#on one hand opening a door means maybe it can be dealt with. on the other its not likely + FUCK THE DOOR IS OPEN SOMEONE CLOSE IT

[nonbinarygamzee]

need to like. deactualize. uncracking the shell and all.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。2:09 AM — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)

contents. college au!, rich boy! gojo, established relationships, alcohol consumption (gojo), mentions of his rude dad tryna break y’all up >:(

it’s test night. meaning you have a very important test that will heavily weigh on your grade coming up at 8:30 am sharp. gojo should know not to bother you—you’ve told him at least one million times (maybe one billion) that you absolutely will not be coming over.

but judging by the insistent knocking on your door, he’s failed to listen to your warnings and decided to come to you instead. so you decide you’re going to kill him as soon as you open that door—you’re going to walk up, open the door, cup his cheeks and take one last good look at that beautiful face, and then you’re going to kill him and bury him somewhere where no one will find him.

except when you open the door, ready to scold your painfully irritating boyfriend, you’re greeted by his best friend instead. geto has gojo slung over his shoulder with a tired enough look on his face that you almost feel bad for him even after he’s ruined your sleep. almost.

“it’s two am,” you say, unimpressed. gojo perks up as he hears your voice, slurring your name as he tries to take a step towards you—if not for geto’s arm around his waist, you’re pretty sure your boyfriend would face plant onto the floor.

“yes, and i’ve dealt with him until this long. it’s your turn,” geto grumbles.

“just take him home, i don’t want him,” you wrinkle your nose. gojo whines in disbelief, still too drunk to stand on his own two feet or form proper words. you raise a brow and then promptly decide to ignore him.

“well, i don’t want him either,” geto huffs, “and he doesn’t want to go home. he went at it with his father again.”

“then make him sleep in his car.”

“he’s your boyfriend,” geto insists.

“he’s your best friend. you’ve known him longer.”

“you know him just as well,” he argues, “plus, you fuck him. that’s way more than what i do.”

“suguru!” you sputter, earning a sly grin from the dark-haired jerk standing before you—maybe you should kill both of them and hide their bodies in your freezer.

but then again, your tiny freezer in your run-down apartment that you can hardly afford as a tired, overworked college student couldn’t possibly fit two oversized men with abnormally large limbs. so instead, you offer geto a not-so-appropriate hand gesture (that he graciously returns) and grab gojo from his arms.

and instantly, gojo brightens.

“baby!” he slurs, kissing your cheeks with sloppy, scattered pecks. you crinkle your nose at the smell of alcohol surrounding you as soon as he enters your personal space.

“he’s your problem now,” geto mutters, rolling his eyes at the headache he’s had to supervise for the entirety of the night. you suppose you can feel a little bad for him—but only a tiny bit.

“wanna crash on the couch?” you ask sympathetically. it earns a soft smile from geto before he shakes his head.

“nah, i’ll go home. thanks.” with an affectionate flick to your forehead, he turns and walks back to his car, leaving you with the lanky, drunken mess leaning half his body weight on you.

you really should kill gojo satoru—and you should do it before 8:30 am.

“didn’t i tell you i have a test?” you grumble, dragging him to your bedroom.

he flops unceremoniously onto your mattress, snuggling with the stuffed bear by your pillows. and you should stay strong, but before you can help it, you smile softly at the sight.

“i won this for you,” he grins, his sunglasses crooked and falling to the tip of his nose. you grab them from his face and set them on your nightstand.

“yes, i know,” you roll your eyes, “i was there.”

“you kept it,” he giggles, words still slurred and messy.

“yes, satoru,” you snort, “i kept the stuffed bear my boyfriend won me. it’s not a surprise.”

“‘s right,” he nods, “‘m your boyfriend. best one you ever had, huh?”

“sure,” you sigh, pulling him by the arm to sit up. he puckers his lips as soon as his face is close enough to yours, looking at your expectantly.

“gimme a kiss. i need a kiss,” he demands.

“satoru, you’re drunk,” you sigh, trying to work the sweaty button-up off his body, “and you smell like beer.”

gojo is well built—he doesn’t seem like it because he’s a bit lanky and has an awful sense of fashion that doesn’t do his figure any justice, but he’s well built. you try your best not to stare at the sculpted abs and the curves of his pecs—especially not the slight sweatiness of the skin that makes it almost glisten.

nope. you keep your eyes trained on him, not his shirtless torso.

except gojo satoru is nothing if not observant even in his drunken stupor—he grins that shit-eating grin of his that you hate so much but fall in love with every time, noticing the way your eyes wander back to his chest every few seconds for a fleeting glance.

“you don’t have’ta sneak a look, baby,” he slurs smoothly, chuckling, “‘m all yours. wanna feel?” and because he’s an asshole, he grabs your hand and lays it flat on his chest. “i’ve been working out with suguru. can you tell?” he winks.

“no,” you say flatly, pushing him back onto the mattress once you’ve worked his shirt off, “now sleep.”

“can’t sleep unless i’m in boxers,” he pouts, “can you take my pants off for me?”

and he even dares to bat his long, unfairly pretty eyelashes at you, putting on his best innocent face. you see past him, though—you see the smirk he tries to hide and the amusement in his clouded eyes.

you’re definitely going to hide his body in your freezer.

“you’ll live,” you huff.

“please,” he pouts deeper, “can’t sleep in these. too uncomfortable.”

“fine,” you hiss, and for a brief moment, you mourn the sleep you should be getting right before the most crucial midterm of your life.

you glare at his cheeky grin as you work his belt off, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them down his legs, grumbling curses under your breath. this time, you make careful work not to stare at his lower half—you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“are you ready for sleep now, your highness?” you ask with a raised brow. he giggles and nods, holding an arm out for you.

“c’mere.”

and….well, you can’t exactly complain once you’re nestled comfortably in his arms, cheek pressed against the bare skin of his chest. his arm wraps around your body tightly, pulling you close as he plants a wet kiss on your forehead.

“you’re a handful,” you sigh, “did you bother suguru too much?”

“nope,” he shakes his head, “i was on my best behavior.”

“you’re never on your best behavior,” you grin, rolling your eyes. and because you love him, even when he calls you as you study and crashes your apartment as you try to sleep, you lean up and kiss his jaw sweetly, making him hum happily. “goodnight, satoru.”

“you forgot to say i love you.”

“i hate you.”

“so mean,” he whines, making you giggle.

“i love you,” you murmur, “i’ll love you a whole lot more if you let me sleep for my test.”

“kay,” he yawns, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “i love you too.”

it’s silent for a bit, just the steady breaths from gojo and the loud air conditioning ringing in the distance. you’re sure he’s asleep from the way his chest seems to rise and fall under your cheek slowly—until he speaks up quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to hear.

“‘m never breaking up with you,” he whispers, “promise. no matter what that old man says.”

you hold your breath as his warm lips press against your forehead—you’re certain he thinks you’re asleep, and you’re also certain that you were never meant to hear those words in the first place. so you swallow, trying not to give away that you’re still very much awake and very much aware of his words.

and then it hits you—suddenly, you remember the way gojo refused to go home, the way geto mentioned he’d gotten into an argument with his father. it clicks all at once that the subject of this argument must’ve been you—gojo’s father has never been subtle about his disapproval, and it’s no secret he’d greatly prefer that the heir of his company stopped dating someone entirely out of his realm—someone like you.

“you’re it for me,” he mumbles softly. you think he sounds a bit more sober as he speaks the words against your forehead—and for a moment, you think that gojo is it for you too. 

maybe you’re not so mad about your sleep anymore. maybe, as he kisses your forehead one last time, as his breath slowly evens out and his grip loosens slightly around your body, you fall in love with gojo satoru a little harder. 

stab dadjo and stan suguru ‼️

ps here’s a little part 2

[enidette]

STRANGE CANDY

warnings :: both are 18+, carl, riding, piv, manhandling, humiliation, nipple play, teasing, begging, overstimulation

denise was a gift, truly. she saved many lives which proved a lot about her. but she needed help, and you along with a few others volunteered to be her medical assistants. you were the only one your age however, it kind of boosted your ego. learning all of this and helping people so young.

you dealt with patients nearly every day. it was typically older people, with he exception of one boy, one around your age. you got a glimpse of him around alexandria, you knew he came for check-ups and cleanings for his eye. he’s cute, but you’ve never gotten lucky enough to be the one to help him.

but when you see him, he’s always looking at you first. and if you’re not being too cocky, he seems like he’s trying to get your attention. but his lack of experience in the flirting department leaves him failing ninety percent of the time. but that only drew you to him more; how pathetic he was.

today is a particularly short-staffed day, meaning denise had gone on a run and you as well one other intern were the only one’s in the infirmary. even that lasted a short while, due to the lack of patients today your coworker decided to call it. checking with you before leaving you to the rest.

there was only maybe two hours until sundown, which is when denise should be returning. then you could go home. so you didn’t mind being left there, especially at the rate of, well, no patients today.

you make your way to the bag you bring every day, whipping out the comic you bring in case of a slow day. you sit where denise usually does and let yourself get into it. your hands mindlessly go to the stash of snacks in your bag before you’re interrupted by a soft knock.

guess you couldn’t have it all your way.

you put your things away and hurry to the door in case of an emergency, opening it to see him. the cute loser, the leader’s kid. well you couldn’t complain now, could you?

he seems taken aback at the sight of you, stammering slightly. “where’s denise?” you frown but stand to the side to let him in.

“she’s out on a run.” he gives you a weird look, no doubt confused as that’s not denise’s forte. “looks like you’re stuck with me.” you give him a sorrowful look that you only half-heartedly mean before leading him to a bed.

carl looks down when you sit in front of him, avoiding your eyes. “no offense…” he looks up to see you quirking a brow at him, “i’m used to denise doing this. since she usually has to clean it and all… not many others have ever seen it.”

you hum in acknowledgment, nodding your head in understanding. “okay then,” you place your hands on your lap and give him a tight-lipped smile. “i think you can wait if you want-”

“no.” he cuts you off, causing you to blink at him. he racks his brain for an excuse to get you where he wants without scaring you away with the mutilation on his face. at least that’s what he thinks of it. “you can still give me a check up, right?”

the thought of you so close to him made him nervous. he hasn’t felt this strongly about someone before, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. and with your hands on him? his brain may short-circuit.

but you nod to him with a sweet smile that eases him. but it doesn’t stop his mind from running wild when you stand up to grab his files. his eye can’t help but follow your ass as you walk. that’s how crazy you make him, his brain going haywire at your close proximity. but once you’re far enough away it’s free to be tainted and lewd.

he doesn’t snap out of it until he hears you sigh, and he realizes you’re sat down in front of him again. “so, since i’m not familiar with you, i have a few questions.” he nods as a sign for you to continue. “what brings you here today?”

he laughs a little, “check up.”

you nod, “i know, i know. i gotta ask,” you look down at the pieces of paper again. “is there anything bothering you?” he shakes his head. “do you often drink alcohol or use drugs?”

he tilts his head, “how would i do that?” you shrug and adjust yourself in your seat.

“there’s beer and stuff here, and medications.” you say it like it’s obvious, which makes him turn red at how dumb he may have sounded. but the way you said it, like he was dumb for asking, it made his face heat up.

he just nods, your words starting to become scrambled with the more questions you ask. he half-ass responds to most of them, focused on how hot your voice was coming from your pretty lips. that’s when the next question shocks him and rips him out of his head.

“are you sexually active?”

he chokes on his spit, not knowing how to answer that. the other assistants have asked him that before. it always flustered him having to say no, but it’s much worse when it’s you. the girl he’s been eyeing for way too long. the one who makes him feel like some dumb kid, humiliating him even when it’s something small. even when others probably wouldn’t bat an eye at it. even though you may not even notice how it affects him.

not that he doesn’t like it.

he squints his eye shut in embarrassment, “no?”

“that didn’t seem like an answer.”

and there it goes again, little things like that. making him feel like he does nothing but sound like an idiot. it makes him want to hide away, but at the same time crawl back to you so you can make the embarrassment worse. it’s like you have him on a leash.

“no, i’m not.” his voice is barley above a whisper when he says it. he curses himself for sounding so meek and quiet. how do you reduce him to this? and so easily?

the look in your eyes is hard to decipher. it drives him crazy. did he just ruin his chances with you? did he sound like some pathetic guy? or maybe you didn’t care, and this is just some one-sided attraction and you’re weirded out by his behavior. at least you can’t see into his slutty mind.

“have you ever had sex?” he blinks confusedly at your words,

“the… the other assistants never asked me that-”

“but i am.” again you’re saying things so matter-of-factly it has him curling into himself a little. mostly to hide the ever growing problem in his pants. “answer.” he merely shakes his head, leading you to grab his chin with your hand. you’re standing up now, towering over him while he looks up at you wide-eyed.

“no.” his voice is so breathless, his pupils blown with lust. he tongue darts out to wet his lips, is he finally getting you how he wanted?

a smirk rises on your face, your hand trailing from his face to his bicep. your eyes stay on his, silently challenging him to look away. you lean closer, lips close to his before you whisper, “do you want to?”

the weak ‘please’ he lets out is all you need to press your lips to his. it’s harsh and rushed and has him whimpering. he’s hardly even kissed, and that was only once. honestly, you could tell. but the inexperience was what drew you to him.

you pull away to push him down. your actions caught him off guard, leaving him to fall clumsily with a huff. he doesn’t get a lot of time to register anything when you’re grabbing him harshly by the collar and pulling him into another rough kiss.

he whines against your lips, one hand coming up to your left breast. you swat it away, separating from his lips again to glare down at him. “you don’t get to touch unless you ask.” he lifts his head to give you an incredulous look before letting it fall back down. his hat falling off in the process.

your left hand to goes to his chest, and you give a harsh twist to his nipple, laughing when he yelps. “didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.” you smirk, letting your thumb run soothingly over the bud though his shirt. you hum, “physically, that is…” you run your hand down, stopping at the hem of his shirt. “i see how you act when i humiliate you in front of your little group.”

his breath picks up when your hand slides up his shirt, running along his abdomen. his pretty skinny, slightly toned from all the running and fighting he’s done. he whines out again, grabbing onto you in a way that’s pleading you to go further. to give him more.

you squint your eyes at him, “stop rushing me.” he goes to speak but just shuts his mouth, watching you with a needy, obedient gaze. “you’re gonna take what i give you, got it?” he nods quickly, his eye widening for a moment.

“i-i mean, yes. yes, yes, i got it.” you hum and slide his shirt up, muttering a ‘good’ under your breath. you trail kisses along his skin, starting above his jeans and stopping when you get to his chest.

you can’t help but smirk when your tongue hits his nipple, the way he flinched from sensitivity, you couldn’t help yourself. you listen to his whimpers get louder and breathing get heavier and more rapid with the more stimulation you provided to one side. so you switched, and the noises started all over again.

you glance at his neck, pride filling you at the sight of purple-red marks all over his skin. they went down to his collarbone, then more on his abdomen. some so others could see, some so just you can see.

“please,” he pants, leading your hand down to the tent in his pants. he hisses when you start to palm him through his jeans.

“please what?” you can’t even hide the amusement in your voice, it makes carl groan and shut his eye tightly.

