Evan Peters Imagines and One Shots

Mother Goose pt. 3

Today was unlike most days in the Walker household; it was the day I moved in. Kit shut down the station for the day to ensure I'd settled in. He'd insisted on helping me move my boxes, and by helping me, he wanted me to stand nearby while I sat there and looked pretty. Thankfully, I didn't have many boxes, as being a server did not pay enough for me to spend on little trinkets and doodads. I only had necessary items such as clothes, shoes, and stuff I'd brought from my hometown, like my late father's fishing poles.

The kids were too eager to hear about my fishing adventures, so when they begged me to take them to fish, I couldn't help but agree. Kit was reluctant at first. He was more of an indoor man, which I understood. I despised gnats as much as the rest of them, but after enough buttering up and with the help of Julia's charm, he had driven us to my favorite fishing spot. The children's eyes lit up as we arrived, and even Kit seemed a little thrilled. He wouldn't admit it, though. 

"Okay, now cast your lines toward the water. Like this," I instructed.

I threw my fishing line into the river, and the kids followed suit. Kit, however, still hadn't picked up his pole as he strolled by the edge of the riverbank. We'd been out there for an hour- and these kids sucked at catching fish, but practice makes perfect. I had captured five already; Thomas had captured a stick, and anytime Julia's pole wiggled, she'd run and scream out in terror.

"I can see why you enjoy coming out to this spot," he spoke, "It's beautiful out here."

"Hold on, Kit, don't get too close to the shoreline you might fall-"

Before I could even warn him, Kit had fallen into the creek, flailing his arms around in the water. Thomas and Julia were having a field day as they laughed at their father struggling to swim back to the shore. I guess the tide was heavier than what he was used to.

"You two, don't move," I advised the children. 

I desperately looked for a nearby log or stick that would be long and sturdy enough for him to hold on to so I could bring him back. Thankfully, I found one not too far from where we were. With a foolproof plan, I ran back to the edge and held the stick out for him to reach.

"Grab on," I instructed.

Kit asked no questions as he grabbed onto the other end of the stick. It was a hassle getting him back onto land. In the end, he was back on the wooded terrain and pissed as ever. The children jumped for joy as their father climbed out of the water. Drenched, Kit took off his shirt and attempted to squeeze the water out.

"Thanks, Y/n," he gasped.

"It's no problem, but be careful- if you fall in again and are too far to reach. I can't save you. I never learned how to swim," I confessed,

"You can't swim! Then why in hell did you bring us near the goddamn water, Y/n," Kit cried.

"I thought it would make for a great bonding experience," I replied.

"With who? The fish! Because I'll let you know they don't talk much down there. It's scary," he exclaimed.

"I'm so sorry, Kit. I shouldn't have brought any of us," I apologized.

I was trying so hard not to laugh in his face. The children, as usual, did not care as they were still laughing at their father's near demise.

"Don't be mad at Y/n, Dad. You know Julia and I would have saved you," Thomas said to him.

"I know. I can always count on you two. Huh," Kit said to them both.

Kit ruffled his hands through the children's hair. Smiling, he looked back and forth between the two of them. They were his favorite achievements. You could always see his eyes light up when he saw them.