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unholyhelbig · 9 months ago

Note

Your Oversight story is so amazing, I’m obsessed truly. I need some domestic fluff with Nat, reader, and Ronnie. Like making cookies for Ronnie’s class or something!!! Thank you for feeding my mafia boss obsession!

Title: Little Marksman [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha's mother makes an impromtu visit to the United States, sending Natasha and Yelena into a sprial about how their mother will react to their partners.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): None, I think, just fluff!, and horrible grammar

[a/n: This isn't exactly the fluff you requested, but I think it's pretty fluffy! Thank you all for the oversight requests, I promise, I'll get to them soon!]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Natasha Romanoff did not often allow herself to indulge in the simple things. Sleeping in had long been a thing of the past, she’d spring up at the first chirp of an alarm and spend her mornings in a ritual of freshly pressed coffee, a long run that would coat her in a sheen of sweat, and then finally sitting down to attend to the boring side of business.

That, of course, had changed when she welcomed you into her life. You were decidedly not a morning person and would grumble until you found her alarm clock in the dark, shutting it off and pinning Natasha down with your dead weight as you fell back into a deep slumber. She hadn’t the heart to move you.

Then, when Veronica had gotten her own room there were some nights when Natasha would stir from her vigilant sleep. She’d startle, really. Your daughter was mostly silent during the day and happened to be worse at night. She would stand at the bottom of the bed, contemplating waking you.

It only ever bothered you after you watched the ring for the first time. After that, you would sense her presence and it seemed like Natasha was the same. She sat up and blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hi baby,” Natasha croaked, “are you alright?”

Natasha saw the silhouette of Ronnie shake her head and the woman looked sparingly at you. Light breathes escaped you, dead to the world. She heard the little word, barely a whisper. “Nightmare.”

It tugged at Natasha’s heart to the point where it was almost painful. She wanted to wrap her up that first night, pull her close until she wasn’t afraid of whatever had plagued her in her dreams. Tentatively, she scooted to the far side of the mattress and patted the space she’d created between the both of you.

Veronica snuggled under the blankets, shivering as her cold began to ebb away. Natasha felt stiff for a moment, lying on her back. She could feel your daughter’s body heat against her, and made the conscious choice not to move closer.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” She eventually whispered. “I’m here to listen, Ronnie, malen'kiy strelok.”

Little Marksman. Her father used to call Natasha the same, despite her not being the greatest shot. But, she was better than Yelena and that’s all the mattered at the moment. The term of endearment rolled off her tongue like honey and shocked her in the process.

Veronica didn’t say anything, she often didn’t, but she wrapped her tiny, strong arms around Natasha’s arm and buried her cheek into her, reveling in the close contact. She softened instantly and found herself staying awake until Ronnie’s breath evened out.

Neither her alarm, nor Ronnie stirred her this particular morning. Instead, it was a frantic knocking at her door. The sun streaming through the blinds indicated that she had been given the chance to sleep in, and if that wasn’t enough, you had left a little note on her side table: Get some sleep, I’ll handle the morning meetings. Love you!

It was close to noon, from her estimate, so you had kept up your end of the bargain. Natasha groaned into the silk pillow and pulled her way to the door. She glowered at the woman that stood on the other side.

“Did someone die?” Natasha grumbled, “Because you’re about to.”

“You are incredibly grumpy in the morning, has anyone ever told you that?”

Yelena shoved her way into the room. She was holding an envelope that had yet to be opened. There was a specific floral scent, almost like roses. Natasha crinkled her nose; she knew that smell. It had been a constant soothing presence throughout her childhood and beyond. Sometimes, she would walk into random rooms and catch a whisp of the spectral scent.

She snatched the envelope from her sister. It had already been crudely ripped, despite Natasha’s name being on it. This was a federal offense- but most of the stuff that this family did was, so it bothered her surprisingly little.

“Mama is coming for a visit.”

Yelena spilled the words out before Natasha could process the neat Russian writing. Her stomach dropped. Melina and Alexi had moved to a small far just outside of Moscow years ago. They stated that they wanted to get out of the city, but really, Alexi couldn’t keep his hands out of the business if they stayed in the city.

They would call every once and awhile, but were mostly solitary. She’d get a call on Christmas, and her birthday and sometimes the anniversary of her first kill. That one was hit or miss. Rarely- never- had Melina decided to drop by.

“I may have let it slip that you have a girlfriend.”

“Yelena!” Natasha shoved her roughly “Why would you do that?”

“It just came out! She was grilling me about Kate, and I panicked. You know yours is more put together than mine.”

“You threw me under the bus.”

Yelena had a genuinely sad look on her face, one that was borderline pouty. Natasha growled through clenched teeth and finally got a chance to read her mother’s writing. She’d be here tomorrow, and there was too much to do. Natasha’s head started to spin.

In fact, you weren’t more put together than Kate. The two of you seemed to feed off of each other’s chaos. It was fine to deal with on a regular basis, but Melina was like a bloodhound. She would smell fear, and she would play into it until you both were reduced to a crushable size.

Oh, this was not good.

Natasha must have paled noticeably because Yelena took a tepid step closer, creasing her fingers against the empty pink envelope. Melina would be flying alone. She’d be here in two days and that didn’t give either girls much time to process the invasion at all.

Though her father was a stern man in practice, he was much easier to impress than her mother. They balanced one another out, and that was something that would be sorely missed during this visit.

She took a steadying breath, running her fingers over the dented familiarity of her mothers perfect script. There was nothing to worry about, right?

Despite Natasha’s multiple text messages to her mother, insisting that she would send a car to pick her up, Melina took a cab from the airport, not bothering to let either of her daughters in on the fact. She knew the address of her pervious home like the back of her hand, knew the deep green grass of the landscaping and the stretching view of the harbor.

Natasha had been pacing the length of the family room for most of the day. Yelena was draped over the loveseat, her limbs hanging over the sides, making her look nearly lanky compared to the furniture.

“Natasha, please, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“How can you be so calm?” She halted her pacing, cutting her sister a deadly look.

“I am not calm. I simply mask it better than you.”

The muffled sound of a car door closing made Yelena shoot up from her lounging position, she was standing next to Natasha now, both of them staring wildly at the large oak doors. You and Kate had been sent out with a massive grocery list and it was much too early for the two of you to return with Ronnie. In fact, you usually stopped for some ice cream, or a small lunch as a reward for the tiny girl.

Natasha deemed it better not to inform you, nor Kate, about her mother’s visit. It could be considered cruel, sure, but knowing you the warning would do nothing but send you into an immense panic and that would simply spur her mother on.

Melina had arrived with nothing more than a half-packed duffel bag. She always packed light, using the key on her ring to open the door to the place that was once her home. Natasha and Yelena lingered by the curved entryway, watching as the woman, perfectly sculpted and entirely unchanged, smiled softly at the décor.

“Do not just stand there, girls, come give mama a hug.”

It was an order that Yelena folded in on first. She was stiff at first but at the floral scent that her mother carried like a vice, she melted into the embrace. There was nothing like a mothers hug, and that was evident by her body language.

“Aw, sweet girl” Melina pulled back and squished Yelena’s face between her hands “you are much too lean. Is this Kate girl not feeding you?”

“Mama, prekrati eto�� She grumbled, batting the woman away.

Melina narrowed her eyes but focused her attention on her oldest daughter. She grasped both of her hands first, giving them a small squeeze before pulling her into her embrace. Natasha melted, pressed her nose against the side of her mother’s neck. It had been much too long, and despite being reduced to a little girl in this moment, she didn’t seem to mind.

“You’ve healed nicely,” Melina said.

Of course, her mother had heard about the two shots that Natasha took to the back. She had been lucky and avoided any major injury. They were simply superficial, but she could understand how it would sound brutal all the same.

“Now,” she clapped her hands together, getting a devilish look in her eye “where is my granddaughter?”

Natasha choked on air before she glared at Yelena with a look that could kill. Her mother’s hand was patting her back. She’d become tender with age, it seemed. Still, a force to be reckon with, Natasha wouldn’t dare try anything.

“Your granddaughter?”

“Please, Natalia, she sleeps in your bed. Marriage or not, she’s your child. That’s how we got Clint, isn’t it?”

She was at a loss for words. Melina had a point. Clint was a mere stranger to Natasha until her parents took both her and Yelena to the circus that traveled through town. Her younger sister was nothing more than a baby, but Natasha was mystified. More than the clowns, and the acrobats, she had interest in the knife thrower and his charge.

A little boy that was around the same age as Natasha. When the show was over, Natasha refused to move until the young boy, covered in dirt and with dark purple bags under his eyes, started to sweep piles of popcorn and empty paper cups to the sidelines.

She’d introduced herself, and though he was quiet, she took an instant liking to him. Alexi had a few choice words with the boys guardian, who turned out, didn’t want to keep the kid and regarded him as nothing more than an employee- a runaway that had latched onto the circus. He had no idea who the boy belonged to, and Alexi decided that Clint belonged to them, now.

Instead of Clint being like family, he was family.

“Oh Mama, she will marry this girl.” Yelena beamed, “titles be damned.”

Natasha groaned into her hands. Had she thought about marriage? Yes, absolutely. She wanted nothing more than to make you officially hers. But she wanted to wait until the perfect moment; she wanted to not only include Ronnie, but get her input as well.

Melina gave a beautiful smile, patting Natasha’s cheek “I know, moya milaya. Are you not going to show me to my room?”

It was apparent that you and Kate had been sent on a fools errand when you finally got to the store and got a better look at the handwritten list that you were given: Milk, eggs, bread, A single MTS-I Mortorq screw, VW Mk4 Golf R32 duel clutch plate- and seriously, what the hell was that?

Darcy would know, and would have caught on a lot faster than you or Kate did. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that there was no reason to go to the store at all. You’d gone two days prior and knew for a fact that you’d gotten everything recognizable on the list.

“Kid,” Kate gave Ronnie’s had a squeeze “we’ve been played, bamboozled, tricked.”

Your daughter lifted an eyebrow at the woman’s antics. In a few years, she’d move on to eye rolling, and while you weren’t prepared for it, you would be glad for the indication. You’d done it yourself, crumpling up the list and shoving it into your pocket. There was no need to brave the crowds in the grocery store.

Instead, you aimed your sights on the small frozen yogurt place that was nestled in between a shoe store and a Gamestop. You might as well get a treat while you were out, considering Natasha requested you go further than the closest store because she liked the bread at this one better.

“They clearly wanted us out of the house. But why?”

“Yelena usually tells me everything.”