“please touch me.” he breathes heavily, watching your hand travel to his zipper. “more.” you chuckle darkly, unbuttoning and tugging the fabric off his legs. he swallows thickly as he watches you play with the waistband of his underwear.

“you just keep begging and begging.” you tsk and shake your head. in reality, you love it. but you can’t pass up this opportunity. “you’re that desperate to get your dick wet?” you take his silence as an excuse to pinch his nipple again, smiling when he cries out.

carl sighs, brushing his sweaty hair from his forehead. “yes. okay, yes. just please.” his eye is slightly watery and he looks dazed and still rather confused on what to do. he gasps when you slide his underwear off, the cold air and how close your hand was ripped a moan from his throat.

you stand up, causing him to whine at the lack of contact. but the complaint he was about to dish out gets caught in his throat when you lift your shirt off. your work clothes hid the body you had underneath, which seemed so perfect to him that it felt criminal he hadn’t seen it until now.

his eye stayed on your body as you stripped down, watching you saunter off before coming back with a condom in hand. his eye widens and he looks at you hungrily, “do we have to?” you laugh and sit yourself on his lap,

“do you ask dumb questions on purpose?” carl purses his lips and stays silent, but you feel him twitch against your thigh. “you’re such a fucking loser.” you press your lips to his before he can speak, swallowing the whine he lets out at your crude words.

you’re suddenly taking your time, slowly sliding the condom over his cock. of course you pick now to tease him, he can’t help but squirm. “hips?” he asks dumbly, hovering his hands over your hips.

“are you asking to touch them?” he nods, causing you to scoff. “you’re already all dumb and i haven’t even fucked you yet.” his hands grip your hips, sliding your cunt over his length.

“then do it,” he whines out, letting his head fall back. “please.” you sigh, lifting up your hips and lining him with your entrance. you sink down on him slowly, adjusting to the feeling and wiggling your hips. all the while he’s a mess, trying to keep his noises as quiet as he can — which is still quite loud, not like you’re complaining.

you lean down to his ear, “you sound so pathetic.” you laugh, your breath hitting his skin causing him to shiver. your wiggling turns to grinding, which turns to bouncing. it left him a mess, gripping onto your hips like you’d disappear if he didn’t. he couldn’t stop the whines and whimpers of your name leaving his lips.

he lets his head fall into your neck when you tell him how loud he’s being. that laugh you let out every time you embarrass him is hypnotic. it’s like it commands his body to let go and fully be at your mercy. it leaves him feeling even more embarrassed, as he’s fought off being the small, inferior one. but the embarrassment you cause is good. it’s so bad and humiliating but it leaves his cock throbbing in his pants every time.

“i can’t,” he breathes out. “i can’t hold it. ‘have to-”

“hold it.” you snap, tangling your hands in his hair to pull his head back. you look him in the eye, “or you’re going to go again. and again, and again if your pathetic dick betrays you. you’re going to make me cum too.”

he nods frantically, letting his eyes fall to where your bodies connected. that was the wrong move, the sight alone had him cumming without even trying. you watch with an amused look at his face, scrunched up in a silent moan. his body shook and his grip got tighter before his arms fell.

he pants heavily, slowly lifting his head to look at you. he grunts when you slide off of him quickly, too quick. you laid beside him and tug his body on top of yours. you took note of his dazed look, erratic breaths and flushed face. he was so dumbed down, but you couldn’t have him thinking you’re a liar?

“cmon,” you nudge his side with a laugh. his glazed over eye meets yours with confusion. “aww, you didn’t think i was serious.” you coo, running your thumb over his cheek. “i’ll use you as my own sex doll until i get what i want.”

his face flushed a deep cherry red, but he gets the message. and even though he’s so fucking sensitive, and so dumb, already unknowing of what to so, he slides into you again with a hiss. his thrusts are erratic, messy, and fast. you can’t help but giggle, causing carl to grimace. he couldn’t tell when you were laughing out of joy, or if he was doing something dumb again.

“please, be quick.” his rushed voice gave away his approaching orgasm. his face buries into your neck, lazily biting at your skin. “can i touch you?”

you hum, letting out a moan when he hits a certain spot. but he’s so far gone he misses it, unlike before when he would’ve taken notice of anything that made you feel good. “touch me where?”

he breathes out, letting his head come out from its hiding spot to watch what he’s doing. he shakily trails his hand down your body, landing near your clit. “here?” you move his fingers so they’re in the right spot, muttering something about how dumb he’s being. he feels his face heat up and he swore he could cum from your remarks alone.

he circles his fingers, starting slow but eventually speeding up to match the speed of his cock inside you. he whimpers, watching as he pumps in and out of you in awe. he looks up at you, using his free hand to hold onto your waist. “close? please tell me you’re close. i can’t hold on and i can’t go again.”

he babbles into your ear, losing his composure completely. he nearly screams out a ‘thank you’ when you tell him to cum with you, his hold on your waist near bruising as he does. he can’t even move, slumping down onto your body. his arms wrapping around you to hold you close.

he hears you chuckle, and he curses his body for reacting the way it does. but all you do is grab his hat, placing it back on his head from whenever it had fallen.

taglist :: @carlslvr @hiro--aoki @carlsangel @mozzeralla-stix @carlmipololo @carlgrimesgfofficial @livingdeadgirlflorette

if you recognize this, it’s because it is a rewrite because the og was a hot mess ♡

[stevesjockstrap]

Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad?

Based on this post

Or, Steve invites Craigslist!Eddie to Thanksgiving as his fake boyfriend for entertainment and drama purposes

Rated: T? Always with the swearing idk | read on ao3

ETA a/n: shout out to @rocknrollsalad for a direct quote in here and putting up with me and @machtaholic for encouraging this 🖤

“Are you serious?”

Steve sighed. “Yes, Robbie. You know how much my parents have been on me since they’re losing what little power they have left. This is going to be awesome.”

She was pacing around their living room, making him anxious. “But why are you going to take this stranger from Craigslist? Why can’t you find someone you know? Argyle would do it. What if this guy doesn’t show, or he comes and steals something?”

“If he doesn’t show I’m in the same boat anyhow, but hey, there’s a thought. You think I can pay him more to steal something from my parents? I’d love to see that.”

“Steve!” She rounded on him, eyes wide. “You’re paying him? You didn’t tell me that!”

“For fuck’s sake, Rob. He didn’t ask for money, the post actually said he would do it just for food. But the guy’s driving half an hour and I’m willing to bet my family is worse than he’s expecting. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy. Read this and tell me this isn’t exactly what I need.” He scrolled on his phone and handed it to her.

Her shoulders relaxed as she read on, laughing finally, “You’re not going to make him propose or fight your dad on the front lawn, right?”

“Maybe for Christmas,” he smirked.

His parent’s house was always so cold and empty. It was his childhood home but he had never really felt any attachment to it. His apartment with Robin was small and cluttered but cozy, and full of memories of them and their friends. They had done a Friendsgiving the previous weekend that had been a dangerously good time. (The smoke detector had only gone off three times, a new record.)

Running his hand through his hair again, he looked at the clock. Would Eddie show? He checked his phone again, knowing there were no missed texts because he had just looked thirty seconds ago. Why was he more nervous about meeting him than introducing him to his family? They’d had one phone call and some texts, mostly arranging the time and place and Steve already apologizing for his family.

Eddie had laughed, “It’s okay, Steve. Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse.”

He went to the bathroom, just to kill time.

And of course the doorbell rang.

He quickly washed and dried his hands, sparing a second to pull his hair into a less raked-through mess.

Quickening his pace when he saw his mom still holding the door open, not allowing whoever was on the stoop in, he craned his neck to see out the door.

Oh fuck.

“If you’d just go get him, ma’am, we could clear this all up,” Eddie was saying. The words were polite but there was an edge to them, just the tinge of a sneer on his lips. It was perfect.

“He’s mine,” he heard himself say. His mom whipped around, eyes crazed and mouth open. “Uh- I mean,” his eyes returned to Eddie standing on his doorstep. Taking in the long thick wavy hair, big brown eyes, his lips pulled into a toothy grin now. He’d clearly attempted to dress up, grey slacks and a black button down, paired with heavy combat boots. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal tattoos up his forearms and the backs of his hands. There were more tattoos on his neck, and Steve’s eyes glued themselves to the ring through his lip. Guh. “He’s, uh, here for me.”

“Hi Steve,” he watched the lips form. “Was just meeting your lovely mother.” Again there was nothing wrong with the words themselves, nothing anyone could pinpoint or take offense to. But that slithery way he said it with a razor sharp sting, Steve was impressed. He was clearly an expert at this.

Steve tried to school his own expression and voice. “My apologies. Mom, this is Eddie, my boyfriend.”

There was a long silence where he thought his mom was going to combust. She opened and closed her mouth several times, her eyebrows furrowed. He’d never seen her speechless before.

Eddie sent him a smirk and he almost matched it but his mom looked at him finally and stammered, “Y-your, ah, I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes and pulled in a steadying breath. When she opened them she asked, “He’s your boyfriend?”

“Yes ma’am,” Eddie answered from almost behind her now as she turned to question Steve.

“And why is it you didn’t tell us he was coming? Why is he ringing the doorbell like a stranger?”

“I, um, well I did think he’d text when he got here or something…” Steve started, meeting Eddie’s eyes over her shoulder.

“What, and miss out on this warm welcome?” Eddie winked at him but quickly settled his face when his mom turned to him. Doing the exact thing he’d hoped for, Mrs. Harrington remembering she’s leaving a guest out on her doorstep.

Steve delighted in the fact that this was going to be a chess match and his mother was already several moves behind.

Her eyes narrowed and she held a hand out to welcome Eddie in, walking them all into the foyer. “Well, don’t let me stop you, go ahead and greet your boyfriend, Steven.”

It was a challenge, he knew, but they hadn’t discussed this. Eddie was on the ball, however. He continued his momentum to slide a hand under Steve’s suit jacket to settle on his ribs and the other he brought up to cup his face, leaning in and angling their heads together. Steve tried to relax and closed his eyes. Eddie pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but from where his mom was standing she wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Hey, baby. Missed you,” he breathed when he pulled away. Steve was halfway to believing this himself.

“Yeah,” he sighed stupidly.

Eddie pulled his hands away and he almost reached back for them before stopping himself with a shake. He found he’d only gone a foot away when he opened his eyes though. Oh he was in trouble.

His mother cleared her throat from behind Eddie like she hadn’t put them up to this. Steve reached out for his hand and held onto it.

“Okay so I’m going to go introduce him to everyone else,” he said quickly and walked further into the house. Holding his hand.

They made their way through the dining room, Steve taking more and more pleasure with each stilted interaction Eddie weaved through with his family members.

His dad was propped in the living room with his uncle and Steve could feel his eyes on him as they made their way around. He knew his mother had ran to tell him all about it but he wouldn’t take being ignored well. It was making his skin crawl but he knew it would further piss off his dad so he kept it up.

After everyone else had been formally introduced to Eddie and Steve had gulped half a glass of wine, he felt almost ready to go deal with him. He took Eddie’s hand again and turned, but navigated them to the sliding glass door and outside instead.

It was chilly, late November in Indiana, but it felt amazing after the stuffiness of the house.

Steve remembered he still had Eddie’s hand in his and he quickly dropped it. “Uh, you smoke?”

Eddie grinned, all teeth and tongue as he held a battered pack of Newports out to him. “Not usually, really, but it makes for a good prop. Sorry they’re shit.”

“Holy shit. You’re amazing. I mean- perfect, I mean- fuck.” Steve laughed and shook his head. “The on-the-spot fact checking of my aunt’s political shit was next level. You could do this year round and make a killing, man.” He did pull a cigarette out of the pack and Eddie leaned into him, clicking the lighter for him, meeting his eyes as Steve sucked in.

“I don’t-“

The door slid open behind them and Mr. Harrington walked out.

“Looks like you and your date are avoiding me, Steven,” he said. Steve watched as he gave Eddie a very slow up and down look.

“No, dad. Just needed a break. It’s warm in there.” He made his face remain neutral. It’s not like anyone was cooking anything, his mom always got their big family meals catered.

His dad narrowed his eyes at him as he held eye contact, taking a drag from his bummed cigarette.

“Where is Robin today?”

He sighed. “With her family, dad. And for the last time, I’m not dating Robin. She’s a lesbian. This is Eddie, by the way. My date? He’s my boyfriend.”

When Steve had tried to come out as bisexual to his parents, his dad especially had made it clear that he did not accept that about his only child. As the years went on and he hadn’t spoken much about this part of his life, it seemed his dad had hoped it just went away.

Mr. Harrington scoffed, “I don’t understand why you want to throw your life away, Steven. I thought we’d raised you better-“ Eddie made a noise next to him and Steve knew he couldn’t look at him or he’d burst out laughing.

“Save it, dad. Believe it or not I love my life. Which is something I’d never thought I would be able to say. Can you even say that?”

His dad shook his head disappointedly and walked back inside.

“Excellent job. I don’t think you need me here after all,” Eddie joked.

Steve propped himself against the wall of the house, deeply tired from having to defend his choices to his dad for the umpteenth time.

“Maybe not need. But it’s been really fun having you here. Usually dinner conversation is about how big of a disappointment I am. Oh, I guess I didn’t give you that backstory. I’m graduating with my masters in psychology in the spring, and I’ve been early accepted into a PhD program. And there’s no money in helping people,” he chuckled. “So.” He scuffed out the butt with his heel and left it on his dad’s pristine patio.

“Steve. That’s amazing! Congratulations.” Eddie seemed genuinely excited for him and it brought a small smile to his face. “You look like you could really use a hug, man. Can I hug you?”

“Of course.” If he let himself hold on for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary, Eddie allowed it.

Dinner was quiet. His uncle asked Eddie what he did for work and he enthusiastically explained he was a line cook and worked nights at a bar. Steve surreptitiously looked around to take in everyone’s expressions and quickly covered his mouth with his napkin. He actually enjoyed himself during a holiday dinner for the first time he could remember.

Eddie at one point threw an arm around the back of his chair and he leaned in a bit into him, catching the disapproving stares they got from the corner of his eye.

Pie was passed around and by then Steve had had another glass of wine or two. He reached over to thumb the whipped cream from the side of Eddie’s lip without thinking, before popping the thumb into his own mouth. Eddie’s eyes widened and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize but he caught himself.

“Thanks, babe,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

After saying their awkward goodbyes to everyone, Steve walked Eddie to his van. He looked down at his feet, fiddling with his keys.

“Hey, um, this may be out of left field and let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Eddie waited for Steve to nod. “Do you want to come to my uncle’s with me tomorrow night? It’s just the two of us and he always volunteers to work the holiday. But we do a thing, you know. A-and he’s always bugging me to bring someone.”

Steve blinked. “Would it have to be a fake date? I’m not as skilled at that as you are.”

“No, I mean, it wouldn’t- god I suck. I’m actually asking, like for real. If that’s okay? Just be you. And I’ll just be me.”

“That’s very okay. I’d really like that.” He couldn’t hold back his smile. Taking the chance, he leaned in, Eddie meeting him in the middle to finally press their lips together.

[hazel-tanthamore22]

Money Trees

Fluff

Req

Megan Skeindal x Broke!Boxer!freader

A/n: Stationed in LA. Reader is a puncher and a punching bag. Megan is the caring ginger labradoodle she is.

