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collectivecloseness · 2 years ago

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Beautiful Swan

Eddie Munson x reader

(Summary: When Hellfire starts a fun little game of ‘what animal does everyone look like?’ your self-esteem plummets to the floor. But your best friend and crush, Eddie, can tell. And he’s there to not only defend you, but make sure he’s around to help pick you back up <3. Tw: negative body image. Reuploaded from my ao3. 9.4K)

You’d finally finished today’s session. Eddie decided the cliffhanger he’d brought up was the best place to leave it, the worst for you and the rest of Hellfire unfortunately. But that meant you guys had a few minutes where you could all just chat and hang out.

Eddie waddled up to you, nudging his shoulder against your own to get your attention, and when you looked to him, all he did was smile at you. You chuckled smally back, rubbing your shoulder against his playfully too.

You loved the fact that when Eddie enrolled you in his campaign, he pulled out the seat right next to his for you, on your very first day. Pushing it in with a genuinely charming smile as you sat, and a short bow of his head, as you thanked him. Gareth seemed to get a pencil thrown at his head right after that, although you were too busy starting at Eddie’s pretty smile he was giving just to you. So you guess he’s the one who lost his chair.

It wasn’t just his genuine and effortless charm that made you fall in love with Eddie Munson though, even before he was your best friend, although that certainly added to it. From the moment you saw Eddie, you were completely enamoured. Not just romantically, but he had such an aura around him it just made you want to be someone close to him till the end of time. You’d love, more than anything, for Eddie to ask you out. On a proper date, not just asking his friend to chill at the arcade or smoke weed in his empty trailer. Although you still enjoyed every interaction with him. Him asking you to do those as his girlfriend would be a great day! But it wasn’t going to happen.

Even though Eddie didn’t see much about himself, you tried to talk him up, as much as you could, even if sometimes it fell into the not completely platonic category, you would tell him, because he deserved to know every good thing about himself. You truly saw how amazing Eddie was. And while you two were best friends... you feared there was no way in hell, he would ever even consider thinking about you like that.

Not that you’d hold that against him! Of course not! He didn’t owe you anything, he was perfectly fine being attracted to who he was attracted to. But you sometimes just wished, you looked a little less like yourself, because now and again your gut just whispered to you all the parts of your body that made you unlovable to another person. Especially someone you admired so much, like Eddie Munson.

Eddie nudged you with his hip this time. And a laugh seeped from his bitten smirk as you shoved his arm with your hand, easily regaining his balance but using your shoulders to do so. You giggled back, offering your help by steadying his own shoulders, and letting go once he was on his feet. Eddie however, did not let go of your eyes. Still grinning, his body turned to give you his full attention. “How was today’s session princess?” His hand coyly flipped half over his grin, holding his elbow, like he was rocked with anticipation for your answer.

Your character wasn’t even royalty. And you refused to ever play the damsel in distress role, in a group filled with only boys. But Eddie still called you that pet name. And it made you smitten every damn single time. You at least presumed, it was a dnd reference.

“Was I an... adequate dungeon master?” He leant closer to you but didn’t whisper it. You sucked your lips in even though you made it clear you were smiling, just trying not to giggle, with the way Eddie made you feel. “Well... adequate may be a grand understatement, my noble dungeon master.”

Eddie’s fist skyrocketed to his chest, eyes closed as he let out a grateful sound. “You’re too kind sweet princess! For I surely would’ve been strewn in twain, if you thought any less of me.”

Eddie never gave up the silly voices, and he only peeked open one eye to see if you were amused, teeth gleaming in glee as he saw your cheeks raise as you laughed. He winked that open eye at you, before dropping his hands to his sides.

You went to swat at his chest teasingly again, but Eddie easily brushed away your hand with his own, smirking at his easy victory over you. His smirk soon transitioned into a smile, and his lips opened as if to say something else. Until Mike spoke up loudly.

“This is boring! Let’s play a game.”

Eddie didn’t even take his eyes off you before dramatically rolling them. You giggled, hiding it in your hand, but at the sound Eddie’s slumped shoulders bounced right back up, and he beamed at you proudly.

“Aw. Do the babies all need to play games to stay happy?” Gareth teased, flicking Mike’s forehead, who then bat at the band members hand like an angry cat.

“Dude shut up. You’re making us look like babies!” Dustin smally whacked Mike, Lucas agreeing. You laughed a little into Eddie, who’s shoulder was still close to yours and not going anywhere. The poor freshmen did still have to fight a little bit to get taken seriously sometimes. Although no one would debate that Eddie held the most power in this room.

“Let’s say what animal everyone looks like!” Jeff smoothly input, pivoting immediately around to his friend. “Gareth is naked mole rat.”

“A WHAT?!” All of the boys erupted into laughter, expect for Gareth who was hitting Jeff with a book. Even Eddie’s chorus rang out behind you and you loved that sound. But oh God.

A cold slimy feeling ran down your throat and seemed to climb up your spine in canon. This game would not be for you. You know you struggle with self-esteem issues, you realise that. Sometimes you felt bad even being in Eddie’s Hellfire logo shirt. It could feel too skin tight and suffocating, nothing to do with Eddie’s printing, but your own nauseating feeling like you somehow didn’t deserve to be wearing it.

You would really prefer if you guys could’ve just kept talking instead. If you could be chatting with Eddie right now, instead of standing here with literal goosebumps on your skin from the threat of this conversation. Would there be anyway you could get out of being picked at this that wouldn’t look odd? You weren’t sure.

Eddie crossed his arms, biting back a smile as he looked at his young warriors, Lucas energetically shaking Jeff and Mike who stood beside him. “Who should we do next?”

God you hoped they didn’t pick you. You knew Eddie wouldn’t be cruel, you knew he was a very empathetic guy, who from his own experiences, knew when words could hurt more than most. You loved that about him, and he loved that you could actually see how kind he could be, and not just because he had such kind eyes. Some of the things he told you in private, only you, were things only a genuinely emotionally intelligent person would know. And even though the other guys were your friends too, you dreaded the thought of them all staring at you and judging an animal from that. ...What would they even pick?

‘A slug.’ Is what popped into your mind. But you shudder, hating yourself for thinking that way. And hating yourself because you almost believe that is an animal you could resemble. It’s stupid. You have to clear the thought away immediately, focus on something, Eddie’s smile at liking this new game, just so you didn’t actually think hard about what you could argue might’ve been an intrusive thought. If you think too hard on it, you’ll bring yourself down and you can’t do that around the others, it’ll just bring them down too.

“Dustin... Dustin...” Mike pondered, now realising he got to make fun of his best friends too.

“Oh shit. Yeah, Dustin...?” Lucas piped up, swivelling more to his side as they both, all of you, stared down your cap wearing friend.

Mike continued. “Hmm... Dustin.”

“You guys better be careful.” Dustin warned, holding up a karate chop hand to show he was serious, making you and Eddie giggle into each other.

Into each other! Your giggles shifted your bodies about until Eddie’s shoulder was leaning against yours. And he stayed in that position! Normally you wouldn’t be this excited because you were physically close as friends, it wasn’t unusual, but when your heart’s already going, everything seemed bigger. You tried desperately not to move, self conscious about your own breathing now, was it rubbing Eddie the wrong way, was it loud? Nasally? And oh my god this is an uncomfy position. Did you look unnatural positioned like this? Like you just wanna touch Eddie? Which is ridiculous because you touch him all the time! You literally hugged this morning. And Eddie held your high five after he’d graced you with one, swinging your hands down and wrapping it in his own as he continued his description of the, courtesy of you, slain goblin. Swinging your hand for a few seconds so it was enough to be causal, not enough for someone to call anyone out on, but enough to be long enough to make you question. And have something to giggle over in bed that night when you thought about it.

Mike and Lucas just laughed at Dustin’s display, before the former decided. “An ostrich.”

It seemed to not be anything Dustin was expecting at least, if his whole body leaning back was enough to tell. “An ostrich? Why the shit?”

“I don’t know” Mike fake stroked his chin, Lucas following in suit as all the members now tried to see the relation in the curly haired boy. “It’s something to do with the eyes. Too beady, too... untrustworthy.”

Dustin scoffed. And there was silence, only for a few seconds in the club room, which was still rare. But everyone was busy contemplating Dustin. Until Gareth spoke calmly. “Jeff’s a blobfish.”

“What the hell is a blobfish?!” Jeff double taked, looking at his best friend incredulously.

“The ugliest animal in the world.” Everyone snickered. “We can probably find a pic of it in the library, if you’re okay breaking into the scary adults only section.”

You were part of the ensemble of laughs everyone gave, including Jeff’s cheerfully fake one before he tackled Gareth, noogieing him hard as the other boy cackled in his grip. You were glad everyone could joke around as friends like this. At first the guys were all a little nicer to you. The freshmen of the group were clearly already friends, as were Gareth and Jeff, but Eddie, even being friends with all of them, accepted you into his close circle almost immediately. You were glad when the guys realised they could just treat you like their other friends, they didn’t need to coddle you just because you were a girl. Although you were a little nervous about the rough housing around this topic.

Sure you could take some light teasing, you weren’t a baby, and you hazed the guys right back, but you had a feeling whichever animal they all said looked like you, is something that’s going to be spiralling into the back of your mind quickly. And you were a bit nervous for any disatourous consequences that could come of that.

The two band members were getting a little rougher, still laughing away, but knocking into the table now. The freshmen all eagerly cheering them on. And even though the session was over, the pieces were about to be put away from their strategic positions on the map, Eddie still raised his hand as he watched his beloved hand painted figures topple.

“Hey hey HEY!” Eddie called out, his hand spread out and everyone, you included, falling into silence under your leader, a smile on his face that got you all invested in whatever wise words he’d say. “I’m the dungeon master here!” Eddie threw both his arms wide open dramatically now, smiling fiercely at his little group. “Have you all forgotten who’s God when you’re wearing those shirts?” He scoffed at the guys who were settling down, smiling to you as you watched them all fall in line, his hair bouncing as he rolled his eyes with his whole head. It made you smile. “I’ll decide who’s what!”

Eddie dropped his arms once you all were grinning, eagerly waiting for him to cast his opinions. And firstly, Eddie turned on his heel to you. Both his feet plopped in place firmly, hands swinging behind his back as he hummed to your self, looking you up and down.

Now your heart was truly pounding. You hid the worry on your face easily, just smiling back with such a nice look that it almost was daring him to be mean to someone so loveable, and loyal in your group.

Finally Eddie resigned, with a hand extending to yours, smiling with heart as he finally got the animal he was searching for. “For y/n... a swan.”

Now that hadn’t been what you were expecting. You could feel your head flinch back from the unexpected declaration. For a moment you tried to decipher if there was anything physically about you that was truly swan like that surpassed all the, well, you. But coming up with a blank for that, you felt your heart spike in the good way you’d only felt around Eddie in recent years. A genuine smile crept onto your features and this time you didn’t hold it back.

You and Eddie were still looking right at each other, and he grinned as he saw you spark up at the name. But before you could ask, in a voice you dreadfully knew would be smaller and higher pitched than your usual but you for once didn’t care about, Mike popped up with a question of his own to your dm.

“Soooo, is that because of the ugly duckling thing, orrrr?..”

The rest of the club burst into laughter, Mike more than anyone, looking to you with pride at his jab. You guys did tease each other quite a lot, it helped solidify a lot of friendships early on. The only one who didn’t laugh was Eddie.

You’d laughed at their joke. Not in a large way, but you pointed your finger and stretched out as if to hit their shoulders as they teased, but you laughed along with your friends in their game. Even though as soon as the joke left Mike’s mouth, and the laughter started up, you felt a stabbing pain, starting from your heart, wreaking havoc all over your body. In your life you’d gotten used to laughing after a while, you knew it was easier for everyone else. And it was easier for you if you just played along and didn’t make them uncomfortable. ’Ugly duckling...’ you thought, ’couldn’t have picked better myself. My friends clearly know me so well.’ A glum cloud was moving over you.

Eddie wasn’t too thrilled though. “Hey knock that shit off.” He growled warningly at Mike, who only raised in hands in fake surrender before bringing them to his knees to laugh again. Eddie telling them off almost made it funnier to them. Well, his reactions did really.

With Eddie’s eyes on Mike and Lucas, Gareth raised his hand behind Eddie’s back quickly “Have you turned into the pretty swan yet?”

He yelped and ran as Eddie span around to whack upside his head, hiding behind Jeff with a playfully startled look on his face. Like a dog wanting to play chase.

You didn’t answer his question, and you didn’t even have to laugh as everyone’s attention was on the scene Gareth was making with Eddie. It allowed you to just sink into the background, wishing the shadowy room, a perfect set up by Eddie, the auteur of Hellfire Club, would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to grin till your cheeks hurt, and hide the redness you knew would eventually stain your eyes.

“No I meant swan! Just swan!” Eddie whipped his explanation to the room, frustrated everyone was making such a big deal about what was supposed to be his compliment to you, twisting his words like everyone else in town did. Except this time it made his heart hammer like it hadn’t since he’d accepted the fact nearly everyone hated him, because you were on the receiving end, and not him. “That’s not what I mea- shut up you guys!” His eyes found yours now, and you were just standing exactly where you were before, a neutral look plastered across your expression, minus your upper lip you sucked in.

“You have never been, and are not, an ugly duckling.”

There was a pregnant pause. Your wide eyes were held on Eddie’s soft ones, one hand pressed out to you, the other behind him where the majority of the guys were, like he was trying to forcefully separate you from the bullies, even if they did think it was all joking, and you thought he knew you wouldn’t try and distance those opinions yourself, from the way he kept looking at you. His own lips mirrored yours, the only movement in the room apart from his chest rising and falling as he breathed, sucking it in as he waited for you. He hadn’t meant to start any type of conversation like this, and you knew he didn’t like where it’d gone. With just a few moments of him watching you like that, you felt a small smile start to tug at your lips where they were previously tucked away, heartbeat softening under his gaze and words.

That was until words not spoken by Eddie, broke the graceful moment supposendly only noticed between the two of you.

“Like... so what, is y/n aging backwards, orrrr??” Dustin asked the group, snapping the silence of the room. It was quickly completely shattered as everyone praised Dustin for his comeback. You watched Eddie’s shoulders fall in a sigh, squinting his eyes just a little harder than usual.

Your stomach flipped as the boy you almost felt was a little brother to you cut you deep.

Great, even Dustin was properly joining in now. His words almost stung the most. But even as your brain thought that, your heart thought another thing ’not him too...’

“Seriously, knock it off!“ Eddie growled deeply at his members, more firm than the last time he said it. But the guys just didn’t get it. They weren’t taking him seriously, they didn’t realise they were supposed to. Dustin hadn’t even looked at Eddie, he just kept waiting for you.

And when his big goofy grin was looking to yours, and the others as he got such an uproarious reaction to his joke, Eddie being ignored, your own practice perfect smile reacted too. “Oh not you as well?” You rolled your eyes, thankful it gave you an excuse to blink any wateriness away. “Shit Dustin, I thought at least you’d be on my side?”

“I am.” Dustin nodded, feigning seriousness in a straight pose as he embellished upon his joke. “It’s therapeutic for people to not live in denial after a while.”

You laughed again, giving a small punch to his shoulder as you were half relieved that your serious words came in a light enough tone that no one could decipher them. The other part of you begged them to realise this was too much. That they were hurting you. But you knew you couldn’t handle that. If you started acting like a baby, acting out against their words like a brat who couldn’t take it, they’d all just pause and stare at you, even Eddie. None of them would know what to say and you’d have ruined everything by making it awkward. The ugliest animal thing earlier showed they were all joking as friends, but you couldn’t apparently take a joke. They were all good kids, and your friends. They couldn’t help your uncomfortable truth.

“Has it happened yet in that case?” Mike faux whispered to the other younger boys, slinking away a little with a giggle as Eddie stepped closer, chin out and teeth gritted in frustration.

You couldn’t see that though from your vantage point at the other side of the end of the table. You managed a chuckle at Mike’s add on, it was smaller than your laughs before. You didn’t really know how to react now that Eddie was sticking up for you the way he was, but even that small laugh was enough to bring Eddie physically back to you.

“Y/n you don’t have to laugh,” Eddie told you, eyes twitching downwards in sadness. Why weren’t you discouraging them? “Guys, shut the fuck up already.” He told them off, stepping closer to your side whilst he glared at them.

You felt something in your jaw twitch, a muscle or something, and you hoped Eddie didn’t hear the sound your throat made in response. You leant closer to his warmth, not touching him yet as his slightly widening nostrils made his breathing audible to you, but your jacket material brushed agaisnt his own. “It’s fine Eddie, don’t w-“

“No it’s not y/n.” Eddie quickly interrupted you, looking down at you with a softer glance, even though he’d snapped his disapproving look from the boys in under a second. He still looked disappointed at you though. Although you weren’t sure if he’d had time to control that look aimed at them, or if it was your fault.

You were stunned into silence. You almost felt ashamed, bowing your head as you looked at Eddie’s feet, noticing them shuffling nearer to you. He didn’t solidly touch you yet, but his arm and left side was slightly behind you now, closer like this. You didn’t think the guys were making that much of a big deal, especially since in this case, part of you knew they were truly joking. But the words they spoke still came out. You weren’t expecting Eddie to really defend you, not when you didn’t even try and defend yourself anymore, not even subconsciously. It felt... warm, that he did though.

In the tiniest of movements, you leant your back into his torso.

Your back only grazed against his cotton shirt, but it still felt better than before. Better than most things.

“C’mon, it’s not like she’s gonna start sprouting white feathers any time soon!” Mike retaliated against Eddie in a brave offence.

Your instinct is almost to laugh again. But Eddie’s was to drop his hands onto your shoulders, and that touch completely whirlwinded your thoughts, as well as snapping you out of that learnt behaviour. Things were different when Eddie was behind you. After a few seconds of them still laughing, Eddie began gently rubbing your shoulders. You didn’t think this was because they were still laughing at you. Eddie just naturally fell into it. It felt too good as he rubbed his hands quickly up and down the top of them, the friction buzzing beneath your skin in a way that made you feel heated in your face and chest, not in a way that made you want to itch your skin off, for how disgusting your body felt it was. Eddie was now fully behind you, but his head still leant over yours as he spoke. You felt shrouded by him, including, from your own umbrella of thoughts. “Don’t pay any attention to those shitheads y/n.” He commanded you.

You meant to nod. Really. You meant to show Eddie that you were strong. You were good and could do what he asked. But instead, with the soft weight of Eddie’s palms rolling against your skin, your body gave off more of a defeated shrug. Maybe that’s what your mind intended your body to show anyway. Even with Eddie’s support. Something you didn’t know you needed quite this much, even if you were having somewhat of a hard time properly accepting it.

That seemed to do it for Eddie. He peered down at you, leaning more to the side. You had to look away after a certain point, when his eyes grew scared, it was like he could see right into you. His voice was stable as he moved in front of you, hands still clapsed to your shoulders, and eyes full with hurt. “Stop that y/n, you’re beautiful.”

Loud enough that the club members could hear. Which was in Eddie’s plan. He just wasn’t thinking super far ahead, his chest squeezing for a second too hard, when after a small obvious pause the guys all called out in unison. “Ooooooh!”

They all started teasing him. At a similar level they were doing so to you. And you didn’t miss the sudden panic that hit Eddie’s eyes, especially as his hands dropped from your body, twiddling his own rings instead. “Well you know not beautiful I didn’t mean it like that I just m-me-meant...”

You guessed it wasn’t worth defending you at this point. Now more than ever you had to keep in control of your face, with Eddie looking at you still stumbling over his own words. His confidence quickly fading.

