꒰👁️꒱ 𝕸𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖆 𝕮𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

Thatcher x Reader

This is like a father figure type of Thatcher. Or like a supportive guy who just calls you "kid."

[No romantic relationship!!]
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You could say that you were mad. But you knew that you just couldn't be mad at him. You looked up to him; Thatcher. Even though you worked double your time just to get a higher rank, you couldn't get mad at him. He worked hard as well...at least you think. It still wound you up at the bar.

Fast forward to a cool, October, Friday night. You're at the bar, drinking yourself away. The door chimes behind you, and the seat next to you scrapes against the floor.

"How's your night going, L/N?"

There's silence. You turn your head to him and sigh, but. a smile still manages to creep on your face. Thatcher huffs.

"You know, you shouldn't be drinking this late, kid. Especially all alone."

You knew that. But it wasn't specifically on your mind right now. You could barely see straight for crying out loud. The music from the bar ring and booked through your ears. It's almost all you could hear. You were WASTED. Thatcher wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"I'll take you home. My h-."

"Fine."

Thatcher held you up as you both trudged over to his car. He opened the door for you, being the gentleman that he was. He made sure you were strapped in and safe before patting you on the head. The car ride was silent, and you started to fall asleep to the sound of soft classic rock playing on the radio.

1: 20 AM

The car stopped moving

A car door slamming shut.

Yours opening.

You being lifted up. A grunt? You were put right back down.

"N/N, wake up."

The voice sounded like it was underwater. Ugh. You groaned and shifted around. You were shaken sharply. Your eyes shot open and they darted around.

"Huh!? What happened?"

"We're here."

You blinked, and blinked again. 'Wat the fuck?' You groaned and held your head. Thatcher put a hand on your shoulder and rubbed it slightly. He then grabbed your hand and helped you up and out of the car.

You glanced at the house..it wasn't your house. You glanced at Thatcher, he side eyed you.

"What?"

"This isn't my house."

"I know."

"...Did you kidnap me?-"

"No, kid."

He always called you kid, even though you were a year apart. Maybe it's because he was taller, and looked slightly older. He was like a dad to you. Always protecting and protecting.

He trudged up to his house, you following behind him like a lost puppy. He unlocked the door while looking around his house, which I forgot to mention, was surrounded by trees and in the thick of the forest.

His house was warm and cozy. You felt at home right away, and a smile was plastered onto your face.

"I have a spare room, kid. Follow."

You did as told and you followed him through his house. His house had a dark brown or brown theme to it. It was almost like a cabin. He led you to a spare, 10 x 10, room.

"Get comfortable."

He patted your back and left the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.