Sypnosis: You love being a fighter, the feeling, adrenaline and its the only thing that helps you get by. But Megan hates it, knowing she could give you want you need and more.

Another jab to the side has you wince in pain. The opponent goes for another headshot but you duck below it, landing an uppercut on them and sealing the win.

After the winning announcement is made you go back to your dressing room and look into the mirror. A bruise on your temple, a busted lip and a bruise on your side. Megan wasn't going to be happy.

Boxing made you feel content in a way. You get to let put your anger on other people and you get payed, it's an all win situation, especially since you need the money.

You get a good amount of money per win, a few hundreds and if you're lucky, a thousand or two. Megan has persisted on and on that she gets enough as an Idol and can take care of you, but you refuse each time.

She hates seeing you hurt, seeing the bruises and cuts every other day makes her sulky, not liking the sight of you hurt.

You change into your training clothes and step out of the room with your duffel bag slinged over you shoulder. Your coach hands you an ice pack for your lip as he congratulates you.

You walk out to your car, sitting in the driver's seat as you open your phone. A missed text from Megan. A smile comes to your face as you open the text, she's asking for you to come to the kats house.

You set the ice bag in the passenger seat as you start the car, soon pulling out of the venues parking lot and driving to the kats house.

You park the car and wear you face mask, and cap, not wanting to alert the kats, they knew you were a fighter, but it didn't mean you didn't get scolded by them for having bruises every other day.

You knock on the door, waiting till you're met with the familiar Red hair of Lara. "Megan, you're wife's here" she yells into the house as she let's you in. You hear a loud shut up before a body crashes into yours.

"Nice to see you too Yoonchip" you chuckle, your voice a bit muffled by the mask. "Another fight" Sophia asks as she walks around the living room, seemingly fixing some things. You hum as Yoonchae let's go of you and Megan finally get downstairs.

She wastes no time grabbing your hand and dragging you upstairs to her room. Obviously you follow like a lovesick puppy. "Sit" she says, her voice stern as she nods her head to her bed and walks to her closet grabbing the medkit she kept with her ever since she started dating you.

You sit on her bed and she walks back to you, taking off your mask and cap. She frowns at the bruise on your temple and the red swollen corner of your lip. She gets a gauze pad from the med kit in next to her.

She presses it to the corner of your lip, almost with zero care, causing you to wince. "Meg, I know you're mad-" you start just to be cut off by her pressing the gauze pad harder to the wound.

"How many times have I told you, you don't have to keep fighting, I could take of you" she mumbles, removing the gauze pad from your lip and finally looking in your eyes after staring down your bruises.

"I know but-" you start, just fo be cut off again. "No, do you think this getting you small amounts of money is a justifiable reason?" She cups your face in her hands. "Please stop, I don't like seeing you beat up, what if one day you lose and it's bad, maybe even fatal? What am I gonna do then" her voice wavers as tears build in her eyes.

You sigh heavily, pulling her into your lap as you hug her. "Fine, I'll stop" you mumble into her shoulder. You hear her exhale shakily as you agree to stop fighting.

Megan finishes dressing your wounds, the one on your side being the most painful, you may or may not have a fractured rib bit that can be dealt with when Megan isn't clinging to you like a koala and definitely when it's not night.

Night had fallen in LA. You decided to stay in the kats house, playing video games with Dani and Manon and helping Sophia and Lara control them two. When everyone had retired to their own rooms you found yourself next to Megan in her bed.

Both of you dozing in and put of sleep as you make pointless conversation and laughter.

"Were you being for real" she mumbles as she looks in your eyes in the dark. "About the fighting? Yes, ill stop for you love." You respond, your eyes drooping as you answer. She smiles, her hands wrapping around your waist as she nozzles her face into your neck.

"Goodnight" she mumbles. "Goodnight love" You respond as you both fall asleep in the comfort of each other's arms and presence.

[halfwayhearted]

Hii! Realy love your work!!!🫶🏻

Can you write for an fluff with pedri? the reader is a very independent person, as if she wouldn't ask anyone for help even if she was in a car accident 💀💀💀 and like pedri want help her in everything but she don't let him, she don't ask for help. But end of the day she's just grow up like this and she don't know how ask for help and she just start cry and maybe pedri comfort her???? It would be cute☹️

Yo Quisiera — Pedri González.

Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader

Summary: Where all he wants is to be there for you.

Word Count: 850+

Disclaimer/s — Not much, slight angst (not really), + comfort!

A/N: HEY SO. Well, first of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH??? AND second of all, sickening, but I loved it, I hope you did too! ^_^ Listening to AOT openings and endings, wow just kill me now

It wasn’t your fault that you were unable to ask for help, nor was it his. Yet, for some strange reason, you still felt completely hopeless about it. He’d told you countless times that he’d always be there for you if you needed anything. Pedri was patient, so very patient, while you were left feeling… guilty.

And so here you were, standing outside his house with your hands fidgeting together. It’s been a horrible week, and all you need right now is him.

You don’t know how to do it, though. All your life, you’ve been told to just suck it up and that you can do it all by yourself—and they were right! You didn’t need anyone to do anything for you. Truly.

But now? Now, you’re not so sure.

Picking up the pieces came naturally to you. This feeling you’re feeling is temporary, right? You’re fine! Yeah, you’re totally fine. More than that even.

With that in mind, you let out a sigh and lift your fist, ready to knock when the door swings open.

Your eyes widen instantly; it’s almost comical.

Pedri offered a smile. “I knew you were here. Nilo was whining,” he tells you, holding out a hand, slowly grabbing your wrist, and pulling you inside.

“Sorry, I was just about to knock.” All he does is hum in response, placing a kiss on your temple and shutting the door. “So… how was practice?”

“Good-ish. It’s getting hotter.”

“Ish,” you echo with a laugh, nodding your head.

“How was work?”

Oh, sore subject unfortunately. “It was ish.” That was your way of joking through it, even with the swarming thoughts that kept clouding your mind.

Though he can tell something’s wrong. The way your smile wanes slightly when your laughter subsides. You’re like an open book to him, but he wouldn’t tell you that anytime soon. He tilts his head and utters your name. “Are you alright?”

Lifting your head, your eyebrows furrow. “Hm? Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Just wanted to see you.”

Of course. Pedri should’ve been expecting that.

“Just wanted to see me,” your boyfriend repeats, taking a step towards you. “You can talk to me.”

When you don’t reply, he continues, “Let me in?”

Let me in, his words make you avert your gaze. It wasn’t that easy, was it? You don’t even know what to do. Well, you didn’t think you did, at least.

Apparently, the only response you can muster is letting your eyes well up with unshed tears. Fuck.

This really wasn’t what you wanted to do.

The sight of your glossy eyes is enough for him to cup your face. “Hold on. Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Your brain is short-circuiting. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to me, cariño,” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

Why would he say that.

That’s when you feel the tears start to trail down your cheeks, and you can’t stop them from falling. A small sob escapes your lips, and he immediately embraces you. One hand rests on your head, fingers running through your hair, while the other holds you close, chin resting on top of your head.

“People suck,” you finally manage to get out.

He already knows what that means—your job. You must’ve dealt with a ton of rude customers, complaints, and who knows what else. “…yeah?”

Yeah. You wrap your arms around him, nodding against him, not trusting your voice to sound completely steady. Tears still wetting his shirt.

After a couple more minutes, when Pedri notices your sniffles are becoming less frequent, he pulls back. His expression is so soft it almost makes you want to cry more, but you don’t. Yeah, don’t.

“Okay, take a shower, and when you come out, dinner will be ready, and we can watch whatever. Wind down. How does that sound?” He asked.

You nod. “Do I smell or something?”

“What? I never said that! It could be relaxing.”

“I’m messing with you,” a pause. “Thank you, Pedro. Really. Oh, and I’m sorry. For your shirt.”

The man looks down. “It’s okay. It’s just a shirt. Don’t worry about that. Plus, it’s proof you let me in,” he grins, doing his utmost to lift the mood.

Yeah, you guess it is.

Before you could, he raises his hands and wipes your eyes tenderly. The action makes you grasp his wrists, and you lean up to place a small, lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth, causing his smile to spread even wider. You feel better.

“I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Here. Both literally and figuratively. It’s enough to make your lips quirk up slightly. “You’ll be here,” you chirp, brushing past him. “I’ll be super quick.”

“That defeats the whole relaxing purpose.”

“What? I can’t hear you!” And with that, you hear his laugh and can’t help but smile—actually smile. You didn’t exactly ask for help, but you know that if you did—when you do, he’d be there for you.

And Pedri hopes that you realize just how deeply this moment will forever replay in his memories.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedriache + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @ferrarifudds + @levidazai + @gadriezmannsgirl + @sakashq + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ

[dpimagines]

Blind Date

SYNOPSIS: Wade is set up with a friend of Ellie's and Yukio's. It goes better than anyone expected it to.

Warnings / Notes: Mentions of past bullying, Deadpool being Deadpool (But His Sweet Side, so Mildly OOC) / I'm super open to writing a continuation of this! This is uncharacteristically fluffy of me, so I'm craving the smut or angst we could get out of this. Shoot me a request if you have any ideas!

Yukio squeals. Wade’s used to her giddy noises, squeaks and giggles and the like. Ellie still cringes like it’s the first time she’s ever heard it, but she still looks at Yukio like it’s the first time she’s ever seen someone so beautiful every time she looks at her, so it balances out. 

“What is it?” Ellie asks, stirring vegetables around a sizzling pan. Wade somehow managed to invite himself to their fajita lunch, and smelling the food makes his stomach growl.

“Y/N!” Yukio exclaims.

“Where?” Ellie says, looking around. 

“No, silly, we should set Wade up with Y/N!”

“Why? Are you mad at her?” Ellie remarks. 

“She literally cannot help but romance Hancock on every Fallout 4 playthrough. Seriously.” 

“That’s your basis? A crush on a fictional character?” Ellie asks, and Wade could spot her amused-bordering-on-pissed expression from miles away. You must be special to her in some way. 

“Well, she… Y’know, she’s different.”

“You think she should settle for him just because of her mutation?” 

“No! No, not at all! I meant her personality! She’s so sweet and patient and stuff!” Yukio quickly says. 

“So why would we torture her by sticking her with him?”

“Y’know, you girls haven’t even asked me if I’d be interested. What if I think she’s a total butterface? What if I talk about my ex-fiancée the whole time? What if she’s too pretty for me? What if-?”

“You asking those questions means you’re interested,” Ellie cuts him off dismissively. “Fine, Yukio. You win. Go for it.”

“Texting her now! Yeah, she’s interested. Just let me know what you’re planning and I’ll tell her when and how to dress.”

“Oh, uh… Maybe a movie?”

“That’d be good,” Ellie says quickly. “That’s a really good idea.”

“She’s ugly, isn’t she?”

Ellie glares daggers.

“Never mind, not a movie. Dinner… At De Luca.”

“De Luca?!” Yukio exclaims. 

“Uh, yeah? That’s a place people go for dates around here, isn’t it?”

“It better be your treat, that place is expensive!” Ellie demands.

“Well, duh. You guys seem to forget that unaliving people pays incredibly well. Anyways, what’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing,” Ellie insists.

“If he doesn’t know, he might hurt her feelings,” Yukio insists. 

“He can ask her himself. Let her say it in her own words, share what she wants to share.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna fuck this up,” Wade already knows. “But at least she’ll get a free meal out of it. How about tonight? The anticipation is already killing me.”

Yukio texts, before looking up and nodding. 

“What time?” she asks.

“Can she meet me in the foyer at five?” he suggests. She types some more. 

“It’s a date!” she cheers. 

“And lunch is served,” Ellie declares gloomily. 

“So, what’s the deal with you and her, then?”

“Ellie dealt with some bullying when she first got here,” Yukio explains. “It was mostly light-hearted teasing, but it was just too soon, and with some people, it kinda got out of hand. Y/N was a senior at the time and stood up for her. From then on, she’s admired her and is always looking for opportunities to repay the favor.”

“That is so fucking cute I could die,” Wade coos. “I’ll take good care of her, I promise.”

“Hearing that coming from you, I’m more concerned,” Ellie grumbles, pushing a plate towards him. “Just eat. And be respectful. Now, and then.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Wade replies before digging in. 

A few hours later, Wade invites Yukio to give him one last once over before he meets you at the door, and her shadow has trailed along diligently. Yukio gives him some helpful pointers while Ellie sulks in silence, still not a huge fan of this idea.

“Lose the mask,” Ellie finally contributes.

“Lose the- No! If I’m paying this much for food, she better be able to eat it!”

“You didn’t seem to mind the price earlier. Besides… She’s not like that. Yukio had a point earlier. Your face works in your favor, this time around. It’s everything else about you that you need to tone down a little,” Ellie argues. 

“Fine. But when she throws up, I’m calling you down there to clean it up,” Wade retorts, taking off the mask. He feels naked without it despite his suit and loafers. This is the nicest he’s dressed since his mother’s funeral.

“There we go,” Yukio says with a beam. “Perfect. Now, go! It’s almost time.”

“Thank you, my fairy godmothers. Wait, it’s not offensive to call you guys fairies, is it? ‘Cause I didn’t-”

“Go,” Ellie insists. He scurries downstairs. You’re not there yet, but there’s a young woman lurking around down there. He hesitantly joins her, and she looks at him with surprise before smiling. Wow, she’s gorgeous, so pretty that he starts to question if she’s a figment of his imagination.

“Wade?” you ask. Your voice sounds like Negasonic’s, so much so that it’s weird, but he brushes it off as best as he can.   

“Y/N?” No way, you’re stunning in a flowy knee-length dress and mary janes, your hair styled in an effortlessly pretty way. You might just be the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen. 

You nod, offering your hand to him. Your eyes say, “Shall we?” He hesitantly takes your hand. Your smile widens. He leads you outside. You trail alongside him to the car, letting your hands swing together, though not too much.

He lets go of your hand to open the door for you. You get seated, and he closes it, quickly making his way to the driver’s seat. 

“Sorry it’s kind of a beater, I can’t be driving anything too showy for obvious reasons.”

You shrug, but he can tell it doesn’t bother you.

“Not much of a talker, huh? I guess that’s why our friends thought we’d work. I talk, you listen, very cutesy…But I need someone to feed off of to be funny, so you better be up to the challenge.”

You giggle, covering your mouth. 

The drive to the restaurant is in awkward silence. He really doesn’t know what to say. He could ask you about yourself, but that might make you uncomfortable considering how little you’re willing to speak. He could start talking about himself, but that has the potential to put you off for more than one reason – either you’ll be disturbed by his life story, or he’ll come across as self-absorbed. 

The two of you enter and despite a wary look from the hostess, you’re seated relatively quickly. 

You’re brought ice water and bread. 

“Damn, this place is fancy…” Wade remarks as you sip your water. You smile sheepishly. “Hm… You seem normal. I was told there was something different about you. In fact, when Yukio had the idea to set us up, Ellie accused her of thinking you should have to settle for someone like me because of your mutation. I was expecting, I don’t know, snakes for hair, Silly Putty for fingers, something. I’m gonna start guessing if you don’t come out with it.”

Your sweet smile changes into a devilish smirk as you challenge him with your eyes. He realizes it’s more entertaining for the both of you if he does attempt to guess, so he gives it a shot. 