And while it hurt hearing him call you that initially, ’beautiful’, even though you knew something was wrong with you that that did hurt, it hurt even more when he said you weren’t.

And you knew that was stupid. That wasn’t what he meant, he just didn’t want you to think he was hitting on you inappropriately or anything (or at all). He didn’t want the guys teasing you about him having a crush. Especially when he almost definitely didn’t, so Eddie would’ve found it annoying you were sure. That bad part of your brain still took what it could grab at though. Eddie did not mean to say you were beautiful, he didn’t think that was true at all.

Probably only said it to shut up your blabbering for a second. You were that pathetic, just bringing the vibe down for everyone, so much Eddie had to lie. Good job he quickly redacted it you guessed. At least he still had his values there.

Wallowing in your own self-misery, something Eddie was very clealry not missing, he was shook out of his concern for you by Gareth sticking his tongue out at him. “C’mon Eddie, you’re never this nice to us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes back with a dramatic grunt to him. “Yeah well that’s because I actually like y/n! Y/n is actually nice.” He turned back to you, still concerned that you weren’t looking at anyone’s face, not even his as he tried to grab your attention. Only his kept being stolen back by those little pricks.

“Is it because y/n’s the only girl in the group?” Lucas asked, getting a “Yeah Eddie. Is it?” From Dustin as back up.

Eddie grit his teeth, shaking his head in frustration. Talk to you, get them to back off, get you to look at him, talk to his group. “No-“

“Well it has to be something.” Jeff suggests, earning a snicker from Gareth.

“Look, you’re all assholes.” Eddie chides. Not in a super serious way, but letting them know he was getting tired of dealing with their bull. He was trying to shut them down, at least get them to talk amongst themselves so he could have you. But as soon as his head snapped back to you, everyone’s went to Gareth, as his digital watch started to beep.

Eddie’s heart sunk, and yours fluttered in relief mixed with discomfort. Time to leave.

Everyone started packing up. Eddie quickly shoving all his things into his bag because leaving them there was a death wish for any figurines or other creations, but he didn’t want to get caught behind by everyone else’s cleaning up.

Dustin hit your arm lightly only to snicker at you when you looked up. You laughed along with the joke. Your head was red because you were bending at an angle under the table to quickly pack your bag. No other reason.

At least with the growing members, no one would notice if you didn’t talk to anyone on the short way out of school. You hoped.

All of you flooded out the theatre rooms door, the club chattering amongst themselves down the empty hallway as you tried to keep your head buried even further now, in less dim light. Although the sudden change of leaving had given you a small spark of rejuvenation, that you were riding out so as not to cry. Eddie was sticking close by you, not talking to the others either, but apart from your mouth breathing you were doing, which you had to keep up to stop from fully cracking, you tried to act normal.

And considering both of you were surrounded by the group walking to the exit doors, Eddie didn’t try and talk to you until you all dispersed there. Even though you were the only thing he looked at the entire walk.

Exiting into the Indiana sun, that was definitely about to start setting with how late the session had gone, the rest of the members started going to their methods of transportation, the parking lot pretty silent as most clubs finished at a reasonable and precise time. Unlike Hellfire.

The kids had their bikes to haul back today, and Gareth’s mom was picking him and Jeff up, so it meant Eddie had a free seat. Not that he wouldn’t be driving you, or anyone, in the back of his van anyways. “Hey, do you need a ride home?” Eddie offered, trying to act causal like he could tell you wanted, but the inside of his mind buzzing with ’Please say yes, please ride with me so we can talk.’

But you quickly shut that down, panic evident on your face, which Eddie hated to see, as you quickly spoke out “My mom’s picking me up.” Too quickly for normal.

Eddie opened his mouth again, just letting it take over what he was next to say without his mind’s involvement, a bit like you clearly were, but as he did, you both spot about the only car rolling outside.

Heart dropping disappointed, Eddie put on a small smile as he waved to your mom through her window, just as you started to run over, not even saying bye to Eddie. Not even hugging him goodbye... which he looked forward to every single day. You hugging him hello and goodbye were the only hugs, the only true physical affection, Eddie really ever got. And he didn’t get it today.

But all he could do was keep waving, not able to see if anyone was waving back thanks to the sun’s reflection on the car window, as he was forced to watch you driving away...

You hated that you had school the next day. You almost wanted to take the day off, you had the very real stomach ache as an excuse. Plus the fatigue from staying up until 2am - it was hard to sleep when all you could do was cry. Scared about what Eddie was thinking right now, knowing he’d be up. How all your friends see you. Would they see you any differently today?

But there came the cost of not showing up, and them possibly figuring out you were hurt by yesterday. Then you holding in your crying the afternoon before was pointless, because they’d all know you’re a baby who makes her friends feel bad. God you hated how anxiety made every decision feel like a crappy one.

But you decided to go to school, prove to yourself that you were brave and not stupid. Even if you still secretly planned to avoid Hellfire as much as possible. Wherever physically, and in places like shared classes with Eddie (in which being the only two to share desks previously always seemed like a blessing), and lunch with all of them, you’d just have to practice avoidance by being quieter.

Unfortunately, none of this was on the table for you.

You got out your moms car and started to walk up to the school doors, busting through the ones closest to your lockers like you did every day, only for your heart to freeze and constrict in your chest, at seeing a pained looking Eddie leaning against your locker.

He was looking every which way, peering over most students heads. And you quickly made the decision to let autopilot run free on your body so you could continue your usual walk up, before Eddie could see you just stood stiff staring at him. Not weird at all. You trudged on.

Eddie’s face lit up when he saw you, but not in the usual happy way. It was more of a relieved look this time. He waved you over though, his curled hand raised above people but not shouting for your attention, which was a bit lower profile for the metal head than usual. You managed a small smile, taking a breath you knew you’d need, as Eddie managed to give a smile that looked all to much like your own as you swanned closer. “Hey princess.” He breathed out, calmer than he looked before.

As much as that nickname made your heart beat faster, you were distracted by the fading smell of smoke on him, and a small frown twisted onto your features, as Eddie only usually smoked right before classes when he was stressed, and needed a cigarette. Oh no, you hoped he was okay.

Eddie pretty much blocked you off from the rest of the school goers, and the world, as you got to your locker. Scooting over because he was literally leaning on yours, his hand moving to rest one to the left, but his entire body leant behind you, a breath as relieved as his smile leaving his lips as he could finally look over you. “I’m so glad you’re in today.”

Your face burned, heart swelling and tingly.

“I mean, I was worried you weren’t gonna show. I was totally gonna ditch and steal your neighbours ladder to check up on you though, if you didn’t.”

You heart was palpitating now, your lips opening into a small fish like shape as you blinked furiously, charmed. Eddie would’ve climbed through your window to check up on you if you’d missed school? How long was he worrying about you? How long had he planned that?

The gesture was so sweet, too sweet to you, electricity stormed through your stomach and your legs, not sure whether to smile or bury everything down deeper because you knew negative feelings were still being held back by a very thin damn. You turned to your locker, keeping a side eye on Eddie as you spoke, organising your books. “I’m fine. I promise. Why wouldn’t I be Eddie?”

It didn’t sound like you were faking. But that’s because it didn’t come out sounding causal at all. Like you weren’t even trying to be convincing. It sounded like you truly didn’t mean any of that and the both of you knew it too well.

’Maybe he just wanted to skip school’ floated briefly through your mind.

Eddie clicked his tongue, unseen to you, running his sweaty palms against the skin and denim of his ripped black jeans. “Well, after yesterday, you seemed a bit upset. Which was fair. I know they were just messing around because you’re their friend, but the guys were being total assholes and losers.”

Fair? Eddie thought you were okay being upset? You knew it was true, realistically. Of course you were allowed to feel upset. But it just felt so... comforting, to have Eddie confirm that for you in his own way, without any prior prodding. It was just a genuine declaration of how he felt.

“O-Oh.”

That wasn’t being hidden from Eddie. The crowd of pupils and teachers was thinning, but Eddie still drew closer, a shield against all those people, the noise of outside the two of you. People could be mean to you guys, mostly him, and he hated the fact people were only mean to you because you were friends with him, so he just wanted a break from that so he could focus on you right now. His face furrowed, already fallen like before he’d even seen you, lips twisting every which way and being bitten on the inside.

“W- uhh, thank you. That’s really nice of you... But yeah, um, I’m fine. No need to worry, honest!”

“Are you being honest though?”

Eddie leant closer and his breath on the nape of your neck drew a loud shudder of a gasp. You turned around quickly, only to be even more intimated at his determined look, now you two were front to front. Your back closed your locker for you, bag dead by your shoes.

“Uhhhh I-“

Eddie put his thumb to your lips, his hand following after and oh so gently cupping your chin. You couldn’t even breathe at this point, too scared to, and Eddie had this geuinine look in his eyes, emotions full in the dark brown, that you didn’t know what to do with. “Y/n please talk to me. You’re my best friend, right? I know you were lying yesterday when you laughed with the guys and I don’t think...” Eddie struggled when he didn’t let his heart run with the words, tongue flicking against his lips as it usually did, while his thumb still graced yours. “I don’t think they were playing along with me.”

In Eddie’s head it made sense. But it had yet to be translated to you. Instead, it was taken as wrong. “Oh? And what game were you playing?” You spoke, lightly unable to avoid brushing against his warm finger.

“No I’m not playing a game I just mean...” Eddie sighed, his brown puppy eyes so sad, as they held yours. Everyone had gone to class now, no one bothering to remind you two of the last bell. “I mean the guys and I... no fuck, hold on.” Eddie inhaled through his teeth, his hand finally leaving your face, which at least allowed you to breathe, but made you feel solemn and hollow at the same time.

Eddie was level with you. Looking like the normal boy you knew he was, who could feel unsure, and scared, and nervous. His ringed hands wrung together, swearing to himself as he tried to hold your eyes in his, desperate for you to stay right now. “I think- I mean I know, I see you differently than them...”

Eddie’s hand braced his chest as he said that, staying splayed there over his white Hellfire shirt. Meanwhile you were overlooking your flustered crush, rolling your shoulders as you exhaled unsurely through your nose. It made you nervous having a one on one conversation with Eddie that was so serious. No distractions. And seeing him so flustered and open was a vulnerable side you’d seen before, but not when you both felt this exposed, with something you were so hesitant to say. You bit your lip, only realising for a split second after that Eddie’s thumb had been on there, but you pushed that thought aside for later as you watched his tongue almost reaching the top of his nose again, sticking out like that nervously. About as on the spot as you felt.

“So... you see me as a swan and they see me as the ugly duckling?” You asked unsure, flinching back and feeling bad when Eddie winced harshly at your words. Shaking his head vigorously. Voice cracking a little through the first few words.

“No! Fuck no, that’s not. That’s not even true what they said y/n! They were just trying to find a joke and they locked onto it, they don’t think anyone looks like what they said, Jesus H Christ none of us look like animals. Least of all you y/n!”

You blinked away the last sentence, pinning it again for later, like your brain couldn’t be split between conflicting emotions, but unfortunately was picking the negative ones to experience now. The negative ones to experience with Eddie, and the positive ones for when you were alone. Christ couldn’t you be positive and happy when you were around people you loved instead today? “Look I’m not mad at them okay Eddie?” You spoke up. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to yell at them or something for me. I mean I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, it made me feel nice but-“

“What? I’m not mad. Y/n-“ Eddie strode close and took your hands softly in his, flipping them over and grazing them in his own calloused touch, holding them warmly. “I’m not even trying to talk about them right now. They were being little dicks yesterday but they were just messing around. You know I know you’re beautiful don’t you? I mean, I do have eyes.” He chuckled softly only on that last sentence. The first and only time he hadn’t seemed serious apart from when he finally saw you. Almost like you relaxed him, made him feel good, better.

But now your brain was pushing away the positivity, that was becoming more in volume than the negativity, on purpose. Because it stuck onto one part that it could warp, and stab into you like a knife.

“Look Eddie I really appreciate you, and you know I love you.” You squeezed his hands softly, and Eddie looked like he was melting at your touch. His cheeks seemed softer, slightly pinker as they raised in an honest to god smile, medium sized, but perfect to the situation. And you both took a step closer to the other, not knowing each other would do the same. Still a parting, but wrists resting on your own stomachs. “But you don’t have to say that, I know yesterday you got kinda screwed over and tried to take it back and it’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad or-“

“Y/n stop!!” Eddie snapped, shocking you a little as you jumped. Eddie held your hands closer in apology, pulling your wrists so near your hands were in his stomach now. “I mean Jesus Christ! Y/n. You are beautiful. I meant it yesterday and I mean it now. And I’ve always known it. Maybe I should’ve said it more but...” Eddie used one conjoined hand to shift back his curls in his face, huffing out quickly. You could feel how hot his poor forehead was becoming as he moved so.

“You are beautiful. You’re gorgeous.” His brown eyes looked deeply into yours, open, and face contorted in a mixture of confusion, but being pure, and fully unendingly loving, as he held you close. Hands smoothing down your shoulders, shaking as they tried to keep you from running, tried to soothe you into his words. Like a charm roll a bard would throw for a restless dragon.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever been graced enough to lay my fucking eyes on.” His tongue darted out, eyes blinking sheepishly as he kept looking right at you. “Why don’t you see that, all the time?” Pain and confusion. That’s what was in his voice. Love and fear mixed into all his touches, hands smoothing over your back and shoulder blades in his need to fidget and be touching you, someone he always wanted to never not be touching, ever since the moment you first lit up when talking to him. That’s the only thing he ever saw when he looked at you, and he just couldn’t fathom a world where you somehow didn’t see the exact same thing, staring blatantly obviously back.

“Because I’m not!” You wriggled harshly out of his grip, the genuine hurt in Eddie’s eyes, only fuelling the burst of passion you were having. “I’m not anything! I’m not anything good, Eddie!” You were yelling, no one had seen you yell before, least of all Eddie. And Eddie teetered on nervous feet, worried about reaching out for you, but scared of what you’d do if he didn’t ground you.

Your breath felt ragged, head pounding. “I look at myself, I think about myself, and all I can feel, is how ugly, and disgusting I am.”

Pure and simple shock was spread across Eddie’s features. The kind of disappointed shock where he couldn’t understand how, or why you’d ever felt this way. Eddie was heartbroken.

“Whenever I remember this body I’m in, I want to cry because I feel like nothing good is deserved for someone as fucked up as this. I feel sick in my own skin. Every cell of me feels wrong, and that’s how I live. Terrified that someone’s going to look at me, someone who’s seen me a thousand times, and suddenly see this me that’s just a monster when you look again.” Your hand was to your heart, and you were crying now. Tears itching that disgusting skin people should wash their hands after touching. God you felt awful getting it out there, this was bullshit.

Anger was about to start seeping into Eddie too, just a little, grief and heartbreak was overtaking him right now. “Is this to do with what the guys said?”

You were hyperventilating now. Very aware of breaking down in front of your crush, and unable to breathe because you were crying so hard. Terror striking you from speaking the truth, because your best friend would see you that way now. Upon his words, a gasp bubbles through the saliva in your throat, but before you could answer Eddie finshed.

“I’m going to knock their teeth in.” Eddie felt hot tears in his eyes. He’d let you go home thinking about this. You were hurting. “I don’t care that they’re stupid, I’m going to tell them all that-“

“No!” You finally got close to Eddie again, your hands the only strong part of either of you as you lightly gripped his forearm. “No it’s not their fault.” You knew Eddie would only drag them somewhere and knock their heads together, but you didn’t want him guilting your friends, you didn’t want them hurt. You didn’t want them to know either. “It’s not them. I’ve always felt like this.”

Eddie felt lost. Eddie was crushed. His whole face collapsing to show it. His tears dripped onto his shirt, defeated by them. The white staining in the hollow hallway as he just looked at you, about as broken as you feel. ”But why?”

Eddie was genuinely confused. And it made your heart skip. To the point it felt so good, it was painful.

This whole conversation was painful. Your head dropped as your tears slunk to the floor, Eddie gripping your wrists in return, before pulling you warmly into a hug. Eddie’s embrace so tight, so scared to break you but needing you to stay, safe, with him, so you wouldn’t. Eddie would never let you break. He promised to himself now to always pick up your pieces before you could fully fall apart. Eddie would never let that happen, not on his watch. Not when you were under his oath. He sniffed, licking up his tears as he nuzzled his cheek into your head. Dreaded mumbles falling from his lips with small cries. Even his hips pressed to yours, his feet entangling thoughtfully, so you couldn’t fall, or retreat, just hugging you.

“I just. I don’t know.” You sobbed once. “I’m sorry.”

“Ssh. Don’t you dare apologise.” Eddie stroked the wetness away from your head, into his hand. “I’ll kick your ass.” He kisses your head instead, heart delighting, but not enough to give a smile, as you laughed at that. Hearing your small purr of a giggle was enough to tell himself to keep going, that he was doing an alright job.

“Sorry.”

Eddie pressed a hard kiss into your temple, growling lightly at you. Clearly still teasing you though. For once you didn’t have a single fear Eddie was mad at you. You could just breathe out laughs, even as you were crying. “I don’t know. Don’t you see that? See that... see an ugly duckling, in me?” You asked genuinely. For once your brain didn’t give you a million versions of the future, you just felt blank as you waited for his answer. It was peaceful.

As Eddie thought, he grazed against your head. Lips nibbling your skin, and your hair caught there, laughing lightly back when he felt another round of your chuckles, vibrating through his own chest, his warm hand smoothing down your back. He loved that feeling. He always wanted to make you laugh, but now he resolved to do so as he had your chest pressed against him, all the time. “I’ve... since the first moment I saw you, I’ve always thought you were jaw-droppingly stunning.” He revealed.

You felt conflicted, your heart pulled, brain just... not able to picture him seeing you like that. But you knew he wasn’t finished, and he held you impossibly closer, always being able to tell what you were feeling, even if it could be irritatingly accurate.

“But... the more I fell in love with you, the more and more I just kept seeing you as someone so perfect, it felt like the sun lit up her hair through every window on purpose. To shine down on her specifically. That the weather was made that day, so she could wear an outfit that made your legs, and stomach, and arms, and hands, look so desirable to hold. Someone who’s smile literally made the people around her smile for the rest of their entire day, and how that kinda magic could only be possible from you. That every day I’d see a different person spin around and do a double take at you with that look on their face, that look because they know they’ve just walked past the most beautiful girl in the entire world, and they’ll never get that chance again to brush past your shoulder, and meet-cute you, ever. And that I’m the luckiest man on this earth, because somehow, through your own kindness, and through the wind and the sun and our peers and the earth beneath our feet and stardust that made everything, I was lucky enough to be someone, who gets to see someone so beautiful, every single day.”

Eddie breathed out. His brown eyes warm in yours. His touch craving. His body glowing after all that.

And there were no words. A white sheet in your mind and a white glow over your body. You only knew you felt light, you felt... right. And your heart was full. And the thing that kept circling over and over in your mind, finally spoke out.

“You love me?”

Eddie’s breath collapsed in his laugh. Full and hearty, and the tears in his eyes were now spilt because of how they crinkled, smile spreading to his cheeks and his warm palms cupped your own cheeks, like he was so grateful to be able to hold you safe like this, like he was so happy to have your face beating in his hands. “Of course I do. I love you y/n. I’m madly in love with you! I love you so much it’s consumed every part of me and it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you more than fucking anything! I love you more than anything y/n!”

“I love you too!” The air tasted different when you gasped, Eddie’s heart swelling was something you could see throughout his entire body, as his chest rose and his feet curled, and his eyes warmed, and his lips opened in such a smile. You took Eddie’s face in your own hands and everything fit together perfectly. He was so warm, so full of life, so Eddie, and so full of love for you. Eddie was the love of your life, and you could hold his tear ridden smile in your hands.

