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bluemerakis · 2 months ago

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┌── ˚*❀*̥˚ ─── ˚*̥❀*˚ ──┐

✐ᝰ bluemerakis

┗━━• ❃ ° •° ❀ °• ° ❃ •━━┛

❝ nothing left to lose ❞

⤷ Word count: 5.2k

It’s that time of the month (yippeee) and my hormones are all over the place. And then I found this gif and I just need this man to hold me this way because I feel like it could solve a world crisis. Thank you.

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PAIRINGS:

S7!Negan x fem!reader

WARNINGS:

Cussing, fluff, mentions of reader on her period, tame cutesie stuff

SYNOPSIS:

It had been another fairly quiet day as you lounged about the Sanctuary, your mood only dampened by the first day of your period. You were perfectly content to dwell in your bed and rot away for the remainder of the week, not so eager to do much else when the twisting and contracting of your stomach was so prominent, but those plans are set awry when Negan makes a stop at your room with his usual request for a good time.

When you enlighten him on your situation, he decides he’d like to stay regardless and indulge in your company, revealing a side to him you weren’t aware he had.

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It had been roughly a month since a group of saviours had scavenged you from your pathetic life of living off the woods. You’d been practically half-starved when the saviours had found you, a pitiful amalgamation of skin and bones that served no purpose other than to earn their ridicule. They’d have put you down and served you up as walker deterrent for their borders had it not been for one of the men recognising your face.

You’d been tracking the Sanctuary’s dealings for quite some time then, successfully managing to map out their routines and planning sparse trips to steal a few supplies from the pick up points. You’d had a few close calls, but even then you were like a goddamn shadow, in and out quicker than a blink. The men had never managed to catch you—up until that day, at least. The man had insisted you be dragged back to the Sanctuary, where Negan would hear of your actions and decide the best manner to make you atone for them.

Much to everybody’s surprise, though, he’d been oddly impressed with your skill—despite it being a massive leech on their supplies. His anger was more directed at the inability for his men to contain your posed threat, especially since you were no more than ‘a ghost of a woman’. You’d decided to ignore the implied misogyny in his words, instead focusing on the relief in his decision to spare your life—tied to the condition that you become his wife, of course. You’d reluctantly obliged, acutely aware of how the title would come to violate your own morals at some point, but he’d promised good treatment and up until now, he’d been nothing but true to his word.

The murmur of a light rain trailed through the crack of your partially opened window, infusing the atmosphere of your dim room with a further sense of serenity. You were curled up between the sheets of your bed, lounging on your aching stomach as you paged through your book of the week—a one thousand-paged hardcover on the tragedy of wars. It didn’t play into your usual tastes—it was far from it, actually, but there were so few options available that you couldn’t afford to be picky. It was amazing, really, what things you could convince yourself to indulge in when you were burdened with nothing but free time.

When you’d decidedly punished your stomach—and your mind—enough, you sluggishly rolled onto your side with a groan, flipping the book closed in the process. You didn’t think you could endure another mention of forced cannibalism, and you were only two hundred-odd pages into the historical hell. You doubted you’d find the strength to power through this pick, never having been much of a history fan to begin with.

Your back was turned on the book now, and there it stayed out of sight and out of mind as your eyes fluttered closed around a pressing series of cramps. You instinctively tucked into the foetal position, as though it would somehow lovingly cradle your stomach cramps and encourage it to ease off its painful hold. When the sensation didn’t budge, you opted for resting your eyes, allowing darkness to consume you as you fried to focus on the pattering of the rain against your window. In a way, nature had always been a mother, the rain her very own gentle lullaby that encouraged warmth and a long, peaceful sleep. You’d never get tired of that particular song.

A string of impatient knocks booted your door. You’d barely managed to open your eyes and give permission to enter before you heard the wood creek open, heavy footsteps striking the floor for only a few moments before silence re-emerged. Your head remained pressed against your pillow, your eyes squinting against the dim air as you managed to make out the tall figure of Simon. His arms were crossed against his chest as he glared at you motionlessly through the haze. You didn’t offer the courtesy of sitting up to greet him, which is as much as he’d offered by not waiting for your answer at the door.

“What?” You demanded, the echo of your voice damped by the downfall of rain.

“You know what,” Simon answered bluntly with that coarse annoyance edging his tone. “I don’t make a habit of visiting you for fun. If I’m here, it’s cause Negan’s in the mood for your goods.”

“God,” you groaned, finally lifting your head to properly glare at Simon. “Don’t ever say that again.” You settled for turning onto your back, your head upturned to face the white ceiling. There was a brief moment of silence before you sighed and said, “tell Negan that I’ll be unavailable for the next week.”

“Unavailable?” Simon echoed with a scoff. “You got some other plans we don’t know about?”

“Just my period, dipshit,” you responded thinly before lifting your hand in a shooing gesture. “Now scoot.”

Much to your dismay, Simon’s footsteps seemed to grow closer instead of further, and moments later his silhouette appeared at the foot of your bed. You felt a spark of annoyance at his insistence—the blood that quite literally poured from your insides left you little patience for social interactions.

“You think a little blood’s gonna deter Negan?” The man asked you, his tone mocking at the idea that you could be so stupid. “You’ve seen the guy, he can’t go a single day without that shit smeared all over him. Matters little to him how the blood is obtained—you know?”

You did. Murder and women, the two things Negan couldn’t absolutely ever have his fill of. But you also knew that you’d never been the one to frolic around while on your period, a fact that Negan would have to make peace with. Not only did you find it unappealing, but needlessly messy, too, and you’d rather not spend the aftermath of it all wringing your sheets out. No, your answer was final.

“You’re ruining my peace,” you told Simon pointedly, your eyes still studying the beams that reached between the walls of your room and upheld your pointed ceiling. When he didn’t seem to falter from his position, you sat yourself up with a huff, your fingers clutching your propped up knees. “Tell Negan that I politely decline his request—that is, if you have the balls to. Clearly you’ve got some reservations since you’re still loitering in my room after my many invitations for you to take your leave.”

Simon ignored your jest, running his hand across his hair to tame rogue strands. “He ain’t gon’ take nicely to your answer, sweetheart,” he said.

The pet name made your stomach curl beyond the cramps. “He’ll get over it when he gets on-top of the next wife.”

“Nah,” the man disagreed, rubbing a hand across his moustache. “You know he’s got some special obsession with you. You’ve been here for what—less than a month? Yet you’ve already left quite a mark on the boss-man.” He paused as his gaze lowered across you. “Can’t say I get the charm beyond your beckoning tits and ass.”

You glowered at his crudeness. “Gross, Simon. This is why you’re going to die alone, and the only hint of action you’ll ever experience is the caress of that explosion of bad taste stuck beneath your nose.”

Simon looked briefly offended by your dig at his stash, his jaw evidently clenched around his reckless temper, but he didn’t dare to unleash his fist or tongue. One of the few perks of being Negan’s wife was that you were awarded the opportunities to condescend his men time and time again, yet they were completely helpless in returning the sentiment—that is if they wanted to remain in goodwill at Negan’s side as opposed to being plastered along Lucille’s length.

“I’ll let Negan know,” was all that Simon offered before he departed your room, clearly eager to preserve what little dignity he had left. He made a point to slam the door behind him, which only made you chuckle.

Oh men and their fragile egos.

You could hardly believe they’d been made to rule the earth when their entire masculinity could so easily collapse at their rejected cock. You eased yourself back against the mattress, unable to help the faint smirk spread across your lips as your eyes fluttered closed once more. You were prepared for your second attempt at a nap, the rain growing progressively louder beyond a light drizzle. You remembered seeing the swath of grey clouds stretched across the horizon like an impending doom when you’d opened your windows this morning. It seemed that they’d finally arrived to deliver their promise of a heavy downpour.

It wasn’t long before the hum of the rain became distorted by your amassing fatigue, sleep arriving hastily to claim what remnants of your consciousness remained. You had surrendered all control, so eager to melt into the peaceful expanse of black where you could leave behind your mortal pain. You’d barely been gifted half an hour of that haven before Negan’s voice tethered you and withdrew you from the dark breaches of your mind, your eyes flickering open. You hadn’t even even heard him enter the bedroom.

“Holdin’ up there, sweetheart?”

The second greeting of his presence came at the menacing outline of Lucille, remarkably propped along his broad shoulder as he idled a few steps from the foot of your bed. You drew a clumsy palm across your tired eyes, attempting to chase away the drowsiness that clung heavily to your lids.

“Did something get lost in translation?” You managed to say, your voice slightly abraded by grogginess.

“Not the warm greeting a man expects to hear from his wife after a long and shit-filled day,” Negan said with a sultry gruffness, moving to take up a seat beside your torso.

The mattress dipped beside you, prompting you to turn your head and glance at him. “I’m sure one of the other girls can pick up my slack,” you suggested bluntly.

Your disinterest only seemed to earn that all-knowing smirk from Negan. “Goddammit, woman, you’ve got balls,” he remarked though that wide grin, his head slightly cocked to properly glimpse your face. He lowered Lucille from his shoulder, his hands propping onto the hilt as he planted the bat against the ground and leaned his weight onto it. “And that’s exactly why you’re my favourite wife. Hell, you even got me to walk the extra mile just to come and see you.”

“Not on purpose,” you sighed dejectedly, your eyes wandering along the glinting folds of his leather jacket. He did look good in that jacket—not that you’d ever milk his ego by admitting it. “If Simon truly had the nerve to refer my answer, you’d know that coming here was a waste of time. You’re going to have to fill your blood quota elsewhere.”

“Ah, come on,” he drawled, his gaze unrelenting through those darn hypnotising eyes of his. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but ain’t a good poking of the colons a great way to relieve some of the pain?” He asked pointedly. “In other words, you ought to let me fuck those asshole cramps right outta you. What’s a little blood, anyways?”

At that statement, you couldn’t help the flit of your eyes toward Lucille, the object always so menacing even when benched on the sidelines. You dragged your attention back to Negan’s expectant expression with a beleaguered sigh. “I don’t care what you get off on, Negan,” you told him. “Have your bloody fill of it anywhere else, but not here. I said no, and I meant it.”

You half expected him to further knead at the angle he was currently working, eventually wearing you down to a state that could almost be called consent—what more could you expect from a sadistic, murderous fanatic? A sudden cramp displaced that particular trail of thought, causing you to discreetly tense your lower half, inside of your lip taken into bite as an instinctual coping mechanism.

Negan’s head tilted back slightly with a trace of a chuckle, his tongue then poking through to glide along his lower lip as he gazed at you through narrowly thoughtful eyes. “All right,” he relented—much to your surprise. Had somebody knocked Negan out cold on the way here and taken his place? “If you’re going to deny my very eager balls a pleasurable time, the least you can do is entertain me with a conversation.”

You challenged the weight of his stare—ever so flirtatious regardless of the circumstances. “You’ve literally enslaved an entire selection of women,” you pointed out crassly. “Go bother one of them instead.”

“Enslaved?” He repeated, his eyebrows perched on a look of incredulity. “I didn’t enslave any one of those women. I’m a fair man—I believe in free will and I always honour my word. I weigh the options, I offer a choice—” he lifted one hand to gesture to himself, “—and they made their choice.”

“After you coerced them,” you said around a thick yawn, blinking away the moisture along your eyes as you focused your growing alertness on him. You sat yourself up with a muffled grunt, ignoring the sharp pains that struck your stomach with the movements. “You’re not a democrat. You’re just a bully with an unhealthy attachment to a bat. It’s like Negan’s version of Bonnie and Clyde.”

Negan fixated you with a long look, his expression ever so unrelenting on what thoughts were passing through that tainted mind of his. “You’ve got an awful lotta spunk for somebody actin’ like she’s on her deathbed,” he deflected, a short moment of silence following shortly after. “What about you—girl who knows what she wants and doesn’t take shit from the next gapin’ asshole?”

“What about me?”

“Did I coerce you, too?” He inquired huskily, his eyes narrowing in an almost dare for you to answer honestly.

You hadn’t ever needed much convincing to speak your mind. “Absolutely,” you answered simply, then paused before adding, “have you honestly managed to convince yourself that either one of your wives want to be here?” Your head was slightly tilted out of sheer curiosity, amazed at how painfully naive he appeared to be—for once.

Negan’s lips were spread thin with a smirk, parting as he said, “I appreciate your honesty. Although I’d be lying if I said I ain’t a tad bit hurt.”

A severe cramp seized your stomach, causing you to throw your face into your pillow. “Oh, you don’t know hurt, Negan,” you groaned. “If you truly had the capacity to feel, please be so kind as to spare me your company so that I can rot away in peace.”

He straightened up from the Lucille’s prop, his expression becoming inquisitive. “All right, I’ll leave,” he eased off, attention dropping to his lap, where he carefully rested the bat and stroked suggestively at her barbwire-infused wooden length. “And I guess I’ll be takin’ these with me,” he added, one hand dipping into his leather jacket to pull out a small, plastic cylinder labelled ibuprofen.

Your eyes practically bulged at the offering. Pain medication was strictly reserved for post-surgical cases and the physically wounded—those marred by gunshot wounds, blades, or even brute fists—you name it. That was Negan’s self-imposed rule. In this dying world, pain medication certainly wasn’t a medical luxury extended to lesser problems like a woman’s period pains—despite the entire gender technically being a victim of the repeated assault of severe period cramps. For at least a week of every month. For at least five decades of their lives.

“The fuck?” You murmured, hand reaching for the medication as though needing to feel it’s physical form to believe it’s existence.

Negan plucked it out of reach with a shit-eating grin. “You want it?” He taunted, propping his elbow onto his knee as he rattled the container between his fingers.

Your hand hesitated mid-air, expression becoming bleary as you hesitantly asked, “what’s it gonna cost me?”

“Question of the century,” he answered vaguely, intense stare beating down on you. He looked almost scheming, and that wasn’t a strange mask to wear—not for Negan Smith. But for once, his actions surprised you in a way that wasn’t coupled by repulsion. “Y’know, you’re a pain in my ass, ‘cause I can’t help but have a soft spot for girls like you—all feisty and opinionated and sure as hell ready to give my big balls a real good talking to.” The hand which clutched the medication gravitated toward you, offering it up without the tether of debt. “On the house, since I’m the boss man around here callin’ all the big, bloody shots.”

Your eyes narrowed cautiously, your hand slowly reaching to acquire your personal saving grace. You half expected Negan to yank it away as a feat of ridicule, but his hand remained steadfast, his expression eerily intense as he overlooked your internal war with a light undertone of amusement quirking the corner of his lips.

“Ya want it, or not?”

You took it from his grasp, bringing it closer to examine the legitimacy of the label. “I’m the only thorn in your foot because everybody else is scared of you,” you said distractedly, eyes then flickering from the medication to meet his idling stare.

Negan adjusted his torso to appear taller, Lucille slipping between his thighs to prod the floor under his guiding grip. “But not you,” he reaffirmed.

“I used to be.”

“Yeah?” He husked, eyes narrowed interestedly, tongue momentarily poking through his grin—as it so often did. “The hell’s changed? Real world toughen you up? Ya got a pair o’ steel down there now?”

You brushed aside his snark. “Nothing’s changed, really,” you admitted, attention drifting as you popped open the lid of the container. “But I’ve got nothing left to lose, and the worst you could do is make jam out of my brains.” You dispensed a tablet into your palm, then clicked the lid closed. “But you won’t,” you stated, meeting his gaze boldly.

Negan’s head tilted with a far too entertained air. “Why’s that?”

“Same reason you’re here. I’m your favourite wife, apparently—and what’s a man like you to do without his wife? You might just implode without a place to stick it,” you jabbed. “I’m always the one you come running to with all your shit—god knows why.”

“I gotta say, that’s mighty cocky of you,” he drawled through a grin, hand moving to whisk across his bearded jaw. “And that’s comin’ from me.”

You offered him the ibuprofen, a ghost of a cheeky-lipped grin setting in. “Force of habit when I’m obliged to be at your side every other hour of the day. Honestly, you only have yourself to blame.”

His grin widened, eyes leering you over before dipping to the container you re-offered him. “Nah,” he murmured. “Keep it. And not a word ‘bout it—I ain’t got time for ants up my ass when the other gals get wind of the shit I ain’t doin’ for them.”

“That supposed to make me feel special?” You jested. “Or just a threat?”

Negan’s lip hitched with a smirk—silent ambiguity, and reached a hand into his pocket to procure a fresh orange, bottled water and a packet of chips—your favourite chips. “That shit’ll put ya in a grave on an empty stomach,” he averted, chin jutting to the pill in your palm. He leaned over to place the snacks on the bedside table, offering you a sidelong glance. “I know your panties get all hot for this stale sack of shit,” he said, beckoning to your chips, then added, “and the orange will keep up that energy of yours—y’know, boost the spirit and fuel that friskiness o’ yours.”

You scowled indignantly as he took a swipe at your taste in chips. “Those aren’t my favourite chips,” you lied defensively, moving to place the pill beside your newly acquired snacks. “It’s practically the only brand that’s left in the midst of this dying world—so none of us can afford to be picky, can we?”

Honestly, you’d have to admit it to yourself that the chips being spared even in the midst of the apocalypse didn’t bode well for your case, but why go down without a meaningless fight?

Negan chuckled all-knowingly, settling Lucille onto the ground before he leaned his elbow onto the mattress beside you and brought his lips into the proximity of your face. “Tasteless or not, I’m willin’ to bet my dick that you’ll be back asking for more,” he murmured, hazel eyes glazed with that bedroom sex-haze as he delicately searched between your eyes.

Your attention flickered between him and the flashy, grit teeth poking through the lips you’d tasted countless times, his words so open-ended for interpretation—because Negan Smith loved playing games. “Are we still talking about the chips?” You asked softly, eyebrow hitched expectantly.

“We can talk about whatever you goddamn want,” he grumbled huskily, lips making an advance for yours, but you brought your hand up to press an index finger into the divot of his chin.

“I told you,” you began, “not happening—not today. So, off you scamper to the next wife for a good tickle.”

“Cut that crap,” Negan chided levelly, then reached for your hand and pried it from his chin. “The others can wait, let’s just get you up and runnin’ because it’s been a goddamn buzzkill on my dick.”

“Oh, how terrible for you,” you sniped, brows furrowing at his nerve.

He seized your hand in a tight grip to place a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes narrowed around an intense gaze as he maintained eye contact throughout the gesture. You fought the urge to yank your hand free out of spite. Once his lips retracted from your skin, he tucked your hand between your bodies as he leant down to place a kiss on your forehead instead. It was a rather gentle touch—the most intimate one he’s ever bestowed on you, but it didn’t linger long before he pulled back and released your hand.

“Jesus, burnin’ up all for me?” He remarked, pressing the backside of his fingers to your forehead before they caressed the expanse and moved to push back the loose strands of hair that cascaded around your view. “You’re hot as shit.”

“I am, thank you,” you said suggestively, adding more earnestly, “it happens sometimes—I think my body is literally trying to kill me.”

He pulled back his hand from your hair, finger trailing down the angle of your jaw before he withdrew his touch entirely. “Yeah, well, you’re tough as nails, so tell the biological bitch to dial it down a notch.”

“Duly noted,” you murmured, reaching for the orange atop the bedside stand, your attention deliberately downturned to the fruit in clutch as you began to peel it while simultaneously reflecting on the situation presented before you.

You were thankful for the medication, but it felt odd to hold a sense of gratitude for a man like Negan, and you had not the slightest idea on how to handle the foreign phenomenon. Even a month ago, when he’d quite literally plucked you from death’s claws, there was no gratitude to behold—his motives in sparing you had always been selfish. But this instance? This was an action you thought beyond his emotional capacity.

You’d thought his better conscious had been so far lost to a history of bad and reckless decisions that there was not a slither of DNA left still capable of holding regard for others—but this act of his prompted you to reconsider that notion. After all, he owed you nothing, and you owed him everything, yet it was him that had come to settle.

A manipulative tactic? Possibly. You weren’t all that naive to allow this instance alone to so easily sway your opinion on him. He was still of questionable character—and that moral debate could ricochet for an endless amount of hours.

You spared yourself the turmoil and brought yourself to it, lifting your head to meet his stare once more. He’d been watching you enigmatically, without his usual running commentary to fill the void—it felt uncomfortable to have a silence so long settle between the two of you.

You decided to settle for a simple, “thanks, by the way,” as you set aside the discarded orange peels and began to thumb at the centre to separate the slices. “For the medication,” you clarified, popping a slice into your mouth. The first bite was an explosion of sultry sweetness, a true pleasure to behold.

Negan gave somewhat of an accomplished smirk. “I got ya,” he answered, his gaze lingering incoherently on you before he blinked away the haze and straightened himself from the bed with a grunt. “Take a hot bath—” he suggested, hoisting up Lucille from her position on the ground, “—hopefully that Lady Uterus o’ yours will let loose for a bit.”

He strung the bat across his shoulder—the rightful queen atop her throne, and turned to begin his amble toward the door.

“Are you going to draw it for me?” You asked him hopefully, which made him halt and partially turn his torso to face you.

He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “What’re you, ten?” He jested.

“If only,” you retorted wistfully. “The only stomach ache ten year old me ever got was because of one too many bags of chips.” You caught yourself at the mention of chips, then felt the need to clarify, “the good kind, not these ones.”

Negan lips spread with amusement. “What a goddamn time to be alive,” he stated.

“I’ll say,” you murmured, then turned your attention back to your diminishing orange. “Anyway, if you’re done bothering me now, I’ll draw that bath.”

“Damn, I stick my neck out for you and I don’t even get to stay for the show?”

“You’re always getting a show,” you retorted. “Let a girl have some alone time, for once. Besides, there’s no such thing as you sticking your neck out, seeing as you’re the one usually holding the guillotine.”

Negan chuckled, his eyes holding a mischievous glint. “Touché,” was all he offered. “I’ll draw you that bath.”