“Acid spit?” he asks. You shake your head. “Hiding a third boob in there?” he wonders, lifting his head and looking down for it despite your somewhat modest neckline. Your face scrunches up with amusement as you shake your head again. “Damn it. Can’t blame a guy for hoping. What about another face on the back of your head, Voldemort-style? That would be kinda cool.”  

You shake your head once more, though you’re clearly amused by his attempts to figure it out. 

“Wait,” he says, lowering his voice to a whisper: “Does your vagina kill people? Like that one girl on American Horror Story?”

“No,” you finally say, laughing. “It’s my voice.” 

“Whoa,” he murmurs. 

“Yeah, I can only speak words I’ve heard before exactly as I heard them last.”

“That’s why you sounded like Ellie earlier, when you said my name. She was the last person you heard say it.”

“Exactly,” you reply. 

“Well, that’s not so bad.”

“Most of the time,” you agree. “But I can’t always control my TONE!”

You slap a hand over your mouth as your fellow guests give you brief glances of concern and confusion. 

“Tone,” he says in a normal volume. 

“Tone,” you echo with a look of astonishment. “They call me Spirit Box.”

“Like the things ghost hunters use, right? That’s so cool. You must be great for espionage. Just bring you along as a secretary or assistant or whatever, then slap some headphones on you and turn up some instrumental music all the way ‘til you can get to a recording device and repeat what you heard.”

“I suppose so, but honestly most of the time I just hang out. I have some martial arts training, but when someone can choose between that and a human bomb, WELL, it’s not really a choice,” you explain. 

“Well,” he says for you. “I think it’s super cool. Normally, I get bored listening to other people talk. I doubt that’ll ever happen with you.”

“I might as well warn you- Damn it,” you swear. It’s in his voice. 

“What is it?”

“If I say this word I’m going to end up yelling it.”

“Uh, wanna type it out on your phone? I can read it.”

You blush, shaking your head. 

“Sounds are the same way. Even when I laugh it’s not MINE.”

“Mine,” he repeats, as you seem to appreciate it. “I don’t understand why I’d need a warning for- Oh. Gotcha.”

“I may be an alright… Talker to you, but I doubt you’d want to hear a man’s voice during sex!” Your eyes water as they avoid his in shame. Someone said that to you, and harshly. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I don’t repeat that,” he murmurs, reaching for your hand. You give it to him, your hands resting together on the table. “Besides, I’m pansexual, so, honestly… It’d be kinda hot. Best of both worlds.”

“No kidding,” you reply. It’s all Ellie. “That’s great!” you chirp in Yukio’s voice. 

“You’re pretty good friends with those two, huh?”

You nod. 

“Keeping a small circle helps with consistency,” you add. “But I’m a TV addict, so…”

“Me, too. That totally makes sense. Oh, we should look at the menus. I’ll order for you, if you want.”

“Please,” you moan, swiftly retracting your hand to cover your mouth once more as your cheeks flush. He laughs.

“I’m not repeating that, either. Hot,” he teases you.

“You’re mean,” you reply with a laugh, his laugh. 

“Please,” he says. “Forgive me.”

You smile in response before looking over the menu. 

“You haven’t said anything about my face,” he realizes.

“Oh, sorry. You’re very handsome.” You don’t even look up, still looking for something appetizing. “No prices. Yikes. What are you getting?”

“Uh… Seriously. You don’t wanna ask?”

“I think you should tell me when you’re ready. I meant it, though. I think you’re very handsome.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “I think I’m gonna go with the seafood alfredo.”

The rest of the date goes swimmingly, the two of you conversing on various topics: TV shows and music you both like (and exchanging recommendations,) he shares his story (you fawned over him, maybe a little too much,) your careers (you transcribe classes at Xavier’s for students who are Deaf and/or have learning disabilities, he’s a…freelancer. You giggled at that. He doesn’t care whose sweet little giggle that is, it’s yours now,) and more. 

All good things must come to an end, though. Once dinner’s over, the two of you head back to the school. He walks you all the way to your room. 

“This was really nice,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

“It was,” he agrees. “Can I see you again? Maybe you could come up with a list of words for me to say for you, and I can say them for you over lunch.”

“That’s so sweet, Wade. I’d really like that, but I feel bad. Is there anything like that-” you cover your mouth again at the unmistakably pornographic tone, but he removes your hand gently with an amused smile. 

“Keep going,” he encourages you. “Like that.”

“Is there anything like that I could do for you?” 

“Well, you wanted to go on a date with me after seeing my face, so, you kinda already did.”

You open your mouth, but close it quickly. 

“What is it that you’re needing to say?” he asks quietly, like he’s trying not to embarrass you in front of someone else despite the two of you being alone in the quiet hallway, the only sound besides you both being the ticking on an old grandfather clock. You raise your hand, touching his lips. “You want to kiss me?”

“Yes, I want to kiss you.” 

Wade grins before taking your cheeks in his hands and uniting your lips with his for the first time. Neither of you wants to pull away, but air is an unfortunate necessity. 

You take your phone out of your purse, tapping around before presenting it to him on the Add New Contact screen. He eagerly types in his name and contact details, adding in the notes: “Just FYI after the whole Weapon X debacle I am hung like a horse and have an incredible refractory period. I only mention the refractory period because I’m pretty sure I’d explode if you even looked at it. Seriously, you are MAJORLY hot” 

He passes the phone back to you, and you look. You turn red before nodding in understanding. 

“Goodnight, Wade.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 11)

summary: hugh tries to keep his thoughts at bay, tries to calm down, but he can't help but worry about you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: just a short chapter! needed to have these two make up ASAP bc i miss them lol. gonna be some good fluffy / smutty chapters (to make up for the angst lol) before we get back to it. as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

Hugh watches you leave the hotel room and there’s a part of him that wants to go after you, but there’s an anger that’s still bubbling within him. All he can think about is Jack putting his hands on you. All he can see is that man’s smug face thinking he could get away with the abuse and damage he’s caused you. 

He didn’t realize that your wounds were deeper than what you showed him. Hugh curls his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the inside of his palm. He needs to calm down, needs to understand it from your perspective. 

But he can’t. 

And every time that he tries to, Jack just appears in his mind. The same smirk he had that night. The threatening tone of voice he had. He should have hit him when he had the chance – his reputation of the “nice guy” be damned. 

He’s pacing the room. He can’t settle down and every few minutes or so, he’ll glance at the door in hopes that you’ll walk through it. 

But you don’t. 

And he’s left feeling disappointed every time. 

He grabs his phone, hovering over your contact name to give you a call, but for some reason, Hugh can’t bring himself up to just press the button. He has to give you your space, even though he doesn’t want to. You haven’t been gone that long – maybe an hour max – but he can’t help but the tug he feels in his chest, the pull that he feels for you. 

So instead of calling you, he just sets his phone in his pocket and turns on the television. Hugh isn’t paying attention, but he needs to have some background noise to drown out the thoughts that swarm his mind. He walks to the patio and sits down on the chair, running a hand over his face in frustration. 

He doesn’t even know where you would have gone – this city still being so new to the both of you. Hugh does glance back into the room and notices that your camera is missing, so he has to wonder if you’re distracting yourself by doing the one thing you love most. 

Hugh shuts his eyes, resting his head back against the chair as he tries to quiet his mind, and tries to meditate to ease the nagging thoughts that linger. He focuses on his breathing, focuses on a center point in the middle of his forehead, but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. His eyes fly open and he reaches for his phone, seeing your contact name across the screen and his heart jumps at the sight. 

Hugh opens the message and breathes a sigh of relief. You tell him that you’re heading back and Hugh quickly stands from the chair and grabs his hotel key card to leave the room. He quickly jogs to the elevator and repeatedly presses the down button – he needs to see you and he can’t just wait for you in the room. 

—

This was your first argument with Hugh and you hate it. You hate it because at the center of it all is Jack. Even after all this time, he’s still trying to ruin your life. You knew that Hugh would react the way he did after telling him what you dealt with in your relationship with Jack, but you didn’t expect him to raise his voice and you certainly didn’t expect him to not understand. Hugh had always been very level-headed and had always tried to put himself in other people’s shoes to understand their perspective, but with you and with this topic, he just couldn’t. 

All he could think and see is Jack hitting you. Abusing you. Saying untrue, hurtful things. And you didn’t need Hugh to focus on that. You should have known better and you shouldn’t have expected him to overlook that. 

Truthfully, you had expected (or rather wished) that he would just have pulled you into his arms and tell you that you’re safe with him. You didn’t want to leave the hotel room, didn’t want to leave him but you couldn’t stay either because you knew that if you did, things would have been said that both of you would end up regretting. 

You had only left for over an hour, taking photographs of the city – using your ability to take pictures as a way to distract you, but as the minutes passed, you feel a tug in the center of your chest, a pull in the pit of your stomach. 

You start to miss Hugh, can feel that you’ve already settled down from the emotions you felt during your conversation, so you send him a text that you’re heading back to the hotel. 

—

You climb out of the cab and begin walking inside of the hotel, glancing down at your phone. You let out a sigh when you realize that Hugh hadn’t texted you back and you’re afraid that he’s still angry, still livid that you begin to second guess if coming back was even a good idea. 

But as you slowly look up, you see him standing there with his hands in his pockets and eyes filled with so much relief at the sight of you. The corner of his lips turn upwards and he begins walking towards you, closing the distance and pulling you instantly into his arms. You let out a sigh of relief, cheek resting against his chest as your own arms snake around his frame. 

Hugh presses a soft kiss on the top of your head, using one hand to rub your back. You both stand in the hotel lobby, arms wrapped around each other as you focus on the rhythmic beat of his heart. You can feel tears begin to trickle at the corners of your eyes, so you pull back just enough to look up at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know,” you reply, biting your lower lip. “Can we go back to the room?” 

Hugh nods and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. He pulls away from your arms and takes your bag and camera, draping it over one shoulder as he reaches over to take your hand in his. It doesn’t take long before you both make it back to the hotel room and Hugh’s setting down your things very carefully on the dresser. 

He turns around and looks at you, can see the way your eyes are glistening with unshed tears. Hugh slowly reaches out for your hand and gently pulls you to him, free arm snaking around your waist. 

“I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” Hugh whispers. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I should have just listened and–”

You shake your head and move your own hands to rest on his chest, thumbs brushing against the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t blame you, but I also shouldn’t have left.”

“You had every right to leave.” 

“But I shouldn’t have.”

“You were right. We would have said some things that we both would regret. Space was what we both needed,” Hugh says softly. “I just – I love you so much.” He stares into your eyes, his own tears pooling at the corners. “And I just want to protect you and keep you safe and–” he feels his breath catch in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

Slowly, you bring a hand up to his cheek and feel him lean into your touch. He turns his head and gently presses a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist before he turns his gaze to you. “Jack is my burden to carry,” you begin. “I told you because I needed you to know that the things he had done is the reason why I am the person I am today. I’m weak. I’m not brave. I’m–”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” Hugh interrupts. “The bravest, the kindest…” he sighs quietly. “I just can’t help but feel protective over you, baby.” 

“You will always be my safe place, Hugh,” you whisper, feeling several tears trickle down your cheek. “But I don’t need you to save me,” you repeat. “I just need you to be here with me.” 

“I am here,” he replies. “I’ll always be here, but I also need you to understand that I can’t help but feel this way too.” You nod slowly, biting your lower lip as Hugh continues to speak. “I don’t ever want to think about you being hurt or even about someone else hurting you… and I can’t–” Hugh sighs. “All I can think about is Jack putting his hands on you, thinking that he still has this much control over you…”

“But he does, Hugh,” you answer. “He still has this much control over me, but I am trying not to let him.”

“I know, baby. I know,” Hugh sighs as he holds you tighter to him. 

“This isn’t your fight, baby,” you whisper. “It’s mine, and I know that I’m in a much better place now. That’s because of you. You give me confidence and the strength that I never knew had always been there.” 

“Okay,” he sighs. “Just know that if he does come back around, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back,” Hugh admits. “Just– I love you,” he says softly. “And I don’t ever want to argue with you. I hate it, actually.” 

“I love you too,” you reply. “And I don’t think there’s anyone out there who likes to argue with their partner.” 

Hugh nods, leaning in to peck your lips lightly, bringing a hand to brush the fallen tears from your cheek. “Are we okay?” 

“Yes, Hugh,” you answer. “I’m sorry if I made it seem like we weren’t.” 

“Just don’t ever want to hurt you,” Hugh admits.

“You won’t,” you reply. “I trust you. I’m safe with you.”

Hugh nods and then wraps his arms fully around you, face burying into the crook of your neck. He feels a sense of relief wash over him and more at ease now that you’re back here with him. There’s still a lingering frustration that he feels in the pit of his stomach as his mind drifts to Jack, but all he cares about is having you here with him. 

In his arms. 

“Can we just spend the rest of the day in bed?” you whisper against him and he pulls back just enough to look down at you. 

“Whatever you want to do, baby, we’ll do. You hungry?” 

You nod and then pull him back towards the bed, climbing in and pulling him down with you. “Yeah, but can we just– Can you just hold me for a bit?” 

Hugh smiles and turns on his side, watching you do the same as your back faces him. He comes up to press himself against you from behind as his arm drapes over your waist, resting his cheek against the crook of your neck. Gently, he peppers kisses along your skin and hears you let out a relieved breath. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear. “So much that it scares me sometimes.” 

“Me too,” you admit, moving one hand to rest over his own hand that splays against your abdomen. “I’m scared that I’m going to wake up and this would have all been a dream.” 

Hugh shuts his eyes and pulls you closer to him – if he could spend the rest of his days like this, he would die a happy man. “I’d be disappointed if this is all a dream,” he chuckles. 

“Really?” you ask quietly, biting your lower lip as you close your own eyes, resting back against him. 

Hugh nods against you and kisses the back of your shoulder. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” he admits. “Meeting you all those months ago… I didn’t expect that crashing your gym session would lead to this, would lead me to you.” 

“About that…” you giggle, turning to lie on your back as you stare up at him. 

Hugh slowly opens his eyes, staring down at you with an arched brow. “What?” 

“Apparently, we were set up.” 

“What?” he chuckles, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Our trainer thought we’d hit it off. She just didn’t think we’d get together so fast.” 

Hugh smirks. “Well, I knew the minute I saw you that I wanted to get to know more about you.”

“I was on all fours, Hugh.”

“Exactly,” he winks, hand moving down to rest on your hip. “How could I resist? And then you were listening to The Greatest Showman? It was like a dream come true.” 

“Such a sweet talker,” you tease. 

“Only for you, baby.” Hugh grins, leaning down and pecking your lips as he props his head up on his hand. “Remind me to thank her,” he says. “Because of her, I’ve fallen in love again.”

“You really are the perfect man, aren’t you?” you smile. 

“Hopefully only the perfect man for you, baby,” Hugh whispers, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own.