Eddie leant in close, using his hands to pull you further as his open lips spread, and your eyes fluttered stickily shut as you just smiled leaning in. Finally having his full, wet lips slotting against yours, and feeling each other’s smiles into the kiss, as you felt him kiss you like it was the best memory he’d ever make.

He pulled you in closer, almost tripping over your own feet as his hands on your cheek coerced you, but only one foot slipping, as you kissed him deeper. Lovingly moulding his lower lip that wanted to live in your mouth, and feeling his thick upper one kiss you back with so much deep adoration. Affection and love oozing out of Eddie as he kissed you happily. Sweet sounds coming from the both of you as your hands curled in his dark hair by his ears, and his cradled your nape and your lower back. Cheeks brushing and noses nuzzling, as you sweetly tasted each other, kissing like it was the only thing that was right in this world.

Finally, after stopping a little, and feeling Eddie’s nose nuzzle and brush at you in return, you pulled back. Eddie having literally stolen your breath away. You both backed up just an inch, just enough to see each other, and you were both beaming smiles through the warm sun rays. Eddie leant in to kiss you again, this time a small peck that you reciprocated, both his lips sweetly pressing against yours, and you could just tell they were Eddie Munson’s lips.

A noise of deep happiness and satisfaction finally broke the air and Eddie couldn’t help but nose at your cheek playfully again. “That was even better than I imagined.” He fondly grinned.

You tilted your head, wrapping both your arms around Eddie’s neck, as you felt a different energy, making a home in your new home. “You imagined kissing me before?”

Eddie went momentarily bright red. Before he remembered it was you he was with, and it was okay to be this vulnerable because you loved him too. “‘F course!” He sang. “Although minus the crying.”

You burst into laughter, Eddie following along as you rubbed at your drying tears, stomach fluttering as Eddie’s calloused fingers went to softly swipe at your cheekbones instead, the warm metal of his rings from how clammy his hands were, actually feeling nice as he brushed them away, “Pretty princess...” Getting at his own tears with his sleeve before you could return the favour. “Yeah.” He took both your cheeks in his hands again, before he leaned in to kiss you once more. Then your two red cheeks, and he leaned back and smiled, then both your eyes, still smiling, as he just had to look at you again “Can’t have my gorgeous girl crying. Never.”

Somehow, that didn’t start it again. Your lip wobbled but no tears came, only as Eddie kissed your nose fondly, was your movement to hold his face back, squeezing those adorable cheeks as you kissed all over his face. Every single inch got covered in your loving kisses, and feeling Eddie’s excited giggles fanning so close on your skin just made you kiss his lips over, and over, and over, and Eddie kiss yours, over, and over again. Your “I love you Eddie”’s being caught in between each and every kiss. Only stopping when Eddie pulled back to look at you, so happy in his hand, so he could smile at the sight of you. “My beautiful y/n.”

You two both skipped school that day eventually anyways. Only this time, as you walked hand in loveable hand down the empty hallways, not looking at each other only and purely because you were too busy kissing to have your eyes open, you were leaving to spend your first moments together as a couple.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson angst #Eddie Munson hurt/comfort #protective eddie munson #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #Stranger Things #Hellfire Club #fic #dustin henderson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #slight miscommunication #crush Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fluff #negative body image issues #Eddie Munson/reader

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trippinsorrows · 9 months ago

Text

with me + part eleven

authors note: hi! i'm super sorry for the cliffhanger! i just have this thing where i need sections to be cohesive, and this chapter is much heavier than the previous, so i didn't wanna boggle ya'll down with all that angst!

i've also been thinking about the length of this story. currently, in terms of story timeline, we're at the very end of december 23', and i have ideas for up to may 24'. well, beyond that, but i don't want things to get stale, so i can end it around that time or keep it going? just curious because i don't want it to play out so long that it bores anyone. if that makes sense. just lmk.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angsttttt (parental neglect, abandonment, trauma) language, alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, some fluff

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 6.2k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You knew as soon as he walked in that something was up.

In getting to know Joe, you’d also learned that he was, surprisingly, on the quiet side. He spoke with you, of course, but you learned he leaned more towards introverted than extroverted. It was kind of sweet and pretty surprising. But, you’d also learned there was a difference between him being his sometimes quiet self and when something was off, and something was definitely off.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to fuck it out of you?” He rolls his eyes, not even showing any excitement at the idea of fucking you. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. “Seriously, what’s up?”

He shrugs, playing it off clearly. “Just tired. Back to back matches.”

That's when you realize what it is. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, dismissively, and you cross your arms. “Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“Take it off, or I’ll climb your big ass and take it off myself.” Joe blows out a breath. He has to know you’re dead serious. So, wordlessly, he lifts his shirt over his head and turns around.

You gasp almost immediately. “What the actual fuck?” Your hand reaches to touch him, but you stop yourself, knowing that his skin must be sensitive to the touch. His back is inflamed, red welts spread in different areas with a nasty bruise that looks like a borderline hematoma and other various cuts.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Shaking your head, you point to your room. “Go sit and wait for me on the bed.” He opens his mouth, and you lift a finger. “I don’t want to hear it. Get in there now.”

Surprisingly, he follows suit, and you start to move about, gathering the necessary supplies. Along the way, you experience a plethora of emotions but mostly bounce back and forth between irritation and concern.

You’re irritated that he didn’t just come out and say that he was hurt. You’re also concerned because he’s obviously in pain, and that bothers you. He doesn’t have to be, he didn’t have to be if he just said something.

Stubborn asshole.

With everything needed and placed in a cloth bag, you walk into your room and stretch your hand out to him. “Take this.”

Joe looks down at your open palm with a single pink pill. “What the hell is it?”

“Coke,” you answer with a straight face. Rolling your eyes, you answer, “Benadryl. It’ll help with the inflammation of the welts.”

“It’ll also knock me out.”

“We’ll we’re obviously not fucking with your back all messed up, so what else are you going to do?”

“Who said we can’t fuck?”

You sigh. “Joe, if you don’t just take this goddamn pill. With your size, you probably should take two, but I’m trying to be nice by only giving you one, so accept my kindness and swallow this damn pill or I’ll shove it down your throat.”

He sucks his teeth but also takes the pill from you followed by the water bottle tucked under your arm. “You’re a terrible nurse.”

“And you’re an awful patient. At least we’re both on the same page.” You wait for him to swallow it before taking the bottle from him. “Good, now lay on your stomach.”

He lifts his brow, asking, “why?”

“Oh my god, you’re as bad as my students.” Men when they’re sick or not feeling well are a special kind of torture you’re not sure why exactly you’re subjecting yourself to right now. “Just do it, please. I’m trying to help you here.”

He just looks at you, as if he has something else to say, probably so. But, he surprises you by staying silent and following your instructions.

Pleased, you climb on top of him, sitting on his ass to avoid irritating his already sensitive skin. “Okay, now this may hurt a little bit at first—”

He makes a sound underneath you. “Can’t hurt anymore than it already does.”

“If you had said something sooner, I could have helped you before now,” you scold, dropping the bag on the bed beside ya’ll. Men and their tendency to downplay pain will never cease to amaze you. The minute you start getting hit with cramps, you pop an ibuprofen.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“You’re in pain. That’s always a big deal.” Pulling out the ointment, you dab enough to your hand and start carefully massaging it into the welts. He hisses at your touch and you murmur an apology but don’t stop. It’s short term discomfort for long term benefits.

“What is this?” He asks.

“Calamine lotion,” you answer, adding on. “I have hydrocortisone too, but my grandma always said calamine works just as well without getting into your bloodstream. Don’t know how true it is, but it always worked for me, so it’ll work for you.”

He chuckles. “She sounded fun.”

Instantly, a smile is on your face as you continue to treat him. “Always. Summers with her were always the highlight of my year.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, and you continue to work the lotion into his skin. Once pleased with the application, you move on to the next part. “Alright, I’m gonna apply some cold compresses. You’ll probably be out in another 20 minutes, so just leave em’ on, and I’ll come change em’ out while you’re sleeping.”

When he doesn’t push back, you pull the compresses out of your bag and strategically place them on different areas of his back to maximize the comfort. Once finished, you climb off of him and go to close up the blinds and curtains. “Alright, get some rest.”

You’re at the doorway when he says your name. “Yeah?”

A slight delay before he says, genuinely, “thank you.”

There’s something meaningful beyond just the obvious, and it brings a small smile to your face. Not that he can see that. So you settle on, “of course. You’re no good to me if you can’t fuck me.”

He laughs, loudly. “Shut up.”

Smile widening, you close the door. ________

Joe finds you a couple hours later in the kitchen, but it’s the state of you that gives him a pause and brings a smile to his face.

You’re dancing around, clad in one of his shirts and short shorts that your ass swallows up. Brief glimpses of your side profile reveal that you’re singing too, just in a low enough voice, probably not to disturb you.

He doesn’t know the specific song, but the voice is familiar enough for him to know it’s Taylor Swift. That definitely surprises him, though it shouldn’t. You have a weird ass taste in music to where he’s found you in the shower listening to some random rock song, other times, it was throwback R&B.

You were just so….different from anyone he’s ever known.

It’s one of the many reasons he’s so enamored with you.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile

It’s when you turn around, mid bite on a cookie that you finally notice his presence, smiling. “Hey. You’re up.”

“I am.” He nods, walking over to you. He gestures around the kitchen. “What is all this?”

You finish chewing and swallow before directing Alexa to pause the music. “Well, I finished my lesson planning and was bored, so I decided to bake. But then I got hungry for actual food, so I ordered takeout.”

“And the music?”

You shrug, taking another bite of your cookie. “I like the song. Don’t worry, it’s the only Taylor Swift song allowed in this African American household.”

He laughs and moves past you when you take the chance to assess his back, immediately noticing how the swelling and redness have decreased. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he answers, moving to the cartons, seeing that you made sure to order his favorites as well. “Thanks again.”

Smirking, you climb on the island, locking your ankles together. “Not so terrible nurse after all then, huh?”

“Your bedside manners still suck.”

“Shut up.” You watch him fix his food and when he gets ready to sit down on a bar stool, you hop off the counter, prompting, “come with me.”

“Where?”

“All these damn questions….” Grabbing a couple of cookies and placing them in a bowl, you find your sandals and slide them on your feet. “Just come on.”

“Let me at least put a shirt on.”

“Absolutely not. You need to let your skin breathe,” you lecture, taking him in, all of him. “Trust me, no one’s gonna see us, and even if they did, who the hell would complain about you being shirtless?”

Snatching the keys off the table, you open the door, allowing him to walk out first. You start to leave your door unlocked but decide against it. It’s an extremely safe town, but there’s always a first time for everything.

Locking it, you motion for him to follow you up the two sets of steps until reaching the heavy door that you turn the knob left and then right in order to open it. Joe’s immediately hit with a nice breeze and diminishing sunlight as the evening sets in.

“Come on,” you usher him to follow you to your favorite spot, sitting down and patting down on the ground next to you.

Joe chuckles, following suit. “Seriously?”

You ignore him, pushing on his shoulder as he brings his plate in front of him to eat. “I like to come out here sometimes to just get away. Especially if I need to clear my head. My grandma used to always say the closer you are to Heaven, the clearer you can hear God’s voice.”

He just watches you, the way the wind blows at your curls, making them splash at your face. Everything about you has always been stunning to him, but in this moment where you sit so relaxed and unbothered, he’s never thought you looked more beautiful.

“Plus, you obviously need to clear your head to bounce back from that ass whooping,” you snort, taking another bite of your cookie. One look at Joe’s scowl makes you giggle. “On one hand, it’s crazy to me you put your body through so much, but I also recognize your passion and dedication. So, I get it. I was an athlete too. Love of the game type shit.”

You can’t say that you would have ever continued to cheer if it left you the way Joe would come to you sometimes, but as someone who’s been in a similar situation, you understand it. And it’s so much more than just a job to him. It’s a legacy, in his bloodline. All he knows.

All he wants.

So, you support him.

You’ll always support him.

________

There’s the initial chaos that ensues in the minutes after your departure. Callie’s confusion. Joe’s confusion. Bianca’s utter confusion. And as Callie is right there, Joe can’t go immediately after you. He can’t and won’t leave her, so he does the best he can, offering apologies to Bianca and Co. before taking Callie and finding your mom who was catching up with an old friend in another part of the show.

He has some level of difficulty explaining what happened, other than the fact that you’d run off and he needed to find you. It’s really all of the information that he has to go off of, and when he’s finally able to get back to the apartment where he thinks you probably went. He's disappointed to find it empty. There’s brief moment of panic.

Just where the hell would you go?

He pulls out his phone to check again if you’ll pick up, but it goes straight to voicemail. He then starts to call your mom to ask her if she had any idea where you would be when he thinks about what happened. You were upset, very much so.

You needed to clear your head.

He knows exactly where you are.

On that same roof he sat on with you years prior is where Joe finds you, but what he doesn’t expect is the bottle of Hennessy that’s not only open but already halfway empty and sitting beside you.

He doesn’t try to hide his presence and is unsurprised when you ask, “How’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard,” he answers. It wasn’t. He remembers almost everything you’ve ever told him about yourself, including how this spot has always been your place to escape.

Just what were you escaping from is what has him stumped.

“Sit down.” You pat the space beside you much harder than what’s necessary. He sighs and asks for a minute, pulling out the phone and stepping away to make a call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah,” Joe runs his hand over his face. “I got her, but….can you take Callie back to your place?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

He looks over again at the bottle. “She’s drunk.”

“Drunk?” It sounds like she’s holding back a chuckle, like his words are humorous because everyone knows you don’t drink, and she says as such. “What do you mean she’s drunk? My child doesn’t even drink.”

“She did tonight” Joe’s eyes fall back over to you to see you still sitting, swaying slightly as if listening to music. There is no music. “And Callie doesn’t need to see her like this.” He especially knows you wouldn’t want her to see you like this.

Your mom sighs, heavily, on the other end. “You’ll stay with her, right?”

“Of course.” That’s not even a question. “And once I get her settled, if Callie is still up—”

“Oh, she’ll be up. She can’t fall asleep unless she talks to you or her mama.” It feels like an inappropriate response, but there’s a small part of Joe that finds joy in this. He remembers when you mentioned to him before that Callie needed to see and/or speak to you before she could fall asleep, a sign of how closely bonded you two were. To be added to that category means everything to him. “Thank you, Joseph.”

He sees no need in being thanked but acknowledges your mom’s appreciation anyway. “Of course.” The call ends, and he brings his focus back to you. The first thing he does is take away the bottle of Henny.

You see this and instantly scowl. “You’re no fun.”

He sits next to you, asking in a quiet voice, “what happened tonight, Y/N?” Joe is still utterly confused at all of this, your zero to one hundred change in demeanor. But, the fact that you resulted to drinking shows him just how heavy whatever it was has impacted you. “Talk to me.”

You laugh, but there isn’t an ounce of humor. “God, where do I start?” Your eyes light up, as if realizing something. “Oooh. I know where.” You lean into his shoulder, whispering, “I’m the product of an affair.”

This piece of information definitely takes him by surprise.

He's noticed you've never talked about your father, and he's never asked. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic, that much he could garner. But now, he knows just why it was sensitive.

“I don't—I don't know exactly what happened between them. She’s never really talked about it, but I do remember when I was younger, maybe—maybe a couple years older than Callie, he was—he was at the house.” You swallow, and Joe can see the distance in your eyes, like you’re no longer sitting here beside him. But someplace else. “She told me to go to my room, but I snooped at the top of the steps. Don’t….don’t really remember everything that was said except that she was literally begging this man to have some type of relationship with me, and he refused.” You laugh suddenly, and it’s so out of place, doesn't make sense given the nature of the conversation. But it does if he factors in the liquor coursing through your system. “He called me a m–mistake.”

Joe's heart aches at your words. “Baby—”

“When I was sixteen years old, I worked at a clothing store in town, and I saved up my money for this necklace…it was gold, and I thought—I thought it was so pretty. It made me feel fancy.” You chuckle, not as humorous this time, head tilting. “And once I finally got the necklace, I drove—I drove an hour away because…because after all those years, I still….I wanted to meet my father. I wanted…I wanted him to be in my life.”

“He’s uh—or was, I’m not sure anymore—captain of police in his town, so I went to the precinct to meet him, wearing that necklace that I worked months to save up for because…because I wanted to look nice. I remember walking into his office, and I was nervous, but—but I also figured there was no way he could reject me then. I—I was head cheerleader. A straight A student. I—I had just gotten a near perfect score on both my SAT and ACT. I was…I was a good kid, Joe.”

Your jaw fixes, and he can see you’re trying to hold back tears. It kills him to see you this upset. He’s never seen you this vulnerable. “And I—I told him all that. I told him I wanted to see if he wanted a relationship with me, and do you know what he told me?” You suddenly stand up, clearly intending to mimic this interaction. “A relationship? Why would I want a relationship with you? You’re not even supposed to exist.”

You giggle, eyes watering. Joe frowns. He can’t even begin to fathom how someone can say something like that to their own flesh and blood.

“Oh, but that’s not even the best part.” You’re doing one hell of a job playing this all off as something that isn’t impacting you, no doubt thanks to the alcohol. But, he knows you well enough to know and even see where this is headed. “He—” you hiccup, covering your mouth to hide your giggles. “He said again that I was a mistake that he paid my mom to take care of and—” It’s starting to crack, the alcohol induced facade that all of this is fine, that you don’t care. Your voice starts to catch. “---that the money he gave her for an abortion was the biggest waste of money he ever spent.”

“Y/N—”

“Minutes later, his wife walked in and then—and then his daughter walked in, and I—I ran. I couldn’t….I couldn’t—we looked the same age, Joe. He had a daughter already, he–he didn’t need me. He didn't—he didn’t want me.” You sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “And that’s fine, I—I didn’t care. I—I blocked that out after that day. I’d—I’d forgotten about him.” A beat. “Until tonight.”

“Because—because for the first time since I was sixteen years old, I was in front of all of them again. My—my—father, his wife, my—-”

Joe starts putting the pieces together. “Bianca….”

“She’s my sister,” you answer for him, having a hard time keeping it all in at this point. “She’s the one he’s proud of. She’s the one whose kid he claims as his grandchild. She’s the one he acknowledges. I’m just—I’m just the mistake he wishes was never born.”

Joe stands up, gradually moving toward you.

“I did everything right. I stayed out of trouble. I went to school. I got my degree. I did—-” He’s in front of you, gently pulling you into him as you finally break. “I don’t understand why he didn’t want me. I’m his daughter.” you finally shatter, crying into his chest. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, hey—” Joe brings his hands to your face, making you look at him. “There is nothing wrong with you. You are an amazing, intelligent, beautiful woman, and I can’t even begin to describe how amazing of a mother you are.” He wipes away your tears as you clutch onto his shirt. “He doesn’t deserve you, baby. He doesn’t deserve to be in your life. He never did, and he never will. Fuck him. You don’t need shit from him. I’ve got you, okay? Always.” You allow him to hold you, to comfort you, because it’s just what you need in this moment. You tried to find it in solitude, tried to find it at the bottom of a liquor bottle, but it was all in vain. You just needed him.

Joe holds you as long as you allow him, letting you cry it out until he's eventually able to guide you into returning to your apartment.

But outside the door is when you hesitate.

He notices this, immediately asking, “what’s wrong?”

Your eyes start watering again. “Callie…I—I don’t want her to—”

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head. “I asked your mom to take her back to her place. I’ll go check on her after I get you straight.”

This seems to settle some of your anxiety, and he continues to guide you into your bedroom. He helps you out of your clothes and into a simple t-shirt that he recognizes as one of his own.