You perked with surprise, the last orange slice popped between your lips. “Only enough water for one,” you mumbled around the sweet, stringy flesh, brows lifted with implication. “Just in case you were getting any ideas.”

“Oh, I got ideas,” he hummed, scheming grin on his lips. “The meds I got ya? On the house. This? This’ll cost ya a little something. And once you’re feeling right as rain, I’ll come and collect.”

You gave a slight flicker of your eyes. “Okay, tax man,” you said, reaching for the bottled water and pill. “Whatever Negan wants.”

“Atta girl,” he praised, hand raised to point an index finger in your direction. “Now you’re startin’ to sound like a commendable wife—almost enough to make good ol’ Lucille here jealous.”

“Leave your weird bat out of this,” you said before splitting open the seam of the sealed bottle and taking an eager swig at the liquid. You popped the pill into your mouth shortly after and gave a hard swallow, your expression furrowing in disgust when it momentarily lodged itself against your tongue with the kiss of a bitter tang. After another gulp of water, it slid down uninterrupted.

“Somebody’s parched,” Negan remarked. “Never seen you take my seed that eagerly.”

You gave him a hearty middle finger, to which he scoffed amusedly and disappeared a short distance into your offside en-suite. “How hot?” He called back to you. “Three quarters to the hottest?”

“Sounds right,” you called back to him. “And add the bath oils, too!”

“Useless shit.”

“Let a girl indulge, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, settling against the mattress while you listened to the sound of the drawing bath. You noted the calm of the weather beyond the window, where a barely perceptible drizzle thrummed down gently.

It wasn’t long before Negan reappeared at your side, Lucille carefully discarded onto the foot of the bed before he inched his way onto the mattress and you felt his frame curl around your backside. Heat radiated from his body and flushed your back with a sense of comfort, his lips then finding the nape of your neck. He pressed a kiss there, his hand gently curling around your abdomen, as though he knew to take precaution around your sensitive area.

You shifted your neck away from his teasing lips, casting him a glance over your shoulder. “Why are you doing this?” You felt compelled to ask—this tender facade of his was disconcerting.

Negan’s held your stare levelly. “You’re my wife,” he stated simply. “A real man takes care of his wife.”

“Yeah, but that’s not real,” you said. “None of this is real—it’s all a made up, a twisted way for you to pass time. Us wives? We’re nothing but entertainment to you—so why all this effort?”

There was a brief pause from his side before he answered you with a sense of solemnity that you’d never truly seen him possess. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” He asked. “Hell, I know what desperation feels like. She’s a stone cold bitch, and you were nothin’ more than a husk of a person when we picked you up in those woods. You’re a fighter—death ain’t got a fuckin’ lead on you. I mean, shit, that deserves some respect—and I give that only where it’s due. So, call it respect, call it whatever you’d like, but just take the goddamn win, won’t ya?”

You listened intently, an emotion of something other than annoyance settling within your chest at his somewhat glorified image of you. For the first time ever, you didn’t know how to respond. It was easy to strike back when most of the conversation shared between the two of you was shallow, bitter banter, but as of this moment, this situation-ship was starting to feel as though the foundation was being built on something other than debt, and that thought was daunting.

“Bath should be drawn by now,” you said eventually, settling your head back into the pillow, glad to displace the view of Negan’s face.

The hand at your abdomen slid away as he lifted himself up with a grunt of effort. “Then you best go and dip your toes,” he said.

You took a moment to heave a breath before rolling over and sitting yourself up from the bed, to which Negan stepped a pace back to allow you the room to stand up. You straightened from the mattress that had held you captive for the entirety of the morning, offering Negan a long stare, who returned it with a grin that felt as though your thoughts were transparent to him.

You shouldn’t, but you wanted to. Fuck it, you would—you’d said it yourself, nothing left to lose, right? You brushed past him and hoisted a beckoning hand over your shoulder, followed by a sparse, cheeky glance.

“Come with me,” you told him.

“I like the sound of that,” Negan chuckled, trailing after you with a confident charisma. “Looks like I’m gettin’ that show after all.”

“Shut up about it.”

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Thank you for reading! All likes & reblogs are deeply appreciated ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི

Tags: @bohemianblasphemy @violent-darkness @gibson-g1rl

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pedriscroquettes · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 – GAVI

warnings. p in v sex, public s3x (there’s no one around), jealous!gavi, & an annoying teammate

summary. academic rival!gavi makes sure you only have room for one nerd in your life

a/n. part two of comfort zone. tysm for the idea @gavisuntiedboot 🫶🏽

the sound of your professor’s voice filled the room as he explained your next assignment. you simultaneously put away your notes and listened carefully as this next project would be worth twenty percent of your grade. you were already laying out the details of your work as the professor continued to describe the assignment.

“there is one twist to this project. you’ll be working with a partner.” his words made you freeze. “and before you ask yes i will be choosing your partner for you.”

the room was filled with groans at his last comment, many of your classmates upset that they wouldn’t be working with their friends. meanwhile your eyes searched the room until they locked with a certain brunette. gavi had been looking forward to asking you to be his partner and now he was simply hoping the professor had decided to put you two together.

“mrs. y/l/n and mr. moretti you’ll be working together.” your professor says as he crushes gavi’s hopes and dreams.

franco moretti had arrived last semester from turin when his father took over as head of the marketing department for sevilla fc. he was also the teammate gavi despised the most due to them playing in the same position and because he would always insult him in words he didn’t understand. you scan the room to search for the argentine spotting him all the way at the end of the room looking at something else on his laptop. you sigh in frustration wondering if this project would be the reason your grade goes down.

as soon as class ends you make your way towards the blonde hoping to introduce yourself and get the project over with. he instantly notices you offering you one of his flirty smirks.

“bueno…” he starts. “we’re partners right?”

“uh, yeah. i just came to introduce myself-”

“i know who you are.” he interrupts you. “well i only know you’re like the smartest kid in our class.”

“i wouldn’t say that.” your cheeks heat up at his words.

“no need to be humble. your face along with his-” he points towards gavi. “is plastered all over the school. i’ve got to say i am very impressed by how you manage to do sports and somehow maintain your grades so high at the same time. but you probably just want to talk about our project.”

“uhm, thank you?” you can’t help but laugh at the interaction. “oh, yeah. i just wanted to ask if you have any certain topics you want to make our project about?”

“well i’ve got to get to practice in like five minutes or else coach will make me run five miles around the whole school. do you maybe want to meet up at the library later to discuss it? say around four?” he says as he packs up this things.

“yeah, that’s fine. i’ll see you there.” you smile awkwardly not sure if you should look forward to seeing him later or not.

you stay behind a couple of minutes going over some of your notes with the professor making sure you got everything right. you couldn’t afford to risk your spot in the rankings for a small error. grabbing your stuff you make way towards the library hoping to get some free time to study for your next psych exam before meeting up with franco. although, you don’t expect to find gavi waiting for you outside the door.

“he totally thinks you’re hot.” he simply blurts out.

“nice to see you too pablo.” you say sarcastically. “why are you blessing me with your presence today?”

“i bless you with my presence everyday.” he says as he begins following you to wherever it is you’re going. “so, you and franco…”

“me and franco aren’t even friends if that’s what you’re wondering.” you roll your eyes. “why do you even hate him so much?”

“i don’t hate him.” you simply stare at him. “okay maybe i do just a little but it’s reasonable.”

“you hate him because his dad works for sevilla and he’s slowly climbing up through the rankings. i’m not sure i would call that reasonable.” you say as you open the doors to the library. you’re grateful there’s barely anyone in there, you don’t enjoy being around large groups.

“whatever.” he huffs. “do you think he’s cute?”

you pause in your tracks turning towards gavi. the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned and his red tie on the verge of coming loose. he looked quite good and a part of you just wanted to go home already.

“are you jealous pablito?” you tease him.

“me? jealous of a benchwarmer? please. not only am i better than him athletically but also academically. there’s no reason for me to be jealous.” he scoffs at the ridiculous idea.

“okay so you won’t have a problem with me studying with him later in here right? you totally didn’t follow me to the library just to make sure i didn’t find him attractive right?” you ask him as you press the button on the wall to get an elevator. you loved that each floor was dedicated to a different genre of books.

“why would i have a problem? i’m the only one making you cum anyways.” his words catch you off guard. you look around making sure no one else has heard him.

“pablo!” you hit his chest and you expect him to just laugh but he only stares at you. his eyes darker than before. he pulls you towards the end of the nonfiction section where there’s barely any light and a bunch of books that haven’t been read in years. how romantic.

“but maybe he’ll get lucky and you’ll spread your legs for him. give him a good view and everything.” he drags his hand to the middle of your legs opening up your legs.

you can feel his breath on your neck as he moves your hand from your thighs to your core teasing you. you completely forget where you are as he leaves love bites all over your neck. the pleasure intensifying as teases you by running his hands along your core but not getting them under your panties to touch you.

“and maybe he’ll hear those sinful noises you make as he drags his fingers along your folds.” you whine as pablo spreads your wetness around your folds with his fingers.

“but maybe you’ll be desperate to have him inside you to feel full again. so you’ll simply move these to the side.” he moves your panties to the side giving him full access to your dripping core. “and take him in you like the good girl you are.”

you help him undo his belt eager to have him fuck you already. his button down shirt losing some of its buttons in the process. the two of you so needy to finally come together like a puzzle to care about what happens next. he finally manages to pull out his hard aching dick out and he doesn’t waste another minute as he brings it to your needy hole.

“and then he’ll drag it along your folds teasing you even more. but after a couple of minutes he begins to insert himself until he fills you- oh fuck.” he groans as he enters you. “and your walls squeeze him as he pleasures you.”

“please pablo.” you beg him as one of your hands digs into his soft brown hair and the other into his shoulder at the feeling of his slow sensual thrusts.

“please what princess?” his voice sounds so out of breathe.

“faster please. fuck.” his length hits you in spots you didn’t know were possible. you can barely contain your moans and pablo simply hopes you get louder.

then you hear it the sound of the elevator doors opening for the end of the long hallway. you think you’re imagining it at first since pablo doesn’t notice it kissing you as he fucks you dumb. then you hear the loud footsteps and you panic they’re heading right towards the two of you.

“pablo. there’s someone here.” he can barely comprehend a word you’re saying as he watches how you take him so well. almost like your pussy was made just for him.

“pablo stop.” then he listens scared he crossed some boundaries and hurt you. he immediately steps away from you the two of you groaning at the loss of contact.

“fuck sorry. are you okay? did i-”

“no, you didn’t do anything wrong it’s okay. there’s someone here though. get dressed.” you say as you fix your hair and skirt.

meanwhile pablo isn’t so lucky and he can hardly button his pants when franco himself shows up. the argentine tries hardest to stop himself from laughing at his teammate but he barely can as he looks at pablo’s disheveled hair. although, you look perfectly fine so he tries to figure out why pablo looks so messy.

“bro you look like you got dressed in the dark what happened?” franco stifles a laugh.

“caught him getting frisky with one of the librarians.” you blurt out wanting to tease him.

“no way? but they’re all over thirty- oh don’t tell me you’re into milfs. kinky shit bro.” franco somehow believes your lie.

“fuck you.” gavi directs at you before being invaded by his teammate with more questions.

the next couple of minutes gavi tries his best to get his teammate to shut up and convince him that you were lying. that he simply had fallen asleep during class because he’d already studied the topic at home which was quite believable. the three of you chatted before gavi had to make his way towards the field to make up for missing practice earlier. although he spends all five miles grinning like a little shit because he’d be willing to run them all over again as long as it meant getting franco the furthest away from you. he was hoping you’d only have time for one academically gifted athlete.

#franco 🤝🏽 me: saying bro every five seconds #academic rival!gavi #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi smut #gavi smut #football imagine #football smut #gabri writes

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dfortrafalgar · 8 months ago

Text

Bring Your Daughter(s) To Work Day

Law x Fem Reader (kinda)

When the babysitter cancels last minute, Law is forced to bring his daughters to work with him, and deal with the emotions they unknowingly make him feel.

A/N: SURPRISE- BONUS CHAPTER FOR IMLY!!! this came to me suddenly and i hammered it out. this can be read as a standalone, but i wrote it with the intention of it being directly connected to the universe of my long form fic "I'm Losing You"

Warnings: nothing but pure fluff here, folks. established relationship, third person POV, reader is only present in the beginning and end of the story, some suggestive language sprinkled throughout but nothing explicit

[IMLY Masterlist]

Law watched with dejected eyes as his wife dropped her head into her hands, a harsh groan leaving her lips. Under her breath, quiet enough so her kids couldn’t hear her profanity, she uttered, “Fuck.”

“Let me guess,” Law mumbled. “She canceled?”

“This is the last time we use this babysitter,” she growled, turning off her phone and flipping it upside down so the screen faced the table, ignoring whatever incoming messages might appear. “It’s going to be too late to find any sitters now, and their school doesn’t start for another week. It’s not like we can just drop them off somewhere or leave them here alone.” She picked up her gaze, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concern. “Law… I can’t miss this interview.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered back, reaching his hand across the kitchen table to stroke her clenched fist. “You’re not going to.”

“Do you have a plan, then?”

Law bit the inside of his cheek as he searched his mind for any feasible solution. One of the biggest interviews of his wife’s career was on the following day, ever since she cordially parted with her last job after having their twins. She spent the first year of their life physically recovering from the birth, as well as having her tubes tied to prevent any more reproductive issues, the couple happily deciding that they were fine with two children. The following toddler years were spent at home with Cora and Rose, his wife being assisted by Uncle Shachi, Uncle Penguin, and Auntie Ikkaku whenever they were free. On days where Law was out of work, he made sure his wife was completely hands-off, taking his daughters out so his wife could spend some much needed time alone or out with her own friends. The two had a comfortable balance, allowing for ample time spent with each other, their daughters, as well as valuing their personal lives. Law’s cardiothoracic surgeon salary was more than enough to afford comfortable living in their small house filled with two six-year-old girls and a dog, but he could tell his wife was desperate to get back to a working schedule again. There was never an issue with having more income, after all, and the doctor knew his wife was never one for the stay-at-home lifestyle for the long-term.

“I’ll bring them with me,” he stated suddenly. His face remained completely neutral.

“What?” she yelped, standing from her chair. “Law, you can’t. You’re a doctor.”

“I don’t have any operations tomorrow, and I’m only working 12 hours. I’ll bring them with me when I leave at 9, and you can pick them up after your interview,” he explained. “I have plenty of staff, and there’s a children’s room in the cardiac ward. They’ll have things to do and people to talk to.”

His wife frantically searched her husband’s face for any sign of indifference or reluctance to his own claim. Finding none, she slowly sank back into her chair. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re absolutely positive?”

“I am.”

“And you promise to not traumatize them?”

Law pursed his lips. The week prior, he found his girls in the backyard poking a dead, gutted rabbit with a stick. He didn’t think he had much to worry about. “I promise.”

Finally letting her shoulders relax, his wife slumped over and rested her forearms on the kitchen table, plopping her head against them and shielding her face from the world. A small chuckle exited Law’s lips as he stood and rounded the furniture, coming to rest behind his wife and placing his deft hands on her shoulders, massaging the knots out of her tired muscles. She visibly relaxed even more from his touch, almost as if she was melting from the motions of his hands.

“You always know exactly what to do to make me feel better,” she sighed, tossing a glance at her smirking husband from over her shoulder.

“Everything’s going to work out. You’ll do amazing at your interview, the girls will behave themselves at work, and we’ll all live happily ever after,” he hummed, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on the back of her head.

“Can you bring home ice cream tomorrow?” she asked, her voice finally regaining its light and airy demeanor as her sullen mood finally lifted.

“Of course.”

—

“Girls.”

Law’s stern golden eyes looked in the rear-view mirror, watching as Cora and Rose immediately snapped their attention to their father from the backseat. Rose clenched a book in her small hands, well above her age’s reading level, while Cora fiddled around with the broken arm of a Stealth Black action figure.

“Remember to be on your absolute best behavior today, alright?” he stated firmly. “I’ll be around to check on you both for most of the day, but when I’m not there, you need to be good for the nurses.”

“We know, daddy,” Cora chirped. “Mama told us you’d be coming home with ice cream if we were good.”

“I’ll be coming home with ice cream regardless,” he replied, a small smile growing on his lips. “But if you’re not good, you won’t be getting any. It’ll just be for Mommy and I.”

He laughed as his daughters screeched from the backseat, flabbergasted at the mere insinuation that they might not get a share of any delectable treats. Fondness welled in his heart as he listened to the twins bicker over their shared behavior. Through their short six years on Earth, they had already grown into strong, individualistic young ladies who were practically inseparable. Law cried on every single birthday. They had turned him into quite a softie.

His foot gently depressed the break of his car as he turned into the sprawling hospital’s parking garage, driving up the ramps to the third floor and slipping into a parking space reserved for staff. He diligently grabbed the large childcare bag from the passenger seat, slinging it over his shoulder before proceeding to free Rose from her restrictive (but very safe) car seat, followed by Cora, who clambered to get out of the car and holler into the echoing abyss of the parking garage, giggling at the way her voice bounced off the concrete pillars and walls surrounding her. Rose held her hands over her ears, cringing at the sound.

“Get it out of your system now, baby, you can’t be yelling like that in the hospital,” Law uttered, grabbing each girl by the hand and slowly walking with them toward the hospital’s entrance connected to the parking garage by a small hallway and two elevator shafts.

Rose firmly gripped her father’s hand in her right, clutching her book in her left. Cora skipped along, tripping over her feet, and sang into the air. “Gather up all of the crew! It’s time to ship out Binks’ brew! Sea wind blows, to where? Who knows! The waves will be our guide!”

Rose mumbled, her small voice whiny and irritated. “Cora, you’ve been singing that all day.”

“I love that song!” the younger girl retorted, almost stepping on Law’s foot. “Uncle Luffy taught it to me.”

Law bit back a smirk, yet rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. Leave it to that boisterous man to introduce his daughters to the life of high-stakes maritime activity. He’d be lying if he said playing pirates with his girls wasn’t some of the most fun he’d had recently, however. It only took a bit of a negative turn when Cora, pretending to be the infamous Blackbeard, landed a punch against Law’s groin so harsh it made him double over. It wasn’t like she knew any better, but amidst his wife’s worried yet hysterical laughter, he wondered if that blow was enough to make him infertile.

He shrugged the thought into the back of his head, releasing Rose’s gentle hand to press the elevator button, leading his girls into the small space and watching in silence as the doors closed in front of them, carrying them down two levels to the cardiac ward.

“Daddy?” Rose asked, looking up at him. “What do you do all day?”

Law pondered briefly. “On days where I don’t have operations, I usually do rounds for patients.”

“What are rounds?” asked the curly-haired girl.

“I go from room-to-room and assess each person’s health and how they’re doing,” he explained.

“Can we join you?” Cora suddenly asked, staring up at her father with her own large, golden eyes.

“I’m afraid not, sweetpea.”

The younger twin pouted before suddenly growing frazzled out of nowhere. “I LEFT MY ACTION FIGURE IN THE CAR!!!”

Rose quickly covered her ears again at her sister’s shrill scream.

“We’ll get it later, baby,” Law tried to console. He nervously glanced at the LCD screen above the button panel, about to reach the first floor. “I can get it for you on my lunch break. Can you wait until then?”

Cora’s face was growing flushed as she puffed out her cheeks, her eyes welling with heavy crocodile tears. “But I want him now! He’s going to die in the car!”

Law rubbed a hand over her hair. “He won’t die.”

“He will!”

“I’ll save him before he does,” he said back. “Shhh, keep your voice down, baby.”

Rose removed her hands from her ears with an audible, relieved sigh. Cora was appeased… for now. She’d have to deal with profound, inescapable boredom until noon, or at least until her mom came to pick the two up and save them from the children’s room at the hospital.

All things considered, the girls were fantastically behaved. They watched on quietly as Law scanned his badge to enter the high-security corridors leading to the cardiothoracic ward, nodding a wordless hello to the various nurses and doctors who passed by, each offering fond, excited smiles to the young girls. The long, winding hallways of the hospital were ginormous in comparison to the twins, who were used to the much smaller hallways of their kindergarten building, but they kept their hands in their father’s as he led them to his ward.

“Can you remember what I said in the car?” the surgeon asked, scanning his badge over one last electronic box on the wall, the click of the door’s lock signaling its opening.

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Rose obediently replied, more excited to be able to get back to her reading in peace.

“We promise,” Cora added. She opened her small mouth one more time, as if to add a second thought, but quickly shut her jaw and stared straight ahead. Law cocked an eyebrow at the display, but didn’t question it further. If the little girl had an issue, she would immediately let him know.

There was a children’s room, which was really just a small space situated behind one of the nurses stations, used primarily for families with very small children. When a person would be admitted to the cardiac ward, any potential juvenile visitors were welcome to use the children’s area to remove them from the otherwise clinical, scary environment of the hospital. The entire space was stocked with coloring books, light reading for ages 4-10, building blocks, and other miscellaneous playthings, all thoroughly sanitized before and after each visit.

When Law rounded the corner into the doorway of the children’s area, Rebecca was crouched down on the floor, diligently wiping down a set of large plastic building blocks with a sanitizing wipe. Her large, brown eyes glimmered as she saw Cora and Rose, having not seen them in quite some time. It wasn’t like Law brought them to work often.

“There are the guests of honor!” sang the pink-haired woman, discarding the wipe into a nearby trash receptacle and hurrying toward her superior and his two excited daughters. The girls pulled away from their dad and hugged Rebecca’s legs, instantly remembering the warm smile and bright laughter of the nurse who happily knelt to their level and pulled them to her chest. “It’s so wonderful to see you two again!”

“Let me know if they give you any trouble, Rebecca,” Law sighed, smiling at the sight albeit scrunching his eyebrows at the potential his children had for causing petty issues. They were their mother’s daughters, after all. Their well-behaved exterior made room for some very sinister six-year-old schemes.