“Huh,”

“What? She does!”

“Doesn’t seem like the type.”

A sweet frozen scent hit your lungs and the little bell above the door sounded. There was a less than enthusiastic employee behind the counter, moving like molasses. You did have to kill time…apparently.

Veronica spoke up when dessert was involved. She didn’t carry a conversation with the teenager, but she did give little indicating sounds. Your arms were crossed over your chest to stave off the cold, and you settled for a simple chocolate. Ronnie loaded hers with a bunch of toppings, and Kate got vanilla with extra (extra) rainbow sprinkles. Each bite she took crunched like gravel.

“The point is, she didn’t say anything about something going down, and if it was, wouldn’t they want us there? Clint’s out of town so we’re the only muscle they’ve got.”

The employee behind the counter lifted an eyebrow at you both and you made sure to stick an extra couple of bills in the tip jar with a sheepish smile. You ushered them both to one of the benches outside, basking in the highpoint of the sun and cursing Kate’s tact, or lack thereof.

“You’ve got a point. Maybe it’s something personal?” You suggested, reaching your pink plastic spoon over and stealing a bite of Ronnie’s candy-coated yogurt. She batted you away, a little too slow and you claimed your prize.

“Yelena tells me-“

“Everything, I know.”

Kate took her own scoop of frozen yogurt and crunched on it thoughtfully. “They’re nervous. If they’re being this secretive. They sent us out for car parts for a car that none of us own.”

“Lena said that Mama is coming for a visit.”

Ronnie’s feet didn’t’ touch the ground and she was working at dislodging a frozen gummy bear that became mostly inedible. She kicked back and forth and only looked up from her task when she was met with silence.

Kate’s mouth was propped open, and your eyes were wide. She frantically glanced between the both of you and shrugged her little shoulders. “This is one of those things I’m supposed to tell you, right?”

Kate nodded, suddenly losing her appetite “Uh-huh,”

You’d heard about Melina before, in passing, but Natasha seemed to bristle about the woman. She did the same for her father, but you knew the legends of Alexi and his kind hand when it came to running the city. Her mother was entirely different; entirely horrifying.

You’d seen a picture of her in a small and dusty shoe-box while helping Natasha clean out the attic one day last summer. It was stiflingly hot, and you were shocked to find it framed, but shoved away all the same.

Natasha was young, maybe around eleven, and Clint was next to her, smiling with missing front teeth. Yelena was smaller, the large hands of Alexi engulfing her shoulders. And then there was Melina, even in casual cargo shorts and striped tank-top, she looked regal and oh-so intimidating.

Your girlfriends’ arms wrapped around her midsection, her chin resting on your shoulder. She gave you a squeeze and stared down at the photo you were holding.

“You were cute as a kid.”

“were?”

“Still are!” you corrected, smiling lazily down at the family photo.

There was something longing behind your gaze that Natasha admired. Not that she would tell you that. Instead, she told you about the trip to Busche Gardens that ended in Clint nearly drowning and Yelena throwing up after she scarfed down three corndogs and a funnel cake.

Now you felt like you would vomit yourself, sliding your frozen yogurt away with a frown. You were far from prepared to meet Melina Romanoff, and by the green look on Kate’s face, so was she.

“Oh, we are so fuc… screwed. We’re screwed.”

“I know the word fuck, mommy says it all the time.”

“Just because I say it doesn’t mean you can. Eat your yogurt.”

You were clearly having a crisis and Veronica was clearly enjoying the fact that you’d given up on your frozen yogurt. She took alternating bites and would most definitely lose her appetite if she kept going, but you couldn’t’ bring yourself to push it away.

“Why wouldn’t they tell us?” you asked.

“Probably because of this” Kate made a vague gesture “this who panicking thing? Melina is going to kill us both and then it won’t matter but they decided to spare us the torture of waiting for this day.”

It felt like slowly working a mouse away from a glue trap by the time your frozen yogurt had turned to nothing but a brown soup. There was nothing to hold you and Kate from home now, and Ronnie was growing restless under the hand of the sun. You swore you heard her mutter something about Grandma, but chose to ignore it entirely in favor for pure fear.

Natasha seemed to be waiting at the door to intercept both you before you went any further. Not that you minded her soothing hand on your chest, and an apologetic look in her eyes. She smoothed your shirt down once, and then nervously, twice.

“Sweetie, I don’t think it’ll un-wrinkle, no matter how hot your hands are.”

“See that,” She whispered harshly, “Is something we’re not going to do. Both of you need to be on your best behavior. Understood? Better than best. Kate maybe don’t… talk.”

“Aye, captain.”

The younger woman frowned at her own words and instead settled for miming zipping her lips shut. Maybe it would better for you not to talk either. From your spot in the foyer, with Ronnie clinging to the fabric of your jeans, you could hear the muffled Russian. Yelena was responding to something, a bit of a whining tone to her voice.

Natasha’s hands had made their way to yours. She knit them together, a sort of an anchor. The other hand reached down to Ronnie, who was suddenly shy despite her earlier indifference. You could throw up right here and now but figured that would only serve to embarrass you further.

There was a clear similarity between Melina and Natasha; the high cheek bones, the striking green gaze, the flawless skin. She held the same cold stare that her daughter did but could hide her emotions better than your girlfriend. A stone dropped in your stomach under her gaze.

Natasha squeezed your hand tighter, her thumb on your pulse point. The pad of her finger ran over it gently, assuredly. She knew you were horrified. Kate gulped (which to her credit, was technically not talking, but was still painfully audible.)

Melina had a knife in her hand, a half-carved apple resting between she and Yelena like a peace offering. There were differences in the cuts, one smoother, the other more practiced. This family found leisure activity in carving techniques.

Natasha warned in a breath “Bud' milym, mama.”

Her mother didn’t heed the warning. Instead, she closed the difference between you. Yelena instinctively tightened her grip on the kitchen knife, not that she’d ever use it. Melina scrutinized you for what seemed like years, but was only a few ticking seconds.

“Ona khoroshen'kaya”

“spasibo, Miss Romanoff”

“ah, you know Russian?”

“Yelena has been teaching me.” You swallowed the dryness in your throat as her raised eyebrow lowered to something less intimidating. “Ma’am.”

“Manners too. Maybe you can teach my Natalia something or two about that.”

You felt you cheeks heat up and you diverted your eyes to the floor. It had directed the attention in the room to the small girl clinging to your leg as if it were a piece of beached driftwood and she were fighting against the raging currents.

Melina knelt down in front of your daughter, her rigid stance loosening until she looked more like a mother than yourself. She was soft in this moment, the sun hitting her eyes in a way that made them glow supernaturally.

“Hi, Malen'kiy strelok”

Natasha parted her lips, as if to inform her mother that Veronica didn’t speak much, if at all. She’d gotten better, sure, but it was nearly stagnant with new people. Ronnie studied Melina as the woman had studied you.

“What does that mean?” Ronnie asked, her grip lessening.

Melina smiled “Little marksman. From what I hear, your mother has a very good aim. Do you?”

“I don’t know yet. Kate says I do.”

“Well, I’m sure we will find out in due time, milaya devushka.” She tentatively tucked a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear before standing again and focusing her attention on Kate. Kate who had paled at least ten shades and was sweating despite the air conditioning in the house.

Yelena straightened up herself, giving a silent warning with her stare. Of course, Kate didn’t’ see it like you and Natasha did, her arm having moved from your hand to your hip bone in the quiet approval from her mother. She’d relaxed significantly.

“Hi,” Kate squeaked out and Yelena stifled a groan put massaged her temple.

Melina seemed to look to Natasha for confirmation: This is the one she chooses?

With you, there was merit. There were callouses on your hands and scars that hardened under the fabric of your shirt. Kate was much of the same, though, she showed it in a nervous, fluttering type of way that presented outwardly as fumbling and awkward.

“Krasivo, no... puglivo. Like deer.” Melina offered a small smile to the girl and her breath seemed to release.

Skittish. Kate was certainly that, but she seemed to balance out Yelena with the perfect amount of caring and heart. Melina was nothing, if not vigilant. She clapped her hands together, that small smile turning into a large grin. “You all must eat something, you look starving. And Natasha, you are slouching, don’t’ slouch in front of your daughter. Those bad manners.”

“Mama, I am not slouching.”

Natasha groaned as the tension in the room broke. Her forehead pushed against your cheek. Veronica dragged Kate over to the kitchen island by the hand and instruction on the proper way to carve pieces from an apple began, much to Yelena’s huffing dismay.

Hands shifted from your hips, finding the two back pockets of your jeans. “She likes you,”

“I would be dead by now if she didn’t.”

“Yeah, right when you walked through the door.”

The two of you chuckled, her nose nudging against yours. “She called Ronnie your daughter.”

“I’m sorry, dorogoy, she pushes. She means well.”

You pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth, words a light whisper “don’t apologize. I like the sound of it.”

Before Natasha could collect her thoughts, her rush of pure emotion, you had pulled away from her and joined the rest of the family around the kitchen island. Though she couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, Natasha was more than content standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

Her heart pounded fondly.

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lee-laurent · 4 months ago

Text

Caught (Red-Handed) - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Sneaking out to see her boyfriend isn't as easier as she thought it would be

notes: i know this is a cliche plot. but i have writers block. so here we are. sorry :/ cute little summer romance tho with some drama

content: fluff, angst, kissing, mentions of sex but no actual smut, mentions of being a "puck bunny", slight age gap, supposed cheating (it's not really. you'll see)

Veronica Zegras was head over heels in love with Quintin Hughes. She had been since Jack and Trevor were in the USNTDP and she'd met him when going with their mom to pick up Trevor from the Hughes' house.

In fact, when she thought of that day it still made her heart flutter all these years later.

"Wanna come in with me? Officially meet the Hughes? They have a son your age... Luke, I think," Julie smiled at her daughter.

"No."

"I wasn't really asking, V. Let's go."

The girl sighed, following her mom to the front door. Veronica hated meeting new people.

"Julie! Hi! And this must be Veronica," the blonde woman that opened the door smiled widely.

"Hi," Veronica waved slightly, peering behind the woman into the house.

"Come in! Come in! The boys are just cleaning up the game they were playing in the basement."

Veronica followed her mom, to the living room. Her eyes falling on the teenage boy fiddling with an Xbox controller.

"This is my oldest, Quinn. Quinn, this is Trevor's sister, Veronica."

"Hi," he paused his game, smiling shyly.