Joe moves all of your decorative pillows, placing them on the chair in the corner of your room as you pull back the blankets. He turns around to find you reaching for his hand, tugging him towards the bed. “Just—just until I fall asleep.”

He doesn’t object. Joe planned to stay with you until then anyway.

He undresses enough to climb into bed with you, and you waste no time burying yourself into his chest, feeling an instant sense of peace when he wraps his strong arms around you. You’ve always felt so safe and protected in his embrace, and in this moment, it’s everything you need.

“I realized something tonight,” you mumble into his skin. Joe’s hand is under your shirt, hand moving soothing circles on the small of your back. “I—I didn’t keep Callie from you because of your wife. That was part of the reason, but it wasn’t the main reason.” You lift your head, throat feeling pressured as you allow yourself to finally admit, “the truth is that I was terrified you would reject her the way my dad rejected me, and I never wanted her to feel that way. And I know now that you would never do that to her, but I—I didn’t know then, and I was so wrong, and I’m so sorry. I—”

“Hey—” He cuts you off, hand going to palm your cheek. “Don’t do that. I understand why you did it now, I do. You were trying to protect her. I can’t be upset with you for that. I’m not.” He studies your face, your eyes, always so beautiful to him. “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you for too long.”

It’s not a lie. Joe’s always thought he’s known you like the back of his hand, learned you so well, but tonight has shown him that he didn’t know everything. He’ll never get back the time he missed out on with Callie, and maybe on some level there will always be a slither of resentment. But, it’s not enough for him to notice and most definitely not enough for him to actually feel.

He’s not quite sure how he could find it in him to hold your decision against you. It didn’t come from a place of selfishness or vindictiveness but love and protectiveness. You just wanted to keep her from experiencing the pain and trauma you’d endured.

There was no faulting that.

And you accept his grace, so understanding and considerate. You feel slightly undeserving but immensely grateful that he can extend such empathy.

You’re quiet after that, eyes shut as you work to turn off your brain and decompress what’s inarguably been one of the most difficult days of your life. You’re almost in the early stages of sleep when his voice invades the quietness.

“I love you.” Joe doesn’t feel any sort of movement at his confession, doesn’t feel you tense or relax. He’s not even sure if you’re still awake, but still, he continues. “I’ve always loved you, and I don’t even know how much of this you’ll remember tomorrow, but that doesn’t matter because I’ve always imagined telling you under much different circumstances anyway.”

“I want to be with you,” he continues. “I’ve always wanted to be with you, and I’m sorry for not putting you first. You deserved better than that. I should have gotten divorced long before I even met you. And that’s….something we eventually need to talk about. I owe you that much.”

He wants to say more, so much more, but he also knows now is not the time given he’s almost certain you’re asleep. Hence why he finally slips out of bed, knowing he needs to check on Callie.

He doesn’t leave without caressing your cheek and kissing your temple, relieved that you’re finally getting some rest following what was inexplicably an emotionally draining day.

But you’re not asleep, and you did hear it.

You heard it all.

________

“Who are you?”

Joe walked into your moms house, not expecting anyone other than your mom and Callie. Only one of those individuals are present, and the other is a man he’s never in his life seen before but automatically doesn’t like. Just his aura seems off.

Joe especially hates that this man is in the same house as his little girl.

Your mom seems taken back by this side of him and explains, “Joe, this is Amir. He’s, uhh, an old friend of Y/N. He saw her run off and wanted to check in on her.”

The day's events are definitely a contributing factor as Joe feels exhausted, both mentally and physically, but hearing that this is the infamous Amir instantly angers him. What the hell is he doing here?

“You bold as hell coming here.” is all Joe says, redirecting his attention to your mom. “Y/N tell you that she found out he and Mariah been sleeping with each other?”

What he wants to say is that they’ve been fucking, but he wants to remain respectful. Even if it is hard as hell.

Your mom is looking, mouth ajar, between Joe and Amir. “Wh–what is he talking about, Amir?”

“So you’re the one that’s been feeding those lies into her.” Deflection. It’s a typical bitch move. “You talking a lot of shit for someone who abandoned his own kid and just came back on the scene like ain't nothing happened.”

If not for the fact that you’ve already explained to Joe that you’d never told Amir what really happened between you and him because it was none of his business, Joe would have been livid. He would never abandon you. And definitely never Callie. Ever.

He’d have been with you every fucking step of the way the minute you found out you were pregnant if he’d been given the chance.

But all of that is no business of this asshole’s.

“You can say or think whatever the hell you want about me. It doesn’t matter. You’re irrelevant, regardless, so the same way you walked your ass in here is the same way you can walk your ass right on out.”

“Apparently not to Y/N.” He’s smug, and it takes a tremendous amount of willpower for Joe to not lay this man out right then and there. He doesn’t know why you would ever settle for the likes of this prick. “Not with how many times she ended up in my bed.”

Joe partially forgot your mom was even in the same vicinity until she gasps loudly, clearly disgusted, “my Lord. Please, this is my daughter you’re speaking about.”

With a low chuckle, Joe tries his best to remain respectful yet still abundantly clear. “And how many times has she reached out to you since I’ve been back?” His silence is all the answer Joe needs, not that he really needs one at all. Joe knows you have eyes and desire for him and him alone. He just needs to prove a point to this motherfucker. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from my girlfriend and especially my daughter, cause the next time it won’t be no conversation.”

And before Amir can say or even, stupidly, do anything, a new smaller voice enters the scene.

“Daddy!”

Joe is unsure if he’ll ever get over the joy that fills him at being called that. Callie is at the top of the steps but proceeds to rush down when she sees him, Joe leaning down and catching her, picking her up.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He kisses her cheek, noticing almost immediately how tired she looks. Understandable, as it’s almost 11 o’ clock, far past her bedtime. Uncomfortable with this Amari or whatever the fuck his name is being so close to Callie, Joe starts leading her back up the stairs.

With a frown, she asks the question he was expecting. “Where’s mommy?”

“She’s back at the apartment sleeping.” Joe is unsure just how to explain tonight’s events to Callie, not really knowing how to help her understand what occurred, if at all possible. “I’ll take you to see her tomorrow morning as soon as she wakes up.”

Joe walks her into her room at your mom’s place and seats her on the bed, sitting next to her. “What’s wrong with her?”

Such a simple question in wording and massively difficult in every other area, especially when one considers Callie’s young age.

“Mommy saw someone who was very mean to her when she was little, and it made her sad, so….she just wanted to be alone.” It’s the best, simplest answer that’s not a lie he can come up with on the spot.

Callie’s frown deepens. “I don’t want mommy to be sad.”

“Neither do I, baby,” he murmurs. “But, I talked with her, and she should start feeling better soon, okay?”

Her frown diminishes slightly, and Joe can tell she’s in thought. She then asks, “are you gonna go stay with mommy tonight?”

“I was, but I can stay with you, if you want me to.” Joe knows you’ll probably sleep throughout the night because of the alcohol and more importantly, if Callie needs him, he’s there. No questions asked.

You would do the same.

She suddenly shakes her head. “Mommy stays with me when I’m sad, so someone’s gotta stay with her while she’s sad.” Her face grows sullen again as she asks with a yawn, “do you still have to leave tomorrow morning?”

“No, I leave tomorrow night instead.”

In the midst of all of tonight’s chaos, he’d managed to switch flights, picking an evening one instead. Joe let Hunter know there was a family emergency, and that he’d be back later than initially expected. Hunter was understanding, and while he was grateful for that, it didn’t really make a difference.

You and Callie come first.

She’s obviously partially pleased with this information and moves her body against his, laying her head on his arm. “I’m sleepy….”

Reaching to caress her cheek with his finger, he directs, “get some rest, Callie. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

She doesn’t say anything, just closes her eyes. It doesn’t take long for sleep to overtake her, a mere matter of minutes really. He stays with her longer though, just to be sure, needing to know she’s okay.

He needs both of yall to be okay.

________

You wake up with an instant sense of unease and discomfort. Your head is throbbing, and your body feels heavy. Your chest feels pressured, like there’s some invisible weight on it.

But in a matter of seconds, it all comes rushing back to you. The fireworks. Bianca. Seeing your dad. Running. Drinking.

"I love you."

Eyes shutting, you do your best to settle your brain because only one thing is at the front of your mind when you hear giggling coming from outside of your closed door.

Callie

Just how in the hell did your brief mental breakdown affect your child?

Pushing the blankets off, it’s then you notice the bottle of water and white pill sitting on your nightstand. Picking it up, you see it’s Advil.

“Joe…..” you whisper, realizing he must have left it here waiting for you once you woke up. Eyes watering at his thoughtfulness, you swallow it and head straight for the bathroom. You need to get cleaned up and get out there to see what kind of damage you’ve unintentionally inflicted on your child’s psyche.

You know how attached she is to you and don’t even allow yourself to think about how difficult it must have been to be so abruptly ripped away.

Especially when you’re the one who did the ripping.

The shower is kept to a minimum, and once your teeth are brushed and face clean, you don’t hesitate to step out of the room. Following the path of sound, in the kitchen is where you find Callie. With Joe.

They’re sharing a quiet laugh, and you’re certain it’s quiet because he told her you needed your rest. Always looking out for you.

However, it’s when Callie happens to glance your way that her eyes go big.

“Mommy!”

She surprisingly climbs off the counter instead of outright jumping and runs over to you. You kneel down to meet her for her hug, so tight and welcoming. “Do you feel better?”

“Oh baby, I’m always better when I get to see you.” Kissing her forehead, you add, gently, “mommy’s sorry for scaring you.” And it's true. You never meant to scare her or make her worry about you, and it's something you'll work as hard as necessary to make up to her.

But your sweet child surprises you with her authentic, mature reassurances. “It’s okay. Daddy said you were sad,” she explains and gasps. “I made you something to make you smile!”

Touched, you palm her cheek. She really is the light of your life. “I’d love to see it, baby.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back.” She rushes out of the kitchen, and you take the opportunity to talk to Joe. Wordlessly, you move over to hug him.

“Thank you.” There’s not enough thank yous to show him just how appreciative you are to have him in your life, to have him as Callie’s father. He took such control yesterday while you were busy drowning in your daddy issues. And now he’s still here when you’re almost certain that he was supposed to have flown out at the crack of dawn. “I’m really sorry about last night. That’s not—-I don’t get drunk. I would never leave Callie like that—“

“I don’t care about any of that,” he dismisses. You believe him, as he looks entirely uninterested in any explanation you want to provide him because he sees it as unnecessary. He takes the back of hand to feel your forehead. “How are you feeling? Did you take the Advil?”

Nodding, you try again, “seriously, Joe. You’ve changed your whole schedule around—“

“You needed me,” he answers. “There was nothing to think about.”

And the tears are brewing again, but for very different reasons. This man is everything you’ve always wanted and dreamed of, even better. And he loves you. He wants to be with you. Your daughter's father wants to establish a life with you, be a family. What logical reason do you have to continue to deny him? Deny yourself?

“Joe…..” Licking your lips, you place your hands on his chest. “I lo—”

“Here it is, mommy!”

Callie’s interruption is both perfect and imperfect timing. You want so badly to tell him that you love him too, that you also want to be with him. But maybe it’s not the best timing, maybe the setting should be different.

You want him to know you love him not just because of the aftershocks of vulnerability. That you’re in love with him and have been since you were 23 years old.

Callie is at your legs, holding up a drawing she created of you surrounded by hearts. Her artwork has always been her favorite form of expression, and you’re so grateful for her pure, kind heart in this moment.

Holding it against your chest, you lean down to accept her hug. “Thank you so much, baby. I love it.”

“Yay!” She rejoices and then looks up between the two of you. “Daddy and I made you breakfast!”

Gasping, you ask, “really?” It’s only then you notice the kitchen, while cleaner than one would expect after preparing breakfast with a four-year-old, you see the counters that have food laid out on a variety of plates and tupperware. “Waffles?”

“Your favorite.” Joe reaches to kiss your temple, and lightly pats your hip. “Sit down, we’ll fix it for you.”

You open your mouth to protest when Callie takes your hand and guides you to the barstools and scampers back over to Joe who picks her up, holding her with one arm while the other fixes your breakfast for you. He allows her to point and dictate what goes on your plate and how it’s fixed.

And you sit there, allowing yourself to take in this moment. There’s so much you need to navigate and sort through. Bianca, your dad, Mariah, hell, even finally being honest with Joe about your feelings. But, all of that can wait.

Because all that matters right now are the two people you love most in this world.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook #black writers

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touchme-teezme · 1 month ago

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‧˚💌 The Love Interrupted Series ‧˚꒰💋ྀིྀི

This is a short story series about non-idol!ATEEZ in university just fumbling through love, heartbreak, and getting tangled in messy situations. Mistakes, old flames, rebounds and everything in between. And yes, cliffhangers only — no sequels.

Happy new year! i’m back, did you miss me? i missed u! we’re kicking off 2025 (pretend January isn't almost over already lol) with this series to push myself, clear my drafts and, spice things up a little. enjoy!

💬 Inspired by stories, poems, and song lyrics. 💬 ATEEZ x fem!reader 💬 21+ only [MINORS DNI]—lots of smut, angst, cheating, hookups, manipulation and all the messy stuff you don’t tell the group chat because they’d definitely roast you.

🚩 Disclaimer: I don’t condone any of this hook-up culture bullshit. Been there, done that—it sucks. This is all for plot and my own skill growth, and ofc drama. Not a reflection of their irl character or my perceptions of them at all. So if this is not your thing, no worries, just don’t read or interact – like i am not even here, I’m a hallucination.

STATUS ⭑.ᐟ on-going

+ if you’d like to be reminded when a certain part is up, drop me a comment or let me know through my inbox (it’s always open). i’ll tag you when it’s up! xo

↬ Mingi “Last Pick.”

You and Mingi are best friends. He likes you, but you love him. One fight changes the trajectory of your friendship forever.

Read here

↬ San “This Time.”

The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

Read here

↬ Yeosang “Why Me?”

Yeosang realized he had feelings for you at the worst possible moment—now he’s spiralling and needs an outlet. Lucky for you, you’re here. Unlucky for you, it comes with a cost.

Read Here

↬ Seonghwa “I’m Sorry.”

Seonghwa needed a break. He also decided something needed to change, and after spending one night with you, and he’s wondering if he’s messed up… again.

status: delayed sorry (i be lying sometimes)

↬ Jongho “Who's That?”

Your boyfriend’s been swamped lately, trying to make it up to you. When you finally reconnect though, he can’t shake the feeling something’s off.

status: coming soon.

↬ Wooyoung “Come Over.”

Wooyoung, stuck in the aftermath of a breakup, finds solace on top of with you. You both damn well know you don’t deserve this… so why can’t it stop?

status: coming soon.

↬ Yunho “Choose Me.”

Yunho and his girlfriend have been struggling with long distance, but one encounter with you puts everyone on a path that you do not just come back from.

status: coming soon.

↬ Hongjoong “Take Care.”

Years after a painful breakup, you and Hongjoong cross paths again. You both go down memory lane only to learn something really are better off left in the past.

status: editing on hold.

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zepskies · 2 years ago

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Break Me Down - Part 15

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 4,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smuttish. Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, peril, and a cliffhanger…

Part 15: The Tower

You dreamed of Medellin.

Of being back in that mansion on the cliffside, during a Colombian summer. Sometimes it was sipping a vodka cranberry by the pool.

Other times, it was getting poker lessons from Loco and Saul while Frank smoked a cigarette. Or reading by yourself in the garden, surrounded by yellow flowers, as the salty wind from the nearby waterfall kissed your cheeks and rustled your sundress.

And once, it was getting caught by Ben on your way back to your new, bigger room. Pretending to be coy, fully aware of him following you, feeling his stare on your ass.

Then when you got to the door, you paused and turned in the doorway, boldly meeting his gaze.

And you pulled him inside your room by his shirt, just like you had the first time. He pawed at your dress, those heavy hands dragging underneath, probing between your thighs.

You held him to you, reveled in the scrape of his beard against your neck, sighed shakily in his ear as he walked you back, your ass bumping into the dresser.

Ben turned you around. You allowed his manhandling as those hands wrapped around you and found your breasts, kneading every curve before he bent you over on the dresser.

You braced yourself on the hard wood when those nimble fingers of his teased you through your underwear. Soon enough you sucked in a sharp breath, felt the burn of the lace ripping off, sliding from between your already slippery folds.

But before he gave you what you wanted, what you were begging him for without words, he reached around and took your face in his hand, encouraging you to lift your head.

Your gaze found his in the mirror, scorching lust and naked desire. And yet, you still wondered what he saw when he looked at you.

You just couldn’t know that he was wondering the same thing.

But he forced you to watch him, to watch yourself as he entered you. Your mouth opened on a gasp.

You woke in bed with a jolt as your cell phone rang and vibrated on the nightstand. You pressed a hand to your rapidly beating heart and sighed.

You didn’t quite remember the dream, but your skin was tingling all the way down to your toes. Not to mention the suspect heat between your legs…

You grabbed your phone, frowning in annoyance at the caller ID.

Fucking Butcher again. But you answered, and he had unexpected news for you.

When you eventually hung up with him, you got ready for the day. Ben must’ve already been awake, as his side of the bed was empty when you woke up. You later found him sitting on the porch outside in an old wooden chair, smoking a cigar.

How can he smoke so early in the morning? you thought with a shake of your head. He looked up at you, his lips lifting around his cigar.

“Morning,” he said, puffing away.

“You shouldn’t be hanging out here in the open,” you reminded him.

He shrugged and reached out a hand to you. Sighing, you took it, and he tugged you over to sit in his lap. You waved the smoke out of your face, giving him a look of amusement and disbelief.

“Where the hell did you find a cigar?”

“Had it ordered in,” he said with a smirk. “That French fuck knows his shit.”

You shook your head at him with a small smile. You assumed he meant Frenchie.

“We gotta go,” you told him. “Butcher just called.”

“Churchill can calm his tits for ten more minutes,” he said. He offered you a puff of his cigar when he caught you eyeing it. “Want to try it out?”

You grimaced, but part of you was curious, as you had never smoked one of these before. You took the cigar and inhaled a bit, and immediately started dying. This was nothing like smoking a joint.

“Shit,” you coughed out smoke. Ben rumbled with laughter, and you playfully hit his arm.

“Here, take this thing back,” you said, still coughing. He rubbed your back and took the cigar from you. He continued to puff away.

“Lightweight,” he teased you.

“Old man,” you countered. “Out here in the heat with your day slippers.”

He glanced down at said slippers with a slight raise of his brows. Then he rolled his eyes.

“Eh, fuck off.”

“Mhmm,” you said wryly. And you took the cigar from his mouth.

“Hey!”

Ben didn’t appreciate being dragged all the way back to Supe Affairs, just to be told they couldn’t nail down Stan fucking Edgar.

“I got you Neuman. So what’s the damn problem?” he groused.

“We haven’t been able to find anything concrete to pin him with, legally speaking,” said Hughie.

You, Ben, Grace, and the rest of the team had gathered in a large conference room near Grace’s office. You sat while Ben stood to your right, his arms crossed grumpily.

“What the hell does that matter?” Ben said. “We know what he’s guilty of. I’ve been ready and waiting to take out that fucking weasel.”

“He’s got a bit of a point, actually,” Butcher said. Annie raised an incredulous brow at both of them.

“Because we can’t go around assassinating people,” she said. “That’s not what this group is about.”

“You’re a late comer to this fucking group, to be fair,” Butcher pointed out, crossing his arms as well. M.M. shot Butcher a look that said, really?

“We do have Victoria,” you spoke up. “Even if she isn’t holding anything else back, she can still help us.”

