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livinghostly · 2 months

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i will hold on to you for as long as you let me — megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorryyy the fushiguro-gojo family dynamic was rotting my brain and i needed this out of my system. LOTS of projection of my fear of growing up in this one soz. this was fully meant to be a drabble and it just kept going idk wc: 3.1k angst/fluff. mom!reader has a lot of bittersweet thoughts about megumi growing up and satoru is there to comfort <3 lots of parentheses and lots of repetition

you put on a brave face all day. all week, even. despite the burn in your chest that engulfed your lungs and squeezed unrelentingly. despite the tears that burned the corners of your eyes delicately balancing on the your waterline, one blink away from breaking the surface density and opening the floodgates to pour down your cheeks. despite the non-stop ache of your stomach, churning what you ate every day but still holding the same emptiness as anxiety consumed you.

megumi didn’t pack much, he never held on to many things to begin with. (you always prayed for that to change, for his comfort your home. you prayed he would see it as his own, as well). he neatly folded his clothes into his suitcases and stacked his hangers on top. he purchased a new sheet set for his bed in the dormitory because the one he was used to was much bigger, much softer.

he packed most of his books, carefully picking out the ones that tugged at the nostalgic parts of him, frayed along the edges after many years of re-reading, as well the ones that still had vibrant covers and stiff spines he hoped to finish. you noticed the leather journal he kept tied together– the ink-blotted pages bursting at the seams –sitting on the shelf before he tucked it into his box of personal belongings. it was his third one since living with you, all filled to every last page and used beyond ruin. the rest were hidden between his headboard and the wall. you pretended not to know, after stumbling upon them while changing his sheets.

closing the door to your home felt eerily empty. it looked the same as every day. the couch was cleaned and the floors swept. dishes rinsed and promptly put away. but with your lingering gaze your mind fixated on the dining table set for four, two adult pairs of shoes at the door, one pink backpack slumped on the hook of the closet door with an empty space below. your chest twisted at the lack of clutter, though it’d been like that for some time, with tsumiki and megumi growing older and cleaning up after themselves properly like you taught them. like you wanted. the pride you initially felt with those memories of parenting were becoming eclipsed with resentment and despair.

the ride to school was quick and familiar, megumi knew well what he was getting into after visiting there to train. satoru liked to call them little getaways from megumi’s civilian life, claiming he wasted too much time around non-sorcerers when he could be on missions with his ever-loving benefactor instead.

satoru, who was whining while he laid himself across the three seats in the back of your car. you’d banished him there for such a special occasion, and he threatened to transport himself to the school alone. an empty threat, at best. he didn’t want to miss this.

megumi had sparred with the older students and found himself thrown around the field many times already. he knew his way to the infirmary by heart, he knew where gojo tucked away his most powerful curse-imbued weapons (that were supposed to be under the surveillance of higher ups), and knew what letter-number combination granted him the ginger chips nobody else seemed to like.

you were glad he was comfortable. you were glad he would fall into routine easily after the repeated trips to jujutsu high and developing a rapport with his upperclassmen. you’d waited for the day that he’d truly be part of the jujutsu world and welcomed into a better suited environment for people like him. and you knew he would be great, he already possessed an incredible technique and wielded it like he’d been fine-tuning it since birth. far ahead from most kids his age, you were proud.

still, your gut was sinking, sinking, sinking into the floor with each passing second.

megumi picked his room in one of the far-away corners of the boys dormitory, leaving inumaki and panda heartbroken (panda said he would find a way to organize sleepover. megumi said he would drop out before that happened. inumaki cried– no, wailed at the rejection). yuuta fell into step with you, slipping one of the boxes out of your hands and insisting on helping instead. it was sweet, if it didn’t feel like he was ripping precious time away from you.

but you smiled, and granted his wish. megumi wasn’t complaining, he liked yuuta more than the others. it was a good chance for them to talk more. all of this, a chance, a new chapter, the rest of his life. the thoughts weighed on your shoulders with a disgusting strain traveling to your fingertips.

you were painfully aware you were in your own head, doing this all to yourself. he wasn’t going away, you would still be seeing him, more than you used to when he went to his other schools. he would always be here.

satoru found you in your classroom, while you were organizing the stationary with an unnaturally stiff composure. your arms were tense, he could see the muscles constantly flexing with each of your movements.

your jaw was clenching and unclenching again. you made a point not to look outside, where the second-years were training brashly after successfully moving their things back into their dorms. you made a point not to meet satoru’s dangerous stare as he shut the door to your classroom, as if it granted any privacy with the seven large windows running along the wall that showcased the hallway.

“what are you doing all by yourself, beautiful?” his tone was soft and inviting, begging you to open up and let yourself fall against the cushion of his words.

“um,” you exhaled, voice shaky. you scrunched your face to break apart the tension that had hardened your expression. “i figured i would get a few things ready for tomorrow.”

it took satoru’s long legs two-and-a-half strides to meet you at your desk, where you gently shut the drawer. there were a handful of dated photographs in there, signed with his name and the chicken scratch of two children.

“it’s all ready, baby. we did that last week.”

(correction: you did it. he tagged along for the shopping trip).

“there’s just… a few things...” you mumbled, not finding the strength to finish your own sentence.

satoru gently placed his hand on your shoulder, emitting inhuman warmth that spread across your skin. you leaned into him as he dragged his hand down your arm and intertwined your fingers with the care of handling fine china. his presence brought you solace, effortlessly bringing the walls down that you desperately wanted to wait until you got home to break.

he kissed the back of your hand and rubbed the skin. “you know you’re going to see him every day, right?”

it was embarrassing how well satoru knew you, knew your thought process like it was an extension of his own. he knew your doubts and insecurities, your fears and desires. he could predict the words before they came from your mouth, more in tune with the way you spoke than his mother tongue.

“mhm.”

“you know we’re going to be the ones chaperoning his missions, right?”

you closed your eyes and looked away. “i know.”

“do you remember when he said he’d like to go home some weekends, and have dinner?”

“he said that to be nice.”

“when has he ever been nice?”

you opened your eyes to glare at him, though he was right. megumi was not nice. he was polite. he was too self-aware for his own good, too perceptive of others and their emotions. in all the time that you’d known him, raised him, he made himself smaller for the convenience of others. he walked on his tiptoes for a year and a half so no one else would wake up because of him. he made his own breakfast and bit back his tears when he burned himself. he didn’t ask for things or food and didn’t offer his input unless asked directly. for some time, he was a ghost in his own home.

it seemed as soon as the bits of his shell started to break off, he was being swept away from you by the jujutsu world, leaving you with looming fears that consumed your mind and disrupted your sleep for weeks.

satoru smiled, though it was weighed down with your sadness. “hey, he’s not going anywhere, you know that. just because you’re not driving him home everyday doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

it’s funny, it’s nearly the same speech he gave you when tsumiki started middle school. and when megumi followed those same steps.

tsumiki didn’t make it this far, though.

the thought makes your lip wobble again, and you bite it back pathetically.

“i know. i know that. it’s just that…” your voice cracked, and you shoved your head in your hands. your palms squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the already-flowing tears. “he’s not my little boy anymore.”

satoru’s soothing hands pull you into a tight hug, and you don’t have it in you yet to move your hands from your face. his embrace makes you sob harder, louder as all your emotions from the last week begin to pour out at once. his chest rumbled with your cries, and he tucked you further under his arms as if to shield you from what was making you hurt so much. it was all you.

“baby…” he chuckled, without a hint mirth or mockery. he squeezed you with compassion and adoration. “you know that’s not true. he’s still pretty short, he’s got another growth spurt coming.”

a small laugh slipped through, but was quickly drowned out by your cries.

“he’ll be okay. he’s still here.”

he was so, so warm. he gently began to rock back and forth with you, the heels of your shoes gently clicking on the tile floor. a small hiccup erupted from you as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. the familiar thrum of his heartbeat welcomed you.

“i know, i’m sorry. i know he’s not leaving, or anything… i just… i thought i was ready.” you blubbered into his button-up. surely, there’d be two wet spots where your eyes were when you pulled away.

he swayed side to side with you, staring at the blackboard ahead of him. he nestled his chin on the top of your head, wondering if you could hear the cracks tearing through his heart. “it’s okay if you’re not ready. but you’re treating this like it's goodbye.”

“but what if we don’t get a goodbye?”

“okay, you really are overthinking this,” he pulled away from your embrace, your fingers still digging into the material of his shirt. he brushed away the hair covering your eyes, stuck to your skin by the wetness of your cheeks. streaks ran through your foundation and the corners of your eyes were smudged. “there you are. so pretty.”

it was silly how he believed he could make things better like that. it was silly that he was a little bit right.

“don’t think for a second i’ll let megumi be sent on a mission he can’t handle. he’s going to be fine.”

satoru’s love ran deep. for you, for megumi, for all his students. he fought curses everyday for you, rotted himself with his technique and stitched himself back up in a moment’s notice to fight for you. to come home to you. all of humanity be damned, those closest to him were the ones he fought for, and he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives.

he already towed the line with the higher-ups and their conservative rules and regulations, but he would tear them down if you asked. for megumi, he’d fight tooth and nail to see that he wasn’t being sent off on a mission ill-prepared. under his watch, things would be different for his students.

you nodded meekly, wiping away your tears with one hand. “i hate when you’re right, toru. it’s really annoying.”

he smoothed down your hair and grinned. “i know, just let me have this one, though.”

his sweet murmurs filled your ears, along with the gentle shuffling of your clothes as you made yourself presentable again. you balled up your sleeves and patted the corners of your eyes gently, and he straightened out the hem of your shirt. it was wrinkled, a reminder of how harshly you clung to him.

you smiled at the water stains on his shirt now, and he claimed it was in need of dry cleaning anyway.

neither of you noticed the eyes of megumi and yuuta, both stuck in place at the very corner of the windows leading to the hallway. they had training staffs with them, megumi’s grip becoming tighter as he watched you wipe your eyes and knock your head into satoru’s chest lazily. your shoulders low, clearly drained from the amount you cried.

yuuta was frozen, eyes flickering from you to megumi repeatedly. he found his courage in placing a hand on his shoulder, a feather-light grip. “hey, let’s go through the east wing. i’m pretty sure it’s faster that way.”

it wasn’t. but megumi nodded anyway, begrudgingly tearing his gaze from you and turning around with yuuta.

you stared down the red light of the intersection with a blank face, blank mind. letting it all out of your system had successfully flushed out your emotions, taking the rest of your energy along with it. the car was painfully quiet, but no part of you wanted to listen to anything.

satoru was whisked away by yaga, being delivered another mission he swore would take less than a day. ‘less than twelve hours’, he promised to be back for megumi’s first day. he would make it.

it was dark, and you milked all the time you could on school grounds. speaking with yaga and shoko, running through the still-developing information of missions to be sent on. cleaning the classrooms. the lockers. stocking the teachers lounge. dusting the armory. before you knew it the curfew ushered the students into their dorms.

a ringtone broke through your thoughts, making you jump. though the tune was soft, the sudden intrusion made it much more shrill. you fumbled with your phone in the passenger seat, seeing megumi’s contact on the screen.

“hello?”

“hey, mom?”

it took everything you had left not to gawk. he said it before, sparingly in desperation for comfort. his voice was quiet, a near-whisper despite the fact he was alone in his dorm. like he was nervous.

“yes, megumi?”

“um… are you home?”

you wondered if he forgot something. “no, i’m still driving. are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i just… can’t sleep, i guess…” he trailed off, hoping for you to fill in the gap.

“oh. okay. did you take–“

“do you think you could pick me up?” he interrupted. “and i just stay home tonight? you could drive me in the morning.”

you were quick to dissolve into a smile, pointed at the streetlamp on the sidewalk. sadness struck your eyes but you were too occupied by the warmth of his question to feel it.

“yeah. i can be back there in a few minutes, just let me turn around.”

“thanks.”

he didn’t hang up. neither did you. the silence lived on for a few seconds.

“mom?”

“yeah?”

“… gojo’s on a mission, right?”

you laughed, your hand sliding across the steering wheel as you reouted back to the school. “yeah, megs, he’ll be gone tonight.”

“he’s back tomorrow?”

“yeah, we can leave before he gets home.”

“thanks.”

bonus:

satoru tiptoed through the entrance of your home, brushing his blindfold over his hair and peeling it off his head. he hung it up with his keys, lax arms nearly missing the hook on the closet door meant for him. it was beyond late, and he was tired, but he was home like he said he would be.

he bent down to tie his shoes, buffering momentarily as he caught a glance of well-worn sneakers at the front door. they were as clean as they could be, though scuffed rubber turning gray and the laces becoming frayed where they were tightened most.

satoru made a grunt in acknowledgement to no one but himself, as he tossed his shoes down. he glanced around the living space, cautiously bringing himself to each room with a curious itch to scratch. a third pair of shoes. both backpacks on the door. dishes for two placed on the drying rack.

he was expertly quiet by nature, but found himself avoiding the squeaky floorboards on the stairs and all the way to the hallway. he was greeted with a blue sign, corners covered with dog stickers. the frilly handwriting of tsumiki warding off unwanted visitors with the phrase: “megumi’s room. keep out!!”

the door opened quietly, satoru pushing it open to the limit and stopping before it would let out an ungodly squeak. he insisted on never getting it fixed, knowing it bothered megumi.

megumi had his face shoved in his pillow, a desperate attempt to block out any light creeping through the crack of his bedroom door or the streetlamp just outside the window. he was always a light sleeper, always on edge, sleeping with his back to the wall so if something barged in the night he was ready. it was horrible he thought that way, you always said.

his duvet covers were black and white plaid, per his request three years ago when he begged to be free of the puppy sheets. still, he seemed small, curled up in a ball. his face was released of the usual tension and his light breathing filled the room. for a moment, he was little again.

satoru smiled, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

#spleen writes #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x mom!reader #jjk gojo #jjk megumi #jjk megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #mom!reader #satoru gojo fic #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader

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mahalkheeta · 6 months

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— imagine going down on heeseung at the back of his car 🫠

the way his legs would spread automatically to make room for you, a cocky smirk spreading across his lips. his hand comes to hold the back of your head, guiding you to his clothed cock that is practically throbbing for your attention. you haven't even started anything and he's already so needy for you.

"be a good girl, yeah?" he hums, making quick work of his jeans and his underwear. he lets the fabric pool around his knees, too desperate to have himself shoved into your tight mouth to care about completely removing his clothing.

his cock stands between his legs, the tip red and leaking. heeseung doesn't need to say much else really. the sight of his cock is already enough to have your mouth watering, not hesitating a second more before peppering open mouthed kisses around his head.