---

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[gamblersdoll]

manipulation, work drama, coworker! sukuna

people hated and loathed working for him, he was a total brute and alot of times, an asshole.

he was known to piss employers or colleagues off, weather it be his smart ass mouth or it be he got into a fight with them. it worsens, as soon as he got into a management level.

he was also known to let people go for the smallest of things, (really, really small things). hes even let a man go for having bad breath, because what made that acceptable for work? especially for customers who came in— and he doesnt feel like dealing with that.

you somewhat feared him, this being your longest job and the only one thats kept you from being unemployed. in this economy? youd die. plain and simple— but yet, you have no qualms with the brute. they called him ‘the devil’s employee’ for anything he did, always running his mouth. yet, all you saw was a man who somehow got a job even with all the body modifications, yet back then youd be let go if your hair was ‘unkempt.’

who did he have to bargain to get this job?

your mind raced as your feet led to his office, he having the closed door policy— dont bother him unless he bother you, or emergency. even then, youd be fired if you came to him for an emergency.

three knocks on the door, and it swings open in a rage. “what?!” he looks for a bit, forgetting hes damn straight taller than everyone, and he finally sees you. “business?”

“uhh— you said you wanted me in yer office?” you remind, he nodding and beckoning his finger to his chairs. you only sneak inside, sitting immediately as he kicks the door shut. “whats this about?”

“you tell me.”

was he dumb, stupid, or slow? he cant be, he somehow got this job, so what the hell does he mean ‘you tell me?’

“uh, im not sure? you came to me with your demands.” you still have to remind this fine tatted fuck hes the one who called for you. it eats away at you, the nervous and tension bit at your skin for minutes.

“you look like a decently smart girl, yeah?” sukuna says, leaning back in his chair, almost manspreading and pressing his finger to his jaw to keep it up. “you know everyone of this company’s policies and procedures, huh?”

you nodded, giving a look as in ‘get to the fucking point.’

“so you should know there isnt a reason you should be intimate with coworkers.” he blurts, watching your face grow in confusion.

“you lost me.” you throw your hands up, sighing. “who am i supposed to be intimate with?” because how dare he— you hadnt been intimate with anyone in the workplace, not even outside (okay, not going too far.. just casually on dates!) so who were you dating in the workplace that he accused you of?”

“you know who im talking about.” he says monotone again, tapping his heavy foot on the floor.

“i truly dont.. sorry to tell.”

“saiko.” he says, as if you were supposed to know who that was. “says hes been seein’ you for the last couple of days.”

“saiko can kiss my ass.” you grit, he was known to find a pretty girl and just lie about statuses and relationships. “me and saiko dont even have each other’s phone numbers.” this had to be the most ridiculous thing you dealt with, thought sukuna was smart and maybe saiko would pick you next.

he raises an eyebrow , his vein slightly popping through his shirt. “watch yer mouth talkin’ to me, girl.” he reminds, could he write up for insubordination? no, hed just terminate you for it. “so if i were to investigate more, i wouldnt find anything you were hiding?”

“no, because again, i dont date inside my work.”

he nods, pressing his tongue against his cheek and he quickly stands. a couple small strides, and he folded his arms— standing over you. it looked lewd, like he was trying to shove his cock in your face. “you sure you wanna go with that, or am i going to find something else?”

he should be the one questioned about this, his literal groin was almost touching your face— dont even get yourself started on how big his thighs were. “no..?” you still say, because you were in the clear. he nods, backing away and he opens the door.

“beat it.” he beckons again, watching your hips as you walked out.

yet, there was a reason of his sudden questioning.

a sick, perverted, disgusting reason of why he asked, because hes had his sights on you for months, almost a year.

he could have just asked you on a date, a coffee run, or marybe just numbers. but your answers were known, he knew you didnt date inside the workplace. it angered him, he felt like he was indirectly rejected.

he knew he wasnt, but he also thinks you should know when its okay to let loose.

it was a simple crush he had— wouldnt even call it that to think of it, but it manifested itself into something else. he started having these lingering thoughts and looks, like he was longing. to hell with the ‘policies and practices’ bullshit, he had more power than anyone.

people who noticed that he was staring at you in meetings and gossiped were let go, with the reasons of insubordination, bad breath, improper behavior, many more.

he only grew more sick when he became a management level, having more authority over you— everyone he disliked. but that also ment he had authority over saiko, the man who wasnt as creepy as sukuna. he was known to find a nice looking woman and make up a scenario where you were dating.

and that angered the devils’ employee. because why the hell did he think he had a chance with you? how did he come up with this idea on his own? thats what sukuna wanted to know. and quite frankly, he didnt fuckin’ care.

saiko was then terminated and blacklisted, last you heard after your ‘meeting.’

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,844 Pairing: Negan x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers) Summary: In lieu of Negan's failing mental health, Michonne looks for options and Y/N steps up to do her share. A/N: This is part 1 of a miniseries (maybe 3?? parts) for Negan that I've been working on! I started it as a one shot, but... you know me lol so here we are! Part 2 will be released next week on Wicked Wednesday! Happy reading! “I’m afraid we’ve got a problem,” Michonne said seriously. You exchanged a glance with Daryl.

“What kind of problem? Like, Annoying Steve is being annoying or a new horror is coming to destroy everything we have and love?” you asked wryly.

Daryl let out an appreciative dry laugh but Michonne remained serious. “Somewhere in the middle, I think,” she said. “It’s about Negan.”

Daryl swore and paced a tight circle. “Course it is. Somehow, it’s still always ‘bout him, ain’t it?” he growled.

Michonne forged ahead. “Gabriel is—fed up with him. There’s no other way to say it. He’s not trying to do anymore counseling and he needs a break. I don’t blame him. He’s taken on everything with Negan since—since Rick—”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as grief roared upwards in all of you. “What exactly is the problem?”

“His mental state is really deteriorating,” Michonne explained. “Being in there by himself all the time, just the odd hour or two outside, no one talking to him—”

“Why should we give a shit?” Daryl asked in a low, dangerous voice. “Ain’t the whole damn point of him bein’ in there so he has to suffer for what he did for the rest of his life? His mental state… Fuck. They fed me one fuckin’ dog food sandwich a day after they shoved me into a fucking closet naked. They —”

You reached over and put your hand on Daryl’s arm before he got further charged up. He stopped abruptly and drew in a long breath.

“I know. I know what he did, but no,” Michonne said. “The point isn’t for him to just suffer. If we do that, we become no better than him.”

Daryl glanced at you and let out an exasperated exhale. “Hell, ya already know what I think about it,” Daryl said firmly. “He shouldn’t even be breathin’ still. ‘M the wrong damn person to ask ‘bout this.”

Michonne sighed and leaned forward on her hands. “I’m just trying to honor Carl and—”

“We know,” you interrupted her quickly. You paused thoughtfully. “I—I can take this on. I’ve dealt with him the least so far out of the three of us. Probably makes it my turn.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “What’re ya gonna do? Rub his back while he cries? Hold his fuckin’ hand? I mean, how do we help somebody like him.”

Michonne shrugged. “A little more conversation to start, I think. He said being alone and the boredom is eating him alive. Maybe we come up with some more things for him to do outside the cell.”

You nodded. “I’ll brainstorm,” you said.

Daryl looked concerned, his eyes flickering over you. “Yer gonna have to be careful. He’s a manipulative asshole. And I dun trust a damn thing ‘bout him. If he can get out, he will. Don’t matter what he’d have to do.”

“I’ll be careful. I’m not an amateur, Daryl,” you said, shooting him a smile.

He nodded, ducking his head. “I know. I just gotta say it.”

“Are you sure?” Michonne asked. “It doesn’t have to be one of us. I can talk to some other people.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll start today. I’ll take him his meals and check on him, make sure he gets some time outside the cell. I’ll take care of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Flat on his back, Negan heard the door open and shut but he barely moved. His eyes stayed closed and he heaved a heavy sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in some anticipation of annoyance. “Gabey-baby, I am not in the fucking mood for your guidance counselor horseshit today, so why don’t you just turn that tight little toosh around, waltz back out, and leave me the fuck alone…” he said.

“Wow. That was—gross…” you said.

Now, his eyes opened. This was something different. You were different. He swung his legs down and sat on the edge of his cot, his hazel eyes finding you and looking you over. “God Bless America, a change in the fucking monotony,” he said. “Is Gabe still mad at me?”

You approached his cell, tray in hand and nodded. “Yep. In fact, so pissed that he’s officially on vacation from you.”

“Gotta envy that,” Negan quipped. “How do I sign up for one of those?”

“A vacation from yourself?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that’s in the cards.”

“Damn. It was worth asking.” He seemed to be looking you over again and you rolled your eyes.

“My eyes are up here, Negan,” you joked.

His lips curled into a half-smile. “Sorry. But Gabe isn’t exactly my type and I don’t get much chance to look at anything so—”

“Just stop right there, okay?” you interrupted him. You slid his tray through the slot at the bottom of the door and straightened back up.

But Negan wasn’t interested in his breakfast. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” he asked.

“You know perfectly well what my name is, Negan,” you countered.

He cocked his head slightly. “You’re right about that,” he admitted. “So, what’s on the agenda?” he asked, finally moving to grab his tray. He returned to his cot and set it on the small side table.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Gabe was always counseling me. Trying to rehabilitate me. Were you a therapist or something in the old world?” He grabbed the small apple and shined it on his shirt before taking a bite.

“No. But we’re perfectly aware that your mental health has taken a nosedive recently,” you said.

Negan let out a low laugh. “And you give a shit?” he asked skeptically. “I nearly fucking destroyed all of you and you’re worried about my mental health?”

You sighed and nodded once, stiffly. “We’re not the same as you, Negan. We’re trying to do better. And Michonne wants to honor Carl’s vision.” You watched as Negan’s face fell. The look in his eyes grew distant and his shoulders slumped slightly.

“Yeah… He was a helluva kid,” Negan said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you replied, taking a seat in the stiff wooden chair set outside his cell. “I watched him grow up from a scared little kid and survive everything this world threw his way. You have no idea what kind of loss that was.”

Negan was looking at you thoughtfully and you were surprised when he didn’t reply, only nodded, and then returned to his apple.

“The agenda is for me to—” you hesitated for a moment. What the hell was the agenda? “For me to help you how I can. I know you’re alone a lot and you probably need some company, a change of scenery every now and then, mental stimulation…”

Negan laughed and smirked. “That’s not the only kind of stimulation I need,” he said.

You glared at him. “Jesus, Negan…” you murmured, rolling your eyes.

“It’s the truth,” he laughed.

“Yeah, well, I’m not helping you with that. I guess you’ll just have to try your hardest to think back to one of your past six wives,” you sassed.

The grin stayed on his face. “Five,” he corrected you. Then, the smile faded. “But, uh, only the first really counted.” Negan’s head dropped and you watched him curiously.

He was struggling. You’d never sensed so much truth or vulnerability in a single thing that had left his lips.

“I see,” you said.

For some reason, this made him laugh again. “You know, Gabe used to say that all the time. It’s some of that non-value, non-judgement counselor language.”

You stood up suddenly and sighed. “Finish your breakfast. I’m gonna go do a few things and then I’ll be back. We’re gonna get you out of that cell for a while today.” You fixed a stern and perceptive look on him. “If you think you can behave.”

Negan looked curious. “For you? I might.”

You cocked your head at him and looked unamused. “You will, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Negan laughed again and turned back to his food. “Got it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Why don’t I come with ya?” Daryl asked, watching as you slipped the pistol into your holster.

You looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “You think I can’t handle this?” you asked.

“Not that ya can’t handle it. It’s just—it’s Negan. We all know what he’s fuckin’ capable of,” Daryl said, walking behind you out the front door and across the steps.

“You’re conflating past Negan with Negan now. I just talked to him, and I’m telling you—it’s like he’s been robbed of all his menace and power. He’s been sitting in that cell a long time, Daryl. I don’t think he’s the same and I don’t think he’s going to—to suddenly hit me over the head with a rock or something,” you said.

“But outside the walls? Already? Why dun ya just—just start with somethin’ in here first and see how it goes? That way there are other people around and I can stop by when I can and check in.”

You read the intense concern on Daryl’s face and then nodded. “Alright. We’ll stay in the walls today. But I think part of the problem with him is that he hasn’t seen a single different thing outside in too long. He’s going a little stir crazy in there and I can’t entirely blame him.”

“Yeah, well, he fuckin’ deserves it,” Daryl growled.

“He does. But Michonne is right… we should be trying to be better. Otherwise, we should have just killed him.” You paused, trying to come up with something for him to do that would give him a little exercise and change of pace. “I’ll have him help me clear out that area for the new garden plots. There are some plants to harvest over there anyway before we clear it. It’ll teach him something too.`”

Daryl nodded. “ ‘Kay. I’ll stop by and check in,” he drawled. “Just be careful. Dun let yer guard down.”

“You know I never do.” You turned and headed back toward Negan’s cell.

Negan rose from his seat on his cot, the tray from breakfast sitting empty beside him on the small side table. He watched as you withdrew a ring of keys from your back pocket and fiddled with them a moment as you stood in front of the cell door, eyeing the lock. Was this a good idea?

Negan took a few cautious steps toward you, watching your face intensely. “Am I… getting out on good behavior, warden?” he quipped, flashing you a half-smile. It seemed to draw you back out from your reverie.

“Temporarily,” you replied, finally fitting the key into the lock and turning it. The metallic clunk was striking. “If you can handle it…” you added.

The pistol on your hip wasn’t lost on Negan. He nodded. “I think so,” he said. “What’re we doing? Hard labor?”

“Not so hard,” you said. “But I would appreciate your help with something.”

Negan froze just after stepping out of the cell and fixed a queer look on you. “Appreciate?” he repeated.

You nodded. “Mhm…”

His eyebrows lifted. “You better be careful with the way you’re talkin’ to me, Y/N. I might just fall in love with you,” he chuckled. “I haven’t felt appreciated in… oh, I don’t know—how long have I been in here?” he asked, brushing a hand back through his hair.

“Didn’t Gabriel speak nicely to you?” you asked, shutting the cell door behind him, giving him a questioning glance.

“Well, sure. Or maybe not nicely. He was at least neutral,” Negan said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I think I ruined that though.”

You shook your head and sighed. “Yeah, he’s not pleased with you, Negan,” you agreed. “Look, this is just a test run. We’re staying in Alexandria today, but eventually… I’d like to get you outside of the walls on occasion.” Negan looked shocked. “Obviously, that’s going to take trust,” you emphasized. “But I think it would do you good.” You hesitated, wondering if you should admit this to him, but you decided it would be good for him to hear it. “You’re not the same as you were when you were locked in here. And—I intend on finding out if you can really be rehabilitated. Not that I’m ever going to forget what you’ve done… but there’s got to be more than this,” you said, gesturing to the cell behind him, “in your future. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“You’ve just explained exactly what has me so depressed,” Negan admitted. “I’ve spent most of the last however many fucking years wishing Rick had just killed me.”

Those words hung in the air like a toxic cloud. You gulped and couldn’t help feeling an ache of compassion at his words. Compassion for Negan. What a peculiar thought… You tilted your head toward the door. “Come on. Follow me and stay close. And let me be perfectly clear; I will shoot you if you try to pull any bullshit,” you emphasized.

He nodded, his expression surprisingly serious. “Got it.”

You led him out into the summer sunshine and walked through Alexandria until you reached the overgrown section near the wall that you planned to tackle for the day. The two of you had gotten plenty of stares as you moved down the street, but you noticed that Negan had mostly kept his head down. His shoulders were somewhat slumped and he made no witty comments on the walk, though you caught him closing his eyes to enjoy the breeze or staring up at the blue expanse of sky overhead multiple times.