Grace considered you. “Yes. She can get through his network and give him a call, try to set up a time to meet.”

“And what then?” Annie asked, gesturing at Butcher and Ben. “These two assholes vaporize him?”

“We know they cloned Black Noir,” Hughie jumped in. “Along with a lot of other experiments that are so not fucking legal. We just need to find evidence in the lab.”

“And in the meantime, we get ahold of the slippery bastard,” Frenchie added. You nodded in agreement.

“The sooner he’s behind bars and Vought is dismantled, the sooner I can bring my family out of protective custody,” you said.

Grace then turned to M.M. “Marvin, what do you think?”

All eyes turned to the man, who took in the various stares with a resigned sigh.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” he said.

With a plan made, Grace, M.M., and Butcher went to visit Victoria upstairs in her holding cell. They coached her through her call to Stan.

Meanwhile, Ben could care less about how the others eyed him with mistrust. (Well, Hughie tried to “buddy buddy” himself by offering up a cup of joe, but Ben mostly ignored that cum-guzzling moron.)

No, he’d expected that. He noticed more how they treated you, still with polite distance and awkwardness, making glances between him and you.

“You don’t seem to understand just how much shit I’m in for trying to help you right now,” you’d said to him once.

Ben understood a bit of what you meant now.

You later led him out of the conference room and to the cafeteria with your head held high, but he could see that you were hiding it. How people’s stares and whispers were affecting you as the two of you walked down the hall.

He had plenty of practice with that, letting attention (wanted or otherwise) roll off his back. But Ben realized that he’d marked you now, in more ways than one.

You later picked at a caesar salad while Ben was busy inhaling his second Italian sub. He subtly watched you, wondered what the hell you were thinking.

Before he might’ve bit the bullet and just asked you, your phone buzzed on the table.

You read the text from Butcher in the group chat:

Stan agreed to meet Neuman. Tomorrow night at her apartment.

“Good,” you breathed in relief. And you showed Ben the text. He nodded around a mouthful of salami and provolone. Though he had a bit of mustard at the corner of his mouth.

You smiled a little. Grabbing a napkin, you reached over and wiped it away. Ben let you do it. His lips curved as he watched you while chewing.

“Okay, let’s meet up with them after this. There’s going to be a lot to set up,” you started to say. But your phone trilled once again in your hand, this time a call from an unknown number. Frowning, you answered the call.

“Hello?”

“He knows you’ve got her.”

Your expression slackened at whose voice was on the line. Ben noticed, and it actually made him pause on taking another bite of his sandwich.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” you said tersely.

Your father sighed. “Listen. Stan has no intention of meeting with Victoria.”

You reluctantly perked up at that. Ben raised an expectant brow at you. Your lips pursed; you really wanted to hang up on principle, but you knew you couldn’t. You held up a finger at Ben that said, wait.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Exactly what I said. He knows you have her. He knows you’re trying to trap him,” said Jon.

You sighed, rubbing at the ache starting to form between your eyes. But then your hand fell back to the table. Your expression hardened.

“Did you order the fucking hit on me?” you asked.

“Sweetheart—”

You closed your eyes.

“No. No. You don’t get to sweetheart me after you broke my fucking ribs,” you snapped. “Did you know?”

Ben’s frown darkened as he finally realized who you were talking to. His hand curled into a fist on the table.

“…No, I didn’t know,” Jon replied. “Why do you think I’m calling you now?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Why the hell are you trying to help me? Isn’t this a conflict of interest?”

You heard a heavy sigh on the line, and you waited. Your patience was starting to thin. You could also see Ben’s mood darkening now that he knew you were talking to your father. You angled yourself slightly, so he couldn’t reach over and grab the phone from you. (You saw his fingers twitching.)

“He crossed the line sending Black Noir after you and your sister…and your mother,” Jon said. “I can help you on this.”

“There’s no world in which I’d ever trust you again,” you said flatly.

“You’ve just gotta think here,” said Jon. “Do you want Stan Edgar or not?”

Your lips pursed. But you listened to what he had to say.

When you eventually hung up, Ben walked with you back up the stairs to the conference room. He watched you explain to Butcher and the rest of the team what your father had said, and what he’d proposed as a solution to the problem of Stan Edgar.

Stan was due to come into the office at Vought Tower for a meeting with presidential candidate, Robert Singer. With Jon’s help, they could squeeze through a gap in security and intercept Stan before the meeting. The idea was to arrest him, but if Black Noir made an appearance, then that was Soldier Boy’s cue.

And all bets would be off then.

After Ben sat through the more boring logistics, he was relieved when the meeting finally dispersed, with the goal of meeting back here bright and early tomorrow.

Even back at the safe house, you were antsy, pacing back and forth across the living room. Ben had changed out of his supe suit into some jeans and a shirt, and he now watched you from the kitchen with a beer.

He wanted to ask you what you were planning on doing for dinner (and when, for that matter). But he was pretty sure you’d verbally bite his head off if he mentioned it.

Not that he was afraid of that, by any means…but he’d just rather not get into it with you right now. Not when things had been going good for the past few days.

So he went into the living room to sit on the couch. He was about to turn on the TV, before you sat down heavily in the lounge chair beside the couch. Your face looked so pensive, so troubled as you rested your chin in your hand, that Ben let out a breath.

He set down his beer on the coffee table. Then he sat back and crossed his arms, glancing over at you.

“If we’re going to do this, you need to get your head on straight,” Ben said.

You looked over at him, not willing to admit you were upset (and that he was right), but unable to lie either.

“Let me figure out dinner,” you said instead. You got up, but Ben’s voice stopped you.

“When you see him, don’t give him an opening,” he said. You turned to meet his eyes, and you knew full well who he meant by him.

“You’re smarter than that,” Ben added, giving you a more reserved smile.

You crossed your arms. Emotion rose high in your throat, and it threatened to choke you as your eyes started to burn.

“Am I?” you asked.

Ben’s attempt at a smile faded at the sight of your burgeoning tears. He sighed deeply, and he held out a hand to you.

“Come ‘ere.”

Your head tilted in slight confusion, but you went to him. He took your hand, and once again guided you into his lap. He settled you across his thighs, and after a beat of hesitation, he soothed a hand over your hair. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt for support, and you sucked in a shaky breath.

“Bet you wish I’d knocked him a bit harder against the fucking wall,” he quipped.

You uttered a laugh at his dark humor, wiping at your eyes. “Heh. Maybe. It’d certainly make my life less complicated.”

You sighed and rested against his chest, leaning your head on his shoulder. A smile raised your lips when his arm slid around your waist and held you. His thumb soothed back and forth across your thigh.

And it was then you knew that he really did care about you.

You turned into him, and hid your face into his neck when your tears burned anew. This time for a different reason, as you realized what this meant to you. How this man had broken through your defenses and slipped his way under your skin.

You had a suspicious feeling that he was there to stay, no matter what happened after this mission was over.

“Want me to finish the job?” Ben offered, barely even half joking.

“Ben, please,” you implored into his skin. You shook your head, and your fist curled tighter into his shirt. “Just…”

Ben hesitated, but he held you more securely. He soothed a hand up and down your back.

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he rumbled. “We had a deal didn’t we? Long as I’m around, you’ll be all right.”

You nodded with a sniffle, and Ben felt your tears against his skin.

His hands really itched to finish the job he started with your father—and rip out his throat next time. Matter of fact, as soon as he saw that limp-dick piece of shit, it was on sight.

And with that bone-deep thought, Ben knew that this was different. What he was doing here with you meant something to him. Whether you knew it or not…

(And you will, he thought.)

You…were his. That was just how it was going to be.

He decided this in his mind, after he pressed a kiss above the patch of bruising along your temple.

You were his.

The following morning, Stan straightened the blazer of his navy suit as he got off the elevator.

His office lied at the top floor of Vought Tower, and it was newly renovated after the battle that took place last week. His bodyguard opened the glass door for him before he stepped through.

He reached his new desk and sat down at the plush leather office chair, took up a freshly brewed mug of coffee (cream, no sugar), and enjoyed a satisfying sip.

Then his bodyguard was pulled away from the front of his door, thrown down the hall. Stan raised his head, but didn’t startle as the door was wrenched open.

“What the fuck! Not yet—” Starlight’s voice in the hall. But the next guest in his office was a different former employee.

Soldier Boy stepped through in his familiar green suit.

Stan remembered when this version of the suit was commissioned, to replace the dull gray with a pop of military color for marketing purposes.

“Good morning,” Stan greeted, raising his mug. “Care for a cup? Perhaps a donut.”

“Still fucking smarmy,” Ben said. He stood in front of the man’s desk, flexing his half-gloved fingers. He glanced up at the walls of this office, this tower in the sky. “We’ve been doing this dance for a long time, you and I.”

“And yet, on entirely different tempos,” Stan replied. “How can I help you, Soldier Boy?”

Ben raised a finger.

“See, that’s what I can’t fucking stand. A goddamn hypocrite,” he said. “When you came to me in ’84, you said partnering with the military on that Nicaragua mission would call back to my unveiling in ’44. Forty years of service in the making.”

And forty more that would be stolen from him.

Ben’s hand clenched into a fist. “My mistake was believing you.”

“And my mistake was replacing you with more of the same,” said Stan, with his usual bland stoicism. “For all that you’d claim otherwise, you and Homelander shared more than just chromosomes.”

Stan stood from his chair, but was discreet in pressing a small button under his desk.

“In all this posturing, I see an insecure child, yearning for attention,” he continued with a mild shrug. “Your strength is…nothing but a mask for how truly empty you are.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, but he resisted losing his temper. He knew that would only goad this little prick on. He watched as Stan rounded his desk, pulling his hands behind his back.

“The cold truth is, you sold your humanity so that someone in the world would deign to love you. And if not, to fear you,” he said simply. “I sell it to win.”

Ben’s senses prickled just in time to raise his shield against a metal spike aimed at his head. It ricocheted and speared into the ground.

Stan frowned; this tile had just been replaced. But he stepped to the side as Black Noir burst into the office and went for Soldier Boy. He carefully avoided the fight as his bodyguards came to pull him out of the fray.

Stan’s eyes only widened when the first two guards were shot dead by Billy Butcher and his team.

While a fight brewed in Stan Edgar’s office, you were in the familiar bowels of the tower, back in the Security & Surveillance command center…with your father.

The two of you had taken control of the room, dismissing the on-site personnel, and now were in the process of evacuating the tower. At this point, who knew what could happen in the fight between Ben and Black Noir. You weren’t willing to abet any collateral damage, even here.

Out of several monitors on the big screen, you kept one eye on the fight in Stan’s office. You and Jon noticed a breach in the hall.

“Butcher, you should be on your way out already,” Jon told him through the communicator in his ear. “The secondary team is also on its way up.”

“Right.”

You watched with a measure of concern. Butcher seemed to be waning against a common security guard. He’d needed M.M. to grab the guy from behind and hurl him into Stan’s desk. Stan himself was plastered against the far corner of the wall, letting his security attempt to subdue Butcher and the rest of your friends.

Your eyes moved to Black Noir. He’d also brought the same gun from last time—the one that had disrupted Ben’s powers. He was evading well enough so far…

“Soldier Boy is dangerous,” Jon said, breaking your attention from the screen. “However he’s managed to manipulate you into thinking he’s a good guy, there’s no hiding the fact that he can’t control that fucking A-bomb inside him.”

Your lips pursed in annoyance.

“Oh, he is dangerous,” you agreed. “He wanted to finish what he started, caving in your skull as well as your chest. If I were you, I’d duck out quick when this is done.”

Jon didn’t answer, but when you glanced at him, you saw the way he stilled, his jaw tensing.

“Aren’t you glad I dropped him off at the lobby?” you quipped. Then you pressed a button on the control board and overrode the overhead speaker in the Administration office, where you saw people still milling about.

“Evacuation was not a request,” you said into the speaker. “Put down the fucking chai tea latte and exit through the stairwell to the garage please.”

Jon turned to you while sitting in his chair.

“After this is over, you’d be smart to start fresh…I could help you.”

You met him with a flat glare. “Now that’s just plain delusional.”

You had half a mind to get Ben on the comm to let Jon know exactly what he’d be in for if he tried to take you anywhere, but you didn’t want to distract Ben right now.

And maybe he didn’t know that you were alone with your father.

Meanwhile, Jon’s mouth firmed into a line. A tendril of wariness (and maybe fear) laced down your spine. Your hand slowly moved to your belt…but he merely inclined his head.

“All right. Maybe I deserve that,” he said. “But no matter my methods, I’ve always sought the best for you.”

“The best for—” You paused with a sharp sigh. And you steeled yourself before you replied. “I don’t know what fucked up fantasy world you’re living in, Jon. But after I left, I could finally see it clearly. You are the reason I hated myself.”

Jon didn’t show the true depths of his reaction. That wasn’t his way, but his steely eyes hardened as they held yours for a long moment. Then, he turned back to the screens.

You released a subtle breath, though your hand stayed resting on your belt.

Only Ben and Grace knew the truth about the injuries you’d sustained after being picked up at Vought. This time, you weren’t without a weapon. You had a gun on one hip and a taser on the other.

Ben had only agreed to your role in the mission because you’d called for backup. They should’ve been here by now, actually. In fact, they were supposed to meet you in the lobby, before you met up with your father.

Maybe they got stuck in traffic, you thought. You’d been checking your phone for the past ten minutes.

But then a silent text came in: your backup team had just arrived. In fact, they strolled into the command center in full tactical gear, with guns drawn. Seeing the room was clear except for you and Jon, Frank nodded to Loco and stepped further inside.

“Hey, welcome to the party,” you said, greeting both men with a grateful smile. Jon glanced at you, then the men with a frown.

“Who the fuck are these two?” he asked.

“My reinforcements,” you replied tartly. You felt better with them here as your spine untightened a bit.

Frank nodded at you and remained standing to watch the door, while Loco grabbed a chair at your side. You gave him the lowdown of the control settings on the dashboard in front of you.

“Oh shit,” Loco said when he glanced up at the screen. You followed suit, and a gasp fell from your mouth.

Ben managed to unmask Black Noir.

The helmet hung from Ben’s gloved hand. It was Earving all right, but it also wasn’t. His eyes, normally a dark brown, were misted over with gray and almost lifeless.

“Noir, destabilize him,” Stan commanded from his cowering corner. The supe seemed to hear him, and only that order.

Ben realized now what these fuckers had done. Not only did they create this Noir clone with Homelander scraps, but they’d made the perfect soldier. One that only took orders.

Butcher noticed too, with widening eyes. Fucking hell.

But he had to brace a hand against the wall as a hacking cough rose unbidden from his chest, worsening the roiling pain in his stomach and the ache behind his eyes. Hughie grabbed his arm to support him, and his face was picture-perfect concern.

“What’s wrong?” Hughie asked. Butcher couldn’t answer him, because on the last cough, a spew of blood coated his hand (and the younger man’s shoes). Hughie’s eyes widened.

“What the fuck’s going on with you?” he exclaimed. Butcher just grabbed his arm and pulled him a few feet over, so they wouldn’t get caught in the blast of Noir’s energy gun.

Ben was grappling with him. He focused on summoning the nuclear power collecting in his chest. All he needed was one clear hit, and he’d be able to end this motherfucker for good.

But before he could fully charge up, Black Noir aimed a well-placed kick to his sternum, sending him back a few feet. It gave Noir the opening he needed to shoot Ben right in the chest with his energy gun.

An electrifying blue met pulsing red, and swallowed it up. It took Ben along with it. Luckily his shield was clipped onto his back, so it didn’t get eaten up in the initial blast.

Now, he fairly crackled with red and blue fractals, which coursed together into a violet haze. He felt dizzy and wrong, knowing that all this power had to come out. But if that happened, he knew he couldn’t contain it. He didn’t know what would happen.

Part of him knew it would solve his problem, killing Noir, Stan, Butcher, and the rest of those assholes in one powerful swoop.

No collateral damage.

It was your voice in his mind. And he remembered you were here too, somewhere in the Tower. He closed his eyes, a strained yell erupting from his throat.

He couldn’t stop it. The sheer force brought him to his knees before he could angle it up into the sky. Instead, it released into the ground below.

The nuclear blast tore through concrete like a drill, and it didn’t stop until it reached the very foundations of the tower, deep into the earth.

Afterwards, everything was still. Ben could only stare into the chasm below him while he caught his breath.

Until the ground, the walls, everything began to tremor and shake.

“Oh shit,” said M.M.

During the blast, he’d held onto the far wall with Annie, Kimiko, and Frenchie. But now, he grabbed Annie’s arm to pull her up. The shaking grew worse with every second.

“What the hell was that?” you commed in. No one could answer you yet, but at least it let Ben and the rest of them know that you were alive.

Annie reached out to Hughie, who grabbed onto her hand in relief. He also helped Butcher straighten, putting his arm across Hughie’s shoulders. Butcher glanced up at Black Noir, who was heading towards Stan. Meanwhile, Ben was stumbling to his feet.

“It’s gonna come down like the fucking Eye of Sauron!” Hughie shouted.

Butcher shared a grim look with M.M. “Like the bloody Twin Towers.”

AN: 🫨 The Tower's falling! But how'd you like Ben contemplating getting his hands on Jon? 😏

We're heading into the real action here, folks!

Next Time:

You pressed a shaking finger to the comm in your ear.

“Ben, where are you?” you asked. Maybe he heard the tremor in your voice, because you certainly read the concern in his.

“You’re not on the second floor. Where are you?”

You closed your eyes for a beat. “On the first floor. The garage is blocked and Noir has us bottlenecked.”

“I’m almost there. Just stay put,” Ben said. His tone was firm, and it reassured you. You nodded, despite the fact that he couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, not going anywhere in a hurry,” you whispered.

Keep Reading: PART 16

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann83 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92

#The Tower #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 15 #zepskies writes

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iphoenixrising · 12 days ago

Note

Hi! I just wanted to send you a message, firstly to wish you a happy new year! And secondly just to say that you’ve been providing incredible and free works of art for nearly a decade (probably longer, but it’s been nearly a decade since I first followed you!!) and I just wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the tireless work you’ve put in. I hope writing has been as much of a joy for you as reading has been for us! Wishing you a wonderful 2025 :))

Hi babe.

Ah, thank-you for the loves! It's so amazing to think you've been with me that long, you know? There's many of the fandom peeps that text me or send me messages that have literally been there since the first Tim Drake fic went out. My daughter was still a baby back then and she's in sixth grade now and is almost as tall as I am tbh. Crazy how much time has passed.

And, you know, the years I haven't been writing much because ah work and other interests as I finally spread out my fanfic wings to devour content rather than create, I still come back here and be amazed at the amount of fics and ficlets and stories and half-baked headcannons people are still finding and enjoying today. In the shitshow the US has become in the last year, it's a welcome feeling to know some of the depressed and down-trodden can find some kind of comfort in ass-kicking vigilantes, Doctors with hobbies, Omegas that can only run from what they need for so long, the real feeling of Welcome Home, the owfucks and attitudes and steamy accents, the birds that can only go forward - never back, the absolute slimy creep Ra's can turn out at the most inopportune moments, the array of named concussions to make them seem a little less bad, infinite cups of coffee and Grape Zestis, the cliffhangers that might never get finished, and a plethora of other things hidden in the dark niches of this blog.

Hopefully, someday I'll go back for my MA in Creative Writing and get out of Tech to do this, or a version of this, in real life. But, until I do, I might as well share just a bit of the next installment of the TimDick (maybe TimDickJay...?) Sentinel/Guide au, right?