Veronica felt her cheeks heat up. He was so cute! She felt herself squeal on the inside when he smiled at her. She wasn't one for talking about boys with her friends, mostly because all her friends thought Trevor was cute (ew.) but she was definitely going to tell them about this Quinn character.

"Trevor! Your mom is here!"

"COMING!"

The sound of loud footsteps running up the stairs filled the room, but Veronica had yet to take her eyes off the cute boy sitting on the couch.

"What's Ronnie doing here?" Trevor questioned. Veronica cringed when she heard Jack laugh at her nickname.

"She's going to her friend's house. Now hurry up before we make your sister late."

"Whatever," Trevor rolled his eyes, "Later, Jack. See ya, Quinn."

"Bye. Bye, Veronica. It was cool meeting you," Quinn smiled.

"You too," she blushed, rushing out of the house before her brother noticed.

"What're you thinkin' about?" Quinn asked, brushing some of her hair from her eyes.

"Hm?"

"What're you thinkin' about?" he repeated, a smile covering his face.

"You."

"What about me?"

"The first time we met."

Quinn laughed, "When I didn't even get off the couch to say 'hi?''"

"Yeah, but I still thought you were cute."

"Oh, I knew."

"What?! You never told me that!!"

"You were blushing the whole time. It was funny."

"You're so mean," she pushed him away teasingly, pouting at his words.

"I am not. You love me," he pulled her closer to him, pressing kisses all over her face. She giggled, finally planting one on his mouth.

"I do."

"Do what?" he smirked.

"I love you, Q."

"And I love you, V."

Quinn leaned in, kissing her hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to roll her onto her back. She giggled, breaking the kiss. He rolled his eyes, going in for another one. Just as his hand was sneaking under her shirt, the door swung open.

"God! You two are like fucking rabbits," Luke complained, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"Shut up," Quinn spat, pulling the covers over them to give them at least some decency.

"Keep this up and it'll be Trevor that walks in next time."

"What do you want?" Veronica sighed.

"Trevor is up. Thought you might wanna go back to your own room for when he decides to come 'wake you up,'" Luke suggested. "If I walk in you two having sex one more time, I'm never helping you again."

"We weren't having sex."

"You were getting there," Luke scoffed, closing the door as he walked off.

"See you for breakfast, babe," Veronica kissed Quinn one last time, pulling her long shirt down to cover her ass as she ventured down the hall to the room she was supposed to be sleeping in.

Luke had found out the two were dating two months prior and had promised to keep in under wraps, mostly because Quinn threatened to kill him if he told anyone. It wasn't that the couple didn't want to tell Trevor and Jack, it's just that they liked being in their own little bubble. And Trevor would actually freak out if he found out his 20-year-old sister was dating a 24-year-old. He was weird like that. Trevor knew she had a boyfriend, but he didn't who he was. He didn't even know his name.

"Morning, Q! How'd you sleep?" Trevor asked, annoyingly awake for it only being 8:30.

"Great," Quinn sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"V still sleeping?" Jack asked Trevor, slicing some strawberries for breakfast.

"Probably. She was probably up all night texting her boyfriend. Mom said they're doing a 'long distance summer' or some shit."

"She's still seeing him?"

"Yeah," Trevor shrugged, stealing one of the berries. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Just thought she would've ended things by now. Your sister isn't known for her commitment," Jack replied, pulling the bowl away from his friend.

Quinn rolled his eyes at the remark. He knew standing up for her would seem suspicious, so he kept his lips sealed. Sure, before she'd made the move to Vancouver the year before, Quinn would also question Veronica's commitment issues, but their relationship was proof that it was all just in the boys' heads.

"Her puck bunny era ended," Cole laughed.

Trevor chuckled, "Yeah, like a month after she moved to Vancouver. Guess the Canucks just aren't her type."

God, he couldn't be more wrong. In fact, the front man for the Canucks was the definition of her type.

"I'm going to wake her up."

"Have fun."

Trevor bounced up the stairs, knocking aggresively on the door of the room his sister was staying in, "Rise and shine, bitch!! Boat day!!"

"I'm coming!" she yelled back, fixing her hair in her phone camera.

"Hurry up before we eat all the food."

"Your fat ass would!" she retorted, pushing past him to go downstairs.

"I'm not fat! Jack, tell Ronnie that I'm not fat!"

Jack laughed, almost choking on his toast, "He's not fat, Ronnie! Jeez!"

"He eats like he is," she winked at Quinn, grabbing the piece of toast he was about to bite. He rolled his eyes, reaching for another.

"You finally gonna wakesurf, Ron?" Luke smiled cheekily.

"Hell no! And risk my life in front of you idiots, count me out."

"Bet you'd look hot doing it," Jack teased, earning a slap to the back of the head from Trevor.

"No, she'd look average as usual."

"Shut up, Trev. Fucking annoying ass," she mumbled to herself, stealing more food from Quinn's plate.

"Get your own," he grumbled, using his arms to guard his plate.

"But the food from your plate tastes better than food from my plate," she whined, trying to manoeuvre her way past his blockade.

The bickering between Veronica and Quinn was so usual that nobody even batted an eye, choosing to continue their own conversations while Veronica attempted to wrestle Quinn for his food.

"PUT ME DOWN!" she screeched, hit at his bare back as he marched outside with her thrown over his shoulder.

"If you promise to stop stealing my food," he smirked.

"NEVER!"

And with that her body hit the lake with a loud SPLASH! Veronica surfaced, coughing to clear the water from her nose. The rest of the boys had gathered at the sliding glass doors to the back porch, laughing loudly at the scene in front of them.

"I hate you!" she sputtered, pulling herself out of the water. She peeled her soaked t-shirt off, chucking it at Quinn. He laughed, admiring her figure as she sauntered back to the house, hair dripping wet.

The group gathered on the boat, Veronica changed into dry clothes. She hated sitting there all wet and cold, especially with the wind from the boat. Quinn was driving and she was sat in the passenger seat as always... Quinn's passenger princess.

"Why does Ronnie get to sit next to Quinn?" Trevor whined, "Maybe I wanted to sit next to Quinn."

"Pretty privilege. You'd never understand," Veronica sassed, pulling her sunglasses off her head.

"Who told you that you're pretty?" Trevor scoffed.

"My boyfriend."

"Are we sure he's real?"

"Rude! He's very real."

"Yeah, he's just Canadian," Jack laughed.

"My boyfriend doesn't go here. He's Canadian," Cole joked.

"Shut up!" she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Hate you dumbasses. Should've gone on a girls' trip."

"Alright, who's surfing first?" Quinn asked, ending the petty argument about how real his girlfriend's boyfriend was.

"Are you sure you're not mad?" Trevor asked again, watching as his sister rummaged through the fridge for vodka he'd hidden from her.

"I'm not mad, Trev. Just drop it."

"I didn't mean to embarass you in front of the guys. I swear."

"Trev, I said it's fine. Where's the alcohol?"

"You're not drinking."

"What? Why not?"

"Cause you always get wayyyy too touchy-feely when you drink."

She rolled her eyes, going to find her boyfriend. He'd get her alcohol. Her knuckles rapped against his door.

"Come in! Oh, hey, baby. What's up?"

"Trev hid the alcohol from me," she starfished on his bed.

"Why?" he asked, pulling out some regular shorts to change into.

"He said I get too 'touchy-feely' when I drink."

"I mean..."

"Shut up. You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm not saying I'm on his side, babe. It's just... he kinda has a point."

"Quiiiiinnnnnn."

"Why don't you do that water bottle trick you showed me?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I won't say anything. Just... try to keep your hands to yourself."

"But what if I wanna touch my super hot, hockey star boyfriend?" she smirked, placing her palms on his chest.

"I'd strongly advise against it. But... if you come to sleep in here tonight, I won't argue," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"I love you, Qball."

"Love you too, V."

Veronica had emptied a quarter of a plastic water bottle, filling the rest with vodka. It was a trick she'd made in high school, one that her brother still hadn't picked up on. She was sat next to Quinn, slowly sipping at her 'water.'

Luke, who was also underage, was allowed to drink. But not her. Whatever. Quinn would make up for it. He always did.

"How's school?" Cole asked, sipping his beer.

"Oh, it's good. Almost done."

"You, uh, you live on campus?"

"No, I have my own place."

That was a lie. She lived with Quinn.

"How's that? Lonely?" Jack questioned.

"Not really. I have friends that come over like every day."

"And her boyfriend," Trevor smiled.

"Yeah. And my boyfriend."

"How long have you guys been together?"

"A year back in June," she grinned, noticing the blush covering Quinn's face.

"Damn. Getting serious?"

"Uh, I guess."

"He gonna meet Trev soon?"

"Whenever he's ready," she nodded, taking a much larger sip of her drink.

"Who? Trev or your boyfriend?"

"Both," she cackled, side-eyeing Quinn.

The rest of the night went smoothly and Veronica was just about to make her way down the hall to Quinn's room. She had brushed her teeth, put on her cutest pjs (one of Quinn's old Canucks shirts and a pair of tiny shorts), and fixed her hair from the lake water.

"Hey, babe," he smiled, putting his phone down on his bedside table.

"Hi," she beamed, sliding into the bed next to him.

"Nice shirt."

"Thanks. I stole it from this loser I know."

"Loser, huh? I would've guessed he was like super cool and hot."

"Meh."

"Oh, that's it," he laughed, attacking her with kisses. He pinned her wrists down, their teeth clashing as they kissed. It was sloppy and they were both a bit tipsy, but God did they love kissing. They'd do it all day, every day if they could.

She hummed, feeling his hands reach under her shirt. They skimmed the skin of her chest, his lips coming down to press wet kisses along her neck.

She gasped at the feeling, "No marks."

"I know," he groaned, "Can I take this off?"

"The shirt?"

"Yeah."

"Sure," she helped him pull it over her head, laying back down on the pillows.

"Fuck, you're perfect, V."

"That's all you, Q."

Just as he was about to snake his hand higher up her thigh, the door opened.

"You didn't lock it?!" she whisper-shouted.

"No?"

"What the hell?!" Trevor jumped, covering his eyes.

Quinn was quick to pull his shirt off, using it to cover his girlfriend.

"You can uncover your eyes," the older boy sighed.

"What is going on?! Veronica! You HAVE A BOYFRIEND! You're cheating on him with QUINN?!"

She rolled her eyes, "No, Trev-"

"You clearly are!"

"No, Trevor. I'm not cheating on my boyfriend. Quinn is my boyfriend."

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, surprise?" she shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

"Your boyfriend of a year?"

"Yeah."