"fuckkk..." heeseung groans. his brows furrow as he struggles to keep his eyes open, fighting the onslaught of overwhelming pleasure just to watch his head disappear into your tight little mouth. he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine as your run your tongue across his slit, exactly the way he loves it. he's not afraid to let you know how well you're doing either.

"just like that, baby," he moans, his thighs tensing as you take more of his length into your mouth. "feels so fuckin' good." his fingers tighten into your hair, his hips instinctively bucking as you hollow your cheeks.

his head is thrown back into the leather material of the seat as you sink your mouth further down his length. one little peek up at him from your lashes has your panties soaked.

heeseung's brows are scrunched together, his eyes shut tight. his mouth is parted into an "o", his rough moans and grunts continuously flowing out of his mouth. knowing that your actions were the cause of his state simply makes you delirious.

when you moan around his cock at the sight of his ecstasy, his breath hitches. it takes a lot of effort for him to crack his eyes open to peer down at you, his cock stuffed into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat.

"you like that, hm?" he hums, grunting when you nod your head. "you like seeing how good you're makin' me feel, baby?" before you know it, the man is gripping your head in place, shallowly thrusting his length in and out of your mouth.

"oh, fuck," heeseung hisses, his thrusts turning frantic as you take whatever he gives you. "shit, baby... your mouth is making me feel so good." he murmurs, mindlessly fucking into your wet cavern.

when you start to time the bobbing of your head with his thrusts, heeseung completely loses it. his hips falter and his back arches to get himself to reach the back of your throat one last time.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he chants unbashedly, his orgasm approaching embarrassingly quick. "i'm gonna cum. a-ah! holy shit, baby 'm gonna cum."

you pop your mouth off of him. your hand wraps around his length, furiously pumping his cock as you open your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him to cum into. good lord, the sight had heeseung right on the edge.

"oh my god, yes, yes, yes! fuck, that's a good girl," he cries out, voice rising in tone. his hands move from yoir head to the headrest of the backseat, arms flexing as he feels the pressure build in his stomach. "fuckkk, baby, that's it! don't stop... keep going." he's sure his eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels the pressure in his stomach snap.

pearly white ropes of cum shoot out of him, his back permanently archea as his hips instinctively rub his tip across the smooth muscle of your tongue. "f-fuck!"

"a-ah! 'm cumming! take it all like a good girl," he moans. he's practically whinning with how high pitched his voice is. an airy and breathless pant escapes him with each drop of cum your milk from his tip, a stark contrast to the rough and hoarse tone he was using earlier.

"oh my god, you drive me nuts." he chuckes breathlessly, giving you no time to recover as he pulls you up for a heated kiss. it doesn't take long before he's pushing you back into the backseat, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses to every corner of your exposed skin.

"h-heeseung–" you try speaking, a gasp leaving you as his hand sneaks into your skirt to feel the wetness in between your legs.

"my poor baby," he coos, nibbling at a the skin right underneathe your collar bone. "got so wet giving me the best head, huh? you want a reward?"

"lay back, sweetheart. i'll take care of you."

#laena.library #enhypen hard hours #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #110623 #god pls i want him so bad.#probably has a lot of errors #its like 2 am pls forgive me :“D

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sunghoonbite · 2 months

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pairings: heeseung/jay/jake x reader

warnings/content: nsfw, first time sex, valentine’s day! mutual pining, foreplay, i kinda edged u all on this one i’m sorry if u need a part 2 i understand

minors dni, before reading

hi happy valentine’s day!! it’s just these 3 bc i didn’t have the time to write for sunoo tonight, but i totally can add him at some point if you guys want it. hope u enjoy :o

you wore lace lingerie to heeseung’s dorm to tease him, his t-shirt that he gave you some weeks ago thrown overtop of it, your legs hidden by comfy sweatpants.

you had gone out earlier today for valentine’s day, to the mall and out to eat. but you wanted more than that. you called him up and let him know you’d be over to spend the night, and of course he immediately accepted your invitation.

heeseung wanted more too. when you drove to the restaurant, your sephora bags from the mall sitting on the floor of his car, you sat in the passenger seat, silently looking out the window. he’d look over at you once he got to a stoplight, and his eyes trailed down to your thighs every time. the weather was nice and you wore a skirt for him.

silently, he cursed himself. why did he want to touch you so badly? you sat innocently next to him, legs crossed, but the only thought on his mind was the sounds you’d make as you made a mess over his car. would you whine his name? grab his hand as he fucked your cunt?

when you got to his dorm, he looked you up and down, infatuated, although you were dressed messily in his shirt. you leaned in once inside and your lips met.

“take my top off,” you whispered against his mouth, and his hands trailed up your back. you felt his lips curl upwards.

he obliged, shirt falling to his carpeted floor, and he blinked at the lace bralette that just barely covered your chest up.

“can you fuck me, heeseung?”

once your words spilled out of your mouth, he had you pressed into his bed within seconds.

jay took you out to eat on valentine’s day. you had spent the night before, not unusual for the two of you, and while drifting off to sleep you mumbled some barely coherent words about what restaurant you wanted to be taken to. so, gladly, he surprised you the next evening. “surprise” being a loose term, since he quite literally will do whatever you ask. taking you out to eat is a minuscule task.

you got ready in his bathroom, and stepped out in a silk, short black dress. his eyes wandered instantly, your curves evident as the fabric hugged your body, but he looked away after getting a good glance. jay was typically short with his compliments, not at all meaning that he disliked your appearance whatsoever, but he felt almost intimidated by your beauty, and feared if he spoke too much about what you looked like or wore that it would become uncomfortable.

so, he uttered softly, “you look good.”

when you got to the restaurant, though, he wasn’t able to look away, despite his efforts. you were seated across from him, and you were both yet to order. your eyes scanned the menu, unaware of his scanning your body, and you pressed your lips together as you thought about what to order. you looked up at him, ready to ask his opinion, and he was already staring at you.

“is something wrong?” you questioned.

“you look amazing,” he stated your name after his sentence.

you beamed, face beginning to flush, and you looked up as you brushed his comment off.

“thank you!” you smiled, fully aware jay’s words are always genuine.

he spoke your name again, pausing afterwards. you looked at him.

“how about we go in the car?” his voice was low.

you waited a moment, trying to understand his request, but tilted your head slightly once he didn’t elaborate.

“why? what’s wrong?”

quietly, he leaned in and replied, “i want to fuck you in the parking lot.”

his words were unusually bold for him. your mouth opened as you looked around, searching for if someone heard him.

“would that be okay?” he asked, before you had the possibility to answer, “it’s okay if you want to wait for another time.”

you took your purse that rested on the table, and began to sit up out of your chair.

“i want to,” you said quietly, “fuck me in the parking lot.”

so he did.

you and jake stayed in for the holiday. you both planned this ahead, so he surprised you. he bought you chocolates and flowers, and placed them in gift box of your favorite things. you spent the day together, captivated with one another’s presence.

now, though, it was getting late, and you sat together on his couch. you started the third movie of the night, snacks from earlier scattered over the table in front of you. his arm was around your waist, and your head rested on his shoulder to accompany your body that was curled up on his side. you were close, so close.

for some reason, your body started to heat up. his touch against you was nice, but you wanted more from him. you wanted jake on your skin. you wanted him to touch you more. lower. deeper.

you shifted, hoping to release some tension as you tried to inch closer to him. it wasn’t possible, you were already nearly connected to him, your clothes the only thing separating you. it was agonizing, you wanted to feel him.

you lifted your head up to get a better look at his face that was fixated on the screen. when he felt the warmth leave his shoulder, he turned to you. you kissed him once he did, his mouth meeting yours.

once the kiss broke, you moved closer, sitting on his lap now, straddling his thigh.

“what’re you doing baby?” he asked, mouth curled up into what you made out to be a sheepish grin.

you leaned in to kiss his neck.

“i need you,” you mumbled against his skin.

his hands wandered down and held onto your waist firmly.

“yeah? need me how?”

you lifted your head up once again and a sigh escaped your lips, you turned your head to the side.

“jake, i want you to fuck me,” you said, cursing yourself mentally for letting yourself say it so boldly, so desperately.

“all of a sudden?” he asked, but not complaining, completing his sentence with a small laugh.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to,” you added.

“no, no,” he replied, “i want to.”

as he said that, he lifted your top above your head to start undressing you. he pressed his palms against your waist and laid you down on the couch gently.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath at the sight of you, “you’re gonna look so pretty on my dick.”

you did, if you could call your mascara running pretty.

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fangirl-dot-com · 2 months

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Chapter 27 - Block Out the Haters

Hello beautiful people! How I've missed writing and uploading! I'm so sorry for the delay but this chapter and Across Every Universe part 2 had been in creation for a while. But expect a few updates this weekend!

I love you all and thank you for being so appreciating and patient!

Your body felt as though it was on autopilot as you walked through the paddock on Sunday morning. The weekend was kind to you. You completely dominated all the free practices and you’d be starting the race today on pole.

However, it wasn’t the weekend that was unkind.

It was them.

And it was all because of him.

Checo had decided to show up to the paddock at his former home race on Thursday. And like all “good” journalists do, they ask questions that bate people to speak words that can be turned into something they’re not.

Yet, the Mexican had spoken out with his chest puffed out and words full of confidence.

“I see my replacement has done well in the car. Too bad that she’ll be replaced soon enough. Like she did to me, someone will take her seat and brag about how great they are, leaving the old driver in the dust. It’s only a matter of time.”

Ah yes, only a matter of time until Red Bull drops you. The team that you had complete confidence in was not a ticking time bomb in your mind.

What if you didn’t convert pole into a win?

What if you accidentally took Max and yourself out of the race like Charles did to Checo in 2023?

What if the team can finally see how replaceable you were?

It had happened before…at Prema.

Number 1 driver to ending a contract early.

But this time, you were even further down the totem pole than you were at Prema.

You were a rookie and the second driver.

Replaceable and forgettable.

Your headphones were on and blasting music to cover up the nasty words thrown at you from the so-called fans. You had thankfully walked in with Max and Charles, who took the liberty to walk on either side of you. You were slouching as you walked, trying to make yourself smaller between the two men.

At least you understood that Charles and Max knew how you were feeling. Charles, who had been booed at this very race last year. And Max, who seemed to carry boos wherever he walked.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the large crown surrounding the opening to the garage. Checo was in the middle, smiling widely with sunglasses on his face. You froze, not walking any further. The navy and red clad drivers walked a bit before realizing that you weren’t between them anymore.

Max’s eyes flitted toward the garage and then toward a signature blue. He put his hand on your shoulder and lightly pulled one of the headphone cushions away from your ear.

His head jerked in the direction of the blue garage. “Why don’t you go hide in Williams for now. I’ll text you when it’s clear. Christian won’t let them get to you.”

You silently nodded as Max put the headphones back in place before heading in the direction of the safe garage.

Charles crossed his arms as he watched you walk away.

“Merde, I wish Arthur was here this weekend.”

The Monegasque sighed in relief once he saw Logan sling an arm around your shoulders and lead you away toward the back. Alex was following them, parading his limited edition Oscar Piastri paddle.

Max was silent as he gazed at the amount of journalists in front of the garage. He was internally cringing, knowing that the journalist would attack him as well.

Charles threw a smile in his direction as he bumped the sullen Dutchman.

“Do you need to hide in my garage as well? Be babysat Mr. Verstappen?”

The Ferrari driver wiggled his eyebrows as Max rolled his eyes. However, he shrugged and looked straight into Charles’s green eyes.

“Lead the way Mr. Leclerc.”

Charles’s eyes widened for only a moment before grabbing the backpack attached to Max. The brunette gently led the blond away, knowing that his childhood rival didn’t like crowds any more than you did.

You had found yourself hidden away in Logan’s room, on a facetime with your boyfriend. Logan was sitting next to you, trying to reach a new high score on whatever game he was playing. Oscar had somehow also found himself in the American’s room and was currently looking at Alex’s paddle.

The Aussie scoffed as he twirled the offending thing. He was silently listening to you borderline cry to Arthur.

“And then they threw a water bottle at me. And it was one of the metal ones too!” you cried out, hand rubbing your face.

Arthur offered you a sad frown.

“What did you do?”

You sucked in a breath.

“I caught it and I kept it.”

The three men suddenly laughed at your confession. You looked around confused.

“What? It was a nice one!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nicer than the one I gave to my brother to give to you.”

Your eyebrow cocked. “Um no, not Kevin.”

Logan’s eyes glanced at you as he muttered, “You named your water bottle?”

You shoved him, making him lose his spot. “You don’t?”

Oscar suddenly piped up. “That’s a bit childish, don’t you think. And how cliche is it to fall in love with your teammate.”

That earned him an eyeroll as you threw one of Logan’s pillows at him. He caught it easily.

“Sorry Os-cah, at least I can act on it. We all can’t secretly be in love with our teammates.”

A screech erupted from the Aussie’s side of the room. You and Logan giggled as Oscar’s face bloomed red with a deep blush. The pillow came back flying.

“I am not in love with Lando. And plus, I have a girlfriend.”

“Sure. Didn’t stop you from almost kissing Arthur that one time.”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “Number 1, it was through glass. Number 2, he leaned in first.”

“Excuse me?” you asked into your phone, looking at Arthur through the screen. Said boyfriend stuttered a bit as he tried to come up with an excuse. He only stopped as you spoke again.

“It’s ok Osc, he has some nice lips.”

A groan left Logan’s lips as he listened to this conversation. He leaned over and snatched the phone from your hands.

“Hey!”

“Sorry, poor connection. Call back later.”

The American pressed the red X as you looked at him in disbelief. Logan quickly deposited your phone back to your lap before picking up his own phone.

Your mouth was still wide open.

You were about to reply when there was a knock on the door. Logan huffed as he stood from the couch and walked toward the door. When he opened it, he was met with Christian Horner and a very pouty Max Verstappen. You sheepishly grinned as Christian just silently pointed over his shoulder and turned around, walking away.

Max stayed at the door, waiting for you as you packed your stuff. You quickly said goodbye to the best friends before following Max back to the Red Bull garage. You noticed his pout on the way.

“What’s got you so pouty.”

“I was about to beat Charles at FIFA and then Christian scared me, causing me to misplay and not score.”

“So Charles won?”

A huff from the Dutchman let you know that you were correct.

Thankfully the crowd had died down when you returned. But, to your chagrin, Checo was still there, looking down into your car. Mitch seemed uncomfortable as she stood near, needing to get the last bit of data before talking to you about the strategy.

You watched as she lightly nudged the Mexican, but was not met with any movement. Your anger rose as he blatantly didn’t move at all. You loudly cleared your throat, making most of the men turn their heads toward your direction, Checo included.

“I think my strategist needs to be by my car. You wouldn’t mind moving far back to give her some space?” you questioned loudly.

Perez seemed to get a bit of the message and took multiple steps back. Your jaw clenched as he smirked at you. At that moment, you knew he had done that on purpose.

