to come home!” She cries. “You hate me now.”

“No no. Take a breath.” He tries to calm her down, rubbing her back in soft circles as she sucks in a deep breath.

“I made you mad…”

“You didn’t make me mad, I just had to help Grandpa Wayne with some stuff. He’s old now. He needs help.” Eddie offers, still rubbing her back. She calms down a bit, face pressed into his chest as she slowly puts herself back to sleep.

He carries her into her own room, making sure she’s nice and comfortable when he tucks her in before going back to the master bedroom to shower.

When he comes back out he finds you waiting on the bed, a smile smile tugging st your lips. “Hey stud.”

“Hi baby,” he whispers, moving to lay down. He gives you one kiss before laying down and shoving his face into the pillow quickly, desperate to sleep.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, rubbing a hand on his back.

“Nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Just wanted to give her space is all.” He sighs.

“She loves you Eddie.”

“I know.” He lies, closing his eyes to sleep

Motley spent the next day at the Harrington household while Eddie and you went to shop for some last minute gifts you hadn’t gotten at the beginning of the month.

With Christmas being only a week away now you were beginning to panic and Eddie was doing his best to ease your anxieties as you tried to think of what the girls would want.

“I think we got everything.” You sigh out when you make it to the car, Eddie pushing the cart filled to the brim with bags as he rubs your back. There was something off about you today and he felt guilty that he hadn’t come home until late last night.

“I think we did.” He moves away only to open the back of the van, beginning to pile all the bags in before he hears you gag and dash to the chunk of grass he parked near.

“Shit- “ he snaps, tripping over himself as he tries to get to you to hold your hair. “You okay? Nervous about Christmas?”

“Y-yeah…” you whine, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose to wipe the snot after you finish puking. “Over stressed myself is all.”

He sighs, helping you up and getting you set up in the van before moving to finish his original task.

He spends the rest of the day making sure you’re okay and wrapping the gifts. He tries to change his handwriting on the tags so Motley would think other people were signing them. Make her think she got a gift from Santa and the elves and one from Mrs. Claus before he took his coffee grounds and make a hoof print on the gift he had made from Rudolph.

He hides them all in the basements laundry room, moving to wake you up when he’s done.

Two days before Christmas Eve Motley and Ziggy go with Billy again, and Eddie makes himself scarce when they are dropped back off the next day, wanting to give Motley room to breathe in case she needs it.

He hides in the basement, keeping his headphones in as he practices guitar, hearing the echo of stomping around upstairs. She had come home in another mood, that much he had figured out by the sounds of her yelling when she came in.

The phone rings in the distance and Eddie ignores everything as he practices more riffs until your in front of him with a small smile. “That was Gareth. They wanted to rehearse? Asked if you could head over.”

“Oh?” He asks, standing up. The perfect excuse to give Motley some space without hurting anyone’s feelings had just arrived and he was gonna take it. “I’ll head over now.”

“Are you gonna be home for dinner?” You ask softly, face tense with worry and exhaustion.

“We’ll probably practice too late.” He sighs, kissing you before moving to walk away.

“Eds?” You call, making him look back at you as you stress. “Y-you’re okay…… right?”

“I’m okay.” He lies. Really he feels pathetic, useless, a lame ass excuse for a stepdad. ……he feels like his father.

She just needs space. He thinks to himself, smiling at you. But deep down he already knows it’s not working. He loves his girls but if they don’t love him back then he is just dragging them down.

And his heart breaks at the thought of the inevitable.

I don’t wanna say bye.

As he passes the hallway to pack clothes for the night he sees that the Tiffany poster on Motleys door had been ripped down the middle, and he risks a peek in to find it the missing piece wadded in the trash along with her fleetwood poster she got around thanksgiving.

Sighing in defeat he shuffles to grab his bag and head out.

The morning of Christmas Eve he wakes up to find that sometime in the night Motley had crawled into bed with you and Eddie, curled up between you two with tear streaks down her face.

Nightmares, nasty little things.

He kisses her cheek lightly before getting up to get ready for work. By the time he is putting on his boots he finds her yawning and sitting up.

“Are you leaving?”

“Only for a bit.” He tries to sound positive. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Swear it?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Triple swear it.” He smiles back, and something eases in him when a smile breaks out across her face, going from ear to ear.

So he leans to kiss her cheek, taking the good mood while he can before heading to work and coming back home by 5. Only to find Billy’s Camaro in the driveway when he does come home.

Walking into the house, tense and tired from the day, to find Billy sitting on the couch as you work in the kitchen. You send him a quick look and Eddie follows, rushing into the kitchen with you.

“He invited himself for dinner.” You whisper.

“Why?”