"The boyfriend Mom said gave you a promise ring?"

"Yeah."

"There's no way."

Quinn flipped his phone around, showing his wallpaper to Trevor. It was a picture of the couple at family skate, laughing at something someone behind the camera had said.

"WHAT?!"

Veronica laughed, making Trevor frown.

"This is insane. I'm going to bed. This is just a weird dream," he walked off.

"I wonder what he's gonna say in the morning when he finds out it was real," Veronica giggled.

"Doesn't matter right now. Now, where were we?"

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #trevor zegras

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jo-harrington · 2 months ago

Text

Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all

Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness

Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie Munson was a nerd.

Point blank, end of story.

It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.

It hadn't always been that way.

There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.

"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"

It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.

Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.

And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.

He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...

Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.

It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.

This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...

So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.

He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.

And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.

And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.

But he'd gained a friend.

Several friends actually.

Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!

They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.

Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...

He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.

And Eddie?

Eddie just got nerdier.

Got weirder.

Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.

It was glorious.

He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.

He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."

Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.

And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.

Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...

---

Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.

To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.

When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.

Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.

As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.

Until he met one Dustin Henderson.

It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.

"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"

Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.

Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.

"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."

He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.

Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.

But it was the beginning of the end.

From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.

And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.

Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.

He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.

"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."

Or so he thought...

There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.

To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...

This was what it was to be a nerd.

There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.

And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.

Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.

So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.

The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?

There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.

Yeah. He could understand the anger there.

But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.

It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.

Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.

"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."

"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"

It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.

"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."

"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.

"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

And that his friends knew him so well.

---

For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.

Two. Years.

He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.

And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.

It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.

He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?

Probably not.

Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.

But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.

New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.

"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."

That became Eddie's driving force.

He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.

"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.

"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.

"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.

"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.

There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.

But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.

Ready for the battle within himself.

But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.

The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.

He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic

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obsidianbaby · 6 months ago

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Don't Love Me Like A Brother - Prologue

Brothers Best Friend Series - PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1 -

series synopsis - ronnie's younger brother, tyler, is a famous youtuber & influencer and is best friends with the sturniolos. This series will be following ronnie's life as she befriends the triplets and catches herself developing feelings for a certain someone...

**series will contain smut as it develops but warnings will be added to those specific chapters

**found myself writing a few flashback chapters before present day just to build up the established friendships bc I'm impatient and don't want the slow burn to drain anyone 😭

warnings/notes - no smut in this as it's just the prologue to introduce y'all to the story.

a/n - starting this series and im very exciteddddddd i hope y'all fuck with a slow burn, friends to lovers best friends brother type beat. Buckle up mfs it's gonna be an angsty ride

a/n pt 2 - im not gonna share who ronnie develops feelings for just yet I want y'all to be on edge okok enjoy MWAH xx

__________________________________

PROLOGUE

ronnies pov

having a brother who's famous on social media is humbling to say the least.

The amount of fan girls who have followed my accounts just because they're obsessed with him makes me question many people's sanity (including my own).

But tyler is one of my best friends. And thank god for my dad, who from the jump, did not tolerate any misogynistic bullshit from my brother.

Raising two kids as a single dad after my mom passed away (before ty and I were older than the age of 5) was tough for him and he embraced the times when he needed support (like when i first got my period, bless his heart he bought almost every type of menstrual product off the shelf).

His values were the perfect structure for us to grow up following; respect, open communication, giving our best efforts to everything (even if the only effort we could offer up was a 60% instead of a 100%)

My childhood friends would always whine about how "chill" my dad was. And it's not cause he didn't care, (he probably cares too much) but he didn't want to shield us either, knowing we need to learn how to exist in the world without him constantly up our asses.

"As long as we can talk about shit at the end of the day then we're good" one of his favorite mantras he would spew to me and ty when we would get caught doing something you might call a "right of passage" as a teenager.

And since it was just the three of us, we've always leaned on each other a lot. Sunday family dinners at nans' every week, taking turns helping my dad at his shop after school (he's a car mechanic), movie nights every thursday night where my dad would close up shop early, setting up the projector in the shop garage and ordering us pizza. My brother has been a best friend to me since I held him in my arms at the age of 3 when he was born.

And of course, we have the usual chaotic fights to the death like most siblings do, him pranking me in the most annoying ways, me making fun of his dumbass, him eating all of my food, me stealing his cool clothes, him begging me to uber him around everywhere, etc.

But we also just really enjoy each other's company too; going on late night walks around town, sitting in bed staying up talking all night, playing mario cart for hours (id always kick his ass), going adventuring together to forests or beaches, hanging out at the skate park together (me laughing at him eating shit and him chasing me around trying to whack me with his board), us both ditching our friends to stay at home and yap to each other instead, us having campfires in the backyard with both of our friend groups together, working on restoring mom's 1967 ford mustang together that she left us when she passed.

So when he came to me a few years back, during the pandemic, asking my thoughts on him posting on youtube, I was in full support (after teasing him that no one would find him, an 18 year old lanky white boy about to graduate high school funny or interesting. I have to keep him humble ya know?)

But his first few videos on youtube went viral and his following kept growing daily, especially when he started posting on tiktok too.

He's had me (and even my dad) featured in his videos which i don't mind at all (since im the one that's editing them)

I can see why the internet loves him (i did help raise him of course).

But since he's hit over 3 million on youtube last year, he's been doing a shit ton of collabs with other influencers and youtubers; the sturniolo triplets, larray, emma chamberlain, jake webster, tarayummy, vinnie hacker, carrington, etc.

And these days I try to stay behind the scenes as much as possible, trying to enjoy my solitude away from the opinions of crazy fans. (why do they care so much about what im doing anyways?)

Yet he understands (thank god) and he's always inviting me to come hangout with the friends he's made through social media, and i can't lie and say i don't enjoy being in the company of such dope (and attractive) people.

END OF PROLOGUE

______________________________________________

a/n - hellooooo i have a few more parts already written for this but im gonna wait to see how this post goes first (because i have a dire need for validation and praise) anywaysssss thank you for reading mwah xx

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfic

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candyflossfairy · 2 years ago

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𝑚𝑟. 𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 (𝑒.𝑚. 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: Dad!Eddie x Teacher!Reader. It's that time of year for parent-teacher conferences, and you finally meet Ronnie's father, Mr. Munson.

𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 18+ only, unprotected sex (p in v), slight choking, Jacobs Ladder piercings.

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3.7k

𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠: Eddie manip by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple . My work for @newlips milestone of love!

Your first year of teaching was going by pretty well. The students were sweet, fun, and for the most part, they listened. Of course, sitting in a classroom all day was tough work for second graders, they got a little restless after lunch. You didn’t mind it, though. There was a lot of gift giving that made it all better. Notes, drawings, coloring book pages, apples, even one gave you a glass apple with the words World’s Best Teacher! on it that you kept on your desk. It was sweet, really. All of them were, in their own ways.

Even the ones that acted out more than others.

Like Lucy Carver who had a knack for acting like a princess and bribing others with lunch money to do classwork for her.

Or her step-brother, Ronnie Munson, who would pick on his sister relentlessly and talk loudly in class for attention. You knew it was for attention, because you saw who picked up Lucy every day and who picked up Ronnie. He was missing out on some motherly love. You hated Chrissy Carver for that. There were days when she did pick him up, but most of the time it was Mr. Munson, or Wayne Munson, Ronnie’s great uncle that would pick him up.

You hugged Ronnie a little tighter than the other kids. You made sure he did his classwork and helped him when he needed it because of it. Not to say you had a favorite, you just knew which kids needed an extra push. It was sad that at such a young age he felt like he wasn’t getting enough love from his mother, even if he didn’t know that’s what he was feeling.

He was a cute kid, too. Looked like a carbon copy of his dad—dark curls and chocolate eyes. It was better that way, you thought. When he was older he wouldn’t look in the mirror and see his mom staring back at him.

It was parent-teacher conference day. You were nervous for your first one, but your colleagues assured you that there wasn’t much to be nervous about. Some parents were dicks when it came to their child’s grades, but for the most part it was manageable. Plus you got a better insight on what parents helped their kids at home, and which ones left them to their devices.

“Lucy is doing great as far as her social skills. She’s developing them very well. She also has a talent for math—on the days she decides to do it.” You explained to Mr. and Mrs. Carver, “I think a little more encouragement from the two of you and she will be on top of her schoolwork more.”

“So you’re saying it’s our fault?” Mr. Carver spat.

“Jason—” Mrs. Carver chastised.

“I’m not saying that at all, Mr. Carver.” You said calmly, giving him a smile, “But I do think restricting the amount of money you give to your child will keep her from paying others to do her schoolwork for her. She’s a very smart girl when she applies herself.” You continued.

“Thank you very much for your time. We will keep that in mind.” Mrs. Carver said, as they stood up. She picked up the progress report and the two of them stepped outside.

You sighed, pressing a hand to your face.

“I feel that way after interacting with them too,”

You shot up straight, a soft flush to your cheeks.

“No, really, they can be pretty awful.” Mr. Munson stepped inside, shutting the classroom door behind him.

“Is… Mrs. Carver not joining us?” You asked, clearing your throat as you shuffled your papers before looking for Ronnie’s.

“Chrissy? Nah, she tries to forget that we both exist as much as she can.” Mr. Munson told you with a playful grin, as he grabbed a chair on the other side of your desk. He turned it around before sitting in it backwards, his legs spread widely and his crotch on display from the wide hole in the back of it.

You kept your eyes on his face, even though it was in your peripheral. Mr. Munson was attractive, covered in tattoos, a labret piercing above his chin, one in his eyebrow. He also had muscles that strained against his shirt from many days working at the mechanic shop in town. You hadn’t been there since you’d moved to Hawkins, but you did know he worked there.

Single mom’s talked about him quite often. He had a little bit of a reputation for fixing problems that they’d had.

Not to mention, he was a bit older than you — not by that much. He was in his late 20s, you were in your mid, it wasn’t bad.

You didn’t know why you were thinking about this. You were having a parent-teacher conference about his son. It had nothing to do with the fact that you hadn’t had sex since you’d moved here. It didn’t have to do with the fact that Mr. Munson was too sexy for his own good.

You swallowed, and looked down at Ronnie’s progress report.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You responded.

“Nah, no biggie. I’m more upset for Ronnie’s sake than my own. She’s been a bitch since she married Carver.” He shrugged.

You snorted a chuckle at that, trying to hide it. You’d seen how snooty she was, too. You couldn’t imagine her ever being any other way.