You only walked past him, going to your room to get changed. When you walked back out, there was a small interview going on, once again with Checo and now Max.

The interviewer asked, “So Max, how does it feel to have your old teammate here to watch you win?”

You could tell that Max wanted to wince at the question, but he let it be.

Max replied, “Uh, it is nice to see Sergio back in the paddock. It is Mexico after all. But, Y/n is looking very strong and she won Monza from pole. So the team is just going to let us race and I’ll just try to keep up with her.”

The laugh that the Dutchman let out was obviously forced, but you were thankful for the backing from Max.

You watched as Checo obnoxiously laughed as he put his hands on Max’s shoulders, shaking the driver just a bit. Max’s shoulders tensed under the hard grip of the ex-driver’s hands. He was thankful that Perez wasn’t doing that to you, or you might have had a bit of PTSD because of it.

The Mexican began to speak, “Ah Max, always so modest. I bet that he’ll overtake her on the first corner. She might pull a me from last year. Eat some Ferrari tyre and DNF on the first lap. And before you know it, the team is going to drop her. I bet Max would like that. Maybe Daniel will get his rightful seat back.”

Max jerked away from the hands that gripped his shoulders before speaking, “Y/n happens to be a very safe driver. There might be a bit of fighting between us on the track but that’s just racing. And the seat was never Daniel’s to begin with. It was always her’s. Too bad you couldn’t keep up to keep the seat.”

If you could see Max’s eyes, you knew that they would be stormy and cold.

Your eyes wanted to water from the soft words that Max was speaking. He was really defending you to the best of his ability. Your eyes found Christian at the other side and your feet quickly took you toward the father-figure. Yet, you heard a closing statement from Perez that set your nerves ablaze.

“She won’t get the win. She was lucky in Monza, but that’s all it was. Max DNF-ed, giving her the win. This race will truly show you how talented she truly is.”

Your shoulders deflated as you tapped Christian’s shoulder, nodding over at the journalist. Christian’s eyes widened as he stalked toward the trio. He had anger in his eyes.

“I told you, no more journalists or interviews in the garage. The race is about to start,” the Briton stated, voice ice cold.

The journalist visibly gulped before packing up quickly and walking away. Max took this opportunity to also find his way back to your side. The two of you watched as Christian completely scolded the Mexican. You couldn’t hear it, but whatever your team principal said, it make Checo red with embarrassment.

Max gave you a shit-eating grin before pulling you into a hug.

“Thanks for being my best teammate kid. You’ve changed me for the better. Let’s go get you that second win.”

You pulled away with tears in your eyes as you laughed a bit.

“You’re just going to let me win? Thee Max Verstappen purposely losing a race to little old me?”

The Dutchman shook his head. “No, I’m not going to let you win. You’re going to take it from me.”

Well, Checo was right about only one thing.

Max did overtake you on the first turn.

But that was it.

You didn’t eat Ferrari tyre.

Your seat was yours to keep.

And Max was right about everything.

You made him work for the lead and overtook him on the second to last lap. Your cars fought for all they could give, drivers wanting another taste of victory.

For Max, it seemed like it had been a while.

For you, it was like Monza was yesterday.

And that sweetness from the win. The nickname you earned there from the Italians (who were much nicer).

Charles Leclerc, the Predestined.

Max Verstappen, the Inevitable.

Y/n L/n, the Long Awaited.

The victory was oh so sweet. Maybe you just really had to learn to block out the haters. It’s what you should have done at the beginning of the weekend.

But you showed everyone who you were as you stook on the nose of you trusted Red Bull. Fists near your body as you yelled, hunched over.

Max was right behind you, followed by the familiar Ferrari of Charles Leclerc. The two rivals watched as you pointed at the now booing crowd. They laughed as your motioned that you couldn’t hear them, cupping your hand by your helmet where your ear would have been and shaking your head. You shrugged and jumped off.

Your hand clasped Max’s hand and then Charles’s. You walked (more like skipped) by your team, being pulled in by the mechanics.

You took your helmet off quickly and got in line to be interviewed. Thankfully, for once, it was a woman.

She was smiling widely as she spoke into the microphone.

“Y/n that was splendid driving you did out there. And congratulations on your second win. I know this win is a little different than Monza, so tell me a bit about your race and how you’re feeling.”

You smiled as you spoke into the mic that you held.

“Ah well, this is very different from Monza. It was fun to race against my teammate. Normally, I’m behind him getting a nice tow, but the team really wanted to see us just go at it. Obviously, at the end of the day, Red Bull is what matters, but I had fun with Max. And this win just feel more special because I can tell that not a lot of people wanted me to win.”

You were huffing by the end of your statement, but the lady was grinning at your answer.

“Well, I will let you go celebrate, but mighty well done!”

You skipped a bit to the cool down room before heading to the podium. You wanted to follow Charles and Max, but someone led you down to the little lift where your car was waiting.

You knew that Charles and Max had already walked out when the lift slowly started to rise. On your head was the biggest sombrero you had ever seen. You climbed up on the nose of your car and sat cross-legged as you slowly rose. Once it stopped, you took your place at the top step and put your hands behind your back.

Jokingly, you took the hat off and placed it on Max’s head. He only rolled his eyes (but kept it on for your amusement).

People tried to yell and boo during your anthem, but you honestly couldn’t hear them over your own heartbeat. It was nice to see a certain disgruntled Mexican down below, arms crossed as he looked everywhere but up.

You smirked as you showered champagne onto Max and Charles, with you getting sprayed in return.

Fuck them haters – honestly.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing rookie got a second win and max got a hat! time for a siesta!

due to strong storms and flooding, the Sao Palo Grand Prix is canceled and will not be rescheduled

liked by y/n.nation, formulala_delulu, arthur_leclerc, and 534,209 others

rookie_freshmanyear OH YEAH - THAT'S MY DRIVER

max&co max got the hat back

y/n&max4ever she truly is the best teammate max has ever had

y/n_on_top true, what checo said was horribly wrong

maxverstappen1 ok you're done - no more wins

y/n.89 booooo charles_leclerc certified every other racer hater landonorris tomatoes tomatoes tomatoes oscarpiastri you all can speak for yourselves :(

y/n.nation sad for Brazil but they will be in our thoughts

formulafan still can't believe that the next race is FREAKING VEGAS BABY

rookieroo I know right! what if - hear me out - y/n wins again as a homecoming formulala_delulu ok let's get you back to bed

mericanf1_fan YEAH VEGAS 'MERICAAAAA

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emeritusemeritus · 2 months

Text

I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]

Title: I didn’t want to be alone.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.

Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.

Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.

Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.

Word count: 3.4k

This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.

The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.

He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.

Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour.

He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.

You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.

"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.

Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.

You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.

"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."

Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head. His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.

"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.

As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.

You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.

He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink. Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.

When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.

"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.

"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.

"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."

Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.

"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.

"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.

"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.

You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."

Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.

"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."

You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.

"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.

Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.

You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.

You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.

For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.

Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.

He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.

Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.

Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.

"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.

"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.

"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."

At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.

"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.

Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.

It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.

He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.

He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.

"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.

"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.

"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.

"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.

"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.

"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"

Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.

"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.

"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.

"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.

"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."

Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.

"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.

"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.

"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.

"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.

"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #eddie munson comfort fic #eddie munson taglist #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #wayne munson

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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months

Text

"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

_______________________

“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

#max verstappen x reader #x reader #reader insert #max verstappen x you #max verstappen image #max verstappen x engineer!reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

Text

tornado warnings

summary: out of all the girls Eddie could like, of course he'd pick Jason Carver's girlfriend. He kept ignoring the warnings, and now he's in too deep.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, pining!Eddie, friends to lovers, requited love but both parties are idiots, Dustin trying to talk sense into Eddie, cw for Jason being a misogynistic asshole, song fic, pure fluff, slow burn ish, oneshot

☆ word count: 6.5K+ (she's worth it i promise) ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

It's sprialed out of control. Eddie knows that now.

It's as if he's been struck by lightning, the realization jolting him awake when your fingers deftly brush against his whilst you pass over the chemistry pop quiz. The touch lasts for less than two seconds, accompanied by a friendly smile and a quiet "good luck" thrown in, but it's enough for him to falter and almost let the paper slip from his fingers.

It reminds him of the first time you two met, late after school - you because of cheerleading practice, him because of detention.

Eddie was exhausted. Having shown up late to school with mismatched socks and his roleplaying notebook forgotten by the driver's seat of his van - not that it mattered anymore, considering he had to cancel tonight's session due to detention - he swore that the world was out to get him.

It was half past five and the spring rain was unrelenting, the pitter patter of water droplets against glass windows drowning out all other noise. Eddie scowled, not even the weather was on his side today. He'd have to make a run for it to his car, with nothing more than a floppy notebook to hold over his head.

His footsteps faltered, however, when he heard a feminine voice swear followed by the clattering of metal. Peeking his head around the corner, he was met with none other than the sight of you struggling to open up your locker, delicate fingers fumbling with the lock desperately.

"Oh for fuck's sake." you swore, trying the combination again and pulling the lock with all your strength to no avail. Dropping your duffel bag onto the floor, you tried again, this time grasping the metal lock with both your manicured hands.

No luck.

Sighing, you dropped your arms and fell forward onto your locker head first, before perking up and looking around for someone to ask for help - perhaps a janitor would know how to deal with this. Your eyes met Eddie's, and his eyes widened in an instant (fearing the worst, being caught staring wordlessly at one of the most popular girls in school) but your eyes lit up with recognition and joy.

"Hey! Eddie, right?" you called out, waving him over.

You knew his name? Eddie was simultaneously flattered and shocked, considering you two were separated by several stratospheres in the popularity pyramid. He was in your Advanced Physics class junior year before he dropped down to regular Physics, and even then you sat by the front row with the rest of the cheerleading squad whilst he doodled in his notebooks at the back.

"Do you think you could try opening up my locker for me? I left some important notes in there and my European History test is tomorrow, so I really need them." you sheepishly added, leaning against your locker. Eddie hesitated for a few seconds - was this a trick? Why were you being so nice to him? Why was the smile on your face so pure and so genuine, never once faltering?

Ignoring the sirens going off in his mind, he wordlessly nodded and walked up to your locker.

"The combination is 8-1-8-2."

He spun the dials around and tugged at the lock, but it remained stuck. He tried again, being extra careful to spin the numbers to the exact digit this time, but it still didn't budge.

"Nothing?" you questioned anxiously, peeking over from behind his shoulder. Eddie just grinned at that, hand flying to his jean front pocket to fish out an extra hairpin.

"Maybe not. Hold on."

Bending the metal pin straight, he fumbled with the little hole at the bottom of the lock, until a satisfying 'click' rang out. He was then able to finally unhook the lock and open it up to the contents of your locker - textbooks and folders spilling with notes neatly piled up at the bottom, with a Dior perfume, tube of lipstick and a jar of gummies sitting on the top shelf.

He was about to make a lighthearted joke about the gummies when the joke died in his mouth at the warm sensation of your arms wrapping around his waist, face buried in his shirt as you joyously embraced him.

"YES! Thank you so much, Eddie, you are a lifesaver!"

The sudden burst of affection was totally foreign to him and his senses were going haywire - overwhelmed at how your hair was tickling his exposed skin, your sweet scent (notes of caramel, honey and vanilla) evident but not too strong from this proximity. He fumbled over what to do with his arms, not knowing what was appropriate to do, before awkwardly settling on patting your back with his left hand.

"It's uh, no big deal." he managed to stutter out, small grin on his lips. A grin far outshined by the massive one on yours, bubbly laughter flowing as you quickly dug out the notes from your locker before slamming it shut and locking it back up.

There was another foreign sensation now beginning to register in his brain. Warmth, pleasant fires kindling in his lower stomach, an ache in his chest to have you close to him again. And his next sentence was blurted out before he could even think through all the repercussions.

"Do you need a ride home? Since it's raining and all."

"Yeah! That'd be great."

Following the locker incident, you began to wave at him and exchange quick greetings with him in the hallways. It was a minor change, a verbal acknowledgment instead of silent smiles and polite nods, but that didn't stop others from giving Eddie dirty looks. After all, why was the most popular girl in school giving any time of her day to the resident school freak?

Truth be told, he didn't understand it either. But he wasn't going to complain either, only returning the gestures wholeheartedly. This amicable state of acquaintance - knowing each other's names and being friendly, but never crossing the line into friendship - was broken less than a week later, when he was sitting in Mr.Wilson's office and being lectured about how he really needed to get his grades up.

"I've assigned you a tutor. She's one of my star students and she's kindly agreed to tutor you for free, so please do show up on time and try." the elderly man sighed under his breath, pushing his metal rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose before shuffling through a stack of papers.

"Her name's (Y/n). I'll leave the specifics of the arrangement up to the two of you, but the expectation is one session every week or two. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

So here he was now. Standing in front of your house, double checking the address scribbled down hurriedly onto his notebook for the hundredth time, agonizing over what to do. Should he knock? Ring the door bell? He was a few minutes early, maybe it'd be best to just wait for you outside-

"Hi there!" you exclaimed, throwing open the door excitedly, making him jump back in surprise. "Come on in, we can go up to my room."

Your hands were preoccupied with drying your wet hair with a towel - it looked as if you had just emerged from the shower, the thought of which made his throat dry, a dirty sight he had to immediately scrub from his mind. Not that it worked particularly well, not when you were wearing an oversized black t-shirt that showed off your legs and the cheerleading shorts you had on hugged your thighs perfectly.

Carefully eyeing the living room and kitchen, he half expected for your parents to jump out and begin to interrogate him as to his identity.

"Are your... parents around?" he'd asked quietly, fingers anxiously twiddling by his sides. You shook your head sideways.

"My parents work out of state most of the time. My godfather drops by every few days though to make sure I'm fine though."

He raised his eyebrows at that, following behind you up the stairs.

"Doesn't that get lonely?"

You hummed, dabbing the last droplets of water from your forehead.

"I guess so. But Hopper - my godfather - has a lot of friends in the community so I get invited over to a lot of things. Plus cheerleading and school stuff keeps me pretty busy so it's not too bad."

You then pushed open the door to your bedroom with your shoulder, stepping backwards to let Eddie in first.

He marveled at how well organized your room was: sunflowers potted by the windowsill, a collection of vinyls leaning against a propped up vinyl record player playing a slow Whitney Houston song. White wardrobe pushed against the wall next to pastel pink drawers, makeup and skincare products neatly placed one after another.

Your cheerleading uniform was ironed and nicely draped over a cushy velvet chair, a full length body mirror with polaroids of you and your friends stuck to its sides on the white wooden frame.

You led him over to your study desk, pristine and white, and gestured to the chair to your left. He was still drinking in the sight of your room as you closed the door shut and hung your towel over the frame of your bed - which was complete with frilly lace sheets, pink and yellow cushions, bumblebee patterns stitched into the fabric.