Hm, why not? You can check it below the cut ;)

After turning down any attempt of his Sentinel to contact him (i.e. actually duck and dodging said stalkery behavior he is intimately familiar with), it all comes down to the basics less than a month after the disastrous discovery in a hotel room right after he'd played Wayne Enterprises CEO with the likes of Lex Luthor–

who will always and forever be King of the Douche Canoes, seriously

– the breakout at Black Gate is the most all hands on deck that's happened in Gotham in the last year.

Since several members of the Rogue Gallery teamed up to set the explosives, well, every Bat is expected to set-up in Gotham, and Red Robin, for as much as he's stayed the fuck out of their business in the last year, finds himself already in the city for a few meetings with Lucius about next quarter when the night sky outside Wayne Towers lights up with the very familiar symbol.

"Dammit," he breathes out, pretty much aware he could just ignore it. Considering Nightwing, the Red Hood, Batgirl, Black Bat, Robin, and B were all in the city tonight anyway.

(What's one more body between the people of Gotham and the baddies? Well, depends on the body, doesn't it?)

Lucius gives the usual suffering sigh he gives Brucie Wayne when the other mask falls away and leaves the vigilante behind.

"I guess we can pick this up tomorrow," the head of R&D tells him idly, scrolling through text alerts on his phone while Tim visibly reins himself back in to the new line of motherboards going into their medical cradles for military aid.

Tim just stays quiet for once because even though Lucius and Tam both know the big secrets, it's still not something they talk about unless a thorough sweep for bugs has happened in the last thirty minutes.

(Ninjas suck sometimes. #facts)

"It's fine. We still have a few more things we can cross off the list–" Tim starts, jaw tight when he turns away from the familiar symbol, when some things still fucking sting even though he's been doing his level-best to move the fuck forward.

Lucius hums at him and holds out his phone with a tight smile.

The quick update on Gotham's Track the Crime Spree app shows him exactly what's going down, and his truly epic facepalm is the loudest thing in the office.

The Batcomm he hacked is on mute, voices in his ear to keep up with the criminals spilling out of Blackgate and swarming the city. Not to mention some of the classics had a hand in making it happen.

The initial plan changes when the Bats start calling dibs on bad guys, throwing out their locations, heading toward the more-than-usual amount of mayhem.

He doesn't throw in on the convo, instead starts picking off the small fries that just happened to be more concerned with escaping and hiding than doing a fair amount of damage the second they hit Gotham proper.

(Really noobs)

He's running through alleyways, easy, fast, and furious to take down the low-level escapees with quick double zip ties for wrists and ankles, not even really working up a sweat.

He leaves the big times to the official night crew, deals with the small fries and enjoys the burn in his thighs as he runs.

Batgirl spots him, yelling out something before he's off again, not interested in some kind of reunion.

(And her low level shields make his back teeth ache with how vulnerable she is, how much she needs someone to strengthen them for her, how he could do it without working too hard... Dammit, the Guide in him is drawn to her with those pesky instincts he's been trying to get under control.)

His first big bad of the night comes in the form of–

Condiment King.

And just.

This guy.

He really wishes he had the time to enjoy witty banter and a long, drawn-out fight with some heavy hits. Anything to stop him from the low-level buzz on the edge of his shields he knows is Nightwing. He zip ties Buddy Sandler to a light pole and his backpack of condiments to another, he gets one good one before it’s time to move on.

“Well, I relish the win, but you and the rest are going back to jail. See ya next crime.”

Then he’s off, shooting a grapple, taking off into the night.

Mortimer Kadaver was already kidnapping a victim, and he gets a satisfying crunch when he breaks the guys nose after a look at the torture implements in the back seat of the stolen sedan. The citizen takes off without a look back, completely ignoring him to wait for the police.

He jumps on another stolen car, riding a few blocks at breakneck speed before he punches out the driver’s side window and steers the car himself.

(It’s fun when the low-level thugs don’t know what’s going on. “How are you not driving?!” “Tell the hand in the window to give me the wheel back!”)

He doesn’t get thrown when brains kicks in and the driving thug slams on the brakes, but it’s a close thing.

Instead, he’s trying not to smile when they tumble out the other side of the car on unsteady legs. It’s an easy KO when the city is literally going to shit over the comm in his ear.

Things get real when O calls everyone in on the West side where the bigger, badder B is apparently ready for a round 2 of the “break Batman’s back” challenge.

(It’s the worst possible time for that guy. The flash of memory, of being Dick’s Robin for the short stint, of working with him while Bruce had to train his body again to take on the mantle after Jean Paul had to admit defeat. The best times, the most painful memories. All of it swirling in his chest with the buzzing on the edge of his senses getting sharper, cutting into his shields. All the bullshit stories about True Pairs and here he is, tempting the bond with things like proximity and ass kicking.)

He hits the top of the water tower to check out the sitch, trying to stay out of sight, out of the way of the main family doing their things while Bane is hepped up on venom and swatting at Robin and Black Bat like flies.

No one has to say it while calling out strategy, but it’s a pretty obvious distraction play. Keep the Bats busy while the bulk of baddies get ghost. It’s classic Bane, really.

Since the venom is highly flammable and there’s a lot of vigilantes he doesn’t want to face, he does the next best thing - makes a plan.

It easy to drive KG Beast and the Baffler right up his grill without ever being seen by the Bats as the three big baddies smack into one another on the down swing of some stunning blows.

A combination of smoke pellets, knockout gas, and bo to the back of the head puts them out for the count in a move even he didn’t think was crazy enough to work.

Slam dunk. It’s buy two and get one free day.

Even better, Black B and Rob were back far enough to miss him through the smoke even though his rebound was a top notch move even for a season vigilante.

Which is why it sucks when Polka-Dot Man actually gets the drop on him because honestly, that guy. He does deliver a stunning back kick to put the B-lister down, but it does make him see double for an important enough second.

“Daw, takin’ alla the fun outta my night, Pretender,” the Red Hood drawls from a rooftop above him, the glint off shiny .45s too bright in his spotty vision. “Nice a’ ya ta actually show the fuck up fer once.”

“Honestly,” he banters back while the woozy sensation fades to a low grade headache, “how many asses in spandex does one city need?”

He gets a chuckle rather than a bullet to the head, so that is most certainly a win.

The drawback of gaining attention of the Red Hood, however, is the lack of duck and dodge that really is part of his new pseud.

Hood literally throws him over a shoulder and dives off the Wallstone Apartments while Red is still reeling from the blow, bellowing out when a meaty arm clamps on the back of his kicking legs in a very subtle warning.

“Leggo!”

“My ass. Stop yer squirming, fucker.”

“How about we compromise. Let me go and you can kick someone else’s ass?”

“Nice try. Like I dunno who yer really running from?”

“I’m fighting crime, not running you asshole!”

“Sure, sure. Ya know what they say. De Nile ain’t just a river in Egypt.”

“I don’t even live here anymore!”

“Oh? Can’t wait ta tell B ya just said that, Timmer.”

“I’m not his responsibility, didn’t you get the memo?”

Wind in his hair over the bad section of bail bondsmen and sleazy villain insurance. The plan forms while Red Hood arches his back to throw them both high in the air before the second grapple *zings* and latches on.

“I said th’ same thing at one time. Ya already know bout that shit, an’ how B didn’t give one fuck ‘bout what I hadda say.”

“The difference is you’re actually part of the fucking family, Jason!”

“Mmhm. Keep onnit, Replacement. M’comm is gettin’ alla this, n’ ya know it.”

“So what? No one’s bothered giving a crap so far!”

Did he get hit with a truth serum or is this just the concussion talking?

(R - Randal, Randal the concussion is awful and he should really stop this messy truth shit no one needs to hear.)

“Come off’n it, Timmy. Like ya don’t already know B gotcha tracked within an incha yer life? Think he just gonna let the smart one run off wi’ Shiva fer fuck’s sake?”

Even with Randal being a pain in the ass, Red has a terrifying moment of panic. They know. They all know.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, sure. Tell that ta Dickie why dontcha? I ain’t seen ‘in that pissed off inna hot minute.”

“He already knows-“

“Does he really now? Why don’tcha tell ole’ Jace all ‘bout it, hm?”

His voice through the synths sounds very not inviting.

“Randall is a fucker and he needs to lay off,” which has Hood laughing even if he doesn’t know what Red means by any of it.

They land it with a jolt — right in the middle of a brawl.

Which is just about the speed he really needs right now anyway.

Black Bat swings by with a screaming escapee dangling from one hand by his ankle while she smiles under the stitched-up mask and gives him a happy wave. The comm in his ear hasn’t fallen out so he knows the others are spaced out, corralling the others with the help of GCPD.

So, the fight is on a little more than he originally thought.

But still, the burn feels better than the low-grade concussion and the pulsing heat of Sentinels (of his Sentinel), close by. He knows Jason’s shields are fractured, held together by pure stubborn will. He knows Steph is a few blocks down, whooping it up with her shields scarily open for her senses to reach far enough out to track stragglers. B is held together the best of them all, but Dami is developing his senses now and his control is sporadic at best.

Punching the shit out of thugs takes some of the weight off the knowledge, doesn’t completely distract him from his own instincts, but distracts his brain just enough.

Leg sweeps, palm to the nose, kick to the back of the knees, a spinning whirlwind of ass kicking, back-to-back with Hood, spit blood when he takes a hit, clench his teeth when he feels the strain on Nightwing close enough to make his skin burn with it.

His chest is heaving by the time the groaning pile of bodies is down for the count and the red and blue is lighting up the night on their way. He scrambles for a grapple gun while Black B and Hood are finishing up the zip ties. But when he points it the way he wants to go, his finger won’t squeeze the trigger.

“Clean-up’s goin’ all right,” Hood reports, nudging his shoulder with the hand still holding the .45. “Lookin’ like B’s gotch some a’ th’ bomb residue ‘case ya wanna get in on that, nerd.”

“Like you’re much better,” Red rasps out, grapple in his lowered hand trembling, the pounding in his head worse than any concussion.

He knows what this is, the only thing it can be.

“Mmhm. ‘Least I don’t need a fuckin’ engraved invitation ta come back ta the Cave.”

Red’s head whips around, the whiteouts on the mask narrow in a who the fuck are you talking to? kind of way.

Hood crosses his arms over his massive chest because the guy knows when he’s feeding someone a line.

Welp, since everyone already knows apparently.

Right in front of the helmet, Red Robin shoves the grapple back in his belt and deactivates the right gauntlet with his left hand. The helmet cocks to the side in question, but Red moves with fluid grace and speed, even with Randall riding his cape, and slaps his palm on the only bare skin available, on the side of the Red Hood’s neck.

His instincts jump immediately and reach out to the dangerous cracks and crumbles in the Red Hood’s shields, the painful red throbbing of shields crumbling.

He might hear a noise out of the synths, might imagine it because what does Jason Todd owe him really?

But it’s easy, just like putting together the pieces of evidence from a crime scene. The fractured plates protecting Hood are hot to work with, a sharp sting across his brain pan (something that could be from the Pit or be just natural Jason Todd, zombie Sentinel extrodinaire), eases down with the pieces coming together, strengthening, forming a stronger metaphysical shield to give Jason a measure of peace from his own overwhelming senses. It’s a the relief of relaxing a clenched fist after the fight.

The reason Sentinels need Guides.

(Well, there’s more to it than just that, isn’t there? And Red’s brain can’t help but flinch back to those dreams, to a voice in his ear and hands on him — Guide mapping, his dream Sentinel whispered against skin.)

Red doesn’t manage to stop Hood from sinking to his knees in the aftermath, downed criminals, things on fire, GCPD almost on top them, and Black B nearly vibrating out of her mask next to them, hands hovering and afraid to touch.

Instead, he feels the reverberation of that deep noise coming straight out of the Red Hood’s chest. The relief under the constructed shield thick between them while they stand in the middle of the street.

That growling purr is almost enough, almost enough, to stop him from turning on his heel.

But the gloved hand snags the hem of his cape stops him in his tracks. his eyes blow wide behind the whiteouts and he sees a second of Hood's emblem before his literal savior, Cass, snaps him up and throws him over her shoulder before she takes off.

The night takes a turn for a "what the fuck?" when he and Black B take a few pauses to double team some of the baddies when the Red Hood loses them close to Robinson Park.

Things got more dicey when N spots them taking out Joyful Noise before the sonic blaster destroys yet another pointless sculpture. The comms erupt in a whole lot more noise in the shit show his "duck and cover crime fighting" night has devolved into.

(He's not going to focus on how his head is just a little sore instead of Randall being a right pain in the ass, isn't going to think about the implications here. He can't focus and keep moving through the baddies if he has a sane moment to wonder if it was that easy because he also...Jason-)

They manage to evade the Bats (mostly), ignoring the cajoling and usual back-and-forth once they realize Red Robin is part of crime time.

Cass does him an absolutely solid, driving them to his other, other underground bunker, letting him hang his head against her back while the air hitting them reeks of smoke, burning plastic, and gasoline. He doesn't get the underlying tinge of metal, blood, and fear -- that was from Jason's head while those shields were coming together nicely.

(When he's a full continent away, he'll have him moment of panic, but until then, Cass is totally not addressing the very obvious elephant in the bunker.)

She stays for post-patrol snacks, producing a family-sized box of Cheez-Its and some Alfred sandwiches that are somehow still cold.

They do the usual throwing off sweaty top layers, domino and mask, stare at two episodes of The Office with Zestis from the mini-fridge in the corner.

One-handed signs while they chew, hit a quick patch up job, and the night is finally over.

Cass checks the Batchat to make sure everyone made it out of the city after one hell of a night and gives no reply to the questions about Tim, much to everyone’s dismay.

The next shift of GCPD is coming on, so the city is secured for another day. She produces a backpack and changes into soft leggins, runners, and a hoodie he's pretty sure is Bruce's.

Tim does a good job on her knuckles, and she gives him a kiss on the forehead, makes him promise to stay away from screens and not to sleep for a few hours yet.

After she takes off, he breathes out a long, breath, collapses on the overstuffed couch a minute before going to the lower levels, thinking about catching up on paperwork before he's got to meet with Lucius again. A nice shower, some coffee, and he could do some work, take an actual moment --

("True Pairs, an honest Sentinel and Guide relationship, can include sharing such effects of injuries.")

He shakes the thought out, rolls his neck, and picks up his discarded utility belt, trying to find as many things to divert his attention to as possible.

The door to his lower levels slides silently open under his fingerprint and an intensive alphanumeric code, but some premonition sends a familiar chill down his spine, the vestiges of the old Robin instincts.

#winter answers #with the thing #sentinel/guide au #dicktim #dicktimjay?#who knows?#guide!tim drake #sentinel dick grayson #sentinel jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #cass cain saves the day #best big sister vibes #we can't have nice things #not beta read #thank-you for the loves babe

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physalian · 10 months ago

Text

“Endings are the hardest!” / “No, beginnings are the worst!”

I’ve never had a problem figuring out the way I want my stories to end but starting them? Yeash, that’s so much pressure. Both carry the same weight for different reasons while you have writers in both camps with legitimate arguments. One may be harder than the other on a writer-by-writer basis, but they are equally daunting.

—

So. Beginnings:

You have sometimes as little as three sentences to hook readers, at most the first chapter. I don’t even give fanfic more than the opening line sometimes (mostly because fanfic takes opening en media res to wild new heights). I’ve been working on a system of “I have one sentence to give you the setting, the protagonist, and the hook that makes this book different, go” and while it might not be perfect, it’s a starting point.

For example! The opening sentence to ENNS is:

Beneath the snowdrift of the longest blizzard Elias has ever endured, the last vampire in the dungeons has finally succeeded in taking their own life.

As someone who struggles with beginnings, I have given you five pieces of information in 25 words:

The setting, that concerns long and repeat blizzards and snow

Protagonist’s name

Establishing the existence of vampires

Establishing that those vampires are kept in dungeons

Establishing that those presumed prisoners are in such bad conditions, that they’re restoring to suicide, something vampires don’t tend to do

I think I did a pretty good job.

So much of the burden of your book is given to so few words. You can’t make it cliché, but try too hard to be unique and you risk looking pretentious. You have to establish the setting, the narrator, the initial setup and inciting incident and convince readers to pick your book out of hundreds of thousands of other options. I hate beginnings.

Best advice among an avalanche of others? Write a placeholder and come back later if it’s too daunting and frustrating because there is no writing advice that is one size fits all.

It’s entirely dependent on your genre, your demographic, the age of your protagonist and how self-aware they are, the tone of your story, your own personal writing style.

“First sentences should include THIS!”

Yeah, okay, but what if I have a better idea? Beyond that your sentence should have a hook that sets your book up as something apart from its genre neighbors, just go look at the most famous opening lines. They’re all different.

There is nothing in common between

Call me Ishmael.

and

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

And that’s the point.

—

Endings though?

Endings bear the burden of providing catharsis, or robbing you of it. Endings have to answer ‘but what does it all mean?’ and stick the landing, or they don’t. Endings can turn a TV show that took the world by storm for four magnificent seasons and drag it limping across the finish line in a finale that sucks the life out of the fandom forever.

Endings either leave you in an existential lurch staring at the ceiling, or in tears of joy or anguish, or frothing at the mouth at yet another cliffhanger. If you can’t answer ‘what does it all mean’ you have bigger problems than just your final lines.

People don’t have fan theories about your first page, they have fan theories about what comes after your last page. There are no rules to writing an ending and sometimes by its nature of being unfulfilling you become infamous.

Example: The ending of Mark of Athena, that prompted this dedication in its sequel House of Hades.

“We’re staying together,” he promised. “You’re not getting away from me. Never again.” Only then did she understand what would happen. A one-way trip. A very hard fall. “As long as we’re together,” she said. She heard Nico and Hazel still screaming for help. She saw the sunlight far, far above—maybe the last sunlight she would ever see. Then Percy let go of his tiny ledge, and together, holding hands, he and Annabeth fell into the endless darkness.

(one short Leo POV later)

Nemesis wanted him to wreak vengeance on Gaea? Leo would be happy to oblige. He was going to make Gaea sorry she had ever messed with Leo Valdez. “Yeah.” He took one last look at the cityscape of Rome, turning bloodred in the sunset. “Festus, raise the sails. We’ve got some friends to save.”

If you weren’t in this fandom when this book came out and ended with the protagonist falling into Greek Super Hell, to wait a whole year to find out what happens next—We lost our collective minds.

And then the next book opened like this:

Gettin’ a bit big for your britches there, ey, Riordan?

How you write your ending should reflect the kind of feeling you want to leave your reader with. In this case, it was anguish and despair and the pinnacle of “always leave them wanting more”. Maybe you’ve written a character who’s suffered constant setbacks to reaching their goal, and the final line is them at peace with, or without achieving it. Or it’s the final plot twist/reveal no one saw coming. Or it’s ambiguous, leaving it up to reader interpretation.

My favorite classical book ending comes from The Great Gatsby and while I had to crack open my copies of the PJO books, I know this line by heart:

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

There’s just something so melancholy and tragic about it, as it should be: Gatsby is not a happy story. That line is the answer to the thesis, that trying to live in the past and not embrace the future, not allowing yourself to move on, can only end in tragedy, and yet, so many of us do exactly that.

The image of a dinky little rowboat is always what I’ve pictured, as opposed to a ship or something more formidable. A rowboat bobbing around the thrashing waves, pitted against a force of nature it can’t ever hope to overcome, yet it endures.

The book opens on an equally melancholy note, “In my younger years…” as the protagonist reflects back on their life gone by. It’s an American classic for a reason.

Even if your final line is unspectacular, the line isn’t as important as how the narrator feels about the book being over. Quotable hashtags are great, but if the ending doesn’t feel like a proper fit, you’re going to leave readers disappointed.

