#when he pulled her into the truck i lost it

[octuscle]

Road Trip to a new life

Bloody hell, Chuck thought to himself! They can't just forget me here! His football team was on its way home from an away game. A very successful away game. And they all had their star quarterback to thank for that. And that was him, that was Chuck. And now they had all just taken a pee break. At a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. And hey, Chuck had been flirting with the cute waitress at the diner. And yes, he had fucked her in the broom closet. Hehehe, he thought to himself for a brief moment. A map of the state, showing the broom closets where he'd fucked basement girls, cheerleaders, or even teachers from schools he'd usually flunked out of shortly afterward. That would be a cool idea! His grin didn't last long. Shit, the team bus had left. Without him. And now he was standing here in the rain with no idea how he was going to get home.

A truck came to a halt next to him. A horn sounded very loudly. Chuck didn't react yet. The passenger door opened and a bearded guy looked out. "Son, you look lost. Can I give you a ride?" Chuck hesitated for a moment. He was still far too confused, far too angry to think clearly. "Sure, that would be cool," he replied. And climbed into the cab of the monstrous truck. It smelled of cigar smoke and sweat. Chuck looked at the driver. A short, slightly overweight guy. Unkempt. The dirty T-shirt ended just above the large belt buckle and showed a roll of flab. A greasy mullet peeked out from under the trucker's cap. Shit, Chuck thought to himself. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea. The trucker lit a half-smoked cigar. "My name is Pete. If you want one too, there's one in the compartment right in front of you. Chuck shook his head, tensed his biceps and said, "Chuck! Thanks for the ride. And I don't smoke. I'm an athlete." Pete stretched out his right arm and felt Chuck's biceps. "Hm, feels good. It'd be a shame if you stopped working out." He blew a puff of smoke in Chuck's direction. And his hand moved towards Chuck's chest. "Wait, wait," Chuck moved to the right in a sit. "No homo, dude. I only fuck pussy." The driver just glanced briefly in Chuck's direction and smiled. His teeth were nicotine yellow. "I don't care what YOU fuck." He blew another puff of smoke in Chuck's direction, pulled his hand back and began kneading the bulge in his crotch. "Thanks for the ride, I think I'd better get off now." Another puff of smoke. Chuck went dizzy. "Comrade, the next stop isn't for another six hours. We have a schedule to meet." Chuck tried to keep a clear head. But the smoke was making him tired. His head felt like it was full of absorbent cotton. "All right, Pete," he mumbled. And fell asleep.

It was dark outside when Pete shook him by the shoulder. "Get up, sleepyhead. We'll take a break in fifteen minutes and then change drivers. Chuck yawned and stretched. Driver change? What was Pete talking about? And more important now was his latte. South of his big belt buckle, Chuck made a big tent in his pants. Of course Pete had noticed it long ago. He had long since taken his puny boner out of his pants and was wanking it. As a passenger, you had your duties. And it was still a quarter of an hour's drive. It wasn't the first time Chuck had blown someone in a driver's cab. Driver's cabs, filthy toilets in truck stops, broom closets in cheap diners. He could manage anywhere. How long had he been driving aimlessly on the highways now? Two years? Got there. You had to take what you could get. And Pete was actually out of his league. But he took him a good part of the way. Gratitude was a must.

Chuck walked a little wide-legged towards the restrooms at the service station. Pete must have cum. Chuck hadn't yet. They wouldn't be driving on for another hour at the earliest. It was going to be hell if he didn't find someone to fuck by then. In the light of a lantern, he leaned against the wall, his erection still clearly visible. He took a cigar from his leather vest, lit it and waited. Almost five minutes. Then a greasy business traveler in a cheap suit walked past him. A look that lasted a little too long. A grab in the crotch. A mumbled "20 without a rubber?". And everything was clear. It had been a few days since Chuck had showered, but the guy was still greedily going down on Chuck's greasy, cheesy cock. Premium beef. Yes, that described his cock very well. And this premium beef had just been sucked clean for 20 dollars. And then Chuck sank it into the guy's ass.

Chuck couldn't understand guys like Pete. When you were out on the street, you had to take care of your body. Okay, Chuck more than others, his body was his asset after all. But while Chuck shoveled in lots of chips and a big burger and drank three pitchers of beer, Chuck ate his steak and salad, drank water and used the last few minutes before leaving to do a few pull-ups and push-ups at the fitness station behind the toilets. A few other long-distance drivers loitered around him. If they hadn't had to drive on, Chuck could certainly have earned a few more dollars. But as it was, he climbed into the driver's seat. If he hadn't had to drive, he would certainly have had a few beers. As it was, another cigar would have to do. Pete snored in the back of his bunk. Chuck turned the radio up a little louder to stay awake. And he steered the truck south through the night.

At the next break and before the driver change, Chuck was able to earn a few more dollars. There were many truck stops where he was known as a colorful dog. When you heard his heavy footsteps and the creaking of the leather, it was like a bell on a Pavlovian dog. Chuck had been traveling the country for many years. A mixture of hustler, temporary trucker and casual laborer. He had flunked out of college at some point. Stupid thing to do. He'd had a thing with a woman once. And she'd claimed he'd raped her. That taught him a lesson, since then he only fucked men. They appreciated his mouth, his ass and his cock. And paid well.

Somewhere in New Mexico, Pete threw Chuck out of the truck. He had to be out of the cab before the finish line. Pete would be in big trouble if it came out that he had let someone else drive the truck. He thanked Chuck with a masterful blowjob and a box of Cuban cigars. They would probably never see each other again. The country was big… Chuck rarely got in the same truck twice.

Chuck loved the feeling of the sun on his body. He was able to use the stop for an extensive open-air workout, a good meal, two lucrative fucks and even a shower. Now let's see where he was going. He stood by the road. It wasn't five minutes before a car stopped and the driver asked him if he could give him a lift. Chuck only asked if he could smoke in the car. Only if he didn't just put the cigar in his mouth, was the answer. Chuck got in the car. On the road again!

Pics by @ki-kink

[ginabaker1666]

As Long as You Follow

Beat Me, Daddy, Eight To The Bar: Part Five

Everett Blakely x Valencia DiRosano (OC)

Relationships of any kind during wartime are sometimes more important than mission briefings or making sure there’s enough donuts for the boys. When misunderstandings put them to the test, the least likely of the bunch to keep a level head ends up being the one to see them all through. All it takes is a bit of time. And some good humor.

Part Four Follow along with the Eight To the Bar Playlist

What’s that expression? What goes up, must come down. That one, not always pertaining to tossing something up in the air and waiting for gravity to ultimately pull it back to its rightful place, but emotions too. Temperatures, and the trickiest of them all, feelings. Feelings seemed to be the biggest culprit, running both hot and cold, I love you no I hate you. And the crash? The crash always came after you felt like you were floating on cloud nine. And it always came out of nowhere. 

It had been the perfect ending to what Val would call her worst day in England so far. Her friends were all safe, Curt and his crew included, and if she had to give it a name she’d say she was well on her way to being in love with Everett Blakely. He had given her the smallest taste of how he felt for her in his actions alone that night. Showering her in affection, never once asking for anything in return for all he had given her as they hid from the world- and the air raid- in the mess kitchen. Reminding her that he would continue to be a safe haven for her so long as she’d allow him. When Olive burst through the doors of the Red Cross hut after Val had come back, crying and looking like she had just lost everything, well, it proved the old saying right no matter how bad Val wanted to ignore it. The only question was who had made her cry the way she was; Benny or Douglass. She didn’t need specifics, what she needed was to make sure her friend was alright. As Val and Helen set about helping Olive get ready for bed, one with a soft hand to take off her makeup and wipe her tears, the other with a kind ear and shoulder, they had found out that it was James Douglass. 

“Deep breath Chickie, and tell us what happened.” Val had wrapped Olive in a hug, the pair sitting on her bed as she waited for the sniffling to die down. Helen had joined them, taking up the empty spot on Olive’s other side. 

“When we were walking back,” She hiccupped, hands wiping at her eyes furiously. “Benny, he told me that he knew when to bow out. He saw how Dougie and I looked at each other.”

“So then why is Doug mad?” Helen’s eyebrow raised, and Val could tell that the other woman was slowly starting to see where this was heading. 

“He saw me hug Benny, it was all friendly! Benny even said he sees me as a sister! And Dougie, he…” The tears had started again, but both girls knew what she was trying to say. 

“Doug saw the two of you.” Helen finished for her. 

“He’s so…” Olive gestures with her hands, trying to pick the right word. “Angry.”

“Oh, honey,” Val sighs, stroking Olive’s hand. “Don’t let it worry you. He was probably just drunk and not thinking straight.” Olive nods, in unison with Helen, 

“He’ll be fine by the morning,” Helen replied with a sweet smile. “He’s going to see you in that truck and he’ll forget he was ever angry the second he sees your pretty smile, mkay?”

“Exactly, it’ll all be alright. You’ll see.” Val grinned, and began helping Olive get ready for bed. Armed with a jar of cold cream, she set about taking her friend’s makeup off while Helen unpinned her hair and tied it up in a scarf for her, so that she could sleep comfortably. 

It was not alright. 

Everett is first at the truck the next morning, eyes sparkling as he spots Val hurrying over towards him. She greets him with a chaste kiss, one that has John Egan rolling his eyes as he stops for his morning coffee at the window Tattie is occupying. 

“Morning ladies.” Ev turns to greet the rest of the Clubmobile once he’s satisfied that he’d given Val a proper hello. 

“Morning Blakely,” Olive greets, placing two cups down on the ledge in front of him. “One for you, and the other is for Dougie.” “I don’t think coffee is gonna make it up to him, Olive,” he says, the furrow in his brow eerily similar to the one that Val makes almost daily. “He’s really upset.” “I wish he’d just listen to me,” She urges, her head pounding due to lack of sleep and dehydration. “If you could get him to–” “I’m staying out of it,” Everett responds, taking the cup on the right. “It’s none of my business if he wants to forgive you or not.” “I didn’t do anything!” Val can tell that just the discussion of it is causing Olive to get hot under the collar. Her eyes are beginning to water, and she looks like she might burst into tears at any moment. 

“Honey,” Val coos, intervening before anything escalates further. “Olive really didn’t do anything. Her and Benny were only talking.”

“She’s your friend, Val. Of course you’re taking her side.” He sighs, and then turns from his girlfriend back to Olive. “You led my friend on and I’m not okay with that.”

“Ev!” Val half shouts, following him as he begins to depart. 

She catches up to him just outside the equipment hut, his hand on the handle of the door, he’s surprised when she pushes the door shut on him, stopping him from entering. 

“What the hell, Val!”

“First of all, you walked away without so much as a goodbye, Everett,” She starts, shoulder leaning against the door to stop him from going in, arms crossed over her chest. “Second, I don’t understand why you won’t even listen to Olive.”

“Honey, I really don’t want to fight,” He sighs, dropping his hand to her waist to try and coax her closer. “We had such a nice night, I don’t want to ruin the morning.’ 

“No one’s ruining anything.”

“I’m sorry I walked away without saying goodbye…”

“Go on…’

“Go on, what? I’m sorry for not saying goodbye.”

“You’re not sorry for almost making Olive cry?”

“Val, this is between her and Doug, and apparently still Benny.”

“Oh my god, you’re just as stubborn as your damn friend!”

“Don’t yell at me, I didn’t start this fight…” He stressed. 

“No, that one’s on James Douglass.” She practically  growled, pushing off the door and turning to head back to the truck.

“Now who’s not saying goodbye!” Everett called after her. 

Val turned on her heel, stopping just long enough to see the uncertain look on his face, and hating every second of it. But she’d defend Olive, because that’s what friends did. Everett was doing it for Dougie, but that didn’t mean she liked it. Still, the idea of sending him up to fly without a goodbye; not something she would do. 

“Fly safe, please.” She called out to him, her eyes softening just enough for him to see she genuinely meant it. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

She just caught his grin as he pulled the door to the equipment hut open, before she turned to join the girls back at the Clubmobile. 

The remainder of the day had all of them in a funk. Olive was sad, Val was trying to stave off her anger and Helen and Tattie just wanted their friends to feel better. Just A Snappin had returned from its practice mission without a scratch, and Val had felt a surge of relief when Everett, accompanied by Croz, wandered up to the truck. Croz still looked a bit green around the gills, so when she tossed him a pack of gum from the open hatch, he eagerly accepted. Waving his thanks, he made his way to the equipment hut to drop off his gear, knowing that Ev needed a minute alone with Val after he had overheard the pilot and bombardier discussing their respective sweethearts that morning. 

“Hey…” Ev looked sheepishly up at Val, hazel eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. 

“Hi…” Val dropped the rag she was using to wipe down the counter, dusting her hands off before jerking her head towards the back of the truck. When Ev nodded and moved to join her, she thought that maybe, this morning's event could be put behind them. 

She quickly descended the three steps, joining Ev on the grass, but not moving any further for fear he was still upset. 

“I’m sorry,” He spoke before she could get the words out. “I don’t want to argue with you, and I sure as hell don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either,” Val sighed, taking his hands in hers. “I just… I know we both feel differently about this. But it’s also not our fight to be having.”

“Doug is real hurt.”

“So is Olive. Though to be fair, Dougie isn’t even giving her a chance to explain.”

“What’s to explain? He saw her with Benny.”

“You think he was able to tell what he really saw? It was dark and he had a few too many in him!” She could feel herself getting heated again, her eyes turning sharp, brow pinched. 

“He saw her with Benny! And Benny is just as bad,” Ev practically spat. “He knew Dougie had feelings for her and he cashed in on that stupid bike race.”

“I’m not doing this again!” Val pulled her hands back. 

“Doing what? Tell me Dougie is wrong?”

“Argue with you!” She turned, making her way back up the steps and into the Clubmobile, and Everett couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like she was speaking Italian under her breath. If she didn’t want him knowing what she was saying, it couldn’t have been good. 

“Val!” 

Helen appeared in the window, a sad smile on her face directed at him, and he knew he wasn’t apologizing his way out of this one. 

“Give her some time to cool off, Ev.”

“Just, tell her I’m sorry. Again.”

“I will, don’t worry.” Helen nodded, watching as he walked off in the same direction Croz had gone earlier. 

Just as Helen was about to turn and check on Valencia, she heard Olive shouting for Dougie as he passed. All three women in the truck held their breath, Tattie watching from the back door while Val and Helen remained in the truck. 

“He looks like shit…” Tattie whispered back to them. 

“What!”

“Like he hasn’t slept since this whole thing started.”

“Yea well, neither has she.” Val pointed out, Tattie and Helen nodding along in agreement just as they hear both Olive and Doug’s voices start to carry. 

“Dougie, can we please talk?” Val and Helen are now watching from the hatch windows, eyes wide in curiosity. “I have nothing to say to you. Save it for DeMarco.” Douglass’s words cut across to her, and the girls can all see Olive trying to maintain her composure, not wanting a repeat of this morning. “I'd like to exp–” She starts, but he cuts her off. “No need. I thought we were…” He sighs, a harsh breath pushing through his nostrils as he stops. “I don’t have time for this.” “Find time, James. Nothing is going on between Benny and I. We are just friends!” Olive stresses. “That’s not what it looked like last night,” He sighs, his shoulders dropping. The girls all see Olive’s eyes grow misty at his tone.

“If you’d just listen to me for one damn minute,” She urges, trying to hold back the tears. It makes her voice squeak, the effort of keeping it in causing her chest to tighten, her neck straining with it all, too. 

“No,” he says simply, and walks away. 

They’re all out of the truck like a shot as Olive returns. The tears are now freely flowing, and it takes every ounce of restraint on Val’s part not to go after Dougie for making her cry. Again.  

“Oh, darling, he’s not worth it,” Tattie is first at her side in consolation. Reaching into her pocket she pulls out her hip flask. With a quick glance to make sure Chick isn’t around to see, she hands it over to Olive. “Now drink, it’ll calm your nerves.”

Olive does as she’s told, wincing as the whiskey works its way down her throat. Tattie lights two cigarettes, passing one to her, hand falling to her back softly as she tries to sooth her. 

“Now,” She says, her eyes softening, though her words come out with the authority she’s known for. “Are you coming to the club tonight?”

Olive shakes her head with a deep sign, leaning against the truck and taking a deep drag of the cigarette. 

“No, I’m just going to clean up and go to bed. I don’t have it in me to socialize tonight.

“Well, you let us know. You know we’re gonna look after you.” Val is on her other side, her own cigarette between her fingers as she works to settle her own nerves. 

Olive gives a half hearted reply, stopping when she feels Meatball at her feet sniffing around. Benny is of course, right behind him with a kind smile, his preempted happiness at seeing his friend faltering as he takes in her appearance, and all of the girls around her. He’s worried, naturally, but they all reassure him that they’ve got it under control, and should they need him, they’ll give a holler. Val can tell that Benny is distraught over seeing Olive so sad, and she knows he feels partially responsible, so after he says his goodbye to Olive and the rest of them, Val beckons him over to the side, her voice low, though she knows that what she’s about to say no one passing by will understand anyway. 

“Benny, so che sei preoccupato, ma per favore non provare a parlare con Douglass.” Benny, I know you’re worried, but please don’t try and talk to Douglass.

“Lo so, non farà che peggiorare le cose, ma in parte è colpa mia.” I know, it will only make it worse, but this is partly my fault.

“Non è colpa tua. Douglass è testardo.” It is not your fault. Douglass is stubborn.

“Fatemi sapere se ha bisogno di qualcosa. Anche tu, se è per questo. Ho sentito te ed Everett stamattina.” Let me know if she needs anything. You too, for that matter. I heard you and Everett this morning. 

“Staremo bene, mi prenderò cura di lei.” We'll be fine, I'll take care of her. 

Val was acutely aware of three pairs of eyes on them as she spoke to Benny, but she knew that he would understand, and she didn’t want to keep beating a dead horse in front of Olive. The poor girl was worked up enough as it is, so to hear them continue to discuss the arguments being carried between them and the boys, would only upset her more. So, she kept it quiet in her own way, and would do what she could to protect her friend, and lift her spirits. 

That  night in the club it’s just Val, Helen and Tattie. It feels like they’re missing a big piece of the puzzle without Olive there with them, and it brings down the mood substantially. Not to mention that Douglass is sticking close to Hambone, and Ev, try as he might, wasn’t getting much out of Val. She had accepted the drink he had gotten her when they arrived at the club, and she had thanked him with a kiss to the cheek the same way she had that night a few weeks ago when he had spotted her giving Curt the what for. Before they had become officially Everett and Valencia and were still toeing the line between flirty friends and a couple. Val hated it. She missed sitting on his lap at their table, the smell of his aftershave as she pushed her nose against his neck as they danced, the feel of his hands on her waist as he twirled her around. Glancing over her shoulder, she spots him at the bar with Brady and Crank looking, for lack of a better word, less than invested in the discussion that the other two pilots were currently having. Sparring him another glance, green eyes focused but trying not to be obvious, she completely misses Curt taking the seat next to her. 

“Alright, what the hell did I miss? Where’s Olive?” He announces his arrival in a flurry of questions, as you do when your name is Curt Biddick. 

“Olive’s in bed.” Val turns to him in reply. 

“Is she sick?”

“Not sick, just,” Val takes a breath, wondering just how much Curt knows, and if Everett had divulged anything to him upon his arrival back at base. “Not feeling very social tonight.”

“Well, I know yous all missed me but, you can perk up now, ladies!” He joked, and Val knew he didn’t really know anything of what had gone on that day. 

“We did miss you, Curt, but it’s more than that.” 

“Well, how about ya give your old friend a dance and fill me in, hmm?” 

He was holding a hand out to her, and she knew that if she denied him, he’d be on her in a fury of more questions and worries. So, with a forced smile, she obliged Curt his dance and let him lead her out to the dance floor as the band slowed down a bit. 

Keeping his hands above the waist and in a respectable way, lest his mother come to England and give him a smack for anything more than that, he began to sway them gently, his eyes finding hers. 

“So, why are ya giving me a dance when Blakely is all alone at the bar looking like someone kicked his dog?”

“We’re not exactly seeing eye to eye right now.” She sighed. 

“What happened?”

“Well, long story short, you missed a spectacular bike race in the mess hall last night. Benny and Dougie had a bet. Winner walks Olive back to the hut.”

“DeMarco won, didn’t he,” It was not a question. “Is that why Doug is practically up Hambone’s rear end and Olive’s in bed?” 

“Benny won,” She confirmed. “So he walked her back, and according to Olive, he told her that he was bowing out. He sees her as a sister and wanted to be friends, but Dougie had a few in him and saw her hug him.”

“So now he’s all pissy, and lemme guess. Blakely’s on his side so now you and him are at odds.”

“You know, after the war, you could go into psychology.”

“Doctor Biddick at your service!”

“Gross, no. I take it back, it sounds yucky.” Val scrunched up her face, causing Curt to bark out a laugh. It drew the attention of Ev at the bar, and had she been dancing with anyone else, she’d be worried, simply because of the current argument at hand. 

“You want my opinion or nah?” Curt pulled her attention back to him just as the song began to wind down. 

“You’re going to give it to me anyway,:” She shook her head, letting him lead her to the bar for a drink. “So let’s hear it.”

He stopped walking just as they reached Everett, Curt giving her a gentle nudge in his direction. 

“Stop the fightin’ the both of yous,” He looked at Everett, then back to her. “And give your gal a dance, Blakely.” 

He left them at the bar without another word, wandering over to where the Major’s were congregated at the other end, Bucky and Gale pulling him into whatever conversation they were having. 

“He’s right…” Everett conceded, taking her hand and leading her away from the bar. 

“Don’t let him hear you say that.” She glanced up at him, eyes twinkling, letting him know that she was done being upset. 

“Let’s put this aside, even if it’s just for right now. Come dance with me?”

“Yea, okay,” He led her to the dance floor, finding an open space before pulling her close, her eyes fluttering closed in delight as he held her. “Missed you today.”

“Missed you more, honey.” His lips pressed against her temple, letting her know that he meant it. 

“Is it bad that I want to lock them both in a room until they sort it out?”

“We can’t do that,” Ev chuckled. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“To who?”

“Either of them.” He assured her. 

“And what about us?” She inquired, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Is it fair for us to argue too?”

“No, it’s not fair, but-”

“No buts,” She cut him off. “Just listen, please.”

“What she did was not okay, Val. Besides, isn’t Doug your friend too?”

She pulled away from him as if he had burned her, stepping back mid dance and putting enough distance between them that he wouldn’t be able to pull her back. 

“Of course he’s my friend!” She hissed, trying not to disturb the other couples on the dance floor. “But that doesn’t make him any less capable of making a mistake, Ev!”

“So you’re admitting he’s wrong but Olive wasn’t?”

“Gesù Cristo, come può un uomo essere così testardo!" Jesus Christ, how can one man be so stubborn!

“Val, don’t start yelling, not here!” He grabbed her arm, and the two of them left the dance floor in a flurry, trying not to draw any more attention to themselves. 

When they reached the bar, she pulled her arm from his grasp; it was just tight enough that she couldn’t slip away, but never painful, and fixed him with a look he had never seen before. 

“I’m leaving.”

“What?”

“I’m. Leaving.” She ground out, smoothing her jacket before taking a deep breath. 

“Honey, please don’t leave.”

“Why not? All we’ve done all day is argue over Doug!”

At that, Douglass turned from where he was at the bar with Hambone, eyes wide in shock. He hadn’t been expecting Val to be as heated as she was, but again, he supposed he should have known better than to assume Olive’s best friend wouldn’t take some frustration out on him. 

“The hell did I do to you?” Dougie had regained his composure, turning to face Val in bewilderment. 

“You,” she seethed. “You hurt my friend.”

“What, she can dish it out but she can’t take it?” 

“Woah ayy enough you three!” Curt was between Val and Douglass before either of them saw it coming, and to Dougie’s dismay, Benny DeMarco was with him. 

“Of course you’re here.” Dougie rolled his eyes at Benny, causing Curt to put just enough force into his stance and push Douglass back. 

“You hearin me Doug? I said, that’s enough.”

Dougie nodded silently, watching as Curt turned back to Val who stood statue still, utter shock etched across her features. 

“Demarco, walk her back,” He nodded at the pilot kindly. “I’ll be right there and then we’re gonna talk, yea?”

Val hugged Curt tightly before departing, and she knew he could see the tears in her eyes. He knew it before she felt the first one fall, that she was utterly terrified of losing Everett and her friendship with Douglass. For all the days she was tough as nails and kept him in line, he knew that the girl he used to walk home from work at night, who’d clutch his arm a little too hard if someone catcalled her, or cried on his shoulder when her heart was broken, was still in there somewhere. 

As she turned to leave, she could see the broken look on Everett’s face. Someone else was walking her back. Someone who wouldn’t kiss her good night, or hold her until they absolutely had to part. It was someone else, not him, and if he could, she’s sure he’d give himself the beating that Curt surely wanted to bestow upon him. But she was safe with Benny, and she’d be safe with Curt. She just wished that she was safe with Everett instead. 

Benny had walked her back, and it was the most uncomfortable silence that Val had felt in a long time. Meatball had dutifully followed his owner as he left, and trotted along happily between the two of them, stopping every so often to snuffle at the ground or bark. She wasn’t sure what to say, if she should say anything at all. She was grateful when Benny broke the silence by handing her a cigarette, the end already burning a soft orange ember. 

“Thanks…”

“Hey, you know none of this is anyone’s fault. It’s all just…”

“An alcohol fueled misunderstanding?” She turned to him, her eyebrow raised. 

“Yea, it really is,” He chuckled. “Doug was drunk last night. All he remembers is what he saw when he was drunk.”

“He made her cry twice, Ben…”

“I know. I’m mad at him for that too.”

“God, I left them in there with Curt,” She groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I left my boyfriend with Curt who, if looks could kill-“

“Woah, hey, come on now,” He drops a hand to her shoulder reassuringly as they come up to the Red Cross hut. “Curt wouldn’t hurt Ev or Doug.”

“Tell that to the last guy that made me cry.���

“The last guy had it coming, I’ll bet. But not Blakely or Doug.”

“Did I blow it with him completely? Maybe I am too much…” The words came out on a broken breath, and she felt herself about to crumble. 

“Absolutely not. You’re not too much.” Benny pulled her into a hug, knowing that she needed it, and wouldn’t be able to wait for Curt to show up. 

He traded places with the pilot as soon as he saw him approach, carefully shifting Val from his arms into Curt’s. Sharing a look, silently asking if he had needed to swing at anyone back in the club, Curt simply shook his head no, Benny breathing a sigh of relief. Offering him a wave, he called for Meatball who barely hesitated to follow him back towards the officers hut for their nightly routine. 

“Come on now,” Curt soothed, hand rubbing up and down her back gently. “No crying.”

“I ruined it.”

“What, your mascara? Yea gal, ya did.”

“Curt…”

“Ohhh ya mean Blakely? Nah, not at all. He looks like someone kicked his dog but that fella’s still crazy for ya.”

“I yelled at him.” She lifted her head from his shoulder, swiping under her eyes furiously to get rid of the tears. 

“I know, I heard ya.”

“Called him stubborn.”

“Mhmm, well, we all get that way from time to time.”

“What if-“

“No. You stick to ya guns. But, ya gotta clear your head; you’re both hot under the collar and not thinkin straight.”

“You think so? What if it ends up like-“

“Blakely ain’t him, you hear me? Yous two will work it all out, otherwise all my hard work will be for nothin.”

“What hard work?” 

“Who do ya think slipped him your favorite drink, hm?”

“That was you!?” She shouted, eyes wide in disbelief. She had sworn it was one of the girls and they just weren’t budging. 

“Yea dollie, it was me.”

“Curt Biddick!”

“Wanna see my best gal happy, so stop with the tears and go get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the mornin.”

“Love you, even if you are a huge pain in my ass.” She grinned, pulling him close. 

“Yea yea, I know ya do,” He hugged her back tightly, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. “And I know I am.”

It took a full week. A full week of Val sticking close to the other girls, and Curt. A week of Olive slipping off to bed early and avoiding the Officers Club for fear of running into Dougie. A week of the three of them trying to get her out of the funk the argument had caused. Val barely saw Everett unless he was passing by the Clubmobile or in the Officers Club at night. They had scarce words for each other, but she always had his coffee ready in the morning, and he always had a cocktail waiting for her at night. They were allowing the other to cool down, and she wasn’t sure what Curt had told him, but she ventured a guess it was similar to what he had told her. Give it time. But still, there was just enough of a reminder there for the other to know they still cared. They were not throwing in the towel. 

The boys had gone up on a raid earlier that morning, and Val hadn’t hesitated to send Ev off with his coffee and a kiss. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, send him up with anything less than her affection for him. Please. She had begged, hands holding his for the first time since their dance turned into an argument at the club the week before. Come back to me, Ev. Had made him promise he would, that she’d see both feet on the ground. And he had kept that promise. She’d spent the entirety of the time waiting for him, with her Rosary in one pocket, and her own red braid tied around her wrist. It was Curt who strolled into Interrogation first, cheeky smile and arms wide open for her. He was quick to reassure her that Ev was alright, and would be along any second.

“You gonna talk to him?” Curt asked, holding her at arm's length. 

“Not here,” She shook her head. “Not the time or place.”

“Alright, that’s fair.” Curt was quickly shuffled into interrogation by Dickie, who offered her a one armed hug and a smile before continuing on. 

Turning back to where she was working on doling out coffee, she saw Ev and Douglass enter the hut, the former scanning the room for her with tired eyes. 

“All in one piece?” She questioned, holding out two coffee cups for them both. She still had a job to do. 

“Yes,” Ev smiled, taking the cup from her before giving her hand a squeeze. “Later?” 

“Come find me.” She nodded, quickly moving to the next set of boys who were coming into the hut. Douglass had left without so much as a thanks for the coffee, but she couldn’t let it eat at her, because Brady and Hambone were waiting with smiles,; albeit tired ones, as she handed off coffee and welcomed them back to base. 

“Hey Val…” Hambone’s stage whisper didn’t do him any good at hiding what he wanted to say, and she couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Yea, Hammy?”

“Douglass is a cranky sunuvabitch without Olive glued to his side.” He carried on, and Brady couldn’t help but shake his head as he pushed his bombardier along down the line. 

“I know, Hammy, I’m working on it. We all are.”

Val was cleaning up with Tattie, the two of them quickly packing away the leftover donuts, and moving it all to the Clubmobile. She had just stepped outside when Everett finally exited the interrogation room. He had been fully prepared to end the argument, but when Hambone had begun teasing Douglass about how Val also thinks he’s a cranky bastard, well, Everett couldn’t comprehend why his girlfriend would pour gasoline on an already blazing fire. His eyes scanned the room before he caught Tattie, the brunette giving him a stern look before gesturing outside with a nod of her head. Everett, taking the wordless cue as a sign to head outside, was stopped by Tattie as he approached the door, the same stern look on her face. 

“Patch this shit up, would ya? I’m tired of my friends crying.”  

“She’s been crying?” Ev looked at Tattie with wide, nervous eyes. His stomach dropping to his feet at the thought that he’d made Val cry. 

“She has,” Tattie nodded. “So please, let’s end this, yea?”

“I’ll talk to her.” He nodded, making a break for it before he got an even longer lecture from the General’s daughter. 

She was coming from the Clubmobile when he spotted her. Her red lips were stretched in a smile he hadn’t seen in days, and it almost pained him that he was about to ask if what Hambone had said was true. 

“Hi,” She breathed, taking his hands and pulling him off to the side of the hut. “Are you okay?”

“If you mean the mission, then yea, I’m okay.”

“What else would I be talking about?”

“I’m a bit baffled as to why you would tell Hambone that Dougie is a cranky bastard.”

“What?” She stepped back, looking at him to see if he was joking. “I didn’t say that to Hammy.”

“Then what did you say?”

“Oh my god,” She sighed. “Hambone told me that Dougie has been cranky without Olive, and I said I agreed and that we were trying to fix it.” 

“So he is cranky?”

“Well he hasn’t slept from the looks of it. I’d say that constitutes crankiness, Ev!”

“I thought we were getting to the end of this, but you’re still against Doug.”

“I’m not against Doug, I’m just not in agreement with the way he’s handling all of this.”

“Well, then I guess we’re not at the end of this are we?”

“It would appear not.” She groaned, turning around to head back to the Clubmobile. She could see Helen and Olive inside, and needed to be there instead of here. 

“Val!”

“Oh my god,” She turned on her heel, staring at him as he stood there. “What?”

When he didn’t reply, she turned back, letting out a frustrated growl as she stomped back to the Clubmobile. 

When she enters the Clubmobile, her face is the picture of anger, and Helen is the first to notice. “Not you too!” She protests, shaking her head in disbelief. “I thought things seemed better after today!” 

“What?” Val replies, an edge to her tone that she instantly regrets when Helen winces. “Ev is taking Dougie’s side, I'm taking Olive’s and we're talking in fucking circles.”

“I'm sorry, Val,” Olive whimpers from across the truck, and Val turns to see she’s clenching her fists at her sides, her face blotchy from her latest spill of emotions, and remnants of mascara smudged under her eyes. “I'm sorry you and Ev are fighting because of me.”

“We're not fighting because of you,”  She flips the page of the magazine that’s resting on the counter with such force, the counter rattles under the weight of her fist. “We're fighting because of Douglass.” 

“Val…” Olive begins to protest but she’s quick to cut her off. 

“Stop that, it is not your fault! You're allowed to be friends with Benny the same way I’m friends with Curt.” She snaps, flipping another page.

“Honey, take a breath…” Helen tries to get her to relax, but it’s no use. Her rage carries through the truck and out into the open air surrounding it. 

“Does that make sense to you?” She yells over her shoulder. The two girls nod, wide eyed at her tone, unsure if she’s addressing them or not. “Everett?” 

She shouts again, still not looking up from her magazine when Everett comes around the corner, absolutely flabbergasted at the point she had been trying to make for the last week. 

“It makes sense, Val.” He sighs, looking up at her with apologetic eyes, before he turns and heads towards the Officers hut, mulling over everything she had just indirectly shouted at him. At least this time she had yelled at him in English and he had been able to understand it. 

“Did he just…agree with you?” Helen looked at Val, eyes wide at how quickly she had put him in check. 

“Yes Helen, he did.” Val closed the magazine, folded her hands under her bust and turned to her friend’s with a smile. 

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” She shuddered, a laugh punching through at the end as she saw Olive crack a small smile. 

“Now!” Val clapped her hands and turned to Olive. “Are you coming to the club tonight?”

“Yea,” Olive nodded, her smile returning. “Yea I am.” 

——————————————————

They take their time getting ready that night. Val happily sits Olive down so she can pin her hair for her, and apply her makeup. It had been a rough week for them both, Olive more than Val, and she wanted her friend to relax. Nothing to worry about while in their hut other than which shade of rouge they might wear or how she was going to style her hair. Their uniforms were pressed and hanging up, ready to be slipped into, pantyhose laid out on the bed along with clean lingerie and shined shoes waiting for a spin on the dance floor. 

Meatball had tried to follow them back to their hut after they closed up the Clubmobile for the night, but Benny had promptly dragged the husky back to his hut for a bath after a particularly muddy afternoon with Winks and Lemmon’s. So, the girls had turned on their staticky radio in the corner of their hut and enjoyed their early evening of primping and getting ready for a night at the club. The mood was light, and it felt like any other day; even Tattie seemed a bit brighter. Maybe they were getting to the end of this hellish week. Maybe Douglass would see reason, and Everett would be the one to walk her back and kiss her goodnight. Maybe the anger that had been swirling around base was finally dissipating. 

“I’m going for a smoke,” Val announced, shrugging on her jacket and heading for the door. “You two coming?”

“Almost done,” Olive replied, peeking over her shoulder as she dug through some jewelry. “Helen and I will catch you up, Chicken.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you at the club.” 

Helen waved her off absent mindedly as she applied her lip liner with laser focus, not bothering to glance up from the mirror. Pushing the door open, Val found Curt and Dickie also walking towards the club, the pair stopping to allow her a chance to catch up. Curt had his lighter out before she even reached him, the flame flickering in front of his face making him look ominous. 

“There’s the gal!” Curt bellowed as she approached. 

“Must you always yell?” She gave him a gentle shove before allowing him to light her cigarette. 