In summary, Eddie thought, the whole room was so damn... clean and cute. A stark and sore contrast to his messy room, unfolded laundry everywhere and his walls crowded with his guitar and various metal band posters. He was just grateful now that he had insisted on doing the first session at your place instead of his.

"Everything okay?" you questioned, noticing his silence and awed expression. He blinked at you wordlessly at that, mind blanking in an instant.

"Yep! Amazing. Awesome, really. Just very stoked to get started on this exciting English Literature." he boasted, tapping his hand down on the thick textbook. You giggled at that, leaning against your chair.

"Listen, I know that Steinbeck and Fitzgerald aren't as exciting as Iron Maiden or Black Sabbath, but I promise you that there's a charm to these authors as well."

"You know about Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath?" Eddie perked up at that, pleasantly surprised. You rolled your eyes playfully, as if it was common knowledge.

"Duh, what else would I listen to whilst I jog? I can't say I'm as big of a fan as you, but I do listen to a bit of everything and metal is a cool genre."

It was his turn to chuckle, leaning forward onto the table to rest his head on his palms.

"You know, (L/n), you're not at all like what I'd expected you to be."

"What'd you mean by that, Munson?" you challenged, quirking up your eyebrows teasingly, his heart skipping a beat at the action.

"Nothing bad, I promise! Just, I don't know, your friends aren't as friendly or as cool as you."

You click your tongue at that, faux frown on your glossy lips.

"But aren't we friends? And you're plenty cool and friendly."

Friends. The word felt heavy on his tongue, goosebumps rising on his skin. Plus, you'd called him cool and friendly - by far the nicest thing any popular student had ever said to him. All logic flew out the window at that moment, walls tumbling down faster than the next words on his lips.

"Of course we're friends."

It was dangerous territory, a quiet voice was nagging him in the crevices of his mind that this was totally new and treacherous - accepting the friendship of the most popular and desired girl in school. The sirens were blaring in his head, red warning signs clouding his vision.

But Eddie consciously chose to turn the other way, running farther into your embrace.

"Cool. Glad to hear it, friend."

Once the initial hurdle was jumped over, the label of 'friends' hanging over you and Eddie, everything fell into place. Weeks flew by with tutoring sessions filled with inside jokes and excited ramblings, with Eddie taking every chance to insert a dirty joke in somehow to make you laugh.

He walked you from class to class at your insistence, your sharp glare at any staring passerbys enough to shut them up. Conversation was never awkward, there was plenty to talk about. His D&D sessions, the latest Metallica record, the next football game that Eddie would begrudgingly turn up to (but ultimately always would, just to be able to hug you in celebration afterwards).

It was all platonic, he told himself. Sure, he thought you were pretty and fun, but that didn't mean anything. He had it all under control, he reasoned, no, insisted. He was feigning igornace, arguing with his inner voice that it was all just excitement and nerves over having a friend who was popular.

"A lot on your mind?" you asked him a few months later, tongue swiping across the top of your ice cream, legs uncrossing underneath your cheerleading uniform.

You'd insisted on celebrating his first A in English Literature by going out for ice cream - "it's on me" you'd added, making it impossible to say no. It was a sizzling hot summer day and both of you were seeking refuge under the shade of a large willow tree, sitting on the roof of Eddie's van with him only a few inches separated from you.

'Yes.' Eddie wanted to say. 'I can't stop thinking about you.' he wanted to confess. 'I hear your laughter whilst I fold my clothes. I see you in the corner of my eyes everywhere I go, laying on my sofa with your legs dangling off the armrest, smiling at me in the rearview mirror from the backseat of my car.'

But he didn't say that.

"Not really. Just still reeling from the fact that I got an A." he joked, choosing to suppress his inner thoughts.

"Aw, well, you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, Eds. This is just the beginning, I know it."

Humming, he shot you a quick wink.

"I'll take your word for it, doll."

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, until a loud shriek was heard from inside the ice cream store. A girl Eddie vaguely recognized from one of his classes was nodding fiercely and hugging her boyfriend close, making his eyebrows raise in piqued curiosity.

"Oh, probably just a promposal for the dance next week." you commented lazily, tongue flicking at the top of your cone.

"Are you... going?" Eddie tested the waters, eyes cautiously picking apart your reaction.

"Yeah, I am! Jason's being really difficult about the color palette we're matching as though. He wants pink and blue, I'd rather we do yellow and blue or pink and white."

Eddie's vision flashed white at the mention of Jason's name, bone chilling cold seeping through his chest.

"Jason as in... Jason Carver?"

You nodded, and the pain he felt upon seeing the fond smile that spread across your lips instantly felt worse than a million needle pricks at his heart.

"That's him. He can be kind of difficult at times but... he's my boyfriend and I love him, you know?"

Eddie knew he'd never have a chance with you. He never deluded himself into that fantasy, but now it was confirmed, written in clear black and white: you were taken. Not only that, but you loved Jason Carver. He was your boyfriend.

It made total sense. How had Eddie not noticed it before? Perhaps you had mentioned it to him previously, an off the cuff comment here and there, but Eddie wasn't listening carefully. Too intoxicated on your quiet giggles, too busy admiring the golden sunlight kissing your hairline.

It was impossible to prevent the smile from dissipating from his face, a forced grin instead replacing his genuine warm smile.

"Yeah. Makes sense, I guess."

"How about you, Eds?" you excitedly asked, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Anyone caught your eye that you want to take to the dance?"

It burned his mouth to respond, heart throbbing, fingers strained by his sides.

"Yeah, but uh... I don't think I'll be able to make it, so I'm not going to ask her."

You frowned at that and there were a few drops of strawberry ice cream hanging from your lips, which Eddie reached out to wipe away with his thumb instinctively.

"S-sorry." he muttered out, retracting his hand quickly as if he'd been burnt.

"Yeah, you better be." Jason barked out from behind Eddie, making him straighten up in alarm, not having heard Jason's car pull into the parking lot.

The jock glared at Eddie as he walked around to wrap a possessive arm around your waist, pulling you right against his figure. Your widening smile was unmissable, so was the way you kicked your legs forward in delighted joy when Jason suddenly swooped down and pressed a harsh kiss against your lips.

Eddie awkwardly averted his gaze as Jason continued to glare at the metalhead from over your shoulder, deepening the kiss possessively, his vice grip only loosening from your waist when you patted him on the back indicating that you needed air.

"Ready to go, babe?" Jason asked, not even missing a beat. You nodded, scrunching up the paper cup in your hands and throwing it away to the nearest bin.

"I'll catch you round?" you asked cheerfully, linking your hands with Jason and shooting Eddie a hopeful smile. The smart answer to give would've been to make up an excuse, to cut the friendship there and for good - especially with how Jason was steaming with anger next to you, blue icy eyes narrowing in on Eddie's figure.

There was a storm brewing, toxic smoke billowing into the air. But Eddie stood there, unwavering, only nonchalantly rolling back his shoulders and winking at you.

"Yep. See you round."

Jason's hatred for Eddie only intensified as time went on - you'd tagged along to a D&D session once and the jock found you leaning over Eddie mid-dice roll, metal ring clad fingers on top of yours as he guided you. Eddie waited for you after school whenever you had late practice to drive you back home, only for Jason to then pop out of nowhere and insist on driving you home (though he lived in the opposite direction from you).

"I don't fucking trust you, freak." Jason once spat the moment you ran off to the bathroom, leaving the two men to be standing around your locker. "I don't know what the fuck my girlfriend sees in you, but you better not be dragging her into any of your shit."

Eddie clenched his jaw, fists grasping and ungrasping by his sides in an attempt to control his anger.

"Relax, Carver. We're just friends."

Jason just rolled his eyes at that, stepping forward threateningly.

"Yeah, friends. Just don't get your dick hard thinking she's yours. She shouldn't be wasting her time on you anyways."

Eddie's blood boiled at the way the basketball player talked about you, wanting to control and dictate everything you did.

"She's not property for you to fucking control, jackass." he retorted, only succeeding in causing Jason's nostrils to flare with fury.

"I'm back, and I- Oh." you paused, noticing the tension lingering in the air and the defensive postures. "Is everything alright?"

The boys stared at each other silently, hatred still tinging the air, but it all melted into fake smiles on both their faces when turning to you.

"Yep." they both affirmed.

"Everything's... perfect. Just as it should be." Jason slowly drawled, eyeing Eddie up and down. It was a threat, an alarm bell ringing right by his ears. It dawned on Eddie that this was becoming unavoidable now, the mess that he was in, his love for you an unstoppable tornado.

It was incredibly reckless to continue to be friends with you. But god, it felt so damn good.

So out of selfish nature or not, Eddie didn't pull away. He chose to clutch on to you tighter, grit his teeth harder, damn all the consequences that would follow. He'd wander closer into the eye of the storm, wholeheartedly and willingly, all for you.

Though Jason wasn't silent about his unhappiness over your friendship with Eddie, you never let it affect you. So Eddie continued to be your friend, maybe even best friend at this point after six months, what in between Saturday movie nights and late evening talks on the bleachers after practice.

Eddie forced himself to be content with being your go-to platonic company: of helping you pick out a dress for your date with Jason whilst leaning against the headboard of your bed, carrying your things for you at school as you rushed to class after cheerleading practice, laughing with you over a pack of cheep bear in someone's backyard during a loud house party.

It hurt - doing all the things couples did, but under the label of friendship and under Jason's persistent gaze. After all, Eddie was the one to hold your hair back when you'd had too much to drink at the end of year summer party, helping to wipe your mouth with a stray towel and gently guiding a water bottle to your lips.

Your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, having ditched you the moment his fellow basketball players called him over. It made Eddie furious, how it seemed Jason only wanted you as a trophy to show off to the school before abandoning you in favor of his friends, but you seemed to be blind to it.

Besides, Eddie reasoned, who was he to intervene? Overall, you were happy, right?

The metalhead wasn't even in the bathroom with you for more than three minutes when Jason came pummeling through the door, chest heaving with anger upon having been told that you were seen stumbling into an empty bathroom with Eddie 'the freak' Munson.

The jock never said it - at least in front of Eddie - but it was clear that he suspected something more than friendship, you two always tilting dangerously close into romantic territory. Jason ordered Eddie out, insisting that you were in need of your boyfriend instead of him, and with a heavy heart Eddie sighed and wandered back into the party.

He still thought about you the rest of the night though, no matter how many jaegar bomb shots he downed.

Come autumn, and it wasn't just Jason who saw what was going on. At this point, you were beloved by everyone in the Hellfire Club and you'd even swung by Eddie's trailer multiple times. Wayne and the kids would all tease Eddie for his clear infatuation with you, which Eddie would vehemently deny, though he knew deep down they were right.

"So are you ever going to admit that you like her?" Dustin teased, knocking his shoulder into the older boy's.

They were sitting on the railings of the skate park, the boys having lost a game of rock-paper-scissors with Max to pick between going to the arcade or to the skate park. The redhead was busy coaching you on how to skate - your legs wobbly on the skateboard as Max held onto your arms, wide amused smiles on both your faces - whilst Lucas and Mike ran off to the corner store to get some water.

"What, (Y/n)?" Eddie tried to play dumb.

"Duh, who the hell else?" Dustin retorted, appalled that his friend would even try to feign ignorance.

Both boys picked up their heads at the sound of loud laughter, your back on the pavement as you seemingly fell, Max laughing so hard that she had tears in her eyes and was hunched over to clutch her stomach. The fond smile gracing Eddie's lips was instantaneous- you were always so good with the kids, they all adored you. The boys pestered you for gaming tips, Max and you bonded over music, Erica thought you were the "coolest adult" she knew.

It made Eddie fall even deeper for you, his heart now fully in the eye of the hurricane. You were ripping down all his walls, your laughter destructive and haunting. You left him dizzy and stumbling through the hallways, heart heavy with infatuation, lips aching to be on yours.

"There. Right there." Dustin commented, pointing right at Eddie's face. "You get that stupid grin on your face whenever she smiles or talks or shit, does anything really. We all have bets on when you're finally gotta make a move, so when are you?"

Eddie shoved off the curly haired boy, fingers scrambling to brush off the sleeves of his jacket in false boredom.

"For the millionth time, Henderson, she has a boyfriend. Said boyfriend, who by the way, hates me and frankly I don't feel like being a homewrecker." he spat, venom dropping from his voice at the thought of Jason. Letting out a short exhale, he flashed the younger boy a tired smile.

"Besides, we've been friends for like, what, over half a year now? The ship has sailed, I've got no chance."

"You're just saying that because you don't see the way she looks at you." the younger boy insisted. "Seriously. Friends don't look at each other like that."

Eddie had nothing to say to that, you looking up from the opposite site of the skate park to wave at the two boys with delight, which they both quickly returned. The fluttering in Eddie's stomach was easy to anticipate at this point, as was the heavy pang in his heart at the realization that Jason would be coming to pick you up in a short bit.

"She's just being nice, Dustin." Eddie muttered, running a shaky hand through his hair.

You looked ethereal whilst skating, so carefree, hair flowing in the wind as your knees bent and braced for the dip off the edge. Fading red orange sunlight accentuating the dip and curve of your facial features, autumn foliage stuck in your messy hair.

You'd come into his life, a tornado, and destroyed his whole being. He was wandering alone now, knees brushing up against green fields with nothing but trees surrounding him, but Eddie didn't mind.

So long as he got to continue to watch you smile like that.

Cut to the present, Eddie's mindlessly filling out the pop quiz, brain still fuzzy from your touch lingering over his skin, ghostly yet ever so present. The rest of the class flies by and it's the end of the school day, so Eddie quickly moves to shove his things into his bag, crushing all his paper notes with the haste with which he does so.

"Any plans for tonight?" you ask, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

It's Friday night, which to everyone else means parties and fancy dinners, but to Eddie it usually means going back to the trailer and watching a rerun of a shitty sitcom over a bowl of microwave mac and cheese. Not that he'll tell you that, though.

"Not really. Why, up for another spontaneous drive through town?" he teases, heart fluttering hopefully. You sigh and shake your head sideways.

"Can't - Jason's taking me out on a date, but... rain check for maybe next Friday?" you question, peeking up from your lashes.

"Sure, next Friday." the bitter smile and forced ambivalence to his tone is painful, but it's a dull ache he's made peace with at this point. "If anything changes, you know where to find me." Eddie jokes, cocking his head to the side.

And unexpectedly, things do change.

In the blink of an eye, it seems.

Eddie's mid-way through the rented copy of Evil Dead, hands stuck in a greasy bowl of popcorn as he lies chest down on the sofa, blue light from the television illuminating his tired face, until someone bangs against his trailer door furiously.