“It’s true. She used to be a sweet little thing. Loved me and our boy. Carver’s…persuasive. I’m just glad we split up before Ronnie could remember much. He doesn’t remember her like that. I think it makes it hurt less — sorry, didn’t mean to like — spill on you. Anyways, how’s Ronnie doing in class?”

You swallowed back your thoughts. So, you’d been right. Mrs. Carver didn’t care for her son much.

“He needs a little extra pushing from me from time to time. He does like to aggravate Lucy and awful lot and cause disruptions, but he’s been getting better since the school year first started.” You started off, looking over his progress report. You highlighted a few grades and slid the paper over to Mr. Munson.

“These zeros are homework assignments he never turned in. It’s not particularly hurting his overall grade, but if you can get him to do them, I’ll give him seventy-five percent credit for them. I know single parenting is much harder than it looks on the outside, so I’m willing to work with you, and him, to make sure he’s able to move up next year.” You smiled at him kindly.

“We appreciate that.” Mr. Munson nodded, looking at the report, “These aren’t hard assignments either, huh? I guess they just got lost in the fray of things.” He laughed, before his eyes flicked to you, “Though, it’ll be a shame that I don’t get to see your smiling face every morning after he moves up.”

Your cheeks flared pink at that, and you brushed some hair behind your ear. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting or not, but… God, you hoped he was.

“Well, I’ll still be here next year… so there’s no shame in dropping by to see me.” You smiled at him, folding your hands on your desk.

“No? Wouldn’t be weird if I… came by and saw you without my kid?” He asked, grinning back.

“Definitely not.” You hummed.

Mr. Munson looked at the time, before standing. “Our time slot is up.” He mused, turning the chair back around the right way.

You bit your lip, before standing. “My last one ends at eight.” You said quickly.

“Oh? Did you…want me to come back?” His brows lifted.

You nodded.

“Alright, I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Thank you, Mr. Harrington. Goodnight.” You shut your door after your final meeting and bellowed a sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you leaned back against the door. It had been a long day, and for the most part people hadn’t been awful, but there had been a select few who had been awful.

There was a soft knock on your door, and you opened it back up.

“Oh, Mr. Munson —” You had forgotten, so wrapped up in everything, you had forgotten he was going to come back. Your cheeks flushed again and you stepped aside to let him into your classroom.

He kicked the door shut behind him, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Did you not expect me to come back?” He asked, grinning a bit.

“No—it’s not that.” You laughed, “I just. You know.” You shrugged. “I’m glad you’re back.” You rubbed your arm nervously.

“Yeah?” He chuckled, stepping closer to you, “And why’s that?”

You were almost nose to nose with him. You could feel his breath fanning over your skin. You swallowed, thickly.

“Mr. Munson—”

“You can call me Eddie.” He cut you off.

“Eddie—” You started, “Is Ronnie taken care of for the night?” You had to make sure.

“Took him to his great uncle Wayne’s. He loves it over there. He’s set.” He gently lifted a hand and brushed some of your hair back.

You wet your lips, and his eyes flicked down to them.

“Why don’t we go back to my place?” He suggested, his hand gently resting on your jaw. He rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip and you couldn’t ignore the warmth that flooded between your legs at that.

You nodded, numbly, and turned to gather your things. He watched you from afar as you placed all of your paperwork into a binder and shoved it, and your laptop, haphazardly into your school bag.

“Wanna meet me there, or ride with me?” He asked, winking at you.

“Either is fine.” You cleared your throat.

“You like motorcycles?” He chuckled. You raised your brows before nodding.

Fuck, that was hot. He had a motorcycle? He should just breed you now.

You let that thought wash over you as you followed him out of the school, stopping only to put your bag into your car before swallowing thickly as Eddie handed you a helmet.

“Safety first.” He winked at you, pulling his long hair up into a bun at the base of his neck. You tried to not think to hard about him putting his hair up to eat you out, but it wasn’t easy to ignore.

You slipped the helmet on and clipped it into place. He straddled the motorcycle.

“Alright, throw your leg over like I did and hold on tight.” He grinned at you.

“What happened to ‘safety first’?” You asked, raising a brow at the fact that he didn’t have a helmet on.

“For you, sweetheart. Not for me. I like to live dangerously.” He laughed loudly.

You shook your head in amusement as you took his hand, throwing your leg over the back of the bike. Surprisingly, you didn’t fall on your face or stumble, and settled into the seat behind him.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and held on tight.

He was warm, body toned. You couldn’t wait to see what it looked like naked.

He turned on the bike and kicked up the kickstand, revving the engine a few times before he took off out of the parking lot.

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in you as he raced down the street. It had been a while since you’d done anything fun. Moving to Hawkins had been a bit of a poison to your social life — sure, you had the other teachers at Hawkins Elementary, but most of them were much older than you and had lived there their entire lives.

He pulled up to the only apartment complex in Hawkins; a newer building you had been told. They looked fairly nice from the outside, and you couldn’t wait to see the inside.

Eddie pulled into a parking spot and kicked the stand back down, shutting the bike off.

He helped you off of the bike and tilted his head towards the stairs in front of you. “Just up those.” He told you.

You followed him up to the second floor and he unlocked the door first door you came to, letting you in.

“Home sweet home. It’s not much, but it’s ours.” Eddie smiled, shrugging his jacket off. He hung it on a chair in the small dining area and stepped into the kitchen.

“You like beer?” He asked.

“Yeah, a beer would be nice.” You nodded as you looked around.

The front area was a decent sized living room, connected to the small dining room that held a small round table with four chairs. The kitchen was connected to that. There was a short hallway right in front of you. You had to assume the bathroom and bedrooms were back that way.

“Here,” Eddie handed you the beer, popping his open before sitting on the couch. “Make yourself comfy.” He said, propping his boots on the edge of a beat up coffee table.

You followed his suit, sitting next to him on the couch. You crossed one leg over the other, popping your beer open.

You took a sip. It was cheap, but it would take the edge off of whatever nerves you were feeling.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just quietly sipping from your beers. It wasn’t awkward persae, it was just… different? You both knew what you were here for, so you weren’t sure why he was playing worlds best host.

You just wanted him to fuck you already.

You downed your beer in the next second, placing it on the coffee table.

“Woah, want another one?” Eddie asked.

“No,” You said, and feeling a spur of confidence, you uncrossed your legs and threw one over his lap, straddling his legs.

He smirked up at you, letting his legs fall from the coffee table.

“Hi,” He said, learning around you to put his beer down.

“Hi,” You responded, smiling down at him.

His hands gently rested on your waist, pinkies on each side pushing up your shirt to feel your skin.

You reached forward, and brushed his hair off of his shoulder.

“Kissing, or no?” You asked, your voice a soft whisper.

“Why wouldn’t I want kissing?” He chuckled.

You shrugged. “Some guys think it’s too intimate.”

His brow furrowed. “Sex is intimate.” He laughed.

You shared a smile with him before leaning in to kiss him. His lips were softer than you had expected, the stubble on his lip scratching your skin softly. You didn’t mind it, really. He was…so fucking hot.

He nipped your lip softly, and you parted them for him, allowing his tongue to invade your mouth. He tasted like beer, and cigarettes. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought. However, maybe it was because it was him.

You brushed the thoughts from your mind, biting at his bottom lip, your teeth lightly clanking against the piercing there.

Tattooed hands pushed up the sides of your shirt, fingers squeezing your sides, pinkies slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You could feel them toying with the edge of your underwear, too.

You broke the kiss for a breath, panting softly as his mouth made its way to your neck.

“No hickies.” You said quickly, “I don’t need the kids asking questions.”

Eddie chuckled against your skin.

“Bedroom?” He asked, nipping softly at your pulsepoint.

You nodded; and up you went. He had lifted you like you were nothing and he carried you down the hallway. He dropped you on the bed and pulled his shirt off, displaying more tattooed skin. He climbed onto the bed, pressing a knee between your legs as his hand cupped the top of your head, his elbow resting near your shoulder as he kissed you, his entire body covering yours.

You moaned into his mouth as his knee rubbed against your mound. You reached between you to press your hand against his half-hard cock in his jeans. He responded with a soft groan.

You stayed like that for a long while, teasing each other, him with his knee and you with your hand, your lips never leaving one anothers.

It had almost became a game. See who would last the longest before they asked to go further.

You were losing. Your hips were guiding themselves up against your will, rubbing your clothed pussy against his thigh. You weren’t getting much friction from this, but what you were getting was making you soaking wet.

You popped the button of his jeans open, and reached past his boxers as a concession. He had won.

You gasped at what you felt in his pants, breaking the kiss.

“What?” He asked, his voice deep and husky as he continued to rub his knee against you.

“You’re—”

“Yeah, I know.” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss at your neck again.

He hooked his fingers in your shirt and you lifted up to let him pull it off, still a little in shock at what you felt.

His hands were then working at your pants, unzipping them and dragging them, and your panties off in one fell swoop.

His pants were next to go, and you were both naked, but—

Your eyes met his cock. It was large, the tip red and wet with precum… Your fingers gently brushed across the bottom of the shaft. Nestled there in a row were five bars. He had his cock pierced.

You swallowed thickly, wondering what it felt like for those piercings to be inside you. Especially with how big he was.

“Doesn’t hurt — at least no one’s complained.” He chuckled, “And it’s been fully healed for a few years, so nothing to worry about on my end.”

“You did them all at the same time?” You asked, a little shocked.

“Yeah, hurt like hell. But looks fuckin’ hot, don’t it?” He grinned.

You nodded.

He grasped himself in his hand and slapped it against your pussy, making your insides clench tightly. With his other hand he spread your lips and started tapping again, this time against your clit. Your legs jolted softly with each tap, your lips parted in a soft moan.

“Damn, you’re so fuckin’ wet.” He sighed, rubbing his cock against you. “You on the pill?”

“Yeah,” You nodded.

“Good.”

Neither one of you needed for you to get pregnant right now. That was unsaid between you.

He tapped your pussy a few more times, before lining himself up and pushing in.

Your back arched, a low moan leaving you. Your eyes fluttered and your head tipped back.

“That’s it… that’a’girl…take it.” He sighed into the warm air between you.

“Fuck, Mr. Munson..” You moaned.

He laughed softly. “You like callin’ me that? Alright, honey. We can pretend I’m a lot older than you. Bet you flick that pretty little clit of yours at home thinkin’ bout me and the other dads, hm?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you nodded. There was just something so fucking hot about fathers to you. You wanted to have someone like that in your life. Someone to raise kids with you.