“How could these sweet angels cause any trouble at all?” Rebecca giggled, ruffling Rose’s head of thick, curly black hair. “I will, though, sir. No problem at all.”

“I’ll be back in about two hours for my short break. Cora, Rose…” the surgeon called their names, alerting their attention once more.

The silence in the room was palpable as Law brought two of his fingers to his eyes, gesturing his hand toward their faces as if giving a silent threat that he had his eye on them, even if not in the same room. He had a playful smirk on his face as he did so, leading Cora to stick her tongue out at her dad. Rose gave her sister a light shove, harshly whispering about the ice cream reward still looming over their heads.

—

Two hours and far too many patient rounds finally came and went before Law was able to take a short break, proceeding to the children’s room with his ample amount of paperwork in an accordion binder held in his arms. He’d be able to get some time to work on it while sitting on the floor at the squatted table while he gave his nurse a much needed reprieve from his daughters. While marching through the long hallways of the cardiac ward, the surgeon pulled out his phone and smiled at the text that had come in from his wife, about 30 minutes prior.

Mama What do you think of this fit??? I mean, im going with it, but do i look hot and professional?

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama Right answers only. Also, are the girls behaving alright???

His wife did indeed look stunning. Her curves fit elegantly into a sharp, black pencil skirt that flared slightly below her knees. Sheer tights complimented her supple skin, and sophisticated yet casual wedge heels boosted her height by a good inch or so. She was posing in the mirror of their bedroom, one hip jutted out propping up her free hand that she graced over her waist. A trendy blouse was tucked into the skirt, the top few buttons still undone. Grinning down at his phone and holding his folder tighter against his abdomen, he fumbled to type out a response while walking.

You know you look stunning, baby. Absolutely gorgeous. You’re going to do up those top buttons, though, right?

He watched the incoming message bubble appear and disappear a few times before her response came in.

Mama Duh, i was just hoping that showing off some cleavage would give me extra points with you <3

Law fought to bite down the chuckle that rose in his throat, not wanting to attract attention. As long as I get to undo those buttons later. He was feeling bold today.

Mama Ice cream first, sex later. Love you baby <333

Law quickly shoved his phone into his pocket after thumbing out a quick good luck message for her upcoming interview, which she was surely traveling to at that very moment. He pushed open the door to the children’s room, quickly pushing back any inappropriate thoughts of his beautiful wife and smiling at the sight of his daughters.

Cora was in the middle of utilizing every single building block the room had to build a convoluted structure that took a plethora of odd shapes. She was being assisted by another young girl who’s curious violet eyes watched inquisitively at each new block added to the structure. Rose was in the adult-sized chair across the room, her nose buried in a new book. Judging by her original book on the floor by the legs of the chair, she had finished that one after only two days. A new literary record. Rebecca was absent from the room, most likely having left to continue her own duties, but judging by the faint smell of light cleaning alcohol in the room, she hadn’t been gone long.

With a smile, Law sat on the floor across from his daughter’s, and the new girl’s, strange structure. “What are you building?”

“A submarine. Can’t you tell?” Cora replied, placing a pink-colored block on top of an ominously leaning stack.

The new girl, who’s hair was a deep shade of purple, stared at Law with huge, curious eyes before a cheeky grin broke out on her face. “Are you the doctor taking care of my papa?” she asked.

Law grinned. “Could be. Who’s your papa?”

“Tenguyama Hitetsu,” she confirmed cheerily. “Well, he’s not actually my papa, but he also is.”

A lightbulb clicked on in his head. He had just been in Mr. Tanguyama’s room, and had no idea that the elderly man had any child under his care. It was then he remembered that the man had described a young girl as his ‘student’ rather than ‘daughter,’ but he still spoke about her with such fond language. Kurozumi Tama.

“Tama’s been helping me build,” blurted Cora, bringing herself to her feet to place another block on the tower attached to what was supposed to be a submarine.

“You two make a good team,” Law replied fondly as he turned his attention to his oldest daughter. “Rose, what are you reading?”

Her new book was substantially thicker than the one she brought with her. There were no pictures on the cover. She tilted the object down only slightly to speak with her father. “Rebecca brought it for me when I asked. It’s a book about common heart conditions in adults.”

Somehow, Law was not surprised. He didn’t even question it, watching as the black-haired girl turned her attention back to her book, disregarding any potential response from her father. Without another word, and without wanting to distract the kids from their intense focus, he scooted across the floor to the squatted table and opened his accordion folder, flipping through his paperwork to pass his two hour break, counting his blessings that he had such easy, albeit… strange, children.

He couldn’t stay focused long enough to begin filling out his patient charts, however. Especially not when he was swarmed with thoughts about his family. As he picked his gaze up and glanced across the room at his daughters immersed in their own little worlds, happy as clams in their special ways, he couldn’t fight the swelling in his heart. His wife, after worlds of difficulty, had given him two of the greatest gifts of his life. Those gifts were now six years old, about to start first grade, reading above their level, building and drawing, holding conversations, and were filled with boundless love. They hadn’t yet reached the age where they were embarrassed to hold hands with their dad in public, and they were still too young to fully understand the world around them, but it was clear as day to the surgeon that his little girls were bound to learn the tough realities of their lives sooner rather than later. It made his chest pang thinking of how quickly they had grown up. It felt like just yesterday that Law was by his wife’s side in the delivery room, finally holding his babies after they were allowed to leave the NICU, happy, healthy, and already beginning to babble and whine for their next feeding. He remembered looking at his wife, the woman of his dreams, who had gone through far more than any human should in bringing these girls into the world, kissing her lips and thanking her, thanking whatever deity was in the heavens that she was still alive and well.

“Daddy?”

Rose’s voice broke Law from his trance, his sharp golden eyes darting up to meet hers. The book was folded in her lap, her hands tracing the embossed letters on the hard cover.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice small and concerned.

A lump developed at the base of Law’s throat. His girls looked so much like his wife. He forced the rock down his esophagus and smiled at his little girl.

“I’m just fine, sweetpea.”

—

Law had needed to stay for an extra hour and a half after his shift was supposed to end, much to his distaste. After his close-call to an emotional outburst that afternoon, he wanted nothing more than to run home, embrace his wife in a hug, and cuddle with her on the couch with the ice cream that he had promised her. When he was finally able to slip into his car, the backseats empty (save for the Stealth Black action figure that was completely forgotten about by noon) with Cora and Rose having been picked up by their mom, he pulled out his phone to send his wife a text only to find that she had sent him one first.

Mama Look how tuckered out they are!!!

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama What did you do to them??? LOL

The image was immediately saved to Law’s camera app. Cora and Rose were curled up on the plush carpet in their living room on both sides of Bepo who was sprawled out on his back. Their little arms wrapped around the dog’s torso, their faces squished into his warm, white fur as they snoozed in one conjoined unit. He quickly tapped out a text that he was coming home, placing his phone in his bag and proceeding out of the parking garage as quickly as he could. With the only places still open at that hour being the gas station, he stopped at the nicest one in town and picked up three pints of ice cream, as well as a few extra treats to surprise the girls with when their new friend, Tama, came over for a playdate in a few days.

When Law finally entered his house, the only light still on was the lamp beside the couch. All the curtains were drawn, shrouding the living room in a pleasant, dim warmth. His wife was on the couch, laying back with her phone in her hand. She quickly stood up when Law entered, excitedly yet quietly closing the gap between them and capturing her husband’s lips in a tender kiss. He cheekily took the freezing bag containing the ice cream and pressed it against the thin cotton t-shirt she wore to bed, cooling her skin and making her suppress a surprised yelp. She giggled as she playfully batted Law’s chest.

“You tease!” she whispered. “I don’t wanna wake the girls.”

“With the way they were sleeping in that picture, I doubt we’ll wake them up,” he replied, his voice low as his lips stole another kiss, lingering a few moments longer. His heart fluttered at the feeling of his wife smiling into his gesture, her hands trailing over his chest, shoulders, and up into his fluffy black hair.

When she pulled away, he finally noticed the blouse she still wore, all the buttons done up. “Good, because you still have to take this off of me. I’m uncomfortable.” She snatched the bag out of his hands, procuring her own pint of ice cream. “After this, obviously.”

“Of course, of course.” Law followed her lead, grabbing his own treat after placing his other goods into the freezer and following his wife to the couch with two spoons in hand. Bepo was on his dog bed snoring up a storm, which he had been doing much more often in his older age.

“How did your interview go?” he finally asked, smiling as his wife snuggled into his size, using a blanket to grip her ice cream without freezing her hand.

“I think it went well, I was so nervous, though. I had to apply an extra layer of deodorant in the car because I was sweating so much,” she explained. “But the manager seemed pleased with my resume. And she knew Ms. Boa, so hopefully that means my recommendations will be worth it.”

Law held her close while opening his own ice cream. “I’m sure it will be. You’re a shoe in for that position.”

“You’re just saying that,” she mumbled, taking a spoonful of the frozen treat.

“You like when I say things,” Law replied with a smirk on his lips.

She sunk further into his chest, letting his warmth embrace her. Her mind swirled with images of the man, when they started dating, when he proposed, on their wedding night, in the hospital multiple times, holding his daughters… the woman blinked away fond tears and swallowed her emotions with another hefty spoonful of ice cream.

“What are you thinking about, gorgeous?” asked the man behind her, his voice gruff and tired from a long day in the hospital.

“Nothing…” she mumbled back, hiding her face in his neck. “Just how lucky I am to have you.”

#x reader #reader insert #fem reader #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #im losing you

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lovelyjj · 1 year ago

Note

I love your writing. I’m not sure if this request is to angsty but I was thinking about jj and a reader who got diagnosed with cancer but can’t afford chemo, and she only has a small amount of time left but wants jj to move on without her. With the prompts ‘you need to move on’ ‘don’t leave me’ and ‘I can’t lose you’? It’s ok if you can’t do this one.

No Goodbye

jj maybank x reader

wc: 2.8k

| angst |

(not my gif)

The day was gloomy, the clouds were a dark kind of grey casting a darkness on the land. The sun was dipping below the horizon letting only the last remaining light being seen.

JJ was in the doctors office a nervous wreck. He was worried about the results of the biopsy. If it was good news the doctor would of called but they asked you to come in person to discuss the results.

JJ was practically pulling out his hair. He didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that his girl was in there and she might be getting life altering news. All JJ wanted to do was be there for you.

JJ’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw you walk out. You looked like you have been crying but you didn’t want JJ to see that. You did your best to try and hide it. You stopped crying and wiped your face so you were able to walk out looking some what decent.

Looking at JJ who was waiting for you made your stomach drop. You were going to have to tell him the news. Your heart throbbed because you were going to break his heart, which was the last thing you ever wanted to do.

You made your way down the hall and into the waiting room. JJ smiled at you hoping that by some chance there was good news. You gave him a weak smile in return but you didn’t want to give him false hope.

JJ waited for you to speak. You took a deep breath mentally preparing yourself for the conversation your about to have.

“I have Leukemia, blood cancer,” you stated sadly.

“What?” JJ stood there mouth agape with his whole world coming crashing down.

“The cancer is in my blood.”

“Is it treatable?” JJ asked.

“Yes but i can’t afford it.”

“So what happens now?”

“Well they said I could live for many years without treatment.”

JJ was about to break. He couldn’t even begin to think about you being gone. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t let his mind go there. The thought of loosing you made him go insane.

JJ sucked in his tears and said, “That’s a pretty good chance.”

“Yeah. I’m sure I’ll beat the odds.”

Your relationship with JJ was very special. The two of you loved each other very much. The love you shared could move mountains. You were always together. You had a closeness like no other. JJ always showed you compassion.

Now that you had cancer your relationship only improved. JJ was very attentive to your needs and he supported you a hundred percent. He took care of you and made sure you were as comfortable as you could be.

Despite having cancer you had a positive attitude. You wanted to remain strong for JJ.

The two of you decided to take a vacation. A small one just the two you. You wanted to get away and take your mind off things. The doctors said it was ok because you weren’t going far.

You took a road trip to Myrtle Beach. It was about a 2 hour drive from Charleston. JJ wanted to treat you to something nice because you deserved it.

When you arrived at the hotel you were excited. The room was big and fancy and you were pleased.

“This is beautiful,” you commented.

“Yeah it is,” JJ replied.

“Thank you for bringing me here.”

“It’s no problem baby.”

“Are you tired? We could take a nap,” JJ offered.

“Yeah maybe.”

You and JJ decided to take a nap to rejuvenate. Afterwards you would be ready to explore. JJ held you close, cuddling you and wrapping his arms around you. You were situated under his chin, face in his chest and legs tangled together.

When you woke up you felt refreshed. You gave JJ a kiss on his cheek to wake him up. He groggily grumbled something and tightened his hold on you. You nudged your nose with his and smiled.

“Good morning sleepy baby,” you spoke.

“Good morning pretty baby,” JJ responded.

“We should get up and do something,” you suggested.

“5 more minutes,” JJ mumbled.

Of course you granted his wish, agreeing to stay in bed a little longer, and bask in each other’s presence.

You decided to go on your phone and look up attractions. You found out there was an Aquarium and a shopping mall.

“Would you want to go to an Aquarium?” You asked JJ.

“Yeah I’d love to,” JJ replied.

The two of you left your hotel and made your way to the Aquarium. It was a big place full of all kinds of sea creatures.

“Look at the sting rays,” you pointed.

“Woah those are sick!” JJ expressed.

You and JJ walked around the aquarium hand in hand looking at all there was to see.

“Are you having fun?” you asked.

“Yes i’m having a blast, but i usually always have a blast when I’m with you.”

“Your sweet,” you smiled.

“How you feeling?” JJ questioned. He couldn’t help but worry about you. He only wanted to keep you safe and healthy.

“I’m great,” you said truthfully.

“Good.”

There was a seating area that looked over a glass filled with fish. The two of you decided to sit down and gaze at the sea creatures.

JJ threw his arm around your waist pulling you close. You rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent, letting it wash over you and calm you down.

The aquarium was beautiful and you were glad you decided to go.

“You know I fall more and more in love with you every day.” JJ hummed.

“Your so sweet, I love you to the moon and back.” You smiled.

JJ kissed the top of your head. The two of you looked at all the fishes in awe.

Then you got up and walked some more all around the aquarium until you saw every inch of every attraction.

When you got back to the hotel you were both tired. You decided to lay down together on the hotel bed. JJ was playing with your hair looking at you lovingly.

“Jayj?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” JJ replied.

“Can you promise me something?”

“Maybe, what is it?” JJ asked.

“When I’m gone I want you to spread my ashes in the ocean,” you looked at JJ sincerely.

“Y/n. Don’t you dare talk like that,” JJ hissed.

“What? I’m just planning ahead,” you shrugged.

“You shouldn’t be planning just yet, but your gonna make it, I know it,” JJ insisted.

“You can’t know that for sure,” you countered.

“Maybe, but I believe in you,” JJ smiled.

“JJ…”

“What?“

“I don’t want to give you false hope,” you expressed.

“Your not,” JJ replied.

“Listen JJ, I’m just trying to save you from major grief,” you stated.

“I don’t need saving I’m in it for the long haul,” JJ explained.

You sighed, deciding that you didn’t want to argue with him, so you placed a kiss on his cheek and turned around in his hold and went to bed.

The next day the two of you went shopping at the mall. The day after that you watched the sunset together at the beach. Next you took a walk on one of the golf courses. Eventually your trip came to a end and you had to go back home.

The two of you weren’t that excited to return back to reality. The vacation was much needed and gave you a nice escape from the everyday pressures. You did however have to go back to worrying about your cancer which both of you dreaded.

When you arrived home, JJ made it his mission to make sure you get to do everything life has to offer. And you got to because of him.

——————

You were at the pier after you guys got some ice cream. The weather outside was perfect. It was a nice day to walk along the pier.

“Wanna try mine?” you asked.

JJ opened his mouth you fed it to him.

“Yummy!”

After you were done with your ice cream JJ started chasing you. You giggled as you ran away from him. When he caught you he scooped you up and spun you around.

JJ set you down and you looked at him lovingly. JJ was your whole world and more. He was your safe place and number one person. He was your rock and shoulder to cry on. Without him you don’t know what you would do with yourself.

“Jayj, tell me a secret,” you asked.

“What kind of secret?” he responded.

“Any secret,” you replied.

“Ok. I’m madly in love with you.”

You couldn’t help the big smile that took over your face. “No I mean a real secret.”

“Hm ok let’s see. One time at school I went to the bathroom to smoke a joint and when I came back the teacher asked if i was high. I told her yes and then she sent me to the principals office. Instead of going there I walked home.” JJ finished his story smiling.

“Are you for real? That’s hilarious!”

“Now you got to tell me one,” JJ smirked.

“Ok,” you took a deep breath, “I’m afraid of sharks.”

“Wait seriously?!” JJ asked.

“Yep. That’s why when we go surfing I get really scared and just watch instead.”

“Oh my god, i’m so sorry,” JJ apologized

“No don’t be I enjoy watching you surf, brings me peace.” you replied calmly.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know that,” JJ laughed.

“Well now you know,” you gave him a small smile.

“You want to know what else i’m afraid off,” you began.

“What?”

“Dying.”

“Oh baby. That’s not gonna happen any time soon,” JJ comforted.

“You never know,” you voiced nervously.

“Maybe I don’t know but i’m gonna be with you every step of the way,” JJ concluded.

“Thank you,” you gave JJ a hug.

——————

Then what JJ didn’t expect so soon was your decline. You were in bad shape. You were declining and getting worse. The doctors reassured you and JJ that they were doing everything they could. JJ wanted to remain strong for you, no matter how hard it seemed.

You were admitted to the hospital a few weeks later. The hospital was far from homey. It made you feel depressed, but you tried to keep a smile on your face for JJ.

JJ was with you every step of the way. He was always there. He’d sleep in uncomfortable hospital chairs which you told him he can sleep with you in your bed. He refused something about giving you space but you insisted.

To pass the time the two of you would talk or watch TV. You were getting weaker and weaker so you decided it was time for the inevitable.

“JJ,” your voice came out pained.

“Yes baby?” JJ responded.

“I don’t want you to watch me die,” you whispered.

“Don’t talk like that, you’re going to live. If anyone can beat this it’s you.”

“I want you to live your life to the fullest without me,” you spoke softly.

“Baby please,” JJ begged as his eyes filled up with tears.

“You need to move on,” you stated firmly.

“I don’t want to move on,” JJ cried.

“JJ please don’t make this difficult.”

“I’m not trying to I just am having a hard time processing everything.” JJ choked out.

“I love you but you have to let me go.” you explained.

“Y/N please don’t do this,” JJ pleaded.

“I’m trying to save you from suffering later on,” you delicately said.

“I don’t need you to protect me. I’m in this for the long haul,” JJ expressed.

“I need you to listen to me. Please. I want you to forget about me. Let me go. I don’t wanna break your heart by dying.”

“Baby-“

“No JJ i’m serious. I want you to move on without me, please.”

“I’ll try,” JJ’s voice betraying him.

Despite what JJ said he had no intention of moving on. You were his whole world. He wanted to be with you every step of the way.

JJ was at the hospital constantly. It was like he never left. JJ went to get some food and when he came back you were asleep.

JJ went up to you and stroked your head. “My baby girl,” he whispered.

You stirred a little bit remained asleep. JJ was staring at you in awe because you were prefect in his eyes. You were his angel.

“Please don’t leave me,” JJ whispered.

JJ was thinking about what life would be like without you. He begged his mind not to go there but he couldn’t help it. He would be devastated. There would be no life without you. You were his whole world, without you there would be no point.

“Jayj,” you whispered.

“Yes, baby,” JJ responded.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yes I should be. I should always be here.”

“I want you to move on,” you stated seriously.

“I’m not ready for that. I can’t lose you,” JJ cried.

“You haven’t lost me yet. I’m still in love with you, I just want you to move forward,” you expressed.

“I’m not going anywhere, til death do us part,” JJ replied.

“Come here,” you opened your arms for him to jump into.

JJ breathed a sigh of relief and accepted your request. He got onto your bed and slid in next to you. He tucked you under his chin and you both hugged each other.

The two of you were in your own little world, enjoying each other’s presence. JJ held onto you like his life depended on it. He didn’t want to let you go.

JJ reluctantly went home to shower and change and rejuvenate. When he came back to the hospital he was waking down the hall when he ran into your mom.

“Hi JJ,” your mom spoke.

“Hi, mrs. y/l/n, how is she?” JJ responded.

“She’s gone, I’m so sorry,” your mothers eyes filled up with tears yet again.

“No she can’t be gone I never got to say goodbye,” JJ cried.

“She left this for you sweetie,” She handed him a envelope.

It read: To my sunshine boy

It was in the same loopy letters as your handwriting and it brought JJ to tears.

To: My Sunshine Boy

I want you to know that you made my life worth while. My time spent with you was some of the best times of my life. I cherish everything that you have done for me. It was an honor being your girlfriend. I loved you more than I’ve ever thought possible. More than anything. The amount of times you brought me joy or made me laugh is uncountable.

You are a ray of sunshine on my darkest days. I will never be more thankful for whatever higher power gave me you. When I’m gone I promise to wait for you in the afterlife. Please don’t be too heartbroken when I’m gone. I hate to of made you upset.

I want you to fall in love again. I want you to fall in love with someone else and have your heart belong to them. I want you to live your life to the fullest and live with no regrets.

I hope you know how proud I am of you, for all your accomplishments. I’m proud of you for standing up to your dad. You were given a shitty deal of cards in life but you are so much more than what you were dealt. Im so grateful for having you in my life. I don’t know what I would of done without you.

You are the most driven, and hardworking person i’ve ever met. You are amazing human being who is strong and loving. Being loved by you was one of my greatest memories. I can not thank you enough for treating me with respect and kindness each and every day we were together.

You have made me the happiest girl in the world. Being with you has been the highlight of my whole life. You have been my guardian angel and I can’t thank you enough for taking care of me.