Jumping up at the sudden loud noise, he pauses the VHS tape, abandoning his bowl of popcorn on the couch before throwing open the door.

It's you, mascara running down your cheeks, arms crossed over your chest, clutching at your skin so harshly that the baby blue dress you're wearing bunches at your waist.

"I broke up with him." is the first thing you say, voice shaky, body still trembling. "He said some, fuck, awful things, Eds. Really awful things. I had no choice and I know it was the right thing to do but-"

Your voice breaks as another wave of tears overwhelms you.

"But then why does it still hurt?"

Eddie's quick to shush you and envelope you into his arms, not caring that your makeup is probably smudging against his shirt, his hands coming up to comfortingly cradle your head against his chest. Your body trembles with every sob that escapes your lips and Eddie presses a soft kiss to your hairline, wishing nothing more than to take your pain away from you.

His mind is whirring with a million different things to say to you, but your comfort is on the forefront of his mind above all.

"Hey... have you ever been to the park by Saint Street? You know, the one with the playground." he quietly suggests, pulling away slightly.

You look up at him, confused, wiping your eyes.

"I don't think so, why?"

Picking up the jean jacket thrown over his kitchen counter, he digs out his car keys from the side pocket and extends his left hand out for you to grab.

"Because. We should go. It's impossible to be sad at a playground."

It's a stupid thing to say, childish even, but it does the job of putting a smile back onto your face, your cold hands grasping his warm ones. It's a quick drive - no less than 15 minutes - but he can't help but look over at you at every intersection and red light, making sure that you're okay.

He jumps out first to open the car door for you before helping you climb over the metal fence - "no one comes by, I swear" he assures you - shaky feet meeting dead leaves and dirt, he's quick to tug you towards the swing set.

He refuses to let you talk - "play first, until you stop crying" - and he insists on pushing you on the swing as high as he can. He chases you down the slides then races you to the top of the jungle gym, drunk off of your bubbly laughter and the way your eyes twinkle in the moonlight.

Neither of you know how much time has passed before you two sit across from each other on the seesaw, ribs hurting from the lack of oxygen. You can faintly make out Eddie's features in the dark - moonlight illuminating his curls, amused grin on his handsome face (the same face you've been unable to stop thinking about for the past few months).

"So what'd Jason say?" Eddie asks, leaning forward. "But only if you wanna talk about it, of course." he clarifies.

You let out a slow exhale, nodding tiredly.

"No, no, you... you deserve to know. Jason was on edge at the restuarant - I didn't think much of it, he's always a bit on edge - but he just went crazy today. Like, the moment the waiter left he started screaming at me, accusing me of cheating on him."

"Cheating on him?" Eddie strains his neck with the speed with which he picks his head up to stare at you, wide mouthed. "You? You would never!"

You scoff at that, thumbs anxiously twiddling on your lap.

"I know. That's what I tried to tell him but he wouldn't hear it. Just kept on going and on about how I was clearly in love with-" you stop yourself then, the gravity of the situation falling into place like dominoes.

You just broke up with your boyfriend of nearly a year. You came to Eddie crying, showing up at his doorstep in a heartbeat. Now you two are staring at each other in the park, leaned over opposite sides of a fucking seesaw, pouring each other's feelings out into the chilly winter air.

"With who?" he furrows his eyebrows and you almost want to laugh at how oblivious he is. You suppose maybe you've been hiding it well - well enough for Eddie to not notice how your touch has always lingered a bit too long on his skin, how your head so easily found home in the crook of his neck, how you began to prioritize meeting up with him over your fellow cheerleaders.

But not well enough for Jason, eagle eyed and jealous, constantly hovering over your interactions with Eddie and deluding himself with the gossip around school that you'd gone further than that.

"You."

It's whispered, heart falling to the bottom of your stomach at the confession now lingering in the open, cold and heavy.

"M-me?" Eddie stutters, clearly taken back. You lick your lips, chapped and dry, your shaky breaths coming out in small whisps of white smoke.

"Yeah. Jason insisted that it was clear that I was cheating on him with you and that we were spending way too much time to be just friends, and he... he called me a lying slut. Straight up. Screamed that I was whore to my face, demanded to know how many times we fucked behind his back."

"W-we never even kissed!"

"Yeah, I know." you chuckle sadly, shaking your head sideways, blinking away new tears which spring to your eyes. "But Jason didn't believe me. I dumped him, left him with the check and... I don't know, didn't feel like going home to an empty house. And I just... all I could think about was how much I wanted to see you."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. So he takes the safe route, nodding sympathetically and flashing you a small grin.

"Well, I'm glad that you did. I hope me dragging you to the playground wasn't the wrong thing to do." he teases, attempting to lighten the heavy mood. It works, soft grin tugging at your face.

"Yeah it definitely wasn't. Coming here was perfect."

The night breeze blows against your bare shoulders and it hits you that you really aren't dressed for the outside. Even if winter is only beginning to slowly roll in, it's still chilly enough to see your breath in front of your eyes in puffs of smoke and you've been sitting still on this seesaw for a while. So Eddie steps off to shrug off his jacket, musky earth tones warming your senses as he places it carefully around your shoulders.

"Thanks." you mutter, fingers grasping the lapels of the fabric.

"Don't mention it." he responds, waving you off.

A few beats of silence pass and then you throw your head back, staring up at the night sky full of stars.

"You know, weirdly though, I'm kind of relieved."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Deep down, I knew it wouldn't last. Too many red flags, you know? I just keep on ignoring them because... I don't know, really. Don't like change."

"I get that."

"God, feelings suck." you chuckle, shaking your head sideways. "Don't they? Pining, infatuation, love."

Eddie hums, nodding along.

"I'm there with you. For example-" he pauses. He's staring the storm right in the eye now, he has to made a decision.

He's tired of running, he decides.

"The girl I've been fawning over for almost a year now has been totally blind to my love for her and I'm exhausted." he makes it a point to stare straight at you with an unwavering intensity. "But she's worth it."

It's a shot in the dark but there's a surge of courage and adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the dark makes him more bold. He blames it on the wind rush, the night high, how beautiful you look in that velvet blue dress.

"She sounds like a very lucky girl." you choke out, mind blanking unexpectedly. Eddie nods and walks up towards you slowly, your throat running dry under the intensity of his stare.

"Yeah, and she's incredible, too. Head cheerleader. Great English Literature tutor. So funny, so kind, so damn beautiful, especially in blue. Great with kids, loved by my uncle, and I just heard-" his left hand comes over to brush up against your cheek. "That she's single. Funny how things work out like this, huh?"

You nod wordlessly, entranced by his warm brown eyes.

"It is."

You stand up cautiously, never once breaking eye contact with him, leaning in closer and closer. Eddie's expecting you to pull away from him in any instant, disgust springing onto your face or apologies falling from your lips, but you remain still. Your lashes fluttering shut is the last sign he needs before he commits to closing the gap and kissing you squarely on your lips, knocking the cold air out from your lungs.

It's a cold night but his skin's on fire, left hand springing up to cup your chin, other hand supporting your neck as he tugs you in even closer. You taste like cherry chapstick and smell like French perfume, velvet fabric brushing up against his arms as he backs you up against a park bench.

It's a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue, but he can't give a fuck. Not when his heart is soaring, fingertips electric, mind hazy at the realization that he is finally kissing his dream girl after a whole year of pining.

"Holy shit." you manage to say when you two pull apart, hair slightly messied and lips wet and plump.

"I hope that's a good holy shit, princess." Eddie teases, the nickname causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies.

"It's a good holy shit. A really good holy shit." you confirm, nodding fiercely. You both laugh at that, warmth blossoming across both your chests.

"W-why didn't you ever say anything?" you stutter out, head still reeling from the passionate kiss.

"I wanted to. God, I wanted to so many times. I knew I was falling for you from the beginning, all these little indicators and signs and the intrusive thoughts. But I kept on ignoring them and by the time I realized I loved you, I knew you were with Jason and you two seemed happy. And I didn't want to be selfish and intrude on your happiness like that."

He tugs you down onto his lap, sitting both your bodies down on the metal bench. Your hands come up to carress his cold cheeks, trembling thumbs rubbing up and down his jawline, eyes admiring the freckles on his nose and the specks of moonlight in his hair.

"Well, no need to ignore those warnings anymore, huh?" you say quietly, voice heavy with adoration.

He just nods, head falling forwards to rest on your chest, hearing your soft heartbeat through velvet fabric.

"Absolutely."

Eddie ignored the tornado warnings.

But in the wreckage, you two found each other, hands desperately grasping each other's in the darkness.

Burrowing his head into the crevice of your neck, he's content to stay with you in the aftermath of the disaster, so long as you continue to grip onto him like this.

a/n: this was based on the song with the same title by Sabrina Carpenter! Please go stream and support her new album, 'emails I can't send', it is fantastic and there are so many other bangers on the album.

Speaking of which, the way that the metaphor of the tornado is used in the song is kinda different from how I used it here but idk, I thought it was a cute concept and the song motivated me to write it haha. Not sure how this fic will be received but I loved writing it :)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #6k #7k #8k

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

Text

Always Will

After a bad game, Claudia takes her frustration out on you. You realize it runs deeper than just one game, and Claudia realizes that she can’t push you away very easily.

Shorter than normal, and probs all you’ll get for a couple more days, but I hope you guys like it anyway ☺️☺️

——-

Claudia sat in the front seat, glaring out the window. Her anger was palpable from where you sat in the drivers seat. You were tempted to break the silence, assure her that she didn't really have that bad of a game, but you knew better. Your drive continued in silence, and you wanted more than anything to reach over to her, and grab her hand, but knew she wouldn't accept the comfort. You'd allow her time to cool down, and then you'd talk to her about it.

What you hadn't considered, though, was that Pina wasn't just frustrated with herself- she was frustrated with you. This was made clear when she bolted out of the car as soon as you pulled in, and slammed the front door shut behind her before you could reach it. You walked in after her, slightly bewildered, as you couldn't think of what you'd done to make her upset.

"Babe? What's wrong?" you ask calmly, watching as the striker practically throws her bag down, stomping into the kitchen.

"What's wrong? Are you being serious?" She asked, whirling around to glare at you.

"Calm down, Clau, and tell me what's bothering you." You work hard to keep your voice even, despite feeling yourself getting annoyed with the other girls' behavior.

"You!" she shouts, and you step back, startled. "It isn't enough that I have the worst fucking game of my life, miss every shot I take, but you have to hover over me afterwards like I'm incapable of handling myself. It was humiliating, y/n, you treated me like a child."

You assume she's referring to when you tried to comfort her after the game. Her frustration had been evident, and you'd just wanted to make sure she was okay. She'd ignored you though, until you pulled her aside in the locker room, and she'd told you she was fine, which you didn't believe. To be honest, what you'd done didn't really warrant this reaction, and you knew that she was just taking her frustration out on you.

"That wasn't my intention. I just wanted to make sure you were okay," you tell her, inching closer when you notice the tears in her eyes.

"Well, I didn't need you to. I'm fine. Now leave me alone, yeah?" she snaps, before marching off into the bedroom, yet again slamming the door behind her.

You sigh, running a hand over your face. Claudia got like this after she didn't play well, but you'd never seen her this upset before. Deciding to give her some space, you head into the kitchen, grabbing a snack, before settling on the couch and flicking on the TV. You'd showered in the locker room, and Claudia had not, so you expect her to do so now.

You tried to lose yourself in the show on, but your thigh ached from where you'd been stepped on. It wasn't a big injury, just a couple cuts and what was sure to be a huge bruise. You're sure Claudia didn't even see it, having gone right into the locker room when she'd been pulled off in the 80th minute. It had happened a couple minutes later, and the physios had thrown a bandage on it before sending you back in. That same bandage was wrapped around your leg now, under your sweats, and you elected to ignore it for the time being.

Claudia hadn't come out of the bedroom, and it had been almost an hour, which you judged to be long enough for her to have cooled down. Standing, you walked to the door and knocked lightly, before pushing it open.

Claudia was sat on the floor, chin resting on her knees. She hadn't showered, and she looked to be completely lost in her thoughts.

"Clau?" you murmur, trying to get her attention. Her head turns towards you, and your lips tug into a frown when you see her flushed cheeks and watery eyes. Deciding to give her a few more minutes of quiet, you walk over to her wordlessly, and hold your hand out. After a second, she grabs it, and you lead her into the bathroom, turning the shower on. You're about to reach out, and pull her top off, but her hands stop you, and she does it herself. Claudia seems intent on showering by herself, but you don't feel particularly like leaving her alone in this state, so you perch on the bathroom counter and pull your phone out as she gets into the shower.

She finishes quickly, sniffling every so often, and you pretend to be engrossed in your phone, when really you're watching her every move. It's unlike your girlfriend to be so quiet, and paired with her earlier behavior, it worries you. She remains silent as she dries off and you follow her out of the bathroom.

This time, though, when she tries to head to the dresser and get clothes out herself, you stop her, and nudge her in the direction of the bed. She frowns but does as you direct, sitting on the edge of the bed in just her towel. You grab comfy clothes from your side of the dresser, walking back over to her. You take your time, gently pulling the shirt and hoodie over her head, as well as a pair of shorts onto her legs.

“Stay here, alright?” You tell the brunette, heading back into the bathroom with her damp towel and return with her hairbrush. She’s right where you left her, staring at the ground. You’re trying to get a good read on her emotions, but her face is blank. The only thing that tells you she’s upset is her shoulders, a slight slump in her usually perfect posture.

You brush through the knots in her hair, and you’re almost done when she reaches out to grab your wrist, bringing your motions to a halt.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asks quietly. You realize the emotion playing across her face is one of guilt.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” You reply, setting the hairbrush down and stepping in closer to rest your hands on her cheeks. She shakes you off though, standing and walking a short distance away from you.

You allow her the space, but turn towards her, waiting for her to explain.

“I was so awful to you, and you’re acting like I haven’t done anything,” she chokes out, and you soften.

“Claudia, don’t worry about it, I’m not mad,” you tell her, because you’re not. She can apologize later, but now, she’s so upset, you don’t care about anything other than making her smile.

“You should be. I was horrible to you in front of the team, and—“

“— and nothing. You were frustrated and embarrassed and I wasn’t helping. You can tell me sorry later, love, but please let me hug you.” You insist, walking towards her. She shakes her head at your words, but you pull her into your arms anyway.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles into your chest. “I don’t know why I acted like that.”

“It’s okay, baby.”

Claudia settles against you, relaxing slightly in your embrace.

“Why were you so upset today? I mean I don’t think you played that bad, Clau.” She scoffs in response. “Seriously, love, everyone has off days.”

“I feel like I only have off days. I haven’t scored in games, amor, I’m letting everyone down,” the striker responds, tears beginning to fall steadily down her cheeks. You realize that this goes deeper than just one bad game, and you curse yourself for not noticing earlier.