“You know he can’t help himself.” Dickie chimed in, tossing an arm over her shoulder and steering her towards the club. 

“You two behaving?” She looks between them, eyebrow raised in question. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Curt nudges her, pulling the cigarette from her for himself. “You’re out there screamin and startin fights.” 

“I think today might have been the last fight.”

When Curt looks over, he’s expecting sadness, no doubt, but is surprised to see that Val looks happier, and a bit lighter than she had been. 

“You two make up?” 

“We’re getting there. I think I finally got my point across.”

“What is the point,” Dickie asks. “if you don’t mind me asking.”

“That if I can be with Ev and still be best friends with Curt, Olive can be friends with Benny while still being with Douglass.”

“And Blakely knows this now?” The Co-Pilot inquires, looking at her curiously. 

“Like I said,” Val nods. “Got my point across.”

“That means she yelled.” Curt clarified. Stealing her cigarette back from him she shooed them both into the club. 

She hadn’t been waiting long when Olive and Helen strolled up, arms linked and smiling about something. This, Val thought, was how things should be. Her friends, happy. Her boyfriend, happy. Everyone safe. She stubs out her cigarette against the wall as she greets the pair, her voice carrying across the space between them. When she hears the door open behind her, she sees Olive pale immediately as she moves to stand behind Val, clutching her hand tightly.  It’s Dougie that’s exited the club, and he looks the worst of them all. 

“Douglass.” Val nods to him, watching him closely. 

“Valencia,” He replies, gesturing behind him as he speaks. “Ev's waiting for you inside.” 

Val can feel Olive’s nerves radiating off of her, doing her best to keep her out of Douglass’s line of sight. They’re so close to being inside the club, so close to a night around their table with cocktails and laughter. She’s so focused on the next step, that she completely misses Tattie as she slides up next to them, cigarette burning in one hand, gaze focused on the group that had gathered. 

“Jeez, you look lousy, Ol,” Tattie says, unaware of Val trying to shield her. “Still not sleeping?” Val doesn’t hear her reply, but a quick glance behind her and she see’s Olive shaking her head silently in response. She’s chewing on her bottom lip, the lipstick that Val had applied for her now staining her teeth. 

“I'm sure Benny would give you some place to sleep,” Dougie spits. The words leaving his mouth so quickly, if Val hadn’t been paying attention she might have missed it. “If he hasn't already.” 

Dougie’s face falls the second the words leave his mouth,  instantly regret washing over his features as the weight of what he’s just said settles over them all like the fog that perpetually covers England. It’s thick and murky, and wading through it makes you unsure because you can’t see where you’re going, or what’s going to happen next. Olive’s face crumples, and try as she might to hide it, a sob breaks free from her throat and out into the night air. 

“Dougie! Jesus Christ!” Everett shouts. The door of the club swings shut behind him, and he’s shocked at what he heard leaving his friend's mouth. 

Timing was everything, it seemed. Val is on Dougie in a flash, arm pulled back and ready to swing. Something, she thinks, Curt should have done days ago. James Douglass deserved the sense beat into him as far as she was concerned, but Tattie is just as quick as she is and she’s pulling her back with all the force one would expect from General Spaatz’s daughter. 

“Val, no, no!” Tattie is dragging her away as she shouts, the sound becoming almost guttural as her throat gives out. 

“How dare you, James Douglass!” She roars. “Look at the fucking state of her!” 

Everyone silently turns to Olive who is wrapped up in Helen’s arms, her cries muffled as Helen holds her tightly, and does her best to soothe her through all the ruckus. .  

“Olive,” Dougie starts, his voice cracking as he takes a step closer to her.

“No!” 

It’s Helen who shouts, surprising everyone as she puts her hand in Dougie’s face, stopping him from getting even a step closer to the girl she’s tending to. 

“Not until everyone has calmed down,” She continues, speaking firmly, both Tattie and Val looking on in surprise as mild mannered, sweet, Helen is the one to put her foot down. “You especially, Douglass.” 

He nods quietly, hands behind his back as he watches Tattie lead Val into the club, the green eyed Italian practically snarling at him on the way past. She’s not paying attention to whether or not Everett is following behind, her focus entirely on Tattie’s grip on her arm, the noise of the club as she walks through the doors, and the smell of cigarette smoke as Tattie lights them each one. 

“I’m starting to wonder what would have happened if I had left the hut five minutes later.” Tattie exhaled, smoke swirling around her, making her look almost ethereal. 

“You’d be explaining to Harding why Doc Stover was sewing James Douglass back together like Raggedy Anne.”

“Jeez, he really put his foot in it didn’t he.” 

Val was about to reply when the door swung open, Helen and Everett entering together, both looking like they needed more than just a drink, but also like they had accomplished something. 

Helen motioned for Tattie to join her, the two linking arms and heading further into the club to secure a table and some drinks, while Val and Everett stood staring at each other in the doorway like two awkward teenagers. 

“Where’s Olive and Dougie?” She asked, back pressed against the wall, unmoving. 

“I did what you suggested last week,” Everett shrugged. “Locked them in a room to sort it out.”

“Everett!”

“No,” He chuckled. “They’re in the mess hall, talking.”

“Are they okay unsupervised like that?”

“They’re fine. I think they’re both too tired to keep fighting.”

“And what about you? Are you too tired to keep fighting?”

“Sweetheart,” He took the three steps separating them, his hands taking hers and pulling her away from the wall and into his arms. “I’ve been exhausted since it started.”

“Me too.” 

His arms came around her, pulling her flush against his body. Holding each other in the quiet of the entryway, Val could feel all of her anger dissipate. She had been a pot of hot, boiling water, all week. Bubbling with anger and fear, and now, the steam was floating off the top of the pot and taking everything with it. 

“I should have listened to you.” Everett murmured, face nuzzled into her hair as he held her. 

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” She whispered, pressing herself closer, her hands gripping fistfuls of his jacket. 

“You yelled at me in Italian,” He chuckled. “Curt said that means you’re really mad.”

“It sort of just happens.” She shrugged, pulling back so she could see his face. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what you said.”

“I called you stubborn.” She winced. 

“I deserve that. I was really stubborn.”

Everett’s hands slid around to cup the back of her neck, thumbs brushing the underside of her jaw as they stood there. The first fight, over. All that was left was to make up- truly make up. 

“I’m sorry,” Val sighed, feeling Everett’s lips brush over hers like a whisper. “I’m so sorry…”

“Shh, It’s okay, it’s over, sweetheart.”

“I thought I ruined it...”

“You didn’t ruin a damn thing,” He shook his head, leaning down to press his lips fully to hers. “Not a damn thing.” 

Val pulled him back down to her instantly, her lips molding to his, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket to pull him closer. She wanted to be as close as she could  after not having him near all week, as close as was not considered indecent as they stood in the entrance to the Officers Club where anyone could happen upon them. When Everett pulled away for air, she chased him on a gasp, her breathing ragged, begging for him to come closer again. 

“I’m sorry, too.” He sucked in a breath, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“This was a miserable week,” She groaned. “I hated every second of it.”

“Can only imagine how Olive and Doug felt.” 

“Speaking of,” Val shook her head. “We should really check on them.”

Nodding, Everett reluctantly pulled away from her, taking her hand and leading her further into the club to seek out their friends. When they reached the table, they found Helen and Tattie with Benny, Curt and Dickie. Meatball was currently biting at Gale Cleven’s heels across the room. No Olive or Douglass to be found. 

“Look who it is!” Curt exclaimed, slamming his beer down and causing it to slosh all over his arm and the table.  

“Jesus Curt, you’re a mess.” Tattie shook her head. 

“Forget it,” Curt shook his arm out behind him, spraying beer all over the back of an unsuspecting Crank. “Yous two kiss and make up?”

“Yea,” Val grinned. “We did.”

“Finally!” Helen clapped her hands together in excitement. “Where’s Olive and Doug?”

“They’re not here?”

“No…”

“They’re still talking?” Val’s eyes went wide, suddenly worried that Ev had sent them on their way, alone. 

“I guess? You think we should check on them?”

“For my own sanity, yes Helen, we should.” 

When the whole table stood to follow Val and Helen out of the club, neither could really say they blamed any one of them. Every one of them had been involved either directly, or indirectly, and wanted to see what would become of Olive and Douglass. So they headed back out into the night air, Val tugging Everett along with her while Helen and Tattie were right at her side. 

“God I hope they haven’t killed each other.” Tattie sighed just as they rounded the corner to the mess hall. The girls try to peer through the small windows in the door, but the lights are off in the mess hall and they can’t see anything in front of them. The boys, all hanging back, are watching to see what the girls might do next. 

“I can’t see a thing!” 

“Shh!”

“It’s too dark!”

“Why don't yous three just go inside?” 

“Because, Curt,” Val turned and fixed him with a look. “We can’t go in there if they’re still in there.”

“Where else would they be?”

“I don’t know,” She sighed. “There’s dozens of places they could have run off to.” 

“Why don’t you look through the windows on the side?” Benny offered, gesturing around to the side of the building. Val’s eyes lit up as she pulled Helen and Tattie around the side with her, stopping short when she realizes that they can’t see in the windows. They’re all too short. 

“Everett!” She calls, her head coming around the corner to look for him. “I can’t see!”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Give me a boost?” She’s batting her lashes and looking at him like she’ll give him the whole world if he helps her. And he knows that even if she promised him nothing, he can never deny her anything. 

“Come on,” He quickly shrugs off his jacket, passing it over to Curt so he can join the girls. “Benny, Dickie, come give the other two a lift would ya?”

“What about me?” Curt groans, now holding all of the jackets. 

“I’m not lifting you up, Biddick.” Everett looks at him in mock disgust, hands gripping Val’s waist as he prepares to hoist her up onto his shoulder. 

“Okay honey, just like when I gave you a boost into the fort, yea?”

“Got it.” She nodded, waiting for him to count to three. She’s on his shoulders faster than she can blink. Leaning against the window, Val uses her hands to brace herself so she can see inside. Helen is next to her, one hand on Val’s shoulder for support while the other is pressed against the side of the building. 

“Oh my god!” Val exclaims, her excitement causing her to lose her balance and almost slip from Everett’s shoulder. 

“What! Someone tell me what’s goin on up there!” Curt hollers from the ground. 

“Benny, move a little closer…” Tattie is trying hard to see inside, her hands over her eyes like binoculars to block out the glare against the window. Below her, Benny lets out a swear in Italian that has Val cackling. “Wow!”

“He’s kissing the daylights out of her!” Helen calls down to the boys, a smile on her face. 

In her excitement, Val begins banging on the glass, Helen joining in with her as their laughter turns into uncontrollable giggles. 

“Well, they saw us…” Tattie grins, tapping Benny to set her down on the ground before she topples over. Val and Helen are close to falling, but Everett and Dickie have them both on the ground before they risk hurting themselves. 

“I don’t think they’re coming out,” Val is beaming as she throws her arms around Helen and Tattie, her happiness contagious. “Good for them.”

“Come on ladies,” Helen gestures towards the direction of the club. “Let’s leave them to it.”

As they turn to head back, Everett pulls Val under his arm, tucking her against his side as they walk. He’s smiling as he plucks the Lucky Strike from behind his ear and lights it, handing it off to her for the first pull. Her red nails glow as the ember reflects off them, her smile threatening to split her face in two as she hands it back to him. 

“Is all right in the world now, sweetheart?”

“For now…”

“Only for now?” He questions, stopping just outside the door to the club. 

“When this war is over, then my world will be right again.”

It was the kind of night that seemed to go on forever. No one wanted to go to bed when the club had emptied out, all of them high on adrenaline and making up for lost time they had walked from the club to the hardstands. Laughing and sharing cigarettes, the girls giggling a little extra as the alcohol pulsed through their veins, the boys all watching with smiles on their faces and glimmers in their eyes. They had argued over whose fort to hang out in front of; Ev and Douglass lobbying for Just - A - Snappin while Benny tried to steer them towards Our Baby. Curt and Dickie didn’t care whose fort they set up camp in front of, because according to Curt it was getting increasingly difficult to not polish off the bottle he had swiped from behind the bar upon exit. And so, they picked a spot in the grass between the two Flying Fortresses, Meatball stretched out next to Benny, and continued to just be together. A motley crew if Val had ever seen one, but they were her’s. They had stayed there until the sun began peeking over the horizon, when Thorpe Abbotts was bathed in the soft orange glow of morning. Only then did they leave. 

Helen was dozing on Dickie’s shoulder, his jacket tossed over her shoulders, and Tattie had gotten cozy between Benny and Meatball, the Husky laying over her legs for a little extra warmth. Olive was tucked under Dougie’s shoulder, and Val was laying with her head in Everett’s lap, his fingers combing through her curls as she relaxed for the first time in days. Curt had his head in her lap, awake but silent, and Val couldn't remember the last time her friend had been so calm. 

“Hey,” Olive mumbled sleepily, her foot nudging Val’s. “I know I said it a lot this week but, thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For having my back,” She signed, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “For reminding me what it’s like to have true friends.”

“Olive, I will always have your back, you hear me?”

“Yea,” She signed contentedly, snuggling further into Dougie’s chest. “Yea I hear ya.”

Nothing else needed to be said between them, she realized. All it took was a simple thank you and a reminder that she wasn’t alone, for Val to realize that Olive had finally put it all behind her. Douglass had pulled her aside earlier when he and Olive finally returned to the club, and before anything was said between them, he had hugged her. His apologies were profuse, and Val had to stop him before he started rambling; he had smoked two cigarettes in the time it took her to get him to understand that he was forgiven, and that it would take something much bigger than that to ruin the friendship they were building. She was beginning to think of him as her second Curt- brash and a bit off the walls, but a good heart. All of them had good hearts. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and she counted herself lucky in being able to share in that. With a content smile, she snuggled deeper into Everett’s lap, holding on tight to the hand that wasn’t playing with her hair. 

“Hey, Doug,” Ev spoke lowly, not wanting to disturb the peace around them. “Should we get these girls back to the hut so they can sleep?”

“Nah,” Doug replied, smiling. “Might not get a chance at such a clear sunrise again for a while.”

“You’re right pal. Besides, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful before.” 

“I couldn’t agree more. It sure is beautiful.”

“Bellissima…” Val whispered in quiet agreement. 

Everything was Bellissima. 

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Blakely & Val, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @rowdy-redhead @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @roosevelt-stalin-cocacola @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85 @hephaestn @ktredshoes @barrykeoghussy @peachessndreamss @hellfirequinnie @spinteresting @precious-little-scoundrel @manonsmanicmind @prettyinlimegreenboots

[saltysultry]

Untouched: Part Two

Pastor Lemuel Childs x OC

Synopsis: Pastor Childs has been lost this past year after what his family and the parish went through. But when a young woman comes into town, aimless and without guidance, the Pastor takes it upon himself to be her shepherd, and lead her out of the darkness... And into his arms.

Warnings: older man x young woman, religious exploitation (kinda), religious trauma, eventual smut, angst, OC is a virgin, Pastor Childs is not a great person but he sure is hot as hell, I apologize for any spelling errors

@justme12200 @its-in-the-woods @hiddlebatchedloki

Word count: 5.5k

Lemuel hung back after the service, thanking everyone for coming and catching up with some parishioners while Virginia waited outside the church. She was still reeling from the emotions that had flowed through her during the service. It was a rush unlike anything else and Lemuel was there at the center of it all, guiding her through the motions with a steady hand.

“Alright, let’s close ‘er up.” Lemuel appeared at the exit with Hank and a girl no older than eighteen with long brown hair and dressed in a puffy coat. She slid the church door shut and locked it. “G’night Hank, see ya ‘round.” The two men shook hands and Hank bid the other three goodnight.

Virginia was lost in thought when Lemuel touched her elbow, bringing her back into reality. “You alright there?”

“That was an incredible service, Pastor.” Virginia said.

Lemuel smiled proudly, looking down at the muddy ground beneath him. Was he blushing? “Well, thank you, Miss Godwin. Before we head home, I wanted you to meet Dilly.”

“It’s nice to see a fresh face at service.” The young girl said with a polite smile. “You’re new to town?”

Was this girl Lemuel’s daughter? She was young enough but it was strange that Lemuel hadn’t mentioned her already. 

“Yes, Joshua Godwin was my uncle. I inherited his house and your pastor was kind enough to invite me to your church.” Virginia said, extending her hand out to Dilly, who bashfully took it and shook it. “Call me Virginia.”

“Alright, Virginia.” Dilly repeated, looking between the newcomer and her pastor. “Well, we best get home for dinner. I prepared chicken.”

“I told Dilly you was joining us for dinner. She’s spoiling you.” Lemuel said before the trio made their way to his truck. 

Dilly rode between Lemuel and Virginia, awkward and quiet. She seemed nice enough, but there was something that put the girl on edge. Virginia wondered if it was her presence, maybe it was Lemuel, who seemed to put off other members of the community. She still didn’t know the relationship between Dilly and Lemuel. Father and daughter or husband and… Really young wife? Virginia had met couples with extreme age differences when they belonged to remote churches.

They arrived in under five minutes, pulling up to a house in a clearing. Inside, it was rather normal-looking. It had all the comforts of home, was well lived-in, and neat. Dilly excused herself to the kitchen quickly, leaving Lemuel and Virginia alone in the living room.

“I’m real pleased you enjoyed the service, Miss Godwin.” He said, taking a seat on his armchair while Virginia took the couch. 

“I had never felt so close to… I don’t know, it was as if God’s arms were lifting me up.”

“You felt the presence of the Holy Ghost.” Lemuel said. “He’s always there, you just need to look for him and let him in. You let him in.”

“I did.” Virginia smiled. “The others really respond to you well.”

“It ain’t about me, though.” Lemuel affirmed. “It’s about the Lord and their relationship with him. I only guide those who seek guidance.”

A stranger in a new place, far from home and without any family to go to, all Virginia wanted was some guidance. And ever since he had come to her rescue that night on the road, it seemed that the Lord was telling Lemuel that he was meant to guide her to him, into his parish and at his table. A lost sheep in need of a shepherd. 

Lemuel hadn’t forgotten her when he preached to the congregation. He saw her as she raised her arms up, praising Jesus’ name and welcoming him into her heart. She had gripped at her own chest, hand over her heart while she whispered her praises. He couldn’t deny, she looked so beautiful in the dim light of the church. So alive. So vibrant. 

“She your daughter?” Virginia asked. 

She hadn’t noticed any photographs of Dilly anywhere in the house. In fact, there were barely any picture frames, just crosses, clocks, and paintings. Nothing that indicated family. 

Lemuel sighed, leaning over with his elbows resting on his knees. Virginia didn’t know she had asked a touchy question, but he understood why she assumed as such.

“She’s my ward. Her mama ran out on her ‘bout a year ago. She was alone for a month before I took her in.” Lemuel said. “Her mama don’t know what she left behind.”

“Poor thing.” Virginia frowned. 

The more Virginia learned about Lemuel, the more fascinating he became. He was a generous man who took those who needed help under his wing. He was also brave, or stupid, enough to handle poisonous snakes on the regular and firmly believed in God’s will. He was tough as much as he was tender. Much like God’s love, Lemuel instilled both hope and fear within Virginia.

“Tell me about your family.” Lemuel said, changing the subject. “You close with your folks?”

“Haven’t spoken to my folks in years, not even at uncle Joshua’s funeral.” She said, leaning back against the couch. “My father left my mother when I was ‘bout five, and she, well, she was a God-fearing woman. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, but she…” 

Lemuel listened closely, watching as Virginia’s face furrowed then rested then furrowed again.

“My mother had her own ways of expressing faith.” Virginia spoke slowly, taking care with how she revealed her past to the pastor. “It often resulted in physical correction.”

“Your mama beat you.” Lemuel said plainly.

Virginia’s mouth tightened into a straight line. She nodded, breathing in heavily through her nose. Suddenly, the room was hot. Virginia’s struggle with finding her faith was made all the more clearer to the pastor. He didn’t blame her for her aimless wandering, especially now after learning of her history. 

Lemuel himself believed in correcting children, but to strike a child often enough to instill a fear far greater than love wasn’t Christ-like. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Virginia sniffled, fighting back the tears. She didn’t want to cry, especially not now in Lemuel’s home. She hated crying in front of people, especially those she barely knew longer than a day. 

“I used to think that whenever she swung her Bible at me, the scripture would knock itself into my skin.” She admitted. “Mother said everything that happened was the Lord’s will. So, if she was hitting me, it was because God wanted me to be hit.”

“Your mama forgot that man was given free will and that our actions are sometimes just our own.” Lemuel commented. “No child deserves to live in fear of their mama.”

Virginia was surprised by the pastor’s words. Most religious types, especially ones as serious as Lemuel, were quick to excuse such behavior. Claiming that her abuse was meant to strengthen her, test her faith, and make her a stronger believer. Lemuel validating her frustration against her mother lifted her spirit all the more. 

“Mothers…” Virginia chuckled, making Lemuel smile. “Anyways, I ain’t spoken with her since I was eighteen. She didn’t wanna talk to me anymore.”

“Blood’s meant to be with blood.” Lemuel said. “But given she chose to abandon you, just like Dilly’s mama, you’re now destined to search for your own kin. That’s a hard road to journey down.”

Virginia didn’t know what family meant anymore. It was a strange, foreign word to her. Was it an affectionate term that implied anyone who stuck together was a unit? Or was it simply biological? Was it both? 

“I would like to belong somewhere, Pastor.” She confessed softly, looking down at her hands which were folded in her lap. “I’d like to find my own tribe.”

Lemuel felt moved enough to stand from his chair and go to Virginia. He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his, looking up at the sad, lonely woman. She stared back at him, waiting for something to happen.

“God has brought you to us, Virginia Godwin. It was by his hand that you were delivered to this mountain and into our lives.” He told her, squeezing her hands. 

“Pastor…” She breathed, looking into his hazel eyes. 

She believed that was to be her lot in life, to be lonely and without a family. Virginia had accepted her uncle’s house without question because at least it meant a step in any direction away from where she was before. And now, she was in Lemuel’s home, with him on his knees, asking her, no, telling her that she should stay because she belonged. 

Virginia could’ve sworn his eyes drifted down for a second. 

“I want to belong.” She whispered, rogue tears streaming down her cheeks. The pastor wiped them away with the pad of his thumb, making Virginia freeze from the intimate touch. 

“A lost sheep in need of a shepherd.” He told her with a sad smile. 

If Virginia had given into herself, let her heart pull her forward and into Lemuel, she would’ve kissed him. But she didn’t. She just let him hold her hands and look at her. 

He brought her to the dinner table where Dilly served them chicken and sweet potatoes, ignorant of the change between them. The trio joined hands and Lemuel said grace. During dinner, Dilly filled the silence by speaking of her excitement for graduating high school, the first in her family to get a diploma of any kind. Lemuel said some words of encouragement every so often, as did Virginia, but in truth, the pair was thinking about Virginia’s future.

She had a choice to make. Virginia very much wanted to belong somewhere, and with Lemuel voicing so much faith in her, it was hard to consider the alternative. But then came the question that plagued Virginia when she went home and lay awake in bed. Would she be choosing to become a Pentecostal because she was a genuine believer in their ways of worship? Or did she just not want to be alone anymore?

Or maybe it was simply Lemuel.

The next morning, Virginia went grocery shopping at the local market, saying hello to familiar faces that she had met the previous night at worship. Not too long ago, she was a mere stranger not worth saying anything more than “good morning” or “my condolences” to. Now, she was a welcomed woman. Virginia learned that morning that Lemuel’s approval of her held weight with the parishioners.

Only two days in town and Virginia was already in so deep. She began to worry that there wasn’t a decision to be made after all but acceptance of the inevitable. That she was destined to become one of them just as Lemuel said the previous night. 

I want to belong, Lemuel.

The next few days were spent sprucing up the house, making it seem like an actual human being lived in it. She put up paintings, bought a coffee table, and even found a cute vintage tea set at the antique store for her dining table. Virginia hoped that by being away from Lemuel and having more time to settle by herself, she would feel more decisive about what to do. 

As lonely as she felt, Virginia wasn’t entirely afraid of being alone. She enjoyed having her own space and freedom. But it made her all the more hungry for attention once a little was given to her.

As she knelt by her bedside and prayed, her thoughts drifted back to the service. 

“I’m still lost, Lord. I still feel like I’m wandering ‘round in the dark. I want to feel your presence the same way the others in this town do. And yet something’s keeping me from fully accepting their ways.” Virginia pondered, leaning her head against her neatly folded hands. “I know I have no right to ask you of anything when my resolve has been weak. But please, Lord, help me decide what to do. Give me the strength to find out what it is I’m meant to live for.”

...

“Have you given some thought to our last conversation?”

Lemuel walked beside Virginia along the river bank. She was bundled up, her nose and cheeks rosy from the nipping cold. He wanted to show her where the congregation occasionally went when the service took place outdoors. There were logs and carved crosses in a small clearing underneath a canopy by the water, a beautiful place to preach.

“I’ve prayed on it.” She said, 

“Was starting to think you was avoiding me.” Lemuel confessed with a sheepish smile. “Thought maybe I scared you off.”

“You don’t scare me.” Virginia lied. In truth, Lemuel terrified her from how much power he held in his words. It made him all the more appealing to her, and incredibly dangerous. “Just wanted to look for answers on my own.”

“You’ve been looking on your own for years now, Miss Godwin.” Lemuel said. An honest statement, yet it stung Virginia. “Did you find what you was searching for?”

Virginia stopped in her tracks and looked down at her boots. Lemuel stopped beside her, waiting. “I think, what I believe…” She suddenly found herself incredibly shy. Virginia couldn’t even look up at the pastor. “I find it hard to say.”

Lemuel stepped closer, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I found you, Miss Godwin.” He said with a smile. “In the dark on the side of the road. God was guiding you to my hand so I could pull you out of the dark. I think that means something.”

Again, Lemuel was seducing her. He didn’t know what kind of an influence he had over Virginia. They barely knew each other, only had met less than a week ago, and yet there was a gravitational pull between them. 

He wanted to guide and Virginia wanted to be guided. 

“Lemuel… This is all so fast for me. I mean, I don’t know how things are done here.” Virginia said, finally looking up at him. “I’m not sure if I’m so deservin of what I want.”

“There are ways to tell if you are, Miss Godwin.” Lemuel said, reassuringly. “Let me take you to the church. Prove yourself to our Lord and then be baptized.”

Virginia’s heart sank into her stomach. She knew what he was implying. In his church, to prove one’s self was to face the serpent and pray that you’d be spared.

We respect them but we do not cower before them.

“If your intentions are pure, Christ will know and spare you from the serpent.” He said.

Intentions… Virginia wasn’t sure what her intentions were even now. All she knew was that she wanted to be wanted and Lemuel wanted her. Was that enough for Christ to accept her and spare her a painful bite from the snake? Was it pure enough? 

“I don’t know.”

Virginia wasn’t ready yet, so she left Lemuel at the river bank and went home, feeling defeated that she had let Pastor Childs down. She had failed to prove herself to God once again, just as her mother had predicted.  

Virginia was alone in her living room, wrapped in a quilt while she sat on her couch, thinking about her first week on the mountain. She missed the touch of Lemuel, his calloused hands holding hers while he told her how special she was. Just a few days with an older man who paid some attention to her and she was already spilling tears over him.

Am I really so pathetic? Virginia thought to herself. Am I really so inexperienced in the ways of the world that everything must confuse and scare me?

*Knock knock knock*

Virginia perked up from the couch and looked to the front door. Late at night, who could it have possibly been waiting on the other side? She knew no one in town except…

“It’s me.” 

Lemuel. Of course it was.

She wiped her tears away and walked slowly to the door, the quilt still wrapped around her shoulders as she opened it. Lemuel looked antsy, shivering in the cold.

“May I come inside?”

Virginia didn’t want to be rude, so she stepped aside and welcomed him in, closing the door behind him. “So, what d’you want, Pastor? You didn’t bring a snake, did you?”

“Not this time.” He joked. “I just wanted you to know that…” Lemuel paused, his head shaking in thought. “You don’t know what life’s been like for me and my church this past year. We’ve been praying for something good to come to our mountain. Then you came to us.”

Virginia almost laughed, sitting herself back down on the couch while Lemuel stood before her. “Don’t think I’m as special, Pastor.”

“You were an answer to our prayers.” Lemuel affirmed. “You’re whole, pure, and good-natured.”

“You don’t know me that well.” Virginia said coldly. 

“I know that you’re lost. It ain’t a sin to feel uncertain during hard times.” Lemuel continued, sitting down next to Virginia with his body turned towards her. She scooted back. “You was trying to tell me something by the river today. What was it?”

Virginia sighed, pulling her quilt closer to her body. “Your service moved me in ways I’ve never felt before and I felt that maybe, for the first time, I had found a place where I belong. But honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready.”

Lemuel understood that people were always hesitant to change their faith. It would be suspicious if she just did it without question. 

“What makes you hesitate?” He said, genuinely interested. “It ain’t just the snakes, is it?”

“No.” Virginia shook her head. “It’s you.”

Lemuel’s brow furrowed. “Me?”

“When I said you don’t scare me… I was lying. You frighten me.”

“Frighten you?” Lemuel tilted his head. 

“You could make me do whatever you wanted me to do just by using your words. I felt it during service, and again the other night at your house.” She shuddered at the memory of his thumb wiping away her tears. How much she wanted to kiss him. “If I were to join your congregation, it wouldn’t be out of pure intent. You understand what I’m saying?”

Lemuel leaned up, the truth settling into him. He did understand. He now knew why Virginia kept herself at a distance. It was out of restraint. He respected her self control. It was the Christian thing to do, to deny one’s self what one wants because they knew it was wrong to get it. But then Lemuel wondered… Was it really so wrong?

“I hear what you’re telling me, Miss Godwin.” He said, standing from the couch. “I only meant to be a spiritual guide for you-”

“And you didn’t mean to give me false hope, I understand.” Virginia interrupted.

“But, I have grown to have tender feelings towards you as well.” Lemuel finished with a look of uncertainty. He too was now afraid, afraid of his own heart. But being the Holy Ghost man he was, if he felt moved to speak, he would do so. “You’re right, I don’t know you well. But I feel I already understand you. I may be the shepherd of my parish, but I too have felt lost.”

Virginia watched him, surprised by his vulnerability. He looked different, as if his usual cool and certain demeanor had faded into a shell of defeat and confusion. Was this the real man underneath the mask of the preacher? Just as human as the rest of them? Just as flawed and sinful?

“You don’t know of my sins, Miss Godwin. What they cost me.” He continued, his fist clenching and unclenching, like he didn’t know if he should keep talking. “I had a wife once. And a daughter. So beautiful and full of spirit. And now they’re both gone. One gone to Heaven and the other to God knows where. Along with my grandchild.”

Grandchild? Virginia’s face fell. She couldn’t imagine the grief this man carried with him every second of the day. “I’m so sorry.”

“I let them down. I let Sister Slaughter down by nearly getting her son killed.” Lemuel said, his face contorting into an expression of anguish. “I told my daughter that once she left, she would never be welcomed back. I don’t know why I said that to her… I didn’t mean it.”

Virginia wondered if her mother felt the same way when she rejected her. That she actually regretted her words and actually wanted her to come back into her life. 

“I thought with Dilly, I would  do right by at least one soul who needs protection. Raise her in God’s love and keep her pure.” He was now fighting back tears, clenching his teeth as he continued. “But I know she’s hurting. She misses her mama, misses her best friend. I can’t help but feel like it won’t be long until she leaves too.”

Virginia pulled the quilt off her body and stood from the couch. She slowly approached him, her arms barely lifting by her sides to reach for him. She wasn’t so sure he wanted to be touched, but he didn’t seem to reject her sudden closeness. 

“So, hear me when I tell you I understand what it’s like to feel lost.” He said, looking down at the shorter woman, who stared back up at him, listening intently. “Because I do. I really really do.”

“When you said you believed God brought me here to this place… Did you mean God brought me here for you?” Virginia asked, their faces inches apart. 

Lemuel swallowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew the answer to that question.

“So, Pastor Childs… What happens now?” 

For once, Lemuel didn’t know what to do next. He knew he cared for Virginia. He still desired for her to convert to his faith. But now that she stood before him, still close to him even after he confessed his past to her, he felt compelled to.. To..

Lemuel closed the distance between them with an uncertain kiss, their lips meeting in a sloppy, unexpected clash. She didn’t back up or push him away. Instead, Virginia kissed him back, her arms reaching up and looping around his shoulders, pulling him in closer. 

He would’ve excused his actions as being moved by the Holy Spirit. It was what motivated anyone to do something so bold according to his faith. But in truth, it was Lemuel’s own desire to feel Virginia against him, assuring him that his wish to start over was real. That she was real.

To hell with everything else. She was brought here to me.

Lemuel held her face in his hands, tasting the flavor of her mouth, sweet and tart. Such a pretty young thing, so pure and lost, and she wanted him, an old man who drove his family away. 

He never felt handsome. Lemuel didn’t care about looks. God didn’t either as vanity was a sin. But when Virginia grabbed at him and held him tight, kissing him like he was the only thing that mattered, he felt beautiful. He felt needed, like he used to feel when his daughter Mara was around.

“You’re my shepherd, Pastor Childs?” Virginia whispered, breaking apart from his mouth with a trail of spit dangling between them. “Guide me.” She took Lemuel’s hand and placed it against her breast, next to her beating heart. 

Lemuel looked down at Virginia. She once looked so innocent and naive. Now before him stood a woman who knew what she wanted. And it scared him back into reality. 

Lust was a deadly sin and he had just given into his desires. He had done wrong by Virginia already, making her believe that they were just about to lay together. The idea that he, the town pastor, almost spoiled an unmarried woman made him sick. And at the same time, it excited him. 

“I can’t.” Lemuel retracted his hand and let Virginia go, backing away in shame. “We can’t, I-”

Virginia followed him. Lemuel raised a hand, stopping her. “But you kissed me, I thought-”

“To go even further would be…” He hung his head, angry with himself for acting so recklessly. “I’m sorry, Virginia. Please, forgive me.”

Before she could stop him, Lemuel turned and rushed out the front door. She didn’t embarrass herself by chasing after him, but Virginia still felt very foolish. 

She knew better than to expect a pastor to give into his desires. A man so used to denying himself the freedoms that others indulge in without fear of hellfire must’ve felt the flames licking at his heels when he kissed the young virgin. 

Virginia only hoped that their little accident wasn’t enough to deter him from wanting to see her. Because after that night, all she wanted to do was to be with him again. 

She dreamt of Lemuel again. He was touching her, kissing her, telling her all the dirty things she longed to hear in that rustic voice. It was sinful. It was pleasure. It was her forbidden fruit. And when Virginia woke from her dreams, she’d be in heat and in need of relief. 

It was shameful, working on herself while she thought of Lemuel. And she regretted it every time after she was finished. She knew that if she were brought before the serpent now, God would surely strike her down and send her to Hell. Virginia had been infected with the devil’s lust, a bitch in heat without a man to ravage her. She didn’t recognize herself anymore after that night, feeling as if she were blossoming into something new, something dark and twisted. Was this the evil her mother had warned her about all those years ago?

Lemuel had taken care to avoid running into Virginia when out and about. He confined himself to the church or wherever he was called upon for house visits. Distracting himself with his work, serving God and adoring Christ in his own way in an attempt to erase the memory of Virginia’s lips. 

Sometimes when reciting a sermon, Lemuel would feel a tightness in his chest. It was as if the Holy Spirit knew he was guilty, that he wasn’t worthy to preach to others the word of Christ when he himself had sinned severely. 

A kiss was a kiss, innocent enough that praying for forgiveness was enough to wash it away. It was the fact that Lemuel couldn’t stop thinking about it, that when he was alone at night, he thought of Virginia, naked and pale before him on his bed, opening herself up to him in a cloud of white and blue sheets, virginal and coy.

He imagined himself taking her softly and slowly, then roughly with vigor and abandon. He imagined himself thrusting into her, relishing her sweet moans before stifling them with a kiss. Then, Lemuel would open his eyes and see nothing but the dark ceiling above him, reminding him of his own solitude and that Virginia wasn’t there at all.