—

Endings are so fricken fun though, no matter what’s at stake. It’s as cathartic for me to finish as I hope it is for the reader to read. There’s plenty of advice out there on the perfect opener or the perfect closer, the endless arguments over which is harder, and it’s all up to you in the end. They just come easy to me, I have no advice. I can picture them well before I get to the final pages and they just click into place. Beginnings, though? Ugh.

—

Thank you for 300 Followers!!!

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #beginnings #endings #starting a book

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psychopomp-namine · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! So excited to see your list of favorites. This is my first time, saw someone who love Shen Yuan, also Cheng Xiaoshi, Lelouch, and Emma, too! Diversity is beautiful....

Can you believe, that I think about Orpheus and Eurydice when I saw last episode of Link Click s2?

As Link Click fan, can I ask, your top 5 fav moments from the series (until now)? Also, why do you love Link Click (what made this special for you)?

for any link click fans reading this, the emma being referred to here is emma woodhouse from jane austen's novel, emma. this is not the emma from link click XD (although I do love her).

anon you've got to check out hadestown if you haven't already. it's orpheus and eurydice in a time loop (take into account that this is a theater production, and imagine every play is one loop). that's as shiguang as you can get. I have sooo many thoughts on link click and theater metaphors ever since they gave us those theater posters but that is a post for another time.

anyway. hi, yes, I love link click!! I'm gonna apologize in advance because I can already tell as I'm writing this that this is gonna be a long post. you've given me an excuse to write essays on this topic.

I will mostly talk about S1/S2 but there will be yingdu spoilers below.

why do I love link click? I think I just really love their motto: "past or future, let it be." be forgiving of the past, act with intention in the present, because both of those make up the future. when cheng xiaoshi dives into the past to resolve a client's regrets, he is not changing the past. he is changing their future. I really like that. although this mostly counts for S1 and S2; clearly this direction may potentially change with yingdu, which is fine with me. but this is the theme that first drew me in, and I hold "past and future, let it be" dear to my heart.

it's also just the kind of story that fires the neurons in my brain. I love stories where a late revelation re-contextualizes earlier scenes. I enjoy puzzling out the plot, regardless if we're overthinking continuity errors or not. yeah sometimes the fakeout cliffhangers in S2 are annoying. and yeah sometimes I can tell when the show is trying to make me cry, but I'm gonna let it, because the experience of watching it is enjoyable to me.

I also just love the time travel aspects of it? like, sure, some people will say link click is a story about love told through time travel. but to me, the time travel itself is a major element of the story. it's the meat of it. it runs through its themes, its conflicts, its character arcs, and even the way the show itself engages with the audience.

like, to compare with other media (and note, I absolutely love every media I'm gonna list here) (this part might be contentious, I'm sure others will disagree with me on this). erased has time travel elements, but I would say that that is a character-driven story where time travel is a story device, but not the main subject. pmmm has time loops, but to me, that show is about magical girls. the time loops are a result of homura's wish when she became a magical girl. it's a vehicle for her love for madoka, but the story itself examines the magical girl aspect of the show more than the time travel aspect. life is strange is a video game where the main character pretty much has the same abilities as cheng xiaoshi, and it's probably the closest to the type of story link click is. loved that game to bits, but making branching narratives in video games is understandably hard. it kinda sucks that, in the end, the butterfly effect only really converged to two different endings, so I feel like the concept of it didn't reach its full potential.

and again, I love each media I've listed here btw. I am not saying they're lesser or worse than link click. they're just different, and the way they treat the time travel aspects of their story is just different. like, pmmm itself is a masterpiece on its own. but anyway, I digress.

I like that link click has a character establish time travel rules, and then breaks them. I like that the show commits to closed time loops, and then doesn't. I like that it closely examines the mechanics of time travel in its world. I like that the studio is pushing how much they can do with the concept of "time travel" that it extends to how they communicate with the audience. like how, recently, we just learned that the PVs for yingdu arc actually took place in a different timeline from the yingdu we're watching now in the show. that's bananas to me. personally, I love them for doing that.

my brain loves these kinds of stories. my favorite danganronpa game is V3, and if you're familiar with this series, this should tell you how much I personally enjoy stories that try to trick me with its concepts, and stories that go meta on itself. I like svsss for the same reason. I love unreliable narrators. link click is just right up my alley.

I can go on and on about what I love about how link click uses time travel in the story. how the stories are about intimate, personal connections and personal regrets. the weight of a small action in the grand scheme of things and how it ties to the emotional core of our characters. but then this post will never end, and I would probably just rehash what this video is talking about. so go watch that instead.

also, the soundtrack is immaculate.

as for my top five favorite moments... it's funny, because I vastly prefer S1 over S2. that's just my personal preference. and yet, when I reviewed the episodes, it turns out all my favorite moments are in S2? go figure. I think it's because S2 establishes a lot of character moments that have been building up since S1, which I deeply appreciate.

here's the tl;dr of my favorite moments thus far (in chronological order). you asked why, and I will explain why under the cut.

S1E10: "the game is over."

S2E5: "after you get the doll, remember to show an appropriate... look of happiness."

S2E8: "you know what? I have a younger brother."

S2E12: "if you don't have the guts for that, how can you be my friend?"

S2E12: "time is a hypocritical construct"

I did not include yingdu moments in this yet because with a show like link click, some scenes become more interesting in retrospect than while watching in the moment. so I'll let yingdu finish what it's doing first and let it marinate in my brain for a bit.

gonna put the reasons under a read more cut because oh boy it's gonna be long. it turned into several character analyses along the way. I am so so sorry about this. I can't turn my brain off and I can't shut up about this show.

top five favorite moments: (in chronological order)

S1E10 - "the game is over." this is quite literally the coolest scene in all of link click. no scene has surpassed this scene imo. it accomplishes several things exceptionally well, all condensed in one single moment.

one, it shows that despite lu guang's own fears, he decided to trust cheng xiaoshi with leading the operation. perhaps you could say he didn't really have a choice, since he couldn't forcefully exit cheng xiaoshi out of xu shanshan's body, and so he couldn't do anything but help cheng xiaoshi trap liu min in the darkroom. but either way, this is still a monumental moment for him. it doesn't seem that way at first in S1, but with the context of S2E12 and YE1, it's surprising he'd let cheng xiaoshi do this at all. that he'd let cheng xiaoshi lead, or that he'd even trap him alone with a serial killer in the darkroom. you know, where he previously died? that's a massive amount of trust to give. he could have just as easily trap himself with cheng xiaoshi and liu min in that room. but he couldn't, because he had to contact the police while cheng xiaoshi distracted liu min and got a confession out of him. and if he wants the plan to work, lu guang had to (whether he's forced to or not) trust that cheng xiaoshi can handle himself in that room. that cheng xiaoshi won't die.

maybe cheng xiaoshi isn't the only one who has grown in this timeline? it's a very... optimistic interpretation of this scene, I admit. but lu guang's actions in this scene is fascinating to me in retrospect.

two, it shows that cheng xiaoshi can be a tricky and clever planner — in fact, this is a defining character trait for him. lu guang is the meticulously analytical one, the one who plans out every detail to the last minute. cheng xiaoshi is the one who thinks outside the box and sees the loopholes. and mind you, this was planned. cheng xiaoshi was working on this plan even before he told lu guang what he wanted to do. there's a scene earlier before the dive where we see cheng xiaoshi setting up pictures in the darkroom. he only told lu guang about the plan once he was possessing xu shanshan.

director li describes cheng xiaoshi similarly: (I love how he's defensive over cheng xiaoshi's intelligence)

"the thing is, cheng xiaoshi seems flippant, but you saw him at the end of the first season. he can be pretty clever when it's crunch time. I had a lot of classmates who performed badly in class, but they got their scores up from 60 to 90 in just two months, right before the national college entrance examinations. these kinds of people do exist. that sort of cleverness is incredible. it's something you're born with."

three, this scene perfectly makes use of the time travel rules this show has established thus far. the closed timeloop (the call liu min made in the morning can only happen because cheng xiaoshi provoked him into playing a game, which only happened because cheng xiaoshi already got the call). the clever use of photos to "teleport" but also to resolve regrets, because cheng xiaoshi used photos of the victims.

I love how danny motta describes it in his reaction:

"[lu guang] literally trapped this guy inside of [cheng xiaoshi's] boss arena. I never considered how much fucking power and authority [cheng xiaoshi] has in this room specifically."

and finally, how awesome is it to hear the beeping of overthink at the end of the episode, and instead of being filled with dread because of a cliffhanger that could potentially put our favorite characters in danger, you're instead hyped because you just know cheng xiaoshi is gonna fuck up the main bad guy of the season. it's such a great reversal of how they have been using overthink for the past episodes.

it's like the show saying, "remember how worried you felt at the end of each episode before this? that's how liu min should feel right now, because cheng xiaoshi is absolutely gonna fuck him up next episode."

it's just so many great elements of the story condensed into one, single badass moment. this is link click at its peak for me.

S2E5 - "after you get the doll, remember to show an appropriate... look of happiness"

when I watched this scene, I thought, "oh. so li tianxi is the mirror to cheng xiaoshi." and of course S2 continues with this mirroring with the running scenes, the film strips, and so on.

but I love the look of surprise from lu guang in this scene. cheng xiaoshi, as li tianxi, was already looking happy before lu guang even finished his sentence. because cheng xiaoshi was happy. and why wouldn't he be? he gets to spend a morning with a loving mother.

in this moment, cheng xiaoshi and li tianxi were in sync.

it highlights cheng xiaoshi's empathy and how sometimes that empathy can be something so personal to him. it highlights his sincerity and naivete, and even li tianxi's too. it's a great character moment for both of them.

S2E8 - "you know what? I have a younger brother."

this is great character moment for qiao ling. I love her relationship with cheng xiaoshi, but the way she communicated with li tianxi also deserves praise. I've already talked about qiao ling extensively here, and I feel like I'll just rehash everything I said before, so I won't repeat them here. I'll just highlight the parts that are relevant to this scene:

she's the one who truly connected with tianxi and knew how to communicate with her — even better than cheng xiaoshi could, and cheng xiaoshi was the one who actually got to live as tianxi. [qiao ling] is the person that gained tianxi's trust and knew how to meet her where she's at.

I love any moment that qiao ling gets to shine, but especially the ones where she is defined and forms connections outside of shiguang. and actually, that's her job in the supernatural business of the photo studio! she's the one who seeks out and communicates with clients! so of course she's the one who'd be able to communicate with li tianxi.

S2E12 - "if you don't have the guts for that, how can you be my friend?"

liu xiao doesn't do much in S2, but I've come to really like his character. this is also an important character moment for li tianchen.

I will admit, the reason this entered my top five scenes is rooted in half canon, half headcanon. but I think this scene says a lot about xiaochen's relationship. notice how liu xiao reached out to li tianchen with bare hands. li tianchen went from living with a clown villain who always wears gloves (sorry, but qian jin was a joke) to partnering with someone who will let him touch his hand despite knowing li tianchen can possess people through touch.

but! you also have to read this in the context of all of liu xiao's interactions with li tianchen thus far, and all the warnings studio lan has given us about not trusting the guy. he's a mastermind. he's a manipulator.

so, here's the headcanon territory. liu xiao is probably manipulating him, and I think li tianchen is a little bit aware of it too tbh. but even if he knows, he lets him, because what else does he have? he always looked up to liu xiao anyway. li tianchen is probably doomed, even more than cheng xiaoshi. but then again, have you seen the lyrics to prometheus? does li tianchen even care at this point? he lost his sister. he left his phone behind; he's leaving the past behind. liu xiao is the only one he can trust.

li tianchen is the actual most doomed character in link click, for me. like, I can imagine a happy ending for shiguang, but it's really hard at this point not to think of li tianchen getting the Bad Ending™

liu xiao, the mastermind, being the one to first reach out, unafraid that li tianchen can possess him at any time, is such a great introduction to their partnership. he is li tianchen's light the way lu guang is cheng xiaoshi's.

I'm really hoping for xiaochen to be the foil to shiguang in S3. like, li tianchen knows he's being strung along. turn that into a foil for S3!cxs who discovers that lu guang has been hiding something from him all this time, that perhaps he even made up the time travel rules to control the timeline and avoid cheng xiaoshi's death. there's a lot of potential for liu xiao and lu guang foiling too, especially with themes of "control" over the timelines.

again, this is mostly speculation, but idk. I think xiaochen just has a lot of potential.

S2E12 - "time is a hypocritical construct"

link click knows how to do a finale. even when you know from episode 1 (from the brief showing of dead cheng xiaoshi in lu guang's mind, or the XƎTЯOVerthink mv) that this was gonna be the reveal, it doesn't dampen the execution of the scene.

like I said earlier, I love when a late revelation re-contextualizes the whole story, and this is THE prime example for that. this scene instantly gives lu guang's character sooooo much depth, and all his interactions with cheng xiaoshi in S1 and S2 has extra layers in them when you rewatch the episodes. when he calls cheng xiaoshi an idiot for joking about hanging himself in S1. when he gets mad that cheng xiaoshi dived into security footage to tail liu min without lu guang to guide him. when he loses his shit when qian jin shot cheng xiaoshi. even the chibi short where qiao ling does tarot and lu guang hides his card from cheng xiaoshi becomes more and more interesting (qiao ling notices him hiding it too).

love a guy that dooms himself.

the weight of his tragedy also makes me appreciate the small moments of peace he gets as well, especially in the chibi shorts. I am incredibly fond of the elizabeth episode for this reason. lu guang is timelooping; how can he think of treating each timeline as "home" when he could potentially fail again and again? at first he didn't want to keep elizabeth, but he clearly does, and he was sad when she had to leave. I like to think that in a happy ending, shiguang gets to keep a pet cat. it's a commitment to this particular timeline. it's to say, "this is home."

what really elevates the scene is the use of mastermind as the insert song. lu guang reveals that he's been breaking his own time travel rules since the beginning, and then we hear "time is a hypocritcal construct" in the background? 11/10, no notes.

but beyond that, there's something else I love about mastermind being the finale song. I'll just copy my tags from this post. I love that the lyrics of mastermind uses the same metaphors we associate with liu xiao:

“destiny is just my game but it's all you're counting on right now”

“the hunter when a prey lies / it's just what the world's like”

“mastermind stays in the dark”

“can't you see it's checkmate?”

I just think it's so cool that liu xiao doesn't really... do anything (that we see) in S2. but he still gets the last word through this song. like that's such a mastemind thing to do. idk, idk, that's just so cool to me.

okay, that's it. I don't expect everyone to read my word vomit but if you reached this point, thanks for reading lol. and again, sorry anon for answering with an essay. like I said, I cannot shut up about this show.

#ask me stuff #anon #liveblogging link click #actually yeah. sure. i'll tag it #link click #link click meta #this took me forever to write. i know anon did not expect an essay. again sorry about that

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harley-sunday · 2 years ago

Text

Feels Like Home [07]

Summary: When an unexpected three-week break between Monza and Singapore finds Daniel back on his farm in Perth he’s desperate to use this time to clear his mind, figure out his future in Formula One, and find his way back. He didn’t expect a new neighbour, a sassy two-year old, and three alpacas would make him realise that sometimes, what you’re looking for is right in front of you.

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 5.2k

AN: The cliffhanger in the last part might have been a bit mean, I agree. BUT. We needed a little drama, babes. It ain’t all fun and games over on the farm. Anyway, hope this makes up for it :) If not, you know where to find me ♥

Masterlist

Granddad knows something is wrong the second you walk back inside and the door slams shut behind you and he points to the couch immediately, "Sit." He waits until you do before he continues, his voice more gentle this time, "Start talking."

There’s no use pretending everything’s fine and so you do as you’re told. You tell him about Blake and the NDA he wants you to sign, but before you get to tell him how upset it's made you, Granddad interrupts you with a chuckle that you feel is terribly out of place and earns him one of your better scowls.

"Sweetheart," he starts, giving the bottom of your foot a soft kick to get you to listen, "we all signed one."

"What?"

"When Danny first moved in he and Blake did a little tour of the neighbourhood and made all of us sign one of those forms. Me, Mrs Mackenzie, Kevin Holmes- Anyone really."

Huh. That's- Something you definitely wished you knew sooner.

"To be honest, I thought you'd already signed one," Granddad says with a kind smile. "You two have been hanging out so much I figured he'd already given you one. That's why I never mentioned it."

Letting your bottom lip roll between your teeth, the anger from before slowly ebbing away, you start to feel as though maybe you overreacted the tiniest bit. You're still mad Blake sprung it on you like this but yeah, ok, it kind of makes sense that he wants you to sign one. Fuck.

It's then you hear a car door slam shut and see Daniel drive off, a trail of dust following his car. All of a sudden it feels as if the air is being sucked from your lungs because he’s leaving tomorrow and what if- You look up at Granddad, "I messed up, didn't I?"

"Nah," Granddad shakes his head. "You got put on the spot and you know as well as I do us Lintons don't like that. He doesn't leave until tomorrow right?"

You nod.

"See. There you go. Plenty of time to make this right, sweetheart." Granddad leans back in his chair then as if it really is that simple.

Maybe it is.

Ellie walks over to you from where she was playing with her wooden train and holds up her arms to you. When you pull her onto your lap she gently pats your cheek, "Momma sad?"

You shake your head and quickly reassure her, "Momma's ok." You let your chin rest on the top of her head and let out a heavy sigh, "Momma just needs to figure out how to fix things."

"Come with?"

"Yeah." You can't help but laugh. "Yeah bub, I guess you can come with."

***

"I just wish you would have told me." Daniel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he paces around his living room. "You put me in a right spot, mate."

"I know," Blake agrees quietly. "Do you want me to call her or go over there to see if-"

"Nah, I'll- I'll figure something out," Daniel tells him, waving his hand around. "I just hope she'll understand."

"She will." He can hear Blake take a deep breath, "Just tell her I was being a right cunt and went rogue."

Daniel can't help but chuckle, "Will do." It’s then the intercom rings and he doesn't want to get his hopes up but he can feel his heart skip a beat because who else could it be? "I gotta go, mate. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"I really am sorry, Dan," Blake tells him. "I owe you one."

Daniel laughs, knowing full well it's usually the other way around, "I'll add it to the list, mate."

As soon as he ends the call he pushes the button in his intercom and waits for the camera to come on and confirm who he hopes is his visitor. He feels a wave of relief wash over him when he sees her now familiar face come into view, "Hi."

“Hi,” she looks into the camera but before she can say anything else he's already opened the gate and he sees her let out a deep breath before she gets back into her car and heads down the driveway.

He waits for her outside, using one of the meditation exercises Michael always makes him do to help calm his nerves as he tries to figure out what to say to her. All too soon and yet not quick enough her car comes into view and he takes a few deep breaths in a futile attempt to prepare himself for whatever comes next.

When she pulls up he has to stop himself from rushing over and waits until she’s out of the car before he greets her with a quiet, “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, a small, hesitant smile tugging on the corner of her lips. Instead of walking towards him she rounds the car and opens the back door and he’s a little confused but then he hears an excited, “Danny!” coming from the other side of the car and sees Ellie beaming at him.

“Hello Miss Ellie.” Daniel starts to hold out his hands to take her but then realises she might not want him to and so he drops them. To say he’s a little surprised when she hands him Ellie anyway would be an understatement, and somewhere deep inside he hopes that this means things are on the mend for them but he doesn’t want to think it out loud. Doesn’t want to jinx it.

“Danny home,” Ellie says, patting his cheek with her hand.

Daniel can’t help but laugh, “Yeah. Danny home, sweetheart.” He looks at her then and nods to the house, “Why don’t we go inside?” He leads them to the kitchen, where he sits Ellie down on the countertop, one hand keeping her in place while he reaches for two mugs with the other. “Coffee?”