Thank you for being the best boyfriend a girl could ask for. You are the love of my entire life.

all my love,

y/n

JJ was balling his eyes out by the end of your letter. He couldn’t believe you were gone. He refused to accept it. He couldn’t let you go even though he knew he needed to.

The past few weeks have been really hard for JJ. His house was a mess, empty beer bottles littering the floor. He really let himself go. He didn’t see a point in trying anymore. What is life when the love of your life dies.

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stevesjockstrap · 1 year ago

Text

Odds Are

Based on this post or Eddie gets his hand stuck in the Family Video return slot… and Steve finds him.

read on ao3 • rated T • cw: mention of injuries

Slamming his van door, he hurried through the parking lot towards Family Video. He knew they were probably closed but he needed to return his rental. Eddie was very high, but not as high as his late fees.

Getting to the front, he yanked hard on the obviously locked door.

“Fuck!” He looked around, remembering Wayne saying something about an after hours returns slot.

Finally locating it on the side of the building, he peered at it, crouching down to see how it worked. It was just a metal flap that opened into the building. He frowned. Was there a soft landing for the tapes? A pillow? What if the tape got damaged and they charged him for it even if it wasn’t his fault since he was just using their shoddily designed returns slot? He couldn’t afford to replace this tape. He was here because he couldn’t afford another dollar late fee.

Stomping around the parking lot, he couldn’t decide what to do.

He pulled his trusty D20 from his vest. Crouching down again by the wall, he rolled. A three. Well. That wasn’t hopeful.

Deciding he could hold the tape and try to get it as close to the floor as possible, to lessen the chances of breaking the case or tape, he rolled again. Fourteen. Good enough for him. He wrapped his hand around the tape and slid his hand through the slot, leaning in with his shoulder so most of his arm was through, and he finally let go when he couldn’t push inward anymore.

Grinning when he heard a soft sound from the other side, he pulled his arm back. But then winced when it didn’t come out.

“Fuck!” His rings were caught on the other side.

Wiggling his fingers and yanking his arm back did nothing but send sharp pains through this hand. Clenching his jaw, he decided he had to stop. He couldn’t lose his fingers. He needed them to play his guitar and D&D and there’s no way he could jerk off left handed now, it would be miserable.

Settling back on his heels, he craned his neck and looked around. Every other building he could see was dark. There were no cars in any of their lots and of course no one else was out at this time of night. Wayne was at work. He wouldn’t miss him until tomorrow.

He felt his chest clench with panic as he realized he was stuck here forever.

Or at least until someone came to Family Video.

“Am I going to be stuck here until morning?” He whispered to the D20. He closed his eyes and rolled.

Cracking one eye open, he checked. A fifteen.

“Fuck!”

Managing to get into a somewhat comfortable position with his legs under him but not yanking on his fingers, he leaned against the side of the building with a sigh. At least it wasn’t raining. His eyes widened and he looked up at the sky suspiciously.

“Is it going to rain?” A four. He sighed again in relief.

Scouring his pockets one handed for things to entertain himself, he somehow managed to not die of boredom over the next few hours.

Something jolted him awake, and air pushed out of the return slot at him. Someone must have unlocked the front door. Before he could decide what to do, he heard a ‘holy shit’ from inside.

“Woah man, uh, are you okay?” Steve fucking Harrington was suddenly standing beside him. Could this day get any worse?

“Yeah, just um, returning my rental. Making sure it got here safely. Your death trap here is a little much, don’t you think?”

Steve blinked, eyebrows coming together for a second before he smiled and held back a laugh. Eddie bristled. “Usually people don’t stick their entire arm into it. Oh! Let me go, uh, get you out. Sorry, I just saw a hand and freaked out. Stay there!”

“As if I could run away, asshole,” he grumbled.

There was an odd sensation of pressure on his hand yet everything was numb.

“Don’t go anywhere, come inside and let me make sure you're okay.” Steve was talking to him through the open metal door, after releasing his hand.

He slipped his arm out and may have let out a very manly scream when he saw his hand. It was nearly blue and his fingers were swollen.

Finding himself in the back room of Family Video with Steve Harrington fussing over him hadn’t even been a blip on his radar of how this day could’ve turned out.

“Keep it below your heart, so the blood flow can get back to it, you know, easier. I think it’ll be okay. Once it’s not blue we can do an ice pack for the swelling.”

Eddie peered up at him. “They giving out medical degrees at Family Video now?”

Steve anxiously grabbed the back of his neck and looked around, “No, but I’ve, uh, gotten myself injured a lot recently. So-“

“I’ve got a lot of personal experience being a human punching bag, myself, actually,” he snorted. He’d heard about the Byers thing, and the fight with Billy.

Steve groaned but he got to watch the blush rise on his cheeks, bringing out his freckles. Oh.

He decided to try to hurry this along, shaking his hand around and flexing his fingers to try to get feeling to them. However, the feeling that came back first was pain.

“Ow, oh fuck,” he hissed.

“Time for ice, then,” Steve suggested.

He watched him open a small refrigerator in the corner and pull out a soft sided ice pack, wrap it in a towel and bring it to him. He looked embarrassed for some reason, and shrugged a shoulder when he helped settle the bundle in his open hand.

“I get migraines. Since- well, for a bit. So. The ice pack helps sometimes. If I catch them right.”

Eddie watched him closely as he rambled. “You’re a lot different than I thought you’d be.” The words tumbled out as they usually did, without much thought.

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrows shot up adorably.

He was really enjoying this attention from this new and improved Harrington. He sunk back further into the couch, easing his sore hand back. “Yeah. Why are you being so nice to me? This isn’t very King Steve of you.”

Steve winced and he instantly wanted to take it back. But he shrugged, throwing his entire body into it. “Im not him anymore. I’m trying, really trying, to do better. Robin helped a lot.”

Eddie frowned. The only Robin he knew was, “Robin Buckley?”

Steve’s demeanor changed completely, excited and almost bouncing on his toes to explain, “Yeah. She’s awesome. We’re best friends. She got me this job basically. After the whole Starcourt thing,” Eddie watched his face close off at that, “we, uh, we’re really close.”

He felt like his entire world shifted on its axis. Sure, he’d seen them at the mall at Scoops and he knew they both worked here, but… best friends? He was also pretty sure Robin Buckley was gay. Did he know? Was he okay with that? Would he be okay if he knew he-

“Holy shit,” he covered his face with his other hand and the ice pack dropped to the ground. This was too much.

“Are you okay? Are you gunna hurl? Eddie?”

“I’m okay, I’m just…” He shook his head again, rubbing across his face. When he looked back at Steve, he found him crouched in front of him, inches away really, holding out the ice pack for him. “Thanks,” he breathed. He wanted to trace his finger over the freckles and moles and scars across his cheeks and down his neck.

“Anytime.”

After Steve deemed his fingers safe from danger, he unfortunately really had to leave. Steve held the front door open for him, a cute little smile on his face.

Throwing his van door open, he stopped and looked back into the video store. Steve was standing behind the counter now, and raised his hand to wave at him. He waved back, dazed.

Patting his pockets, he found his D20.

“Do I have even a microscopic chance?”

He cupped his hands around the die and shook it, letting it drop into the seat. A nat fucking twenty. He blinked. He had to get to school. But he was hours late already.

Leaving the door hanging open, he ran back inside.

“Hey, uh, Harrington, you ever been to The Hideout?”

@spdrgwen @eddiethehunted @callmeloverr

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things fic #mine #Steve/eddie #pre relationship steddie #steddie fic

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o0o0thorn0o0o · 6 months ago

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Late, I know, but…! Only by two days, so I’ll still label/tag it:

Ichihime Week, Day 7: Mythical Lovers / Rainbow

I was planning on adding in magpies in the background this time, but I was getting lazy, and it’s already late, so maybe next time ^^;

(Also I was thinking of making a rainbow version, but it didn't come out as I would have liked? Idk. I still think it’s cute, though, so I put it under the cut)

Alrighty, listen: I really didn’t mean to wait this long to post. But, like, very shortly after Eid, my iPad’s storage filled up, like, to the point I couldn’t even access my mail (that’s how I found out, pfft). I was wondering why I’d ever need 256 GB 4 years ago… but still, it was $100 extra bucks. Sure, it was a grad gift, but 128 GB was expensive enough—still a lot of storage, too… Not enough, clearly!

Hoarding layers (and recoloring my own art, pfft) has really caught up to me… but also, it wouldn’t help too much if I didn’t either. After deleting what I could bear to part with, that took away around 5 GB, but merging layers in other works barely made a dent.

So I’ve spent these past few weeks wondering what to do, thinking about emailing my 2019 (imported from my 5s) and 2020 works to an email I also created 4 years ago for some reason I totally forgot about and never used so that I don’t end up taking any space in my actual one and then uploading them onto two (since I really don’t want my files corrupting) USBs via my laptop, trying to get those USBs from Target (but since I was adamant this time in getting 256 GB USBs—I don’t want to have to worry about storage for a longgggg time—there were none in stock), ordering them off of eBay instead since my dad insisted on their cheapness, waiting a week for them, then transferring them to that email and uploading them onto its Google drive if the files was too big…

But that was taking much too long and still left space on my iPad while I was doing it. I managed to complete the 2019 and 2020 pieces from my iPad, but it also only ended up being around 1 GB… So, like, I need to clear more years (breaks my heart, it does ;~; Sure, I still have access to them via that email and those USBs, but it’s not convenient anymore, and there are still pieces I plan on getting back to… ackkkkk).

Contemplating it some more and discussing it with a friend, much as I abhor subscription services, I finally decided to purchase a premium membership on Ibis for that 20 GB of cloud storage. I can afford the 30 bucks a year, and I like the app anyway—serves me good—and not having to watch an ad every 18 hours to access my go-to brushes would be nice, plus having access to the other stuff, but yeah: ✋🌈✨cloud storage✨🌈 🤚

Anyway, I’m pretty sure a good chunk of what’s taking up my space is actually the cache, as I’m already more than halfway through my drawings, and I’m not sure if I’ll reach that 75 GB of storage Ibis was apparently taking up with just my drawings. So I’ll probably need to download everything, then delete the app and redownload it ‘cause stupid IOS doesn’t let you easily clear it 🫠

Anyway, I really thought I’d be done by now, but am not—that said, I managed to clear out around 10 GB off of Ibis (not my iPad; I somehow managed to gain back 5?? Somewhere?? I’ve no clue; I don’t see it), which is wayyy more than enough to get one drawing done for IH week, so I paused the whole storage thing for now. I actually tried to get day one’s drawing done on the 6th, but I’m dealing with perspective that’s hurting my brain, so I decided to get day seven’s done instead, ‘cause I thought I’d be on time…

Me? On time? Man, who knew I was so funny… 😒

But yeah, day seven is done! I’ll definitely revisit that day one drawing in the future, but not anytime soon. As if I wasn’t backed up already, this whole storage mess has backlogged even further, and there are other dates coming up 😮‍💨 And, y’know, gotta finish the storage transfer, too… Ahhhhhhhhhh!

Anyway, on a more positive note, gradient maps are actually very neat to use—had a little too much fun, eheh. I won’t confess how much time I spent testing it out on this piece, but here be my favorite:

They’re so golden <3 ☺️

#bleach #inoue orihime #kurosaki ichigo #ichihime #ihweek2024 #ichihime week #fanart #digital art #the cons of digital art man…#and well me being a hoarder too but shhhh 🤫

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freckledjoes · 30 days ago

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(In)sanity

Steddie Christmas fic! Summary: Eddie returns to Hawkins for the holidays and stumbles upon a very detailed snowman that resembles someone familiar... Warnings: Don't read this if you hate Christmas. And cute shit. Author's note: Be gentle <3 I don't really post things I write. I'm sure it's flawed in more ways than one. I focused on the cuteness, not the UD plot, so if that's vague, it's because of that. This came to fruition because of this post. Word count: 7299

Alright, fine. The rumor’s out: Eddie Munson had returned to Hawkins for the holidays. To his credit though, he had in fact gotten ‘the hell out of there’ once Higgins had finally been forced to hand him his diploma. It was just that, when he arrived in New York, things had been… difficult. You don’t just up and leave and suddenly make it with your band, apparently. Especially not when said band actually decided to do weird shit like going to college. But… It was fine. He did have a good time, found some people that did in fact enjoy his presence (some mostly preferred him inside their beds, which was new) and he enjoyed skipping from roommate to roommate duty all around town.

And yet… here he was. Eddie claimed he had gone back for the holidays. To see Wayne, the Hellfire kids, and yeah. Part of that was true. The other part was just that he couldn’t find his footing in New York, not by himself. As fun as it had been to discover the New York version of Eddie Munson, it hadn’t really been… him. No one really bothered to get to know the real him and in all honesty, he had been enthusiastically hiding him anyway. He had pretended to enjoy mainstream music (It was fine, just not really his jam to dance to until 5AM - which he had. Several times too many. Shudder), drank fancy coffees that he couldn’t really afford and hadn’t mentioned Dungeons & Dragons ONCE after he received a funny look from his second roommate.

Which is why it felt like a breath of fresh air to be back in Hawkins. Where people thought he worshipped Satan, attended virgin sacrifice ceremonies and was an obnoxious good for nothing waste of space.

It was familiar.

And honestly? He wasn’t even sure who he was anymore sometimes. Getting rid of the super senior title kind of forced him to go do something with his life.

But what?

His trusted van greeted him in the parking lot he had left her at and he was surprised it hadn’t been towed yet, in all honesty. At first Eddie hadn’t been sure it was his van considering she had almost become one with the parking lot due to all the snowfall. To no one’s surprise though, when Eddie had wiped off most of the snow and turned the key, she didn’t have more in her than a splutter of her engine before she went back into hibernation.

And so, Eddie walked. He knew Wayne wouldn’t be home yet, so he decided to take a detour. The quiet streets carried as much of a negative familiarity as a positive one. He’d been out on those streets for many reasons, taking long walks either high or sober, contemplating pretty much everything about his life long enough for the sun to come up.

Tonight though, he had different things to think about. Or maybe not that different. He had to decide whether he was going to go back to New York (probably not) or if he was going to stay in Hawkins (probably not) and if neither of those, then what? Nothing kept him in either place anymore. Wayne was doing just fine without him and although he missed him, he also wanted to give him some well deserved time for himself.

Well, him and Claudia Henderson, apparently.

Wayne acted quite funny about it. Claimed the woman didn’t take no for an answer and kept bringing food over, kept inviting him for dinner, and at some point, he had grabbed her hand and kissed her cheek and that was that. For a man who wanted to pretend that he wasn’t smitten with her, he surely needed to work on keeping his smile out of his voice during their phone calls.

Eddie was genuinely happy for him, though he had deliberately avoided thinking about what it might mean for him and Dustin. The idea of a smartass little step-brother wasn’t exactly appealing—not that it would be all that different from how Dustin acted already.

That being said… he hadn’t heard from him at all lately. Or any of the other kids, for that matter. It wasn’t exactly surprising, considering they had their own friend group going on and didn’t need Eddie to entertain them, but a small part of him had hoped that maybe, they at least missed him as their DM.

He fiddled with his lighter and tucked his hair behind his ear before lighting his cigarette (he had learned to keep his hair out of the way after burning some of it… four times). He had barely realized he had wandered into the forest until his elbow hit a tree and he apologized.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled, looking back at the tree as if it was going to respond. He was about to face forward again when realization kicked in that it wasn’t a tree he had just walked into. Instead it was some kind of snow sculpture, or an ice sculpture? It surely was really fucking sturdy if it survived that elbow clash.

He walked a few steps backwards to properly observe the statue and noted that it was quite an odd placement, here, in the middle of the woods. Honestly, where did someone even get that much snow? The trees did a good job at shielding most of the ground and it didn’t look like any snow had been scraped whatsoever either. Weird. Eddie looked at the statue, which was surprisingly about his own height and he wondered how he had missed it. Ironically, the snowman was quite a looker. Flowy hair (how did they even manage that?), a strong jawline, muscular but not too muscular. Hmm. He took a step closer to inspect the statue some more and scoffed when he realized something.

The statue looked… familiar.

It reminded him of someone he wanted to forget all about, actually. The amount of time this very person spent at the forefront, sides and back of his mind was actually embarrassing. He didn’t even like the guy. He was just—

“You remind me of someone,” Eddie declared out loud, nodding along to his own statement. “Yeah, some asshole jock I used to go to school with. Didn’t really have personal beef with him, but his friends were fucking awful and well, by association… so is he. Plus, being popular and a jock basically means you’re a dickhead anyway. It’s written in the fucking stars, just like I’m a good for nothing lo—anyway,” Eddie cleared his throat and finally took a first drag of his cigarette.

“I guess someone must really like this guy though, if they make a snow statue of him in the middle of the woods like it’s their dirty little secret. Shame, actually. Bet he’d love the ego boost. Last time I checked his casanova days seemed to be practically over. Not that I care. It’s just obvious when a loud, obnoxious guy like that suddenly isn’t.”

Eddie knew he was talking out of his ass at the ‘loud and obnoxious’ part. If anything, he was talking about his past self there. However, he wasn’t totally wrong about the change of Harrington’s lady magnet wearing off causing some suspicion.

“Anyway… dunno why I’m even talking to you. I’m bored, I guess. My car broke down, had to walk all the fucking way so I figured I’d give myself a nostalgic route through the forest and there you were! Doubt you get a lot of visitors, huh? What am I even saying, maybe you’re like, a day old. Who knows when the fuck they made you, huh?”

He gazed up at the statue again as if expecting a response, but of course none came. Three cigarettes and some nonsensical rambling later, he finally bid the snow statue goodnight and walked home.

Home.

Wayne would always be his home, he figured, whether he still lived there or not. A part of him wasn’t entirely looking forward to seeing Wayne again. He had missed him terribly, but he wasn’t ready for the conversation to lead to New York and what he had been doing over there. Not much to tell really, other than the usual: he had failed to make anything of himself.

The small light on the porch was on when Eddie finally arrived at the trailer and he wondered whether Wayne left it on for him or if he was actually home. He used his key to get inside and let the familiar scent of the trailer hit his nose. It carried a mix of emotions with it, however the good ones always prevailed. He gently closed the door behind him in case Wayne slept, but noticed the door to the bedroom was slightly ajar. Moving closer, he carefully listened for a sound, but there was none. His hand blindly found the lightswitch and to his surprise, the room looked just as he had left it, except with clean sheets.

Eddie walked to the living room and found Wayne’s sofa bed, clearly recently used. It made him wonder whether Wayne had used the bedroom at all ever since he left. Back when Eddie was getting ready to leave for New York, he had reminded Wayne of the fact that he could finally use the bedroom again at last, to which Wayne had joked that his joints might not be ready for the comfort of an actual proper mattress. Now, Eddie just wondered if he had that little faith in him? Expected him back within a month? He never seemed to doubt Eddie’s resolve to move to New York though, at least not back then. Eddie let go of a sigh and walked back to the bedroom to drop his stuff there. Wayne had his habits, and breaking them by sleeping on the couch instead wasn’t gonna be pleasant for him, even if Eddie thought he really should use the bedroom already.

The next morning, Eddie woke up from sounds in the kitchen. When the smell of eggs and bacon hit his nose, he dragged himself out of bed and staggered out of his old room in sweats and a t-shirt. Wayne didn’t look up from the stove, but a smile was evident on his face.

“How come you’re not using the bedroom?” Eddie asked while he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Wayne gave him a short glance before putting the eggs and bacon on their plates.

“That’s one way to say hello,” Wayne mumbled as he turned and sat down at their kitchen table. Eddie joined him.

“Hello,” Eddie said pointedly, “so? Why not?”

Wayne shrugged.

“Been used to sleepin’ on the sofa for so long. Don’t need the extra room.”

“Your back would appreciate it, you know.”

With a roll of his eyes he gestured at Eddie with the nice he was holding.

“Eat your breakfast, son.”

They ate in silence after that. Neither of them were very talkative just after waking up and it was a common agreement that breakfast was meant for eating and less for chit chatting. It felt nice, being back home. Listening to the way Wayne huffed at the blunt knife not doing its job, the creaking sound of the floor whenever he shifted, the inconsistent barking outside from the dog of one of their neighbors.

“So, how’s New York?” Wayne asked. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t talked about it on the phone before, but it had been a year since Eddie had been home. If Eddie was honest, he wanted to hug the man. He had missed him so much. But that wasn’t a common thing. Hugs. They hugged when it mattered. It wasn’t much of a casual thing.

“It’s alright,” Eddie replied casually. “I’m staying with a guy currently, his name’s… Theo. Short for Theodore.”

“A recent thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Since you had to think about his name.”

Right. To be fair, Eddie had only moved in with him last week. It was part of the reason why he hadn’t left anything valuable back there, just in case. Theo seemed like a chill guy, however, many people in New York seemed chill at first. Anyway.

“It’s a recent thing, yeah. Kinda been couch hopping for a while now.”

“I see. You like it there?”

“It’s alright. Just can’t really find my footing yet. It’ll take some time I guess.”

Wayne gave him a look. It had some concern etched in it, and Eddie did not like that one bit. He didn’t want Wayne to worry about him.

“You can always stay here, if you need more time figuring things out.”

“I’m fine, Wayne,” Eddie mumbled, making sure to look at his uncle as he spoke. “I promise.”

He knew he hadn’t convinced him when Wayne stayed quiet and continued to finish his food, but there really wasn’t anything else to say. He was fine.

He was fine.

Later that day, Eddie decided to check on the Hellfire kids. He knew Gareth, Jeff and Doug were out of town, so that left the others. However when he tried to phone their homes, no one picked up. At least not until Dustin.

“Hey, man. What’s up? It’s Eddie. I’m back in town for the holidays and I thought—”

Dustin quickly interrupted him, sounding distracted.

“Oh, hey Eddie, uhm— I’m kinda in the middle of something right now. Is this important?”