Virginia showed up to the next service, dressed modestly and outwardly demure. She didn’t sit up front like the first time but towards the back. Lemuel was grateful that she didn’t want to make a show of herself while he preached, for he was already struggling with simply existing within the same room as her. 

He even hesitated to open up the crate and bring the serpent out, fearing that God would surely have him bitten. Lemuel had thought about it every second of the day ever since he kissed Virginia.

But he wasn’t bitten. Lemuel was spared. The creature merely slithered up and down his arms and around his neck, docile and quiet before it was returned to its home. He swallowed and gasped after the service concluded, grateful for God’s mercy. 

Virginia remembered when Lemuel told her that facing the serpent was a way of proving oneself to God. Maybe this wasn’t an act of mercy but a sign of encouragement. Perhaps a blessing from God himself. She only hoped that Lemuel saw it that way too. But he didn’t say anything more than “thank you for coming” and “good night” after everyone left.

For three weeks their little dance of avoidance continued. The only time they would see the other was during service. And each time, Lemuel believed that that night would be the night the snake would bite. The snake never did. He was spared again and again. 

Over time, Virginia was slowly making her way towards the podium where Lemuel preached, and with every service, her fear of the beast weakened. Sometimes she felt like reaching out and touching the animal herself, feeling brave enough to invoke God’s judgment. If Lemuel was clean, then why couldn’t she be as well?

“It is natural that humans fear snakes. They are dangerous creatures, capable of harm, capable of killing. We know very well just how scary they can be.” Lemuel said on the fourth night. “But these material creatures are just that… Material. We can touch them, pick them up, cast them out and confine them in a crate. It’s easy to put away that which we can touch. We can stifle their rattle with walls and locks. 

“But the rattle within our souls, that’s hard to stifle. Even harder to confront. When we’ve done something wrong, be it a little white lie or a deadly sin… That is the devil rattling within us, trying to shake us up and lose our way. We cannot simply put that away in a crate and lock it up, hoping that by simply ignoring it, it’ll disappear.

“By confronting these rattles, we take power away from the devil. Because then we find our control and that’s what sets us on our path to redemption. And from redemption to paradise. Do you feel the rattle? Does it stir you up?” Lemuel addressed the congregation, which remained quiet. 

But then, a soft voice spoke from the very front.

“I feel it, sir.” Virginia said. Lemuel looked at her, his brow furrowed and mouth open in awe. “It’s rattling within me.” She stood from her seat, her hand over her heart.

Lemuel never felt this scared since Mara’s last night in the church. Virginia helped herself up to the stage and extended her hand out to the pastor, her expression dead serious. 

“A child of God… Is brought forth to us tonight.” He said. 

“He is calling.” Virginia said, her head held high as she looked into Lemuel’s hazel eyes. She seemed somehow more sure than he.

“Are you ready to submit yourself before the Holy Ghost?” He asked.

Virginia inhaled deeply through her nose, maintaining eye contact while she prepared herself for what was to come. “I am.” She said,

Lemuel prayed that no one else could see his shaky hands when he knelt down to the crate and opened it up.

Neither saw it, but Hope Slaughter was there in the middle of the congregation, clutching at her husband’s hand while they watched as Lemuel raised the snake out of its crate and held it out towards Virginia.

“Please, Lord.” Hope whispered, closing her eyes. “Please Lord, spare the child.”

Virginia looked at the creature as it slithered before her, its jet-black eyes peering up at her as its tongue wiggled out every now and then. For a dangerous animal, it was rather innocent looking. 

“Praise be to God.” Lemuel whispered as he handed over the animal. 

Virginia was surprised by how heavy it felt. Of course it was heavy, it was all muscle. The skin was rough and scaly but the warm coloring was beautiful.The serpent was slow and tame, a good sign for Lemuel. It started to venture up her arm, then to her shoulder where it stuck it’s tongue out, almost tickling the underside of her jaw. 

This isn’t so bad, Virginia thought to herself. It wasn’t quick or hostile like she thought most snakes were. 

Lemuel was pleased that she had remained so calm while handling the animal. It was funny, Virginia almost appeared natural with the thing around her neck. “Praise be, thank you, Jesus.” He whispered, admiring the scene before him.

The rest of the congregation raised their arms to the ceiling and whispered praises and “hallelujah” while Lemuel kept his focus on Virginia. The snake slithered up and down her arms before coiling itself comfortably in her hands, it’s head pointed right up at her face. 

She looked at the creature and smiled. Virginia smiled! She didn’t know why she did, but it felt right. Maybe she was thanking the snake for sparing her. Maybe she was rejoicing in God’s approval. Whatever the reason, she felt happy. 

Lemuel never saw a woman look so beautiful before.

“Praise be to God, we welcome new blood into our house of worship.” Lemuel announced to the congregation.

The others sang their praises and thanked Jesus for bringing another soul to them, blessing Virginia’s name. Lemuel gently pulled the snake off of her and returned it to its crate. She exhaled, relieved that it was over. Now, Lemuel was holding her hands again, just as she dreamed, and officially welcoming her as a new member of the Church of the Holy Ghost. 

Virginia Godwin was one of them now.

Notes: I apologize if the religious elements come off as inaccurate or weird. I did my own research as well as played off what was shown in the film, but if you're reading this and thinking "wtf this isn't right," that's why lol. If you wanna be added to the tag list, just lemme know! Thank you for the kind comments and reblogs, they're very much appreciated.

[questionableart420]

💜 I am NOT shutting up about this

💜 Screenshots I redrew + closeups for details below :3

[imperiuswrecked]

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.

I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.

I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.

I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.

I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

tee time

words: 1.5k

warnings: really really overly fluffy, lots of golf talk that idk if its correct yall im not a golfer, rafe squeezes her butt but its not a sexual fic :), lots of kisses omfgggggg these bitches in LOVE (this is a really boring fic im sorry)

“does this look golf-y enough?” you ask rafe as you pout in the mirror, adjusting your skirt again, feeling like your tennis shoes are out of place when you'd usually be wearing heels or sandals.

“baby, we are just playing for fun. you look cute.” rafe says, glancing at his watch.

“should i do my hair differently? pigtails maybe?” you question, twisting your ponytail around your hand.

“baby…” rafe sighs.

“okay, okay.” you raise your hands up. “im done. sorry.” you giggle as you turn to him, pressing a kiss to his lips, having to bend down to where he's sat on the edge of the bed.

“it's okay, you're excited.” rafe says softly, reaching around you to grab the back of your thighs, fingers moving up to your skirt, squeezing your ass.

“i am excited.” you gleam at him. “me and bianca went to putt putt the other day to practice.”

“you're gonna do great, baby.” rafe gives your ass another squeeze before standing, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the door.

you've been wanting rafe to take you golfing ever since you started your relationship, but usually he'd already have plans with topper or his other country club friends, and you didn't want to intrude.

when rafe offered the other day to let you putt for him, you jumped at the chance.

“im not gonna like, ruin your average right?” you ask as rafe pulls into a parking spot.

“no, baby.” rafe laughs softly. “don't worry.”

“okay.” you smile as he gets out of the truck, rounding it to open the door for you. nobody would ever guess that rafe would be a sweet and caring boyfriend, but he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky, and treats you better than you could have ever imagined.

he takes your hand in his as he leads you towards the golf cart, frowning when he realizes you're squinting in the sunlight.

“stay here.” rafe says, allowing you to sit down on his family cart, his clubs already loaded onto the back.

“okay.” you watch as he goes to the truck, jogging to get back to you as he hands you a pair of sunglasses.

“whose are these?” you ask. they look like your style, but you're certain this isn't a pair you own.

“i saw them one day at the mall and thought you'd like them so i bought them.” rafe shrugs. “figured i could keep them in the truck in case you ever forgot yours.”

“raaaafe.” you coo out, pulling him in for a kiss, which he happily accepts.

“ill let you drive once we get further out on the course.” rafe says, sliding into the driver's seat and turning the cart on before wrapping his arm around your shoulder, willing to drive with just one hand even though it was harder, needing you close to him as you press your side against his.

rafe pulls up to the first tee, waiting for a moment to feel the wind on his face before he turns to look at you, noting the way your ponytail is being blown slightly eastward.

“give me a good luck kiss for this drive, baby.” rafe says.

you pucker your lips and press a smack against his lips before he grabs a club. 

you let out a cheer when rafe hits the ball, but honestly you lost sight of it in the air and even if you watched the whole way, you wouldn't have known if it was good or bad.

“yes.” rafe pumps his fist. “need you out here more often, my good luck charm.” rafe climbs back into the golf cart, taking off towards where his ball landed.

“gonna land this on the green for you, baby.” rafe says with a confident smile, and he does indeed get the ball pretty close to the hole. 

you're not sure if cheering is generally accepted on the golf course, but you can't help but hype your man up.

“alright.” rafe pulls the cart to a stop near the ball. “it's on you, princess.”

you step out of the cart, looking at your options before grabbing what you assume is the putter, only because it looks similar to clubs used for mini golf.

“if you don't make it the first time, that's okay.” rafe says, removing the flag from the hole. “i won't be mad.”

“mkay.” you look at the distance to the hole, no silly obstacles in the way like there was in your practice.

you give it the ball a tap, frowning with disappointment when it stops rolling only a foot away from the hole.

“that was actually so good!” rafe says, a smile on his face. “just a little more power and it would have been in for sure.”

you nod, taking a breath before lining up your next shot, letting out a scream and jump in the air as the ball falls into the hole.

“that's par, baby!” rafe wraps his arms around your waist, twirling you around.

“oh my god, we crushed that!” you cheer. 

rafe sets you down carefully, but not before pressing a kiss against your lips.

“wanna drive us to the next tee?” he asks, laughing when you enthusiastically nod. rafe drives you literally everywhere, so you haven't been behind the wheel of anything in months.

rafe retrieves the ball and places the flag back in the hole before getting into the passenger side, a smile on his face as you stick your tongue barely out between your lips in concentration. 

rafe loves the look on your face so much that he insists you drive for the rest of the holes. you're tired by the time you reach the last hole, but don't wanna disappoint rafe by not putting.

“you okay, princess?” rafe asks, running his hand over your ponytail, smoothing it down comfortingly.

“mhm.” you nod, but rafe can see that you're getting sleepy, no doubt ready to go home and take a nap.

“how about we do this putt together, yeah?” he asks.

“yes, please.” you pout out your lower lip, rafe leaning forward to capture it between his teeth, tugging it gently before releasing and kissing you.

rafe stands, moving slowly as you get yourself in position before coming behind you, wrapping his arms around your body to grip onto the stick over your hands. he controls the swing and you watch, your back pressed up against his chest, as it falls into the hole.

“perfect job, baby.” rafe says, snuggling into your shoulder, giving your neck a quick kiss before allowing you to go back to sitting on the cart. you slide over to the passenger seat as rafe returns.

he chuckles gently before driving you back towards the clubhouse, thumb gently stroking against your upper arm as you lean against him, tucked into his side.

“someone is sleepy.” rafe says.

you let out a yawn. “it's not my fault you like to golf early in the day. why can't tee time be after like noon or something?”

“i usually golf at this time because you're still asleep and i don't like to be away from you.” rafe says, parking the cart and leaving it to be put properly away by the workers, needing to get you back home and in bed.

the sun has been covered by clouds, so when you climb back into rafes truck, you take your sunglasses off and place them in the center console for next time you forget yours.

you struggle to keep your eyes open for the short drive back to tanneyhill, not wanting to fall asleep in the truck. you know rafe will drive around aimlessly to not disturb your nap, even if he's tired himself. one time he drove around for an entire night just because he said you looked so peaceful sleeping he couldn't bare to move you.

“home, darling.” rafe says, yours eyes fluttering open, not having gone fully asleep yet but the soothing driving by rafe and hum of the engine had your eyelids drooping.

rafe carries you inside and up the stairs, getting out a pair of pajamas for you to change into despite it being midday.

“how long do you expect me to nap for?” you giggle, changing quickly with the last bit of energy you have left.

you sit down on the bed, knowing you should take your ponytail out and brush through your hair, but your arms don't feel like lifting.

you don't even need to ask rafe before he's moving, carefully taking out your elastic before grabbing the brush off your vanity that he set up in his room not long after you started dating.

he brushes gently through your hair, getting out any tangles that accumulated throughout the golf trip.

you crawl up the bed as rafe changes into a pair of sweatpants, going without a shirt as he sees your eyes closing, struggling to stay awake until he's in next to you.

you snuggle instantly into his chest the second hes underneath the covers, sighing happily when you feel his warmth.

“goodnight, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head. “i love you.”

with your last waking moment, you manage to mutter those three words back to him.

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[zvdvdlvr]

i raise u hotch x f!r who was pronounced kia but she comes back?

— Home

— 🧠 synopsis. After being pronounced KIA, reader shows up after a year.

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language

part one

‘‘We regret to inform you-‘’ was the first and only thing Aaron heard before his vision blurred and his hands went slack.

If had happened, his biggest fear: you were never coming home. The only personal effects Aaron received was your wallet and dog tags with your wedding band on it. The flag that the marines handed him was heavy in his arms.

As they left, Aaron dropped his head in his hands and set the things he was handed down carefully on his desk. Before he did anything else, he shut his office blinds and sank into his chair. 

God, he thought, what do I tell Jack? 

— 🧠

It had been about a year since being kidnapped by the cartel your unit was attempting to bring down. One year of sensory deprivation. One year of curling into yourself at night dreaming of waking up with Jack laughing as you swung him around on your arm. One year of thinking about Aaron’s gravely voice whispering a sweet ‘good morning’ right before he kissed your temple. 

“You ready?” One of your longtime mentors/father figures Jethro asked. 

You nod and bit your lip. “Jethro what if he’s moved on from me? What if… he stopped loving me?” You asked, malnourished body shaking from your anxiety. 

The man only scoffed. “Not Aaron Hotchner, y/n. He wears your dog tags, you know. He hasn’t moved on from you, kid.” 

Finally you stepped out of Gibbs’ truck and nodded. You truly hoped Jethro was right. Your fresh uniform was big on your frame- you had lost a lot of weight and muscle after being fed only a meal every two days. 

Stepping into the elevator made you want to cry. The familiar beep of the machine soothed your soul more than you ever thought possible. 

Your stomach did flips as you stepped into the bullpen, hoping and praying that your reunion went well. 

— 🧠

In the year that you’d been gone, Hotch changed. 

He no longer smiled. Ever. The laugh he had with the team alnost every day after meeting you was gone. Aaron had no patience for anything either. 

Emily recalled one month anniversary of your deathdate. Hotch’s eyes were the reddest they had ever been and he genuinely looked like he had just been stabbed in the gut. That day, he had yelled twice at the two cops that had continued to bicker over evidence. And once at Rossi. 

The only reason Rossi didn’t say anything in response to Aaron’s anger was because he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was: with you and your apparent grave on the other side of the world. 

But she watched your boots hit the ground, hair pulled back into the bun you had taught her all those years ago when you and Hotch first started dating. Emily watched you stand nervously in your spot, eyes scared. 

Emily never remembered seeing you scared. 

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with her. 

No one else had seen you yet, so Emily sprinted over to you and let you sink into her embrace. 

“Aaron?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Emily nodded, vision blurred. “Go see him, y/n. He’s- none of us… we thought…” Her voice cracked and wavered. 

“I love you, Em,” you said, slipping out of her grasp again. But this time, Emily knew you were alive.

The walk up the stairs made your heart race. 

You brought your hand up to the door and knocked. Below, you could already hear Emily talking to the team. You heard your name, some gasps, and then silence.

“Come in,” Hotch called gruffly from the other side of the door.

You twisted the door handle and pushed. And then you stepped into the room. 

“Can I help you?” Your husband asked without looking up. His head was bent and he slouched, something he always nagged on you to make sure you never did. How far did he fall in one year?

“I wanted to see my husband,” you say, voice shaky. “I heard he was here.”

Aaron shot up from his chair, seat flying backwards. His eyes. Oh, his eyes.

“Y-y/n?” He asked. His hair was a mess; it looked like all he had done lately was worriedly run a hand through it. Your heart ached for the man in front of you.

You stepped forward. “Hi, angel,” you said, taking another step forward. 

“You died, y/n. I- we all… Jack and I-“ Aaron stuttered, tears falling from his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stand in uniform, an arms length away.

“I missed you. So much,” you say, crying now.

Aaron strode over to you and hugged you, letting his body fall slowly to the floor as you cried in his arms. “Oh my love,” Aaron cried, hiding his face into the crooke of your neck. 

You were home.

[burntheedges]

and then they kiss

Frankie Morales x f!reader | 18+ | 14.6k words masterlist | ao3

summary: After 6 months, someone finally moves into the house next door – a very, very hot someone and his adorable little girl. (or, Frankie Morales and his daughter move in to the house next to door (and then into your heart))

a/n: it’s here! This is the fic you all voted on from my followers celebration. Thank you to @undercoverpena for the original prompt in the fic title ask game! And thank you to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always. I hope you all enjoy it. 

tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, Frankie has a daughter (Elena, age 6), neighbors to friends to lovers, food and drink mention, reader has a cat, reader is a middle school teacher, dancing, pet names (baby, hermosa, bebita, cariño, handsome), smut: kissing, cuddling, grinding, fondling, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p-in-v sex (protected by birth control, discussed), brief mention of reader’s chest area but no mention of breasts, reader has no description other than having a vagina and she/her pronouns, no ages mentioned but reader has a fully established teaching career so take that as you will, Frankie speaks Spanish, so does reader, reader can wink (author cannot), no use of y/n

...

It was a hot, sunny Sunday towards the end of summer when someone finally moved into the vacant house next door to yours.

It had been empty for about 6 months, ever since Mr. and Mrs. Park had packed up and moved to Florida to be closer to their grandkids. You knew they’d been having trouble selling it, somehow, even though it was an extremely cute and well-kept two-bedroom with a nice yard.

You were enjoying your slow morning with a cup of coffee and mindless TV when you saw the moving truck back into the driveway next door. Curiosity peaked, you stood and tiptoed closer to your window, peering through your light curtains at the commotion. The men you assumed were the movers hopped out of the cab and started to get ready to unload. At the same time, you noticed another car with out of state plates pull up and park on the road behind the truck. You sank onto your window seat to get a better look, still mostly hidden by your curtains.

At first the only thing you could see was the back of the driver’s head as he stood on the other side of the car, and you lost sight of him again when he ducked into the backseat. When he rounded the front of the car, you realized he had a little girl with him.

You also realized he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. He was tall, with a baseball cap that didn’t disguise the way his dark brown hair curled over his ears. He took off his sunglasses as you watched and hung them on the front of his shirt, drawing your eyes down his neck and along his collarbones. You swallowed roughly. Your eyes traced back up over his handsome face as he smiled down at the girl you assumed was his daughter. He had a scruffy beard and some of the widest shoulders you’d ever seen. 

He walked hand-in-hand with the little girl over the grass and laughed when she launched herself into happy spins, giggling as she fell onto her back. He pulled her up and tossed her in the air, catching her easily and spinning her around. You could hear her happy shrieks through the window, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his smile.

“Shit,” you muttered aloud. “He’s so hot.” Thankfully no one heard you but your cat, Ursula, who was curled up on the window seat below you. She flicked her ear in your direction dismissively and went back to sleep. 

You shook your head. You weren’t expecting such an adorable scene next door when you got up this morning. You weren’t expecting new neighbors at all, you had no idea they’d finally sold the house. You wondered if or when you should introduce yourself. Maybe some time this week? You didn’t want to interrupt what you knew would be a busy day of unloading and unpacking. 

You watched as your new neighbor picked up his daughter before starting to direct the movers, and then forced yourself to move away from the window. If you kept staring you were going to get caught. 

You put the handsome man out of your mind and decided you’d try to introduce yourself soon. If you peeked out of the window a few more times that morning, well… no one seemed to notice. (Not even Ursula.)

…

In the end, you didn’t have to wait long at all. You were scrambling out the door the next morning, keys and travel mug in hand, when your new neighbor’s front door opened, too.

“Vámonos mija,” you heard him call out as he stepped sideways through the door, looking back into the house. You shivered – his voice was deep and you could hear the smile in it.

You blinked and froze next to your car door. He was facing away from you and your eyes caught on his shoulders again – he was wearing a denim collared shirt and it was tight in all the right places. Your eyes traced over his curls at the back of his neck, over his shoulders and down the curve of his back to admire how tight his jeans were.

It was a nice view.

Before you could unfreeze, he turned and his eyes found yours. Because you were staring. You blinked and tried to look less obvious about it.

“Oh! Good morning, neighbor.” He smiled warmly at you and you felt yourself start to smile back. “Headed to work?”

You nodded. “Hi,” you replied, and you felt your cheeks heat. You mentally groaned at yourself. Come on. “Er, yes. Running a little bit late actually.”

He tilted his head at you curiously. “You must work early, it’s barely after 7.”

You nodded again. “I’m a teacher, we’re prepping before the students come back next week.”

His face lit up with a grin as his daughter came barrelling out of the house past his legs. “Oh, so maybe you’ll meet this one soon?” He gestured at her as she noticed you and came to a stop.

“Not quite yet,” you shook your head, still smiling. “I teach at the middle school.”

“Ah,” he nodded and squeezed his daughter’s shoulder reassuringly. “So you’re a saint, then.”

You laughed. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to you. “Nah, they’re fun. Most of the time.”

You watched as he laughed and felt a warmth start to spread through you – you’d made him laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself.” He started down the steps towards his driveway and his daughter followed along with a curious expression. “I’m Frankie, this is Elena. ‘Lena, this is our new neighbor.” He looked down at her as he gestured at you and you smiled at her as you introduced yourself. 

You heard Frankie repeat your name and you looked back up to find him looking at you again. For a moment neither of you said anything, until Elena tugged on his arm. You felt your heart rate pick up as you startled into motion.

“Well,” you started, gesturing towards your car. “I have to get to work. Do you want to, um.” You bit your lip. “Maybe I could make you two dinner this week? As a welcome to the neighborhood thing?”

Frankie grinned and Elena smiled shyly. “We’d love that.”

All three of you headed off to your cars. You looked over your shoulder right before you got into yours, and found Frankie watching you with one corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. 

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face the whole drive into work.

…

You, Frankie and Elena waved and said hello to each other a few more times during the week, whenever you ran into each other in your driveways. They seemed to be focused on unpacking – as far as you could tell Frankie hadn’t started work quite yet, and you knew school would start the following Monday.

You caught them coming home on Thursday afternoon from what looked like a trip to shop for furniture and succeeded in inviting them over for dinner on Saturday night.

“Elena needed a new, well. A new everything,” he explained when you asked what they’d been up to. He smiled ruefully. “She’d grown out of her bed and I promised she’d get to pick out new things when we got here.”

“What’d she pick?” You looked over at where she was sitting on top of the pile of long cardboard boxes in their driveway and kicking her feet against the cement.

“A matching bed and dresser set – pale wood with flowers painted on it.” He shook his head with a smile. “As soon as I saw it I knew she’d pick it. It’s exactly her style.”

You smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

He nodded. “Now I just have to find time to build it.”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from offering to help, either with the building or with Elena. You thought maybe it was too soon for that, but probably not for dinner.

“Did you two still want to come over for dinner? Maybe on Saturday?”

Frankie grinned at you. “Absolutely. And don’t worry, Elena isn’t too picky.”

You hummed. “What about tacos? So she can build her own?”

“Perfect.” Frankie stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “What time?”

“How about 5? I know she probably eats early.”

He smiled again. “She does. Thank you for thinking of it. 5 is great.”

“Great,” you repeated, smiling at him.

You both stood there, smiling at each other, until Elena appeared suddenly at Frankie’s side. 

“C’mon, dad! I want to build my new bed for tonight!”

He laughed. “Mija, the mattress isn’t here yet. What are you gonna do, sleep in the middle of the frame on the floor?”

She shrugged. “Daddy! Come ooooon,” she dragged out the last word as she pulled his arm, and you laughed.

“Better get to work, Frankie.” He turned back to catch your eye and you noticed he was blushing a little bit. 

“See you on Saturday, neighbor.”

…

On Saturday you spent most of the afternoon scrambling around your house as you cleaned and prepared to host guests. You kept walking through the living room and seeing something else you should tidy up or put away or organize until it was almost 3:30pm and you hadn’t started cooking.

By the time Frankie and Elena rang your doorbell, the food was ready, at least. You had everything set up in a little buffett on your counter and it did look pretty nice, in the end. 

You, on the other hand, looked exactly like you’d just been cooking for an hour and a half. 

“Shit.” You hovered in the hallway for a minute, looking down at your shirt and wishing you’d worn an apron. You heard Elena ask Frankie if she should ring the doorbell again and sighed.

You walked quickly over the door and opened it. “Hi! Come on in.” You stepped back to invite them in and hoped you didn’t actually look like you were utterly covered in food.

Elena smiled a little shyly up at you and said hi back. Frankie smiled and you watched as he took in the evidence that you’d been cooking. 

You winced a little bit. “I’m sorry, I was caught up in the kitchen – come on in and let me go change real quick. You can sit on the couch or explore a little, whatever you’d like.”

Frankie caught your eye. “Hey, no worries. And I think you look nice.”

You scoffed a little as you turned and waved them towards the couch. “I’m literally covered in tacos.” He huffed a laugh. “I’ll be right back.”

You ran upstairs and changed quickly, not wanting them to feel awkward waiting too long in your living room. When you came back down you found Elena looking at Ursula and you could tell she badly wanted to pet her.

“That’s Ursula. You can pet her, she’s very chill.” Elena grinned and brushed one hand lightly over her back. Ursula stretched out on the window seat and started purring so loudly you could hear her from the doorway to the kitchen. “See, she likes you already.” Elena giggled and kept petting her.

You looked over at Frankie, finally, and found him looking at you. “I told her she had to wait for you to come back first.” He smiled. “I thought she might give in, though, Ursula was putting on a pretty cute act over there.”

You grinned. “Yeah, she does that. The ‘no one has ever pet me before in my life’ routine.” He laughed, and you admired how nice it looked when he did.

“Well, you ready for some tacos?” You turned back to Elena and she turned and nodded. 

“We sure are.” Frankie looked at his daughter as he replied and held out his hand for her. “Let’s wash our hands, mija.”

You showed them the kitchen and they both headed for the sink to wash their hands. You were glad you’d taken the time to clear up some of the dishes, even if it had meant you yourself weren’t ready yet when they arrived.

“What would you like to drink? I have water, apple juice, orange juice, and iced tea.” You saw Elena perk up at the offer of juice, and smiled when she asked for apple juice (which Frankie had told you she liked). The three of you put your tacos together (Elena with some help from Frankie) and soon enough found yourselves sitting around your table, ready to eat.

You watched as they dug in and smiled when they both made appreciative noises over the food. Elena started kicking her heels against the legs of her chair, focusing hard on holding her taco just right.

“So how was your first week in town?” You glanced between them, but Frankie answered.

“Alright. I don’t have to start work until after Elena starts school next week, so we had a lot of time to explore and unpack. Find the grocery store, get library cards. School supplies.” He shrugged. “It’s still pretty chaotic inside the house but I think we’ll be ready.” 

You laughed and nodded. “Chaos is normal this time of year, I think. For parents and teachers alike.”

Frankie smiled back at you. “We went to the open house yesterday, at the elementary school. ‘Lena, what was your favorite part?” He nudged her with his elbow and she chewed and swallowed dramatically before answering. From the way Frankie laughed and nodded at her, you assumed chewing before talking was a point of contention between them. 

“I like the playground.” You nodded. The elementary school had just gotten a grant for a new playground a few years ago, and it was pretty impressive. “And my classroom is cool. We have a snake.”

“Oh! So you have Mrs. Li.” 

Elena perked up. “You know my teacher?”

You nodded. “I do. I know most of the teachers, really, but Mrs. Li and I went to college together. She’s great. And Wilbur is a very friendly snake.” You glanced at Frankie and could have sworn you saw him repress a shudder.

Elena looked more excited, then. “She said we’re going to learn all about how to take care of him and everything.” 

“Yep. And you’ll get to visit the other animals, too, in the other classrooms.” Elena looked like she was about to vibrate off the chair with excitement. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” You looked back up at Frankie and found him watching you with a soft smile. 

“It seems like a good school.” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you nodded.

“It is. They have a lot of cool programs. They just got a grant for a few new field trips this year, but I’m not sure what the final plan is.”

“They mentioned that. I might have already signed up to chaperone.”

You laughed. “They got you that quick, huh?”

He shrugged with an easy smile. “Hanging out with my daughter all day? I’m not hard to convince. I’d rather do that than work.”

Elena giggled and you smiled, too. “What do you do for work? I don’t think you told me.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think I did. I’ll be teaching at the flight school at the airfield.”

You blinked. The airfield as in the air force base? You didn’t think there was another one nearby. “Oh! Military?”

He looked like he was going to nod, and then didn’t. “Was. Haven’t been active duty for a while. The school is for military and civilians together. They have some college students taking classes, too.” 

You nodded. Sometimes seniors from the high school took the classes, as well. “What will you teach?”

“Daddy flies helicopters!” Elena interjected, and you grinned.

“Oh yeah? That sounds fancy.”

She nodded as her dad handed her a napkin to clean up her hands. “It’s cool. He gets to wear funny headphones. He took me flying before and I got to wear them, too.” 

You laughed. “Very cool.” You raised your eyebrows at Frankie and he smiled, a bit sheepish.

“Yeah, mostly helicopters and small planes, for these classes. I can fly other things, too, just won’t be teaching that right now.” He shrugged. “I’d rather fly them myself, but the rest of the job that goes along with that isn’t worth it.” He glanced over at Elena and you thought you understood. He wanted to be around more for her. 

“Definitely sounds cooler than my job.” 

Frankie shook his head. “Nah. I don’t think I could teach middle schoolers much of anything.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Well, I don’t think I could fly a helicopter.”

He huffed a laugh and nodded, ceding the point. 

“Can I go pet Ursula again?” Elena had one foot on the ground, half out of her chair already. Frankie nodded.

“Wash your hands first, please?” You asked, and she headed for the sink. “Cats can’t eat everything that was in these tacos, so just in case.” Elena nodded, looking serious. You smiled and watched her bound into the living room to find the cat again.

You turned back to Frankie and found him looking back at you. Again. “She’s pretty adorable.”

He grinned and blushed a little bit. It was extremely cute. “Doesn’t get it from me.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Pretty sure you have the exact same smile, Frankie.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Ok, I have heard that before. But she’s a lot like her mom.”

You nodded and hesitated, wondering how to ask. He must have noticed because he continued, “it’s ok. We do have shared custody, but I’ve got primary. Her mom got a great job offer that includes a lot of travel, and we agreed she should take it. Whenever she’s home she’ll get a place here in town and see Elena as much as she can, before she has to leave again.” He shrugged. “It was the offer of a lifetime, basically, and they talk pretty much every day. It’s working ok. We figured it won’t be like this forever, but her mom and I get along pretty well, these days. We’ll be able to figure it out again once she’s less mobile.”

This was such a refreshing outlook to hear from a parent that at first all you could do was blink. “That sounds like a really good co-parenting setup.” You realized you’d put on your teacher hat, just a little bit, and smiled ruefully. “I meet a lot of parents.” 

He nodded. “I figured. You must hear some interesting things.”

You leaned forward and rested your chin on your hand as you considered how to respond. “I mean, sure. We all do, really, but the schools here have a lot of support for families built into the programming. I like working here and I like the people in town.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, too, and you realized you were suddenly much closer to him. You tried to look cool even as you felt a shiver run across your shoulders. 

“That’s really good to hear, actually. I knew the schools had a good reputation, but she’ll be in first grade. It’s all new to both of us.”

You smiled and reached out to squeeze his forearm without thinking. “Her school is great, and so is Mrs. Li. She’ll be in great hands.” 

Frankie covered your hand with his free one and squeezed your hand in response. You sucked in a breath and hoped it wasn’t noticeable. “Thank you.”

You weren’t sure what to do next – he was basically holding your hand – but thankfully, you didn’t have to figure it out. Elena came skipping back into the kitchen and you sat back in your chair, missing his hand even as it slid away from yours.

“Daddy, can we get a cat? Ursula is so nice.”

Frankie shot you a look and you grinned at him. “Mija, we talked about that. We have to settle in and figure out our schedule before we can get any kind of pet.”

She slumped, looking extremely put out, and you tried not to let it show how cute it was. “Ok.” She sounded utterly dejected.

You glanced between her and Frankie, hoping you weren’t overstepping. “You know, you can come over here and hang out with Ursula any time I’m home. As long as your dad says it’s ok.”

Elena perked up, eyes sparkling with excitement. She looked at her dad and clasped her hands together. “Daddy, please?”

Frankie was looking at you again. “You don’t have to–”

“It’s ok, really.” You cut him off. “I’m usually home by 4:30. So if she wants to come say hi to Ursula, that’s fine with both of us.” You gestured to the cat who had just trotted into the kitchen and was winding herself in little figure-8s around Elena’s legs. 

Frankie sighed. “Ok, mija. You can come visit Ursula, but only when we both say it’s ok.” She cheered and sat on the kitchen floor to let Ursula climb into her lap.

You laughed. “It really is ok. My car will be here if I’m home, so you’ll know.” You looked down at Elena. “Sometimes I might be going out to dinner or something, but I’ll just tell you. You can still say hi to Ursula.”

You looked back up at Frankie and saw he looked a little thoughtful. “Are you, um.” He cut himself off and hesitated. “Going to dinner with anyone?” He immediately looked like he regretted asking. You smiled and tried not to get your hopes up about the reason he did.

You shrugged. “Just with friends, sometimes. My best friend is a lawyer and we try to see each other a couple of times a month, at least. And I have a book club.” You watched as Frankie started to smile again. “That’s about it, really.”

“No other hobbies?” He tilted his head.

“I go to the farmer’s market on Saturdays,” you offered. “Oh! Do you two want to come next week?”

Elena looked up but Frankie was shaking his head. “I have work next Saturday, but maybe the one after?” 

You nodded. “Sure.”

“I won’t usually be working on Saturdays, it’s just part of the whole first week thing.”

Ursula got up and trotted back towards the living room and Elena followed. When she was out of earshot, Frankie murmured, “you don’t have to let her come over whenever, you know.”

You smiled at him. “I meant it, Frankie, it’s fine. I’ll just tell her if she can’t for some reason.” You paused, and realized maybe he was the one who wasn’t comfortable with it. “That is, if it’s ok with you. I know we just met–”

He shook his head and interrupted you. “No, it’s ok. I’ll be home by then most of the time anyway. I just didn’t want her to intrude. And maybe it’ll help me put off getting a pet a bit longer.” He grinned.

“Well, don’t worry about it. She’s welcome. You both are.” You felt your cheeks heat and you suddenly felt flustered. You stood and started to gather dishes, but Frankie waved you back down and took them from you. 

“Let me do that.” He started to pile dishes in the sink. “You cooked, so it’s only fair.”

“Thank you.” You admired the way his shoulders moved in his flannel shirt as he moved around the kitchen. 

He shrugged. “Thank you for dinner. I think I can speak for both of us when I say we had fun.”

“I’m glad.” You smiled. “Hopefully it was a good welcome to the neighborhood.”

Frankie nodded and turned to look back at you. “It was. Thank you.” He turned back to the sink and started washing your dishes, so you got up and moved to stand next to him so you could dry. “Not sure we could have asked for a better neighbor.” 

You ducked your head when you felt your cheeks heat again and picked up a hand towel. You decided to change the subject. “So, what kind of pet does Elena want?”

He groaned, and you laughed. “After meeting Wilbur she started saying she wants a snake but that is not going to happen.” He shuddered. “Not a chance.”

“Frankie,” you started, turning towards him and leaning your hip against your counter. “Are you afraid of snakes?”

He glanced at you. “No.” You raised your eyebrows. “Ok, maybe. Look, they’re fine if they’re outside. I don’t want one in my house.” 

You laughed again. “Fair.”

He shook his head. “I think we’ll go with a cat. But I want to wait a little while, first.”

“Makes sense.”

You fell into an easy silence as you finished up the dishes. You weren’t sure what to say next – you realized, then, how much you liked Frankie and Elena. You would never have expected something like this to happen when you got new neighbors. You could feel the beginnings of a crush stirring inside of you but you tamped it down. 