He hears her clear her throat, “I think we should talk first.”

Shit. She sounds serious but of course he agrees, “Yep. Ok.”

***

“I overreacted,” you blurt out, wanting to make sure he knows you’re not here to blame him for anything. You hesitate but then put your hand on his arm anyway, “I’m sorry.”

Daniel furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything and-

“Granddad told me you have everyone sign an NDA and, I mean, it makes sense- You wouldn’t want to have to worry about anyone running to the press or your competitors with inside information, right?” You’re rambling, you know you are but now that you’ve started it’s hard to stop because you need him to understand, “It was a little unexpected, that’s all. It felt like we were about two merge to companies instead of us dating and-”

“Are we?”

“Are we what?” You feign innocence because as soon as you mentioned dating you realised you put a label on something that might not even exist yet. You should have kept it casual, should have just said something about you being friends because now there’s this weight behind it that you’re not sure Daniel wants to carry. You’re a single mum with a kid. He’s a Formula One race car driver. There is no way this could be as serious as you’re making it out to be.

You’re too lost in thoughts to notice he’s taken a step closer and so when he puts his fingers under your chin to make you look up at him you let out a surprised, “Oh.”

There’s a hint of a smile playing on his face when he asks, “Are we dating?”

You bite your lip and shrug, trying to play it cool, because you might as well go all in now, “You did take me on a date.”

“I did,” Daniel says, his voice low.

Next to him Ellie coos and it pulls both of you out of whatever moment you were having. You can’t help but laugh when you see your daughter looking from you to Daniel and back and so you pick her up, “Why don’t we put you on the couch with my phone for a couple of minutes, huh?” You look up at Daniel, “I’ll be right back.”

“Yep.”

Once Ellie’s seated you find an episode of The Koala Brothers online and press play as you put your phone on her lap. To buy you and Daniel even more time you hand her a fruit pouch, “Here you go, bub.” You tilt her chin up and point to the kitchen, “Momma and Danny are right there ok? We can still see you.”

Ellie nods absentmindedly, not wanting to miss another second of the adventures of Frank and Buster.

You make your way back to the kitchen, where Daniel’s exactly where you left him. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the herd of butterflies that’s stomping around in your stomach, “Where were we?”

Daniel, bless him, plays his part, “I just confirmed I took you on a date.”

“Right,”

“And after that I was going to apologise.”

You look up at him with furrowed brows, “What? Why?”

“Because I should have talked to you about this-” he says as he runs a hand through his hair, letting it rest at the base of his neck then. “I didn’t know Blake would ambush you like this but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have at least warned you it was going to happen at some point.”

“A little heads up would have been nice,” you agree, “but I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I should have just talked to you about it instead of making rash decisions. I feel like such an idiot-”

“Hey. No,” Daniel shakes his head and reaches out to you. “Don’t say that.”

“I just-” You try to smile, deciding to jump straight to the most important question of all, “Are we good?”

“We’re good,” Daniel replies without hesitation. He holds out both his arms to you then and pulls you in for a hug, “All good.”

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close, “Good.”

“There is something else I want to talk to you about,” he says as he lets go of you not much later. Daniel takes a step back and leans against the counter and when he takes a deep breath you’re a little worried he’s going to say something you’re not going to like but once again he surprises you, “I hate that I have to leave tomorrow. These past two weeks- Hanging out with you, and Ellie, and Oscar- It was amazing and I’m going to miss you guys like crazy but-” Another deep breath, “I was hoping we could see each other again? After the season is over?”

“I’d like that,” you reply, ignoring the way your heart seems to skip a few beats.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree with a nod.

Daniel smiles, “Good. Because I like you. A lot.”

Oh.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to wait two months but-”

“I’ll wait.” It comes out barely above a whisper and so you try again, a little louder and more confident this time, “I’ll wait.”

Daniel’s entire face lights up at your promise, “You will?”

“Yeah, I uh-” You take a deep breath and look up at him, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips, “I really like you too.”

Daniel pushes himself off the counter and takes a step forward, closing the distance between you. He looks from your eyes to your mouth and back, silently asking for permission that you give him by tilting your head back.

You wrap your arms around his neck and stand up on your toes so you can meet him halfway, his lips ghosting over yours then, making you smile into the kiss when he deepens it. There are no fireworks, no orchestra that plays the right song at the right time, but still it feels as though you’re in a movie and you’re being swept off your feet.

Daniel has put his hands on your lower back and runs his tongue in between your lips as he pulls you closer. When you part your mouth his tongue slips inside and then you taste him and God, you never want this to stop. You can feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, liking the way he makes you work for it, always teasing and a push and pull between you that feels so-

“Momma!”

Both you and Daniel pull back at the same time, panting a little, and you’re sure your embarrassed grin matches the one Daniel’s wearing. You clear your throat, keeping your eyes locked on Daniel’s, “Yes, bub?”

“Momma, done,” Ellie says and there’s really no arguing with that, is there?

“I’m not sure if she means the episode or us,” you laugh quietly, raising your eyebrows at Daniel. You watch Ellie as she slides down the couch and wobbles over to the kitchen, scooping her up in your arms when she’s within reach and blowing a raspberry on her cheek, “Hello little monster.”

Ellie giggles and squirms in your arms, “Momma, no.”

“Momma, yes,” Daniel says then, blowing a raspberry on her other cheek. “Gotcha!”

You and Daniel continue your coordinated attack, making Ellie giggle even louder. When after a minute or so you pull back Ellie looks at you with bright eyes, “Momma, stay here?”

***

They spend the rest of the afternoon in his garden, Ellie running around and chasing birds and butterflies, while she and Daniel watch the little girl from where they’re sitting on the top step on his back porch, enjoying a cup of coffee and some Michael-approved snacks Daniel found in the fridge. He remembers something then and stands up rather abruptly, making her look up at him with furrowed brows, “Shit. Sorry, I just- I forgot I had something for you guys.” He turns around and heads towards the gate that leads to the courtyard, “Wait here, ok?”

He doesn’t wait for a reply but instead makes his way to where he parked his truck and opens the door, grabbing two packages from the passenger’s seat. He wrapped them himself this morning and so what if he used some leftover Christmas paper? It’s the thought that counts, right? Daniel hurries back to the garden and finds them exactly where he left them two minutes ago, except this time Ellie has sat down in the grass, admiring a bumblebee that’s flying around her.

“Ellie?” He motions for the little girl to come over, “I’ve got something for you, kiddo.”

It takes some time for Ellie to get up and make her way over, Daniel holding out his hand to her when she reaches the stairs, helping her climb up and sit down in between them.

“I wanted to give you this yesterday but then I forgot and-” He hands Ellie the smaller of the two packages first, “Here you go.”

“Thank,” Ellie says as she tears into the paper, scrunching her nose in delight when she sees what it is.

“That’s a pretty sweater, bub.”

“It’s from the latest merch release,” Daniel explains as he hands her the larger package, “I got one for you too. Maybe-” He clears his throat, feeling a little embarrassed all of a sudden. “I figured maybe you could wear it when you watch a race? I know Oscar still wears that Red Bull shirt I gave him years ago but I didn’t really wanted you in McLaren merch so I-”

“Thank you,” she says as she helps Ellie put on her sweater, pointing out the lemons on the front as she tugs the fabric down. She unwraps her own package then, smiling when she holds up her sweater and admires the print, “Did you know I love peaches or was that just a lucky guess?”

“Lucky guess,” he admits with a grin, a happy feeling spreading inside his chest because of all the lucky guesses he’s made so far, this might be the one he’s most proud of.

He watches her as she stands up and puts it on before she spreads her arms and spins around, “I love it. Thank you.”

“No worries,” he replies with a shrug even though seeing her wearing his merch makes him feel all sorts of things. “It’s nice knowing you got people back home rooting for you.”

She sits back down, a little closer this time, pulling Ellie into her lap, “I can’t believe you have to leave tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. He nudges her shoulder with his, tries to keep his tone light, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Ellie snuggles into her then and lets out a yawn.

“We should probably head back,” she says but doesn’t move.

“Yeah.” Daniel wishes he could stop time, just stay here, right in this exact moment. He offers the next best thing, “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she says as she looks up at him. “You’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

He starts to protest, “It’s not that early-”

“Daniel,” she says, her free hand on his knee, “we’re going to have to say goodbye eventually anyway.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, “I know.”

She gives him a small smile as she strokes Ellie’s hair, “You’re gonna say goodbye to Danny, bub?”

Ellie looks up at Daniel with a sleepy smile but shakes her head.

“I have to leave tomorrow,” Daniel explains, holding out his hands to the little girl who climbs onto his lap without hesitating and he pushes the fleeting thought that she might not remember him when he comes back all the way to the back of his mind and presses a kiss to the top of her head instead, “I’ll be back soon, ok?”

“Come with?”

Daniel chuckles softly, “Nah, sweetheart. You can’t come with this time.”

“Danny come home.” It’s not even a question, Ellie looking up at him with a determined look on her face, as if she wants to let him know that if she can’t come with him, he’s going to have to come home with her.

“I will,” Daniel promises, hugging Ellie tight. “Soon.”

***

You watch as Daniel leans into the car and kisses Ellie’s forehead. When he whispers a quiet, “See you soon, sweetheart,” you feel your throat tightening and you have to bite your lip to keep the tears at bay.

Daniel steps back and turns to you then, a sad smile playing on his lips. He holds out his arms and pulls you closer when you step into his embrace, “I’m going to miss you, neighbour.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly. Wrapping your arms around him you try to blink away the tears that have started to form in your eyes but fail miserably. When you pull back you let your hands rest on his chest and look up at him, “Please be safe.”

“Always,” he says. He kisses the top of your head, “Take care of the girls for me? And Oscar. And Ellie?”

She nods, “Always.”

“Take care of yourself too,” Daniel adds, raising his eyebrows.

“Yep.”

“Good.” He cups your face then, using his thumb to wipe away a tear that’s inching its way down your cheek, “I’ll be back before you know it. And it’s not like I’m disappearing off of the face of the earth, right? We can call and text and-”

You nod, not trusting your voice right now. When he dips his head and captures your mouth in a kiss you close your eyes and try to savour the moment. Sixty three days, you try to tell yourself.

Sixty three days until he’s home again.

***

For the first time in maybe forever, Daniel doesn’t want to go back to racing, doesn’t to leave Perth, and it’s- It’s a weird feeling, something he doesn’t quite know how to deal with, doesn’t quite know how to put into words and so he’s in a bit of a mood all throughout their travels on Tuesday. By the time they touchdown in Singapore, he’s over it and he doesn’t really say much during their transfer to the hotel, puts his headphones on instead, trying to ignore the looks Michael and Blake throw him. He feigns a headache and opt outs of dinner that evening, allowing himself to wallow in some self pity instead.

There’s a team briefing early Wednesday morning and Daniel tries to pay attention, really he does, but he finds his mind drifting, wondering how she’s doing and if the girl’s are alright and- Lando kicks his feet under the table then and when Daniel looks up he finds the entire room looking at him, no doubt waiting for an answer to a question he hasn’t heard. Lando, bless him, saves the day and pretends the question was directed towards him and answers for the both of them.

As soon as the briefing ends, Lando catches up with him. “You alright, mate?”

“Yeah, just a little tired,” Daniel lies.

“You came in from Perth, mate,” Lando counters with a grin, clapping Daniel’s back, “it’s not like you’re jetlagged, right?”

Daniel shrugs but doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll be alright,” Lando says, veering off to his side of the garage. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yep,” Daniel gives his teammate a quick wave and heads over to his team.

The rest of the day drags on, more meetings, more data to look at, more promises by Tom that this time they might even finish inside the points. Blake rescues him somewhere around six, ushering Daniel back to the hotel with relative ease. Their meeting with Christian isn’t until later that night but Daniel still needs to freshen up and he knows Blake wants to go over some final details before they leave.

When Daniel steps out of the shower not much later, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist while he uses another one to dry his hair, and checks his phone he’s surprised to see there’s a message from her. He opens as he walks out of the bathroom and sees it’s a picture of her and Ellie, wearing the sweaters he gave them last Sunday, telling him good luck for tonight.

“You’re grinning like an absolute idiot, mate,” Blake teases from where he’s sitting on the couch. “You good?”

“Why are you still here?” Daniel counters without looking up from his phone.

“We have to leave in twenty minutes, mate.”

“And?”

“And-” Blake grins and shrugs, “-someone has to make sure you actually get ready and not stare at your phone for another half hour, like some goddamn teenager who’s experiencing his first crush.” He stands up and holds out his hand, “Give me that.”

Daniel lets out a dramatic sigh but then hands over his phone anyway, knowing Blake has a point.

“Thank you,” Blake tells him with a grin as he sits down again. He nods towards the bathroom, “You’ve got eighteen minutes to get ready, mate. Get going.”

***

“Momma, help,” Ellie says, holding out her now dirty hands. You’re outside in the vegetable garden to plant some lettuce and green beans, or at least, that’s what you’re doing. Ellie apparently decided it would be more fun to try and dig for gold with her bare hands.

“Come here, you monster,” you tell her, making her clap her hands together to get the worst of it off before you wipe them clean on your sweater. “There you go.”

“Thank.”

Your phone rings then and when you pull it out of your back pocket and see it’s a video call from Daniel, you can’t help but smile and motion for Ellie to come closer, “It’s Danny, bub.” You sit down on the edge of one of the raised planters and take the call just as you pull Ellie onto your lap, “Hey you.”

“Hi,” Daniel beams back. “Hi Miss Ellie.”

“Danny,” Ellie exclaims, smiling widely.

“How are you doing, ladies?” Daniel seems to be in his hotel room and for a moment you wonder why he isn’t at the track but then you remember it’s still only nine-thirty or so.

“We’re good, right bub?”

Ellie nods enthusiastically, “‘m going potty!”

You can’t help but laugh, even more so when you see Daniel’s confused face, and so you explain, “Yesterday she told me she doesn’t want to wear diapers anymore so we’re trying to be a big girl and go to the toilet, huh bub?” Ellie nods and you throw Daniel a wink, “I think Isabella not wearing one might have heavily influenced her.”

“That’s good though, right?” Daniel looks at Ellie, “You’ve got this, sweetheart.”

You smile at him, “How are you?”

“Yeah, good.” He sits up a little, “We leave in ten minutes or so, but I figured I could give you a call first.”

“How was your meeting yesterday?”

Daniel narrows his eyes at you but there’s still a hint of a smile somewhere, “Did you send that NDA to Blake yet?”

You let out a laugh, “I did.”

“Good.” His usual grin is back then, “No, yeah, we’re working on it. They’re doing some final tweaks to the contract on their end and uh- Yeah, we should be ready to sign before the end of the season.”

“So you’re going back?”

Daniel nods slowly, his smile growing even wider, “I am.”

***

He gets his best result of the season in Singapore, a fifth place that no one was expecting, least of all him.

Some journos say it’s because he’s finally getting used to the car, while other 'experts' think it’s because a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders now that he’s in the final stages of his McLaren contract but none of them are right. It isn’t because of the car or leaving McLaren or- It’s because he finally knows what his future holds.

He’s going home.

***

“Ellie, wake up, bub,” you gently stroke your daughter’s cheek so as not to scare her as she wakes up from her nap. When she opens her eyes you smile at her, “Hi sleepyhead. It’s time to go watch Danny race, remember?”

“Danny,” Ellie sighs, pushing herself up and holding out her arms so you can pick her up.

You last spoke to Daniel on the phone on Tuesday, when he called after landing in Suzuka, but you have been texting pretty much every single day and so you know Suzuka holds both some good and bad memories for him. The Japanese Grand Prix is one of the last races you can watch without having to get up in the middle of the night because of the time difference and so you promised him you’d watch the race together with Granddad and Ellie.

“You want to wear Danny’s sweater?”

Ellie nods, “Danny go car racing.”

“Yep,” you tell her as you help her into the sweater. “Danny’s going to go super fast, bub.”

Granddad’s already got the TV on by the time you make it downstairs and you hand over Ellie to him so you can warm up her bottle and slice an apple for her. You make it back just when the formation lap starts and so you point out Daniel’s car to Ellie, “There’s Danny.”

“You remember what number Danny has?” Granddad asks your daughter, laughing then when she proudly holds up five fingers but says, “Three.”

“That’s right,” Granddad says, kissing the top of her head. “Clever girl.”

You take a quick selfie of the three of you and send it to Daniel, because even though he won’t see it until after the race you want him to know you were cheering for him.

***

Somehow they settle into a rhythm quite easily after Suzuka where they text each other daily and Daniel makes sure to video call at least once a week, usually on Tuesdays when, except for workouts with Michael, he doesn’t have much else planned.

After Suzuka he goes on to Austin, where he has a week off and finds himself hanging out with some of his Stateside mates, who somehow all comment on how much more relaxed he seems. He lets them believe it’s because he’s four races away from leaving McLaren but both Blake and Michael give him a look that tells him they know better.

Austin proves to be a disaster and he even finishes one place lower than where he started. There’s a message from her, after the race, telling him they’re still rooting for him, a picture of her and Ellie attached that makes him realise there are more important things in life than winning a race.

Daniel’s in Mexico City when he gets a message from her early Thursday morning and not at all at a time she should be awake and so for a moment he’s worried something has happened but then he opens the picture and sees two fluffy newborn alpacas huddled close to their mothers and he hits the call button without thinking twice.

She answers on the first ring, “Hey.”

He’s a little taken aback by how exhausted she sounds but he guesses a double alpaca birth does that to a person, “Hey. Congratulations!” He can’t help but tease her, “So, are you a grandmother now or-”

“Daniel Ricciardo,” she bites back but he can hear the smile in her voice, “take that back.”

He laughs, “I kid, I kid. How are the ladies doing?”

“They’re good. Betsy’s a little unsure of what it means to be a mother but I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

He nods even though she can’t see him, “Who else gave birth? Babs?”

“Yep.” He hears her tell one of the girls to move before she comes back to him, “Blanche shouldn’t be too far behind either.”

“And how are you?”

She scoffs, “Tired. It’s been non stop for the past three days but-”

“How’s Oscar doing?”

She must know what he really wants to ask because she tells him, “He’s good. Walking is much easier now but he’s still a bit unsteady on his feet, you know? And he gets tired rather quickly so I’d rather have him watch Ellie than help me deliver some alpacas.”

Daniel hears what she’s saying but still, “Yeah, but-”

“I know, ok? I know, but it is what it is.” She clears her throat, “The laundry can wait another day or two and so what if the windows aren’t clean? Like I said, Blanche shouldn’t be too far behind and they should be fine on their own after a couple of days anyway so-”

“Gotcha,” he says. He can feel she’s getting annoyed and he doesn’t want her to feel like she needs to defend herself and so he quickly adds, “Well, if you need any help coming up with a name for one of them, let me know. I got a few nice ones up my sleeve.”

“Such as?”

“Reginald if it’s a boy,” he deadpans and he relishes in the laugh it draws from her, “and Mildred if it’s a girl.”

“Right,” she draws out, still laughing.

“What?” Daniel feigns innocence, “I think they’re great.” He doesn’t, not really, but at least he’s made her laugh and that’s all that matters. “I should probably let you get back to the girls, huh?”

“I was just about to head home actually.”

“Good, go get some sleep.” He lowers his voice then, “I’ll talk to you soon, ok? You got this.”

She sighs, “Yeah.”

Once the call is disconnected he turns his phone in his hands over and over again, trying to figure out if there’s anything he can do to help her.

Maybe there is.

#Daniel Ricciardo #F1 Fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo x reader #DR3 #F1 Imagine #Harley Sunday x Daniel Ricciardo #Feels Like Home

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