Eddie frowned, feeling a pang of disappointment in his chest at Dustin’s indifferent reaction. He knew he wasn’t exactly at the top of anyone’s friend list, but part of him at least thought he was liked enough to be greeted with a little more excitement.

“Uh, no, not really I guess.”

“Ok, cool, I’ll talk to you soon, yeah? Bye!”

Before Eddie could even respond, Eddie heard the dull tone on the other hand signaling that Dustin had hung up already.

“Okay…” he sighed to himself. “Whatever, man.”

Eddie spent most of his afternoon trying to fix his van, partially to have something to do and partially because she deserved better than being neglected in a random parking lot. He hadn’t really thought it through when he parked her there as it was the closest parking lot to get to the bus he needed to get on back then. Thankfully, after about two to three hours, she was gently rumbling again and he could take her back home to Wayne’s.

Wayne had left him a note that he left early for his shift, which for Eddie was code for ‘went to visit Claudia before work’, because Wayne never left a minute earlier or later than he had to when it came to work. Bored out of his mind, Eddie decided to play music for a bit, indulge in some beers and eventually, he figured it was time for a nightly escapade. He rolled a particularly strong joint and set off to find out whether the mystery snowman was still there or not.

It had been stuck in his mind all day, for some reason. He was still curious who had sculpted it, and he wondered if maybe he’d run into them. Or perhaps it was already destroyed. Or some animal peed on it. On a whim, he draped a large red scar around his neck and he set off for the woods. There had been a bit more snowfall during the evening, meaning that the forest path was dusted in white again. He felt it crunch underneath his boots and while he enjoyed it for the first ten minutes, he quickly got annoyed with the strain it put on his legs as he walked. Soon enough though, he came to the clearing where the snowman still stood as he had found him the day before.

“I’m back,” Eddie announced before softly chuckling to himself. He had tried to save the joint for when he arrived but instead had already smoked up most of it on the way out of pure boredom. Safe to say, he was feeling a pleasant buzz already. “Did ya miss me?”

He glanced at the statue and wondered why he hadn’t noticed before that whoever made this snowman hadn’t bothered to give the poor man clothes. In fact, it was awfully detailed, at least until the snowman’s waist. Anything below that was just one big piece of snow. As Eddie leaned in closer, he noticed how his chest actually seemed sort of… textured? A great representation of Harrington’s chest hair, not that he’d known much about it. It even had nipples. The only thing missing, probably, were his distinctive moles. What a wasted opportunity. Those freckles and moles were the best part of the damn guy.

“You know, I said you looked like someone yesterday, right? Asshole jock, that one? The name’s Steve Harrington. Whoever made you is really obsessed with the man because the details of that chest are way too accurate. I mean— anyway. I wonder if this girl’s gonna show him. That would be awkward. Funny, but awkward…”

Eddie took a last hit and flicked the roach somewhere in the snow.

“Don’t think he’s dating that Wheeler girl anymore, so who knows. Maybe she’s got a shot. The one who made this, I mean. Like, I’d be pretty flattered if anyone took the time to recreate me like this. Also creeped out though. Cause… It's pretty insane, right? Fuck I’m rambling. Why would you care? You’re a fucking statue,” Eddie groaned at his own inability to shut up and sat himself down on the ground. He let his hands sink in the snow as he leaned back on them, which he immediately regretted as an icy cold feeling crept up his fingers. He kept his hands there for a good minute before he put them in his lap and rubbed them warm.

“I honestly thought people would be more excited to see me, ya know,” Eddie sighed, unsure why he was still rambling to a damn snowman. “None of the kids picked up and the one that did said that he didn’t have time. I literally was out of town for almost a year. And there wasn’t even a hint of surprise at me being back. It’s like… I mean, clearly he doesn’t give a fuck. And I shouldn’t give a fuck either, but what the hell, man. It kinda sucks.”

Almost as if to prove to himself how stubborn he was, he let himself fall back on the snow and moved his arms and legs around to make a snow angel until he once again remembered that snow was cold. And wet. And he wasn’t wearing enough to handle wet clothes in more places than his butt at the moment. Speaking of his butt, he realized at that moment that it had gone completely numb.

With some effort, he lifted himself off the ground and wiped off some of the snow wherever he could reach it.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then. For some reason I wanna thank you for listening, which is so fucked up. How starved for human contact am I, really? Jesus Christ.”

He waited for a moment, as if he expected the snowman to respond. He adjusted his scarf a little and grimaced at the itchiness. He looked at the naked torso of the snowman and hummed to himself.

“Actually,” he started as he took off the red scarf, “you can have this one. For your modesty or whatever,” Eddie added with a soft chuckle. He draped the scarf around the snowman’s neck and gently secured it at the front. “There. Gorgeous as ever.”

Eddie nodded as he walked away from the snowman.

“Yeah, you heard me. Asshole jock is annoyingly handsome. Too hot for his own good. Such a waste of pretty features.”

Between him and the snowman, he was pretty sure no one believed him at that last part.

Christmas Eve had been wonderful. He had a good talk with Wayne about New York, finally got some more info on Claudia— and apparently Dustin got along well with Wayne too, which filled him with both relief and some envy. Though, when Eddie asked if Dustin had been around when Wayne went to see Claudia, he had said he was out with friends. So at least he was as busy as he claimed to be, in some way. They also played some cards and enjoyed a few too many drinks. Which was why Wayne was already passed out on the couch while Eddie gingerly sipped from another glass of whiskey, enjoying the quiet of his head a little too much to stop.

If only his mind had been quiet enough to not be compelled to go to the snowman again. Really, he had no business there. But for some reason it was nice to just talk to an inanimate object that still represented a human. He’d been smart enough to bring a plastic bag to sit on this time while he rambled on about his failed life in New York. How he wasn’t sure what he was doing, what he wanted, what his next step would be. He talked about anything and everything.

So naturally, Steve Harrington was a topic Eddie couldn’t avoid, one he just had to mention. Again.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Frosty,” Eddie teased as he rounded around the snowman and prodded his pecs. “Y’know, if you were real, I’d probably flirt with you,” he admitted gingerly. “If you were real and not Steve Harrington, that is. I’m not that stupid.”

He sat down with a huff and squinted up at the statue as if he was looking into the sun.

“I feel like we’re on a level where I can be honest with you, right? Those people in New York? Not all girls. Guys too. I’m into both. Which brings me back to you and your insufferable look-a-like. ‘Cause you’re the OG now. I’ve had more conversations with you than I ever did with him. Pretty one-sided still, but you get what I mean.”

Eddie paused for effect, letting it hang in the air for a bit to keep up the suspense.

“He was like, my first guy crush. I’m pretty sure anyway. I used to daydream about him and his stupid hair and how I wanted to grab it and make him look at me with those goddamn beautiful hazel eyes before I’d kiss him. I had never kissed anyone back then, by the way. But strong fantasies do the trick. And well, daydream about the same guy too often and you realize you have a problem, I guess. At least, it was a problem back then. Didn’t love having yet another thing about me that didn’t fit the mold.”

He absently kicked against a branch, which barely moved an inch so he left it at that.

“Now I’m cool with it. I mean, it’s fun. But back then it was torture because it felt like a waste to spend so much time thinking about a straight guy. Like, there was no way this dude was ever gonna be into me. Even if he was into guys. He surely wouldn’t be into me. So yeah. Uh. No one knows about this by the way. I hid this one pretty well if I may say so myself.”

He grimaced and pulled his knees up so he could wrap his arms around them and rest his chin on top of it. It felt good to say all of it out loud for once. Even in New York he had made up a different story, because being into Steve Harrington was something he simply hadn’t been ready to admit out loud. Apparently, now he was. From his inside pocket, he grabbed a flask that he had filled with the remaining whiskey and took a ginger sip.

“Kinda pathetic, isn’t it. Christmas Eve, and I’m sitting here talking to you.” A beat. A soft sigh. “Kinda wish you were real.”

Eddie let his fantasies get the better of him as he sipped from his flask, looking up at the handsome snowman who, by the way, still wore his scarf. With some effort he got back up on his feet, wobbling a little as the alcohol made its way to his brain and slowed him down. He paused when he was right in front of the snowman, staring into its eyes which seemed to stare right back at him, even if the pupils were missing.

“Ah, what the hell.” Eddie leaned forward and pressed a quick, teasing kiss to the snowman’s lips. There. Now he could—

At first, he thought it was raining. He felt droplets land into his hair and on his cheeks, and his clothes felt a little damp until the feeling suddenly evaporated entirely.

Eddie stumbled backwards and blinked his eyes rapidly, wondering if he’d really gone too far on his alcohol consumption this time. But, that couldn’t be, this wasn’t even half of what he would throw back on a good weekend. Or a bad one, depending how you’d look at it.

“Eddie,”

Fuck. Eddie blinked again. Fuck fuck FUCK. His voice was hoarse, sounding a mix of relieved yet confused, and mostly tired. His voice, belonging to Steve Harrington.

Eddie stared at him, took notice of how the snowman was definitely gone and how there was now an actual human standing there. And not just some human. Steve Harrington. Alive. Barefoot. Bare everything, really, except for the red scarf still draped around his neck. Surprisingly it was long enough to do all the way down to his junk. Not that Eddie was looking.

Eddie did the only sensible thing.

He screamed.

The silence that followed Eddie’s scream was deafening, save for the soft sound of snow falling around them. When did it start to snow again anyway? Steve flinched, his hands covering his ears not long before his hands started to do a complete body check, all while Eddie looked like he had seen a monster.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, their breaths coming out in visible puffs of air. Eddie felt like laughing, crying and straight-up bolting and never looking back altogether. Steve visibly shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.

“You were the statue,” Eddie muttered under his breath, and Steve nodded.

“Yup,” he responded, with a weak pop of his P.

“There’s no way. There’s no fucking way. I must have accidentally just ate an entire tray of edibles and not remember or I don’t fucking know—”

“I can explain— sort of. I think. I don’t know the details yet.”

“Yet?! What?”

“It’s uh… kind of a long story,” Steve winced.

“Kind of a long story?” Eddie’s laugh came out shrill, almost hysterical. “You can’t just magically un-snowman yourself and then just say that! Kind of a long story?!”

“Hey! I didn’t magically un-snowman myself! That was your doing! And by the way, I’m not fucking thrilled about this either, alright? I’m freezing my goddamn balls off here.”

Steve tried to let the scarf cover a larger portion of his body but failed to do so. Meanwhile, Eddie had already shrugged off his winter coat and threw it in Steve’s direction.

“The fuck? What do you mean I magically un-snowmanned you?” Eddie almost sounded offended at the mere suggestion, but Steve didn’t have time for that as he quickly put the coat on. It didn’t do much for his lower half, but it was much better than nothing. He sighed contentedly. When Eddie’s eyes met his, he realized he hadn’t answered his question yet.

“You kissed me,” Steve said matter-of-factly.

Eddie felt like his heart stopped. “What?” he asked weakly, “no I didn’t.”

“Yeah, you did.” Steve gestured vaguely at his mouth. “That’s when it happened. You kissed me, and then—poof. Back to normal. Sort of.”

“No fucking way.” Eddie shook his head vigorously, his hair getting even more frizzed in the process. “That wasn’t—it wasn’t even like, a real kiss!” Eddie protested. “How would that…”

“Beats me.” Steve looked around at the clearing, his breath fogging in the cold. “But… uh, thanks, I guess?”

Eddie’s face burned hotter than it ever had in this forsaken gold weather.

“Don’t thank me. I’m not—this isn’t—you were a snowman, Steve.”

Steve couldn’t help but smirk.

“You go around kissing snowmen often? Or just the annoyingly handsome ones?”

Eddie froze.

“Oh no. No, no, nope, I’m out. I gotta— Fuck this is so bad.”

He covered his face with his hands and turned away from Steve as he tried to recall all the things he had told the snowman—told Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “It’s not… that bad.”

Eddie’s mouth turned into a thin line and he shook his head.

“Forget it. Let’s get you uh, home, or something.”

Steve sighed and put his hands deeper in Eddie’s coat. It was actually pretty warm, thanks to Eddie wearing it prior.

“It’s fine, I can get home and I’ll just… I promise to drop the coat off as soon as I’m dressed, alright?”

He was surprised to hear a scoff out of Eddie and looked up, only to be met with soft eyes that were nowhere as loud as the indignant sounds his mouth made.

“I’m not letting you go home alone like this, Harrington. Don’t you know what happens to pretty boys when they show their ankles late at night?” Eddie asked rhetorically, happy to see that it got a smile out of Steve. The last thing he wanted was for Steve to think he was a bother. Which… was uncharacteristic of him in general, wasn’t it? Eddie nodded towards something that once resembled a path.

“It’s that way, right? To your place?”

“Forgive me if I’m a little disoriented right now,” Steve said dryly. Eddie smirked and sat down on the ground as he started to undo his boots. He put them in front of Steve and looked up. For a moment, he needed all his willpower not to look at something else that piqued his interest, only just hidden by the scarf and coat. It was a good thing the coat was a little long on him.

“Try them on?”

Steve wanted to protest, but one look at Eddie convinced him that it would just be a waste of time to have a back and forth with him and so, he picked up a boot and did his best to balance himself against the tree to put one on. Thankfully, it fit. After putting the other one on, he looked at Eddie’s feet. Two mismatching socks, a red and a green one.

“Festive,” Steve said with a nod to the socks.

“What can I say, I am a huge enjoyer of Christmas.”

“Right.”

They started to walk towards Steve home at a gentle pace. The streets were empty, mostly due to the fact that everyone was busy celebrating and that it was also kind of late already. Both of them were grateful for that. They didn’t want to know what people would say or do if they saw them like this. Neither boy said much on the way home. The cold controlled their thoughts more than they liked, with Eddie’s feet being soaking wet and Steve, well. He had never felt so small there. Part of him wondered if it would still work and not just fall off due to frostbite or something.

When they arrived at Steve’s place, he fished a spare key from inside a flowerpot to which Eddie tutted, saying it was too obvious. Steve ignored him and opened the door, only then realizing that the lights were on.

“What the—”

“STEVE! Steve! You’re— but how?! We searched all over for you but you were— Eddie?”

Dustin abruptly stopped talking to stare at Eddie, then back to Steve and back to Eddie again. Eddie noticed that Dustin wasn’t the only one in Steve’s house. In fact, it was an odd combination of people. All the Hellfire kids were there, as well as… Robin? Nancy? And Jonathan? While Steve had been away for at least three days?

“Listen— we can talk this through after I’ve put on some clothes, alright? I would say make yourself at home but… seems like you’re doing just fine,” he said, his expression one that would’ve made Eddie laugh if all of this hadn’t been the weirdest thing he’d ever lived through.

Without waiting for an answer, Steve ascended the stairs stiffly, only to turn around halfway and look at Eddie.

“You coming?”

And if that didn’t cause a great mixture of facial expressions, including Eddie’s. However, he nodded wordlessly and quickly followed Steve upstairs. He followed Steve right into the bathroom and then realized maybe he shouldn’t have, because Steve suddenly dropped the coat and took off the scarf and Eddie’s shoes without a second thought and jumped into the shower. Right in front of him. Like it was nothing. Must be a remnant of being a jock and being naked around other guys all the time, Eddie supposed. But wait—

Eddie had confessed that he was into guys, which apparently, Steve had been able to hear as well. And Steve wasn’t… weird about it? Yet? So what did that—

“Hey, Eddie, could you uh, maybe grab some clothes in my room? I was so focused on not being cold that I kinda forgot.” Steve was only a blur now, with the steam fogging up the glass wall between them. “Grab some for yourself as well, whatever you need.”

“Uh… okay,” Eddie said hesitantly, swallowing the question why Steve wanted him upstairs. Probably just to give him socks, he realized later. It felt illegal to be in Harrington’s (he needed to keep him at a mental distance) lair, though it hadn’t been the first time he had been up there. He remembered one party where he had gone up to this room after selling all his stuff and then laying down on Harrington’s bed for a couple minutes before a couple footsteps made him bolt right out again veeeery quickly. Anyway, back to business.

Eddie rummaged through the drawers to find some clean socks for both, a pair of underwear for Ste— Harrington, and managed to find a sweater (a Christmas one) and some black sweatpants for him. He took off his own wet socks and figured he’d just let them air dry while he waited outside of the bathroom. After about five more minutes, Steve emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist and looked startled when Eddie was right in front of him.

“Oh— Here you are. Why didn’t you just come in? Don’t you gotta dry your feet?”

Eddie shrugged.

“It’s fine. Uh, here.” He quickly handed Steve his clothes, who this time at least had the decency to go back in the bathroom to put it all on. Eddie took the opportunity to put on the dry pair of socks and was only a little annoyed with how good they felt on his feet. Rich people and their quality socks… Once Steve came back out, he had a funny look on his face and pointed at his sweater.

“Really?”

“I mean, someone’s gotta be festive, my socks are swapped now, so…”

“Right.” Steve looked in the direction of the stairs and bit down on his bottom lip. “Uh… about that thing that happened in the woods—”

“I won’t tell a soul.”

Steve frowned and waved at him dismissively. “Not that, I mean, the snowman thing. There’s uh… I don’t know how to explain this in under five minutes, but there’s this other dimension and there’s some weird evil shit happening there and now this, creature, whatever it is, started to turn people into statues. We have no idea how many people it has happened to, I mean, I froze shortly after Lucas did, so I don’t know much… Anyway, it’s gonna be a lot to take in, alright? But I promise you’re not going insane, it’s all real, we’ve all uh, kinda been here before.”

Steve had rushed out the words so fast that Eddie’s ears were ringing. He blinked a couple times, figured a nod would suffice and looked up at Steve again.

“Right… okay. And everyone downstairs is involved?”

Steve nodded.

“Kind of, not on purpose or anything. I’m sure you’ll hear the full story at some point from one of us. ‘Cause… you’re in this now. You can try to forget this shit but you won’t. Just be happy you haven’t seen anything severe.”

“Sounds ominous,” Eddie remarked.

“Yeah, well. It is,” Steve replied matter-of-factly. “Wanna go back downstairs?”

“Sure…”

“So… what. It’s gone now?” Steve asked. Dustin had explained what he had missed out on the past week or so and he had brought Eddie up to speed with the remaining bits that were relevant for now. Apparently El (who Eddie hadn’t even noticed before) had used her superpowers (whatever that meant) to freeze the guy, creature, thing, in return and that was that.

“Yup, and I think everyone should be fine. I mean, Lucas immediately came to and I guess you must have too, since you’re suddenly back here?” Dustin asked. He glanced over to Eddie and he could tell he had a million questions about how him and Steve somehow became a duo, but he seemed to restrain himself.

“Uh, oh. Yeah, I guess so,” Steve replied vaguely, glancing over at Eddie briefly before avoiding his gaze again. “By the way, Eddie found me. So, that’s why he’s here. Which brings me to the question… how the hell did you guys get in here?”

“You don’t hide your spare key well enough,” Max shrugged.

“But it was right where I left it?”

“Well, duh. Where else would we put it?” Mike interjected, immediately making Steve want to roll his eyes. He glanced over at Nancy and Jonathan, who sat huddled close together on the couch.

“So everyone’s okay?” he asked, looking at Nancy, then Robin. The latter nodded.

“At least those that we knew of.”

“And… that monster or whatever isn’t gonna melt itself or something?” Eddie asked softly, glancing over at El, who shook her head.

“He won’t,” she said confidently. Man, Eddie wishes he was that confident about this all.

They talked for a little longer, but eventually decided it would be best if everyone would get some sleep, especially Lucas and Steve considering their situation. Nancy and Jonathan had come with separate cars, so there was enough room to take them all home. When Eddie tried to sneak out the door, muttering some joint goodbyes along with the others, Steve stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Your stuff’s still upstairs,” he said softly, although Eddie had a vague feeling that Steve cared very little about that right now.

“Oh, right…”

Dustin turned his head towards them suspiciously as Jonathan drove out of the driveway and Steve simply gave him a quick wave before closing the door behind them.

“So.”

“So…” Eddie repeated.

“Guess it wasn’t some sleeping beauty meets prince type of situation,” Steve mumbled, and he sounded almost disappointed. Eddie smirked and crossed his arms while looking at Steve intently.

“Yeah, no fairytale for us, I suppose.”

Steve hummed softly and moved a little closer. Eddie tried to keep his distance, but Steve was relentless and patient in his slow chase, moving closer until Eddie hit the back of the couch and grabbed onto it for support, less he’d topple over backwards and that would be way too embarrassing.

“You said that if I was real, you’d flirt with me,” Steve reminded him while teasing his finger gently along a lost strand of Eddie’s hair.

“I’m also pretty sure I mentioned I’m smart enough not to go for a straight guy,” Eddie reminded him in return. He tried to control his heart palpitations and failed terribly, especially when Steve smiled slowly, leaned in even closer to the point that Eddie could feel tiny droplets of water land in his neck from Steve’s hair.

“You’re into both,” Steve said. “Why can’t I?”

“I mean… you’re Steve Harrington,” Eddie said weakly.

“Mhm. And you’re Eddie Munson,” Steve said with a nod, “the guy who spent three nights in a row, or at least, I think they were nights, visiting a snowman that resembled me, Steve Harrington, and poured his heart out to him, it, whatever, and then kissed me—it.”

“Did you…’ Eddie started, and he looked over at the door. He was ready to run if he had to. Ready to escape the wrath that was about to be bestowed upon him if he spoke these thoughts out loud. “Did you like it?”

Steve cocked his head with a smile and lifted one shoulder casually.

“I don’t know. It was a little short, and my mind was kind of occupied with other things. I could be a better judge this time around.”

“This—This time around?” Eddie stammered.

“Unless you don’t want to, I mean, after all, you had a lot of things to say about me.”

“Harrington— I mean, Steve, I— I didn’t mean it like that. The things I said… I was just rambling. I would never say that stuff about you if you were within hearing distance, ‘cause it’s not… true. I know you’re a good guy and—”

“Eddie.”