You needed to get to know him first. You needed to let it happen and not get ahead of yourself.

Frankie cleared his throat, suddenly, and you turned to meet his eyes again. He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted as Elena came barrelling back into the kitchen.

“Dad, Ursula is so cute. I think I want a cat just like her.” She wrapped her arms around his leg and he grinned so wide his eyes crinkled. Cute.

“Just like her, huh?” He dried his hands quickly and reached down to tousle her hair. She squealed in protest. Frankie glanced up at you and then past you, eyes widening.

“Oh! It’s getting late.” You turned back to check and saw that it was already 7. “Almost someone’s bed time.” Elena moaned and started hanging off his arm. You grinned, enjoying that she’d relaxed enough in your presence to act so normally around you. “Come on, mija. Say thank you for dinner.”

Elena turned towards you, suddenly shy again. “Thank you for dinner. It was really good. And I loved meeting Ursula.”

You smiled. “You’re welcome, Elena. Thank you for coming over.”

Frankie sent her towards the door to say goodbye to the cat and turned towards you again. “Really, thank you. Can we repay the favor? Have you over for dinner, maybe next week? Give us a little more time to get everything organized over there. It’s a mess right now.”

You were nodding before he finished talking. “I’d love that, Frankie. Just let me know when.”

He smiled and reached out to squeeze your arm. “Perfect. Wait, let me give you my number.”

After exchanging numbers you held the door for the two of them and watched them cross your yard towards theirs. You could hear Elena telling Frankie all about how cute and cuddly Ursula was, and all the funny things she did with the toys she’d found. You smiled.

Just before they went inside, Frankie turned back to you and waved. When he smiled you felt something warm start to burn inside you. Maybe this is actually going somewhere good.

…

Over the next week, you ran into Frankie and Elena almost every day, if only for a few minutes at a time. You rarely saw them in the mornings – you left for school much earlier than they did – but often in the afternoons. Elena came by to say hello to Ursula on Wednesday, and you were surprised she’d managed to wait so long. (That is, until Frankie told you he’d said no on Monday and Tuesday to give you a break after the first two days of school, which was so thoughtful you were momentarily speechless.)

On Friday you had plans to meet up with your best friend, and you were in the middle of getting ready when there was a knock on your door. You weren’t surprised to find Frankie and Elena on the other side. 

“Hi,” Elena grinned up at you. “Can I play with Ursula?” She jumped up and down on her toes with her hands clasped together, and you couldn’t help but grin back. 

“Of course,” you said, as you stepped out of the way so she could dart past you into the living room. You looked up to meet Frankie’s eyes and found him looking at your outfit, which was fancier than anything he’d seen you in so far.

“You look nice,” he said, voice sounding a bit rough. When he met your eyes again you noticed there was a bit of color in his cheeks.

You smiled. “Thank you. I’m meeting my best friend for dinner soon.”

Frankie hesitated as he stepped inside. “We can get out of your hair–”

You waved him off. “No, it’s fine. I’m not leaving for another half an hour. She can hang out with Ursula until then. I mean, if that works for you.”

He nodded, and hesitated again. “Would you–” He cleared his throat. “Would it be ok if I came back in about 15 minutes? I was in the middle of cooking dinner when she just ‘had to see Ursula, please daddy, it’s Friday’.” You laughed at his imitation of his daughter. “Everything’s fine over there but I can finish up and come back and get her.” 

You were already nodding. “Of course. I’ll finish getting ready but it’s just down the hall, I’ll keep the door open and let her know.”

Frankie stepped in past you to let Elena know he’d be back, and you turned to find her sitting cross-legged on the floor with Ursula flopped upside down over her lap. You laughed. “I think we’ll be fine. I’ll be just down the hall, ok?” Elena nodded without looking up from Ursula, who was purring so loudly you could hear her from where you were standing. “Come get me if you need anything, or honestly I’ll hear you fine if you just talk to me from here.”

After Frankie left you returned to the bathroom with the door open so you could finish getting ready while listening to Elena and Ursula. You smiled at the cute noises she was making as you messed with your hair. 

As you were finishing up you felt Ursula rub against your legs and noticed a little face peer around the edge of the door in the mirror.

“Hey, what’s up?’ you asked, meeting Elena’s eyes in the mirror. She stepped inside and looked around your bathroom.

“Are you going on a date?” She swung her arms a little when she asked and then bent down to pet Ursula again.

You shook your head when she looked back up at you. “No, just going to meet my best friend for dinner. She and I usually go to dinner after the first week of school so we can catch up.”

Elena nodded. “What’s your best friend’s name?”

You smiled. “Leticia, but I call her Leti.”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s my cousin’s name! Does she know Spanish, too?”

“She does,” you nodded and grinned. “I know some, too.”

Elena grinned. “We speak Spanish a lot! Me and daddy. But my mommy only knows English.”

“Cool. Leti helps me practice so I don’t forget.” 

Elena nodded and smiled when Ursula rubbed against her leg again. “She sounds cool. I don’t have a best friend here yet.”

You were finished getting ready, so you gestured towards the living room and Elena got up to lead the way out. “Well, you just met everyone this week. I bet you’ll get to be friends soon.”

She shrugged and did a little spin before flopping onto your couch next to Ursula. “One of the boys in class tried to get Wilbur out of his cage without Mrs. Li seeing.” 

You snorted. “How did that go?”

Elena rolled her eyes. It was extremely cute. “She turned around when he had his hand inside the cage and he got in trouble.”

You nodded. “Sounds about right. Did you have a favorite thing this week? Like a class or something you did?”

She screwed up her face in a thoughtful expression that made you smile. “I like our classroom. Mrs. Li said she made all of the stuff on the walls. It’s really pretty.” She thought for a moment and you waited. “I like music class. And the library.”

“Going to the library was always my favorite, too.”

You were interrupted from finding out anything else about her first week at school by a knock on your door. 

“Sounds like your dad is back.” You stood and glanced through the window. Frankie was indeed standing outside your front door.

You opened it and smiled. “Welcome back.” You stepped aside to let him in but he didn’t immediately move. 

“You look–” he cleared his throat and tugged off his hat with one hand, running his fingers through his hair with the other before putting it back on. “You look nice.” 

You bit your lip and couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “You said that before.”

His cheeks turned pink and you smiled. “Well,” he said, smiling ruefully, “it’s still true.”

For a moment the two of you smiled at each other until Frankie cleared his throat again. “So I was going to see if you wanted to come over to have dinner with us, but I know you’re busy. What about tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully as he stepped past you into your house.

“Tomorrow sounds great, Frankie.” 

Before he could answer Elena came running around the corner and threw herself at his legs. He made a dramatic oomph noise on impact before lifting her and throwing her over his shoulder. Elena squealed, delighted, and you smiled as he turned to face you again. 

“How about 5:30?” You nodded, and he winked at you as he started to carry his daughter out the door. “Anyone seen Elena? All I could find was this gremlin.” He tickled her behind her knees with one hand (while keeping a firm hold with the other) and she giggled. As he passed you she turned her head sideways and waved at you, upside down.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the picture they made crossing your lawn. “See you tomorrow!” you called, already looking forward to it.

…

You and Frankie traded dinners a few times over the next month. You went to theirs for dinner that Saturday, and then Frankie and Elena joined you at yours a few days later. And then again the next week. Elena appeared to be thriving at school, if her stories were any clue, and you were enjoying watching her settle in. Frankie seemed to be enjoying his new job as well, or so he told you when you asked about it. 

On a Thursday evening about six weeks after they moved in, a knock at the door told you Frankie and Elena had probably arrived. You’d been working on dinner and expecting the two of them to arrive soon. 

The knock was a bit sharper than usual, though, and you answered the door with a furrowed brow. When you saw Frankie’s face you grew more concerned. He looked worried, face drawn, hands twisting together.

“Frankie, what is it? Is everything ok?” You skipped over a greeting and stepped closer, reaching up to squeeze his bicep gently, hoping to offer some reassurance.

He smiled, but it looked more like a grimace. “I’m sorry to do this, I just got a call. I have to head back in to work. Some kind of emergency with one of the planes coming in.”

You shook your head and squeezed his arm again. “That’s ok, Frankie, it’s fine. We can reschedule.”

A little bit of the tension went out of his shoulders, but not all of it. 

“Well–” he cleared his throat and glanced down before meeting your eyes again. “I was wondering if Elena could come over here, until I get back?” You started nodding, but he kept talking. “I thought the two of you could still eat, at least, and you know she’ll love seeing her best buddy.” He gestured with his chin towards Ursula and you smiled. 

“Of course she can. And I’ll save you some food.”

This time his relief was almost palpable.

“Thank you, you have no idea–” he shook his head. “Thank you. I’ll be back in a few minutes with her and her things.”

Before you could say anything else, he jogged back towards his house. You tidied up around the kitchen and the living room in preparation for hosting Elena, and soon enough they were back.

“Hi!’ She chirped, crossing your threshold and walking straight up to Ursula. You smiled and looked back to find Frankie already looking at you.

“I should be back in a couple of hours. I’ll text you if anything changes.” 

You nodded. “That’s fine, Frankie. Don’t rush.”

You felt more than saw him step forward and press a soft, quick kiss to your cheek. “See you soon.”

He was gone before you could react. As you watched him walk away you felt the heat flood your cheeks and you turned quickly to close the door. You leaned back against it and pressed the backs of your hands to your cheeks, taking a deep breath. 

Elena popped her head around the corner and frowned at you. “What are you doing?”

You smiled and dropped your hands. “Nothing. Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “Why were you holding your face?”

You tripped in surprise but caught yourself on the door to the kitchen. “What?”

“You were holding your face like this.” She put her hands on her cheeks like you had and you smiled. “And you’re sweaty. Like daddy after he lifts something heavy.” Her tone was very matter of fact and you couldn’t help but grin.

You snorted. “Oh yeah?”

She nodded as she slid into a chair at your table. “Yep. But you didn’t pick anything up.”

You shook your head as you started to put together plates of food for both of you. “No, it just got pretty warm in here when I was cooking.”

Elena regarded you skeptically and didn’t seem convinced, but she thankfully let the subject drop.

After dinner you agreed to watch a movie – Moana, one of her favorites – and you got her to giggle and laugh so hard she got the hiccups at your impression of Hei Hei. By the time Frankie returned (just a little bit later than he’d hoped), she was asleep on the couch next to you.

His knock was so soft you almost missed it, but you managed to get over to the door and open it without waking her up.

“Hi Frankie,” you greeted him with a smile, “she’s asleep.”

He looked tired but very happy to be home. “I figured.” He sighed. “Thanks again, he–, um, thank you.” 

You shrugged. “Anytime. We had fun. Got to watch Moana again.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “I think I see that movie playing on the back of my eyelids when I’m sleeping.” 

You laughed, and then glanced back at Elena to make sure you hadn’t woken her up. “She liked my impressions.”

He raised one eyebrow at you. “Oh? Watch out, she’ll demand them every time, now that she knows.”

You smiled. “I’m used to it. Little cousins.” 

Frankie nodded and stepped past you when you moved out of the way to let him in. He walked over to Elena and you remembered the food you’d set aside for him. You ran to get it and met him back at the front door, Elena in his arms. 

“I saved you some dinner.” You held out the bag with tupperware and smiled. “Just have to heat it up again.”

Frankie blinked, and then smiled softly. “You didn’t have to–”

You shook your head. “It was supposed to be for you, anyway. Take it.”

He nodded and you looped the bag over the hand supporting Elena’s knees. “We’ll see you soon?” He murmured the question so as not to wake her.

You nodded and leaned against your door as he started to walk away. “You know where to find me.”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder and your breath caught at the look in his eyes. “Sure do. Good night.”

…

Over the next few weeks you watched Elena two more times but didn’t have another dinner together until Frankie, in his words, managed to pin you down for a Sunday evening. It was true that you’d been busier, but there’d been a lot of events at school that you had to be at as fall settled in.

You headed over to their house with a plate of cookies and a smile on your face. You knew you’d started to like Frankie, maybe too much, but you couldn’t help it – he was so charming, and sweet with his daughter, and capable. He’d fixed a broken faucet in your bathroom last week and you’d tried not to let it show on your face how impressed you were by the whole thing (and not a little bit turned on).

But whatever you were feeling, you were trying not to rush into it. You liked having them as neighbors, and you knew he’d want Elena to be comfortable more than anything else. And you thought he might like you, too, but neither of you had made anything resembling a move.

You knocked and the door flew open almost before you moved your hand away. Elena opened it with such force she swung with it.

“Hi!” her eyes zeroed in on the cookies in your hand and then grew. “Cookies?!” She sounded delighted and you laughed.

“Cookies!” you confirmed, and she cheered. “But dinner first, right?”

She sighed and nodded. She led the way back to the kitchen where you found Frankie at the stove wearing a bright yellow apron with daisies printed on it. You blinked.

“Is that new?” you asked, starting to grin.

Frankie rolled his eyes at you. “It was a gift, thank you.”

Elena smiled up at you and you figured you knew who the gift was from. “It looks very nice,” you told her, and she preened.

“Yellow is daddy’s favorite color.” She scooted onto one of the kitchen chairs and you joined her. “That’s why I picked that one.”

“Well it looks great on you, Frankie.” You winked at him when he turned to give you a long suffering look. 

He laughed and turned back to the stove. “Sure, he– sure. You ready to eat?”

You and Elena both said “yes!” with such enthusiasm that all three of you laughed.

After dinner, Frankie prevented you from washing dishes (not yet, let’s hang out with Elena before she goes to sleep) so you found yourself on the couch with her while Frankie sat in the chair nearby. She was telling you about her new favorite movie, one you hadn’t seen yet.

“--and my favorite part is the end when they dance, her dress is sparkly and the sky is purple and they look so pretty. Daddy and I danced along but it wasn’t the same because I’m so short.” She looked put out for a moment and then perked up suddenly. “Hey you and daddy are tall! You should do it!”

You glanced at Frankie, not sure what she was asking, and blinked at how you found him, startled. He was frozen in his seat and bright red.

“What do you mean?” you asked her, tearing your eyes away from her dad. 

“Look! I’ll play it and then you can do the dance right there behind the couch.” She gestured at the open area behind the couch that led into the entryway. She squinted at the TV as she fast forwarded through the movie. You could tell she’d done this many times before.

“Ok, here, look.” You watched the scene with her and had to agree that it was cute. You couldn’t help but notice that Frankie hadn’t said anything yet – he seemed to have relaxed a bit, at least. “See? I’ll play the song and you two dance and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“Frankie?” you asked, looking at him again. 

He finally met your eye and smiled. “Come on, then. You know she won’t rest until we act it out.” You laughed in response and took his hand when he offered it.

Like a tiny drill sergeant, Elena arranged the two of you into the same stance as the couple on screen. You were so close you could smell him – something warm and woodsy that made you want to lean in and rest your forehead on his shoulder. You felt Frankie’s hand, large and warm against your hip, and bit your lip. “Ok remember – you have to spin! Daddy, just like we practiced.”

“Am I going to be able to do this?” you asked him under your breath. 

He smiled and nodded. “When we’ve been practicing,” he said the word like it was in quotes, “we’ve just been spinning in place with a little bit of flair.” 

You laughed. Ok, that didn’t sound so bad.

And Frankie was right – when the music started he led you in a small, easy circle, turning you and adding in some side-to-side movement that looked more like the movie. Elena cheered, so you figured you must be doing something right. 

“Now spin, daddy!” 

Frankie grinned and released you into a slow spin. He tugged you back in and you found yourself closer in his arms than before. You could feel the heat of his body along your front and your breath caught as your eyes met again. You felt something warm starting to build inside of you and when Elena whooped behind you, you both smiled.

The music swelled, and you figured the song was coming to an end. But you couldn’t look away from Frankie, and the look in his eyes turned into something warm, something more intent. Something that made the moment around you feel slow and syrupy. You felt a shiver move up your spine and wondered if he could feel it, with you wrapped in his arms like this. 

The music hit the crescendo and you felt breathless as Frankie spun the both of you around one more time. You stumbled as you came to a stop and he tugged you closer to keep you upright. You found yourself with your chest almost brushing his and your faces only inches away from each other. You could lean in, if you wanted, and brush your lips right–

You jumped a little as Elena’s voice came suddenly from your left, excited with her final stage direction.

“And then they kiss!” she shouted.

Before you could react in any way, before you could do anything other than process her words, you felt Frankie’s lips press gently against the corner of your mouth. 

Both of you froze as Elena cheered louder than you’d ever heard her. As she started proclaiming how well you did, and how it was just like the movie, Frankie leaned slowly back to meet your gaze. He looked worried, studying your reaction, eyes sweeping over your face. 

But his worry didn’t last long. You had no idea what expression you were wearing but whatever it was seemed to reassure him. A slow smile spread across his face at the same time as an answering one took over yours.

Grinning, Frankie tensed the hand he had around your waist and leaned just a tiny bit closer. You sucked in a quick breath and he smirked when he felt it. He opened his mouth to say something and your eyes dropped, not wanting to miss it.

“That was amazing!” Elena cried, suddenly wrapping her arms around both of you. “Can we do it again?”

Frankie laughed and released you. You stepped back, a little bit dazed. “No, mija, you know what time it is.”

“Awww, daddy!” She pouted a little and you tried not to smile. 

“‘Lena, we can dance another time. Come on, say goodnight.” He rubbed her back a bit in consolation and she sighed. 

“Next time,” you promised. She smiled a little and nodded. 

“Good night!” Elena waved and headed upstairs. 

Frankie turned to you and you felt his fingers catch against your own. “I’ll be right back, hermosa.” His voice was deeper than usual and you shivered again. This time you knew he saw it when his eyes darkened. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You shook your head. “I’ll be right here, Frankie.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged when he heard Elena calling for him. “10 minutes, max.” 

As he reached the top of the stairs, you thought you heard Elean say, “Daddy, it work–” but he cut her off with a shushing sound. You shook your head and headed into the kitchen to do the dishes while you waited.

You let yourself sink into the memory of Frankie’s arms around you and couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you cleaned up the kitchen. It seemed like the two of you were on the same page, after all. As you washed the dishes, you replayed the feeling of his hand on your waist, his hand in yours, his guidance through the dance. His arm slipping around you to catch you, and the brief press of his lips against the edge of yours.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn’t hear him come back.

You startled and almost flung the sponge in the air when two large, now familiar hands came to rest on your hips. You felt Frankie lean into you and the brush of his mustache as he murmured in your ear, “you didn’t have to clean up, hermosa.�� He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you sighed, letting your head fall to the side to give him more room.

“You knew I would.” You felt his smile against your neck and you shivered again. His smile grew wider.

“Dance with me again, hermosa.” He squeezed your hips and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Frankie–”

“Please?” He pressed a soft kiss to the skin behind your ear. “Dance with me. Without the peanut gallery, this time.” 

You laughed and nodded, quickly rinsing your hands so you could turn in his arms. When you did he was close, so close, close enough to kiss again.

“Hi,” you whispered, breathless. 

“Hi,” he murmured, smiling.

“I’d love to dance with you, Frankie.” You lifted your hands and rested them gently on his chest.

He swayed forward but stepped back, taking your hands in his. “C’mere, then.”

Frankie walked backward and led you into the open space behind the couch again. He quickly queued up a song on his phone and set it on the low table next to the couch. Soft, slow music started to play as he pulled you back into his arms. Much, much closer this time.

You found yourself with your arms around his neck and his around your waist. His eyes were dark and intent and you could almost read the desire in them.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he admitted, smoothing a hand up your back.

“Dance?” you teased, smiling.

“Well,” he said, smirking, “I do like dancing with you.” He spun the two of you a bit and you gasped. “But I meant, well. I’ve been wanting to tell you. To ask you out.”

You bit your lip and started playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah?”

He nodded and his eyes dropped to your mouth. “What do you think? Can I take you out, hermosa?”

You smiled, wide. “Yes, Frankie.” You hesitated, and you watched his brow furrow in response. “Is, um, what about Elena? Is this ok?”

Frankie smiled softly at you. “Hermosa, this?” He moved one of his hands to squeeze your hip and tugged you closer. “This was all her master plan.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? What do you mean?”

He looked a bit sheepish and his cheeks turned pink. “Well, she knew I liked you. She’s been teasing me about it – apparently I look at you like one of the characters in her movies. And I talk about you a lot.” You laughed, charmed. “So she said I had to do something romantic. The dance was her idea, we’ve been practicing. I didn’t mean to kiss you, though. I mean, I wanted to kiss you. I–” he cleared his throat, suddenly much pinker. You smiled at him encouragingly. “We’ve been practicing with a kiss on the cheek. I just, it was habit, but then I wasn’t sure what you’d think, or if that was ok–”

“It was more than ok, Frankie.” you interrupted, and he smiled, relieved. You ran your thumb up and down the back of his neck and grinned when he shivered. “I can’t believe Elena was the mastermind of this whole thing.”

“She likes you,” he said with another soft smile. You were starting to get attached to the way he smiled at you. “So yeah. To answer your question, it’s ok with Elena.”

You bit your lip on a smirk and said, aiming for an innocent tone, “you know, maybe we should practice again. Make sure we get it right for next time.”

He tilted his head. “What, the dance?”

You shook your head and let yourself grin at him again. “No, not the whole thing. I was thinking we could just practice the ending again.”

Frankie grinned at you and pulled you closer in his arms until you were pressed against him. The warmth of his body made your breath catch in your throat. “Hermosa, I would love to practice with you.”

You tangled your hands in his hair and leaned in, but Frankie met you halfway. This time when his lips met yours you were right there with him.

As he moved his mouth gently against yours, you felt yourself sinking into the steady warmth of Frankie, sinking deep into his embrace. He hummed against your mouth and you opened for him, deepening the kiss. The gentle touch of his tongue against your own drew a soft whine from the back of your throat. Frankie’s grasp on your hips tightened and you were suddenly aware of the press of his hips against your own.

You didn’t know when or how he moved but you felt the back of the couch suddenly against your thighs and propped yourself up on it so that he could step between your legs.

Frankie groaned when his hips came to rest against yours. You felt his cock, warm and huge in his jeans, and let out a moan of your own.

“Shit,” he murmured, pulling away and dropping his forehead against your shoulder. “We can’t, hermosa, not with Elena upstairs.”

You nodded. He was right. “Ok, let me–” you took a deep breath, “why don’t we sit on the couch? Less kissing, more talking?”

He laughed and agreed. Once you were on the couch, though, he tugged you close so that you sat with your legs across his lap and his arm around your waist.

“When can I take you out, hermosa?” he ran his fingers up and down your calves over your clothes and you sank into his embrace again. 

“How’s Friday?” 

He nodded. “Perfect. Elena’s mom will be here, she’ll have her the whole weekend.”

“Oh!” You sat a little straighter. “Is this the first time she’ll be in town?”

“Yep,” he confirmed. “Elena’s over the moon with excitement.”

You laughed. “I bet. That’s great.”

He smiled at you. “So, 7 on Friday, hermosa?”

You nodded, but decided to finally ask about the pet name. “You’ve been calling me that since you kissed me.”

Frankie looked a bit sheepish again. It was charming. “Well, I’ve been wanting to call you that for a while. Almost did a few times, not just recently. Feels like I’m finally allowed. You are beautiful, you know. So fucking beautiful.” He leaned forward to kiss you, gently. “Almost said it that night you were going out with Leti. Way too soon.”

It was your turn to look sheepish. “When I saw you through the window when you were moving in I said ‘shit, he’s so hot’ out loud. To myself. And Ursula, I guess.”

Frankie laughed, a bit incredulous. “You think I’m hot?”

You furrowed your brow at him. “Frankie. You are hot. So fucking hot.”

He turned pink again, and you smiled and pressed a kiss to his warm cheek. As you pulled back he turned and caught you in another kiss. You felt yourself getting carried away again and leaned back.

“I should go home. Have to get up early tomorrow.” 

He sighed and nodded with a wistful smile. “I know. Let me walk you out.”

At the door, Frankie leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips one more time and then pressed his forehead against yours. “Can’t wait for our date, hermosa.” 

“Me neither.” You slipped your arms around him in a tight hug. “Tell Elena she did a good job with the plan.” He laughed and you grinned. You said good night, and when you reached your front door and looked back, you found Frankie leaning against his own front door watching you. He smiled and waved and you stepped inside with the grin still on your face.

…

You ran into Frankie and Elena a few times during the week, but you were all busy and there wasn’t a lot of time to talk (or visit Ursula). You were thankful for your upcoming date and the guaranteed time you’d have with Frankie all to yourself.

He knocked on your door at 7pm sharp on Friday evening. You were scrambling on the other side of it to put on your shoes and grab your bag. When you found yourself hopping in place you paused, took a deep breath, and put your shoes on as calmly as you could. 

By the time you opened the front door he’d been waiting for a few minutes and had his hand raised to knock again. 

“Hi, sorry, I was just putting my shoes on.” You released the whole sentence in one breath and then smiled, sheepishly.

Frankie was frozen with his hand raised. He blinked and dropped it and smiled back at you. You swore you felt his eyes as he swept them over your outfit. “Hi there. You look gorgeous.”

You felt your cheeks heat and bit your lip. His outfit finally registered and you noticed he was wearing dark jeans, a dark red button up, and no hat. His curls were tousled and your fingers twitched with the desire to touch. “I like your outfit, Frankie.”

“Yeah?” He tugged at one of his cuffs. “Elena helped me pick it out.”

You grinned. “She has good taste, then. You look handsome.” You stepped outside and turned to lock the door. When you turned back towards Frankie, he hadn’t moved far and was only a few inches away. You leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. 

He smiled and you felt his hand slide over your lower back. “Ready to go, hermosa?”

“Lead the way.”

Frankie guided you to his car and opened the door for you. Soon enough you were on your way, turned slightly in the passenger seat to watch him drive. It was a nice view.

“So, where to?”

He glanced over at you and when he found you looking, he turned a little bit pink. “One of my coworkers told me about this little Indonesian place across town, next to the river. Have you been?”

You sat up straighter, excited. “No! It’s new. I’ve been meaning to go.”

He grinned. “No? Good. Well, then we can try it together.”

You leaned back into your seat and smiled as Frankie started to tell you about his week at work. It sounded like his classes were going well. He’d told you back when you met that he was worried about teaching, and had even asked for some tips. But it sounded like he was doing a pretty good job. (And you knew he’d been reading about teaching when he could.)

The conversation carried you through the ride and into the restaurant, which was small with cozy tables and warm lighting. When Frankie gave his name the host led you to a small table in the back corner that had a “reserved” sign on it.

“This place is cute,” you observed. Frankie nodded, smiling. 

After you both took a minute to look at the menu and order, Frankie reached across the table to tangle your fingers together lightly. “I’m glad you said yes to this date, hermosa.”

“Me too, Frankie.” You squeezed his fingers and he smiled.

“I wanted to ask for a while. Almost from the beginning. That first night you had us for dinner I almost blurted it out, but Elena interrupted.”

You smiled, slow, and he watched. “I would have said yes.”

He blinked. “Even then? I figured I’d have to show you I wasn’t a total mess, first.”

You tilted your head and frowned a bit. “Frankie, I’ve never thought you were a mess. You’re… well. I think you’re great.” You bit your lip and watched as his expression turned soft.

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I think you’re amazing. You’re so smart, and funny, and you’re amazing with Elena. She’s been saying she wants to be a teacher when she grows up, you know.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised. “Really?” He nodded. “Didn’t she say she wants to be a pilot, like, last week?”

Frankie laughed, and you grinned. “She did. But that’s just her backup career. It’s the one she says when she isn’t sure, I think.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she really does want to.”

He shrugged. “Could be. She can do whatever she wants. I’m not pushing anything.”

You smiled at him again. The arrival of your food interrupted and for a moment you sat in comfortable silence, other than commenting on how delicious it was.

“How’s Elena doing with operation BFF?” You and Frankie had started calling it that when you told him about your conversation about best friends, and after seeing Elena’s clear focus on finding one. It was very cute.

Frankie laughed. “Well, she’s been hanging out more with Anil and Min. Apparently the three of them have the same favorite movie, so that’s been important somehow.” You smiled. “But my money is still on Mateo. They are both way too into having a ‘secret language.’ Even if they’re not the only ones in the room who speak Spanish. I watched them on the field trip the other week, just constantly whispering to each other.”

You nodded. “I can see that. It’s probably also comforting to be able to switch if she wants to.”

He smiled and shook his head. “But she also told me they’ve been teaching some of the others during recess. So maybe a not-so-secret language.” 

You smiled at the mental image of Elena teaching some of the other kids in her class on the playground. “That’s pretty adorable. She would think of something like that, I can totally see it.”

Frankie grinned down at his plate. “She surprises me every day. I have no idea where she gets it from.”

You rested your chin in your hand as you gazed at him across the table. “Frankie, she gets it from you.” You tried not to let your tone say “duh” but it was difficult.

His head lifted quickly and he met your eyes, clearly surprised. “Gets what?”

You smiled and reached across the table with your free hand to tangle your fingers together again. “That kindness, that makes her want to teach her friends her secret language. The initiative and drive to do something like that herself. Her curiosity and joy in new experiences that make operation BFF something exciting instead of something stressful. She gets all of those things from you. I can see all of them in the way you are with her and your students and everything else.” You squeezed his fingers and watched as his blush bloomed from his cheeks down his neck. 

Frankie ducked his head, but after a moment he peeked up again to meet your gaze. “You really think so?” His tone was tentative, and you felt something clench around your heart at this man who was so wonderful but seemed to have no idea. 

“I do, Frankie. I really do.”

He lifted his free hand to trail his fingers down the side of your face and then your arm, which was still propping up your chin. “I’ll try to believe you.” You smiled, and his answering smile made something warm start to burn inside you. “I don’t know what I did to get so lucky as to move next door to you, hermosa.”

You felt your own cheeks heat and bit your lip. Whatever response you might have made was interrupted by the server returning to clear your table. You leaned back from each other and let Frankie grab the check (while extracting a promise that you could pay next time).

You stepped out of the restaurant into a lovely, warm evening. The fireflies were starting to come out and for a moment you simply admired the atmosphere. When you looked at Frankie you found him already looking at you.

“Do you want to walk around a bit? I know there’s a park on the next block.” You nodded, smiling at the suggestion and the idea that neither of you were ready for this to end quite yet. Frankie slid his arm around your waist as he turned to start walking. Your attention narrowed to the warm feeling of his hand on your hip and his thumb as it moved gently back and forth over your clothes. 

When he said something, it took a moment for you to respond. “Sorry, what?” Your cheeks burned. 

He grinned. “I asked, are you going to be at the PTA fundraising thing next weekend?”

“Oh!” You nodded. “Yes, all the teachers are, pretty much. Did you buy a ticket?” He nodded. “Great. Maybe I can get us seated together.”

Frankie winked at you and you felt something flutter in your chest. “You wanna sit with me?”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Of course I do.”

“Good,” he replied, tucking you closer into his side as you turned into the small park. “Because I definitely want to sit with you.”

You laughed. “It’ll probably be more fun that way. It’s not a bad event, but it can be sort of boring. Lots of speeches about all the good things the district is doing so people will volunteer or donate more. And then the auction of the different projects from the classrooms at the elementary school.”

He nodded. “Elena told me about theirs. Apparently it’s snake themed.” He shuddered dramatically and you grinned.

“Well, you’re obviously going to bid on that one,” you teased, and let out a tiny squeak when he stopped and tugged you to stand in front of him. His hands came to rest on your hips and you realized he’d navigated the two of you under a large tree, just off the path.

He smiled. “I promised Elena I would, but I’m going to bid low on purpose. Don’t tell her.”

You nodded and tried to look serious instead of laughing. “I promise I won’t tell your daughter that you intentionally did not win her class project.” 

Frankie squinted at you. “Hmm ok. Let’s say I believe you.”

You laughed, and his answering grin drew your eyes like a magnet.

“You know, Elena told me I should pick you up in a limo for this date.” 

“You’re kidding,” you said, laughing again. “Why?”

He shrugged and squeezed your hips. “Apparently that’s the most romantic thing I could do. She was mad when I didn’t.”

You smiled. “Well, you can tell her I didn’t need a limo. I think you’re pretty romantic without it.”

“Yeah?” He asked, one side of his mouth lifting in a smile.

You nodded, swaying a bit closer to him. 

“Hey, hermosa,” he started, voice teasing, and you tilted your head at him curiously. “Can I kiss you?”

You grinned. “Frankie, you don’t have to ask.”

He leaned in with a little smirk playing around his mouth. “Good to know,” he murmured just before his lips met yours.

It was just as good as the night at his house, when you’d danced and cuddled on his couch. No, it was better. 

His lips pressed softly against yours and you lost yourself in the gentle sensation. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you. You slid your palms up his chest and around his neck, tangling your fingers in his loose curls. He moaned when you tugged lightly and you felt a shiver run up your spine.

You opened to him and suddenly the kiss went from soft (and safe for public consumption) to heady (and edging towards too much for a public park). Frankie slid his hand down to cup your ass and you broke the kiss on a gasp.

“Frankie–” you sighed his name as he pressed a soft line of kisses down your neck. “I think we should get out of here before we get in trouble for public indecency. Or we run into any of my students.”

He snorted against your shoulder and you grinned. 

“Sorry, hermosa,” he murmured, lips still touching your skin. “Couldn’t help myself.”

He lifted his head to meet your eyes again, and you smiled as you took in his reddened lips and heavy lidded eyes. “Take me home, Frankie.”

He raised his eyebrows in question, and you nodded. He still asked, “home? To your home?”

You smiled and slid your hand down to tangle with his. “Yours, mine. Whichever one you’d like.”

Frankie grinned and started to lead the way back to his car. “Let’s go to yours, baby. I’ve got my phone if they need me.”

The two of you almost jogged back down the sidewalk, giggling when you ran into each other as Frankie maneuvered around a light pole. When you got to his car you were both grinning widely. He crowded you against the passenger door and pressed his smile of yours.

“Come on, Frankie,” you whispered against his mouth. “Take me home.”

He hummed and pressed his forehead against yours. “Whatever you want, hermosa.”

The tension only built higher in the car. Frankie drove with his left hand while his right stayed firmly clasped with yours on your thigh. Every few seconds he would glance at you and you watched with great interest as his eyes darkened.

When you pulled into his driveway, you were out of the car and moving towards your front door before he managed to get out. You looked back at him and smiled and he laughed. He jogged to catch up with you in front of your door, slipping his arms around you from behind and kissing your neck.

“In a hurry, hermosa?”

You smiled again as you unlocked the door. “Maybe just in a hurry to get inside where I can kiss you as much as I want.”

He hummed in agreement as the two of you stepped through your door. As soon as it shut behind you he turned you around and pressed you back into it. “Hi there,” he murmured against your mouth. 

You smiled into the kiss. “Hi Frankie.” He deepened the kiss and you welcomed it, falling into the feeling of Frankie and nothing else.

His hands came to rest on your hips again as he stepped closer. You could feel the heat of him all down your front and sighed as you let your head fall back against the door. He worked his way down your neck with firm kisses and a bit of teeth.

“Can I make you feel good, hermosa?” He squeezed your hips as he worried a small mark inside of your neckline.

“Yes, Frankie,” you breathed, tangling your hands in his hair.

He pressed forward with his hips and you felt again how hard and big his cock was in his pants. “Can I use my mouth on you? Please, baby. I’ll make it so good for you.” 

You gasped at the sudden mental image of Frankie on his knees in front of you, that smirk winding you up as he leaned forward. “Yes, Frankie,” your voice was thin and breathy and you felt him smile into your neck. “Please, yes.”

He slid his hands from your hips and tugged yours from his hair so he could tangle your fingers together. He started to walk backwards and you followed easily, kicking off your shoes by the door. “Come sit on the couch for me, bebita.” His eyes were locked on yours as he guided you to sit. When he knelt in front of you, you whimpered.

“Look at you,” he murmured, eyes sweeping over you as you sucked in a sharp breath. “So fucking beautiful.” He slid his hands up your legs and over your hips with a smirk. “You know that, right? You’re beautiful.”

You bit your lip and smiled. “I– I like it when you tell me,” you said, feeling a bit shy.