“Because Motley told me I couldn’t come for Christmas morning.” Billy snaps from the doorway, leaning on it like he owned the place. “Which is really fucking weird considering that I’m her dad. I should be able to see her on Christmas. And I can only assume that you’re the one saying no Munson.”

“Hadn’t even known that we had that discussion but sure. I’ll take the hit.” Eddie smiles. “Cause you are 1000% banned from this house on Christmas Day.”

“You can’t separate me from my kids.” Billy snaps.

“We’re not. You can have dinner with us tonight, but you can’t be here tomorrow.” There were far too many people coming tomorrow that Eddie did not want having to deal with Billy, and he didn’t want your day being ruined by this asshat.

“I’d prefer the dinner to be a family occasion” Billy snipes. “And last I checked you weren’t.”

“Eddie is family.” You snipe back, backing up when Billy glared at you. “This is our home. His home. He stays.”

And before he knew it everyone was seated at the table, in the most uncomfortable dinner of his life. You were just pushing food around your plate, while Eddie was doing his best to stay cool.

“How are your grades Motley?” Billy asks, turning a heavy look to her.

“I’m one of the top in my class-“

“One of?” Billy interrupts.

“They have top three. They all tie in that spot so the kids don’t lose self esteem in the competition.” Eddie explains, tapping a ring on the table in annoyance.

“That’s bullshit. If her grades are the best then that needs to be said-“

“She’s doing fine. Her grades will help win a pizza party at the end of the year.” You snap, rubbing her cheek.

“I just want to make sure I’m not raising a retard that turns into a super senior.”

“What’s that mean?” Motley asks, wide eyed as Ziggy shoves some spaghetti in her mouth.

“Oh baby, it’s noth-“ you begin but Eddie cuts you off, looking her gently.

“It means I wasn’t good in school. I got held back from graduating for three years. That’s right. I was held back another year after you…. Well you know.”

“You got something to say to me, jackass?”

“Not really.” Eddie snipes, picking up his plate and heading to the kitchen before he loses his temper. Lucky him that Billy was set to follow.

“So this is where Motley gets all that attitude huh?! Some shit for brain pathetic piece of shit starts raising my daughter, showing her shit music and telling her the world is all rainbows and sunshine. Right?!”

“We’ll she’s 7. The world is supposed to be a little brighter-“ Eddie starts, watching as Billy grabs the front of his jacket and shoves him into the cabinets behind him.

“You think you’re something, huh?! Well you’re nothing more than a trailer trash piece of shit!” Billy yells in his face, and Eddie remains bland. Not letting any motion on his face as he shrugs.

Motley was going to hate him.

This would never work because your kids needed to come first, and Eddie knew that. He would always put them first. If he stayed with you Motley would soon begin to resent you.

He couldn’t let that happen.

“No. I don’t think I’m anything more than a piece of shit. I’m quite good in that life.” He shrugs. “And it’s not shit music that she was listening to, it was her choice of music. Music she liked, and if she likes it then it’s not shit.”

Billy laughs bitterly, then Eddie can do nothing but watch his hand pull back into a fist, getting him right in the face.

Pain shoots through his face as his head hits the cupboard behind him hearing the wood crack at the impact. Motley screams out loud “DADDY!” And Eddie assumes she’s screaming for Billy to stop.

He didn’t want to hit her dad in front of her, so he took it. Punch after punch from Billy before you jump on the man’s back, hitting him to get him off Eddie.

Billy pushes you off quickly, making you tumble to the floor as Motley runs for you before you try and ease her back. Eddie can’t feel his face but he knows it’s swollen and bloody, spitting out the taste of iron as he swipes a hand under his nose, pain shooting through him when he does so.

Motley is still screaming, over and over “DADDY DADDY!” And when Billy takes one aggressive step over to where she is in your arms Eddie finally loses it.

He shoves at Billy’s back, drawing his attention back and taking one quick swing across Billy’s cheek. One of his rings slices his cheek as Billy’s head whips to the side. But Eddie doesn’t stop, too built up on protective rage.

Ziggy is screaming in the background, Motley crying for her dad while you hold her back. Eddie takes a couple more hits, pushing Billy to the door so they wouldn’t have an audience. Only problem is the second Eddie pushes Billy out he finds a cop car already waiting, the cop hopping out and rushing to the scene.

Christmas morning was spent inside a jail cell with a broken nose, Eddie laying on one of the benches staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about how much his face hurt right now.

One of the neighbors had heard yelling and called the cops, who had taken 15 minutes to respond. And since Eddie didn’t start hitting back until the end he could only assume that meant he had taken nearly 15 minutes of that beating.

What a fucking coward.

He had hit Billy in front of Motley. Oh my god her entire Christmas would be ruined right now. He was an absolute piece of shit.