“Yes…?”

Eddie looked up at Steve, who suddenly seemed a little taller for some reason, towering over him as his hand moved to cup his jaw, thumb grazing his cheekbone softly. He searched his eyes for anything, anything that would explain what was happening because surely Steve wasn’t about to kiss—

Steve was kissing him.

Steve Harrington was kissing him.

Steve Harrington was kissing Eddie Munson.

On the mouth, no less.

Eddie wasted about half a minute before he regained enough composure to kiss him back. It was hesitant, shy, almost. Steve giggled into the kiss and gave him a few pecks in between.

“C’mon,” he urged him softly, sweetly. “Gimme a real kiss already.”

Eddie did.

He grabbed Steve’s face with both hands, stood up straight, and nudged him back until Steve’s shoulders hit the wall. Their tongues danced, fighting for dominance, as Steve smiled into the kiss. Eddie shifted, planting his hands on either side of Steve's head and threading their fingers together, grounding them both in the moment.

Suddenly, Eddie pulled back. Steve looked at him with a dazed expression and when Eddie dropped his hands, he held onto his waist instead.

“Eddie…?”

“Wait—” Eddie said, even as he leaned into Steve’s touch. “I’m still kinda drunk, right? So I gotta know that this,” he gestured between them, “is real.”

Steve visibly relaxed and gently squeezed his waist.

“It’s real,” Steve almost whispered, thumbs circling Eddie’s shirt. “We’ve got some catching up to do, but it’s all real.”

“You don’t uh, hate me for the things I said?”

“You kept me sane in there. And a little humbled, but that’s alright,” Steve teased with a grin. “If it wasn’t for you being there… I think I would’ve gone insane.”

“Sorry for only visiting so little then,” Eddie mumbled. “In my defence, I thought you were just a very detailed snowman.”

“Oh, right. Something about my chest hair? You mentioned how accurate it was, or something.”

Eddie’s cheeks immediately turned visibly pink.

“Shut up,” Eddie said quickly, “shut up right now.”

Steve shook his head and smiled.

“Nah.” He paused. “Unless you make me.”

Eddie smirked as Steve wiggled his eyebrows cheekily at him. How could he ever turn down an offer like that?

Of course he kissed him.

Hope you liked it! If you did, a reblog would be most appreciated. :) That's how the work can travel to other eyes after all! Would love to hear your thoughts whatsoever. And uh, Merry early Christmas!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #christmas #stranger things fanfic #joe keery #joseph quinn

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skerban · 1 year ago

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Cafe at Home…

𖤐 Mike Schmidt x reader

[masterlist]

Felt like writing for him… i need him.

Being a good friend of Mike Schmidt, you decide to make him breakfast and make him coffee just so he doesn’t have to feel stressed :( you’ve already taken care of everything else and Mike needs the day off before work!

You rarely visited Mike, all because of a schedule change in your job.

You used to work nights at a local cafe you worked for, considering the owner trusted you enough to keep the cafe open at night, yet you still managed.

But you finally were able to get the day off, and the messages you received from mike were… incredibly concerning.

The last message you got back from him was weeks ago. You didn’t want to pry but you just wanted to make sure he was at least alright and why he was not responding to you.

At this point, you’ve given up trying to contact him, instead aiming to go over to his house instead. You thought it seemed a bit childish, but you wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself.

You got up early, at five to be exact, because Mike’s house wasn’t…. necessarily near. You got dressed in something comfortable, a pair of baggy pants and a random shirt from your closet. You quickly put your shoes on, before grabbing your keys while putting on your coat, and making your way to the front door. You opened it and closed it behind you, locking it before you made your way to your car.

Finally getting in your car, you made sure that you didn’t forget anything. You had your keys, phone, and whatever else you needed.

Driving to his house made your heart race, not out of anxiety but… his reaction. Hell, you haven’t even spoken to him for weeks!

Before you even realized it, you were already at his house, you pulled into the driveway, noticing his car was untouched. The usual Mike, you thought.

You turned your car off and took the keys out of the engine. Taking a breath in and exhaling, you grabbed your stuff, finally exiting your vehicle.

Making your way to his front door wasn’t as bad as you thought. You remembered he had told you if you ever wanted to come over, he would leave a spare key under the door mat. You bent down and lifted the mat in front of you. You grabbed it and put it into his lock, turning it and pulling it out when it finally unlocked.

You kept the spare key on you, just in case someone saw you with it… you couldn’t afford someone breaking into Mike’s house…

When you entered the house, and closing the door behind you, you took your shoes off and out them next to the front door. You let out a sigh at how empty the place looked.

You had suggested to Mike to put some decorations and he made fake promises that he would, but you couldn’t get mad at him for not doing so.

When you made your way to the kitchen, you opened the fridge. You had to move back at the sight, your brows scrunching. There was barely anything, but you knew you could make well with it.

You opened the small pantry in the corner, looking for the ingredients to make what you personally liked, pancakes.

Taking your coat off and hanging it on of the seats near the dining table, you put your hair up, and took out all of the ingredients. Quickly washing your hands, and there they went to work.

You wanted to make sure you weren’t making too much of a commotion, not exactly wanting to wake up Abby or Mike.

You looked at the time on the oven, before realizing you had taken way longer than you thought. It was only 7:46. You knew Abby had to go to school soon, but you were positive Mike was still asleep. You made a small batch of pancakes, saving the rest of ingredients for Mike when he woke up.

While you put the a small bit of the batter onto the pan, you took a step back, and made your way to where Abby’s room was, at least where you think it was.

You made sure to be quiet when entering her room, before gently waking her up. You whispered out that you made her something to eat in the morning. You smiled as she got out of bed, as you quickly made your way to the kitchen.

You eventually finish only two pancakes, and they didn’t look too presentable, but they would still work, you think.

You ket Abby eat and you talked with her for a bit, before finally getting ready to take her to school. The school wasn’t far and you were sure Mike would still be sleeping when you go back.

You drove your car and gave small talk with Abby, asking her things like; How was she? How was Mike? If anything special happened.

You listened to her before you finally pulled up to the school. You gave her a small hug in the car, before she got out and waved out towards you. You smiled and waved back, waiting a minute or two before finally pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to Mike’s home.

Arriving back at his home, letting yourself in again, and making the pancakes again was a delight. You hadn’t baked or.. well made any sort of dessert for anyone or even for yourself in years. You’re a barista not a baker.

With time, you made the batter again, pouring some of the smooth batter onto the hot pan. You let out a small sigh before you looked towards the living room, somewhat expecting Mike to come out from the corner.

You’d never admit it, but, you truly care about Mike. You didn’t know if it was out of love or just as friends.. maybe even family. You felt something in you that only happened with him, yet you always brushed it aside.

You quickly shook your head before you turned your attention back at the pancakes. You continued to make more and more, the scent from the dessert spreading around the house.

As you were making the dessert, you heard small footsteps, making your heart pound against your chest.

“(reader)..?” The familiar low-pitched voice spoke out. You paused and looked over your shoulder, looking at the one and only Mike.

You smiled and closed your eyes, “Hey Mike.” You held in your laughter as his brows scrunched, clearly confused.

“You weren’t responding to my messages.. so i thought i’d give you a small visit.” You gave a nervous laugh before going back to the pancakes, the bowl that was once filled with batter, now empty.

He let out a small groan as he rubbed his eyes, “I..I know.. its just—“

“I know.” You interrupted him, turning the stove off and looking at the plate of… presentable pieces of desserts.

You grabbed a plate and put it onto the table, near the kitchen, and motioned for him to sit.

He looked guilty, but that was because he felt sorry for not responding to you, yet you only cared if he was alright.

“Serve yourself.” You smiled and sat in front of him, not bothering to get a piece to eat.

He looked at the plate of pancakes and back at you, his eyes practically judging you, or.. well you think.

“I know— I know. Im a barista… my pancakes aren’t going to look.. that well.” You rambled out, crossing your arms, and scoffing.

He quickly shook his head and let out a small laugh, “Not that. You aren’t going to eat?”

Your eyes widened slightly, looking at him, before your cheeks slightly flushed.

“I.. I ate before i got here and— don”t laugh at my pancakes—!” You hissed out, clearly embarrassed by the misconception you made.

He only chuckled before serving himself.

You only watched in silence before tapping your fingers against the smooth surface, letting your eyes glide to a different part of the room.

“Mike, is there a specific reason to why you stopped… talking to me?” Your voice quiet, almost inaudible, yet the man in front of you managed to hear it. He looked up from his plate, looking at you, before turning his gaze back to his half-empty plate.

You kept your eyes on him, wanting to know if you did something wrong.

He gave a sigh and brought one of his hands to rub the side of his head. “It.. it’s hard to explain, (reader).”

“Then help me understand.” You pleaded before you turned your gaze to your hands in your lap.

“I get it if you,” you paused before shaking your head, “i get it if you don’t want to talk with me anymore. But.. you could’ve atleast told me something.”

He let out a shaky sigh, “No..no that’s not it.” He rubbed his temples, trying to put words into his mouth to explain it properly to you.

You waited patiently, wanting him to give at least a small explanation.

“It’s just.. personal things and work.” His voice was quiet, “I didn’t want to… i didn’t want to put my problems with you.” He finally got out.

Oh, so he didn’t hate you.

You gave a relieved sigh before you looked him with stern eyes. “You know you can ask me for help anytime, whether its with work or.. just anything!” Your voice slightly rose yet you made sure to stay calm.

He only looked up at you before nodding. Your face fell as you looked at the guilt covering his face. You got up and put a hand onto his shoulder.

“You can have the whole morning off, and.. we can spend the day doing what we used to do, okay?” You smiled as he turned his head to look at you, his eyes going from your hand to you.

“But Abby—“

“She’s already at school, don’t worry.”

He let out a small breath before giving a small smile.

You two spent the whole morning binge watching movies and reenacting good ‘ol times. Yes, Abby was picked up and you took care of her while Mister Mike Schmidt went to work.

mike just needs a break :( and yes i know pancakes aren’t dessert but.. for the sake of this they are

reminder that requests are opened ^_^

#josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #michael schmidt

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julianalvarez9 · 2 years ago

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acting on it / martin ødegaard

author's note: been avoiding writing smut for this man for ages. i started this back when arsenal played liverpool so it's been A WHILE. not proofread bc i just needed to get it out quick. needless to say this isn't real, don't know the real reason why they took him out so yeah, fiction :)

warnings: smut with plot. badly translated norwegian pet names (?, kinda hair pulling, kinda choking, kinda public sex (they could get walked in anytime) ¿?

wc: 2k words

summary: suggesting to take martin out of the game to avoid any serious injury backfires when he blames you for being subbed off.

"why did you tell him to take me out?".

you knew this talk would be coming, but still, the loud thud when the norwegian shut the door a bit too hard startled you. the draw was rough for everyone at arsenal, and at some point, felt almost like a loss. the players got into the dressing room with their heads hung low after clapping for the fans, and apart from some encouraging pats on the back, you didn’t really get to talk to anyone in particular.

you saw how angry martin had left the pitch when arteta decided to take him off, but he hadn’t said anything: of course he hadn’t. he was a good captain, and he wouldn’t ever question the gaffer’s decisions. at least, not publicly.

but under the anger, he knew it was a good decision: he wasn’t asking for the ball and leading his team like he used to do at every game. like he was supposed to. he knew his performance was below average, but he refused to attribute it to the minor discomfort he had during the week. he was fine during warm ups and the entire first half. he couldn’t afford to get injured now, at this point.

being seated during the last ten minutes of the match was the worst thing for him. seeing how the win slipped through their fingers felt like a knife being turned on his stomach. and even if martin knew they still had the top position secured, the lead they had against city was cut short, and they hoped it wouldn’t be something they turned to regret at the end of the line.

martin was observant, not only off the pitch, but during games, too. he frequently saw the bench, awaiting for instructions offered by the manager or movement in the sidelines, signaling some players being subbed in. when he saw you, the team’s physio, talking to arteta, he knew he would be the player to be taken off.

“you were only meant to play 60 minutes, martin. you played 80,” you reasoned. before the game, you had been consulted how many minutes was the norwegian able to play, without risking an injury. knowing martin, you were sure that he wouldn't appreciate being subbed off if there was still a match being played, but you were aware that mikel was considering the bigger picture -there were still games that needed to be won, and it would be immensely more difficult if they were without the norwegian on the pitch. you understood arteta's worries about his key player being sidelined for way too long if he were to make the matters worse.

he wasn't happy with your response, but he didn't say anything else: he stayed in the way of the door, impeding the way out, whether intentionally or not, trapping you in the room with him. the frown is still visible on his features, glooming his usual prince charming looks for something darker, almost malicious. you think that he's maybe transported back to the game, reliving again and again what went wrong, and you try to ease his worries. "not everything is your fault, you know? you have to take care of yourself first”.

he scoffed. "i'm the captain. everything is my fault".

at this point, you've grown tired. all you want to do is finish packing your things, and get home as fast as possible. but the presence of the norwegian is stopping you from completing the checklist you have in hand. "what do you want me to do, ødegaard? i’m doing my job, which is to keep you all healthy," you say, while finishing to check the last thing you had on the list, assuring that you aren't forgetting anything. you throw the little notepad to the desk, while sitting on the empty space, as martin watches your every movement like a hunter keeping track of his prey. "you can't play 90 minutes every three days: you need to rest, or you'll get a serious injury. if you have any problems with it, talk to arteta”.

you're mirroring the frown he had for the last five minutes, and martin can't stop thinking about how cute you look while trying to act mad at him. "quit the attitude. i'm supposed to be mad, not you".

now it's your turn to scoff. "you are making me mad by trying to take your frustrations on me, like i'm in the wrong for doing my fucking job".

"if you think this is me taking my frustrations on you-” his blue eyes turn almost dark gray, and martin takes big, rushed steps towards your figure, making his wider frame tower over yours. he lifts his hand, brushing a string of hair that had fallen from your makeshift ponytail behind your ear, and his hand rest softly on the side of your neck, with his palm surely covering half of your skin.

he looks for hesitation in your eyes, something that would tell him to back off, but he can't find any. instead, your breath is ragged, and you're trying really hard to keep eye contact with him while trying not to visibly shut your legs in a way that lets you ease some of the tension. "this would be me taking my frustrations on you," he corrects, now his thumb resting across your neck, restricting your airflow but just slightly.

you're not sure if you feel dizzy because this is what you wanted all along, ever since you've crossed paths with the norwegian, or due to how intoxicating you find his touch: either way, you gasp for air, and it has martin smiling wickedly, in a form you haven't really seen before. "oh, does my pretty girl like being choked?".

the whine you emit is, surely, pathetic, but it fires something inside of him. his grab on your neck is a bit rougher after hearing the sweetest sound he had only dreamed of hearing, but it’s not enough to worry you about the possible marks he could be leaving. still, you can feel it, just as you can feel the desk behind you that would not really leave you any space to escape, if you wanted to. but you don't want to, although you probably should remember where you're at, that you're working and he's a player.

the smallest glimpse of reality comes back to your senses when you hear a sort of commotion outside, and you're cut back from his spell, just barely. "martin, we-".

he hears the hesitation in your voice, and is quick to lure you back in, his kisses leaving a wet trail under his way. "i know we can't. and i know we don't have enough time. but i need this, i need you. will you let me?. the way he's whispering in your ear makes your skin flourish in goosebumps, joined by how he's nudging at your neck, while smelling your perfume, driving you mad. he realizes when the smallest whimper leaves your lips and is proud of his doing, showing by the way it oozes out of his mouth when he whispers "that's my good girl".

your hands are quick to find their way under his shirt, having the chance to feel the toned abs you've never dared to look at before while trying to keep up with the feverish kisses shared between you two. the second his mouth trails down to your collarbone, you slip a playful "eager, aren't we?" when you realize his hard on pressed against your leg. "could say the same about you," he bites back, after his leg graces your center and you're eager to rub yourself against it.

you two don’t even get to take your clothes fully before he slides into you. his right hand is covering your mouth, helping you in silencing the moans that seem impossible to contain, while he isn’t much better at keeping quiet. especially, when your hands are pulling on his blonde hair, driving him crazy. you’re coming undone under him, and martin can’t help but groan at the sight of you, a wreck for him, while taking him so well.

through his grunts, he can barely manage to warm "not gonna last long if you keep on squeezing me like that, kjaere," but it’s to no use, given that you’re still clenching on him tightly, your warm walls swallowing his length fully as he snaps his hips in and out of you in a relentless pace. the desk underneath you shakes with force, given that you’re perched against it while trying to stay on your feet.

it’s not long before your whole body is shaking under his frame, as his left hand lifts your leg up, now hugging him by his waist in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. you let out another moan that gets muffled by the hand he still has over your mouth, and you’re grateful for it, because in your hazy mind filled with pleasure, you can’t mute your sounds as your orgasm approaches.

“where?” he asks, looking deep into your eyes to ensure you won’t be too loud, before freeing your lips to speak. your voice comes out hoarse when you reply where you want him to cum. “i-inside, please-”.

the norwegian has to crush his mouth to yours in a bruising, hard kiss, before his sounds are the ones that alert the outside world of what's happening in your little workspace. his bruising pace fails when he's on the edge, and a soft moan that slips out of you and directly onto his ear makes him lose it. he's deep into you, coating your insides which provoques your own frenzy to disinvolve.

everything gets too much for you, and you’re not sure you can wrap your mind around your surroundings, but martin keeps you afloat, holding your figure flush against him. "hey, you're okay, i'm here," he reassures, his soft touch grazing your cheek in a loving way when he sees your eyes glaze over. it's purely because of the mind shattering orgasm you just experienced, but he cares, wants to know you're okay. the gesture is intimate, certainly feels almost more intimate than the moment you've just shared, and once you reassure him that you're okay, he kisses the crown of your hair before proceeding to dress himself properly.

"you like the armband, right? i'm bringing it next time," martin shows his million dollar smile before picking his shirt from the floor, and puts it again in a quick motion, smothering the creases in hopes that no one that sees him leaving your office could figure out what went down between you two.

"already thinking about the next time, ødegaard?".

the door knock startles you both, and breaks the atmosphere previously held in the four walls. his hair is a bit messy after you pulled endlessly from the locks not even five minutes ago, but he makes a quick move to tame it, passing his long fingers through his gold strands and setting it in place, exactly how he likes it, before you open the door to find just the one person that you didn’t want to see.

"oh, i knew you'd still be here," arteta calls upon seeing you, still in the secluded area you work in. he doesn't find it weird that you remain here, knowing that you’re the first one to arrive and the last one to leave, just like he is. instead, his eyes furrow when he sees better into your eyes, still a bit glassy.

"martin, did you make her cry?".

his hands are in his pockets, trying to hide off the tent still present in his joggings. it doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to gather a believable enough excuse, and you’re kinda impressed about it, figuring that he might have thought about this more than you thought. "she was upset about the game" he explained, lips pursed without giving out much emotion, quite like how you saw him answer the interviews he did post-match. "told her to not worry too much. we'll win next time,” martin smiled, turning his stare to you now. “for you, right?".

#martin ødegaard x reader #martin ødegaard x you #martin ødegaard imagine #martin odegaard x you #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard imagine #football imagine #football x you #football smut #football x reader

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inawickedlittletown · 7 months ago

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Rather Be The Hunter Than The Prey (BuckTommy) - 3/3

Summary: Buck doesn't tell Tommy immediately about the big change at the 118. Tommy decides to do something about it.

Author's note: Title comes from Natural by Imagine Dragons.

Everyone on Ao3 wanted a part two for the little coda I wrote post-episode 7x10. And I guess I did too. So now it's a three parter.

Part One - Part Two

Read on Ao3

“No,” Buck said. “Tommy, this is a horrible idea. You don’t know her.”

Buck hadn’t even really told Tommy much about Taylor. Most of the LAFD knew her, though. If not for breaking the story about Jonah, then because of the book. She’d made her name in other ways too and Buck hated whenever he spotted her at a call or when he turned a tv on and she was on. He had succeeded in avoiding her for so long and didn’t want to bring her back now.

“I’m just saying that we need her because she crosses lines. She’ll pursue the story once she knows there is one and she can help us take out Gerrard.”

Buck didn’t think that Tommy really understood who Taylor was. He had listened to Tommy’s whole plan. He’d even taken notes as Tommy detailed everything he set in motion. He knew that Tommy was making sense, he was just a little wary about Taylor. He’d already made the mistake of trusting her in the past and this time around, they couldn’t afford her to go off the rails even if that was maybe exactly what they were counting on.

“I guess maybe she does owe me one,” Buck said. “I’ll call and see if she will come meet with us.”

“That’s all I ask,” Tommy said, smiling at him in a way that made Buck want to kiss him and maybe even drag him back up the stairs to his bed.

He called after breakfast and after they had cleaned up his kitchen. Tommy was at his side, offering support. At least, Buck wasn’t the only one that had had to talk to an ex this morning.

“Buckley, why are you calling me?” Taylor said.

“Hey, Taylor,” Buck said. “I, uh, I was hoping we could meet up.”

She laughed at him. “If this is some kind of booty call, I’m not interested.”

“No…no, nothing like that. I’m…I’m dating someone. Listen, it’s about a story you could report on. It’s better if we explain in person. Are you free at all today?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said after a pause. “I can be. What kind of story are we talking about?”

“Getting an awful man out of a job that puts him in a position of power that could determine life or death,” Buck said.

“Oh,” Taylor said. “That sounds…yeah, I can meet up.”

They set up a time and Taylor agreed to meet at the loft even though Buck thought it might be weird for her. It didn’t seem to be probably exactly because of who Taylor was. He’d already piqued her interest and now nothing else mattered.

It was a few hours later when Taylor knocked on his door. Buck braced himself for seeing her again. Then, he walked over to open the door. She was still Taylor. Her red hair was in loose ringlets that framed her face in a way that made her approachable and cute. She did look awkward for a moment, but then she smiled.