He deftly unfastened your pants and began to slide them down your hips with your underwear, guiding you to lift up your hips and ease the way. “You’re so beautiful.” He began pressing kisses along your thighs as they were revealed. “Can’t wait to see every part of you.” He nipped lightly at your thigh and you gasped. “Been dreaming about this.”

“Dreaming?” You repeated, head swimming from the feeling of his lips and his words.

“Dreaming,” he repeated as he tossed your pants behind him, “of the way your pussy tastes, bebita. Of making you fall apart on my tongue.”

Your hands clenched in the fabric of your couch at his words and your mouth fell open. “Fuck,” you whispered, and he grinned.

“C’mere, hermosa. Legs open.” He tapped your left thigh and you let your legs fall open to either side of him. His eyes locked on your pussy and darkened. “I knew it. So fucking pretty.”

Without hesitating, Frankie leaned forward and licked a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit. You moaned.

“That’s right. Let me hear you, bebita.” You felt his lips move and the vibration of his deep voice against your pussy and moaned again. He hummed and dove back in with enthusiasm.

Frankie pressed an open mouth kiss to your entrance, teasing around it with his tongue. When your hips twitched forward he took the invitation and slipped his tongue inside. He slowly thrust it forward once, and then twice, lips closed over your pussy. Your head fell back against the couch at the feeling of his tongue slipping inside of you, at the obvious pleasure he took in the act when he moaned. You could feel the vibration inside and gasped. 

He slipped his tongue from inside you and licked upwards towards your clit. You felt his fingers start to tease around your entrance at the same moment his tongue started to circle your clit, and you threaded your fingers through his hair. 

“Frankie,” you sighed, overwhelmed. “Yes, shit, Frankie–” you cut yourself off with another moan as he slipped two fingers inside of you and curled them upwards just right.

You began to lose yourself in the feeling of his fingers thrusting inside of you and his tongue working your clit expertly, devastatingly well. You felt a tingling at the base of your spine that climbed up your back. Your hands twisted in his hair as you felt yourself hurtling towards the cliff you knew awaited you, so close and coming closer.  

He twisted his fingers and pressed his tongue firmly to your clit and your back arched off the couch. “Frankie, I’m–” You tried to warn him, but it was already there, you were already teetering over the edge of the cliff when he closed his lips around your clit and gently sucked. 

Your eyes flew open as you fell over the edge and you keened his name, gripping his hair and almost pressing his face into your pussy as your orgasm swept over you. As it rushed from you your arms fell limp at your sides and you stared at the ceiling as you started to come back to yourself. 

You felt something come to rest against your hip and, with great effort, looked down to find Frankie grinning smugly at you, lips and chin wet and glistening.

“You are so fucking beautiful when you come, cariño.” His voice was deeper than usual and you shivered.

“H–” you tried to talk but had to clear your throat. You took a deep breath and tried again. “Holy shit, Frankie. You are really fucking good at that.”

You watched, charmed, as his nose crinkled with the size of his grin. 

“Yeah?” He asked, but you could tell he knew he was good at it. You poked him in the shoulder. 

“Yes, Frankie.” You bit your lip. “C’mere, handsome.” You tugged on his shirt until he moved, pulling him up and over you on the couch. You both turned until you were lying down with him above you and you tugged him into a deep kiss.

He thrust down against you and you realized you were both still clothed, other than your pants. You smiled and broke the kiss. “Take your pants off, Frankie.”

He smiled down at you. “Only if you take your shirt off, hermosa.”

You laughed. “Ok, new deal – no more clothes allowed. And maybe we move this to the bed.”

Frankie grinned and nodded. He stood and tugged you up alongside him, catching you with a firm arm around your waist. You could feel his cock still hard in his pants and smiled into a quick kiss. 

The two of you stayed tangled together as you walked towards your bedroom, giggling occasionally when you tripped over something or bumped into a wall. Each time he was there to catch you, strong arms holding you up.

By the time you reached your bed you were naked, and Frankie let his shirt drop to the floor just before he crawled over you. Your eyes roamed over his naked torso, and you opened your mouth to compliment him when you caught sight of his cock and froze, mouth wide.

He followed your gaze and preened, just a bit.

“Jesus, Frankie,” you breathed. “You’re fucking big.”

You met his eyes again and saw that he was grinning. “It’s ok, bebita.” He leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I promise it’ll fit.” A shiver ran up your spine and you swore you felt yourself somehow get even wetter than before.

“I was going to say,” you started as he leaned closer, hovering over you on his elbow, “you are so hot, Frankie.” You ran your hands from his broad shoulders down his sides and reached around to grip his ass with one. 

He blushed again and you smiled at the juxtaposition of his easy confidence about his skills in the bedroom and his shy response to any compliments about his looks.

“It’s true,” you insisted. “You’re hot. Deal with it.”

He laughed, and hid his face in your neck. His cock brushed against your pussy when he moved and you sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Well,” he pressed a kiss to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more room. He continued, lips brushing against your skin, “you’re so beautiful it takes my breath away. Clothes or no clothes.” He brought his free hand up to run his fingers lightly over your chest as he spoke and you sighed. His fingers slipped lower until they brushed over your slit. “Let me in, bebita.” You opened your legs for him again and he smiled against your neck. “Just like that.”

His fingers teased at your clit before sliding down to tease at your entrance, and you sighed when he slipped two inside of you. “Gotta make sure you’re ready,” he murmured, moving back up to capture your lips in a kiss. You met him eagerly, opening your mouth to tangle your tongues together. His hips thrust forward and his cock nudged against your thigh.

Frankie broke the kiss and took a deep breath. “You’re so wet, bebita.” He twisted his fingers inside of you and your eyes fluttered shut. “Just for me?”

You nodded, and he let out a soft moan. “Fuck, hermosa.” He kissed you again, hard and quick. “Wanted this for so long, and now you’re here, fuck–” He ducked his head to rest against your shoulder and you tangled your fingers in his hair again. He hummed.

“Wanted this too, Frankie,” you tilted your hips and felt his cock slide against your thigh again. “Want you inside me.”

He shivered and you felt his cock twitch where it was trapped between you. You grinned. 

“Condom?” He rasped, lifting his head up to catch your gaze.

You bit your lip and his eyes dropped down to watch. His fingers thrust into you again and you sighed. 

“I’m on birth control,” you started, and he groaned.

“You sure? I haven’t had sex in, well. A while. And I had to get a full work up and physical for this job.” His slid his fingers from inside you slowly and your hips chased them. He smiled.

“I’m sure, Frankie.” You smiled at each other until Frankie shook his head and began to move. He centered himself between your open legs and his cock slid over your pussy, making you gasp. 

“Ay, cariño,” he moaned, eyes falling shut. “You feel so fucking good.”

You tilted your hips and on his next thrust the head of his cock caught on your entrance. Frankie’s moan mixed with your own. 

“Ready?” He leaned down to kiss you and you nodded into the kiss.

“Yes, Frankie.” 

He captured your mouth again as the head of his cock slipped inside of you. Your hands flew up and around him again, one tangling in his hair and the other grasping at his back. His cock slid forward slowly but steadily and you lost yourself in the stretch, in all of the ways he was touching you, with his body and his cock and his mouth.

When he bottomed out, you were already floating upwards towards another peak.

He broke the kiss, breath heaving as he stopped moving with his cock fully inside of you. “You feel so good, bebita. Fuck.” You could hear the strain of staying so still in his voice and your pussy clenched around him. He shivered. 

“You’re so big, Frankie,” you murmured into his ear. “Feels like you’re everywhere.” 

He pressed a smile to your cheek and then your neck behind your ear. “That’s where I want you, bebita,” he broke off to nip at your neck, “everywhere.”

Frankie started to move, slowly, pulling backwards until just the head of his cock was inside of you. When he thrust forward again you moaned. You opened your eyes (when had you shut them?) to find him watching your face as he found a slow but devastating rhythm. He smiled, slow. “You’re so fucking amazing,” he said, tone full of wonder. “You’re beautiful on my cock, bebita. And you’re taking me so well.” He thrust forward again and you gasped.

“You feel so good, Frankie.” You had to tell him, too, you wanted him to know how good he felt inside of you, how good he was making you feel. “I’ve never–” He thrust forward again, eyes dancing over your face, and your breath hitched. “It’s never felt so good.”

He fell forward to kiss you again, and you began to move in unison, both chasing the feeling you knew was waiting just out of reach. It started to climb up your spine again, started to tingle through your body and you broke the kiss. “I’m close, Frankie–” he kissed you again, cutting you off. 

“I know. I can feel it.” He pressed his forehead to yours as you both worked towards your climaxes. “Just like that, shit.” Frankie reached down to tug your leg up around his hip. It changed the angle just enough that his next thrust sent sparks dancing over your skin. “Come on, baby. Give it to me. Please.”

Your breath caught and on his next thrust, you came. You reached the peak and toppled over the other side, arms tightening around him, pussy clenching around his cock. You felt the muscles in your torso tense and the strength of your orgasm as it swept through your body. You were breathing hard when you came back to yourself, to the sound of Frankie’s voice in your ear coaxing you through it.

“Just like that, hermosa. Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful. The way you come, fuck, never seen anything better, never felt so good.” His hips sped up and you clutched at him, urging him on.

“Frankie,” you breathed his name, and felt him shudder. “Come for me, handsome. I want to feel you.”

Your words tipped him over the edge and on his next thrust you felt it, watched his face as he tipped over the edge. Your eyes danced over his expression, not wanting to miss a single moment.

You both breathed hard for a moment, quiet, until Frankie’s eyes opened and found yours.

“Cariño,” he breathed, starting to smile. “That was amazing.”

You smiled, feeling some warm emotion start to fill your chest at the wonder in his voice. “It was so good, Frankie.”

He grinned so wide his nose crinkled, and you decided that was your favorite of his smiles. The one so big he couldn’t hold in the joy.

He leaned down to kiss you gently and slid his cock from inside of you as carefully as he could. You still gasped, lightly, when he slipped from you completely. He pressed a soothing kiss to your lips. “Let me get you cleaned up.” He was up and in your bathroom before you could blink, returning just as quickly with a warm washcloth and a soft smile.

Soon you were tucked into your sheets, legs tangled with Frankie’s, head resting on his chest. His hand rested lightly on your head and your arm looped securely around his waist.

“Frankie,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest. He hummed in response. “This was the best first date of my life.”

You knew he was smiling without looking up to check. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Mine too, hermosa.” He kissed you again. “Not to get ahead of myself, but–” he cut himself off abruptly and didn’t continue. Curious, you lifted your head to catch his eye. He looked happy but a little wary. 

“What is it?” you leaned forward to kiss him encouragingly and he smiled. 

“Well,” he kissed you again. “I was just thinking. Elena is going to be so smug when she realizes her plan got us together.” He swallowed, looking a little hesitant. “I mean–”

“Together?” You interrupted, and he nodded, expression a little shy. You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

Frankie grinned, wide, your favorite smile spreading across his face again. “Good.” He tugged you closer again. “Me too.”

...

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[pinkrelish]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶What happens when Eddie tries to hide the less-than-fun side of being a single parent from you, and you discover Miss Mouse can't always save the day?✶

NSFW — angst with a happy ending, reader wears eddie's hoodie, comfort, kissing, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 11/20 [wc: 14.2k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 11: In the Beginning...

——Then——

In the beginning…

It was January 31st, 1988, and Wayne had come in to check on him again. And maybe he had a reason to when Eddie continued to stare at the pockmarked ceiling, dressed in the same clothes as three days prior, laying on the same bedsheets last washed by well-meaning, pre-aged, liver-spotted, wrinkled hands gnarled from factory work after being tanned on a big rig’s steering wheel for decades.

No music played from the stereo record player; The Doors still sat with the album art turned, stopped mid-spin. The paperback on the nightstand remained unfinished, its dog-eared page trapped as a placeholder from New Year’s Eve. Dust and cigarette ash clung to the room as if saving it in a time capsule of the morning he was arrested, and any movement would disturb the illusion.

“Eddie?” Wayne called out to him with his Free name; one that shouldn’t hold a stigma, because Eddie was a free man, wasn’t he? He was innocent. Even if they hadn’t caught the other guy yet. “You okay if I go?”

Tracing the bumpy lines of the most recent tattoo on his stomach, he answered, “Yeah, I’m fine,” and his uncle breathed as he usually did when he was wringing his mouth with indecision.

Wayne twisted the doorknob, uncertain. “If you’re sure.. And, uh, I’ll stop by the hardware store and pick up somethin’ for the spray paint on the trailer if the cookin’ oil trick doesn’t work, don’t you worry about it.”

Whatever rude thing someone wrote this time, Eddie hadn’t gone outside in days to know.

After a long silence, Wayne cleared his throat and gave a gruff, “I’ll see ya after work,” and left, as foretold by his rackety truck fading further into the night, and the deadness of winter taking over. A staleness of midnight inactivity in the crisp air invading the guitars and amps and magazines Eddie never touched anymore; the ceramic of his bedside lamp, the model car next to his lighter, the binders stacked on his desk with a pencil he hadn’t sharpened since it broke six weeks ago. He didn't get much relief from his routine of ignoring, shutting down, isolating, and desperately trying to get tears to form when he had none left to give, so he wept agape and dry, spiraling downward.

The phone rang.

He wasn’t going to answer—he hadn’t since December unless under obligation—but in case it was Wayne, he did.

“Hello?” The other end of the line was equally hesitant to answer his unrecognizable voice, gone hoarse from disuse. “Hello?” he repeated.

“Eddie?” A beat. “I guess I’ll get this over with. Look, uh, do you remember selling to a girl at Brad’s party a couple months back? Not the Halloween one,” they said, definitely a young woman’s voice, but with each word spoken she lost her fluttery nervous edge and replaced it with a direct tone, leaving no time for him to dawdle.

He hurled his mind into searching his memories before the ones made in the weeks prior, only grazing past the details which haunted him, and registering the question he was asked. “Uh, yeah, yeah I think so. Ah, Sarah? Something generic like that. Sold to her a couple times before. Why?”

Her severe silence loaded the chamber. His forthcoming nature pulled the trigger, never learning when to shut his mouth and keep information to himself. There was no telling who he was speaking to, or what happened to the girl he sold to, or why he was the subject of interest. His stomach clenched in knots at the whiff of gunpowder. He was too relaxed at the prospect of a normal conversation. He said too much. It was happening again. The police sirens would wail any minute now. Whatever happened to Sarah—or whoever—was bad, and he incriminated himself. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

But it was her next words that fired the shot. Rang in his ears. And he knew then, as the cold sweat took over his body and bile stung his throat quicker than his heart leapt black spots to his vision, life as he knew it was over.

“I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.”

————

In the beginning…

It was March 7th, 1988, and Eddie walked out.

It was better than listening to Wayne blame himself for not doing enough, or being involved enough, or whateverthefuck he was saying about failing Eddie, because soon those judgments would turn into nags about how Eddie’s irresponsibility got himself into this mess, and those arguments would become shouting matches about his lack of preparedness for raising a baby, and Eddie would end the fight with his fist through the hallway closet door, where his piece of shit father’s jacket swung on the hanger and fell to the floor.

Following the Munson name.

————

In the beginning…

It was April 29th, 1988, and Eddie left his motel room to drive forty-five minutes outside of Hawkins to sit across from a woman in a dimly lit restaurant with her hand laid atop her round belly, and his cold chicken alfredo. The cheese in his oval shaped dish had coagulated, but he wasn’t hungry anyway.

The entire time his mouth ran sentences, he kept his gaze focused on a crumb dirtying the white tablecloth as the candle flickered shadows through their untouched water glasses. Yet, his tone remained animated and optimistic, though a bit hollow. “—So, uh, with the money from workin’ at the gas station, and what I have saved from that graveyard shift I picked up at the laundromat, I can afford the crib no problem. Maybe you could, ah, come with me to pick it out! I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for, but whatever you want, you got it. And—And I’ll start stocking up on diapers, and stuff. Y’know, different sizes. Some clothes. Could even get a nice baby blanket, or somethin’. I guess cribs have those teeny mattresses, so we’ll need sheets for that, too. Um, one of those, y’know, things that hangs over it and spins, puts them to sleep.” His lips hinted at his first smile in weeks at his dumb explanation for a mobile. “And with your job, you have health insurance, don’t you? That’ll.. That’ll really help us out,” he emphasized by bugging his eyes, and nodding. “There’s a position open at an auto shop in town that I’m gonna apply for, but I don’t think insurance will kick in until I work there for a certain number of days. Sucks, but it’s decent money. Better than what I make now, anyway. Um..” Thinking, he sorted through his plan for the future in his head, making sure he didn’t forget anything important—

That’s when he made the mistake of looking up, and a different type of heartache wrung his chest.

Indifference powdered her shimmery beige eyelids, darkening to smoky apathy at the outer corners with a touch of heavy mascara weighing her eyes half-closed. She appeared bored—he wished she appeared bored—but in the eternity he glanced at her, she resembled a loaded chamber moments from cutting him off.

Continuing, he said, “I can also handle the small stuff like bottles, and bibs, and pacifiers. Depending on how much the crib is, I can probably swing the carseat too, just gotta sell my other guitar, and—”

“Eddie,” she stated. He winced.

There was no trace of his smile left on his lips; trembling and licking at the sore metallic-tasting spot he bit out of habit. The first sign of rejection welled behind his eyes. A sense of shame clogged his throat, but he tried, “Are people still bothering you about me?” he asked, so meek and defeated.

Her words were a merciless killing, “Does it matter?” He shrugged, running the side of his hand along the table’s edge, concentrating on the crumb. “And don’t bother buying anything.”

“Why not?” he faltered. “I’m not gonna be some deadbeat who doesn’t provide, okay? I’m good on my word.”

“You know why.”

The cruelty, the truth he denied, struck him.

“You don’t want to try?” His voice went watery, and the candles swam in his vision. “We’re having a baby together, and you don’t want to try and work something out between us?” There was a reason he avoided addressing where the crib would go, or what the arrangement was after coming home from the hospital. In the first few calls they had, she seemed interested when he rattled off the list of cheap apartments he found around Hawkins scribbled into his notebook, and when he lightened the bleak mood with a joke, she laughed, sort of.

Though, he was always the one to call her, and her answers were refined to short words such as yeah, or no. And she did pick up the phone less often, but she was busy with University or her career or there was a family thing that had come up or she was just headed out the door, so he stuck with planning their future by himself, aware of the ugly reality twisting his stomach with dread.

Maybe he was being naive, but he thought she’d come around by now. See how responsible he was being, and maybe.. maybe..

“I’m not interested,” she dismissed him in monotonously stern frankness.

“I thought you said you liked me,” he reminded her, on the verge of something pathetic, “at the party.”

The corner of her jaw twitched from an emotion she ground between her teeth.

That was the final straw.

She swung her gaze around the restaurant, releasing a hard sigh of frustration, and shaking her head. Dropping her hand to the bottom of her belly, she leaned forward, and eviscerated any hope he had for them being together. “I’m not interested,” she hissed under the susurration of nearby tables, “in raising a baby with someone whose reputation is for giving girls discounts when they flirt with him.”

Eddie shrunk into himself, not expecting the hit below the belt.

“You’re just the loser dealer that all the guys send their girls to because they know you’re too lonely to turn them down. I wish I stuck with flirting, because let me tell you, having a couple of smarties to get me through last semester wasn’t fucking worth it.” She motioned at her stomach, he assumed. “I almost missed my finals because I couldn’t stop puking.”

Fat drops wobbled his vision. Anxious sweat from holding his breath prickled his hot face. His knuckles hurt from clacking them against one another, punching bone-on-bone in his lap to distract himself from letting the venom win. Biting impressions of his teeth into tongue from the weight of his one chance at normalcy slipping through his fingers.

The ache of deep-seated rejection stung worse, built worse, escalated worse with every heartbeat echoing in his head: not even someone who’s having your kid wants to be with you.

Chairs skid across the tiles behind him, and a family stood to leave. Eddie faced the stained glass window as they passed, pretending to admire the intricate details while warm tears spilled over the dam, and onto his cheeks in steady drops like rain. Drip, drop, drip, drop..

Embarrassment, failure, freak..

Even before he was wrongfully arrested, his reputation was trash.

Pathetic loser not good enough for his dad, his uncle. Can’t pass fucking high school, or get a girl to stick around for more than a few weeks; just long enough to feel the safety of attachment, learn their likes and dislikes, what their favorite flowers were, and then they’d leave too..

“Doesn’t matter,” she exhaled. One, two—she took two calming breaths through her nose while his was running, and he was trying to not sniffle through the grossness of crying.

Composed and diplomatic, she sat up, smoothed the buttons of her burgundy maternity blouse stretched across her swollen middle, and informed him “I’m giving her up for adoption.”

Eddie froze.

Her.

Tiny tines of salad forks ceased clinking on plates. Silly dull knives unworthy of much else sank into whipped butter, and stopped. Pretty laughter faded, leaving red lipstick kisses staining the rims of wine glasses.

Her.

He froze. A strange cliche to explain how his body reacted. How his heart pounded, and tears splashed onto his clenched fists. How his brain latched onto one word, one word only, and the blood drained from his cheeks to pool liquid rage in his empty belly. How his temper surged like a wave, and crashed, again and again on the shore of fate. How he was thinking sharper, seeing clearer, smelling the raw flame of the candle being snuffed out from his sudden movement.

The tableware rattled when he planted his elbow next to his forgotten dinner, and pointed a stern finger at her stomach. “That’s my daughter, and you will not—”

“C’mon, Ed—”

“No,” he cut her off. He didn’t give a damn if another tear rolled from his wide eyes when he said it, he put conviction behind his voice even when it cracked, “That’s my daughter, and you are not giving her up for adoption.”

“Be serious,” she spat back. “You don’t have the means to take care of a baby. I’m doing this as a favor for the both of us. Mostly for you.”

Eddie sucked his bottom lip inward and chewed the flesh. Shivers of indignation trembled his body, and his nostrils flared from the absolute power he invoked to rein his voice from the snap, bite, snarl his upper lip suggested. “I don’t care what you think is best,” he maintained through the viscous tar coating his refusal in the abhorrence she deserved. “That baby.. She’s mine.” He nodded until the motion was ingrained, and her expression changed. Pointing to himself, now. “She’s mine, and I want her.”

There wasn’t much thought put behind his decision. It was done. It was innate. It was automatic, and her soft warning—”You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,”—was as heeded as the candle’s flame.

He paid for the date. It cost five hours of his minimum wage. That was all his money. He was hungry when he got back to his shitty motel; opening the door to darkness, and a suitcase of dirty clothes he’d need to sort before going to work at the gas station at the edge of town where his boss cut his hours last week because it was making customers uncomfortable to see a criminal serve them at the till, and a new sound replaced the ding of the cash register: loser, loser, loser..

Already, he couldn’t afford diapers.

Already, he failed.

Already, he was worthless.

Already, he was alone.

Not even the woman he was having a baby with wanted to be with him.

——Now——

Eddie hung up the phone, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall for long moments, listening to the rain pattern shift above. The storm spilled its sorrows on the tin roof, uncaring if the structure could handle the stress of another trial when it was weak and susceptible. It poured, and poured. Ruthless. Vicious and brutal as nature could be, targeting the vulnerable and strong alike.

His back broadened with a breath, and finally, he dropped his hand from the yellowed plastic, staring at the dial pad as his arm went limp at his side. Absorbed by his thoughts as the old night rolled into another low growl of thunder, and whatever was on his mind reflected heavily in his vacant appearance.

“Ed?” You waited for him with a kind lift to your brows, but as soon as his glance landed, your chest tightened.

The emotion in Eddie’s eyes was heavily guarded, communicating little as to what caused the tenseness in his jaw when he averted his gaze to the floor, walking fast and purposefully away from you standing half-dressed in his kitchen, and stopping at the front door with his head down. Going through the motions of buttoning his pants, and buckling his belt, rigid and rough, snapping the leather against itself.

“Is Adrie okay?” you asked, voice coming out painfully shallow, like when you were using it to diffuse a customer service issue with the breeze of happiness and a plastered smile.

Leaned over, he shoved his feet into his boots, and began lacing. “She’s fine.”

Blunt, and closed off. Not like your Eddie from an hour ago. And you didn’t know how to navigate asking him what was wrong, and easing him into opening up to you, coaxing him back to that place of union and understanding.

Left feeling confused, you gleaned that this wasn’t the time to bother him about it, and mumbled, “Okay,” and assumed the rest. You dragged the whispery ends of the blanket across the floor, and picked your sweater off the carpet, having that particular sense of embarrassment as if you’d missed a cue, and should’ve read the room sooner, and been clothed and leaving without him asking.

You dressed in silence, doing up the buttons on the cardigan he so skillfully slipped you out of. Treading over linoleum to wash the evening off your hands and mouth. Making yourself small to fit next to him in the entryway, and putting on your shoes in a state of quiet obedience, missing the warmth of his hands and the comfort of his lovesick grin. Wilting under the coldness of his attitude, and wanting nothing more than to reach out, and soothe that bit of regret knotted between his eyebrows.

He regarded the exposed skin of your upper chest, and handed you his black hoodie from where it hung next to his canvas work jacket. “Here.”

Here wasn’t much of a break in the distance he resurrected between you, but you pulled the heavy scent of cigarettes and cologne over your head, and he almost found himself braving eye contact to tell you, “I’m dropping you off first.”

“What? No,” you blurted, “I’m going with you to pick her up. She’s just scared of thunderstorms, right? No big deal, you can drop me off after.” Which seemed like the right thing to say; that you were fine with Adrie crying, but when he set his gaze on you, a small image of yourself swam in his endless pupils, and your stomach clenched at the animal warning in his unbreakable stare.

Eddie shook his head an imperceptible amount, only enough to loosen the curtain of curls tucked beneath his jacket’s collar, and shift the lamp’s glare at the edge of his bitter coffee eyes. It was a threat to back off. Leave well enough alone. Stop encroaching on the parts of his life he hid, and keep the illusion intact.

“I wanna go,” you assured gently.

However, your support fell short when challenged against the aggressive shine swallowing you whole. He looked at you. Really looked at you with the same intensity as when his hands were on your hips and you rocked yourself in his lap, chests flush together with a lazy prayer of your name on his tongue; when nothing mattered more than honoring each other with lips and teeth, tasting sweat on necks and sucking bruises until moans were spilled from heads thrown back. But instead of unraveling you in shocks of pleasure, the ignorance of your child-free lifestyle softened the harsh lines of his face, and slowly, slowly, the shine dulled. The fight left him.

He saved his apology until his back was turned, and the squeaky doorknob gave under his heavy palm—turning it with too much force—and he cracked open the world beyond the two of you, dousing the lingering tenderness of your affection on his skin with frigid mist. “Sorry tonight ended this way.” The door banged open on the rusted iron handrail, caught on a gust.

The trailer park was bright with daylight. Flash, after flash.

Eddie’s silhouette eclipsed the doorway, outlined in lightning. He stood impossibly taller—like the animal threat still lurked within his structure, and caution stayed within your subconscious, altering how you perceived his lanky frame into something more imposing. His shoulders carried many burdens, bulked from five years of hard labor, possessing strengths you couldn’t imagine. He stepped to the side, insisting the door stay open with the spread of five fingers only, and his body no longer shielded you. You were exposed to the cold splash of rain on your shins. His palm was firm at your lower back, and you peered up at the hard set of his jaw feathering the muscle at the corner, sweeping the bone in a mature edge of stubble. Strands of his frizzy hair whipped in the wind. Droplets speckled his nose like freckles. His gaze, anchored on his car through the downpour, brewed with resentment.

His deep timber resonated in your chest beneath the safety of his hoodie, “Car door’s open, I’ll lock up behind you.”

And you were pushed.

Beaten down to a hunch, you took careful strides in your heeled shoes down the concrete steps and into the soft mud, covering your head as best you could from the cloud’s assault, and flinching at the closeness of the strikes darting around the boundary of treetops surrounding the trailer park. You tried the handle, and the car welcomed you into its dry insides. Guilt followed your tracks of caked on mud, leaves, and dead weeds on his nice red interior, but when you shivered to the bone, you didn’t care as much. Curled in on yourself, you spied Eddie’s vague shape through the waterfall blurring the windshield, and listened to his heavy boots trudge up to the door, and soon, the car sank with his weight too.

The engine roared to life. Heat wouldn’t come from the tiny AC units for some time, but the promise of such gave you hope. Eddie, beside you, drenched beyond measure, did not match your enthusiasm. Shadowed streams snaked across his pinched expression, swimming down his heavy brow, and splitting his raw lips. His bangs stuck to his forehead, and his cheeks trembled from his clacking teeth.

Soft music played from the radio station.

Riders on the Storm.

Two booms of thunder ended your small attempt at a smile from the timing.

Leftover adrenaline pulsed in your veins, fumbling your grip on the seatbelt. Wet earth and unease stroked your skin like skeletal hands, muddying your tights, and soaking his hoodie, weighing it down to your crushed sweater beneath. You wanted to speak; to poke, to prod, to press him to talk to you. The questions were there. On your tongue. At the ready; inviting him to tell you why his mood soured over a situation out of his control, other than the obvious weather.

But Eddie’s face was carved with irritation, baring his teeth as he attempted to buff circles into the icy fog on the windshield, only for it to cloud over in an instant. “C’mon..”

The wipers couldn’t keep up with the powerful current, and the tires struggled to find traction. “Fucking—damnit,” he said, interrupted by him slapping the steering wheel, cascading water off his work jacket, and onto every surface around him.

You twisted your hands in your lap at his mild slip in temper.

Now was not the time to bother him.

In a lurch, your shoulder bumped the door, and your head rocked side to side from the car backing over the swell of mud behind the tires. With another frustrated stomp on the gas, it evened out on paved road, and though the visibility was low, you were off towards the nicer side of Hawkins.

For once, he drove responsibly. Street signs could be read before he passed them. Fallen limbs in the road could be avoided, not ran over. His rings tinked off the glass when he rubbed at the thin fog, and the music was dialed to a somber ambiance behind the deep sighs through his nose. Dark stretches of treetops bent to the wind’s will. Short buildings sat so dim beyond the faint streetlights, they might as well have been deserted. Each red light was a necessary break for him to shove his fingers in the air vents to thaw them.

He never spoke. Never looked at you. He kept himself busy with tasks, and when those tasks were over and his hands were defrosted and the windshield was mostly clear, he regressed within himself. Unnervingly quiet. Turning onto streets with heavier regrets sagging his features the longer he crawled in front of white picket fence houses, and stopped.

The two story home was lit beautifully by the ornate sconces placed on either side of the doorway. Their lawn was manicured, and the sidewalk was free of weeds. No cars were at the mercy of the storm, they were parked inside the two-door garages. There was activity behind the embossed curtains hung in the living room of the residence. Presumably, the biggest shape was the father who called over the phone.

Someone who wore a business suit to the preschool’s Thanksgiving play lived here.

Eddie stalled. He remained seated forward, hands gripped at 10 and 2, squeezing the steering wheel as rain echoed in the belly of the car, battering the roof inches above your damp hair. There was a pause in his movements, his breathing. An awareness in his silence at the questions you didn’t ask. Tension in his pursed lips, rubbing them together as he surveyed the street.

He opened his mouth. Then, he thought better of it, and got out.

Your earnest call of his name was swallowed by the sea cleansing his body of your night together.

Leaping up the bullnose brick stairs, Eddie raised his hand, but before he could knock, the artisanal stained glass shimmered with movement. The immaculate door opened to a winced face. The man’s glasses were askew on his aged eyes, and his peppered hair hung over his eyebrows, no longer gelled back. He exchanged a few tight words with Eddie as Adrie was handed over, and Eddie, of course, shuffled into a meek posture, dipping his head, apologizing profusely. Almost bowing to this man dressed in matching pajamas and a robe. In horror, you watched the door close during one such apology. You could tell it happened in the middle of him speaking, because you had to sit through the agony of Eddie animatedly explaining something only for him to look up, straighten at the realization, and stand there for a few more seconds until the sconces dimmed off.

Worse, still, he cowered in the nook as cruel rain belted his back, doing his best to bundle Adrie in her tattered quilt and securing her on his hip, keeping all of her dry except her little legs wrapped around his middle. She buried her face in his neck, and he hesitated on the balls of his feet, judging the distance between the house and the car. His large palm covered the blanket over her head. All he had was his jacket.

Lightning revealed his weary frown.

At the clap of thunder, he sprinted.

Back in New York, at the going away party your friends threw in your and Robin’s honor, they warned you about moving to the Tornado Alley, and what to look for if one were to appear—green skies and all—but most importantly, they told you an incoming tornado sounded like a train. Being city dwellers, they wouldn’t actually know, but Robin confirmed it. And now you could too, because the piercing wail coming towards you could only belong to a natural disaster, not a four-year-old girl.

Murky water flooded to Eddie’s ankles from where it rushed against the sidewalk, sloshing in with his boot stomped to the floorboard for balance as he ducked inside amidst the fuss. He got Adrie into her carseat as quickly as possible. In the chaos, her overnight backpack fell somewhere in the dark, her quilt was chucked aside, and he cursed when the buckle bit into his thumb. She had a fistful of his hair, tangling it, making it harder to see what he was doing. He may have even threatened her full name to let go. It was hard to hear on account of the shrieking.

“Daddy!” The vowels were elongated, broken by hiccups. He shut the door, and in the small space with no escape, her big emotions rang louder. “Daddy!” Again, the y was screamed with the full power of her lungs, which would be impressive for their tiny size if it wasn’t for the pounding in your skull. She hollered louder when he sat heavily behind the wheel, “Daddy!” He didn’t shush her fourth tantrum spilt on his name; he accepted it, knowing it was futile.

It took all your strength to blink. Sat half-turned in your seat, frozen, gaze unfocused, marveling at your brain’s ability to function. You shifted your attention to Eddie’s face, a surprising few inches from yours.

The heat of his concentration scorched shame to your cheeks.

Avoidant no longer, your reaction to Adrie’s meltdown was the sole subject of his interest. Zeroed in on, dissected, and picked apart by just his eyes alone. Didn’t matter which eye you shied from, you were pinned in both, your discomfort blatant for him to witness. Your clamped mouth, your apologetic withdrawal, your fidgety fingers on your skirt; all of it. All of it was captured in his periphery because he didn’t dare break sight as he turned the key in the ignition, and started a raucous engine you couldn’t remember being turned off.

Humbled by the girl assaulting your senses, your questions were answered.

This was why he didn’t want you to come. This was why he slighted you with a pointed look from the recesses of his annoyance when you trivialized his daughter’s behavior as ‘No big deal.’ This was why he kept you separate from his parental sphere where everything wasn’t made of sunshine and rainbows. This—coming to terms with your inexperience staining each uncontrollable contortion of your unprepared expression—was why he never let anyone near his heart.

Adrie could no longer form his name through her open-mouthed cries, resorting to plain, wet screams which trilled past your eardrums, resulting in a throbbing headache.

At that, he grasped the gear shift, put his boot to the gas, and cut fat lines through the river overflowing the pampered neighborhood streets.

Eddie’s anger was a presence. His embarrassment, too. Just like at the auto shop when problems stacked and stacked into an unbearable weight on top of his sleepless nights and long mornings, he turned inward to delay his outburst. To feel everything so fully in his fists wringing the leather covered steering wheel until it creaked, and teeth gritted until they begged no more. Just that one second to release his frustration, and then it was suppressed from sight. But you felt it. His ire rested below your braced muscles, beneath your clammy palms and in your shallow breath. It invaded the tidy home you kept behind your ribs, taking up residence in your hammering heart.

The humiliation of having the date end when it did paid its dues in his bad mood. Disappointment radiated off his narrowed eyes, and slack frown. “Adrie,” he warned in a low tone.

She bawled louder, shriller than the crack of lightning.

The immense pressure to adapt was upon you. There was no sense in parsing what he expected you to do in this situation, it was clear he was soured by your ineptitude the moment you let it show on your face, but.. Only two short weeks ago, he relied on you to divert Adrie’s meltdown before DND night. And sure, she had already stopped crying by the time you got there, but you could come to his rescue again, couldn’t you?