“Hey kid?” Someone calls, making Eddie try to open his unswollen eye and see. Hopper stood there in mundane clothes, sighing in disappointment. “Thought we agreed last time I arrested you that it would be the last time.”

“What can I say?” He croaks out, dropping his head again. “I’m trailer trash. Always have been and always will be.”

“Come on pity party.” Hopper sighs, unlocking the door. “You’ve been cleared. Witness statements.”

So they had questioned you. Fuck.

When he grabs his rings and jacket from the clerk he doesn’t bother putting them on, keeping everything in the bag including his chain and wallet. He puts the shoes on, groaning in pain when he bends over, before moving to see that Wayne had come to pick him up.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie grunts, not bothering to smile due to the cut on his lip and cheek.

Wayne doesn’t say anything, merely leads Eddie out, keeping a hand on his arm to help lead him to the car since he can only open one eye.

When they are both jn Wayne lights a cigarette, handing it to his nephew. “Have some before we get there. Relax you a bit.”

“Get where?”

“Your house? It’s Christmas? We agreed I’d bring gifts for the girls and get a nice meal?” Wayne asks.

“No. I’m not going there. Not like this and not after that.” Eddie snaps, tears falling from his eye as he thinks about it. That would just ruin Motleys Christmas even more. He couldn’t do that.

“I just wanna sleep.”

“Edward Wayne Munson.”

“Wayne John Munson.”

The sigh that falls from his uncles lips tells Eddie that he won.

(A POV from you? Gasp!)

After watching Eddie and Billy both get arrested you had to give a statement to the police, not like you could actually get a word out considering you were sobbing.

Eddie was bleeding profusely and could barely open his eye when they dragged him to the car, Motley sobbing at your hip as they did so. The officer talking to you tried to calm you down, rubbing your back in a soothing motion that didn’t work and only stressed you out more. You begged them to let Eddie go but the officer said it was protocol and that you should call in the morning to give your statement.

But you didn’t. You sat there with that cop until you calmed down and gave a proper statement, he said he would write a report and get it all sorted so you took Motley in. Getting both girls showered and ready for bed. After tucking them in, still crying, you found yourself moving to the kitchen to clean up the mess. Starting with the the broken glass that had fallen, then the dishes before you moved to scrub the floor, crying harder when you had to scrub Eddie’s blood.

At some point Motley came out, rushing into your arms to keep sobbing so you took her back to yours and Eddie’s room to try and get her to sleep there. You put her in one of Eddie’s sweatshirts before laying with her and trying to calm her down.

“He hurt daddy.” She sobs.

“Honey, Eddie was just trying to-“

“No. Billy hurt Daddy.” She explains. “It’s my fault. I told him he couldn’t come over on Christmas!”

There it was. You had wondered since Billy brought it up, you hadn’t said anything and Eddie hadn’t. So why had Motley?

“Why would you do that Motley? That was an adult decision that you should have let me tell him. I don’t want you getting in trouble because-“

“He’s mean to daddy, I didn’t want him bullying daddy! Okay?!” She cries, swiping her cheeks. “But now Daddy hates me! He hates me mama!”

“No. He doesn’t. He doesn’t hate you, okay?”

“He does!”

It took all but 30 minutes to lure Motley out of room after Eddie left for Wayne’s, promising her some chicken nuggets for dinner and that was it.

She ate silently with you before bath time, then when you sat with her on the couch before her bedtime while Ziggy slept in her crib, you noticed her watching the door every 2 minutes.

“What’s wrong?” You whisper, smoothing out her still damp hair.

“Is daddy Eddie coming back for bedtime?” She asks, scratching her arm. “He always lays with me.”

“He’s gonna be at Grandpa Wayne’s tonight. Helping him out with something. We will see him tomorrow, okay metalhead?”

“Okay.”

Only when you called the next morning there was no answer, Motley getting dressed beside you with a look of excitement on her face as it rang.

“Is he there? Ask him when he’ll be home!”

“He didn’t pick up ,baby, I’m sure they are busy. We will see him later okay? Maybe we can have dinner at the diner.”

And that’s what she talked about for the rest of the day, you tried asking about her time at Billy’s but she simply shut the conversation down. By the time dinner time came about she was upset that Eddie hadn’t come back so you offered to go to Grandpa Wayne’s and pick them up.

You had been there for about 5 minutes when the van pulled up and you could hear the gasps of excitement from Motley when Eddie hops out.

Inviting him to dinner, only for Eddie to be nervous and say no. He looked upset, and you were beginning to panic deep down.

Please don’t leave us. I love you. You wanted to say but you were pretty sure that would scare him off more.

Who wanted the mother of two with the racist abusive ex? Right?

When you drove off without him Motley was just as upset. “Why didn’t he come mama?”

“He had some more stuff to help with.” You answer, smiling at her through the mirror.