He stopped beside you, his hands in his pockets, as you stared at the tall grass and brambles ahead and sighed.

“What’re we doin’, boss?” he asked.

“We’re going to start clearing this area out so eventually we can put in some new garden plots. But there’s a little more to it. We used to have some medicinal plants in here before it got overgrown. I’m hoping to find them and save them for transplanting, so we can’t just start ripping everything out.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what’s medicinal and what’s not?” he asked.

“I’m gonna teach you,” you said confidently.

Negan laughed a little at the assertion. “Look, doll… I was a gym teacher in the old world. ‘Not Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,’” he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Wow. That was a deep bench reference,” you said.

He smirked at you. “I was pretty proud of it myself,” he said.

You couldn’t help a dry laugh and small shake of your head. “It’s not that hard. We’ll work together to start and I’ll show you how to identify them. The grasses can all be pulled, but we’ll identify the broadleaf plants and get them ready for transplanting if they’re something we can use.”

Negan looked skeptical but shrugged. “Well, you’re the boss. Not like I’ve got a full schedule,” he said.

“Exactly,” you agreed. There was a reason you weren’t just having him pull all the grass and doing the rest yourself. Negan was smart and not having any mental stimulation was probably contributing a lot to his mental health issues. If you gave him a task that was a little physical and a little mental, you were hoping it’d give him a sense of purpose and productivity.

You got started right away, mainly just pulling the grasses and clearing a large area that remained dotted with forbs. It was summer and the respiration of the plants you were sitting in made the air humid. It wasn’t long before you were wiping at sweat along your hairline and stopping to push wet strands back out of your face. For a while, you worked in silence beside Negan, only speaking to instruct him, but he finally tried to start some conversation on his own.

“So, what the hell did you do in the old world anyway? Were you some kind of plant guru?” he asked, pausing to pull off his gloves for a moment and get a drink from the canteen you’d provided for him.

You paused, standing up to look down at him where he knelt in the grass. He was sweaty too, like you were, and his dark blue shirt was clinging to his back in the heat. “I don’t think I owe you my backstory, Negan,” you said. Your tone wasn’t unkind, but it was a little stern.

“Aw, come on. This is part of that trust-building thing you mentioned earlier,” he said, taking another drink. “I’m just trying to figure you out a little bit,” he said.

You crossed your arms and surveyed him. “So, you can better manipulate me when it’s beneficial to you?” you asked.

“What? No,” he said with surprise, and you almost believed him. “I mean—I currently have no concrete plans to manipulate you…” he admitted, a small bit of jest in his voice. “I’m bored all the time in that fuckin’ cell. I could sure use the conversation. Isn’t that what this is about? My ‘mental health’,” he quoted, shooting an expectant look at you.

You sighed. “What do you wanna know?”

Negan licked his lips and then smiled, thinking about what he wanted to ask, but before he could say a word, bootsteps behind the two of you caused you both to look over to see Daryl standing there.

You went to greet him, pulling off your gloves.

“How’s it goin’?” he asked in an undertone, glancing past you to shoot a glare at Negan.

You shrugged. “Fine. It’s been completely fine so far.”

Daryl nodded, but still looked suspicious. “He ain’t tried anythin’?”

You shook your head, dusting the soil from your gloves. “Nope. We’re just working.”

Daryl nodded, still clearly apprehensive. “Well, s’almost noon. Get him back to his cell by 1 and I’ll bring his meal down,” he drawled.

“I can take care of that,” you offered.

“S’fine. I wanna have a word with him anyway.” He put his hand on your shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, giving you a small smile. “Yer doin’ enough for him. Be careful.”

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding. “See you later.”

When you turned around, you noticed Negan had been watching the interaction carefully. There was a thoughtful look on his face, but when you simply returned and got back to work, he joined you again in silence. You continued on for another hour or so, managing to clear quite a wide area by the time you needed to get Negan back to his cell for a late lunch. You walked beside him, both of you now dirty and plenty sweaty, and your hand strayed to the handle of your pistol again absently.

Negan noticed and broke the silence that had stretched for what felt like a long time. “You’re a fuckin’ great shot with that thing,” he said, nodding toward the gun.

“What?” you asked, turning to look at him, puzzled.

“I said, ‘you’re a great shot’,” he repeated. You still looked confused. “I noticed… during the war,” he said. “I mean—I noticed you but also your aim.” You stared at him, your brow furrowed. “You almost blew Simon’s fuckin’ head off,” he said with a laugh. “If he hadn’t flinched at the last second…” Negan let out a low whistle.

“How’d you know that was me?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I noticed you.”

You looked… unsettled? Uneasy? Negan couldn’t quite define it, but there was some sort of tension in the air as you walked him back the rest of the way and finally locked him inside his cell again.

He gripped onto the bars and watched you turn away before he managed to get your name out. You turned toward him again, the high arch of your brow inquiring. “Thanks,” he said. “For today. It was the best fuckin’ day I’ve had in a while,” he admitted.

You gave him a baffled look. “I made you work outside in the sun all morning,” you laughed.

“Yeah… but I wasn’t alone. And I’ve had waaaaay worse company. Just—even if you decide you can’t do more than today, I want you to know that it mattered to me. Thanks.”

That look was on your face again, some mix of surprise and bewilderment. Finally, you sighed. “Daryl’s gonna bring you lunch. I’ll see you later, okay, Negan?”

He nodded, still gripping onto the cold, iron bars of his cell, and watched you walk out.

A short time later, Negan had washed his hands and splashed cool water from his basin over his face, dabbing at it with his small scratchy towel, when he heard the door open again. He looked up to see Daryl coming in with a tray of food and a scowl. He set it down by the slot at the bottom of the cell door and pushed it roughly through with the toe of his boot, almost spilling the water cup. Daryl’s expression didn’t change. It was stony and guarded.

Negan eyed him and then wandered over to grab the tray. He did feel hungry for once, something that had been rare for quite some time. When he straightened up, Daryl’s blue eyes were narrow and stinging.

Negan grabbed the apple off his tray and took a big bite. It was sweet and crunchy, satisfying and refreshing after being in the sun all morning. “Something on your mind, Daryl?” Negan asked, a faint smile on his lips.

Daryl stepped closer, right up to the bars. “Yeah. One thing. If ya fuck up, if ya try to hurt Y/N, if ya pull anythin’ I dun like, I don’t give a shit what Michonne or anybody else is tryin’ to do—I don’t give a shit about your rehab, I’ll put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Got it?”

That smile was still on Negan’s face, annoying the shit out of Daryl.

“I mean it, Negan. Ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said, taking another bite.

“Good,” he growled, and the archer left.

[maeumine]

Pairing: bf!Nishimura Riki x fem!reader

Genre: angst&fluff!

Summary: your boyfriend riki comforts u during a bad day

Warnings: mental health issues

Hii so this is my first story it's something really simple, let me know if you like it <33 English is not my first language🙏🏻

It was one of those days, no you didn't have your period, and no nothing bad really happened to you.

You couldn't really say what was happening with you.You were just...empty or sad. You never knew how to describe this mood.

Usually your way to dealing with this kind of things was to stay in your room, with your phone or computer, scrolling thru social media and watching some old nostalgic shows like h2o or drawing while listening to lana del ray and basically ignoring everyone and anything until you eventually felt better.

As you woke up already taking your computer to do what was previously mentioned, the sound of your phone vibration echoed in your room. Your finger was about to press the decline button, but your eyes read the name of Riki.Your boyfriend.

"Goodmorning sleepyhead how are you?" his soft voice hit your ears like a melody, immediately giving you the comfort you were searching for. Just by hearing his voice, you felt like u just got free from a heavy weight. "Hey Riki goodmorning why are u calling me this early? Your voice is coming off as more cold than what you expected to sound - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound mean I'm just really tired today, "your voice softened "don't worry princess, is everything ok? Yesterday you asked me to come to your house and have a baking date, remember?" Fuck you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting such thing "yes I'm so sorry Riki but I don't feel really good today can we postpone?" Your voice pleading hoping he will understand "of course y/n it's alright,do you want me to still come over maybe we can cuddle and watch a movie instead" you bite your lips "no Riki I'm sorry I prefer stay alone today see you tomorrow" you hung the call before he could even answer you.

Your body fell on the mattress beneath you, curling on yourself. You felt so guilty you didn't want to sound cold or mean you were sorry, but usually you dealt with these episodes alone. You always did, plus you and Riki were a new couple it was barely 1 month since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and you were afraid to show this side to him.

The morning went by, and so did part of the afternoon. You passed the whole time by staying in bed sleeping and crying, thinking of random scenarios in your head as your eyes were about to close again. The sound of your doorbell echoed in the apartment as u reluctantly dragged yourself to the door and opened it, reveling your boyfriend figure looking at you worried. "How are you?? I called you for the whole day. " his tone firm, your eyes looking at the floor."I'm sorry I was sleeping. I told u I'm tired. " You tried to shrug it off, walking to the living room the boy behind you."You don't seem just tired," he said, emphasizing the last word, his body crouching in front of you who were sitting on the sofa. "i just want to know what happened. Did I do something? Or is it something I can help u with? " his eyes pleading you, it hurted u seeing him like this he didn't do anything he's the best thing that could happen to you "no I'm so sorry it's not you it's just- you begin to say feeling a knot in your throat-i don't even know sometimes i have this episodes where I feel empty and I don't really know what to do thats why i wanted to ignore you" tears streaming down your face as he bring you closer to him, as you looked at him your body immediately cling at him like a magnet, on of his hand went behind your head and the other one massaged your back you let everything out feeling the warmth of his body giving you the comfort you were craving since this morning.

You two stayed like this for a while. As you calmed down, he kissed your head and looked at you. "Do you want to watch your favorite movie and eat something?" He asked softly, your heart warming you nodded, stending up and choosing the movie you wanted while Riki went to the kitchen returning a few minutes later with 2 bowls of ramen you snuggled closer to him watching the movie.

The 2 now empty bowls were on the table in front of the sofa, his arm sneaking around your shoulder as you leaned your head in the crock of his neck, inhaling his perfume, outside was now dark the and in the apartment the only sourceof light was the weak light coming from the tv, everything seemed to have stop it was so peaceful, you felt a hand caressing your hair "do you feel better now?" His deep voice brought you back on earth. Your eyes looked at him in the dim light. God, he looked ethereal, you nodded, snuggling even closer to him, which made him laugh lightly. "Next time you feel like this, tell me please, you don't need to hide from me ok"he said seriously, "Promise." Your voice answered before closing your eyes and drifting to sleep with a smile on your face and his heartbeat as your lullaby,knowing how lucky you are to have Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend.

CUT!

If you came this far, Thank youuu I hoped you like it let me know if there are any grammatical errors and if you liked it see you in the next one<3

[erwinsvow]

I need a background on wifey and pope like how they met everyone's reaction to her and stuff 😭

I yearn for them

i am SOOOOO happy you asked about this because i honestly have a million ideas and i'd love to know what you think would be the best one to use whenever i finally start writing them. my favorite trope ever is sweetheart girlfriend with the boy no one expects her to be with so i went a little berserk thinking about them. i am yearning so much i'm so glad to yearn with you. same as last time, read more since this is looong

okay SO, at first i thought maybe they meet during a job?? like if anyone has ever seen the town, when they kidnap the one teller and then let her go and ben affleck's character falls for her? like if they're taking two get away cars and wifey would just be a patron at the bank (i picture her as a nurse!) and when the storm the place and have to pick a hostage, he picked her. sometimes when i think of these things i try to imagine it like a scene from a movie, so she would be staring up at him with like wet teary eyes while he holds a gun to her head. i imagine the others would be in the vault getting the money and pope would immediately be so disarmed and lower the gun away from her because she'd be saying "please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me" and he'd go "i'm not gonna hurt you." and maybe if someone in the bank got hurt wifey would plead with pope to let her go help him, saying how she's a nurse and he might bleed out. the others would just try to keep the hostage until they get out safely but i think pope would let her help the person and she would say thank you to the literal man holding her hostage because she's a sweetheart and he'd just stand there like ? he has a mask on but she would keep looking back up at him, even when the others pour back into the room and they all have weapons so it's not like she's only worried about him.

well anyways.. i think a few weeks later, they don't hear anything about anyone dying, so the guy must have lived. and you're a nurse, so pope does pope things and becomes a little obsessed. tracks down your hospital, finds your shift. goes in with a cut on his hand and lets people get taken back before him until you come out to get him. i think he'd try and fail to be subtle, while you're bandaging his hand he asks you something like "is that guy okay?" and you'd be confused but laugh, he's a little strange but cute and generally polite so far, besides the staring. you've dealt with way worse. "what guy?" "the guy from the bank." BUUUUT here's my thing. i don't think she'd get up and call security and be scared. i think she'd know exactly who this is. so you nod, and pope's hand would tighten around your wrist, and he tells you again that he's not gonna hurt you. he just wanted to make sure that guy was okay. and then maybe he'd ask if you're okay. and i think the conversation would go something like you telling pope that he saved that man's life, and pope would say that you saved his life, and you say that if he hadn't let you help him, he would be dead. so it was both of you. and i just think that it would be the first time pope would have heard that kind of sentiment.

so you tell him to come back if the wound gets red or swollen or painful. he nods and listens to your every word like he doesn't know how to take care of cuts. and then later that week, there's a black truck outside your apartment. maybe you work weird hours, live in a bad area.. he would think himself responsible for making sure you get from the hospital to your house safely. i mean can anyone on this blog say that if pope was checking in on you like this that you wouldn't fall for him? because that is exactly what sweetheart wifey reader does, she thinks it's sweet and she thinks he's nice and she's willing to overlook the whole armed robbery hostage thing. one day he's lurking outside and then your front door opens, and you run up to his window and tap on the glass carefully.