“Hi.”

“Uh, hi,” Buck said, letting her in. “Come in. Do you want a drink?”

“Water,” she said and headed straight for the table, where she deposited her purse. “So what exactly is this—” Taylor trailed off.

Holding the glass of water in hand, Buck turned. Taylor was turned towards the stairs where Tommy was making his way down. Buck almost laughed, because in a way he was getting used to seeing the reaction that people had to Tommy. He couldn’t blame them — couldn’t blame Taylor — Tommy was certainly eye-catching.

He set her glass of water on the table and that seemed to break the spell. She immediately turned to him, question in the raise of her eyebrow.

“Tommy, Taylor’s here,” Buck said.

“Thought I heard the door,” Tommy said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. “Casey says everyone he got in touch with is in.”

“Taylor, this is Tommy,” Buck said.

“Hi,” Tommy said.

Tommy offered his hand and Taylor shook it. She looked thrown and though Buck had seen Taylor in many different forms and states, this was still somewhat new.

“Take a seat,” Tommy said. “Evan can start explaining.”

“Right,” Buck said and he motioned for Taylor to sit. She did, watching Buck carefully.

“Bobby got replaced at the 118 through a series of circumstances,” Buck said and he explained it all, knowing that he was probably leaving out more than he should.

Taylor drank some of her water before speaking once Buck was done. “Sounds like an asshole to me,” she said. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Well,” Tommy said, taking his own seat. “We were hoping that you would help us expose Gerrard for exactly who he actually is.”

Taylor leaned back in her chair. “You know, the last time I did a profile on the 118, the department shut it down. Made it into a fluff piece.”

“And yet you still managed to use your connection to Evan to get that story on Greenway out, putting his job and reputation at risk,” Tommy said.

Buck inhaled. He hadn’t expected Tommy to bring that up.

Taylor had the decency to look contrite. She didn’t even try to defend herself. She did look from Tommy to Buck and back again.

“Defensive, I like it,” she said in the end.

“You also published an unapproved book about the LAFD,” Tommy pointed out. “I have the approval, or at least the consent of the Assistant Fire Chief,” Tommy revealed. “Well, to an extent.”

“Who even are you?” Taylor shot back.

“My boyfriend,” Buck answered.

Taylor laughed and laughed and then she clapped her hands. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming. Maybe I should have, come to think of it. Alright, boys, I guess count me in.”

It took a very long two weeks for everything to be worked out. Every shift that Buck had leading up to it made him antsy. He was glad when everything was finally in place.

Chief Williams scheduled Taylor’s stop by the 118, including the invitation for Tommy to be there. She also made sure that Chief Simpson was available. Buck had helped to set up cameras to capture everything that went on with Gerrard in the time leading up to the interview. He’d had to be a bit sneaky about it, but Taylor had provided everything they needed. At Tommy’s instruction, he didn’t share their plan with anyone. It meant that the cameras captured everything as organically and as genuinely as they happened.

Gerrard making a limp hand motion at Buck was right there as clear as day. Gerrard making a comment about Hen only lasting for so long because she was practically a man. His dismissiveness of Chim’s contributions as a paramedic when they lost someone on the way to the hospital. The way he berated Ravi and said stuff about how the department was going nowhere with the diversity hires. All of it was captured on camera and more. So much more.

Eddie, Hen, and Chim thought it was ridiculous that Taylor Kelly was coming to interview them. Gerrard shared the news after returning from a call. Buck had to pretend that he was upset about it too and when Gerrard got wind that she was Buck’s ex-girlfriend, it seemed to make him want her there more.

Buck had never seen him more welcoming of anyone, the way Gerrard was with Taylor. It was yet another big difference between him and Bobby. He treated Taylor like an honored guest, offering her coffee and water and showing her around with warmth that made him seem fatherly — or maybe grandfatherly considering his age. It was eerie. It almost made Buck doubt that the plan would work.

Taylor took her time. Buck hated her a little for it, for how she asked them about the rescue of Bobby and Athena and how it felt to be rewarded for it. He could see how Hen and Chim took it all in as much good humor as they could muster. Eddie was monosyllabic.

Then, she singled out Gerrard.

“This is so pointless,” Chim said.

They were in the kitchen. Buck had sort of steered them there. Hen had been throwing him a few looks as if she suspected something. Meanwhile, Taylor was with Gerrard, cameras pointed at him. She was keeping things light at first.

Chief Williams and Chief Simpson hadn’t arrived. It was possible they wouldn’t, but Buck hoped they would.

Tommy got there and they all saw how Gerrard stiffened when he walked up the stairs.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic. Well, some kind of demonstration outside. I think some people heard there were reporters here today.”

“Some people?” Hen asked.

Tommy didn’t answer. Buck just hoped the live feed was working, they’d figured it was better if Gerrard didn’t know other people were there to see it all.

At the table, Gerrard suddenly stood up. “What kind of question is that?” he said, louder than necessary. “Things were better when people knew their place. None of the quotas for diversity that need to be met so no one gets their tiny little feelings hurt.”

“I just thought it’d feel great to have such an inclusive firehouse,” Taylor said. “To lead the 118 which I know is quite diverse and doesn’t look like what the fire department even in LA looked like in the past.”

Gerrard just stared at her.

“Of course, I do know you aren’t happy that diversity exists,” Taylor said. “I wonder why take the job at this house at all.”

“What are you talking about, girl?”

“I’m talking about how you act around the people you are supposed to lead. The very same people that literally run into fires to protect the public who you in turn are supposed to support and protect and lead.”

Gerrard didn’t respond. His jaw was tightening.

“Earlier today I posted a little preview for the interview. Just some of the things I’ve uncovered along with the many many complaints made against you by your own firefighters. Some investigating into your placement here also revealed a few things I’ll be looking into after this.”

Buck watched Taylor a little bit in awe. Tommy was at his side and he felt the heat of him from how close they were standing. Ordinarily they wouldn’t stand so close, but it was nice to just rub it in, especially when Gerrard looked their way. How he glared at them like his eyes could set them on fire.

“She’s really a spitfire, isn’t she,” Tommy said.

“That wears off,” Buck said.

“What?”

“Being impressed by her.”

Tommy laughed.

“What is happening right now?” Ravi asked.

“Someone needed to take out the trash,” Tommy said.

“You said people were here?” Hen asked.

“Do you know how many queer first responders there are in LA?” Tommy asked.

It all happened quickly, in a way. Gerrard responded with anger and vitriol and demands that Taylor take her videos down once his demands to see them brought Taylor’s tablet out and ready. It wouldn’t even matter if she took them down, though, not with the reach that Taylor had these days and not with the work that had been put into getting them out into the wider public. Buck had even gotten Josh to share it over the dispatch twitter.

Gerrard was still demanding Taylor take the videos off when he seemed to then realize that the videos had come from inside the firehouse. That’s when he turned on them. Rushing towards them, face red in anger. His eyes seemed to narrow on Tommy and Buck and how close they stood. Buck almost moved away, but Tommy didn’t let him.

“Which one of you?” He asked. “Putting cameras in here without anyone’s consent? Spying! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Who do you think you are?” Chim asked.

“I’m your Captain,” Gerrard ground out.

“Bobby is our Captain,” Hen said.

Gerrard pointed his finger at Hen. “So, it was you!”

Hen shook her head. “No, but I give props to whoever did it and I wish they had let me help.”

“This is hostile! It’s an attack and a breach of—”

Gerrard was closer than ever, coming at Chim and Hen. Tommy stepped away from Buck. He got between them and Gerrard. Buck could see that it was taking everything for Tommy to do so and despite how big of a man he was literally and figuratively, this was still hard for him. Buck wanted nothing more than to step forward and offer him a hand to hold. He knew he couldn’t. Tommy had asked him not to if it came to it.

“I did this,” Tommy said.

His voice was little more than a whisper, but he cleared his throat.

“No one deserves to work under you, to be belittled every day while doing a job that is already full of risk and that requires trust. No one needs to hear the vitriol that comes out of your mouth or the little motions because you think it’s only men like you that deserve to be here. They don’t. I won’t stand aside and let you do this to anyone. I won’t let you hurt them or put them in a position of getting hurt.”

“Of course it’s you, Kinard. Still a coward, still a groveling people pleaser. Should have known you like to be down on your knees like the faggot you are.”

Buck felt like his heart had gotten caught in his throat. His ears were ringing. He wanted to pull Tommy back, wrap him up in his arms at the same time as he wanted to just throw a punch. Buck heard a general gasp go around them and it was louder because it came from the people down below. Casey and everyone that had come with him.

“None of you deserve to work here. In fact, none of you do. I will make sure this is the end of your careers with the LAFD,” Gerrard said. “You’re all fired.”

“No,” Assistant Chief Williams said. “They are not.”

They saw Gerrard’s face go from red to pale white. He sputtered, but no words came out.

“Chief Williams is correct,” Chief Simpson said, at her heels. “I didn’t know why she insisted I come down here, but I’m glad she did. I see now I made a mistake in placing you here, Vincent.”

Buck stepped towards Tommy, reaching for his hand and he felt Tommy grasp his tightly.

It didn’t matter what Chief Simpson said to Taylor about what she could air, or how he wanted to handle things. Not with the crowd that Casey had gathered and not with all the things that Taylor had gotten up on Instagram and TikTok. He couldn’t put a stop to it, not even the spin that Taylor managed to put to things because as Buck had pointed out, Taylor wouldn’t just allow them to dictate things. This time, it was to their advantage.

After all, it was Taylor that found the connection between Councilwoman Ortiz which became a much larger partly unrelated story. One that Taylor was hell bent on investigating.

“She knew about him,” Taylor said to him as her camera man was packing up. “Ortiz asked him to put himself forward for this job. I just don’t know why.”

Buck told her to talk to Hen and Karen.

After it was all said and done and Bobby was reinstated as Captain, Buck found himself tucked into Tommy’s side out in Hen’s backyard where Hen and Karen were hosting the celebration for everything beginning to revert back to normal.

“You’re a little bit scary, you know,” Chim said to Tommy.

“Not really,” Karen put in. “He’s on our side.”

“I just did what I wish I had been capable of doing a long time ago,” Tommy said.

Buck kissed his shoulder. It was a little early, but he really did think he wanted to keep Tommy forever.

#911 abc #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #kinley #evan buckley #tommy kinard

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 1 year ago

Text

Top of the List [Part One]

Fandom: Elvis Presley, American Musician

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Addison Goodwin

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Jessie Goodwin, Lisa Marie Presley, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Jerry Schilling, Marci Cunningham, Colonel Parker [Mentioned], Joe Goodwin

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2197 of 9639

Summary: When you’re a kid writing a Christmas list is simple; toys and lots of them. As you get older however the wishes start to change and with a life as complicated as the Goodwin-Presleys those wants aren’t always easy to come by. For Addison it’s a family. For Jess answers. And for Elvis, well, as long as he’s got his girls he doesn’t have to wish for a damn thing.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, Sex, Penatrative Sex, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Handjobs, Morning Sex, Mentions of Death, Grief, Grieving, Absent Father, Single Parent, Working Parent, Christmas Day, Secrets, Festive Period, Teen Angst, Moods, Fingering, Christmas Morning, Kids on Christmas, Magic of Christmas

Notes: Okay so I’d been planning these as two separate fics but I decided to put them together because they parallel each other so well. All of them wanting something etc etc

I did want to make it sorta ghosts of Christmas past, present and future but working out the timelines of how to establish everything was too hard.

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

ELVIS & ADDISON MASTERPOST // TAG LIST

Addison could hear it, the snow outside flurrying past the windows as it made its way to the ground destined to leave the entire lawn blanketed in white. She couldn’t see it of course, her boyfriend’s need for perpetual darkness whenever he slept meant that the room was so dimly lit she could barely see her hand in front of her face, but she didn’t need to see it to know it was there. And just thinking of it made her feel cold. Even now, protected from Elvis’ Baltic bedroom conditions by the thick comforter and the furnace of the man himself beside her, she felt a tiny shiver run down her spine though she didn’t know why.

It wasn’t like last Christmas, when she had been cocooning herself in her blanket in order to keep in some kind of warmth as the wind whistled through the poorly insulated windows. She wasn’t listening to her father’s hacking coughs as he tried desperately to sleep off the chest infection that had been knocking him for six while he’d tried to keep working as long as he could so that she wouldn’t have to pick up more shifts at the movie theatre just to buy some food for Christmas dinner. When she went downstairs later, she’d no doubt be greeted by a wealth of presents underneath the tree instead of the one gift she had limited her father to buying her last year, knowing they could barely afford that.

Though as she lay there thinking about it, thinking of how far she had come from then to now, she realised why she could still feel that cold seeping into her bones despite everything she had done to stop it. It was because even now, laying in a bed in a literal mansion with Elvis next to her, pinning her to him as he snored lightly in her ear, she still felt as alone as she had in that bed last Christmas. She still felt hopeless, as though she were back in the same position because, like she had with her father, she knew something was coming — something bad.

She'd started to feel that around Christmas too, when his trips to the doctor had gotten more frequent but he hadn’t gotten any better. He’d kept her placated, telling her they’d gotten a new treatment, a costly one from what she’d seen on his medical bills, but a good one that was sure to work.

Elvis had done the same. Since Russwood Park he’d told her everything was okay, but there was something in the way he breezed around the details that told her it wasn’t. As her father’s conversations with nurses and doctors had ended abruptly whenever she came into a room, Elvis’ did too, the topic shifting to something trivial as he pulled her into him, holding her in ways she was sure were designed to make sure she couldn’t see his face. The way she had fussed over her father, watching everything he did in case he might need her, was the way Gladys now watched her son, who pretended not to notice her increased attention. And then there were his eyes. His eyes, that despite the smile on his face never seemed to light up the way they used to. Eyes that lost their sparkle every time he looked at her, guilt replacing that twinkle she loved so much.

That was why she was glad he was sleeping. That the weight on his shoulders was removed for now as he lay there oblivious, unlike her. It was dark, but she could just make out the contours of his face. The sharpness of his nose, followed by the plumpness of his lips that descended into the soft roundness of his jaw, down to his bobbing Adam’s apple. As she marvelled at each bit of him she found her finger following the path her eyes had travelled, and though she hadn’t meant to disturb him, she must’ve gone too far as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open blearily as he came to with a yawn, smiling at her sleepily as he got his bearings.

‘Good morning,’ she said, pulling her hand away quickly and placing it on his chest, hoping he wouldn’t think she’d been laying there watching him sleep. Luckily he didn’t seem to be bothered by the intrusion, instead preferring to reach for the lamp beside them so that he could see her face and marvel at her in the way she had him, only not in secrecy.

‘Mornin’ baby,’ he said, as his other hand moved up around her to her shoulder, pushing under the material of her night gown until he was touching her bare skin, warming her from the outside in.

‘Merry Christmas,’ she said with a weak smile. He faltered for a minute, as if the whole thing had snuck up on him, before he wiped his eyes wearily and said, ‘shit yeah. I forgot there for a minute.’

‘Merry Chrissmus baby,’ he said, offering her the most genuine smile she’d see in days, though it was immediately torn away as she watched whatever thought he’d have come and go, taking whatever easy-natured conversation they’d been having with them. She could feel him tense, pulling away from her as he said, ‘We, uh, we should head downstairs.’

‘It’s still early,’ Addison said, as he shifted away, pulling his touch away from her, leaving her colder than she had been before thinking about the snow.

‘I know,’ he said, as he threw back the covers, keeping his gaze away from her as he thought of an excuse to extract himself, ‘but everyone will be up soon.’

‘And they’ll wait for you,’ Addison countered, pushing herself up and pulling the covers back over him, her hand on his chest to keep him in place.

‘Still, can’t waste the day, right? Not on Christmas,’ he said jovially, glancing at her entrapment before he continued, ‘aren’t you wondering what Santa brought ya?’

‘I only asked for one thing,’ she said earnestly.

‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’ he asked, genuine intrigue plaguing his handsome face. She debated it for a moment, telling him that all she wanted was for him to tell her what was going on so that she could start getting over whatever devastation lay ahead, but as she watched him, his blue eyes holding the only genuine sparkle she’d seen since his last concert she couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t bring herself to ruin a moment, not when she had just been struck by the realisation that had been what he had been doing all along. He was trying to protect her the way her father had, and though she knew it would happen eventually, she decided to let him. To push the inevitable away for just today.

‘You,’ she said, moving until she was draped across him, their breath intermingling as their noses touched.

‘Ads,’ he whispered, but she didn’t listen, and instead she leant in, their lips touching gently as she kissed him, hoping he’d take the bait. He was tense as she kissed him deeper, shifting until she was sitting atop of him, but as her fingers trailed down his torso, working his pyjama shirt open as they continued the route they’d been headed before he’d awoken, she felt him respond, his dick twitching against her leg without his permission. He wanted to stop her, well, not entirely, but as she pulled back a smile on her pretty face, he knew he probably should. It was what he’d been doing the past few days since every touch and every kiss now filled him with guilt, given that she didn’t know that they were soon to be rationed. Every minute of every day since he’d found out about the draft he’d wanted to spend holed away in this room doing exactly what she was now, and yet he hadn’t. In fact, he’d pushed her away more than he’d intended to. Which was why her touch felt so good now and why his toes curled as she pulled him out of his shorts, her hand gliding effortlessly up and down his length, causing his breath to get heavier and her smirk to grow.

‘You like that?’ she asked with a giggle as her thumb ran over a sensitive spot, causing Elvis’ hips to jolt without warning.

‘You know I do,’ Elvis said, pushing himself up until he was sitting, his arms wrapping around her as their foreheads pressed together. It was enough to stall her movements, his cock nestling between the warmth of his own belly and the heaps of chiffon from the night dress he still hadn’t managed to get off of her yet. It was also nearly enough to make her come clean, to have the words on the tip of her tongue, but she found the only thing she could say was, ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘M’right here,’ he said, though he knew what she meant.

‘Promise?’ she asked. He didn’t say anything; she just watched as that familiar guilt swirled in his eyes before he moved in and kissed her. After that it wasn’t certain who needed the other more. Who needed distraction, warmth, love. She let him lead though, his hand guiding the tip of his cock through her slickened folds before he inched inside her, holding her firm in his lap for a moment as they became one. Even when they could hear sounds of the house coming to life and people waking ready for Christmas, neither of them rushed. Instead, he laid her down on his bed, moving his hips at an agonisingly slow pace, just watching her as she took him.

He was going to miss this. When he ripped the band aid off and changed their lives forever, it would be this he missed the most. Because after today they’d never be like this again. Sure, they could do this a thousand times over, yet it wouldn’t be the same. When her hand ghosted his cheek it wouldn’t be just a loving gesture; it’d be trying to commit the feel of it to memory. When he buried his face in her neck next time, he’d be trying to remember to make a note of the perfume she wore so that he could buy a spare bottle to take with him, just to have some reminder of her in those lonely barrack bunks. In fact, he doubted he’d ever get her like this again, breathlessly calling his name as she clenched like a vice around him, her chest heaving as he spilled into her, unable to hold back. No, he’d never get her like this again because when they did this again she’d be looking at him with the same look she had now, as their heads pressed together, that knowing look of sadness. Every minute from now would be chalked with worry. He knew her well enough to realise that once he told her the truth, she’d pull away, and that was worse than the idea of going away at all.

‘I love you,’ she murmured as he lay against her, his body entirely too big for her to hold properly though she didn’t care. Having him close was enough.

‘Love you too, baby,’ he whispered, not looking up from where his head rested on her chest, her fingers weaving through his hair. She watched him, wondering whether to ask him what was going on or not, but as she lay there, her head clouded with love and lust, she still couldn’t bring herself to. She could see that guilt over coming to him once more, beckoning him to pull away from her, and that she couldn’t bear. So even though she knew something was coming—something bad—she decided to let him play it his way. If he wanted to keep her in the dark for now, he could. If he wanted to give her a Christmas, she’d let him.

‘We should get up,’ she said thickly, trying to force the tears in her voice away before he looked up at her, his head snapping up as she spoke, watching her with those guilt-ridden blue eyes. ‘Your mama will have our heads if we don’t.’

‘You’re right,’ he said with a weak smile, ‘I’m gon’ hope in the shower.’

‘Okay,’ she said as he pulled himself away, allowing her to push herself up until she was sitting, wrapping the comforter around her in the hopes it would mirror the warmth he provided. He jumped out of bed, shivering in the crispness of the air but he didn’t run away. Instead he lingered by the edge of the bed, looking down on her for a moment. Whatever he was going to say gone as he made the executive decision to lean down and kiss her.

‘You’re what I wanted for Christmas too,’ he said, offering her a cheeky smile which she returned before heading towards the bathroom. Though as the door closed behind him, she sighed. It was coming soon; she knew that, but she could give him the day. They could have Christmas.

ELVIS TAGS

@girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996 @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley @artlesson8892 @18lkpeters @velvetelvis @jaqueline19997 @elvispresleyxoxo @amydarcimarie @presleyenterprise @everythingelvispresley @elvispresleywife @lillypink @richardslady121

#my writing #elvis presley #elvis and addison #elvis #elvis x ofc #elvis presley x ofc #addison goodwin #top of the list #jessie goodwin #lisa marie presley

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shallyne · 8 months ago

Text

The Diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 6

CHAPTER 6!!!! EXCITING! This is now the time jump. Reminder: new names because new identities. Enjoy! Whole fic is on AO3

Words: 1.5k

TW: nightmares, mentions of death, mentions of guns

8 years later

November 20th

Dear Diary,

I am back! It's been a long time and a lot has happened but at the same time, not that much. There have been some rocky moments the past years but altogether life was pretty damn normal. Mara, Daisy and I all went to community college. Mara graduated with a degree in journalism and is now working at the Velaris Times while Daisy decided to work at a bakery that just opened in town after graduating with a psychology degree. I, myself, have started a zoology degree but I dropped out in the first year because it just wasn't possible time and money wise. Mara had just started working at the Velaris Times and Elain was in the midst of college so I decided to work instead of studying. Financially it was pretty tight during that time but we managed. We would manage again now that Mara and Daisy are working, I could go back to college but I am not sure if I should go back to zoology. It’s been amazing and incredibly interesting but it just wasn’t for me. There’s still the possibility of art school but I haven’t drawn anything since that day. I can’t paint anymore but the prospect of it is still lingering, hovering over me like the ghost of my old self. I’ll have to think about it but for now I am okay with my perfectly mid job.