You twisted around in your seat, proud of yourself for thinking of a solution, and showed him you could handle a modicum of parenthood. “Adrie, look!” you tamped down your children’s television host voice to a delightful, excited cheer, “I’m here. Miss Mouse is—!” Shocked with your hand reaching towards her, shooting pain traveled up your arm from her swift kick to your wrist. You recoiled, rubbing at your forearm without blame. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t even looking at you. Her fit was directed at the window she couldn’t peel her attention from, dropping tear after tear from her swollen eyes at the thunder shaking the car. “Adrie?” you tried softer, but she beat her hands on the carseat harder. Wailed until you were defeated to a wince. Yelled until you accepted a unique heartbreak you weren’t prepared for.

Miss Mouse couldn’t always save the day.

Acute twists of rejection wrung your chest. Eddie wasn’t the type to say I told you so, he wasn’t mean like that, but when you sat forward and your gazes moved past one another, never quite meeting, you knew what he was thinking.

Little else stung worse than his obvious cynicism at how this date was concluding.

Exacerbating the issue, Adrie escalated to screeching her distress. Every open sob of hers pulled your focus, invaded your brainspace, overpowered any thought before it began, and set your teeth on edge from the high-pitched squeals you swore vibrated in your bones. Her behavior seeped into your nerves, winding them up, scratching them with the very tip of a brittle nail, inciting a riot. The need to flee crawled under your skin. Breathing was uncomfortable. Your ankle hurt. There was to break in between the blinding pulses of your headache. The car was too hot, too cold, too swerving from the high winds buffeting it sideways. Your tights were too tight. His hoodie too stifling. Itchy yarn from your sweater chafed your damp neck. Alarms of panic battled inside. Louder, louder, louder—Adrie cried louder. Eddie’s lips tugged down at the corners, chin wrinkled, tensing his face from a sadder response. Your lashes fluttered from the chokehold his frown had on you. Fingernails bit your palms. You tried to bide your time, to resist snapping. Dug down deep for something, something you could do, something.. innate. Some answer within you to fix it all. To get her to stop. To get him to relax. Something, something, something—instinctual.

“Pull over!” you barked; Eddie had every right to whip his head around at your sudden demand, but in your panicked state you only cared about the road ahead. “Ju-Just—just—” You scanned the dark parking lot outside the hardware store, and stabbed your finger on the cold window, pointing past it. “The gas station! Under the roof-thing.”

When it wasn’t clear he heard you, you turned towards him at the same time he leaned forward to catch your eye. Justifiable skepticism burdened his brow, tightening the edges of his crow’s feet. His lips hung parted with a confirmation hesitating between them; however, it was silenced after you maintained your need, and the fight against the wind won.

Soppy pebbles scraped wet asphalt, muddied in the bump and grind from Eddie turning too sharply into the sloped driveway, banging into a pothole, and rattling the innards of his already rocky cargo. He careened towards the closed convenience store with its row of dim fluorescent lights inside. Pulling up alongside the gas pumps, he slammed the breaks. A second later, he slapped the windshield wipers OFF, violently shushing their grating squeak.

His patience strained thinner. Working through the sensory overload festering like infected wounds on blistered skin, he rumbled a shallow apology past his aching teeth. Quickly, it devolved into a barrage of doubt. “Look, I’m sorry she—Wait, where’re you—?” The instant fear of rejection shot past his octave. “Wait! Please don’t—”

Cruelly, he thought; heartlessly, he knew; the sun-faded black cotton draped about your shoulders was the last image his adrenaline latched onto, playing it over, and over, door slam and all. He wasn’t parked for more than a clock tick, and you hurled yourself out into the storm, leaving him behind. His first assumption was gentle. Kind whispers stroked the angst in his chest, telling him you needed a break from the noise, that was all. Then the hatred of abandonment gutted his center.

“Giving up already?” he asked aloud in a conclusion only meant to hurt himself when no one was there to answer.

As if sensing his hopelessness, Adrie sniffled into the worst of her hyperventilated cries. Broken disjointed things. Sinking him deeper, deeper into his seat, crossing his arms over his caved chest, shuddering at the hot sting wobbling his vision at his own inadequacy.

Never good enough for anyone to stay.

Tremors of repressed memories wakened the churn of nausea making him sick.

“Baby, baby, it’s okay,” soothed a voice behind him, trickling in with the splash of faraway drops. “It’s okay, sweet baby, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Eddie jerked his chin up and stretched his neck to see into the rearview mirror. The wall of water teetering on his lash line made everything blur, so he tugged down the slick skin beneath his eyes to suck back the tears, and almost allowed them to spill at the scene behind him anyway.

In the reflection, you crawled across the backseat and unbuckled Adrie’s carseat, learning how to maneuver the straps from watching him. She reached for you, your hair, your clothes; small fists belying their strength. You didn’t care. You calmed her struggles with pretty words. “It’s okay, yeah, you can hold on to me, baby. Let’s get you wrapped up nice and warm. There we go.” Shhh. “Let me see your face, so I can clean you up.” Shhh.

“M–M-Mizz Mou—se,” Adrie got out between body-wracked sobs.

“Mhm, I’m here.” Shhh. “Miss Mouse is here.”

—Oh.

“Baby..” So modest was his whisper when so resolute was his yearn.

He leapt into motion, flushed with adrenaline.

The ripple effect of your actions caused tidal waves to swell and crash over him; body hitched in the place where his past convinced him he lost it all, only to collapse into a stuttered exhale of acceptance, understanding there was someone out there who cared about him to this degree; throat constricting with gratitude he could only express by stumbling out into the foggy cold, throwing open the door, and sliding into the backseat with you.

His fingers grazed the baby hairs at your nape on their way to the side of your head, using his wide palm which took up too much room to cradle you steady with a gentleness unknown to his tough skin. He trusted you to forgive him for how hard he knocked his forehead to your temple, and smashed his nose to the soft of your cheek. He need not worry. Beautifully, you adjusted to the bulky arm behind your neck, leaned into the crook of his body he hollowed out for you, and filled the familiar place at his side. You worked diligently to clear his daughter’s face while he passed a strong hand over her back and dropped it to shape his grip at the end of your thigh, curving his fingers in and slotting them to the underside, behind your knee.

“S’okay, Adrie,” you cooed, wiping at the sticky grossness clinging to her nose. “I’ve got you,” you continued the mantra, albeit with a lapse in motherly tenderness as a result of trying not to gag too hard.

Outside the car, the gas station’s tall canopy provided enough coverage to stop the rain from pounding the roof. Harsh winds howled past, encouraging the woeful sobs dropped onto your breasts, but the lightning stayed within the clouds, and the thunder faded in the distance. “Look at me,” you guided, sweeping the hoodie’s cuff over her puffy cheeks glowing splotchy red from the neon beer signs in the postered up convenience store windows. “We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.”

Eddie lips pulled thin against your skin, breath stuttering damp and thick on your neck like a smothered cry.

“Nothing bad can happen when we’re here, okay?” Repeating the union of you and him, you went on, “We’ve got you. You’re safe with us. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here. Right, sweet bean?” You tucked the quilt around her feet, and held her close. “We won’t let anything bad happen to you, ever.”

With her hands latched into the folds of fabric around your neck—cotton, yarn, and canvas—her big coughs were cushioned by your arms snuggling her to your front while Eddie’s chest was at her back, embracing her between your two bodies converging to protect her in a toasty nest. Warm air hummed from the vents, shooing off the stale chill clinging to the backseat, now disturbed by activity and plucky guitar strings playing over the radio.

Across the Universe.

Undertaking the complexities of the man rubbing his forehead into your hair with the same sort of neediness as his little girl wringing your clothes, you assumed the responsibility of consoling them both. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you mumbled the lyrics into the patchwork quilt covering Adrie’s curls. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you sang to Eddie, face tipped up and eyes falling closed, seeking out his nose to trace the tip of yours along the soft bumps in a devoted offering after the turbulent events causing you both inner strife.

His fingertips became an imposing force spread across the scope of your cheek, turning you toward him, capturing you in a deeper kiss than you were ready for. It was demanding, hard with desperation, misaligned and urgent. Born out of necessity in the moment. He kissed you in front of his daughter, where she could see if she picked her face up from your chest, and a dart of surprise lit your heart at the recklessness. You kept a level hand atop her head in case he’d come to regret the decision, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. He sighed into a second helping, and at the sound of the wet smack, she stirred.

Adrienne hooked her fingers into your collar and sniffled hard, soothing herself from further cries by hugging you tight, huddling into your comfort, oblivious to what was happening around her.

Easily, you fell into the third kiss. Became what he needed, mouths mashing together at the odd angle, your lower lip plush between his. Dizzying amounts of reverence manifested in his spontaneity. He packed a lifetime’s worth of bottled up feelings into the affection he was privileged to. Giving, and taking. But his impulses were still a puzzle. When he’d drank his fill, he squeezed your leg, broke apart from your lips in a silent slick slide, and drew a deserved breath.

“Sorry, no one’s ever just.. done that for me before.” He shrugged his hand off your thigh at the poor summary of the millions of things on his mind, and left it at that.

Spurred by the praise, you seized the opportunity for communication. “Remember how before we played DND that night, I told you to call me first next time you needed help?” you reminded him, and something vulnerable, maybe even pleadful, entered your tone. “I want to be someone you can rely on, Eddie.”

An unfortunate amount of complicated emotions passed in his eyes. There wasn’t much to garner from them, nor his soft grunt when he dropped his nose to the column of your neck, above Adrie’s head, and regressed into his quiet self. Reserved. Hard to decipher. He did speak up once to warn you she would fall asleep with how you were holding her—same as he did most nights on the couch while Late Night with David Letterman aired—and you embellished your promise to him with a kiss to the stringy curls frizzing at his scalp, “That’s okay.”

And it was okay, truly, when the storm raged heaves of rain against the car, spraying the windows with shocks of water. You dabbed Adrie’s cheeks. Wiped her nose. Rocked her in the same tempo as the backs of Eddie’s fingers stroking your cheekbone, flexed bicep behind your neck. Thunder occurred. Lightning happened. But with your quick thinking, lulling gestures, and genuine effort to speak past the fondness clogging your throat, you calmed her. Calmed her so well, in fact, her hands went limp and her body relaxed, fatigue claiming her victim to the numbered sheep hopping over fences in her dreams. After her tantrums, she was taxed out. Drained.

Stuck in the cramped middle between Eddie and the carseat, you rearranged your legs before they went tingly numb from her weight on your lap, and shifted the pressure off your heels. It was sweet having her fall asleep on you. Her slow breaths filled your arms as a reward for your efforts to hush her. The quilt smelled of their home, cozying itself in your lungs and sweeping you in a sense of longing for the humidity in his kitchen after making soup.

Though, as much as you thrived on the temporary role you played as parent—taking over for Eddie and dwelling on the fact Adrie slept propped on your chest like the many times she napped on his stained coveralls—you could do without the additional pain of him leaning on you too.

You groaned at the sharp twinge in your spine from slouching sideways, and conveniently, your movement roused his consciousness. He launched into a sleepy inhale. Robust, filling his lungs to the brim, too loud, too silly and sweet. He primed you for a solid press of the bridge of his nose to your jaw by thumbing you towards him, after which he pulled away, separating himself from you fully.

Eddie rolled his shoulders, stretching out from the uncomfortable position, and faced the window. He commented in a sincere tone, “You’re good with kids.”

“I know how to entertain kids,” you corrected him. “I don’t know how to do any of the hard shit you do.”

The streetlights painted strokes of dotted orange on his complexion cast in shadow. He played with the tips of his fingers, squishing each one in a line as he ruminated, staring elsewhere, perspiration blurring the outerworld, sealing yourselves in this crowded car together. “You do a good job,” he reassured, petering out in a hoarse whisper.

Ceaseless nerves gnawed at his absent-minded ring spinning. Not a big production like when he wrung his hands or bit his nails, but enough to show he was getting anxious. You’d expected his leg to be bouncing by now, but it was laying softly against yours. Something big was on his mind.

You bumped your knee into his. “Talk to me.”

Talk to me. Yes, you asked the world of him. You knew it, too. Encouraging his gaze to flick to Adrie bundled in your arms, and back to the window. His eyes weren’t wide with fear, just larger than normal at the subtle confrontation. It was time he opened up to you. There wasn’t a concrete ultimatum if he didn’t, but there was a mutual understanding that if this were to continue, he needed to trust you to be there for him. No more reluctance.

He extended his hand towards your knee, patting twice before claiming it in the great breadth of his palm, stroking his thumb over the thin pantyhose; bridging the gap from his earlier behavior, but not yet apologizing for the soreness he caused.

Sorting his thoughts, his throat bobbed twice on the swallow.

And of all the questions he could ask, of all things he could say, of all the topics he could choose, he picked, “Did you ever want kids?”

Heat swam to your cheeks, blood rushed to your ears. Buds of true belonging bloomed at the question, adorning stems of untended longing first planted during the Christmas party at work, ever growing. Your heart pumped faster at the inherent past and implied future of the subject. His curiosity was a mild prod, perhaps not meant to encourage these leaps in logic considering he announced it in the same buckled cadence of someone who was asking about the weather—and yet, the hold it had on you was impossible to deny. A blend of you, Adrie, and him, just like now, but in different contexts—different meanings other than sitting in the back of his car—something domestic, like being piled together on the couch watching Disney movies; that’s what was pushed to the forefront of your mind.

But, despite those instantaneous fantasies, this was a place for honesty, and the significance of your pause between his question and yours was an entity of its own, stiff like his posture.

“Are you ready for this conversation?” you checked. He fostered an anxious glance and nod. “Having kids is not something I ever saw for myself, no.”  The consequence of your answer marked his immediate dropped eye contact, but ever patient with him, you continued strongly, “With how I dated and moved around, I didn’t think it was for me, that sort of lifestyle. It’s just not something I put a lot of thought into except when my friends were having kids, and really, they kinda turned me off of the idea. Pregnancy sounds.. daunting. Or—you know—really fucking scary. They’d always talk about how awful it is, all the complications you could have, the risks, the near death experience in one case,” you broke off in a squirm. “And then you don’t even get the relief once the baby comes. Like, seriously, taking care of a newborn sounds straight up terrifying.”

Eddie cracked. His hiss of laughter was a welcomed reprieve, especially when it sank to his chest, gripping his shoulders in a hearty shake. “Y-Yeah,” he got out, face crinkled in all the ways you adored, “it is straight up terrifying.”

You giggled in the softest way, careful to not disturb Adrie’s shallow breaths, and careful to not swoon too head-over-heels over the image of him rocking a baby. “It seems easier when they’re older, though,” you said, broaching the real crux of the conversation with your chin dipped to the top of her head. “Like it’s not as bad when they can actually communicate why they’re crying, or tell you what’s bothering them.”

“Not necessarily easier, just different,” he clarified. “It’s less about making sure this little tiny thing that can choke on its own snot survives the night, and more about the emotionally draining problems like her telling you about her day at preschool, explaining a situation where a group of kids kept giving her tasks to do that sent her away, and she’s smiling so big when she’s telling you, thinking it was a game, but deep down you’re just waiting for the heartbreak years down the line when she realizes they gave her errands to run because they were excluding her, and the reason they were laughing every time she came back was because they took joy in being mean to her.”

Wilt tinted your faint, “Oh..”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He upped the pressure he used to pat and rub your knee. “S’part of life.”

Consumed by his side profile, you studied the scope of his impassive expression set on the premature lines edging his face. The urge to find the right thing to say amidst the convoluted churn of anger on his behalf, and sadness on Adrie’s, itched something fierce beneath your skin. Ultimately, no words of inspiration came.

Eddie took an anticipatory breath.

The radio garbled advertisements for the station’s sponsors.

“Still wouldn’t trade it for those first months when she was a newborn, though.” Pursing his mouth thin, he rolled his lips inward with a hardened brow, releasing and scrunching tension around his nose as he shook his head slowly, addressing the memories of those days with a shine of pain to his eyes, and a loud smack of his tongue. “The moment I found out Adrie’s mom was pregnant, I wanted to do the right thing—y’know?” He took his hand off your leg to demonstrate the narrow path he followed. “Kept my head down, stayed focused, didn’t bother anybody, got a real job, and kept my mouth shut. Lotta places didn’t wanna hire me, obviously, but I applied anywhere I could, and when I got the job, I’d go get another one on a different shift, and another one on a graveyard shift. Sold whatever I had—guitars, ‘nd shit—bought what I could with the money. I wanted to be a good man. Be a provider. Be worth something.” Scrubbing his shaky fingers over the stubble on his chin, he aimed to calm himself, but when bringing up the Hell he went through during those times, there was little to stop his pitch from wavering. “Still wasn’t good enough.”

A verdict aimed at him flippantly, yet the impact on his self-esteem was immeasurable.

Gathering himself, he licked the inside of his cheek, and explained, “In the beginning, when Adrie was born, I tried to make it on my own. Locked in this little motel room with a crying baby. Couldn’t go to work. Didn’t have anyone to call to watch her for me, y’know, didn’t.. didn’t have anyone to rely on after walking out on my uncle, and isolating myself from my friends. The people at the bullshit resource center said I wasn’t eligible for benefits because they were for single moms, not dads. And child support was taking too long to kick in. Not like it mattered when it couldn’t pay for a single canister of Similac. I didn’t have fucking anything. Or know anything.”

His shame was only beginning to unravel.

“There were these free classes at a clinic for expecting parents, but I..” He dropped his knuckles to his thigh and fed them along the coarse cotton, using the friction to burn away the guilt. “I-I didn’t go. I didn’t want to go alone. Be the only guy there, by myself. Have all these people w-who might know who I am fucking.. fucking staring at me.” With how he was looking down at his lap, rocking slightly with his movement, he stood no chance against the wall of tears damming at his lashes. “I didn’t want to go because of my sense of pride, and my baby suffered because of it.”

“Eddie, that’s not true—” you stepped in.

Three effective beats of his fist on his leg, and you were left to witness his face crumple from the utter contempt he had for himself.

“It is true,” his volume fluctuated in jumps. “She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t fucking eat and keep it down.” Droplets splashed his jeans in unyielding splats. Drip, drop, drip, drop.. They slipped and spread in splotches of salty remorse he couldn’t wipe away quick enough. “Nothing worked. Couldn’t get her to latch onto a bottle, and, and—I didn’t know, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to microwave the formula, but she wouldn’t take it room temp, so if it was too hot she’d just scream at me until it wasn’t, and I–I just—I was having these breakdowns, I don’t know. I blacked out, and next thing I knew, I was at Harrington’s, and Nancy was taking care of her for me.” The emphasis alluded to much, though the fact their son was only a year older, and Nancy would still be producing milk said it all. 

Frantic breaths which wouldn’t catch were pulled past grimaced lips parted on the unrefined sob his confession emerged on. “I never wanted to be with Adrie’s mom, but proving what she said was right, th-that I was a fucking loser who didn’t know what he was doing, it-it-it.” In a desperate flourish, he pointed at his temple, It lives in here, and another tear clung to the tip of his nose, smeared by the back of his wrist.

Stunned useless by the suffocating urge to help him, you blanked. Sat still while your favorite mechanic reduced himself to the wrong opinion of others; the same person who showed his gentle nature by picking worms out of the garage after a heavy rain so they didn’t dry out. Remaining frozen while silent pain wracked your friend’s held breath, heaved and shuddered out as a cough into the same palm he used to catch your ankle when he challenged you to a race on the creepers, and he had to cheat to win before you beat him to the service door. Saying, “Baby, no,” to the man who snuck a smirk over his daughter’s head when he caught you doting over her as she sat on his hip, and the smell of Christmas potluck embedded itself into the memory of Eddie’s eyes hinting at a deeper glint than the tease on his grin.

“I am a fucking failure,” he seeped out his regret. “C-Couldn’t give her what she needed. I still can’t. Still can’t give her what she wants, ever. T-T-Tellin’ her I can’t get her something when she asks for it—and the disappointment. Just a piece of shit who disappoints her. Never good enough—” There was another high-pitched stutter, but it was muffled behind his trembling hands covering his face, and smothered by your intervention.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you shot out, hand and voice working together to untangle the trauma his knotted fingers attempted to hide. “Listen to me.” No please, but no lack of kindness, either. “You are not a disappointment. Not then, not now, not ever. Do you hear me? You’re not any of those things.” You tugged at the canvas jacket around his stiff arms tucked tight to his body, and rocked him away from his huddle against the door.

In the aftermath of your scramble to comfort him, Adrienne startled awake. Her soft hmm? became a grunty whine when the sensation of slipping backwards disoriented her. “Daddy?” One of her fists found your hoodie for balance, but her groggy curiosity dealt a heartbreaking blow.

She traced the wet trail on his cheek, encountered a tear in its path, and broke the droplet’s surface tension on her finger, wondering aloud, “Why’s Daddy crying?”

Thinking quickly, you used your muscles earned through unloading car parts from delivery trucks, and scooped her from your lap onto his, diverting the nuance of grown-up-problems by fumbling out, “Daddies cry sometimes, too. Have you told him you love him today? Can you tell him? It’ll make him feel better. Please, Miss Adrie?” Whether or not it was the perfect phrasing wasn’t important. What mattered was the unsuspecting gratitude laden at the base of his frown.

“I love you, Daddy,” Adrie said, latching her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“You’re a good man,” you added, and rolled onto your hip, fitting your body to his side. You nosed through his long, frazzly curls, and spoke earnestly, but softly into his ear, “You’re a good man, Eddie. Look at how well you take care of her. Look at how well fed, clothed, and happy she is. You make her so happy.. You make me happy, too. You’re the best dad I’ve ever met. No one else compares.”

He dragged a sniffle from his last sob into an unintelligible mumble.

“I’m here.” Shh. “I’m here.” You included Adrie in your hug as you brought your hand up to the other side of his flustered hot face, blending your fingers through the hair stuck to the sweat and stubble on his jaw. “We’re here for you. We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.” Sweet with conviction, “It’s okay, handsome, I’ve got you.”

Overwhelmed by the small I love you, Daddy, on one side, followed by You’re a good man, on the other, his inhale shivered, and he cuddled Adrie to him for a watery, “I love you, too.” Croaky and real, and mouth agape on an ugly cry he let you witness until his needy reach cupped the back of your head, and smushed you to his wet cheek, scratching the same sentiment into your nape, just like you were rubbing it into his scalp, exchanging the affection without words.

Us and Them funneled through the car, mellowing the heightened emotions with its dreamy saxophone opener.

“I’m so glad to have met you,” you prized in tender sweeps of whispers and thumbs. “I actually look forward to coming into work because of you, even when you hide my pen cup, and tickle me when I go to reach for it on top of the Coke machine. Which is unfair, by the way.”

“Yeah?” he asked for dear reassurance, and distraction.

Humming against the intimate corner of his jaw, you nudged the prickly scruff, and melted into his uncoordinated pets over your ear. “I see your sacrifices, and trust me, Eddie, you’re doing a great job at raising your daughter. Stuff like buying her toys, or cookies, or whatever doesn’t matter. The love you show her is better than any of that. She’s so lucky to have you.”

Another tear dropped to the tattered quilt. Another, another dropped. He squeezed his eyes shut and more fell. Hindered breaths let go in stuttered huffs shook his chest, swayed his damp hair. You circled your thumb over the rivers on his sensitive skin, and found a dry section of your sleeve to clean the price he paid for being a good father without the proper support he needed. Soothing him with fond shushes and feather touches. Forming a ball of comfort around him: cramped in the tiny car, a cast of solid fog on the windows for privacy, Adrie’s blanket draped about your jumbled legs, and her lanky arms wrapped around his neck where precious words were stoked from the embers of a fire which he built. “I wanna color with you to-mah-rrow,” she pronounced. “You can have the dinosaur book, because I want the kitty cats. Deal?” Deal, he nodded.

Your bottom lip introduced a blessing at his sideburn, “You deserve to see yourself how we see you.”

Recovering from the unbearable throb his stuffed sinuses drove to his headache, he tried—“Thank you, baby,”—though the letters were mashed together, and further pulped by the thickness in his throat. Loud, however, was his hug. Crushing you both to him with honed strength; flexed forearms demonstrating the power lying dormant in the track of muscle he snaked around your waist. Groans were earned from his expertise. Bones protested the gesture, begging to be released. It took several seconds of your heartbeat pumping visibly at the edge of your vision, but he let go. Afterall, there was no praise to be had by flattened lungs.

“That hurt,” Adrie complained.

“Ow,” you agreed.

“Sorry,” he said in non-apology.

At a change in tone, you fawned, “But that was a nice hug.”

Adrie rated it, “An 8 out of 10.”

Crowded together, the bond was unmatched. His arms were spread like a greedy dragon hoarding its wealth. Chest open, collecting his most remarkable treasures to the roaring furnace locked within the confines of his body, ready to share the warmth to those who could appreciate its value. Clasped in your hand was Adrie’s ankle, gaining squirmy kicks for each smile and giggle traded under Eddie’s chin. Dressed in his well-loved hoodie, the crook of his elbow fit to your figure, and the backs of his fingers strummed your bicep in a trained motion. None of it was perfect, no. The hoodie could smell less like cigarettes, his forearm stuffed behind you meant you couldn’t recline comfortably, and when he patted your hip, he awakened the dull throb of the bruising grip he left during earlier events.

Those weren’t bad things, though. They were as real as human flaws. Accepted as such, too.

“Are you feeling better?”

Sporting a grin favoring one cheek more than the other, Eddie’s eyes were framed by clumped together lashes after being stripped to his barest self and given the grace he needed. “Yeah,” he answered Adrie in fondness, “I’m feeling better now.” Not forever. He wasn’t cured. But with time, he guided his gaze to the velcro shoe you were wiggling back and forth onto her heel, and climbed his soft study up to the plump concentration on your bottom lip after you released it from between your teeth.

Perceiving his attention, you clocked him with a sneaky grin. “We’re a sardine family.” Brightening at the bewildered noise he made, you tapped Adrie’s knee, and imparted your wisdom as if he should know it too. “Yeah, you know, you, me, and Adrie. Jammed packed back here like a tin of sardines. All squished together.”

They blinked at you. You blinked back.

“And I thought I was supposed to be the one with bad jokes,” Eddie offered after some thought. You cut him a look. “But I like the image,” he amended.

“I like sardines,” Adrie chimed. She didn’t know what sardines were, but you appreciated her enthusiasm.

The conversation waned from there. Drowsiness from the old night seeped into your collective huddle, slouching you all towards one another. Heavy limbs went boneless. Tender brushes of thumbs came to an end. The sound of deep breaths were heard between the local ads for Indiana’s finest antique mall and an uptick in the rain smacking the paved street. Near the edge of sleep, you convinced yourself to get Adrie up and into her carseat. Eddie sat back and watched you go through the steps of buckling her in, listening to her plea for Fluff in her backpack, tucking the quilt around her just right, and hitting your head on the roof in pursuit of making her happy. Taking care of his kid. You collapsed beside him, far closer than would be proper for coworkers, and basked in his approval, noting the pride in his charged gaze. The emotional rollercoaster of the evening took its toll on his swollen face—nevertheless, romance novels could learn a thing or two from the way his stare rendered you weak.

“Should get you home before the storm gets worse,” he warned in an attractive thrum of sternness. He might call you lil’ lady next. Or remind you he promised your father he’d have you back on time.

Floating in the fizzy pool of your crush's attention, you nodded your dizzy head, and observed without need, “Yeah, should get home before it gets worse.”

He laughed. You swam in his laugh, in the instinctual desire based in his mood after watching someone nurture his young. A silly thing to rock you into a sultry sweat considering the outcome of your second date. Luckily, when you stepped out of the car, the frigid mist stole your focus, hosing you down and keeping you from reading too much into the odd chemical imbalance that must be happening in your brain.

The night was really fucking long.

Driving with the radio on low, Eddie drifted his ringed fingers over your forearm whenever they weren’t being used on the stick shift. A small gesture letting you know he was thinking about you when there wasn’t anything to talk about, not that it was needed. The calm was nice. The storm behaved en route to the Buckley’s, avoiding the occasional tree limb blocking a lane. He removed his touch from your person, and with a glance, you were assured it wasn’t the last.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my door,” you gasped, posing with your arms stuck out, useless against mother nature sagging your soaked clothes.

A puddle formed on the wood planks where he wrung his hair. “And make you do this run all by yourself? C’mon, sweet stuff. I’m a gentleman.”

Shivering on the covered porch, your shoes were partially to blame for the slipping incident(s) in the muddy driveway. The lack of the house lights on was another, slowing down your sprint into a crawl. A yellow cast from a lamp in the back room lit the hallway, but other than its soft glow, that was it. Clearly, no one expected you to come home.

“Is it okay if, uh,” you began, “Is it okay if we kiss in front of Adrie?” Oh, how your awkward pointing from yourself to the car came to a charming halt, fingers caught in the stiff fabric of his jacket, under his spell.

Plush pink lips warmed by vented heat promised your worries away.

“I think she’s asleep anyway.” His voice was playful, tugging syllables in the way his lopsided grin ought. “But,” he softened, “yeah, we can kiss in front of her.”

The permission washed over you. Weeks and months in the making. Brewing tension under the surface in your daily interactions—and now? You kissed him. Just for fun, just to show off. You kissed him again. Gentle, pretty brushes. Tame, refined, and for the sake of exploring the lack of boundary before saying goodbye.

Working man arms defined your waist.

Fingers calloused from gripping pens grazed his steady throat.

He swallowed, and spoke endearments with his busy mouth, “Could kiss you all day, baby.” Your lips kicked into a smile which he devoured, kiss after kiss. Neat little things. Virtues, maybe.

“Could’ve kissed me since the day we met,” you answered, feeling the squeeze around your back when his belly pressed you into his embrace. Though, his dismissive snort caused you to frown. “I’m serious. Coulda had me back then. Or at least you could’ve kissed me when we were slow dancing in the garage, or standing under the mistletoe at the Christmas party. Like, seriously, way to make me feel rejected.”

His wide passionate eyes shared common ground with his genuine smirk at your feigned agony. “Excuse you, but I am not having our first kiss be at work.”

“Then why not at DND when everyone left?”

“Because, sweetheart,“ his cadence loved those two words most of all, “I knew I only had a few minutes with you. And I needed a helluva lot more than a few minutes with you.”

“Or, what about when—”

Crazy how you strove to be silenced by his mouth. Craved it like no other, provoking him into eager unions, fulfilling the itch and providing the scratch with your bottom lip between his, just how he liked.

You shifted. Your inner thighs rubbed through your ripped tights. The untimely circumstances bringing you to Robin’s door lived on the surface of your chilly skin; ushering you to reality, and he as well.

“I’m sorry for how all this turned out.” Eddie’s sincere apology pitched his voice to something sorrowful, something deeper, and maybe you underestimated how much the night ending when it did upset him as a man.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

He shuffled his stance, scraping his boots in dissatisfaction. “Baby, you didn’t even get anything,” and you knew what he meant. And it annoyed you he’d even brought it up.

Combing your fingers up from his nape through his hair, you drove him into you, chasing the molten ooze pooling at your center in effort to shut him up. Wet, hard, nipping kisses at his plump lips until they were raw like his tear-stained cheeks. You forwent air. Mouths melding as one, then apart as two, then one, then a set of awake eyes boring into his drunk ones. “Our date was perfect. We needed this.” The trust, the experience, the uncomfortable glimpse into his life and how you handled it. His breakdown, his shame, his face when he finally let go and ugly cried in front of you. “I don’t regret how our night turned out.”

Nodding into a nudge of his nose stroking the side of yours, he was honest with himself, “I don’t regret it, either.”

“Well, you might regret it in the next half-hour if this storm keeps up, and you’re stranded with Adrie in the car because a tree fell across the road.”

“Shit.” Indeed, the weather was turning again. If luck were on his side, he could deal with the high winds and sheets of rain until he got home, but, more likely, he drained his luck over the course of the date, and lightning was about to start again.

Eyeing the sky with hesitance, he asked, “Can I call you tomorrow? Or—today?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.” Acting as an endorsement to get going before things worsened, thick forest branches creaked in the distance, popping like warnings. You followed it with snappier affections doled between your palms fitted to his jaw. “Please be safe, Eddie.”

“I will, I will. Kay?” Urgency swept him from kiss to kiss—needy, and intense, treating them as the last. “I adore you, baby. Tell me you adore me.”

Mushy under his tender affirmations, your body went pliant and he accepted your weighty lean on his chest, making it harder than it already was for him to leave his sweetheart behind. “—dore you too, handsome,” you moaned into his mouth, sending him off on a proper goodbye.

“Jesus Christ, woman.”

Ever the lovestruck fool, he stayed rooted on the porch watching your figure move from shadow to light within the home, eyes glued to sways and curves as you met the hallway and bent to peep inside Robin’s room. It was the single lamp being turned off which broke his greedy gaze, and ended his fun. Oh well. His Monday morning was booked with penciled in meetings for his admiration and your assets.

Eddie spun on his heel and stopped stalling. He didn’t bother throwing his arms over his head, he accepted his fate, and ran. Sloshing through puddles, slipping in mud. He wrenched open the door, and fell inside the car. The heater made him sticky warm in the gross way, so he turned it down, and got comfortable behind the wheel, adjusting, adjusting.

Pulling oxygen into his outkissed lungs, he heaved a solid breath, and sank into his seat, unable to comprehend the recent events carving out a new path for him to consider where there wasn’t one before.

——Then——

In the beginning…

Summer died to autumn, and it was time to move on from Steve's. Eddie tried to make it on his own in the motel room over the three day weekend break from work, but his wallet was empty, his baby was dressed in another family's blue sailboat onesie, and come Tuesday morning at 7AM, he needed someone to watch Adrie who wasn't an overworked Nancy Harrington.

Infant in hand, pride left behind in his boyhood, Eddie knocked on his uncle's door, and in Wayne's usual manner, he answered by clearing his throat when neither words nor greetings failed to repair the strained relationship.

“Can I live with you?”

Taking in the marks of fatigue under his nephew's averted eyes, Wayne said, “Of course, son,” and welcomed him inside with a swung gesture.

The walk to the single bedroom humbled what spirit Eddie had remaining. Or, crushed what was left of it. He passed by the kitchen table which still had his chair cocked out, noticed the patched-up hole in the closet door, and flicked on the lightswitch, grazing the curled edge of a poster he hung over a decade ago. His stomach sank at the familiarity.

Blazed by the ornate lamp hung in the corner, standing out like a behemoth beside his white desk, was the crib he was never able to afford.

Adrie grunted awake in her carseat. Looking down at her would spill his tears, so he cranked his head back to stare at the ceiling, steeling himself after spotting the new bedsheets stretched across his mattress, and he knew—he knew—if he turned around, the pullout bed in the living room would still be set up.

His uncle never took his room back.

Defeated by the routine pang of worthlessness, impressed to have any self-esteem left to be stolen from him at the point, Eddie sank to his childhood mattress with his three-month-old daughter at his feet, undressed himself from his boots, and made a clear spot for them both on the bed, away from blankets or pillows. He laid on his side, legs crossed and knees bent with an arm beneath his head. Same position he assumed on the motel’s carpeted floor yesterday when Adrie experienced a milestone: rolling over. Not from her back to her stomach, she wasn’t coordinated enough for that yet, but with enough powerful kicks and wiggling, his paranoia coaxed his other arm around her.

He molded himself to be her protector. Chest sunken on a shallow breath, forearm spooned to her side closest to the edge, and gaze trained on her chubby cheek. Her babbly noise of happiness brought him a sense of reward, and though the newborn smell had faded in the weeks where motor oil stung his nostrils, he put his nose to the top of her head for a whiff of a sweet scent that wasn’t there, and felt the peace it brought him anyway.

Wayne shuffled into the room with a sizable stack of chunky hardcover books between his hands. “I, uh, checked these out from the library. Been doin’ some readin’ while you were gone.” He set them down on the bedside table, and pointed at a few of them. “Learned a lot from the one on the bottom, but they were all, ah, educational, I s’pose.. Some lean more religious than others,” he grumbled. “But, uhm..”

The expectant pause in his uncle’s speech drew Eddie’s awareness.

“Can I hold her?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah.” He almost had the strength to clear the rasp from his throat. “You can hold her.”

Putting his new knowledge to good use, Wayne first worked his palm under Adrie’s head before scooping her into his folded arms. Eddie took his shame in small doses, glancing at his uncle meeting his grandchild for the first time, and looking away when he cooed over her. Three months and his only family member had yet to meet his baby. Three months spent avoiding this trailer, and depriving his uncle from making these memories.