"are you hungry? i made dinner, if you want to come up."

okay so that is one theory. another one i like is that you're in some kind of a public place and there's something going on, like someone is pulling a job or there's a shooting and you just get covered and held down until it's over and when you look up it's pope who saved you. and not for any real reason that he knows what to do in this situation and you didn't, maybe he just happened to be standing next to you. so obviously wifey would be so thankful and enamoured, like i can't remember what it's called, like when you start liking someone because they saved you? like transference. so they would start seeing each other and wifey would have such a great view of him for saving her like she would have never realized that she should maybe be scared. and also pre-prison pope, i mean we don't actually know what he was like, but my best guess is a little less hardened, maybe a tiny bit softer? and i like this idea since she would have seen the good before the bad, kind of concedes on all the rest as she finds it out since she knows how good he is. i can also imagine a really intense moment would be when he comes home to her after some job and he's covered in bruises and has like five grand in a bag and she's just like andrew? and i think he would maybe open up but in his own way, like "my family and i do bad things. are you sure you still want me here?"

also MEETING THEM!!!!! pope gets shot on a job and it's one of those where they need help but not, like, tijuana help, and craig's genius idea is like kidnap a doctor leaving the hospital but pope just hands him his phone and says to call the first number on speed dial- ohh can you imagine when wifey shows up with her little supplies and trembling head to toe because her bf is hurt!!! and she's meeting his whole family but she can't worry about that until she stops the bleeding. she gives the vibe of like making pope take a couple of shots of tequila to help the pain and then taking one herself so her hands stop shaking. and then when he's patched up they'd hug and the others would stare at each other like o_o i'm very silly unfortunately i thrive on imagining things in my head until a lovely person on this blog asks me to elaborate and then i go crazy. but wait! there's more!

baz would be concerned about how much you know. do you know about previous jobs? do you know what they do to launder the money? does he give you any money? and i think pope would be so mad at this line of questioning, like you're secretly an informant or something. i think deran would just be confused, but starts piecing things together, like how pope's been more stable, maybe works at a car place in his free time and doesn't freak out (they mentioned this in season four i think). that would be because he wants wifey to be able to say that her bf has a steady job. idk i think it's cute. craig would probably try to hit on her and after realizing that wifey is uninterested, he would think that you two must be really serious. like i appreciated how perceptive craig is in s4 of pope, i think that might hold true back then too. he'd be confused why someone like wifey is dating him but then again they all are. (because its my favorite trope! i see that anyone who is still reading this far down can sense that.)

i talked about wifey and smurf. obviously smurf would host a family dinner and tell pope that he has to invite his new friend. doesn't say girlfriend, which irritates pope, but he complies. wifey shows up in a cute sundress, with dessert, and a bottle of wine because she doesn't want to be seen as rude for coming empty-handed. sits next to pope, holds his hand under the table. he squeezes your hand while you get questioned but you don't mind, you'd do it for him. i think smurf just assumes it's not gonna last because you seem shy and easily scared, but she doesn't actually know what you and pope have, so. again, i'll leave whatever issues wifey reader has up to the reader to decide. but whatever they may be, she finds it very healing and safe to be with pope, and so in whatever way she is fixing him, he is fixing her too. that's what i think the others don't get.

okay, if you read this far, wow, thank you and i love you. i hope this made sense. if you were imagining something else please let me know i would love to (clearly) talk about it <3

[pers1st]

you open yours

pt 2 of when every door closes

pairing: leah williamson x reader

notes: mentions of ed, j*rge vilda, lots of angst

Settling into Arsenal again was difficult, but it couldn’t have been more difficult than leaving, once more, for international break. The World Cup qualifiers were coming up quickly, and despite the fact that it felt as though you still hadn’t dealt with your early out in the Euros, there was no time to dwell on the past as Jorge Vilda made sure every player knew the gravity of the next few matches. With more and more players from Barcelona filling into the squad, you were subconsciously worried for your position. It was no secret that Barça was dominating European football, but somehow, for the qualifiers, you kept your head and spent every last second of every match on the pitch, even when the physios concluded you were very close to tearing your hamstring, much to the dismay of your teammates. It wasn’t that they didn’t want you to play- you had quickly proven to be a valuable part of the team, not quite the brick wall Mapi was, but an agile defender that solidified every win with perfectly-timed tackles and a good oversight of the play.

It was rather the fact that you so desperately needed a break, and everyone saw it but you. Every step you took on the pitch hurt, and if it wasn’t for María telling you to cut back on the painkillers, you possibly wouldn’t have even noticed if you’d torn your hamstring fully. You had, in addition, settled back into your club well enough to rely on nutritional energy yet again, with the help of your girlfriend, your teammates and the club’s psychologist, but all of that went to waste the second you saw Jorge Vilda before boarding the bus towards the team’s camp.

You weren’t done yet- Leah had told you as much after the Euros. You weren’t where you wanted to be, not with the Spanish national team, at least. A World Cup was the least you could achieve to compensate for everything you were going through, but during the camp, you and many other girls realized that there was a lot more you should, or well, a lot more you had to reach for.

So, to you, it wasn’t surprising when you came home with an open letter to the RFEF and a vision of how maybe, one day, playing for your country wouldn’t be your nightmare.

“Are you sure, love? I mean, aren't there like, really bad consequences?”, Leah asked confusedly, her hands around yours as you sat on the couch, you still wearing the same sweats you had worn on the plane.

You nodded, wandering back to the monologue Mapi had held about all of the possible outcomes of what you were about to do. Her voice had been hushed as she explained the ban you could face, which would affect all of your teammates, except Ona and Lucía, more than you. Not playing in the Spanish league wouldn’t hurt you as much, so long as Arsenal stayed your home, which you intended it to. Not playing for the Spanish national team- well, you trusted Alexia when she said that no one would face a ban, and you didn’t particularly want to think about what would happen if she was wrong. You were possibly throwing your national career away, and your stomach turned at the thought. But either way, you knew that playing in the environment that had been created recently, you would rot away anyways.

“I don’t know. Maybe. But what can be worse than this?”, you chuckled bitterly. Knowing well how dangerous it had been, truthfully, to play all those minutes, you knew that you would stay on the bench for a significant amount of time to recover, but you also knew that no matter what you, or your hamstring did, you would be called up for the next camp.

You couldn’t risk your career, not while you were this young. And if everything went according to Irene’s, Mapi’s and Alexia’s plan, you wouldn’t have to.

“If you’re sure, I am, too. And no matter what happens, I will support you. You know that, right?”, Leah asked, almost desperate to reassure you, but all you could do was nod absent-mindedly.

You were different, this time. Different from how you’d been after the Euros, but your girlfriend didn’t dare to ask what had happened for you to be this- reserved, almost. As if you still didn’t dare to speak, guarding your tongue harshly as if your manager was just around the corner, ready to jump at you for whatever it was you couldn’t say.

The night you spent tossing and turning didn't guarantee much sleep, but you were still surprised that your absence had woken Leah up, as she slung her arms around your shoulders slowly in her dark flat, the only light illuminating the kitchen from the little nightlight near the coffee pot. 

“Come back to bed”, your girlfriend mumbled, voice still thick with sleep, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Your stomach warmed slightly at the gesture, but you were too encapsulated in your phone to really react to her presence, not letting her pull you back into false comfort. Nothing of what was about to happen, in merely four hours, would be comfortable. 

“Can’t sleep”, you gave back, your fingers tapping away on your screen as you replied to Ona’s message, who seemed to sleep as little as you did.

You knew that Leah didn’t know Spanish, and you knew that she was still staring at your screen, noticing how your phone lit up once more with a text that even you could barely detangle. Taking a deep breath, you clicked the call button right next to Ona’s contact, barely noticing how Leah detached herself from you to start a pot of coffee.

Ona’s words were messy, and you were barely able to understand anything besides the gut-wrenching fear that filled your apartment, all of a sudden. Her Catalonian accent was thick, and you knew that her emotion was taking over her, more so than it was affecting you. You had, sort of, gone numb.

“Ona, va a estar bien. No te preocupes”, you tried to calm your friend, who you could tell was biting back tears.

“Ale said it’ll be okay. Do you trust her?”, you asked as you didn’t receive an answer.

“Sí”, Ona mumbled, to which you nodded, forgetting the fact that she couldn’t see you.

“Then it’ll be okay. What are they going to do? Ban sixteen of their best players?”

“No sé. Maybe they are going to ban just me”, she huffed.

“No, Ona. That won’t happen”, you calmed her yet again, and stupidly enough, you actually believed yourself. 

The open letter went online while you were at training, which you were quite grateful for. None of your teammates had a clue, except for Leah, of what was about to happen, although they could all tell something needed to happen.

In the short twelve days the team hadn’t seen each other, you had lost a noticeable amount of weight, and hadn’t touched your breakfast, blaming your lack of appetite on the lack of sleep you had gotten. You stuck to Leah’s side like glue, more so than you usually did. And by the time the team was ready to step onto the field for the first training session of the year, you mumbled an excuse to leave the changing room into the wrong direction, and headed to the physio room without looking back.

After sending Jonas a text in the early morning, somewhere between your phone call with Ona and Leah dragging you back into bed, the physios were very well aware of your hamstring issue, and spent a lot of time analyzing your muscles and how bad exactly your injury was. It seemed as though it was quite bad, as most of the treatment was silent, and none of the physios reacted to how you flinched every time any of them even reached out to touch you, but you hoped they wrote it off as a mere reaction of you being in pain. You didn’t know if they could handle the truth. Didn’t know if you could handle the truth. 

Still, the events of the day couldn’t take your mind off the fact that your phone was likely exploding with notifications as the public and the RFEF reacted to your protest. Sixteen players were withdrawing. Sixteen. You didn’t believe Alexia, although she had promised there would be no serious, no negative

consequences.

And you were right not to do so.

Leah picked you up from the medical room, in which you remained long after the treatment, scrolling through twitter and multiple Spanish news outlets in hopes to absorb every single comment, every single word in reaction to your letter. 

“Hey, you”, she smiled softly as she found you lying on the bench, phone in your hands as it always seemed to be, allowing for it to drop onto your chest as you smiled back at her.

“Hey”, you mumbled back.

“How bad is it?”, she asked, and you didn’t know whether it was her calf or everything else she was responding to.

“Grade two tear. Eight weeks, at least. They don’t want to risk anything.”

The fact that your hamstring actually was a grade two tear should’ve surprised you more than it had, but at this point, you didn’t put it past the Spanish medical team to actually hide the information of your injury from you. You didn’t put it past Jorge to let you play on an injury that potentially worsened with every step you took.

“I’m sorry, love”, Leah sighed, gently moving closer to you.

“It’s okay. Home?”, you asked, hesitant to accept any kind of gentleness from your girlfriend. At this point, you weren’t sure whether you deserved it or not. That’s how far Jorge had gotten into your head.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go”, Leah smiled as she stuck out her hand for you to take, and you reluctantly accepted it, the warmth being unfamiliar to you.

It took a few days for the RFEF to formally respond to your protest, and in the meantime, you drove your girlfriend insane. She had no way of reaching you, although she tried her hardest. Holding you as she slept, only for you to slip out of her arms once you knew she was lulled in sleep. Getting up in the morning without you just to find you in the kitchen, drinking coffee and being glued to your phone as you over analyzed every detail that was revealed to the public. By the time Arsenal’s first match after the

international break came around, she was truly at her wit’s end.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. She won’t talk to me, won’t tell me what’s going on, it’s just- I really don’t know”, she tried explaining to Kim, who had, in the past few days, begun catching a glimpse of just how bad of a situation you were in. It was clear as day to the whole team that you were struggling again, but the others quickly grew used to your reserved nature, though it was so unlike you.

“What can we do to help?”, Wally asked, gently crouching down in front of your girlfriend and rubbing a circle over her knee comfortingly, her face as somber as Kim’s.

“I don’t know. I tried giving her space, but I’m not really sure it’s helping. It’s like she’s just drifting away”, Leah cried, gently wiping a tear from her cheek. She needed to be strong, now. For you. Crying would be no use.

“She’ll come back to you. Wait for the RFEF’s response, and see how she is afterwards. Maybe she just needs to reach a breaking point”, Kim tried to reassure her vice-captain, but the only reason Leah nodded was because she didn’t have a better idea, although she didn’t like the idea of waiting for you to crumble completely and being there to pick up the broken pieces. It proved, though, that this was exactly what you needed.

The official response of the RFEF came while you were sitting in the cafeteria, slowly picking apart the food Leah had gotten for you as an ice-wrap around your thigh forbade you from walking too much. Your phone lit up with a message from Alexia, and at once, you dropped your fork, instead focusing on the little device in front of you.

¿Has visto?

No, you hadn’t seen. Not yet, anyways, but at the notification, you reached for your phone, quickly opening the internet to search for an article reporting on the matter. It didn’t take long to find, and your stomach turned at the sight your eyes met.

El futbolista Y/N Y/L/N le prohíbe jugar al fútbol por España.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read the words over and over again, your vision blurring until the letters tumbled in front of your eyes, spinning in circles as you drowned out the world around you. You weren’t aware of how Leah, Kim and Wally were glancing up at you, didn’t register how Leah’s hand

caressed your knee as she noticed your breath quickening, didn’t hear the words of your teammates surrounding you, asking what was going on, as you kept skimming the article, desperate to know more.

You were the only player out of the sixteen to be banned. It was because you had just begun playing, had been cared for during your injury and were disrespecting your country for diminishing their efforts. If you’d had any air to, you would’ve laughed. But you didn’t have any. Leah’s eyebrows furrowed as she caught a glimpse of your screen, moments before you rose from your seat, clenching your teeth in pain as you got up and left the cafeteria, leaving behind a group of confused women, none of whom dared to find you, right now. None except for Leah. She was on her feet within seconds, calling after you to slow down as she could barely keep up with your strides. You didn’t care about the fact that you bumped into Jonas, almost making him tumble over as you were focused on your phone, didn’t hear how he called after you, didn’t hear how he called after Leah. You simply kept walking and walking until you found the media room, which you knew would be empty right now, and slipped through the door, letting yourself slide down the wall.

“Love? Hey, talk to me! What’s going on?”, your girlfriend’s voice rang through from what felt like a thousand miles away. You felt as though you were under water, waves washing over you and trapping you in your head. You couldn’t answer, couldn’t force any words out of your mouth as you, instead, choked on a sob.

Within seconds, you felt arms around you, pulling you into your girlfriend’s chest as you sobbed, struggling to breathe.

“I’m out. Leah, they banned me”, you cried out, gripping fists of her shirt as you desperately tried to fight the way your head seemed to spin. 

Leah’s soothing words fell on deaf ears as the noise around you was quickly becoming far too much, and you fell into your own little word, sobbing into her shoulder as she held you tightly. It felt like hours until you calmed down, but slowly, your breaths began to even and as you drew away from your girlfriend, your lips twitched upwards at the realization that she was still there.

“Hey, baby. You’re back with me?”

You nodded at that, slowly letting go of her shirt as you leaned your head back against the wall. It was pounding, as though knives were flying through your scalp, but you didn’t have the energy to complain.

“This isn’t forever, love. We’re gonna keep pressuring them, Alexia is gonna keep pressuring them, and one day they’ll fire Vilda and you’ll be back. Okay? I promise, it’s going to be okay”, she spoke, hands landing on your cheeks as she tugged your face towards hers. 

“And no matter what happens, I’ll be with you, for every step of the way. I won’t leave you, okay?”

“I can’t do this on my own”, you mumbled, the weight of the situation hitting you, though less quickly, more deeply now that you knew you’d need to face it.

“You don’t have to. I’m behind you, and so is everyone else. You don’t have to do anything on your own, my love”, Leah promised, bringing your head into the crook of her neck once again as she closed her arms around your fragile frame.

Leah’s words quickly came true, as you realized that each and every one of your teammates, whether it was from Arsenal or Spain, voiced their support for you. Whether it was Jonas in a press conference, Alexia via an Instagram post or Ona via countless text messages and insisting on coming to London to see you. Slowly but surely, you recovered from your injury and found your footing again, suddenly enjoying the time you got to spend with your or Leah’s family whenever she was gone for international duty. The World Cup was a totally different story, as you flew to Australia with Leah to watch every one of the Lionesses matches, but none of your own nation. You skipped the final as well, not able to let yourself daydream about being on the pitch again. Though you were happy for Ona, Alexia and your other friends, you couldn’t help the anxiety over the fact that Spain was just as good of a team without you, Mapi, Pina and Patri.

And although you were still anxious, you reluctantly accepted when the RFEF lifted their ban after Jorge’s sacking, proposing for you to wear your nation’s colors another time. 