“Say it.” He grunted, as he pressed fully into you.

“Ah—! I touch myself thinking about you!” You gasped, your legs circling tightly around his waist.

That’s not how he wanted it, though. He grabbed you tightly by your thighs and wrenched your legs up until they were on his shoulders. He scooted closer to you so that your hips were angled up.

Now, now he was impossibly deeper.

You moaned helplessly, grasping at the sheets.

“You got a pretty little cunt here for me. Soaking wet and tight, mmm…” He sighed, pulling out and thrusting back in.

He found a medium pace that you both seemed to like for now, his hand sliding up your thigh and squeezing.

“You like being choked, baby?” He asked breathily, his free hand brushing up your chest.

You nodded, your lips parted. You couldn’t make words come out right now, you were fucking gone.

His fingers circled around your throat, fingers pressing into your pulse point. Your back arched higher, your head tipping back as you moaned out.

“Fuck, you’re a sweet little thing..” He groaned, speeding up his pace.

“Mr. Munson—!” You whined out, his cock pressing over and over into that spongey spot inside of you.

“Yeah, baby. Say it.” He chuckled.

There was something so inherently dirty about this, even though it was all legal. It was probably because you taught his son at school, really. You couldn’t think about it now, not with his cock pressing into your gspot, and his piercings rubbing up against your walls with every thrust.

“Mr. Munson!” You moaned out again, your hips lifting higher with every thrust.

You could feel your orgasm growing, the heat in your belly getting hotter and hotter until the rubber band snapped, your cunt clamping down on his cock and spasming as you cried out helplessly.

He released your throat, his thrusts never stopping. He groaned, and a few moments later he was pulling out and spilling his seed on your belly.

You were both panting heavily as he dropped onto the bed next to you.

You laid there in silence for a long while, your insides burning from overuse. It had been a while since you’d been fucked, especially by such a thick cock.

Fuck if you didn’t feel good, though.

“Here,” Eddie said, leaning over to grab you a few tissues.

“Thanks.” You hummed, sitting up slightly to clean the cum off of your belly. You tossed them into the trashcan nearby as Eddie stepped across the hallway into what you now knew was the bathroom.

You waited for him to finish cleaning up before you went in yourself, relieving your bladder and cleaning up.

When you came back into the room, Eddie had laid out a shirt for you on the bed.

“You can stay over. Wayne is supposed to take Ronnie to school, so he shouldn’t be here in the morning.” He said, smiling.

You nodded, pulling his shirt on before climbing into the bed.

Eddie flicked off the lights before climbing in after you, his arm wrapping around you waist. He pulled you close, your back flush against his chest.

You felt safe that night, and got the best rest you’d had since you moved to Hawkins.

The next morning you were awoken by the front door slamming loudly.

“Daddy!”

Oh, shit.

#newlipsmilestoneoflove #eddie munson x reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fanfic #eddie munson x reader fanfiction #reader x eddie munson fanfic #reader x eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #you x eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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seeingivy · 6 months ago

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ladies and gentleman, we rejoice. we sing to the heavens. the full idea has formulated on my next eren fic 💌

anyways, I kind of geek. you know how some schools have those surveys that you can do that pair you with another person that you would be really compatible with? anyways, the school that they go to does that for students in the same type of program (like undergraduate, graduate) and it's anonymous! you can choose to reveal if you like the person you're talking to if you're friends and ignore if you're not into it.

anyways, eren and y/n are in the same lab - and each other's biggest haters. he thinks she's annoying. she thinks he's pretentious. eren's a massive nepo baby (who actually doesn't want to do a phd but feels guilted into it) and y/n's academic validation is so horrendous thatit's almost debilitating. the other person seems to dig right into what they hate the most - self made first gen y/n seems so assured in what she's doing that it makes eren jealous. eren seems to do things so effortlessly that y/n finds herself competing just to keep herself motivated.

but yolo, they're both each other's biggest supporters bc they're matched based on how compatible they are! they just don't know the person they spend all their time talking to is each other....

#HEHEHEHHEHEHEHE #ronnie talking to herself #edit: eren jaeger you will be a nepo baby in every universe I don't make the rules (yes I do)

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greenhousethree · 1 year ago

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Good Enough

100-Word Drabbles for Arthur and Ginny Weasley

Fifteen drabbles written for @thethreebroomsticksfic Weasley Week, Oct 16th: Arthur Weasley. Read below or on AO3.

“You’re joking.”

Molly chews back her smile, shakes her head coyly. The house isn’t quiet, per say, but in a rare stroke of luck the twins and Ronnie’s naps have aligned.

And he’s wedged around the bathroom sink with his wife, giggling like children over a potion that’s just changed color.

“A girl…”

The day she’s born, Fabian is there. Peers over the bassinet for so long, Arthur wonders if he too is counting ten perfect pink toes.

“Shit,” he says to Arthur over a cigar that night, after talking war, “this world will never be good enough for her.”

ii.

It’s his turn tonight, when they hear little feet across the kitchen floor. He’s not surprised it’s her, face still blotchy, hair sticking up everywhere from this afternoon’s tantrum that left her knackered.

She whips around in the pantry doorway, eyes like saucers. “I’m hungry.”

After leftover stew from her yellow paisley bowl, he lays in bed with her. Grants her request for a story on the condition she doesn’t suck her thumb.

“Once upon a time, there was a witch named Ginny who lived in a deep, dark wood…”

“No, Daddy,” she whispers, eyes nearly closed. “I’m a dragon.”

iii.

Molly tells him she cried the whole way home from King’s Cross. By early afternoon, he can still tell— the aftershocks seem to surprise her, those gasping little breaths.

“You know the best part of being the last one left,” he divulges over homemade strawberry ice cream that has yet to do the trick, “is that no one’s here to fight you for your pick of broomstick.”

The rest of her bowl melts on the porch swing. She’s out until it gets dark in the orchard, comes in for supper with leaves in her hair and the biggest jack-o-lantern grin.

iv.

The day they bring her back home, he carries her trunk upstairs and sits beside her on the bed. Apologizes for ever blaming her, even for a second.

She counters by saying something lifeless and self-loathing and broken. Eleven-year-old fingers pick at bruised nail beds— tiny, perfect hands. He still can’t fathom it.

That night, Molly brings her dinner and doesn’t come back down. When he heads up to bed, he sees they’ve clearly emptied all her shelves, stacked every novel and journal and textbook outside her door where they can’t hurt her.

He’s never been angrier in his life.

Since this morning, he’s meant to tell her he’s sorry— sorry they couldn’t offer her anything better on her birthday than this condemnable house-turned-war room. Sorry for the second-hand leather satchel wrapped in faded Christmas paper, even though she wanted a broom; sorry everyone’s thoughts are on tomorrow’s hearing.

After dinner he finally says it, out of Molly’s earshot. Sitting on the stairs leading from the kitchen, plates of fudgy cake in hand.

“Don’t apologize.” She’s still smiling huge, bumps his shoulder. The Flatulence Fez the twins crowned her with slips down over one eye. “I really love the bag.”

vi.

It should’ve been the day that made them proudest as parents, marrying off their firstborn. It wasn’t.

This morning, they boxed up centerpieces and charger plates in the shed, repaired all the furniture, met with the Order. His ears still ring. The house is eerie without those three.

He finds them in her room. His wife is clutching their daughter as she sobs harder than he’s ever seen, inconsolable, wracking herself hoarse. He feels it like a sword to the chest.

In bed later, Molly shakes her head with that look he earns sometimes when he’s being thick. “She’s heartbroken.”

vii.

Friday before Easter, he changes from work robes into something Muggle and tweed and itchy. Platform 9¾ is packed with people avoiding eye contact, and the Express is late. It was late in December, too— arrived without Luna. He waits, terror tightening his throat.

He’s numb with relief when he sees her, one of the only kids lugging a trunk like he advised. She’s swimming in a jumper he’s sure is Ron’s, and that twinges a bit. There’s something different, he notices, walking to the entrance. Colder. Quiet. He doesn’t ask… can’t quite bear to.

Four days later, they flee.

viii.

She’s fighting him. Kicking, clawing.

He holds on with everything he has, arms clasped around her chest, and it’s like he can feel her breaking inside. But if he lets go, he’ll lose her, too. Like Fred.

Like the body they’re all staring at, lifeless at Hagrid’s feet.

Weeks later, when the Boy Who Lived finds him in the shed one night, hedging, guiltier than anyone he’s ever seen, he already knows. For a moment he considers letting the kid squirm, like the father ought to do.

But then he remembers her first year, and wordlessly hands over a screwdriver.

ix.

“One more,” she tells their waitress, pointing at a coaster she’s put in the middle. “For my sixth brother.”

The table falls quiet. But then George chuckles and they all take his cue, except Molly.

Snow collects on the windows as the bangers and pies and chips are served. She laments early-morning practices to them all, pretends she’s already bored of all the travel.

“Knock it off,” Charlie snickers, grinning. “Rookies can’t complain. We know you’re having a blast.”

At the end of the night she beats everyone to the bar, pays their tab. Arthur suspects it’s her whole paycheck.

“I definitely saw you cry,” she accuses. She’s graceful even in smugness, grinning something wicked over her lipstick-stained champagne flute.

He pretends to grumble, but he knows she knows. “Hard not to, with the bloody groom getting all choked up.”

The band calls them up soon after, and he pulls her close. “It’s okay,” she murmurs as her face starts to blur again, inches away. “Just admit you’ve gone soft, Dad. I won’t tell.” He tugs on her hand to spin her, chuckling.

They cut cake, and Harry whispers something that makes her laugh, and she lights up the room.

xi.

Predictably, the stadium loses it when she flies out with a new surname on her kit. Ron rolls his eyes as she lands on the pitch with a bit of swagger.

She flies well today, but he reckons she could miss every shot and the commentators would still talk of nothing else. In the stands, Harry laughs when Arthur leans over to ask how it feels to play second fiddle.

“I’ll never be good enough for her,” he snorts over the rim of his pint. “But I’m sure you knew that.”

She scores twelve goals, and the Harpies clinch playoffs.

xii.

“I’d kill for a drink about now,” she mutters, leaning against the railing. He knows better than to say she probably shouldn’t be out here, either— the venue’s porch, serving as refuge for men who normally never smoke.

He takes a long drag as they watch her boys toddle after their dad on the lawn. “Nearly there, sweetheart.” Treading lightly with his words, lest he incur any of what Muriel’s other well-intended mourners did with their attempts at small talk (“Like a fucking whale, thanks for asking”).