“Oh, baby. You’re not letting anyone down. It’s just a slump, you’ll come out of it.” You tell her, placing a kiss onto her head. She just shakes her head in response, though, and you sigh, before pulling her over to the bed. She sits on the edge, and you stand between your legs, guiding her chin up to look at you.

Her eyes are wide, eyelashes wet, as she gazes up at you. You can’t resist kissing the tip of her nose gently. It scrunches adorably and you smile, before you speak.

“You haven’t let anyone down, Claudia. Not me, and not anyone on the team. You have to be patient with yourself. You aren’t going to be perfect all the time, and no one expects you to.”

She looks only slightly reassured. “I just get so into my head. I don’t know what to do, I’m so stressed all the time,” she admits, and you frown down at her.

“Why haven’t you brought this up before?” You ask, because although you knew she was struggling slightly, you didn’t realize she was having an entire crisis of confidence. It explained her moodiness recently, and her outburst today.

“You’re stressed too, amor, I didn’t want to add to that,” Claudia dismisses.

“No, baby what stresses me out is not knowing why you’re so upset. Please, tell me when you’re feeling like this. You’re supposed to lean on me, Claudia, just like I lean on you.”

“Okay,” she mumbles. It isn’t much, but you can see a determination in her eyes that wasn’t there before, a spark. You know she’ll try to open up to you more, even if it’s a slow process.

She leans in, resting her head on your stomach, reaching her arms around you. In the process, her elbow clips your thigh, right over your wound. You let out a hiss, involuntarily jerking back.

“What? What is it?” Claudia asks, eyebrows knitting together as she scans your fully clothed body for injury.

“It’s nothing,” you say, leaning back into the hug. Claudia is insistent though, putting her hands on your legs to stop you. Again, you wince.

“You’re hurt.” She accuses. There’s an unspoken rule between the two of you that you always tell the other when one of you is hurt, which Claudia clearly feels you have broken.

“I’m fine,” you dismiss, but Claudia is already standing, pulling your joggers down your legs, and carefully pulling the bandage off, then dramatically gasping at the sight of your injury. It’s really not that bad, but Claudia is looking at you like you’ve been hiding a gunshot wound.

“Claudia,” you begin.

“No! Now I’m mad!” She says, lips twisting slightly into a smile, and you know she’s only joking. She turns, heading to the closet where you keep the first aid kit.

“I didn’t hide it!” You call after her and she sends you a glare over her shoulder.

“What would you call not telling me you were hurt?”

“Well, if you hadn’t stormed into the locker room before the game ended, or shouted at me when we got home…” you say casually, dodging the box of bandaids she throws at your head, laughing.

“I thought you weren’t mad,” she says, beginning to treat the cuts on your leg. You don’t tell her they’ve already been cleaned, enjoying the gentle way she’s pressing a light kiss to each cut before running the alcohol wipe over it.

“I love you,” you say suddenly. The way her attention has completely flipped, from her own horrible day, to your slight inconvenience, laser focus on making sure you’re okay, makes your heart flutter.

Your girlfriend looks up at you, a small grin on her face. “I love you too, amor.”

Claudia wraps a new bandage around your leg, before heading off to get some ice for it. When she returns, she finds you tucked under the covers already. She puts the ice pack on your leg, before settling into your side.

“Thanks for making me feel better, even when I wasn’t very nice.”

“Always, love. Always.”

She presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, before resting her face in the crook of your neck. You hold her tight, like you always will.

——-

Lord I hate writing on my phone. Also I think this ending sucks. But! Hope you enjoy anyway :)

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader

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lethalchiralium · 9 months

Text

Glass Houses | Miguel O’Hara x Wife!Reader

a/n: look, i’m not ignoring anything (i am) i just couldn’t get this out of my head haha

warnings: fluff and angst 🫶

summary: It’s finally time for Gabi’s quinceañera, something Miguel had finally allowed her to have.

MASTERLIST

Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi was having the best night of her young life.

Picture after picture, her pearly white smile was as bright as daylight. Her friends surrounded her, her uncles and aunts from both parents celebrated her quinceañera. It was the night she had been looking forward to, the night she had been begging you and her father for.

“Gabi,” He shook his head, his grip on the steering wheel was tight. “I told you we’ll think about it.”

“Papa, every girl I know gets a quince-“

“Gabi, lo digo en serio-“ Your hand settled on Miguel’s thigh gently, he took in a breath, growing frustrated with traffic and with himself. He spared a glance to you, your eyes on the road, but that still didn’t stop you from looking to him. “Mi vida, help me here.”

Your fingertips tapped his thigh, you turned to look over your shoulder at your darling daughter, still wiping off mud from that day’s practice. You glanced to Miguel as his hand slid down to settle on top of yours, fingers curled around your palm. Your husband has always trusted your judgement.

You squeezed his thigh before you responded, “Baby, Papa’s already doing so much for us. You need to give him time to get it worked out, it’s not a yes or no until he says so.”

The fourteen year old’s expression dropped, her body slumped into her seat. You frowned. “Why does he get to pick all of the sudden? You always set the rules, Mama-“

“Cuida tu tono con tu madre, Gabi.” His tone was calm, you could feel the bite of his words and watch how Gabi looked out the window in response. You deflated a little, you didn’t want to tell your perfect daughter that what little money you and Miguel had was running out. “Siempre escuchamos a mamá.” You squeezed Miguel’s thigh again, your eyes moved to gaze at the side profile you had memorized years ago.

“Mama, por favor,” You looked back to Gabi, your heart strings were tugged hard when you looked at her saddened expression.

A sigh escaped you before you turned forwards, the traffic now flowing much better. “Papa and I will talk about it.”

You watched your baby and her friends, all of them chatting away and laughing like hyenas. She was gorgeous, she looked truly happy; she spared a glance towards you, her smile so contagious that it made yours even wider. She was the spitting image of her father, just without the fangs. She waved a little, you waved back.

“We don’t have the money for it.” You whispered, arms tucked in between you and Miguel’s chest, fingertips gently tapping on his warm skin just below his collarbone. Your eyes could only watch your red fingernails as they drummed an unfamiliar melody into your husband’s skin.

He was watching you, it wasn’t hard for you to tell. His hand settled on your hip, the arm around your back gently stroked your shoulder blades with light fingertips.

“I’ll pick up more hours at Alchemax.”

“The mortgage is too much, Mig. I can get my job back-“

“No. Your back is still injured from the accident.” The car accident you had three months ago, where you were slammed into and your car thrown off the bridge by the momentum, only to be saved by Spider-Man. It was terrifying, he took you right down to the hospital without a word before he left you on a gurney; your husband appeared only moments later as the medical team took you inside, his breathing panicked as he took your hand, he was terrified. That look was one you could never get out of your head, even as you stared at his rising chest. “It will only be for a couple of months. It’s important for Gabi.”

“It’s important for Gabi.” You echoed, your nail caught on the small silver chain around his neck, the small locket glimmered in the low light.

Miguel is a generous man, and a man who truly adored his daughter.

Your daughter pranced over to your table, her smile much larger than you had even seen her make. You held out your hands, she instantly took them. “Mi niña, is it okay? Are you having fun?”

“It’s perfect, Mama.” Her arms were around your neck in an instant, a kiss from her on your head made your smile rival hers. She moved away, her pretty curls bouncing as her friends welcomed her back with huge smiles and infectious laughter.

You looked over to Miguel’s empty seat, heart sinking into your stomach. Being Spider-Man has made him lose so much important time with his family, but you understood why he put on the suit. You understood why when he told you that rainy night, you finally understood that you weren’t just a lucky survivor of small villain incident, he was always watching over you - even when he couldn’t be here for Gabi’s quinceañera.

You took a drink of your wine, hoping to put a damper on your growing sadness. You watched her Uncle Gabriel help take the beautiful white chair out to the middle of the dance floor, soft rose colored balloons tied to it and beautiful pink flowers wrapped around the back. Gabi was so excited, her gaze went back to you as she mouthed, “Love you.”

You blew her a kiss as the dance floor cleared, allowing her to sit down in the chair with her beautiful dress - her beautiful face bright with a smile. Your grip on your wine glass loosened as her Uncle Gabriel started the Changing of the Shoes ceremony - your own eyes felt pricks of pain as you fought back tears. You were only twenty feet away, your phone now in your hand was you took the video of the ceremony. She was laughing, happy - her flats being removed and replaced with the rose gold heels she had begged Miguel to buy months prior, but he had refused. And here they were, now placed on your daughter’s feet as her transition into becoming a young woman.

Tears of joy feel from your eyes as she stood, her smile still so large and the chair taken away. The song changed, your smile faltered.

“Gabi,” Miguel called. Your hand held his, his thumb gently raked over your index finger. He had spent many long nights, saving what money he could and taking odd jobs, all in between his duty as Spider-Man. His heart was warm, he had asked many favors with promises of repayment to set up his wonderful daughter’s quinceañera - more money than he wanted to pay, if at all, but he loved his child eternally. This was her one big wish for years, he had always said no since money was an issue. Even as a highly paid geneticist, his money was being drained by hospital bills, his mortgage, and his ailment of constantly needing venom to stay alive. But, giving her this meant she was growing up, and he was finally ready to help her out of her flats and into those high heels he knew were her favorite, then waltz around a big dance floor with his little girl who would be happier than ever.

She bounded down the staircase, hair a mess from practice as she tore off her headband, she smiled, “¿Qué pasa?” She was quick to sit on the floor in front of the couch, where you and Miguel were comfortably sitting. Your smile has always been gorgeous to Miguel, but in that moment, your smile infected him like a virus. You were so excited to see Gabi grow up, so excited to give her what she wanted.

Gabi was sobbing by the time Miguel had told her about the party, she hugged him so tight before kissing his cheek, then diving into you. You wrapped your arms around her with that beautiful smile on your face, moving your daughter back and forth with excitement.

That moment was a direct contrast to what he had confessed to you in private later that night, after he had finally found the courage to tell you his deepest secret. The look of horror on your face made Miguel’s stomach drop, the tears made him nauseous.

“You’re Spider-Man?”

He nodded for the second time, hand still holding yours. You didn’t remove it, your free hand came to cover your mouth.

“I wanted you to know. The ‘odd jobs’ I’ve been doing have been me being Spider-Man, people give me money to keep it up.” He whispered, terror in his heart as you just… stared.

“What will happen if I lose you?”

Miguel could only smile, his free hand came up to your cheek, resting upon it as he whispered, “Nunca me perderás, querida.”

Pastel pink dress with flowers in her hair, Gabi stood in the middle of the dance floor, ready for her last dance of the night before her 15 Candle Ceremony. It was her father’s idea to have the dance near the end of the ceremony, he was never one to want too much attention. The girl stood in the middle of the floor, eyes watching her father’s smile come closer and closer to her.

The crystal-like tears hit her beautiful dress, her manicured hands grasped onto the dark mahogany of the frame that displayed the photo of her smiling deceased father, Miguel O’Hara.

#lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #astv miguel #miguel 2099 #spider man 2099 #miguel o’hara x f!reader #miguel o’hara x wife!reader #gabriella o’hara

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corroded-hellfire · 2 months

Text

Scout's Honor - Eddie Munson x Reader

Collaboration with my dearest @munson-blurbs

An As You Wish story

Summary: The annual Father-Daughter Girl Scout Square Dance comes around but Eddie and Steve are saddled with some car trouble.

Note: Everyone needs to go thank Bug for this incredibly adorable idea!

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Men.

Can’t live with them, can’t…convince them not to go fishing on the day of their daughters’ Girl Scouts events.

Eddie and Steve had promised you and Nancy that they would be home in time to take Eliza and Mia to the annual square dance.

“We’ll get an early start,” they’d said, ignoring Eliza’s insistence that she won’t go with her father if he reeks of fish. He’d just laughed, kissed her cheek, and reiterated that he would shower before the dance.

Maybe you’re naive for believing him. And yet, when the phone rang and Eddie’s sheepish voice explains that Steve’s car broke down—codeword for ‘we ran out of gas’—you’re wholly unsurprised.

“I always made fun of Wayne for fishing.” Eddie muses, the payphone crackling as he exhales. “Called it an old man activity. This is what I get.”

You grit your teeth, hand clenched in a fist. “Just…get home,” you hiss, hanging up the receiver and massaging your temples.

Who could have ever foreseen such an outcome?

While you’re stewing over the men’s incompetence, Mia remains levelheaded—just like her mother—and proposes a solution. “What if Luke and Ryan take us?”

Her suggestion is almost certainly rooted in her crush on your younger son, but it proves to be a worthwhile idea, nonetheless. Eliza’s face lights up, and before you know it, your five-year-old is dragging her brothers from their room.

“Please?” She pouts sweetly, batting her doe eyes up at them. “Daddy and Uncle Steve can’t make it, and we can’t go all alone.” She lays it on thick, knowing full well she doesn’t have to—the boys would do just about anything for her.

Ryan and Luke raid Eddie’s dresser drawers for flannels, finding the ones that he had nabbed from Wayne’s trailer. The girls don cowgirl hats, excitedly giggling as they climb into the back of the minivan. It’s still strange for you to see Ryan behind the wheel, but your heart swells with pride as you watch him double-check Eliza’s booster seat before pulling out of the driveway.

At seventeen years old, Eddie Munson spent his Saturday nights selling cheap weed at high school parties—many of them, ironically, thrown by “King” Steve Harrington.

At seventeen years old, Ryan Munson is spending his Saturday night taking his little sister and her best friend to the Girl Scouts square dance.

“Everyone buckled?” He calls back, already knowing that they are. Still, he waits until he receives a chorus of yeses before he drives off.

Luke turns around from the passenger seat. “Now, do we have to make a perfect square?” He keeps a serious expression, much to Ryan’s amusement. “Like, what if it’s a bit oval-y? Do we get kicked out? Do you two get banished from the Girl Scouts?”

Eliza and Mia are both used to his nonsense, and they burst into a fit of giggles. Ryan cracks a smile of his own, eyes trained on the road.

Precious cargo and all that.

When they arrive at the old VFW hall, the girls immediately pull them over to their group of friends. It’s a sea of young girls and their dads—and some moms—but nary a big brother in sight except for the two Munson boys.

Ryan barely has time to feel out of place. The emcee, a middle-aged woman with bright pink lipstick and a too-wide smile, grabs the mic.

“Welcome to our Father-Daughter Square Dance!” The room erupts into applause, quieting down only to hear about how this fundraiser supports the Girl Scouts of Indiana. The scouts repeat their pledge, which is met with more cheers, and then a western tune bleats over the old sound system.

Eliza grabs Ryan’s hand as the emcee calls out instructions. Mia is a bit shyer with Luke, but they still manage all of the steps without stomping on the other’s toes.