Self-loathing boiled under Eddie’s skin, and still, there was a fleeting desire to brag about Adrie’s neck strength, and how it wasn’t so necessary to be wary of her head falling back.

But he stayed quiet. He pushed his overgrown bangs out of his eyes, and read the book’s titles, wondering what sparked enough interest for Wayne to stuff receipts between the pages, or mark them with paper clips if they were particularly interesting.

Speaking in his gruff smoker’s voice with an edge of seldom heard unease, Wayne introduced a conversation, “I read in that yellow book there that babies shouldn’t sleep in the same bed as the parent. Dangerous, with how tired you are, ‘nd all. Should I put her in the crib?”

As gingerly and delicately as one could be when discussing the reality of a child suffocating to a parent who was well aware of the risks, Eddie regarded him with an annoyed expression, and Wayne shut his mouth in apology.

“I’ve gotta do her night routine again, so I’ll be up for a bit.”

“Yep.” A solid statement, and conclusion, to the conversation.

Bending down, Wayne positioned Adrie in the hollow Eddie created for her, and mentioned there were leftovers in the fridge on his way out. He shut the door behind him. It didn’t take long for tiny fists and tinier fingers to find a lock of his hair, and pull it into a drooly mouth. Didn’t take long, either, for his exhaustion to kick in and for the emotions to crash through his walls.

Tears slipped sideways along his features. Cresting over the bridge of his nose, colliding with his other eye, and joining the wetness at his hairline, dotting the bedsheet. He pressed his face to his baby who was too innocent for this world. “Daddy loves you,” he whispered, tasting the word for the first time. Daddy. It didn’t feel right when Steve stepped in as a father figure, but he could acknowledge it now. He was a dad. A momentous occasion followed by, “I’m so sorry you’re mine.” An apology uttered on a wet hiccup—borderline unintelligible—but after coming back to this trailer, and enduring his memories trapped between its thin walls, he promised, words slurring to a constricted squeak in his throat, “Daddy’s gonna get us a nice house, okay? Your own room. Your own bed. Daddy’s gonna do it. Just give me some time, okay? I’ll do it, I swear. Daddy loves you so much. So fucking much.” The promises bred dread even then, living in the pit of his stomach as future disappointments, knowing he would fail.

Perhaps sensing his distress, his little girl used the last of her energy to kick his arm in a fair warning before her face scrunched, and the wet coughs preluding her wail for food began.

He dried his face on the bedsheet. In this moment, it was hard to continue crying when he had another human relying on him. It was time to move on. Time to bury the pain, and move on. Time to neglect himself, and move on. Time to give up, and move on. Kiss her chubby cheeks so fucking much he feared he’d never be able to stop, and move on.

——Now——

Now, he checked the rearview mirror and Adrie was looking back at him, possessing a curious pinch between her brows at his reflection.

“You were kissing Miss Mouse,” she accused and questioned.

“I was,” he confirmed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, ah,” he filled the pause with another ah while he searched, “It means we’ll be seeing more of each other. She’ll be coming around more, and stuff. Hanging out with us.”

Ever ponderous, ever candid, ever blunt, she asked, “Does that mean she’s my–”

Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasted their eardrums.

Eddie’s fingers slipped over the volume dial by accident—totally by accident—as he reached for the stick shift, turning the music on high and drowning out the last word of her sentence.

—Mom.

No way in hell was he ready for that conversation after the emotionally grueling night he’d had.

“Whoops,” he pretended, “Sorry, couldn’t hear you—but, uh! Hey, do you wanna start our bedtime story early? Should I go with the princess one, or the Sesame Street gang running their own bakery? Hmm.." He drew out his hum until he was in the clear of the Buckley's mailbox, swearing he wasn't the reason it was laying flat in a ditch. "How about we pick up where the princess one left off? So! The firbolgs have declared alliances with Toadstool Kingdom, and.." Throwing it into first gear, Eddie raced home as quickly, but responsibly, as possible, talking non-stop. His parched throat begged for a drink by the time he pulled into the trailer park—a scratchy pain made worse by his nervous chatter in the elusive quiet of his parked car.

He wrapped Adrie in her quilt as best he could while securing her on his hip and booked it through the rain, unlocking the front door and ducking inside right as an unlucky flash of lightning came.

And when nature’s nightlight died, he blinked and blinked at the spots in his vision.

It was unfathomably dark in his living room.

Stumbling over a small shoe in his way, he patted the wall for the lightswitch, and flipped it. And flipped it again. And harassed it some more. Sighing heavily in defeat, he grabbed the giant flashlight on the kitchen counter, and lit the way. "Looks like we're camping tonight." (Their codeword for when the power was knocked out.)

"Okie dokie," she said, ignorant to the cruel world of no pancakes for Sunday breakfast when the electric stovetop was out of commission.

In the meantime, he got them both ready for bed with the added pain of doing it by a single wobbly light source, ready to pass out the second his body sank to the mattress and his head hit the flat pillow—

But of course, Adrie rocked his shoulder incessantly, goading him into giving her attention at her whim, sanity be damned. "Mm?" he grunted, coating the noise in mild annoyance.

"Daddy?" she checked.

The wait for her question grew excruciatingly long.

He almost wasted an eye roll. "Yes, my child?"

"I wish Miss Mouse was here."

Surprised more so by his yawn than the request itself—and then surprised again when his heartbeat remained calm when confronted with the reality of Adrie noticing too much—he struggled to stay awake in his best interest, perhaps giving an inappropriate answer, and unwittingly feeding into her inner wishes, "I do too." He was fading, and quick. The hard rain had returned, droning white noise on the roof, soothing his eyelids closed over the dry sting they drew. Rolling, fighting the stiff sheets tucked around them both, he threw an arm over her before the doom-roll of thunder came. Sweet dreams greeted him in a pair of tiny arms folded to his chest. Brain shutting down. Night, night. Asleep.

"I wish she was my mom."

"Goodnight, Adrie," he stressed.

[forsworned]

CASUAL ft. FWB!JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH

Warnings: Sexual Content, AFAB!Reader, FWB, Angst to Comfort

Author's note: Because Soap brainrot, that's all

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out Is it casual now?

The death grip you have on his mohawk as he sloppily eats you out with such vigor is making your legs shake so hard as you climax for the third time in the backseat of his truck. A gentle slap and a tender kiss to your clit after he's done supping you up and then he's adjusting himself in his trousers to make himself a little more comfortable under the restricting material.

"I gotta go now." He breathes, rubbing your bare thigh and you shiver at his touch. He always had to go. And honestly you could feel your heart dropping to your stomach as he flashes you that casual, boyish grin.

You only nod as you recollect yourselves and climb back to the front seats. Your heart on your sleeve as he pulls at your place and you're turning to him with a bashful smile. His baby blue are distant but he gives you a warm, good-natured grin as he rubs your thigh.

"Good seein' ya, lassie." He points his chin to the door as a gesture for you to hit the road in the most "polite" way possible.

You were no stranger to Johnny's detached ways. He was an avoidant at best when got his and he was sending you on your way to do whatever it is that you do before he hits you up again with a, "You up?" text.

Ugh.

"Dude, you deserve better." Your friend shakes her head at you as she pinches at a fry and pops it into her mouth.

"Honestly, he's a fucking asshole. He should be on his knees asking to be your man, not just the backseat of his truck." Your other friend chides, but it's lost on you. Their voices drown out as you peer over at your buzzing phone.

"You free tonite, lassie?"

"Don't" They quip at the same time, but it's tossed to the backlogs of your mind when you rush home after your hang out.

He's already there leaning against your doorway, swinging his car keys between his fingers as he lustfully gazes down at you. And in no time he's jovially, hungrily taking your face between his stout, calloused hands and kissing you passionately, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinds into you. And you can't take it anymore, you want him. You want him so fucking bad and you didn't care if it was casual. Or whatever bullshit, avoidant bullshit he was feeding you.

You wanted him, craved him. You waste no time pulling aside your panties as he merely unzips his jeans to free his hard, girthy cock and presses it between your succulent, dripping folds, and his thick brows are furrowed together in euphoria. He casts a small glance down at you to make sure you're all right as he pushes himself deeper into you. It's a pleasant burn as he stretches you out, and you welcome it because fuck, it feels so fucking good when he's filling you up, but when he's done emptying himself out you're hollow once again as he's zipping his jeans back up.

He adjusts his brown leather jacket and gives you a wink and kiss to the cheek before he's on his way out.

And you almost feel like crying when he's gone. Just the remnants of his cologne and splooge still left on your linen sheets.

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?

And then you're at the grocery store, picking out what bouquet would be the prettiest as your centerpiece, and feel a pair of arms wrap around you, a steady kiss to the cheek, and a rumbling Scottish accent in your ear, "Hey, sexy."

You visibly melt at his touch and he loves the way you're wrapped around his finger. Addicted to how pliant you are for him in every conceivable way.

"Ey, Johnny, ye gonna introduce me?"

And you both freeze at the voice. An awkward laugh escapes his chest as he's moving away from you and see a woman who adorns strikingly similar features to him.

"Ma, this is..."

"[name]." You smile that glorious smile of yours and for a second it's got Johnny kinda dazed. He's blinking out of his stupor, but something about the way you shake his moms hand and so effortlessly talk to her stirs something in him. A side he's never bothered to explore because he was waaaay too busy exploring your insides.

"Ye should come t' our house in Long Beach. We're havin' a wee, friendly get-together. Bring a pal, even." Her accent is thicker and even less coherent to your ears than Johnny's is so it takes you a second to decode what she's saying. And suddenly your face lights up and--uh, oh, Johnny's in trouble now.

Because she's smacking him across the head with her rolled-up wad of weekly ads that she picked up from the market and scolding him for not telling her about you.

"Aye, Johnny, I knew what ye're up to. She's a braw lassie. Get yerself sorted!" She spews as he opens the passenger seat door for her, rubbing the back of his head. You almost feel bad for him as you watch him get reprimanded by his mother from your car. But it's almost a little too embarrassing that you could tell what the conversation was about.

And he's trying his best not to be a dickhead when you do actually show up at the party, but you're lighting the room up with every step as you're being engaged and thrown into a cacophony of banter and laughter. And you're actually so fucking funny? Like, really funny, like he's keeling over and clutching his stomach funny and it's not just because of the persistent buzz of his ale.

You're witty and sexy and downright fucking gorgeous, especially when the sea breeze picks up and sends your hair back a little and it's like a slo-mo in those romcoms Johnny was forced by his mother to watch when he was growing up. And how could he forget about how gentle you were when you're speaking to the wee ones. Weaving wildflower crowns and plaiting hair as you coo at them so maternally. And the cheeky little grins you would have on your face as you whisper little nonsensicals to them, and melodious giggles that follow.

Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck.

Is it casual now? I know what you tell your friends

But then you're heaving after your second orgasm, he's still pounding away at you and there's a different look in his eyes as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. He's overstimulating your clit and telling you what a sweet girl you are for him and that sends you over the edge and he's pulling out to cum all over your belly in hot white spurts.

Another kiss to your forehead before he gets up to what you think is him getting a towel to clean you up but he's lifting you over his shoulder in one swift movement and you're giggling all the way over to the shower. And then there's another round of deep, thrusting into your a-spot against the cold shower tiles until you're rolling your eyes back and begging for him to let you cum.

And that release is something else and he's smiling at you with his teeth latched between his lips, soaked dark lashes that frame his pretty cerulean blue eyes that send you into a trance. Honestly, heart eyes motherfucker because that's exactly how you would describe yourself in that moment as you gaze at him. He's just too damn pretty for words.

And how gentle he is when he's helping you clean off, but his presence is stripped too quickly for your liking. He's toweling himself down and grabbing his boxers as he puts his clothes back on, and you can only stand there studying him from the shower. He's leaving again and your heart was sinking.

But then you're hearing his voice, and you peep you head out just a bit to catch the conversation.

"Girlfriend?" He laughs, "not even close, mate."

And you could almost just disappear down the drain. You felt humiliated as you swamp out the rest of the exchange under the din of the hot water hitting your eardrums.

"She's mare like wifey material." He chuckles, thumbing through his camera roll in the little album he's titled, "Bonnie <3".

It's pictures he's collected over the past year of the both of you, some candid, (a lot) some in bed, and a ton from the night at the beach house. You were truly so beautiful and Johnny was getting caught up in you and he was no longer fighting it.

And I try to be the chill girl That holds her tongue and gives you space

But you're getting fed up when you're in the middle of movie night and Johnny decides it's the best idea to watch Good Will Hunting. And it's the scene where Will and Skylar are breaking up and it's tearing you up inside when you see Johnny get a bit misty-eyed. You can't help yourself. You reach for the remote and pause it before, turning to him with anger and frustration in your eyes. And he's reaching out for you to calm you down with a flummoxed gaze, but you're refusing his touch and comfort.

And Johnny is sent home with his tail between his legs, speeding down the highway as he blasts Johnny Cash and attempts to suppress the earlier occurrence. It's unpleasant. The feeling that's settling into his chest and it feels tight.

He pumps the brakes. Hard.

And he's reversing in the middle of an intersection, cars are honking, people yapping at him but it's white noise as he's racing back to your place.

And with his heart in his hand, he's thumping urgently at your door and it feels like a millennia before you're opening it.

Tear-stained blood-shot eyes, disheveled hair in his Scotland flag embroidered hoodie he misplaced a month ago. He stares at your sniffling, crumpled form. Oh, how could he have done this to such a beautiful woman?

"I was lookin everywhere fer that hoodie." He says softly. His eyes are glossy as he blinks down at you, half smile and all.

You peer at the hoodie and then up at him. "What do you want? The hoodie? Here."

You begin to take it off but he's shaking his head and pulling it back down especially when he realizes you have nothing on underneath and he would be baring you out to the world. He heaves himself inside and you're scrambling against his arms, trying to push him out but of course, Johnny outsizes you by way too much to even make him move. He's holding you by the waist, leaning his forehead against yours as he dabs at the tears in the corner of your eyes.

"Y're so beautiful, [name]." He murmurs.

You're watery eyes, ream at his words. He had never said that to you before and your heartstrings are being pulled in every direction.

"What...?"

He kisses your cheek so tenderly and you feel like your ascending, "I said, y're beautiful, [name]. 'n' I wish I told ye that earlier."

You gaze down at his shoes not wanting to meet his eyes but he lifts your chin and meets your lips with the softest kiss he's ever bestowed upon you. It was so chaste yet so ardent and it made your heart skip a beat.

"I don't understand." Your thoughts are racing at this point and he can see it in your eyes. How absolutely head over heels you are for him and he was too much of a dickhead to really acknowledge it, how utterly striking you were, how perfectly imperfect you were. Going out of your way for him and fuck, he did not deserve it. Not then and maybe not even now, but realizing what a catch he has in his literal palms, he doesn't want to let go. And he will do anything to make up for it.

"'m sorry, hen. Never should have treated like ye were rubbish. Ye should be cherished 'n' protected." He brushes the hair out of your face and it is a painful revelation standing there in front of you with his heart on display and he's wondering how you were so brave to be doing it baring it out for him every time. And still, he would reject it like the bastard he was. Refusing to let you in when all you wanted was to be preserved, served, and loved.

"Johnny, I--" You croak out, tears cascading down your cheeks and you're looking back down at the ground, but he gently cups your cheeks.

"No, I love you, [name]. An' if ye let me, 'll do everythin' an' anythin' to make it up to ye. Ye were always there f'r me, an' it's about time I return it."

He shakes his head, wiping away his eyes. "Damn, 'm pure shite at this, but I hope ye can forgive me."

But as warm as your heart was, you have to stand firm. Johnny had hurt you in so many ways so, it wasn't going to be easy for you to just say yes. "You really hurt me, Johnny..."

"I know, I know, but 'm a man of action an' 'll do anythin'." He's pleading and to say that it isn't satisfying as fuck to see this beautiful, brawny man that you've been fucking for the past year groveling for you, was simply a lie.

"Ye gettin' off to this?" A smile graces his lips and you try to hold back, but you can't help but smile back at him.

Everything is so infectious about Johnny and it kills you.

"Fuck you." You breathe out, running a hand through your hair.

And he can't help but attack you with kisses and lift you up before crushing you under his weight as he lays you out on your mattress. Giggling like a maniac you remember to compose yourself even if it felt like the surface was breaching. There's a pause and you're both gazing into each other's eyes as you intertwine fingers, and Johnny is kissing you again, but it's different. It's really full of love and admiration.

He sighs in content for a moment before withdrawing and peers down at you. "S'what d'ya say? Gimme a chance?"

You cock a brow and smile at him. "You really are in no position to ask me."

"But..." "I'll sleep on it."

He's beaming at you now and you're totally getting flustered under his gaze. He wasn't going to let you slip away this go around.

"Deal."

[lovecanyon]

Inside Y/N L/N’s Bag | Vogue | Dad!H

MASTERLIST | PATREON

“Hi Vogue I am Y/N L/N and this is what’s in my bag.”

After she introduces herself, Y/N looks down at the bag in her lap. The bag she had used every single day was a personalized Pleasing mesh bag. It was a light pink color and had a blue ribbon tied onto one of the straps.

It was clear that it meant a lot to her.

“What I carry with me everyday is this.” She says grabbing onto her bag. “You can fit anything in here. And the thing about this is, it’s technically Inez’s diaper bag.”

Y/N then grins at the memory of Harry gifting her the tote.

“This specific bag was gifted to me by my husband a while ago, right before he had launched Pleasing. My son actually loves this bag and has one of his own but smaller. He doesn't go anywhere without it.” Y/N shares.

Setting her carrier onto the wooden coffee table in front of her, the Styles woman reaches into her bag and pulls out a bag of candy. Beau's favorite type.

Y/N remembers the night when Harry had got their son addicted to the chocolate minstrels.

“My son is obsessed with these and when I saw them I had to get them for him.” She laughs. “I spoil my kids way too much.”

The next thing Y/N pulled out was her phone. Just a plain iPhone 14 with a case that she had stolen from Harry or borrowed it, so she said. Once she taps on the screen her face lights up.

Her lock screen was a photo of a newborn Inez sleeping on Harry’s chest with Beau right beside them.

She almost shed a tear.

“This is my phone, nothing special until you look at the lock screen.” Y/N grins. She loved her family so deeply.

After placing her phone onto the table, she slides her hand into her carrier pulling out a blue bandanna. It previously belonged to Harry until Inez came around and slid the bandanna off of her father’s head.

It was truly her favorite thing in the world. You could say it was sort of like a safety blanket for her.

“Harry’s bandanna or should I say Inez’s bandanna. That girl loves this thing so much.”

-

A small bag of diapers, bibs, toy trucks, hair clips that she had stole back from Harry, kids sunscreen, Love on Tour’s backstage/V.I.P passes, bandaids, Harry’s headphones, her family’s passports and a camera

“Since we’re currently on tour and always traveling I always have to carry my children’s essentials.” Y/N explains looking at all the items laid out in front of her. “You can never be unprepared.”

Just five years ago her bag was filled with very different items than now. She was now a mother and had a family with a man she’s always wanted to grow old with.

Two kids later and she’s become a changed woman, a better one. She’s always valued the life she had, especially right now. Y/N couldn't have been more happy.

“Another toy!” Y/N laughs, pulling out another toy from her bag. “A mini statue of our dog Kendall who was actually named after Kendall Roy from Succession since Harry is obsessed with that show.” She holds out a miniature dog in her palm.

Following the toy, she slides out a pair of rings that clearly belonged to Harry Styles since they were his initials.

Y/N leans forward and slips the rings into her back pocket. She remembers the last time Harry had lost jewelry. It was at Coachella and he went insane looking for them.

“We are not losing any more rings.”

Comments:

harryfan2 WHEN WAS THEIR WEDDING OMFG?????

harryfan10 best mother in the world truly

harryfan4 harry’s love for succession has me rolling 😭😭

harryfan8 this. is. what. we. needed.

harryfan13 THE LOCK SCREEN

harryfan7 i cannot stress how much i love this video

harryfan5 the literal girl version of harry

harryfan9 harry is finally y/n’s husband 🧎‍♂️

harryfan11 i’m literally crying

-

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia

[once-upon-an-imagine]

I’d love a request where the reader is Bobbys daughter and dating Buck. It’s a hot day and the reader has gone to the firehouse to see everyone but she ends up feeling unwell because of the heat and Buck looks after her.

hello, love! ahh thank you so much for this request! and thanks to everyone who voted! it's my first time writing for Buck so I hope you like it! also, I'm not sure why, I swear I read somewhere that Bobby didn't know they were dating so that's kind of the course this took, so I hope that's okay! Warnings: reader faints because of the heat; I think that’s it, but always let me know if I missed anything Disclaimer: I don’t own 9-1-1 😊 gif isn’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Heatwave

"Okay, how does this look?" you asked, placing the lasagna in the middle of the table. Buck had texted you that the team was on their way back so you needed to hurry up.

"For the third time, honey, yes. It looks good" Athena said as she brought the bread with her and you went over to finish the salad you were making. You had learned a thing or two from your father and you started to actually enjoy cooking. It brought the two of you together after you lost the rest of your family, and it usually helped calm you down, but not today. "Look, I know you're nervous about telling your dad about you and Buck, but you need to breathe and relax" she said, walking closer to you.

You had been seeing Buck for a long time now. At first, you didn't want to tell your dad, mostly because you weren't even sure if the two of you were serious. Then, it got serious quickly and the two of you agreed to tell your dad when you were both ready. So now, because the two of you wanted to move in together, you knew you had to tell him. So, here you were, cooking your father's favorite meal for lunch, and hoping to have your dad in a good mood for later tonight when you were going to finally tell him.

"I know, I know" you said to Athena, who had kindly volunteered to help you since it was her day off. "It's just... my dad has hated every single boyfriend I've had" you told her.

"Oh, I know. He's told me about all the insipid, idiot, good-for-nothings you've dated before" she said, making you widen your eyes at her. "His words not mine" she said, making you roll your eyes. "But he adores Buck, like his own son. I mean, they even went to a Bruce Springsteen concert together" she reminded you.

"Ugh, I know, nobody loves Springsteen as much as those two" you said, making Athena let out a chuckle. "Look, I know he loves Buck... as part of his team. I'm not sure if he's gonna love Buck as my boyfriend" you said, nervously.

"Of course he will. Because as much as he loves Buck, he loves you more than anything and anyone" she reminded you. "And he's going to see how happy he makes you" she smiled.

"You really think so?" you asked, smiling back.

"I really do" she nodded. It actually meant a lot to you what Athena thought too. You knew she didn't particularly like Buck at first, but she had mentioned to you how he's changed and how she sees that the two of you brought out the best in each other. "Looks like they're here" she said, when you saw the truck pulling into the station.

"Okay" you said, placing the salad on the table. "I think the bear claws are done" you said, wiping your hands on your apron, and went over to the oven.

"Really? You had to make his favorite dessert?" Athena said, rolling her eyes. "Aren't you trying a bit too hard?"

"Better safe than sorry" you smiled nervously.

"Hey, what's all this?" Hen asked, being the first one to get upstairs.

"Do I smell your dad's famous lasagna?" Chim was the next one to appear. "Please tell me I'm right" he smiled, seeing at the setup table.

"You are correct" you smiled.

"Oh, this is why you're my favorite Nash" he smiled.

"Hey! I heard that" you heard your father coming up. "This is a nice surprise" he smiled, looking at the two of you before he went over to his wife and gave her a kiss.

"Yeah-" Athena started before you interrupted her.

"It was Athena's idea" you quickly said. "I uh, just... tagged along to help with the cooking" you smiled as Buck and Eddie finally made it upstairs.

"Hey, little Nash" Eddie said, walking over to greet you. Aside from Athena, he was the only one who knew about the two of you. And Christopher.

"Well, I'm happy to see you" Bobby said, before walking over to you and kissing your head. "Both of you" he added. "This looks good, duck" he smiled as you rolled your eyes a little.

"Why is it that he calls you duck?" you heard Chimney ask when he was taking his seat.

"Why does he call you Chimney?" you smirked and he glared at you.

Your dad laughed and walked over to the table with Athena as he started telling Hen and Chim that he called you duck because you used to be a really grumpy kid and when you were a toddler, you sounded like Donald Duck whenever you argued with him about something.

"Hey" Buck said, walking closer to you as you walked to the oven. "How are you feeling?" he smiled.

"I'm... fine" you smiled wearily.

"You're a terrible liar" he chuckled.

"I know" you said, opening the oven and feeling the heat struck you. It was already extremely hot outside. This just made it ten times worse. "I'm just a little nervous" you said, getting back up, suddenly feeling dizzy, and making you drop the tray with bear claws a bit faster and louder than you intended on the counter, getting the attention of the four people on the table.

"Whoa" Buck said, worriedly, getting closer to you.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Eddie asked. "You're sweating a lot"

"Yeah, no I just... felt a bit light-headed" you said, placing your wrist on your forehead.

"Did you eat something today? Maybe you need to sit down" Buck said pulling you closer to him. "Look at me" he instructed.

"I'm fine, sweetheart-" you tried smiling before Buck saw your eyes roll over to the back of your head and you collapsed in front of him. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, preventing you from falling all the way to the ground.

"Bobby!" Buck yelled, even if Bobby was already rushing to you as Buck and Eddie carried you to the sofa.

"Chim! Hen! Get your bag!" Bobby ordered. "What happened?"

"I think it's the heat" Eddie said as Chimney came running back up with his bag, handing Hen what she needed.

"Did she eat anything at all today?" she questioned.

"Not while she was with me" Athena replied.

"She didn't have breakfast either" Buck said, feeling guilty. He was the main reason why you were late and didn't have breakfast.

"What? She didn't?" Bobby asked, confused. "Wait, how do you know that?"

"Um... she texted me?" Buck smiled, nervously as Eddie and Athena shared a look, thinking it was probably best to give everyone some space.

"You two... text each other?" Bobby asked as Chimney and Hen shared a different, confused look.

"Oh, I did not see this coming" Chim muttered to Hen.

"Seriously? You didn't?" she asked before going back to examining you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You slowly opened your eyes and realized you were at the 118 station and you had a cold cloth pressed against your forehead. You tried to sit up but Buck quickly ran over to you.

"Whoa, easy there, love" he said, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "Hi" he smiled sweetly at you, offering you a bottle of water. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit dumb, to be honest" you chuckled, accepting the water and taking a sip. "W-what happened?"

"You fainted" he reminded you. "Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me you hadn't eaten today?"

"I'm sorry" you frowned. "I didn't think it would be a big deal. I didn't have time to eat this morning and, then I went to work, and then I started cooking and I lost track of time and, I guess the heat didn't help" you said shyly.

"No, it didn't" your dad said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the sofa. "How are you feeling duck?"

"A bit better" you said.

"Well, it's a good thing your boyfriend is always alert and quick on his feet" he said, casually.

"Yeah, he- wait, what did you say?" you froze, realizing what he'd just say. "Did I hit my head?" you asked Buck. "Did my dad just call you my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, sweetheart" Buck smiled apologetically. "I know you had a whole thing planned tonight, but I let it slip that you didn't have breakfast today, and well... I kind of told him" he explained.

"Y-you did?" you asked, feeling a bit nauseous again. "Does he know we're moving in together?"

"What?!"

"He does now" Buck said with a tight-lipped smile.

"You're moving in together?" your dad asked.

"I uh-" you stuttered. "Y-yeah" you admitted. "W-we were going to tell you tonight at dinner" you insisted.

"Is that why you came to make my favorite lunch? So I'd be in a good mood?" he asked, knowing you too well.

"M-maybe?" you smiled. "A-are you mad?"

"No, honey. I'm not mad" he chuckled, pulling you closer and kissing your temple. "I don't love the fact that you hid it from me for so long" he added. "But I'm glad you're with someone who I know cares about you as much as I know Buck does" he smiled. "And, if I'm being honest, I kind of suspected it for a while" he said, surprising you.

"You did not" you glared at him.

"You both are terrible liars and I mean, you only make bear claws when you're giving me bad news" he smirked, making you roll your eyes.

"Wait, does that mean, I'm bad news?" Buck asked.

"What? N-no" you said unconvincingly. "I make them when I'm not sure how he will react" you insisted.

"Yeah" Bobby said. "To bad news" he repeated with a chuckle. I'm glad you're happy, duck" he told you.

"Thanks, dad" you smiled. "I really am" you told him.

"I'm gonna go get you something to eat, okay?" he said, getting up and kissing your head again. "Don't ever scare me like that again" he muttered before walking away.

"So, your dad knows about us" Buck smiled at you.

"Yeah, and it didn't go bad at all" you said, excitedly.

"Not bad at all? Sweetheart, do I need to remind you that you just fainted?"

"Well, yeah but... I mean aside from that" you pouted, making him smile at you before giving you a peck on the lips.

"You really scared me" he said, worriedly.

"I'm sorry, love" you insisted.

"You don't have to apologize" he said. "Especially since it was kind of my fault you didn't have breakfast" he said, blushing a little. "But now that we are going to live together, I will make sure you don't leave the house without eating first" he instructed, making you roll your eyes a little.

"Fine" you smiled before he leaned in for another kiss. "I love you" you told him.

"I love you too" he smiled.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: aahhh! I hope you loves liked it!

[lyjen]

Mistake

Summary: (Y/n) has been feeling not too well, she’s 18 weeks pregnant but still suffers from nausea. When they’re on shift they somehow get into a hostage situation and they use (y/n)’s nausea as a distraction.

9-1-1 masterlist

________

Evan opened his eyes and he turned onto his side, reaching out beside him. His arm searched for her warm body. When he found his wife, he pulled her closer to his body.

Evan plants a kiss on her shoulder, and continues kissing her until he reaches the crook of her neck. She groans at his touch, and lets her hand go through his curls.

“Goodmorning” she whispered as she kissed his temple. He mumbled a goodmorning back, barely audible because he was still merged into her skin.

“How are you feeling today?” Evan asked, while he removed his face from the crook of her neck.

Since last week (y/n) has been feeling nauseous, she is now 18 weeks pregnant, morning sickness could still happen at this time into pregnancy. So they had nothing to worry about, right?

“I’m fine, better than I felt yesterday” she answered. The day before she spent most of the time hanging with her face above the toilet. But this was actually the first night she was able to sleep through, without getting out of bed to go and throw everything she ate or drank back out.

“Are you sure you’re good to work this afternoon?” He asked while (y/n) turned around in his arms. Without any hesitation she nodded, and placed her hand on his chest. “You know Bobby would understand if you explained, right?”

Evan was worried (y/n) would do more than she could take. She was stubborn, but she knew her limits.

He let his hand slide down and rest on her stomach. “You want to talk to baby Buckley?” She smiled, she knew exactly what Evan wanted. Since they found out she is pregnant, Evan started talking to her belly, every single day. It was now a standard procedure, it didn’t matter to him if it was six in the morning or two at night. He had to talk to baby Buckley.

His hand rubbed up and down over her belly as she turned to lay on her back and sit up, so Evan’s face was in one line with her belly.

“Hello in there” he smiled as he looked up at his wife. Her hand was still stroking through his curly morning hair.

“This is your dad speaking” he softly let his hand rub over her stomach.

“I just wanted to say, be kind to your mom. Don't step on her intestines, mommy has to work and can’t feel sick.” he spoke as he pointed at her belly as a warning sign.

(Y/n) smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to her stomach. “I love you very, very much, but please stop making mommy so sick”

He pressed one last long kiss on her stomach as he pushed himself to the end of the bed. (Y/n) let out a squeal as Evan stood up, put his hands on her legs and pulled her towards him.

Evan let her legs dangle on the end of the bed as he took place between her legs. He put a strand of her morning hair behind her ear as he let both of his hands rest on her cheeks. He pressed a kiss on her lips.

“You would tell me if you weren’t feeling well, right?” He wanted her to know that it was okay to call in sick for a day.

She nodded. “Yes, I would.. But I’m fine, I swear.” her eyes connected with her husband's eyes.

She loved being a firefighter. Just like Eddie, she also could help on the ambulance whenever they needed her to. But her heart belonged to being on truck.

(Y/n) has been put on light duties, and whenever she couldn’t help with rescuing people from buildings or other heavy work, she would help Hen and Chimney out with the ambulance. Some calls she had to sit out, waiting back at the station while the rest of the team had all the fun.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid today during shift.” she spoke softly as she looked at her husband. Evan chuckled. “You know how I am. I can’t promise that.”

She playfully pushed his shoulder, so he almost lost his balance. "Okay! okay! I will try and think before I act.”

“That’s better”

A smile appeared on Evan’s face.“You know what would be even better?” She raised a brow at his words, not knowing his plan. But she knew this look he was giving her..

She felt him come closer, he kissed her once more, and he pushed her back into the mattress with his body. He hovered over her body, she felt his warm breath all over body, leaving goosebumps wherever his breath connected with her skin..

______

“You really shouldn’t be doing that..” Eddie spoke up as he was walking past the truck with (y/n)’s legs sticking out.

A sigh left (y/n)’s mouth when she pushed herself with her legs, from underneath the truck on the roller board. She sat up as she clicked her spine into place. Her vision was blurry for a second, but when she blinked a few times, the blur in front of her eyes seemed to be gone.

“Don’t worry, I already fixed it.” she said as she stood up from the board and grabbed a cloth to wipe her dirty hands with. “You could’ve just asked one of us to do it.” Eddie said, trying to make eye contact with his colleague. “I’m pregnant Eddie, there's nothing wrong with my hands.” She said as she walked past him, pushing the dirty cloth into his chest.

“I’m just saying…” Eddie’s voice spoke up as she walked towards one of the benches in the station where her water bottle was.

”There’s nothing wrong with asking for help.” he continued his sentence as she chugged her water. As if she had run a marathon. (Y/n) gave a disgusted expression and grabbed her stomach as the water was trying to escape her mouth again.

She was basically living on some water and a cracker, she wasn’t hungry this morning and most of what she would eat would leave her body within minutes.

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. “You okay?” He asked as she held her fist to her mouth and closed her eyes for a second.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” she said when she held out her hand as a stop sign. “(Y/n)..”

“Eddie, why don’t you put your nose in someone else’s business.” she held onto her water bottle as she wanted to make a beeline for the stairs.

“I assume that is the hormones talking” he mumbled as he just stayed right where he was.

“I swea-“ just as she wanted to shoot back at him, while pointing her finger at her protective team member, squealing tires and a gunshot rang through the street.

“What the hell was that?” Evan spoke as he jumped down the last two steps of the stairs.

As soon as Eddie heard the gunshots, he clicked on the button to close the garage door. But the door was on fifty percent of closing when a car drove through the garage door into the firehouse and stopped on the ambulance spot.

Hen and Chimney were out with the ambulance on a medical call while the rest of the team was trying to do some tasks inside.

Two guys stepped out of the vehicle, one of the men went to the backseat as he dragged out one more member, his chest fully covered in blood.

“Woah woah!” Evan called out when one of the two men pointed a gun at the three firefighters. (Y/n) took a quick glance behind her, to see if Evan was somewhere near her, seeing what was happening.

Evan’s stomach turned when he reached the lower ground of the firehouse. He was just enjoying his coffee in the loft, only to be interrupted by an arguing duo downstairs, gunshots and squealing tires.

His eyes wandered to his wife as he realized what was happening. Their eyes connected. She had an frightened expression projected all over her face.

The gun the man was pointing at Eddie and (y/n) switched every few seconds between the three firefighters. “Y’all know how to give first aid, right?” the man spoke as he pointed with his free hand to his injured friend.

Eddie tried to stay calm and nodded at his question while he had his hands up in the air. “Good. Then you can help my friend.” he spoke as he pointed the gun at Eddie and walked over to him. Eddie bit his lower lip, and simply gave the guy a dead stare.

“Are you gonna help my guy or what?” the man asked, closing distance between Eddie and him. “Why would we want to help someone who’s threatening us with a gun.” Evan spoke up, stone cold. The man scoffed at Evan’s reaction, and knocked the end of his gun on the side of the firefighter’s head.

A wave of pain went through Evan’s head as he received the ice cold gun to his skin. And his hand made its way to the painful spot. “Alright, let's see if you still won't help us if I did this..” The man grabbed (y/n)’s upper arm and pulled her towards him. A shiver rolled down (y/n)’s spine as she felt a cold metal resting on the side of her head.