Although our jobs haven’t been the only things in our lives that changed, Mara has met two girls who are now her friends, Emerie and Gwyn, with whom she now has a book club and Daisy met twins who she hangs out with all the time, doing her favorite things like gardening and baking. Their names are Nuala and Cerridwen and they work for some rich guy who just moved here.

I also made a friend, his name is Lucien. We met through my boyfriend, Tamlin. Lucien and I couldn’t really stand each other at first, he was such an asshole. Well, he still is but I grew to like it about him.

Tamlin and I met under different circumstances, he hit me with his car. It was just an accident because he was looking on his phone and when he helped me hobble out of the hospital, because he broke my foot, he asked me on a date and I agreed. He’s a perfectly nice gentleman. Of course he has his flaws but don’t we all? Rhysand didn’t. Especially my old friend who lied to me throughout our whole friendship.

Oh! I also tried to get Eras Tour tickets but they were quite expensive, unfortunately. Maybe someone will sell theirs or I’ll get some for a future tour.

Alright, time for dinner.

Later!

November 21st

N Mara brought a vacancy flyer home today for me. It’s for some fancy Lounge in downtown Velaris who’s looking for a waitress. I am absolutely underqualified for this position but she says I should try anyway because it pays well. We wrote an application together that sounded a little more professional than my previous ones, it is necessary if I want to work there.

Getting the job would help us tremendously, we could get a new couch AND afford the good toilet paper, wouldn’t that just be amazing? I can’t let myself daydream too far because chances are high I won’t get the job. Daisy said she’s sure I’ll get the job if they meet me but I’d need a job interview first so that is a big IF.I am trying to hope for the best but expect the worst.

We will drop the application off tomorrow and get a look at the Lounge. Pray that I won't freeze to death, it's COLD.

November 22nd

I haven't had nightmares for two years. I had a nightmare again. I just woke up, I have to write it down.

I was back at home and mom just died, we just got the news. Everyone was in shock, no one moved. It was so quiet.

The doorbell rang, I went to the door just like I did when they got dad. I opened it, I opened the door.

I shouldn't have opened the door.

But I did.

They stormed in, they held us at gunpoint.

I just told Rhys that he's dead to me

I wish he was here

Because I'm going to die. I was going to die, I knew it.

But he was there, I don't know how. I don't know how he did it but he was there suddenly. He would protect me, always. I knew that, I always knew that. I've just been angry. I know it wasn't his fault. He just wanted to protect me. I wished I could tell him, right then. But they killed him, right in front of my eyes. Because he wanted to protect me. He died because of me. It was my fault.

I tried to move, to protect my sisters. I needed to protect them, it was my fault that Rhys was dead. I have to protect them from the same fate but it's too late. I can still hear the gunshots ringing in my ears. One. Two. Elain, dead. Three. Four. Nesta, dead. I want to scream, I want to rush forward but I can't. I can't.

Then I was looking down the barrel of a gun.

Then I woke up.

I can barely breathe.

November 23rd

I was on a lunch date with Tamlin today, it was fine until a waiter spilled some water on the table and he went through the roof. It was only a little bit of spilled water, it hadn't even spilled on his clothes. It took me forever to calm him down. I hope the waitress is alright, I left her a bigger tip.

When we sat in the car and Tamlin finally calmed down he apologized. Then, which is very exciting, Nesta called me because a letter from the Lounge I applied to arrived just then and I told her to open it and tell me. The seconds she took to open the envelope and read felt like an eternity BUT they invited me to a job interview!!! Isn't that just so exciting? Never in a million years I would have thought they would even think about inviting me but they did! For TOMORROW. The reply and the job interview both went so fast, I can't wrap my mind around it. Tamlin seemed semi-interested in the news but I'm sure he will think differently tomorrow, he had somewhat of a bad day today.

I went home and instantly threw my good pants in the washer, they are drying now. I'm as excited as I am nervous, this job could change quite a lot for us.

I should really go to sleep, I don't want to seem tired during my interview.

I'm thanking the stars that they listened and answered!! Maybe fate DOES exist! (Okay, Feyre, calm down. You don't even have the job yet.)

November 24th

I've got the job.

Tamlin said I shouldn't take it and move in with him, that he could take care of me and my sisters. Nesta said she would rather stab out her eyes.

Although Tamlin and his proposal isn't what's worrying me right now, it's how I got the job.

Why I got the job.

Let's start from this morning.

I woke up at six AM because I've been so nervous. I prepared questions that could be asked and the answers, took a shower, ate breakfast, cleaned my room, put on some makeup and then got dressed and made my way downtown. My whole thoughts were about this interview, because it's important, for me, for Mara, for Daisy.

I was half an hour too early so I went and got a coffee. Unfortunately my nerves didn't let me sit still for more than two minutes so I walked up and down the street until it was finally time.

There was a nice lady, I don't remember her name, who led me to an office in the back because my interview was with the boss himself. The whole Lounge was so luxurious, even though I was wearing my best outfit it felt incredibly cheap in comparison but it was so tasteful, I kind of felt comfortable?

Then the lady knocked on the door and left, leaving me alone as I entered the office.

I knew instantly, right as I stepped into the office. It's been 8 years, we became adults, we grew up, but I knew before he looked up from his paperwork. I knew that a pair of almost-violet eyes would stare at me, a pair that was scribbled all over my old notebooks.

He did look at me, his eyes almost the same, but they seemed more dark and haunted now. But when he recognized me, he lit up.

But I was stuck there because-

What the fuck is Rhysand doing in Velaris????

Excerpt from a chat between Rhysand and Morrigan

Rhysand: I'm sending a car over, you need to come ASAP

Morrigan: What??? What happened?

Rhysand: I can't tell you over text, get in the car and come over here

Morrigan: Jeez, this better be good

Morrigan: I'm delaying my nail appointment for you

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

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kxowledge · 10 months ago

Note

Congrats on your PhD acceptance!!! Was this the uni you wanted to do your PhD in, or is it a 'safe' choice?

It’s both the place I wanted the most and the one where I thought I had the highest chances of succeeding. I don’t think there’s such thing as a “safe” option when it comes to PhD programs and there is no point in applying to schools that you aren’t fully convinced about, but this uni for me did feel “safe” in the sense that this was one of the programs I knew the most about how it would be.

Last summer when I narrowed down the schools I wanted to apply to, I came up with 10 names, all places I would have been thrilled to attend – submitting a good application is so time-consuming that it’s not worth spending time over something I felt lukewarm about. No university was perfect, but none had drawbacks I couldn’t live with. As I was very sick in the fall (and still not feeling 100%), I knew I needed to focus my energy and not apply to all 10 this round. So, I decided to apply just to this university, with the fallback plan to apply to the 9 others next autumn if I didn’t get in.

The reason why was twofold. Firstly, there’s timing – I had been building a good relationship with several people in the department and the supervisor I wanted was hiring this year and this year only. I had momentum I needed to capitalize on, whereas for the other schools which cycle I’d apply wouldn’t matter much. Secondly, I thought that this was the program I would prefer over all others except one, given the choice. Two main reasons for this:

My supervisor!! I have concrete evidence that my supervisor will be a good one. She’s an expert when it comes to my specific methodology, which is super important to me, and she know so much about the topics I’m interested in – and she was the one introducing me to some of these in the first place. She’s very supportive and gives great feedback that actually pushes me further. She has a good network of other scholars. These are all things that will contribute to my success, more so than the name of the school. There are obviously great supervisors at other schools too, but here I know for sure

The money. In the context of the other universities I was considering (i.e. in Europe/UK), this is where I’m going to get paid the most. As I said, I would have also managed with a lower salary, but, trust me, knowing I’m going to get paid this much is a relief - living on £20k/€23k/$25k circa is too restrictive no matter the location. Not only I will not have to worry about money ever for the next four years, but I will also be able to put enough money aside to buy a house, because we're not talking about a 2-3k more, we're talking about almost double of what I would have gotten in other places. Because of the money and the benefits, I don’t have to feel like I’m putting my life on hold until the end of the PhD, but rather I can afford to do anything I want, be it travel or build a family or join the expensive pottery studio or whatever.

The drawback: this university is not well ranked worldwide. What will get my CV checked out for AP positions will not be the name of the institution, but rather my work, which is a lot of pressure because getting something under review at a top journal is no easy feat. At the end of the day, I would try to do my best and I would have high standards in any case, so at least I’m in an environment that will support me & if I struggle getting a job post-graduation I will have a safety net to fall back to.

The only place that would have been better / I would have chosen over this uni would have been INSEAD, but my chances of success with them were way lower (I’ve been told by them that my quant GRE score would already screen me out, even though I don’t even want to do quant research), so I don't mind too much not having applied.

#long rant!!#p #can you tell i value safety

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mostlikelythedevil · 2 years ago

Text

Haunted. | [Chapter Two]

Pairing(s): Kevin Owens x Fem!Zayn!Reader, Solo Sikoa x Fem!Zayn!Reader

Warning(s): Explicit Language, Angst

Word Count: 2,556

Chapter Summary: After a troubling call from the opposition, Kevin goes to The Reader to talk some things over.

Link(s): AO3, Masterlist

Note(s): I’ve decided to start doing warnings and summaries per chapter rather than per the entire story since things may yet change. I’m also looking to have a ‘cover’ made for the story so that it sticks out a bit more on the site, so keep an eye out for that in the next few chapters!

The thought of your brother’s proposal lingers in your mind as you begin stretching; you still fail to understand why The Bloodline would have such a sudden, intense interest in recruiting you — assuming that Sami is telling the truth in that the reason is not Kevin Owens. Love him as you may, your brother does have a new habit of stretching the truth to fit his own narrative, and you have all the reason in the world to suspect that your relationship with Kevin has something to do with things after the comments Sami made.

Be that as it may, you cannot afford to pour focus into such trivial matters; in a short time, you would be having the match that could make or break your young career. Yet, the stubborn thought of Kevin lingers even as you try to push everything from your mind — which is oddly fitting, seeing he is as stubborn as he is. Could it be possible that your feelings are as obvious as Sami seems to think? If so, is Kevin truly using you for his own benefit?

You shake your head slightly, positioning yourself in such a way to stretch your back. Kevin, cruel as he can sometimes be to others, would not do that to you; he has never been cruel to you, and you two have only gotten closer with time. Sure, sometimes he can be a bit snippy, but he’s never come across as uncaring or disingenuous with his feelings. In fact, you would be so bold as to say that you seamlessly replaced the hole in Kevin’s heart where Sami once comfortably resided.

Yes, Sami is just jealous that he no longer has the friendship he built for decades.

It’s not your fault, either. Sami did it to himself; Sami chose to betray Kevin, and that was the last straw of a long line of straws. Kevin didn’t deserve his best friend abandoning him for a group of men that used Sami for mere entertainment — men that didn’t value Sami. Had Kevin done awful things to Sami in the past? Yes, but Kevin always came begging for forgiveness when he realized his mistakes. Sami couldn’t be bothered when Kevin begged him to come to his senses, so you filled the void of hurt that he left behind.

Knock. Knock.

“It’s me. Can I come in?” The voice of Kevin breaks you from your thoughts.

Now isn’t the best time. “Yeah, sure. I’m just stretching.”

The door opens, allowing the bright white light of the corridor to fill a small portion of your dim little locker room. Kevin enters the room, closes the door, and sits down on the leather couch provided to you for the night. He seems uncomfortable; his hands are twisted tight around his phone, his brows furrowed as if he’s trying to think of something to say.

“Come to wish me luck tonight?” You ask, a smile on your lips as you pull yourself up from a stretch to give Kevin your full attention.

Kevin smiles, though it lacks enthusiasm. “You don’t need luck.”

“Maybe not, but it sure is nice,” you quip playfully as you take a seat on the coffee table sitting across from Kevin. “You’ve got something on your mind.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s going on?”

Kevin hesitates. “Have you spoken to Sami recently?”

“Today, actually,” you sigh, “what did he do?”

“What did you two talk about?” Kevin asks, ignoring your question.

You frown. “I was going to talk to you about this after my match, but Sami wants me to join The Bloodline — and he made sure to share his deep dislike of you.”

Kevin nods, looking down at the phone in his hands. “Well?”

“I told him I would think about it so he would get the hell off of my case,” you reply with a skeptical tone. “What the hell did Sami say to you, Kev?”

“Sami didn’t say anything to me.” Kevin admits, still staring down at his phone. “Roman did.”

You furrow your brows, more confused than before. “Roman… Reigns?”

“Good job,” sarcasm drips from Kevin’s tone.

“Don’t be an ass,” you scoff. “What could Roman possibly have to say to you?”

Kevin laughs, a humorless sound, and licks his teeth. “It’s about you, actually.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I thought it was pretty interesting myself,” something about Kevin’s tone seems pointed at you. “Do you have any idea of what could have made Roman want to contact me?”

“No, I don’t — and I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I might,” you reply, frowning.

Kevin nods, head down. “Roman wants me to stay away from you; he threatened me with retirement if I chose not to listen.”

“Roman Reigns wants you to stay away from me?” You almost laugh at the idea.

“That’s funny?”

“That’s just Sami trying to scare me into the arms of The Bloodline. You have nothing to be worried about Kevin,” you put a hand on his arm. “I’m not joining The Bloodline.”

“That’s the thing: I would have expected this to be from Sami, but this — this message wasn’t Sami,” Kevin raises his phone to your eyes, “this is Roman — and only Roman. Listen.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait— this was a phone call?”

Kevin does not reply, allowing the crackling of his phone speaker to give you the answer you chased. There is a loud, obnoxious shuffling for a few seconds that sounds suspiciously like the inside of a pocket and an angry finger hitting the screen of the phone with such aggression it could have shattered.

“Who the hell do you think you are calling me?” Kevin’s voice rings through the phone, just as aggressive as his attempt to get the recording going.

“We need to have a discussion,” the voice of Roman Reigns replies with an eerie calm. In the background of the call, there are voices; it almost sounds as if this call happened around the time you finished speaking to your brother. “You and Sami’s sister, you’re close. That needs to stop.”

Kevin scoffs into the phone indignantly. “Have you lost your fucking mind — calling and demanding things from me?” He laughs with a humorless tone. “Unbelievable.”

“Listen to me, Kevin,” Roman’s voice is quiet through the phone, “tonight is the last night that you’re going to speak to her if you value the career that you have. Do we have an understanding?”

“Big talk for someone who felt the need to call,” Kevin shoots back.

Roman huffs, almost laughing. “You can consider it, this one time, a gesture of good faith,” he replies with a snicker. “I would hate to break our Little Zayn’s heart more than you’re going to when she comes to realize you were never going to care about her the way she cares about you.”

“I’m not— what the hell is that supposed to mean?” Kevin stutters, confused.

“Come on, Kevin, we both know the only reason that girl stuck around after her brother dumped your ass. It’s why it’s so easy for you to manipulate her into guilt-tripping Sami,” there is a shuffling in the background. “Now, you remember what I said Kevin. Drop her — tonight. Tell her that you want nothing to do with her anymore.”

The call ends abruptly.

“Son of a bitch.” Kevin growls before the audio cuts.

That’s a lot to take in — a lot more than you had initially prepared yourself for. Why would Roman reach out to Kevin about your friendship if not for Sami? Could it be true that he wants you as a member of The Bloodline? Why now? What could Roman possibly have to gain from you? None of it makes sense.

“Well, you know what I’m going to say,” you begin after a moment of thought, “I believe that this is Sami — or Roman, I guess, trying to force me into The Bloodline.”

Kevin shakes his head. “You don’t believe that.”

“I do.” You answer. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Fine, sure. Let’s say that Roman and Sami are so desperate to have you join The Bloodline that they’re calling my phone to threaten me,” Kevin crosses his arms over his chest as he speaks, “that doesn’t explain why they seem to think that there’s something more between us than friendship.”

You sigh, heart dropping to your stomach. “That’s just Sami being paranoid.”

“No. I know Sami. He wouldn’t just suspect that,” Kevin narrows his gaze.

“You haven’t had a conversation with Sami in months. I know what he thinks,” your tone turns annoyed as you continue, “and he’s paranoid that I would choose you over him.”

“Would you?”

“I already have,” you reply curtly.

“Then maybe Sami’s paranoia has some basis,” Kevin replies. “I’m not saying it’s the truth, but I can see where he might get the idea — why he might share that with his Bloodline friends to use as fodder for this whole thing.”

You roll your eyes. “I disagree, but it hardly matters.”

“You’re right. It’s not like I would ever pursue you, even if it were true; you don’t do that to your best friend.” Kevin says casually, as if he did not just rip your heart from your chest.

It takes everything inside of you to not tear up. “Okay, well, now that we have that sorted,” you stand from your makeshift seat on the coffee table, “Sami is going to be here soon to talk, too.”

Kevin does not move from his position on the couch. “You want me to leave?”

“It would probably be for the best,” you reply as evenly as you can, “because I’d like my locker room to not become a disaster zone if the two of you meet.”

In Kevin’s eyes, you can see the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together. His brows are furrowed, and his mouth is just slightly opened into a frown. He looks up at you, really scrutinizing your gaze. “You’ve never asked me to leave before.”

A lump forms in your throat. It feels difficult to breathe.

“How long have you had feelings for me?” The question sends your mind spiraling, and the best you can do to calm yourself is laugh. You laugh, and laugh, and laugh, but Kevin does not.

You stop laughing. “All of this because I asked you to leave?”

“Tell me.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know!”

Kevin runs a hand through his hair, standing. He’s taller than you — and for the first time, you feel intimidated by his stature. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I never expected anything to come of it,” you blurt, cheeks burning with the fire of the sun.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me if that were the case? Why would you lie to my face just a few minutes ago?” Kevin snaps, sounding disgusted with the mere idea of you.

Tears well in your eyes as you take a step away from Kevin. “I didn’t expect you to find out because you were never meant to — no-one was. All I wanted from you was friendship, and I got that; you are my best friend,” your voice wobbles as you speak, “or, well, I guess we’re just good friends, since you still consider Sami above me even after everything he’s put you through for the last forever.”

“I thought you were trying to force Sami and I back together,” Kevin replies as he rubs his temple. “If I would have known about your feelings, I would have never spoken to you.”

“Don’t say that.” A few tears fall down your cheeks, smearing your non-waterproof make-up.

Kevin takes in a deep breath. “There’s no way that things can ever go back to normal.”

“Please, Kevin, I— I value our friendship more than anything. I don’t want to lose you, not to some stupid fucking feelings,” your voice cracks as you speak.

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” Kevin says through his teeth, voice struggling to stay even.

Anger surges through you. “No. Don’t you fucking quote what Roman told you to say to me, you fucking coward,” tears stream freely down your cheeks, “own up to it. Tell me that you’re willing to throw me away because of something that doesn’t matter!”

Kevin does not respond.

“That’s what I fucking thought. You’re just afraid of Roman, and you’re looking for a way out,” your voice strains as you holler, “well, I’m not your way out anymore, Kev. I won’t help you anymore — with Sami, with The Bloodline, with anything — because I’m done with you! You don’t get to throw me away after everything I’ve done to help you at the cost of my relationship with my brother! I throw you away.”

Red in the face with pent-up anger, Kevin storms to the door of your locker room, slamming it open so hard that it stays open. A loud metal BANG echoes through the corridor. You storm after him, standing just outside of your locker room to watch as he walks away from you with such ease.

“You are everything everyone says you are — everything Sami warned me about!” You scream defiantly, grabbing a nearby metal chair and throwing it in the direction of Kevin. It does not go far, only echoing another BANG behind him.

Wet, ruined make-up stains your cheeks as you stare down the corridor. How could Kevin do this to you? Was Sami really right about him? How could Sami be right about anything? This is his fault; he should have never mentioned your feelings to anyone. But maybe this is a blessing in disguise. It’s better to know now that Kevin never cared enough about you as a friend, let alone anything more, to not walk away from you at the first sign of real conflict.

An angry sob rips through your throat as you lean against the wall to your locker room, staring at the last location of Kevin in disbelief. Blush and eyeliner stain your cheeks with the ruin of your tears, mixing and further straying from their intended colors. In the distance, a camera watches you with extreme interest; it perfectly captures the bloodshot horror of your eyes.

Tears continuing to fall, ruining your voice with agitated sobs, you turn to move back into your locker room; you had to fix the mess on your face and force all feelings down — fast. A few meters away, though, watching the entire mess with Kevin, stand The Bloodline; a fresh rage bubbles through your sorrow, drying your tears.

Roman stands front and center, as per usual, with the nastiest smirk on his lips that he could muster; the two twins stand on the left side of Roman, slightly behind him, snickering to one another; on the right side of Roman, Sami is left in disbelief; beside Sami, Solo does not show any immediate emotion with his expression, though his brows are raised ever-so-slightly in surprise. You do not see Paul, though you can assume he is somewhere trailing behind like the good dog that he is.

Mess that you are, you begin your way to The Bloodline in similar fashion to Kevin leaving you behind like trash.

#WWE #WWE Imagine #Roman Reigns #The Bloodline #Solo Sikoa #Solo Sikoa x Reader #Solo Sikoa Imagine #Sami Zayn #Kevin Owens #Kevin Owens x Reader #Kevin Owens Imagine #The Usos #Also On AO3 #Haunted: Chapter 2 #Haunted: Chapter Two

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