“Liza, I’m sorry Dad couldn’t make it,” Ryan says between songs.

Eliza gives him a small smile. “That’s okay. It’s kinda cooler to bring my big brother.”

He grins. Just wait until his dad hears that.

As everyone is getting into position for the next dance, a new song comes on that has more banjo than Luke has ever heard in his life.

“Oh, yeah. We’re definitely in Indiana,” he says.

Mia chuckles as she peeks up at Luke from beneath the brim of her straw cowgirl hat. A blue ribbon on one of her red pigtail braids is loose so Luke reaches down to fix it for the little girl. Mia’s freckled face blooms as red as her hair. Luke pretends not to notice, not wanting to embarrass her. The big crush on Luke became obvious when she was three, and now at ten, it’s still hanging around. The fifteen-year-old Munson boy thinks it’s flattering and only ever teases her if she starts it first.

“Ready?” Luke asks, offering Mia his hand.

“Ready!”

“But I didn't realize any of this until I was standing alone. In a barn... wife-less. Now, you can imagine my disappointment when it suddenly dawned on me that the woman I love is about to be kicked out of the country. So, Margaret. Marry me. Because I'd like to date you.”

Both you and Nancy hold your wine glasses, neither moving a muscle as you watch Ryan Reynolds catch up to Sandra Bullock in a New York City office building. An empty pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream sits between you on the couch, two green-smudged silver spoons resting inside.

With the men out fishing, Ryan and Luke out with the two girls, and Natalie watching the rest of the kids over at the Harrington house, your place became the ultimate Mom’s Night In for you and Nancy. A chance to drink a little, gossip a little, have some snacks and watch some romcoms.

Your peace has finally come to an end, however, when the front door bursts open and two men who reek of murky water, bug spray, and gasoline come barging in.

“Jesus, Steve,” Nancy says, face pinching up at the foul odor wafting from your husbands.

You wave a hand in front of your face as if that will make the smell dissipate any faster.

“How were the fish?” you ask, turning your head away to give your nostrils a fighting chance.

“We caught a grand total of zero,” Steve says with a sigh, his black fishing boots looking comically misplaced on him. Neither of the men look natural in fishing gear. But when a guy from work offered Eddie the use of his boat for the day, he found he couldn’t turn it down.

“Did you bring the fishing poles?” Nancy asks, sarcasm lining the amusement on her face.

Both men give her an annoyed side eye before Eddie looks around and takes a step towards you.

“Where are the girls?” he asks.

“Ryan and Luke took them to the dance,” you tell him. “They should be back soon.”

Steve grimaces and claps a heavy hand down on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Eliza’s gonna kill you.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows and spins to meet his friend’s eye.

“And Mia won’t kill you?”

Steve grins. “Not if she got to dance with Luke.” This is the only time the man has ever been thankful for Mia’s crush on the Munson teen.

Front door still open from when the men barged in, Ryan, Luke, Eliza, and Mia walk inside, laughing and talking over one another. Ryan is giving Eliza a piggyback ride and Luke has Mia’s too-small cowgirl hat perched on top of his head. The moment Eliza’s wide brown eyes spot her father, she demands answers.

“Daddy, where were you?”

Ryan gently lets her down and she stomps over in her beige cowgirl boots, stopping right in front of Eddie.

“Liza, I’m so sorry,” Eddie pleads. “Our car broke down. We tried everything we could to get back in time—”

Tears build up in Eliza’s eyes and Eddie feels his heart constrict in his chest. It might as well be Eliza’s little fist squeezing it.

“You were s’post to go with me!”

Eddie sighs and runs a ringed, smelly hand over his face. “I know. And I promise I’ll go next time. But I’m glad you got to bring your brothers.

“Did you have fun at least?” Steve asks from behind him.

Mia nods emphatically and both you and Nancy have to bite your lips to keep from smiling.

Eliza nods in agreement, although not as enthusiastically as her friend. “Yeah. And Ryan is a good dancer.”

Luke smirks, and if Eddie were looking at him, he’d see the devious glint in his eye. “Not as good as Dad, I’m sure.”

Loud snickers come from you, Nancy, and Steve. Eddie’s jaw drops open as he looks around the room.

“I can dance!”

“Yeah, Dad?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah!”

“Lucky for you, we’re all right here to witness it,” Luke says with a shrug.

Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “There’s no music. And I don’t really think my Metallica is easy to groove to.”

“We’ve got my Billy Joel—” you start.

“Or my *NSYNC!” Mia adds.

“No,” Eddie says. “Thank you girls, but no.”

Smirk only growing larger, Luke pats his father on the shoulder. “Lucky for you, we’ve got just what you need.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow as he watches his son take a CD out of a Target bag he was conveniently hiding behind his back.

“How was fishing, by the way?” Luke asks as he wrestles with the plastic engulfing the case.

“Pointless,” Steve says.

“Your uncle didn’t bring enough bait,” Eddie added. Steve is about to refute but Luke speaks before he gets the chance.

“But you would have, Dad? Does that make you a master baiter?”

Ryan is the only one who is unable to contain his laughter. The joke goes over the girls’ heads, but you give your son a soft glare anyway. Never mind that you found it hilarious, just as you know the other adults did as well, but sometimes you’ve got to be the parent.

Luke shrugs it off and pops the finally-freed CD into the stereo and the sound of a bow sawing over fiddle strings fills the room. Your second-oldest nods his head to Eliza.

“Go ahead, Lize. Show the old man how it’s done.”

“There’s not enough room to square dance in here,” Eddie says.

Without even so much as glancing at one another, you and Nancy get off of the couch and push it back, making plenty more space in the living room. The two of you smirk at one another and Nancy crosses her arms over her chest.

“Y’know, I don’t think it’s fair that you guys get to reap the benefits of your daughters being Girl Scouts without putting in the work.”

A grin grows on your face as you see where Nancy is going with this.

“Yeah,” you agree, “maybe you don’t need more Samoas this year.”

Eddie’s face falls, and he looks at Steve, who shrugs in defeat. Gotta hit the guys where it hurts: food.

“All right, show us the moves,” Steve says.

Mia grins, a bounce in her step as she takes Eliza’s smaller hand and walks to the middle of the floor. “Okay, me and Liza will be partners. Just watch us.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows and looks between the two girls, one with now-messy twin red braids, and the other with a light brown cowgirl hat atop two curly pigtails.

“Wait, if you two are dancing together, who are Eddie and I dancing with?” he asks.

Eliza giggles. “Each other.”

“Nope,” Eddie replies. “No way.”

With an over dramatic sigh, you shrug your shoulders at your husband. “No dancing, no Samoas.”

“Damn those little coconut fuckers,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. “All right, big boy. But I get to be the guy.”

“Sure, we’ll play pretend,” Steve quips back. It’ll be a miracle if they both make it through the first dance alive.

Eliza and Mia begin to go through the motions, showing their fathers what to do. Everyone is laughing as they do-si-do and hook arms to swing each other around.

“Did I earn my cookies yet?” Eddie asks once the next song ends.

“That’s up to your daughter,” you tell him with a shrug.

Eddie looks at Eliza expectantly, the big puppy dog eyes that he passed down to her working their magic.

“Almost, Daddy. You gotta dance with me first.”

“Now that, I can do.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS

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barcaatthemoon · 4 days

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home for christmas || claudia pina x reader ||

you bring claudia home with you to norway for christmas.

claudia would never admit it, but you could tell from the grip she had on her hand that she was. the two of you had spent a season and a half in spain together, and this holiday break, you were excited to finally be going back home for christmas. the vacations spent partying at various resorts were nice, but you wanted something a little quieter and more wholesome.

"tu bien?" your spanish had never been good, and so, for the most part you refused to use it. now, though, you knew that claudia needed what little you had. she glanced over at you, obviously a little thrown off by the spanish. claudia's norweigan was nonexistent, so you had gotten your family to agree to english for the weekend you'd be staying with them.

"just nervous," claudia answered. her english was getting much better thanks to now fully living with you. your ability to speak spanish was atrocious, despite being able to keep up with what most people were saying. there were always exceptions, especially whenever someone threw in the a catalonian phrase. aitana and alexia were the worst about it, ona only really doing it to get on your nerves.

"you'll be fine, my parents will love you more than me by the end of the weekend," you told her. claudia doubted it, but she liked knowing that she had your vote of confidence. it didn't matter that claudia felt like she'd mess things up if she knew that she had your vote of confidence.

"right. i am a good girlfriend to you. we love each other very much, and even if they don't like me, they'll see that," claudia reasoned. you were glad to see her thinking rationally. it was amazing sometimes how sound of mind your girlfriend could be whenever she was away from the rest of her chaotic friend group.

…

meeting your parents had gone over extremely well for claudia. she knew that she was nothing like your exes, and that seemed to work well in her favor. your parents approved of the relationship a lot more than they had of your ones in the past. your father had openly told claudia this, and she had been almost insufferable for the rest of the night.

"are you sure that you don't want to stay a couple more days here? i mean, your parents did make up that room for us. it seems a bit like a waste," claudia said. you pinched the bridge of your nose as you got in the car with her. she shifted uncomfortably in the passenger's seat, thrown from her element since you weren't letting her drive you around.

"claudia, i love my parents, but i'd like to, at some point, have some privacy. they were well behaved because you were around, but once they get comfortable, it's all over," you warned her. claudia frowned a little, but understood.

family was very important to the both of you, and claudia had genuinely just wanted to spend some more time with yours. you were all for family time, but a lot of the things you wanted to do on this trip were just for you and claudia. you knew that she had been to a few ski resorts, but she hadn't gotten a good, proper, christmas experience in your books.

the drive to your little rental isn't too far from your parents' place. it's already decorated for christmas, and while it is nice, it feels less like home than where you had just come from. it's very organized, like how claudia had decorated her apartment as a compromise to you the year before.

"this is nice," claudia said as she walked around the little living room. the small house was nice, reminding you of the one you had went to look at in spain. your contract was up soon, and you were hoping to resign with barcelona. claudia was staying, promising you that she had absolutely no intentions of going anywhere else, and that she'd love for the two of you to get a place together whenever you resigned.

"i have a present for you," you said as you wrapped your arms around claudia's waist. she leaned into your embrace, allowing for you to kiss the side of her face several times. reluctantly, you pulled away to get the bag with the coat that you had asked your father to pick up whenever all of you had gone out to the big market.

"it's not christmas yet." claudia looked a little skeptical at the gift bag. you knew exactly what she wanted to be in the bag, and it definitely wasn't it. however, you weren't going to let your girlfriend run around looking like a tourist, nor would you let her stand there freezing because she wasn't properly bundled up.

"well, this is just to make our day trips easier on you," you told her. claudia cracked a small smile at the way you just constantly thought of her like that. you were definitely the caretaker in the relationship, always trying to make sure that claudia was safe, comfortable, and happy. "it looks thin, but i promise that it will keep you warm."

"you got me a coat in blaugrana?" claudia gripped the coat tightly in her hands as she held it up in front of her. you may have ordered the coat early, long before claudia had actually agreed to come with you. claudia smiled as she looked over the coat to take in the little details. you had gotten her number on the side, a little touch that you knew meant the world to her.

"it was supposed to come before we got here, but you have it now," you said nervously. you were twiddling your thumbs behind your back when claudia launched herself into your arms. you caught her, smiling and laughing as she tackled you back onto the couch. the two of you rolled onto the floor, lips connected in a deep kiss.

"i love it."

…

claudia couldn't believe that for the first time, she could go outside without being cold. the two of you had been out at the christmas market for nearly an hour already. you wanted to buy some things, but there were things to do first. claudia smiled as the two of you walked around, not complaining once as you continuously got distracted by different booths.

"thank god there's no line," you sighed in relief as you saw the rink. claudia's eyes followed yours, a slightly nervous look on her face as you tugged her toward the ice rink. "come on, we should take advantage of this, it won't be this empty for long."

"are you sure it's a good idea? i can't skate, and if i get injured, the others would probably kill you," claudia said.

"don't worry, i'll be right here the whole time holding your hand. i won't let you fall," you promised her. claudia hated that her trust in you dissolved any of the protests that had been building up inside of her.

once you both had your skates on, claudia took your hand and led you onto the ice. you moved slowly, allowing claudia to get a feel for it. she didn't really ever get too comfortable, so you only had her do a couple of laps. she took her skates back and sat on the side, content to watch you do your thing.

it was a little known fact, but you hadn't started out playing soccer. that had always been a bit of a side thing, even as you had gotten your youth team callups for your country. your first love had been figure skating, but there had always been someone better than you. it had destroyed you to always feel like you were second best, and so, your parents had steered you towards soccer, which had boosted your confidence as you grew into your teenage years.

being on the ice again after so long felt freeing. you danced along to the music, unaware of the way claudia watched you. she hadn't gotten to see you so unapologetically invested in something ever. you were completely lost in yourself, and claudia felt like she was falling even further in love with you. it should have scared her, but she had been feeling this way throughout the entire trip.

it was nearly an hour later whenever you finally got off of the ice. you'd be feeling it later, but for the time being, you were still buzzing. claudia seemed a little bit more clingy than normal as the two of you did a bit of shopping, but you didn't mind it. you loved it whenever claudia would hold onto your hand and lean into your side, randomly pressing little kisses to your cheek or jaw.

"wait! we have to get hot chocolate!" claudia chuckled as she watched you run off towards another booth. the two of you had spent most of your day out and about in town, and now both of you were more than ready to go home. claudia knew that you hated being out of the house for so long like this, so she was a bit surprised when you ended up being the one to make constant stops on the way out.

"why did you only get one cup?" claudia asked as you returned. you opened up the little mouth spot on the top and took a sip of it.

"because we're sharing it," you told her. claudia took the offered drink, eyes widening a bit in surprise. this wasn't her first time having hot chocolate, but this tasted different. "i used to get it every single year from the same booth because it's simply the best i've ever had."

"i want my own," claudia told you.

"tomorrow, we'll come back, i promise." you pressed a kiss to the top of her head as you dragged her towards the car. the two of you made your way out, not stopping anywhere else. you took a couple more drinks from the hot chocolate before you just gave the rest to claudia, who sipped on it happily from the passenger's seat.

"any more plans for the day?" claudia asked you.

"the christmas programs start soon, so we'll probably watch those and drink some wine. i'll warm up the leftovers my mom gave us for dinner, and then i say that we call it a night," you told her. claudia liked the sound of that, humming in approval as she shifted in her seat slightly. "all of this running around has made me very cuddle deprived, so you'll have to fix that."

"are you deprived of anything else?" claudia asked as she placed her hand on your thigh. the two of you shared a knowing look, one that claudia assumed meant she'd be getting lucky as soon as the two of you got back to the rental. however, much to her dismay, you did make her sit through all of the christmas specials that played that night before you even let her have more than a couple of very quick kisses.