“Hey,” she smirks, “maybe you and Mum can buy a beach cottage now.”

xiii.

The mug Molly poured when they arrived is tepid now, sitting on the table. Shadows lengthen like ghosts beneath his daughter’s eyes; he suspects they’re five days old.

The kids are all asleep, Molly updates them.

Her jaw tightens. At her temple, he notices a couple of gray strands. “I can’t—” she whispers. Squeezes her eyes shut; nothing else comes out. “They need their dad. I’m not good enough on my own.”

“He’ll come home safe, darling. Always does.” And he makes her promise to never say that again.

He takes both of her hands in his, and they’re cold.

xiv.

They’re celebrating Ted and Vic beneath a canopy of fairy lights. Bill’s weepy toast prompts Fleur to frisk his brothers till she finds George’s flask.

She never realizes Ginny’s stowing the bottle.

His children outlast their kids and spouses. It’s one of those nights he can’t let himself miss, tired as he is.

His daughter points a wobbly finger. “Lils has a boyfriend, by the way. Doesn’t think we know. Harry’s going spare.”

He chuckles. “Now he gets it. Imagine trying to justify hating the Chosen One.”

She laughs, nearly tips her chair. “You should tell him that. Might help.”

xv.

It comes in waves. Feels like a lifetime has passed since yesterday; another before that. Molly— bless her— tried to prepare him for it. Tried to comfort him. Imagine.

It feels too big now, their little house on the beach. Perfect for two lives, cavernous with just one.

She finds him in the garden before sunset. Small, warm hands enclose his.

“Look, Dad.”

It’s a delicate, fluttering thing with blue wings, bobbing on the wind. Molly’s favorite.

“She’s found us again.”

He smiles and tucks a silver lock behind her ear, meeting her gaze— precisely the same shade of brown.

#arthur weasley #ginny weasley #girl dad #harry potter #molly weasley #weasleyweek #molly/arthur #hinny #ao3 #fatherhood

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jade4956 · 8 months ago

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Kerstin Casparij - SO LEAVE

YN.YL = Veronica Miedema

Kerstin Casparji = herself

———————————————————————

"No I'm not okay it's not right to me that you sign for a one year contract and then you say city didn't give you the right amount of game time or city's not good enough for me" Kerstin yelled

"But it's not good for me I left Arsenal because I was sick of constantly being compared to Viv all the time, so when I got a contract to city I was soo excited because you were here I ." I got interrupted

"Then why don't you sign the contract extension and stay here with me, get more game time from city and actually make it work for you" she said

"But I don't want it to work here at city I want to join Barca it's been a dream of mine to play at Barca and it would be an amazing opportunity for me. I would make a name for myself not just Vivianne miedema's little sister"

"Then leave, leave like you always do the second something doesn't go your way you leave SO LEAVE" she said staring dead at me then walked away to the spare room.

I didn't know what to do was it so hard for her to accept that I had and amazing opportunity for Barca. Did she not think I was good enough or did she only want me to stay so she could be with me at city. What do I do I thought.

Kerstin's pov:

The next day was awkward we didn't speak to each other at all we didn't take the same car to training which made it obvious to others we were arguing. Something I learnt about Veronica she wasn't one to give in and she was very good at the silent treatment. But if Ronni was gonna play the silent game so was i.

Everyone was around the breakfast room and was chatting away eating before warm up. I sat with Mary and a couple of the other girls whilst instead of have Ronnie next to me usually half asleep I watched her walk into the cafeteria and go sit with Hempo, Esme and Sandy. Hempo gave me a look as general confusion but I just shrugged it off not really want to talk to everyone about it and effect the team, I mean Ronnie can't avoid me forever we play right next to each other in games.

Veronica's POV

I was asked to go to one of the stuffs room that focus around our contracts and a payment and stuff like that. I was being payed quite a lot to play at city and that was really appreciated, I hadn't looked into the Barcelona contract deal and the payment, game time and stuff like that so I though maybe it was about my other option for clubs and Barcaldine included. Whilst walking there I saw some of the girls and started to walk over to them since I don't think I'm in a rush to get the the staffs room, until I saw Kerstin was there then immediately turned around that didn't go unnoticed by her. We don't usually argue but when we do it's big well bigger for us. I restarted to walk the staffs room and eventually got there. Knocking on the door then walking in to being greeted by the staff member

"Hello Veronica" he spoke whilst sitting down with a desktop facing in between were we sat across from on another and 5 pieces of paper spread out as well " I think you could take a guess about why your here and that's for you potential other contracts or your city contract" The staff member flip the sheets of paper over to reveal the other side that had the teams that were interested in me two including Manchester City and Barcelona "Now I know you have leaned toward going to Barca but there were other options like Bayern, Liverpool and one other one but I'm not sure how you'll feel about it but it's Arsenal and I know you've made it clear that your not interested in going back to the gunners team but they have offered the same amount of money and your expected to have more game time then beforehand, your contract would be for 2 years, city have a similar offer with more money, your currently being payed 300k but there contract has changed for 350k they would sign you for a 3 year contract deal"

"Ok So my former club Arsenal is telling us that I'll have more game time and the same amount of money when that exact same club said that the first time and I was completely overlooked and robbed, if you can't tell arsenal isn't an option" I say say looking very unimpressed with arsenal but trying to be more understanding

"Okay so no arsenal have you thought about Bayern and Liverpool" he moved the sheets of paper in front of me for a look

"Bayern are offering you the exact same contract as city did when you first joined, whilst Liverpool are only offering you 200k which is a step down so I'm not positive on you salary step down but it depends on what you want to do, your contract would include 2 years with them, now I'll get to Barcelona once you get let's say three out of the way and will leave it to Barcelona and another club to decide, I'm going to duck out for a second but I'll be back soon"

I was looking through the papers and immediately put Arsenal to the side along with Liverpool, I hadn't really thought of Bayern before I mean I've heard great thing from it and when Georgia and I hung out she spoke about how she enjoyed it so much but then again you really didn't feel like going somewhere people are going to still compare you to Viv, because Viv was fantastic at Bayern one of there former best players and almost everyone will expect you to be even better then her. I put Bayern to the side And look what's staring at me MANCHESTER CITY in bright blue writing, a pay up I would be put into the top 10 most expensive players not that I care about how much I'm worth but that's kinda cool to see people paying you so much that your in a top 10 most expensive with world class players, I guess it's back down to City and Barca.

"Ah I'm assuming your choosing between City and Barcelona, well what are you leaning towards" the man said walking through the door and taking his seat again

"Well I mean a Barcelona would be great to play at but now I think about it more and more I really do wanna give city a better try but I mean it is Barcelona so who knows the opportunities I could get you know" I say completely distraught on the decision

"Yes well depending on you feel with your salary your mind might change on Barcelona" he says looking at me after reading the city contract then the Barcelona contract"

Kerstin's pov

"Yeah I don't know Mary and now we're both giving each other the silent treatment and it's just not a fun feeling knowing your partner want to move away from you" I say looking down after explaining why Ronnie and I haven't been speaking

"Well if I'm being completely honest you should be happy she could possibly be going to Barcelona like she's just proving she and amazing player and plus I don't think she want to move away but she's doing to to benefit her career don't you think that's a good thing"

"Yeah but you know I'm really proud of her and happy for her but it's just not how I would have wanted our relationship to pan out and I don't know if I could do long distance and I don't wanna ruin our relationship"

"Your not going to ruin the relationship, she loves you and I'm pretty you love her"

"Okay but what do I do now, do I wait at home for her do I stay here, do I March in the office saying I am proud of you for getting an offer at Barca and I love you so take it" I say making weird voices

"Wait for her at her car and then talk to her"

"Okay I will" I say hugging Mary as she stands up

Veronica's POV

"So you're telling me a huge club that pays crazy amounts for play wants to change my pay from 300k to 150k and they want to quarter my game time and take me on a loan after my contract is up" I say looking at the man shocked

"Yes and if I'm being completely honest it is a huge step down and for you personally wouldn't be the step you should take" he responds "I know you have spoken to me about you city contract and your not positive on it but now that you've seen the other contracts including the Barca one maybe you would reconsider or maybe having a look at one of the other ones again"

"Yeah but I know this might be a biased question for you but what's the best step" I say hoping for a non biased answer considering he works under the Manchester City club name

"I say your best options are City, Bayern or Arsenal" He immediately answered

"Okay I'm not going back to arsenal but I'm rethinking Bayern again" I said out loud when really I was thinking to say it in my head

"So where declining Liverpool, Barcelona and Arsenal" he questions turning the desktop to face me more

"Yes" that was my final answer for those 3

"Now you can have a think about those two considering you have a lot more to think about now price range and game and also contract wise how long you gonna be there for "We can set up another meeting for maybe a week from today or you can send an email of your decision"

"Would it be fine to set up a meeting but cancel if I send an email"

"Of course, it was a pleasure doing this with you, I might say your quite professional" he shook my hand across his desk "I'll send the emails to your rejected clubs and keep a close eye if anything has been changed or has been offered"

"Thank you and I do very much appreciate it" I shook his hand back then exiting the room

That was not what I expected I expected to immediately accept Barcelonas offer but not after what I saw one that contract not at all. But now I'm stuck between to options again Manchester City or Bayern Munich.

A/N: Part two anyone ???? Or just leave it there also if I do, do a part two send request how it should end or comment i don’t care

#woso #netherlands #kerstin casparij #kerstin casparij x reader #bayern munich #barça femeni #arsenal wfc #manchester derby #manchester city #vivianne miedema

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james-stark-the-writer · 10 months ago

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just started watching Upgraded (2024) because i saw Camila Mendes was in it and, love the opening, very funny gag, that is clearly a cross section of an image of the Earth's crust overlaid with a black and white symbol representating where life can and cannot exist, but, more importantly, i cannot believe Camila has to act across somebody who is playing a character named "Ronnie". because now all i'm imagining is Camila Mendes talking to herself. it's just Veronica Lodge sitting across from her at this point.

#james talks #james watches stuff #upgraded #Camila Mendes the things i do for you.........#upgraded 2024

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ev4ikcasswife · 9 months ago

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The musical version of chansaw is much worse than the movie one.

In the musical (❗️without distorting the characters too much with headcanons❗️), the relationship between Chandler and Veronica can only be written as lovehate without the possibility of further development.

In the movie, Heather behaves more maturely, she doesn't force Veronica to humiliate herself on her knees, doesn't mock her childhood friend (Betty), does not shake her when she feels bad at the party and in general, as is clear from the scene with the locker, Heather Chandler in the movie in some way appreciates her friendship with Ronnie.