“Hey! Don’t you fucking touch her!” Evan’s voice yelled through the massive open space of the 118 firehouse.

His arm was around her neck, pulled strongly around it so she had nowhere to go. She could feel the man laughing at the reaction he got from doing this. The second guy who was still with the injured man pointed his gun at Evan.

Her breath was shaking, she was terrified to take another breath. (y/n) didn’t want to believe what was happening right now. She felt like she was going to be sick. She tried to stay strong, to not show any weakness. But when she closed her eyes and squeezed them, a tear rolled over her cheek.

“Okay! okay! We will help you. But first, you got to let her go man..” Eddie tried to make a compromise. The man shook his head at first. “Look. She’s a paramedic. She can help your friend. But she can’t do that with a gun pointed at her head.” he tried to convince the man. Sure Eddie was also a paramedic. But they had to get (y/n) back to safety.

The man who was holding (y/n) still in his tight grip pushed the gun deeper into her skin, as he took a deep breath and breathed in her scent. He abruptly let go of the woman and he pushed her towards Eddie and Evan, who both catched (y/n).

_______

She was scared for her life and sweating like an otter as she wrapped the man's wounds. Her head was throbbing, and her vision was blurry as she secured the gauze on the man’s chest. It looked like she could see her own heartbeat through her eyes.

The injured man started to sound like he couldn’t breathe. “He’s developing a tension pneumothorax” (y/n) said as she ruffled through the medic bag searching for the equipment she needed to help the man. “Shit” she whispered under her breath as she sighed.

“(y/n) talk to me, what do you need?” Bobby’s voice spoke as he was sitting on a bench, with Evan and Eddie next to him at gunpoint. “I need a large bore needle. But I can't find it in the bag!” She says. “Stay calm okay, we have another medic bag in the truck.” Bobby tried to reassure her. “I need that needle if you want me to save your friend here” she spoke to the man who was also holding her at gunpoint while she was working on the man.

She wasn’t missing that needle in her bag. She wanted one of them to have the chance to radio dispatch or ambulance for help.

“You. Go get her that thingy” The gun pointed at Evan. His eyes shot up, in confusion. Unsure what was going on. They had restocked everything. They had enough needles in one bag. It looked like he had zoned out, while he watched his wife help this injured man while he held a gun to her head.

Evan slowly got onto his feet, and walked towards the truck. The gunmen couldn’t follow Evan to the truck, they were outnumbered. So they just hoped that he would return to them as fast as possible.

Evan sneaked to the front of the truck, and silently opened the driver's door. He grabbed the radio with his right hand as he silently pressed the side of the radio to talk.

“Dispatch this is truck one eighteen. I have a ten one hostage situation here. In need of emergency assistance.”

As soon as Evan disappeared between the trucks, (y/n) started to make loud sounds by digging through the medic bag. She hoped deep down that Evan would get her needle hint. And took the chance to radio dispatch.

The injured guy's breath was getting worse and worse by the minute. “What’s taking so long?” One of the guys called out as he started making its way towards the truck.

“I found it!” she yelled as she held the needle into the air, as if she had just won a price. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw Evan walking towards her with also a long bore needle in her hand. Evan jogged over, dropped the needle into her medic bag and gave her a wink.

He did it. He radioed someone. He called for help.

Her gloved hands opened the package of the needle. She squeezed her eyes and pushed the back of her hand to her forehead to try and get back her vision.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks when he sees (y/n) squeezing her eyes, trying to focus on the needle between her fingers. Sweat was dripping all over her forehead. She was pale, it looked like she could pass out any second.

“You want someone else to take over?” Eddie asked her. (Y/n) stayed silent, she didn’t give him an answer. His voice was dull, as if he was an echo inside of her head.

An angry voice filled the open space of the firehouse. “Hey! shut the fuck up!” he spoke as he pushed the gun to Eddie’s chest. Eddie stood up. “You really trust her to save your guy? Look at her! She’s practically about to faint!” he pointed at his colleague who was staring at the needle in her hand.

Her breathing became shallow and the world around her started to spin. She really tried to calm herself down, to make all the symptoms she felt, to leave her body.

“Do you really have time to make such a mistake?” Eddie says as he looks over to (y/n).

(Y/n)’s eyes started rolling to the back of her head as she completely lost the balance of her body. Gravity pushed her down to the ground and the needle fell out of her hands.

When both gunmen were looking at what was happening to the female firefighter, Bobby and Evan both pushed one guy to the ground as Eddie took over the other man.

“You got him?” Evan asked when Bobby pinned his knee onto the back of the man. He didn’t wait for an answer. He just ran to his wife, almost tripping over his own two feet, screaming her name as he rolled her onto her back.

Evan’s hand gently patted the side of her face. “Hey! Hey! (Y/n)!” he softly said as he continued patting the side of her face.

Her mouth left a groan, but her eyes stayed close. “Tell your child to stop bouncing on my intestines” she spoke weakly.

Evan smiled through his gasps and pulled his wife into his chest. His left hand rested on the back of her head, and his right arm was around her back. “Don’t you ever do this again.” he says as he plants a kiss on her hair.

The garage door opened, and filled the firehouse with blue siren lights and sounds.

[bellarkeselection]

Walter to the Rescue

Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias

After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.

Tag list - @cognacdelights

Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”

My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.

“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”

I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”

It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”

“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.

“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.

He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”

“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.

The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”

“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.

Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.

Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”

“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.

I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”

“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.

“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.

Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”

“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.

He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”

“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”

He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.

“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”

“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”

He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”

“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.

Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”

“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.

Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.

I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.

“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.

Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”

“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[megalony]

You've Been Hurt

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, based on a request by anon. I hope you all like it, any feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme

911 Masterlist

Summary: The 118 is shook up after a call out when someone open fires on them. Eddie does everything he can to protect his wife. Luckily no one gets hurt, or so they think.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wave of tiredness that washed over (Y/n) started to drift away like the tide leaving the ocean when her eyes landed on a very familiar mop of brown curls and a set of broad shoulders that straightened out in front of her. She pushed forward and leaned up on her toes, gluing her chest and abdomen up into his back while her arms cocooned around his neck.

Her chin perched on Eddie's shoulder and she leaned across to peck his neck cheekily. She could feel his head turn towards her and he kissed her temple while he brought his hands up to hold her wrists.

"Is it time for home yet?"

"Hm, afraid not mi amor. Six more hours."

(Y/n) burrowed her face further into his neck to smother her groan of disappointment. She wanted to go home now. She wanted to be curled up on the sofa with Eddie wrapped around her like a comfort blanket.

They had been on shift for six hours, they were halfway through their shift but (Y/n) just wanted to go home. The only good thing was with them both having Chris, they didn't do that many double shifts because of childcare. (Y/n) wasn't sure she'd be able to cope on the double shifts anymore when she barely managed to sleep at home unless Eddie was there beside her.

"Let's pack it up and get back for lunch." Bobby waved his hand and motioned to the truck. They needed to go and refuel before another call dragged them back out again and kept them busy.

(Y/n) nudged her nose up and pecked Eddie's jaw, reaching to sink her teeth down into his skin just to hear him growl before she pulled back and scuttled over towards the truck.

She whipped her helmet up from the floor and grabbed the hacksaw she had been using earlier, ready to pack them away in the truck. The compartments slammed open and closed as everyone put their equipment and helmets back. (Y/n) almost lost herself in her thoughts as she put her helmet back but a spark of adrenaline lit up in her stomach when she felt Eddie lean over her shoulder to put his helmet back.

He muttered a quiet "Excuse me," against her ear and let his hand wander down to her bum before he turned and headed after Evan to pile into the truck.

Evan pulled himself up into the truck and moved to take a seat while Eddie climbed up behind him. He could feel (Y/n) close behind him and he found himself smiling.

Until a gunshot rang out through the air.

He could see Evan jerk forward with his arms up over his head and his knees jolted up like he had been given an electric shock and was starting to spasm. And when another gunshot fired into the truck and smashed through a window, Eddie was sure he screamed.

Eddie felt (Y/n) scream into his back when more shots started to fire and her hands clamped down on his arms. She glued herself into his back, trying to get him to move before they got hit because they were still in the firing line. Eddie scrambled to get one arm behind his back so he could grab (Y/n)'s arm and make sure she stayed behind him, but he wasn't sure whether she pushed him or whether she fell into him.

Either way, he stumbled down onto his knees with (Y/n) on his back and his free hand slammed into the floor to break his fall and stop his head from colliding with the metal floor and giving himself a nosebleed.

No one at this scene had been going around waving a gun. They weren't here to sort out a fight or a threatening situation with a gunman. If they were, the scene would be flooded with police. They didn't even have the ambulance with them today because they had no injured persons to deal with. Who was shooting at them? Why were they being targeted?

"Get down! Get on the floor!" Evan jerked his right arm out and pulled Chimney's arm before he moved to do the same to Hen, trying to drag them both down onto the floor.

Someone was shooting at them, they needed to cower down in the footwell below the windows so they weren't easy targets. Sitting in their seats made them easy to spot and aim at. (Y/n) and Eddie had been stood up when the shots started, they might have been aiming for both of them.

Chimney and Hen went down on their knees and leaned forward with their heads hunkered down low and their hands braced on the seats in front of them.

When the shock started to turn into adrenaline, Eddie shifted around so he was laid on his back instead of his stomach. He coiled one arm around his wife's waist and reeled her up into his chest, pulling her until her legs were no longer dangling out the door. He nudged her in Evan's direction before he shimmied down on his back to try and reach for the door.

He counted to three in his head before he bolted up like he was doing a sit up and grabbed the door to swing it shut.

Once it was closed, Eddie turned back around and reached both his hands out for (Y/n).

He hadn't been shot at since he was in the army and that was over five years ago. Eddie didn't think he would ever have to worry about someone aiming a gun at him for the rest of his life. He thought that part of his life was over. He was back home with his family, gunshots should only ring in his ears when he was having a nightmare. This was the worst nightmare there was. His wife was here with him. Eddie never wanted (Y/n) to have that kind of experience or be in the line of fire.

Everything within (Y/n) turned to mush. Adrenaline sparked through her blood and flurried through her stomach that was tingling with nerves as all the blood rushed to her head.

She cocooned her arms to her chest but she let herself go limp when she felt Eddie grabbing her. He reeled her over to him until she was curled around his thighs but her breath caught in her lungs when Eddie moulded himself over her like he was trying to press them both together and merge them into one being. His chest weighed down on her back, but it was a soothing, comforting weight like a blanket. He kept an arm around her waist and smothered his lips into the back of her hair.

She knew he was whispering something, but through the panic and the blood pumping through her ears, (Y/n) couldn't work out what he was saying. It didn't take a genius to guess that Eddie was reverting back to his army training and whatever he said was some kind of mantra to get him through this.

She dug her fingers into his thighs and closed her eyes tight, letting each breath fan into his thigh and dampen his trouser leg. Hoping it would stop her from having a panic attack and also give Eddie something else to focus on.

"Drive! Drive- go!"

"Everyone stay low!"

Bobby turned the lights on but not the sirens and leaned forward until his head was level with the steering wheel for extra coverage and protection. He didn't think twice before slamming his foot down on the gas to get them moving. Whoever was shooting was aiming for them and they needed to move.

"This is Captain Nash, shots fired! Repeat, shots are being fired we need police assistance. Is anyone hurt?"

There was nothing they could do. They couldn't stay and try to see if anyone was injured or hurt or stop the gunman when they seemed to be the targets.

Everyone took a quick glance down at themselves before they looked over at one another. No one seemed to have been hit and one of the windows had smashed but the glass hadn't cut any of them. They had escaped that one safe enough, but it had been close.

They were all still bowed down, no one dared lift their head above the chairs but Hen braved it first to move around until she was sat on the floor instead of kneeling down. She slouched until her head was resting back on the chair behind her and her arms could curl around her knees that she brought up to her stomach. Chimney stayed kneeling down and kept himself wedged into the corner and Evan stayed hunched over on his knees with his hands rubbing up and down his thighs to try and calm himself down.

Silence continued to envelope them as they all looked around at each other, but their eyes started to linger on Eddie longer and longer when he started to rock back and forth. He had his eyes closed as tight as possible and both his arms were keeping (Y/n) pinned between his legs and his chest so he could stay coiled around her. But when they began to hear what he was whispering, they all looked at each other.

"Shots fired… we're going down."

He must have repeated himself over ten times before Evan finally worked up the courage to rest his hand on Eddie's shoulder. He hated the way his brother in law jerked away from him and the rabid, frightening look when Eddie glared up at him.

"Are you both okay?" Evan didn't think they had been shot or caught bu the bullets, neither of them were screaming in agony or seemed to be bleeding out anywhere. But he needed to check that his little sister and his brother in law were alright.

When Eddie didn't respond, Evan reached over and tried to carefully pull Eddie up. Eddie allowed Evan to help him sit up and he shuffled back until he was slouched down much the same as how Hen was sitting. His pupils had blown wide and his chest was rising and falling so quickly he was going to make himself pass out. His panicked state made it somewhat easier for Evan to check him over and make sure he wasn't hurt. He didn't have any injuries.

But when Evan tried to reach for his sister and reel her up, he jerked back into Chimney when Eddie gripped his wrist. His hold was ferociously tight and his fingers were already bruising into Evan's skin and making him shake.

His face fell into a look of despair and that was enough to make Eddie realise what he was doing. He dropped Evan's hand with a very quiet apology and tried to stop the trembling from setting in through his system. But (Y/n) was his wife. She was his girl and he wanted to protect her. Eddie needed to protect her. No one else needed to touch or her get close to her apart from him.

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt Eddie's shaking hands curl around her elbows so he could reel her up. She let him pull her up and when she was close enough, she shifted around. She sat down between his thighs, wiggling closer until her back was pressed into his chest and Eddie's thighs clamped down tightly into her legs, squeezing her between him.

(Y/n) couldn't find her voice, but she managed to nod her head at her brother. She was okay, she had to be okay. She didn't feel like she was in agony and that was a good sign.

Her head slumped down against Eddie's chest and she bound both her arms around his middle as she closed her eyes. She whispered "it's okay," and pressed a kiss against his chest through his shirt until Eddie coiled his arms around her waist and smothered his face against the top of her head.

Her ears were pounding with her heartbeat that was beating beneath every inch of her skin like she was a drum or a sound machine vibrating madly. Adrenaline was still forming and churning in her stomach and it made her feel sick. The gunshots had sent her falling into Eddie and it had made her lower back twinge in pain which was still aching and there was a dull throb between her hips from how they landed.

The shots must have been close.

"Is anyone hurt? Do I have to make a trip down to the hospital?" Bobby needed an answer. The turning for the hospital was coming up and he could either take that turn, or carry on straight and head back to the station.

"We're good, Cap."

None of them wanted to move when the truck pulled up in the station.

All of them seemed to exchange looks before Evan sighed and took the plunge. He used the seat behind him as leverage and pushed up to his feet so he could carefully climb over Eddie and his sister. He opened the door and hopped down. He cracked his neck into place and stretched his arms in front of him while he waited for everyone else to follow him out.

Hen climbed over Eddie to get out, followed by Chimney. She folded her arms over her chest and rubbed her hands up and down her sleeves to try and calm herself down. Any one of them could have gotten a gunshot wound today.

"Are you okay?" It was the first proper thing Eddie managed to say and he fought every instinct within him to unravel his arms from (Y/n)'s waist.

His hands moved to cup her face and he leaned his forehead down against hers, brushing their noses together as he stared into her eyes that worked wonders on calming his soul. He wished she had been stood in front of him instead of behind him. He could have pushed her down quicker and covered her better if she had gotten in the truck first. Grabbing her from behind him had been so much harder and she could have gotten hurt.

"I think so… help a girl up, handsome."

(Y/n) pressed a quick, wet kiss against his lips before she felt his hands move to hold her hips. He stood on shaking legs and pulled her up with him, kissing her again and moved to climb down first. Their hands stayed tangled together and (Y/n) curled her free hand around Eddie's bicep, gluing herself into his back.

Bobby had his hands on his hips, his foot was tapping against the floor and he moved one hand to drag across his chin before he scratched his nails into the back of his head.

"The police will be down here soon to take statements, and I'll need you all to complete some paperwork for the Chief, but that can wait until tomorrow. Does anyone need to see a councellor or have a session before you carry on with your shifts?"

The police would no doubt be here within the hour to take statements and talk them all through what happens next. And Bobby would need to fill out an incident report and have everyone make their statements for the paperwork. He could let that wait until tomorrow, until the shock had worn off and everyone felt better.

But they all knew that they had a right to see a councellor or therapist and if they wanted to, they could have an appointment to be cleared to come back to work. Bobby wouldn't want anyone to carry on working if they felt too shaky or unsettled and thought they should talk it through with someone first. Their health and wellbeing came first and they had almost taken a bullet today, it would be understandable if anyone wanted to go home.

(Y/n) buried her nose into Eddie's jacket and tightened her hands around his arm when she felt a little lightheaded. The shock was starting to set in and she couldn't tell who was shaking more; her or her husband.

"Are you all sure you're okay?"

A chorus of 'yes' and nodding heads filled the air and Bobby waved his hand at them. They all knew what to do. Go get changed, get themselves a drink and try to calm down while he sorted dinner before the station became flooded with police.

(Y/n) closed her eyes for a few seconds when everyone started to disappear and float around the station.

She didn't now what to do. She wanted to be sick. She wanted to collapse and pass out. Her head was spinning so violently she thought it was going to disconnect from her neck. Her lower back was aching and thumping with her heartbeat and her knees were starting to wobble. All she really wanted to do was go home and lie down in bed.

But she would feel silly and cruel and weak if she asked to go home. She didn't want to speak to a councellor, Eddie would be the one out of them all who would benefit the most from that. (Y/n) wanted to take him home, but she knew he wouldn't want to go home just yet and she wasn't leaving his side.

"Let's hit the gym."

(Y/n) let her eyes drag over to her brother who was shaking his hands at his side, clearly full of adrenaline that he didn't know how to get rid of.

She knew what he meant by that. He meant he was going to go into the gym and break the equipment. He had ripped the last punching bag they had at the station after a bad fallout with their parents when they were last in town.

Eddie nodded in agreement and he glanced his eyes over at (Y/n) who squeezed his arm. She would go along with them, she didn't want to be parted from Eddie just yet and they had nothing else to do but calm down. Her face stayed buried in his arm and she closed her eyes, letting Eddie turn them both around and guide them down towards the gym.

She felt dizzy.

Her legs were starting to tremble again and (Y/n) pinched her fingers into Eddie's arm as they reached the gym.

She felt his lips press against the top of her head and he helped her flop down onto the bench like she had turned to jelly. When Eddie shrugged off his jacket, a smile pulled on his lips and he looked a little more human and relaxed when (Y/n) reached her hands out in a grabbing motion. She took his jacket and coiled it into her chest, breathing in his scent to see if it would calm her down and ward away the shock rattling through her body.

"You sure you're okay mi amor?"

"In shock I think."

(Y/n) managed a smile when Eddie cupped her chin and dragged his thumb across her lower lip, pulling it down. He bent forward and kissed her sweetly and then he waited, watching closely as (Y/n) leaned to her right and laid out on the bench.

She held Eddie's jacket against her chest and kept the collar pressed into her nose to calm herself down and breathe in his scent again. When her eyes fell closed and she started to hum, Eddie turned around and moved over to Evan. He didn't feel like doing any training or exercises just yet, but he would gladly watch Evan and chat to him if he wanted to talk.

(Y/n) didn't know how long they had been in the gym, all the noises around them seemed to fizzle and drown out and she was sure she passed out for a little while. It could have been a few minutes, but it could have been half an hour for all (Y/n) knew.

"I think Bobby wants us." Evan heaved and nodded towards the door where Bobby was waving them over. It would either be to get something to eat or have a chat and do a quick statement with the police. Either way, neither of them cared, they would do whatever they needed to. Half an hour in the gym had calmed Evan down and cooled Eddie off back to a more human form of himself.

Evan took off his boxing gloves and headed out the room, glancing his eyes at his sister who was still laid out but he knew Eddie would check on her and get her up. He figured they both needed some time together.

"Mi amor, do you want to come and get a drink?"

Eddie crouched down in front of (Y/n), resting his elbows on his knees while he reached one hand out and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. He grazed his fingertips across her cheek and down her jaw until she opened her eyes and tried to smile, but when she winced, Eddie tilted his head to the side.

"Do you feel okay, baby?"

"Hm," (Y/n) didn't have any energy to speak so she tried to shake her head, but she found she could barely do that either.

Her throat felt dry and sticky and her eyes wouldn't open or focus properly, she could barely narrow her vision on Eddie's mesmerising eyes. Her body felt so heavy she couldn't move and her back was now aching and killing her with a more intense, throbbing pain that made tears well up in her eyes.

She managed to move her hands just enough to reach them out towards Eddie, sweetly and silently asking if he would help her up.

He obliged with a tender smile, moving his jacket out of her grip so he could hold her hands and gently sit her up. He stood in front of her and pulled her up but the moment she was on her feet, her head started to spin. Her knees trembled and her head flopped forward into Eddie's chest as she groaned. She felt dizzy and sick and feverish all at once.

Her knees juttered into his thighs and her hands gripped his exposed arms before he cocooned his arms around her waist to stop her from going down to the floor.

"Shh, come here, I got you." He leaned her back and sat her back down on the bench. He needed to take a look at her, she clearly wasn't feeling well. The shock might be getting to her and taking over and if that was the case, Eddie needed to take her home.

After what they had been through, it would probably be best if they went home.

A frown formed on his lips when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple and realised she was sweating and starting to get a fever. Shock wouldn't necessarily push her into a feverish state like this.

"Do you feel sick, baby? You're burning up."

"Hurts," Her voice croaked and a few tears trickled down her face, making Eddie's heart drop down to his stomach.

"What hurts, hm? Talk to me, it's okay." He tried to cup her face and tilt her head up but even then, her eyes were still hooded and they wouldn't focus on him. (Y/n) finally closed her eyes and flopped her head forward onto his shoulder with a thump that jostled him.

He barely managed to hear her mutter 'my back' into his neck before she tried to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Let me take a look, sweet girl."

Eddie reached behind him and pulled (Y/n)'s arms back down so they dropped between them. He carefully rolled her florescent jacket down her shoulders and shimmied it off her arms before he dropped it to the floor along with his. He hushed her quietly when she nuzzled her nose into his neck and whimpered and he trailed his hands down her back and around to her hips as he straightened up and tried to lean over her shoulder.

But his lips curled into a frown when he felt something wet on his hand.

Terror was the only thing Eddie could feel when he lifted his left hand from her back and held it up in front of his eyes.

Blood.

Why was she bleeding? What had happened to her? Why wasn't she groaning or screaming in pain and telling him she was hurt? Why didn't she tell him she was bleeding from somewhere like this?

"Oh God- baby you're bleeding!"

Eddie pushed up and swiftly sat down beside her on the bench so he could try and see what was going on. He shuddered when (Y/n) flopped across his lap with a thump and buried her face into his thighs that she tried to squeeze to show she was still conscious and awake.

With her laid over his lap, Eddie grabbed the hem of her shirt and tugged it free from her trousers so he could yank it up to her shoulders. His fingers hooked into the hem of her trousers and he gave them a little tug down but his heart dropped down to his stomach and bile rose in the back of his throat when he saw what the problem was.

She had been shot.

The wound was small, not much larger than a mole and Eddie figured the bullet couldn't have been from a sniper because there was no exit wound in or around her stomach. That was a good thing. He didn't want to have a hole shot through his wife's stomach, she wouldn't survive from that.

It was rather close to her right hip but Eddie couldn't pinpoint what had been hit. She could have caught a kidney, her intestine, even her hipbone. At least it wasn't close to her spine.

The adrenaline must have countered out the pain and it amazed Eddie that (Y/n) had gone this long without collapsing. But that meant she had gone almost an hour, bleeding out and steadily getting worse right before his eyes and he hadn't known. He hadn't done anything to help her or make her better, he had done absolutely nothing for his wife.

When he dared to sneak a glance down to the floor, he reached down and moved her jacket around a little. And sure enough, right there between the A and the Z of their shared last name, there was a small circular rip in the fabric with gunshot residue caked around the fraying cotton.

How had he missed that?

"Baby, baby we gotta go now. Come on, come here."

Eddie slipped his hands beneath her arms and lifted her back up into a sitting position. He hated the way her head flopped forward into her chest and how her shoulders slugged down and made her look like a puppet with no strings.

"Go?" (Y/n) tried to mumble and reach her hand out for Eddie's wrist but she could feel herself starting to drift off.

Where were they going? What was the sudden rush? Why did she feel like she was slowly draining away?

"You've been hurt baby, I need to take you to hospital. Just stay with me, hm? You stay awake and talk to me, sweet girl. Come on now."

His hands stayed under her arms while he moved to crouch back down in front of her. He grabbed her hands and slung her arms loosely around his neck and lifted her head onto his shoulder before his hands moved to cup her bum. Eddie hoisted (Y/n) up and secured his right arm around her bum while his left hand cradled the back of her neck to keep her steady on his chest as he began to run.

He didn't know where his sudden burst of adrenaline and energy had come from but it powered him to run out the gym and down the corridor until he was back in the main floor of the station.

"Buck! Buck, go- go someone start the ambulance we need to move!"

"What? Eddie what's wrong?"

"Eddie, what's going on?"

Evan hurried up down the stairs when he saw Eddie run past him and his eyes narrowed. He was sure he could see (Y/n) in his arms. What the Hell was he doing carrying Evan's sister around the station like that? Why was she limp and fraying in his arms? What were they doing?

Eddie moved his hand from the back of (Y/n)'s neck to point Hen towards the ambulance until she seemed to get the hint. She dropped whatever paperwork was in her hands and flung open the back doors although she had no idea why.

"Eddie-"

"She's been shot! The adrenaline's wearing off, she's been shot in the back- get us to the fucking hospital now!"

Eddie didn't break his stride. As soon as he was close enough, he reached his hand out for the ambulance door and used it as leverage to propell himself up the steps to get inside. He hunched over, cradled the back of (Y/n)'s neck again and leaned over the gurney to lay her down as carefully as possible. He laid her on her left side so she was facing him and stretched her arms out in front of her so they hung off the side of the gurney.

He bolted round to stand on the other side of the gurney just as Evan clambered up into the back with them and Bobby and Chimney hung at the doors, desperate to know what was going on.

"Eddie, what the fuck… (Y/n)? Sis, hey stay with me," Evan crouched down in front of the gurney and moved his hands to cradle his sister's face in his palms. He shook her head until she managed to open her eyes but he looked up at Eddie when he grabbed a pair of scissors and slashed up the centre of (Y/n)'s scrunched up shirt. He ripped it apart and pulled it off her arms before he sat down behind her.

"She was shot?"

"There's a bullet hole here, I- the adrenaline must have clouded the pain, come on we have to go!"

Bobby pointed Hen towards the driver's side of the ambulance, muttering that he and Chimney would follow along behind them and meet them there.

Reaching across the gurney, Eddie handed Evan a pulse monitoring clip so he could attach it to (Y/n)'s finger while Eddie slipped a blood pressure cuff onto her arm.

"Fuck, her BP is dropping fast, I don't know what kind of internal bleeding she's got. Here, give her some adrenaline, I need to pack the wound." Eddie handed over a pre-filled needle of adrenaline before he sat down behind his wife and got to work. He grabbed two sheets of gauze and pressed them as forcefully to (Y/n)'s back as he could until she weakly mewled and her arms spasmed in front of her.

He ripped some medical tape between his teeth and taped it tightly over the gauze to keep it in place. He then stood up and leaned over the gurney while he pressed his fingertips around (Y/n)'s hip, squeezing her waist and pressing down over her stomach. Her skin was flushed and the squidgy, jelly feeling told Eddie she did have internal bleeding.

"Alright baby, you can keep the pressure on that for me, hm? You can do that, can't you?"

Eddie's hands shifted to (Y/n)'s shoulder and he reached around and hooked a hand beneath her tummy so he could carefully roll her onto her back. Laying directly on her back would add all her weight onto the wound and stop the blood from oozing out as quickly. They needed the blood to stem as much as possible so she didn't bleed out in here.

They had no transfusions to give her and an IV would do nothing if she had no blood left to circulate through her body.

Reaching beneath the gurney, Eddie found the oxygen machine and switched it on before he strapped the mask over (Y/n)'s nose and mouth. He leant down to kiss her burning temple but he pulled back when she started to gasp. Her chest juttered up and down like she was starting to seize and a horrible tremble set in across her body as her heartbeat began to drop.

"She's going into shock," Eddie ransacked one of the drawers until he found a thermometer and pressed it into (Y/n)'s ear. "Fever's burning high, she's gonna shut down. Get the compress packs out and find me all the saline bags. Now Buck!"

The same tremors that rattled through (Y/n) began to shudder through Evan as he turned around and shakily pulled out drawer after drawer to find what he was told to search for.

He found the cold compress packs and he took a sharp breath when his brother in law snatched them and placed one over (Y/n)'s chest near her neck. The rest went over her stomach, against her wrists and down her legs.

Once Evan handed over the four saline bags that were stocked up this morning for emergencies, he frowned. What was Eddie going to do with those? He couldn't hook (Y/n) up to four at once, it wouldn't work it would only overload her system. And they weren't that cold to act as more cold packs to try and bring her fever down.

"Sorry baby, you're not gonna like this."

Evan stumbled back with wide eyes when Eddie held one of the saline bags and pierced it with a scalpal. It burst wide open and Eddie let all the water spray across (Y/n)'s stomach and splash up her neck. He did the same with the other ones that Evan had dumped on the end of the gurney. Each one got torn open and water sprayed all across (Y/n)'s trembling body and splattered up the walls and across both men.

It was the quickest way Eddie could think to drop (Y/n)'s temperature before her organs began to shut down from her fever.

Hen found no words when she opened the back doors and stared at the scene in front of her.

(Y/n) was subtly trembling on the gurney, covered head to toe in water that was dripping down onto the floor as if a tidal wave had washed over the three of them. Compresses were piled up on (Y/n)'s body, both Eddie's hands were smeared with blood that was steadily dribbling down his arm in a strange burnt orange shade, dampened by the saline.

Saying nothing, Hen grabbed the end of the gurney as Evan reached for the top and they both juttered it down to the floor. Eddie kept a tight hold of (Y/n)'s hand as the three of them bolted in through the paramedic's entrance over to a team of doctors that were clearly waiting for them.

"GSW to the lower right side of her back, a lot of internal bleeding. She's running a fever and going into shock."

"N-naproxen and ibuprofen, she's allergic to both. Don't give her any." Evan dragged his hand through his hair when they snatched the gurney and started to steal away his sister.

They had to save her.

***

"Finally! How is she? What's happening?" As quick as a shot, Evan bolted up from his seat and stumbled forward. Tripping over his feet when he realised his hand was still tangled with Maddie's and she wasn't quite stood up yet.

He turned to look at his big sister for a brief moment until she stood at his side, her hand tangled with his and her free hand wrapped around his arm that she had confiscated and pulled tight to her chest.

The last few hours had felt like an eternity had passed them all by. They had filled up the waiting room. Maddie, Evan and Chimney had sat beneath the window, worrying, humming and crying the afternoon away. Hen had gone on multiple coffee runs for everyone and Bobby and Athena had been pacing up and down the hallway. Bobby's rosary beads were wrapped tight around his wrist and curled between his fingers to let him pray.

Eddie had been sat on the floor, knees pulled up to his stomach and his hands clasped together pressed against his lips.

He only moved when the doctor dragged him down the hall to talk in private and no one knew if that was a good thing or not.

"How'd it go?" Maddie tried to control the trembling in her voice as she looked over at Eddie, trying to decipher the expression on his face but he was always hard to read. He was stood in front of them, chest heaving, hands clamped down on his hips and shoulders bursting through his shirt.

Eddie reached a hand up to run across his jaw and scratch down his neck while his eyes danced around the waiting room. He didn't know where to look or who to focus on.

"The bullet ruptured her right kidney, they had to remove it. That's why it's taken so long."

"Y-you can live with just one kidney, right?" Evan wasn't a doctor or a medic, he didn't know how well the body would cope with just one kidney when it was supposed to have two. He'd never had any problems with any of his organs and when he had his accident, it was his leg that had been damaged.

Maddie patted Evan's arm and nodded, trying to smile up at him to reassure him. It wouldn't be easy and it would come with complications, but (Y/n) would be able to live without one kidney.

"They've got her fever down and done two blood transfusions. The only thing they're worried about is if she gets sepsis… we can go see her now."

Eddie felt his brother in law follow closely behind him like he was a shadow, always present and looming behind. But it was oddly comforting to feel Evan this close and he could almost feel the adrenaline rolling off of Evan in waves. He wanted to see his sister. The last look he got of her was seeing her lying on a stretcher, shaking and deadly close to falling into cardiac arrest.

Evan wanted a better image of (Y/n) in his mind. He wanted to see his younger sister smile and take his hand and tell him she was okay. He wanted to hear her speak and see her move around and reassure himself he wasn't about to lose any of his family.

A wide grin broke out across Evan's face and he weaved around Eddie to move and sit down on the chair pulled close to the bed. He reached his hands out and coiled (Y/n)'s hand up to his chest while he watched Eddie move to sit down on the opposite side of the bed. And he felt Maddie move to stand behind the chair, both her hands holding Evan's shoulders comfortingly like they were all children again trying to care for one another.

"How you feeling?"

"Sore…" (Y/n) squeezed Evan's hand but when she tried to push up, she felt Eddie's hands on her shoulders, gently but firmly pushing her back down.

"No, no mi amor. You need to rest." A gentle smile formed on Eddie's lips when he leaned over to kiss her temple and felt her free hand brush across his jaw. She didn't need to be sitting up and moving around when she was only just waking up from the anaesthetic. The last thing they needed was (Y/n) moving and rupturing her stitches.

"Only you could get shot and not even know about it, sis."

[kaycode1999]

For anyone who might be saying Bee is out of character in the trailer let me remind you of the batshit insane things he's done in the movies and TV shows

Drove up to the dealership parking lot as Sam was looking at cars and threw his door into the car next to him

blasted a frequency that shattered the glass on every other car in the vicinity scaring Bobby Bolivia enough to let them take it for $4000

Tried to wingman Sam by stalling his engine and pulling over to the side of the road while playing sexual healing

Chased Sam up onto the walkway while he was riding a bike

Threw a hissy fit about being called a crappy camero and scanned a newer model

Essentially relieved himself all over agent Simmons because he was rude

Drove to where Sam was at college and drove up onto a bush in front of the frat house where Sam was at the party before blaring the car alarm

Started going through different songs about how the “ girl” who got in with Sam was bad news and Sam was on the verge of being assaulted or cheating

Slammed what he thought was a human girls head into the dashboard before spraying what Im assuming is coolant on her because she insinuated she was going to get Sam to cheat on Mikayla

Threw himself out of a plane and used a dead Decepticon to soften his fall

Accidentally destroyed a major portion of Charlie’s house

Smeared egg all over the car of Charlie's bully before punching the roof and jumping on it crushing the car

Ran into a tree at high speed because he turned off his lights

Joined illegal street racing

Fought a modified human and lost

Used a random truck like a scooter to go after knockout because he lost his T-Cog and ended up going over a cliff

Drove off a ship and blasted a Decepticon ship in mid air

Did the dirty dancing chair thing in a paramount commercial https://youtu.be/QWRkBv4zJpU?si=6DUH2Zcpr2BXjA5T (I linked the commercial because it has me dying laughing every time)

Joined an underground bot fighting ring to find Grimlock

Shot the tape for never gonna give you up out of his cassette player the second it started playing nearly taking Charlie’s head off

Angrily did donuts in front of the stinger prototype

Forced his steering wheel into Shanes's face when he called Bee’s alt-mode uncool

Got so angry when the stinger commercial called him old and ugly he kicked down the prototype

Is generally the most conspicuous bot to exist and is very bad at doing the blending-in thing given he's an Autobot scout

I’ll add more if I think of them but Bumblebee is just a tiny feral gremlin and I love him so very much. Each iteration of him is perfect