#claudia pina imagine #claudia pina x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine

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cambrinkisbae · 16 days

Text

*•♡never be like you ♡¸.•*'

nika muhl x cheerleader!reader

"I wanna hold the hand inside you. I wanna take the breath that's true"

word count - 3.4k

themes :

-fluff

-comfort

-toxic rls

warnings :

-arguing

-mentions to abuse

-explicit language

-iowa winning

A/N - did I get you guys. y'all really thought I would wait any longer to post this....

"can we please not do this ash."

i practically pleaded for my boyfriend to not argue with me before a big performance.

it was the day I had been waiting for since I was ever even notified that there would be a uconn game against iowa. I couldn't be dealing with relationship issues right before.

i attempted slipping on my skirt in the bathroom while my boyfriends voice was ringing in my ear no matter how much I tried to ignore it. I hate arguments. especially when they are stupid and have no point in even happening.

"no we are doing this now I don't care! you need to tell me the truth before you leave." Asher growled from outside the bathroom door. part of me wanted to swing the door open and break his nose but I knew that I didn't have time for that. so I gently but swiftly opened the door and forced my eyes into his with probably the most 'i'm not fucking around right now' look I'd ever given him. which is shocking with all of the arguments we've gotten into.

"Asher just fucking stop! I wasn't anywhere, I was literally sitting on the bench waiting for katie to pick me up! why is that so hard for you to comprehend." I pull my face away from his and before I could close the door and continue getting ready I whisper under my breath "its like you want me to cheat on you." the door was about to latch onto the door frame when his pale and veiny hand gripped onto the wooden edge. "what the fuck did you just say?" shit.

he then swung the door open with a force I've never seen before and a wave of fear flushed through my head. there were already tears welling up in my eyes from the yelling and now this just made them fall down my face. inside I was screaming incoherently at his face, slamming the door on his fingers and bashing his head around the room.

this has happened too many times. where we argue and I end up bruised or crying and I have to walk to Natalie's place and cry even more but into her arms instead. there's been too many times where Asher gets away with shit that no other man could get away with. and too many fucking times have I stayed.

his hand was peeled away from the edge of the door and I swear there was hot lava falling out from his eyes instead of guilt tripping tears. "why do you do this to me y/n? it hurts." he dramatically let his hand fall into his palms as more tears fell from his clearly angered eyes. most times I would let myself feel guilty and sorry for him as if I was the one that did the hurting. but this time I was done. nothing was officially over but the moment definitely was. he's going to have to find a way to win my attention back this time.

i tightened my pony tail and grabbed my cheer bag before walking out of our apartment, slamming the door behind me. it was so early in the morning that the sun was only rising as I walked out the door. I'm almost positive that everyone else on the team was asleep so I had to walk to practice. I was only a couple steps into my long walk when a car pulled up in front of me. well not in front but beside me. I continued walking until a window was rolled down and I heard a familiar voice call out.

"yo are you good?"

i was not. I had tears streaming down my face and I probably looked like I was just thrown in a pit of piranhas, but I cant say that.

"huh?" I turn my head to the side to see a white BMW pulled over. the voice I had heard earlier had a very memorable accent in it. Nika Muhl. 5'10 point guard. pretty hair. pretty eyes. just pretty.

"are you okay?" another voice reached out from the drivers seat of the car. Paige Bueckers of course. I finally looked down from my own height and saw a the brunette looking up at me with kinda eyes. her head was slightly tilted to the side while she waited for me to answer her question. "oh. uh." I waited a moment.

just before this I was telling myself that I wasn't going to put up with asher's bullshit anymore. that included hiding what was going on. Asher put me through shit. I mean he curb stomped my head on a pile of shit and dragged my face through it with his bare hands and never felt any regret.

"n-no not really." yeah I did that. fuck you Asher. the feeling of just admitting that I wasn't made the rest of my tears started to drain back into my eye sockets. I could see it in Nika's eyes that she felt bad even if she was smiling and laughing. she popped open the car door and tapped her lap. "well c'mon." she swayed her head, gesturing for me to literally crawl over her lap and get into the backseat, as there isn't a back door. I didn't want to be rude so I sighed and crawling over Nika's lap and into the backseat. I was hovering over her long enough to smell the beachy sunscreen smelling perfume she had on. her hands grazed my thigh that was exposed after my skirt had started to hang down from my position. thank God the cheer uniforms had shorts under the skirts because when I was almost in the back seat next to Ice Brady and KK Arnold, my skirt lifted up right in Nika's face. I almost fell face first into the backseat before I felt Nika's hands grip onto my waist to support me until I was sitting down. I let out a sharp and quick sigh while fixing my hair and and un-ruffling my skirt, I looked into the driver seat to see Paige holding back tears of laughter. I could practically see how red Nika was from the back of the head rest she had her hair pressed against.

i didn't expect the car ride to be as comforting as it was. the entire drive was basically just the girls either singing or asking me questions about cheer. it was all fine before Nika decided to speak up about why I was sobbing on the sidewalk.

"so what was going on with you earlier? before we very obviously saved your ass." I couldn't help but laugh at her remark but quickly got more serious when Paige turned down the music so everyone could hear me. I felt like I was put on a stage with a microphone in a pretty pink dress waiting to win Miss America with everyone's eyes on me while they waited for me to answer.

"oh it was nothing just stuff about my boyfriend...." I tried to shake off the question even though a part of me wanted to scream how much I hated him. I trailed off and glanced to the side to find an unconvinced KK staring at me. KK is funny, I always see her jumping around after a win and shes always filled with energy.

I shrugged and threw my head back before actually giving in. "fine. he's like, really shitty honestly. I want to break up but I can't." the car was silent for a couple seconds while I patiently waited for someone to speak. "what way of shitty? like wants to break up constantly but wont or like- another way of shitty" Paige asked without making any eye contact.

another way for sure. every other way that you could think of Paige.

"guilt tripping manipulative way I guess?" I said, my voice slightly cracking. Nika clicked her tongue as she reached around her seat and looked back at you. "you know you don't have to stay. I know its hard to not stay but you aren't obligated to stay." thank you. that the only thing I was needing to hear in the past year I had been with Asher. I know I'm not obligated to stay with him but Jesus it feels like it. "thanks." the car ride was silent for a couple more minutes before Paige pulled into the driveway of my cheer practice building.

I was just about to get out of the car before realizing that ice was in front of the door I should've been getting out of. I had to crawl over Nika's lap again. I tossed my duffel bag into her lap and its like she could read my brain when she opened her door and gently set the bag out side. but this time she put down her car seat so that there was a (mainly) flat surface for me to crawl over. instead of crawling, I lifted my feet over Nika's body first and then slid myself over her. my ass gently bumps against her lap, almost sending a loud gasp from my lips. there her hands were again. I thought everything was going by quickly but she still had enough time to wrap her fingers around my waist and lifted me from the back seat out the door.

it was honestly hard for me to speak after having to be that close to a practical stranger in the span of 20 minutes but I tried my best.

"thank you guys for the ride. good luck on your game!" as I was waving goodbye while walking down the sidewalk towards the door of the building, Nika yelled out.

"y/n? I'll see you there right?"

oh my fuck she wants to see me at the game. she actually WANTS me to be there.

all I could manage to do without folding over and passing out of the concrete was throw a thumbs up from behind me and continue walking. the moment I stepped or slid out of that car, all the thoughts came back, rushing through my head. how the fuck was I supposed to focus on cheer when my relationship was on the brink of ending. I felt tears well up in my eyes just thinking about it. obviously I wanted things to end but its been a year and a couple months. I don't know how I was going to just break up and be fine. when I swung open the doors to my cheer studio I saw coach and couple other girls sitting down, tying their shoes and fixing each other's hair. coach waved at me once I got through the door. I made my way over to the other girls and gave them each a hug with a very fake warm smile plastered on my face.

"hiii, are you okay you look like you've been crying?" Taylor spoke in a soft, caring mom kind of tone. why is everybody so worried about if I was crying or not. its not that big of a deal just let me cry. I nodded aggressively "mhm. yeah I'm good." the two girls, Taylor and Caydence, looked at each other and they obviously could see through me. I held back even more tears when they shrugged their shoulder continued talking, I knew they didn't believe me but they didn't push an answer out of me like Nika and Paige.

a part of me has always been interested in basketball but the other part kept telling me that I was talented enough or masculine enough. Nika was always an inspiration to me even before I started cheering for UConn. sometimes after practice, as long as there is no performances and I'm not being held back by my coach, I like to go to the public gym and practice basketball by myself. every time I do, I always wish that there was someone there to practice with me. that is part of the reason I went on to cheer for UConn basketball.

i was still stretching when some more girls off the team walked through the door. makeup done, lashes curled ready to go. I still sat in the corner with a couple mascara streaks running down my face. sadly, there weren't any wipes anywhere in the studio so I had to sit with dried cracky mascara on my face instead of my lashes. I stood up after stretching and actually set my bag and water bottle down at some benches before going up to my best friend, Farah, and squeezing her tightly. she had just walked through the door holding a bag with her cheer supplies and another that had a bow tied around it. it wasn't too big but definitely noticeable. my eyes were immediately drawn to it but I waited for her to bring it up after we finished hugging.

"don't act like you aren't wondering what's in here." she shook the yellow back in front of me, letting me take it out of her hands. I scrimmaged through it and found a piece of paper in the bottom. it looked blank until I flipped it over.

mother fucking Farah.

"YOU GOT ME TICKETS TO OLIVIA RODRIGO? WHAT THE FUCK?" I squealed loud enough for the entire team and coach to hear. all eyes were on me but I didn't care. there was literally no reason for Farah to do this at all. shes just a really fucking nice person. she bent over, holding her stomach with laughter pouring out of her mouth. I felt all sorts of feelings rushing through me. confusion, happiness, more confusion, a little bit of sadness because there was only one ticket at the bottom of the bag.

that when everything died down. I realized that she only got one? no way.

"wait did you-" I began to question but Farah stopped me by shoving her finger over my lips.

"nope." she pulled out her hand from her bag and there were two other tickets. why two? why two. two. fuck.

"for Asher!" she held onto my wrists more excited than she was walking inside of the studio. that giddy smile on her face fell quickly. there is no way I'm bringing Asher with to a concert that he wouldn't even give a shit about. all he'd care about is getting in my pants afterwards because my feet will hurt too much to walk away and say no. I pulled myself towards Farah's ear and whispered softly "Asher cannot come with. I'm planning on breaking up with him."

Farah's eyes widened once I pulled my mouth away from her ear. all she did was nod and dropped my hands back to my side. we walked over to the bench and continued waiting for the rest of the team to show up.

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practice went smooth. now its about to start. UConn and Iowa. fuck I'm nervous. I've been a UConn fan for years and this game is one of the things I've always wanted to see in person. they start introducing players while the cheer squad was doing our main routine to the rhythm of a random Taylor swift song. I think it's I knew you were trouble. ironic. the one thing I was not allowed myself to think of was Asher. if I wanted to think about him I would just trick myself into thinking about Nika. wait that came out wrong. anyways. I was just let down on the floor after doing a thigh stand and the team continued dancing until it was finally tip off. I scurried off the court with the rest of my team and sat to the side while a couple girls above me kept moving around with pom poms. we got the ball first and stayed in the lead for a while.

as much as I was pretending to focus on the shots all the players were making, I couldn't peel my eyes away from Nika. she was on Caitlin Clark's ass. not even letting her shoot a three pointer. shes doing so good. she had her hands surrounding the ball, barely letting Clark shoot at all. I admire her for her defensive skills. I believe her aggression really helps with that. shes passionate. she obviously wants to win but on court it looks like shes playing with her life on the line. but she does it with ease. the one thing I kept forgetting was that this could be her last college game. ever. no one knows where shell go after UConn. lots of people are saying overseas and I think that would be the death of me. I watched every move she made. not in a stalker way but in an invested in her game way. the way her hair swayed back and forth while she shuffled around Caitlin. the way she already had a couple balls of sweat falling off of her forehead. I would be lying to myself if I didn't think she looked really hot right now.

and I'm up again. Caydence was holding onto my hips before she tossed me in the air, I landed on her and angels palms before flipping off and landing feet flat on the floor. still holding a pretty fake smile on my lips. once it was someone else's turn to do a crazy flip, I took the chance and looked back at the bench, watching as Nika took multiple sips out of a Gatorade water bottle. her hand rested on Paige shoulder while she shot something that probably motivational and worded beautiful to Paige's ear.

the game was going smooth until the 4th quarter. I could feel my blood boiling while watching the timer tick lower and lower without our score going higher. this cant be happening. 3.9 seconds on the clock. I could practically feel the vibrations of every UConn fan tapping their feet waiting for someone to shoot a three pointer and give us the win. but no. a foul was called on Aaliyah. I don't think it was a foul but what do I know.

as much as I was desperate for us to win, I knew we wouldn't be taking home the win this time. 4.6 seconds. now Paige. what is it with these bullshit calls.

i never liked Iowa. in my opinion, Clark is good at basketball but can be conceited and over hyped. of course I didn't want anyone to come at me with that when Iowa "wins the natty" so i'll have to keep that in my head for now.

i started calming down, trying to accept the fact that there wasn't a point going on but they from the far side of the court I saw Caitlin Clark. the basketball player dubbed as the goat and a women's basketball savior, bounce a basketball off of her so called friend? fuck that shit. I almost stood up and sprinted across the court. me and Paige may not be close but I cant take shit like that. Farah rested her hand on my thigh, telling me to not do anything. because its "out of my control"

it could be in mine. just saying.

and just like that, number 20 gets the ball, throws it in the air, and declares the win for Iowa. I could physically feel my face getting hotter with each tear I saw fall from Nika's eyes. Iowa doesn't deserve this. they have everything. and UConn gave up everything. I couldn't stop myself from crying too. I shoved my face in my hands trying to dry the tears that were slowly ruining my eye makeup/ I feel fucking terrible. how could UConn give so much for this and barely get anything back. just the noise of all the Iowa fans cheering and laughing and the sight of them smiling made me sick. I wont even hide it. I was jealous. jealous that they had such dick riding refs.

who said that.

i wanted, so badly, to stand up and wrap my arms around Nika and Paige and Aaliyah and all the others to just give them some sort of recognition but we had to go. coach led us through the tunnel and that was it. I sat on a bench in our locker room, debating what to do.

and I figured out what to do. right then and there.

even with my hands on my forehead, crying and stressing, the inside of me was happy because I knew that someone wouldn't be feeling so bad on April 22nd.

#nika muhl #basketball #lesbian #uconn wbb #uconhuskies #paige bueckers #never be like you #Nika muhl x reader #Iowa wbb #nika x reader #cambrinkisbae

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