This is the problem with the impossibility of a healthy chansaw relationship in the musical—the way these two are presented.

If Veronica was not distorted so much, what they did with Heather in the musical (especially in the West End) is kind of fucked up. I understand that this is theater, there must be a certain percentage of overacting, but not to such an extent that a character who is 17 years old begins to behave like a 10 years old spoiled child.

Like, Regina George on Broadway is also a little bit more dramatic than her movie version, but she doesn't act like the villain from Miraculous. Heather Chandler in the musical doesn't have any aspects to her that make her an interesting character like she did in the movie (The scene where Chan gets s/a in Remington, for example).

Many people have told me that chansaw are problematic and have no chance of forming a normal relationship, citing as an example Chandler's terrible treatment of Veronica in the musical. I'm not arguing that their canon relationship in the musical is a total nightmare, but why are you equating all versions of this ship and not talking about their relationship in the movie at all?/gen. Yes, they're far from perfect, but at least Heather and Veronica had opportunities to bond in the original.

Just thoughts.

(Also, english is not my native language, so I'm sorry for the mistakes)

#heathers #heather chandler #heathers the movie #heathers the musical #heathers 1988 #veronica sawyer #chansaw #jdronica

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

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ty @whoami-72 and @daisynik7 <3333 you’re so so sweet and I love you!!!

tagging: @squirrelspoetry @cutiejg @togemayo @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @rebeccawinters @violetmatcha @k0z3me @erensmoodygf @vagabond-umlaut @bokutosthings @wheredidmycrowngo

sending love to all my fellow writers and my best, most sweet supportive moots who read my silly lil delusions with me 🥹 making my heart soar today

☆ Put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. It's time to spread positivity ❤︎ (you don't *have* to, but I'm giving you a star cause I want to)

i copy and pasted this from someone else but i wanted to spread some positivity too!!

…I’m speechless right now. I GOT A STAR GUYS 😭😭😭💜💜💜💜💜💜 I’m tagging everyone I know that’s absolutely amazing

@sleepytoby @error525 @otakv-trxsh @owlight @childofblackmaria @mysteriousmagicx @kazenomegaminowanpisu @yaminions @thatonerandomsimpinthecorner @sgnjimmy @imasimpforshanks HAVE A STAR PEOPLE ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ MICHELIN TUMBLR STAR

#ronnie talking to herself!#tag games!#Im so sorry if I forgot you!!!#you all mean da world to me <3

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nightingale2004 · 2 months ago

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Teen wolf fancast hcs: for the parents/adults in their teen years

(I was inspired)

Talia Hale

Faceclaim: Ronnie Hawk

Future alpha of the Hale Pack. (Right now, she is an alpha in training)

First daughter of alphas Sandra and Patrick Hale and older sister of Peter Hale

She has the presence of a black cat and guard dog mixed in one

She is very scary and intimidating at first sight, but once you get to know her, she is a puppy

Her family are all werewolves

She and Peter have a typical love-hate sibling relationship

She is very well known in Beacon hills

Talia is extremely blunt and tells it like it is

She has many admirers who are both human and werewolf

She has a small circle of trust, which is Claudia, Peter, Alan Deaton, Deucalion, and James (her future husband)

Is best friends with Claudia and has known each other since they were pups

Has great respect for the Gajos family

Talia is extremely protective

Loves Claudia like a sister

She gets love letters and gifts from James almost every day in her locker

She's a fighter and short tempered

Talia doesn't like Claudia's jeep and tells her constantly that it's a death trap waiting to happen

Whenever Talia has a problem, she immediately goes straight to Claudia

She knows French, polish, and a little Spanish

Hates it when Claudia gives her nicknames but never tells her to stop

☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆●☆○☆○☆

Claudia Gajos

Faceclaim: Mary Mouser

Future emissary for the Hale pack (she is an emissary in training alongside Deaton)

Daughter of Mieczyslaw and Magda Gajos

Claudia's father is Talia's father's emissary and most trusted friend

Claudia's entire family, that is of the Gajos bloodline, has spark magic deep within their veins, but their are also humans in her family as well

Claudia is the female version of her future son Stiles. She has major ADHD and a hyperactive spaz. She is extremely sarcastic to the point where it gets her in trouble. She also trips over air

Claudia is also one of the most loyal and caring people you'll ever meet. She would run through a burning building for the people she loved and would care for them like a mother but also scold them and hit them upside the head for their stupidity

She loves wearing flannels and overalls

Her father gave her Roscoe the jeep on her 15th birthday, and she loves it very much

She has no filter and says what's on her mind a lot

She speaks fluent Polish

She has a polish accent

Whenever she is frustrated or going on a rant, she unconsciously speaks Polish

Claudia calls Talia a lot of nicknames just to tease her, but the one nickname she uses the most for Talia is Sourwolf

Considers herself wise beyond her years and a free spirit

After Claudia's father passed away, Talia was always there for her, along with the rest of the Hale pack

The Hale pack sees Claudia as one of their own

She has a minor crush on Noah Stilinski, which Talia disapproves of, but doesn't say anything

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

James Samuel aka future Papa Hale

Faceclaim: Henry Zaga

James is a human in a mixed family full of werewolves and humans

He and Talia's parents arranged a marriage between them to bind their packs together.

When James first met Talia, he immediately fell for her and has tried ever since to win her affection

Speaks fluent Spanish

He is on the Beacon Hills high school wrestling and basketball team

He is the leather jacket king. (He wears leather jackets all the time)

Is the most popular guy at Beacon Hills high and every girl has a crush on him

Everyone in school knows he's trying to court Talia and his teammates often tease him about it

When James is with his friends, he's cool and popular. But whenever he's around Talia and tries to talk to her, he becomes a stuttering, clumsy, lovesick mess, and it becomes hilariously painful to watch

He is a bookworm and loves reading.

He would always leave notes, poems, gifts, and flowers at Talia's locker

Whenever a guy or wolf go near Talia, he gets insanely jealous and plots their death in his mind

Literally worships the ground Talia walks on

He finds Peter a little scary and intimidating. Same thing with Claudia

Despite being human, he can definitely put up a fight

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Noah Stilinski

Faceclaim: Tanner Buchanan

Noah is the son of Elias 'Stiles' Stilinski and Sarah Stilinski

Noah is extremely antisocial and distant with everyone due to his homelife, which has gained him a reputation as the town freak

He's also very socially awkward and doesn't do well with other people

He only has one friend, and that was Rafael McCall, who was also one of the popular guys who was friends with James

Rafael and Noah were decently close but not like Stiles and Scott. The difference was that Rafael and Noah had a mutual interest and respect for one another

Noah and Claudia met in high school when Claudia almost accidentally ran over Noah with her jeep, which she immediately apologized for, and ever since then, their interactions became more frequent

At first, Noah found Claudia weird and a bit annoying. But he then soon started developing a crush on her

Like his future son, Noah always seemed to find himself in the middle of some type of trouble or drama. Most of the time, it's unintentional.

He doesn't know about the supernatural, but he had his fair share of strange and unexplainable encounters

He's a momma's boy

Every time Noah's dad tries to lay a hand on his mom, he would immediately get in between them

He has been kicked out of his house more times than he can count

Whenever he didn't have a place to go, he would usually crash at Rafael's couch

Noah is literally a magnet for trouble, which also gained him the reputation as a troublemaker

He fears Talia

Talia has also made it clear she does not like him or thinks he is worthy enough for Claudia

After he graduates, he plans on heading to basic training for army

Has a love for mysteries and criminal law

Has a mouth on him that gets him in trouble both at home and at school

Gets into A LOT of school fights

Has been punched and kicked more times than he can count, but he gives just as good as he gets

Considers Claudia, Rafael, and Melissa the only real friends he has

When he gets into a fight, most of the time, Rafael and James will join or stop the fight

Is very aggressive and short tempered

He is very private about his personal life

Does not want Claudia anywhere near his dad

Noah was once on thin ice with James because he thought Noah liked Talia instead of Claudia, but they cleared it up, and now they're ok

<_>_<_>_<_>_<_>_<_>_<_>_<_>_<_>_<_>_<_>_<_

Rafael McCall

Faceclaim: Drew Ray Tanner

Rafael is the son of Carmen and Arthur McCall

Rafael is your typical playboy in Beacon Hills High School.

He is also on the wrestling and basketball team

He was a part of James friend group, but he was also close with Noah, but they were just mutual

When I said he was a playboy, he was a PLAYBOY!! He literally slept with a lot of girls in high school, including Melissa

He was also a party animal and would get drunk a lot

Has a very short temper and very aggressive

He likes Melissa and thinks she's cool

He knows about Noah's family and always welcomes him in his home

He thinks Noah's crush on Claudia is adorable but weird at the same time

He thinks Claudia is very strange and Talia is very scarey

Rafael is also a jerk most of the time

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Melissa Delgado

Faceclaim: Inde Navarrette

Melissa is the daughter Annemarie and Ricardo Delgado

Melissa is a very shy and antisocial girl who is also a bit of a nerd

She tends to stay in her own corner

Like Scott, she also worked at the vet clinic as volunteer work

She is very nice, but also very awkward around new people

She and Claudia have talked and are close with each other

Melissa and Rafael have slept together, but when it first started, it was at a bonfire party and she had one drink too many

Melissa and Noah were introduced by Rafael

Melissa noticed Noah showing up to school with bruises and a cut on his neck

So after a while, she offered to fix him up, no questions asked

Scott wasn't actually her first child.

She got pregnant before Scott in her senior year and told Rafael about it as soon as she was sure, but after her first trimester, she had a miscarriage and both Rafael and Noah were there to comfort her

After that, Rafael and Melissa started getting closer

Rafael is a ''little'' jealous of Noah and Melissa interacting a lot

She, Noah, and Talia have been on group dates with Rafael, Claudia, and James. Which were both awkward but fun in the end

《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

Natalie Martin

Faceclaim: Emily Carey

Natalie is the daughter of Eleanor and George Martin. She is also the older sister to Vivienne Martin

Like Lydia, Natalie was both beauty and brains

Natalie was known in BHH as the second popular girl in school, and some people even expected her and James to be a couple, but his attention laid elsewhere

When she first met Lydia's father and his family, she immediately thought his mother was strange

She has tried getting close with the Hales, but that didn't end well

She is very intelligent and has a high i.q but is completely oblivious to the strangeness of Beacon Hills

One of the many girls Rafael slept with

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