“Why didn’t he say hi?”

“He’s just not feeling good.” Lie lie lie.

The next day you were doing laundry while Motley was dashing around upstairs and Ziggy was waddling around you.

The sound of the phone ringing didn’t draw your attention since you were too busy trying to kick the washing machine into working. But when your daughter dashed down the stairs you looked at her.

“PHONE!”

“Who is it?” You ask, laughing at her excitement as you snatch Ziggy up and follow her up the stairs.

“Daddy Eddie. He just wants to talk to you though.” And you found yourself rushing to the phone, only when you got there it was just the dial tone.

“Is he coming home? Can I do his hair when he gets back?” She asks hopefully.

“Maybe later.”

By the time you realized he was back Motley was on her own bed and the shower to your shared bathroom was running so you laid on the bed waiting for him to come out.

When he did your heart beat out of your chest, nervous and in love.

He laid down, face in the pillow as you let him know Motley loved him.

All he could say was “I know” before falling asleep and you were heartbroken.

He’s gonna leave.

Two days before Christmas Eve when Motley is dropped off from Billys he doesn’t say a word, merely tosses her bag at you as he slams his car door and drives off.

Motley storms past you, pushing into the door as you carry Ziggy in, watching her in shock. “I HATE HIM AND I HATE YOU!”

Eddie, who had been waiting in the kitchen, sulks downstairs to give her space and you feel a twist in your gut. “That’s not fair to Eddie, Mot.”

“I’m not talking about Eddie. I’m talking about HIM!” She screams, stomping to her room and ripping the poster from her door.

“Hey!” You snap, following her and trying to get her to stop as she tears down the Elvis and Fleetwood Mac poster.

“I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM! It’s bullshit!” She screams, slamming the door. Only she slams it so hard it creaks open a little. Before you could make it worse the phone rings and you find yourself heading downstairs to tell Eddie about the call.

The excitement on his face breaks your heart as you realize he is so desperate to get away from you. Jesus you trapped him didn’t you?

By the time Motley comes out of her room she looks around for a minute, sitting at the table. “Where’s daddy?”

“Band practice.” You smile.

“When will he be back?”

“Don’t worry about that. Just eat.” You felt bad about the short answer. But you were upset about the way she was acting and you were upset that she said she hated you. Not to mention the way she ripped the posters and the way Eddie seemed to run from you.

You already dragged her away from Billy once, now she was going to lose another father because of your mess. You were a terrible mother.

She hates me , and so does Eddie.

“He will be here, okay? Daddy would never miss Christmas.” You smile, crying softly yourself. “Just wait and see. Daddy will be home.”

She calmed down a bit at your promise, laying beside you.

“I asked santa for dad back last year….” She mumbles. “And he gave me an even better one.”

“Yeah, he did.”

You don’t get a lick of sleep, waiting all night for the sound of the door to open. They had to have released Eddie, right?

You overthink it all as you sneak all the gifts out to the tree, ones that Eddie wrapped while you were sick and see all the dedication he put into them which just makes your heart melt more.

When the sun starts coming up you realize that maybe no officers were there to release him and they would in the morning during normal processing hours so you focus on starting the meal and getting the girls ready.

Motley refuses to go near her presents, choosing to wait for Eddie. You’re okay with it, letting Ziggy open a gift since you know it will take her forever.

You focus on cooking while Motley waits on the couch watching out the window.

But then people start showing up for the early dinner and you begin to let that panic sink in. Steve shows up, his two sons dashing for Motley as Nancy waddles in behind them. They thought three dishes that they add to the table. Steve asks about the broken cabinet but before you explain Lucas and Mike show up with their own dishes.

One after one they all show up and sook enough you break from the crowd to go in your room and call the station.

“I’m looking for Edward Munson? He should have been released by now but-“

“He was released two hours ago.” The kid on the phone sighs. “Anything else.”

You don’t respond, choosing to hang out and close your door so your guests don’t see you cry.

He wasn’t coming, you had messed everything up like usual. God you were pathetic.

Just as Billy would say, useless as hell.

Shuffling to the bathroom to try and catch your breath, turning on the water and sitting under it as you try to ease the panic attack.

The pink pregnancy test box stares back at you from the trash bin, the actual test on the counter where you had planned to surprise Eddie.

God I can’t do anything right.

Part lll HERE

(OHHHH I really hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Please please please no hate on it! If you want to see something specific such as a blurb or scene with Eddie and the girls feel free to request. -Ultralight)

Taglist::: (Let me know if you want removed)

@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel @mariamayhemrsmunson @venuslayla23-blog @cherrycolas-things @scout141 @thehuntresswolf @natie335 @alyisdead @animechick555 @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @mysticpeachobject @jackiosstuff @slytherinroyalty16

465 notes · View notes