[hotdilfs11]

⊹ ˚.⊹ ˚.intoxicated hearts

♡pairings: Dean Winchester x fem reader

♡ summary: You and the Winchester boys are on a hunt for this mysterious creature no one knows about. This monster ends up giving Dean and I a attraction/love poison. You guys cant resist each other after infected.

♡ warnings: cursing, a little spicy

♡ word count: 1318

⊱ ──────ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ────── ⊰

During the weekend of Valentine's Day, there's a small town in Oklahoma that is suffering from a love poison. Two people get poisoned, and they either die from resisting attraction to each other or they act on how they feel and end up killing each other out of jealousy. This poison makes you have little to no self-control over your attraction. Sam, Dean, and I are investigating some of the victims but came up with nothing. After interviewing our last victims, we walked back to the car, unclear of what we were dealing with. I swung the door open of Dean's beautiful Impala and hopped in the backseat. “I honestly don’t know what the hell this is, guys,” I sigh with frustration.

Sam turned around to look at me. “Maybe we should keep looking,” he shrugged his shoulders. 

“Yeah…I mean, I called Bobby; he said he dealt with this a long time ago, but he forgot what it was and how to kill it. He said if we run into it, just try silver bullets or wipe its head off clean.” They both looked at each other and nodded their heads as Dean's car roared to life.

We found an old, janky motel on the outskirts of the town we are investigating. The room was semi big with a vintage brown couch, a table, two queen beds, and a TV. Everything looked so grey and sad. Nothing brings the room to life but the lingering smell of cigarettes that stung my nose. We all dropped our bags on the floor. “Home sweet home,” Dean jokes. I gave him a fake chuckle.

We start our research, and there's nothing that fits the description of this monster. All of our heads are deep in a book; however, everything around me started spinning. I couldn’t focus anymore, and all of these words started to become too much. I felt dizzy and lightheaded the harder I tried to concentrate. “I can’t do this anymore,” I groaned. I got up and put on my faded leather jacket; the familiar scent of leather hung around my nose. 

“I need a drink; you guys want to—” 

“Yes, please,” Dean said quickly, practically begging me to take him with me.

The chimes of Dean's keys and the rustle of his coat echoed through the room as he approached the door.

“Are you coming, Sammy?” he says, already out of the door.

Sam furrowed his brows. “no… I'm going to keep doing some research to see what I can find.” 

Dean shrugged his shoulders as we left the motel. 

Dean and I found this bar that was about twenty-five minutes away from the motel. The mood was dark and warm. The bar counter was crafted with polished wood that had high bar stools sitting underneath the counter waiting for them to be used. Dean and I walked towards the barstools as the bartender approached us, wiping her hands on this raggedy white cloth.

“What can I get you guys?”

Dean ordered a beer, and I ordered a bourbon neat; however, the bartender interjects and offers us the special. “It’s a really refreshing drink, and you can barely taste the alcohol,” she said with a slight smile.

Dean glanced at me, who nodded in agreement. “Sure, we'll take it.”

 We sat in the bar for a while, taking a sip of our bittersweet drink. It tasted weird at first, but I got used to the fiery yet sweet liquid that ran down my throat. 

After finishing our drinks, Dean and I got back in the Impala and went back to the motel. We sped down the dark highway with the sharp, commanding snarl that sent vibrations through the whole car. I started to fidget in my seat. It’s so hot for some reason I thought to myself, checking the vents for hot air; however, I felt nothing but the AC blasting on my hand. Anxiously I whisper, “Dean…” My skin prickled with warmth. “I feel so… hot all of a sudden.” I looked at Dean with worry on my face. Dean looks at me. “Yeah…I do too; we're almost at the hotel.” He says in a husky voice. I felt a sense of attraction to him. His voice sounded so deep and seductive that I couldn’t control the arousal that flooded my body. His smell and his broad features clouded my mind for the car ride. I got hotter and uncomfortable every second I was in the car with him. My mind was lustful.

When we got back to the motel, I grabbed my PJs and quickly got in the shower. I thought a cold shower would calm my senses down, but it just made me feel so much worse. I felt like I was set on fire with need the longer I thought about Dean. I hopped out of the shower and put on a pair of shorts and one of Dean's band tees. Taking a deep breath, I slowly open the door to discover Dean shirtless on the couch watching a movie on Sam's computer. My eyes danced around his body, feeling a fiery sensation leak all over my body. My knees grew weaker the longer I looked at his perfectly sculpted body.

Dean's eyes were heavily fixated on my body, noticing his shirt that I'm wearing. I sank on the couch beside him. “I think something's wrong,” I frowned. 

“Yeah, it’s hot as hell in here.”

“No…” I softly said as I took out my phone and dialed Sam's number. Sam answered.“Hey, where are you? Did you find something yet? 

“Yeah…I went to go interview one of the victims and found out that all of the victims went to this bar and ordered the same drink special.”

I looked at Dean, concerned and confused. “Which bar did they go to?”

“Uhhh…it’s twenty-five minutes from the motel, actually.”  -

My heart stopped. “Damn it Sam, we drank the special today.”

“Shit, okay, this monster is like Cupid on crack, meaning that he’s easy to kill.” Sam chuckled, “Just hold on, you two, and don’t…you know.”

“Yeah, we won’t.” 

I decided to watch the movie with Dean on the couch, trying to take my mind off of this filthy attraction towards him. I felt like I had no self-control, and neither did Dean. His presence pulled me closer and closer to him, feeling his rough fingertips brush against my thigh, trailing down to my knee. My pulse quickened, and my body shifted. I felt like he was touching every nerve in my body. I whimpered softly as his hand grew closer to my inner thigh. I need to snap out of it. I thought to myself.

“Fuck,” I groaned, pushing his hand away. “N…no.” I resisted. 

I got up in a swift motion and traveled to the far end of the motel room; however, I already felt his presence come up behind me. I turned around to look at him, but he was already slamming me against the wall. He placed his hands on my hips, trailing up my shirt, lifting it up halfway, feeling his warm yet rough hands tracing along my waist. Every touch feels like I was on fire. “Dean, we ca…can’t.” My voice cracked; I couldn't even spit out a full sentence. 

He groaned, “Seeing you in my shirt does something to me, Y/N.” He tightened his grip on my hips; his soft lips desperately collided with mine as my fingers ran through his dark brown hair. Whimpers came out of our mouths when I tried to gasp for air, but he still leaned in, not wanting me to escape. Wet, sloppy kisses started to tickle down my neck. I yanked his hair. “God, I need you so bad,” he moaned. Without hesitation Dean lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carried me to the bed.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ────── ⊰

CHECK OUT MY LIBRARY!!!!!!

[mrsriddlenott]

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[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Ex-Sneaky Link!JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

After months of hooking up with JJ in secret, you both began developing deep feelings for each other, but when his friends, Kie especially, learn of your relationship and plot on it's downfall JJ leaves you reeling and confused as he enters a relationship with his best friend leaving you to wonder what you did to push him away so quickly. Unbeknownst to you however. the blonde was struggling more than he let on, wanting nothing more than to go his own path but feeling trapped with those who used to make him feel free. The only person he can think of now that makes him feel as open as he once did is.... you.

Warnings: Emotional Cheating, Flirty Rafe, Fighting, Alcohol Consumption(JJ gets drunk), Fighting and Lying.

~~~~

The second you exited the office JJ was hot on your heels, catching up to you before you could even reach your car. “Rafe is one of Barnes’ clients? Seriously?”

“Well technically not yet but he wants to be.” You answer, avoiding his eyes with the excuse of finding the right button to unlock your door. Before you can however JJ snatches the keys from you, raising his eyebrows challengingly and making you finally turn to look at him.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to show up for the meeting Jay I’m sorry,” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, “He’s been canceling the meeting for months now and I genuinely thought he would again, and again until Mr.Barnes finally said no. I wouldn’t have suggested the job had I thought he would actually be coming in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it was even a possibility?” He snaps, staring at you as you began to shrink before him.

“I don’t know Jay, I wanted you to work with me so I didn’t tell you because I’m a selfish idiot. Mr.Barnes didn’t even want to meet with him after everything and I genuinely thought it would never happen. I’m sorry.” You sigh, staring up at JJ, you had never seen him as angry as he was right now and as your eyes glossed over JJ seemed to notice. His walls breaking, staring down at your slightly scared eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a dick.” He sighs, handing you your keys slowly before he continues, “I just really hate Rafe, he’s one of the worst people I have ever met and I guess I just got jealous.”

Your eyes meet his and JJ swears he can see something in them, something telling him you’re scared. Like you’re hiding something. He needs to remind himself he has no right to pry but something nags at him as he watches you avert your eyes away from him once again. He grabs your shoulder gently getting your eyes back on him before he starts speaking slowly.

“I’m sorry, really. You don’t owe me anything.” Guilt rushes through you at his words and you desperately try to keep eye contact with him while he speaks but ultimately you fail.

“I should probably get home Jay. It’s not right that you’re getting jealous about me of all people when you have Kie. Maybe we should start keeping our distance from each other.” You state simply trying to maintain a neutral voice as JJ’s eyes furrow in confusion.

“What? What the hell happened to “I want you to stay”? I thought you wanted me in your life now y/n?” JJ snaps, stepping closer to you even though you don’t say anything, you cant.

You stand still facing away from him, listening to the pleading tone in his voice. JJ watches you, scoffing when you walk forward again getting in your car and driving off. Leaving him confused and upset where he stands in the parking lot.

Luckily JJ made it easy to ignore your feelings for him. He didn’t text you as you made it home and even though you kept checking his contact while getting ready for the evening you knew it was for the best. Part of you even wanted to be woken up with a call from him, asking to be let in, but it never came. So you dealt with the pain you caused yourself alone.

JJ wanted to call you that night, wanted to beg you to rethink but he couldn’t because he knew you were right. He couldn’t bring himself to choose. He couldn’t bring himself to lose you or his friends. And if he couldn’t pick he couldn’t expect you to stay around and just wait. But the thought of you and Rafe had him tossing and turning in Kie’s bed all night, and when he walked into work that next morning a feeling of total dread was settled in his chest. He knew what he wanted, he just had to be brave enough to take it.

And it turns out he just wasn’t.

You ignored him expertly throughout the morning hours, telling yourself your feelings for him were selfish and heartless of you to pursue. Egging yourself on to push everything down further and further by remding yourself of Kie and how you would feel if you were in her place instead. But it didn’t make it easy. It never would.

Despite you wanting your distance JJ found excuses to be near you all morning, coming to clean the floor he already cleaned yesterday just to try and force eye contact to no avail. JJ knew he was acting desperate but he just couldn’t imagine himself ever being able to stay away from you. He knew he had no right to he so angry but when the moment he had been dreading finally came and Rafe’s giant shiny new truck pulled up to the office JJ was already fuming at the sight.

All he could do was watch with barely hidden rage when Rafe sauntered his way through the office doors, making his way to your desk with a smile JJ knew too well. He was early and JJ knew that had to be intentional. He was suddenly early after canceling for months, something about it just didn’t sit right with him.

“Hey y/n, I almost forgot you worked here for a bit,” Rafe remarked with a smirk, leaning against your desk with a nonchalant air about him, “I’m early I know but I was hoping Mr.Barnes could squeeze me in, I had something come up for later”

“Mr.Cameron, I can ask in a few minutes but he’s on a private phone call at the moment.” You try to keep your annoyance out of your tone, expertly avoiding his eyes too as you needlessly stare at you work tablet.

“You’re so professional Y/N, might have to try and steal you from Barnes to come work for me.” JJ scoffs, eavesdropping on your conversation as his eyes burn holes in both you and Rafe.

“I’m not quite sure what I’d do at your club Rafe, I’d much rather stay here where I’m comfortable. But thank you.” Rafe laughed softly, watching you with his deep eyes you had grown to hate.

“I know you can be fun y/n, you may be all professional now but don’t think I forgot our party days.” JJ almost snaps as he listens to the sultry tone Rafe uses with you, the way it comes to him so easily like he’s used it with you before.

“Yeah well not everyone is proud of the worst days of their life Ray.” The name slips from your lips without thinking, and you curse yourself, avoiding Rafe’s eyes again and trying to ignore the burning gaze of JJ.

Are you fucking kidding me? JJ thinks, his teeth gritting together trying to control himself.

“I forgot how much I like when you call me that.” Rafe’s voice takes on a deeper tone you knew very well, forcing your eyes up to his just as it always used to.

JJ watches how you look at him, like you were in his trance, like you were a deer caught in headlights. He could feel the anger bubbling over in his chest, he knew he couldn’t, shouldn’t, feel this way. But he couldn’t stop it. He hated seeing him anywhere near ypu.

“Weren’t you supposed to have your business partner with you?” You ask, your voice shaking slightly as your eyes meet JJ’s dark gaze from the corner where they lock onto you immediately. Rafe’s eyes shoot to JJ for a split second, a dark smile painting across his face when his eyes meet yours again. He was having fun.

“Once I remembered you worked here I came right over, Top’s busy today so it’s just us.” You hear the teasing hint to Rafe’s voice, ignoring it the best you can while at the same time desperately trying to ignore JJ’s intense, blue gaze.

“Actually it will just be you and Mr.Barnes, I won’t be needed for the meeting,” Letting your voice take on a sweet, customer service esc voice to let him know you wanted to keep it professional you stand and make your way to knock on your boss’ door.

“Mr.Cameron’s here early Sir, he’s ready for your meeting together if you are.” Mr.Barnes takes note of the annoyance in your tone eyeing the look on your face with a raised eyebrow. You were in fact meant to be a part of the meeting, taking note of the arrangements needed and readying his schedule for future meetings but Mr.Barnes was quite perspective and took your hint quickly.

“Let him in, I’ll update you after.” You flash him a thank you smile as you return to your desk, waving Rafe into your boss’ office quickly before he can speak to you again and shutting the door behind him.

The second you could stop to take a quick breath JJ’s shadow blanketed you entirely. Forcing eye contact with you, raising his eyebrows questioningly while you avoid him expertly. You take your sest at your desk, acting as though JJ wasn’t following quickly behind you, starting to speak angerly.

“What was that?” He asks, his tone clearly trying to hide his annoyance. You roll your eyes, keeping quiet and focused on your tablet in front of you despite his insistent eyes.

“Come on y/n that was definitely something.” You could hear his exasperation, leant down onto your desk, his biceps flexing in anger. Your eyes meet his quickly before dropping back down to your screen, trying to ignore the heat running through your body at his anger.

“You shouldn’t even be asking me that,” You sigh giving him a glance before continuing, “What would Kie ask you if she saw how you talk to me huh?”

“Okay so there is something going on?”

“Why would you say that?” You turn in your chair, facing him fully and staring at him exasperated.

“Because you just compared it to us and you can’t deny there is definitely something going in between us still.” JJ moves forward quickly, grabbing the arms of your chair, staring into your eyes intensely and making you swallow out of fear of telling the truth. Moving forward quickly you grab random papers meant to be mailed out today, shoving past JJ’s muscular frame quickly practically running away from him to the mailbox just outside.

Thankfully he doesn’t follow, watching you with a pinched brow, anger flowing through him as he feels his face heat up. JJ lets the day continue as normal, not missing how you run off to the bathroom as soon as Rafe starts to exit Barnes’ office with a smile on his face.

As Rafe’s leaving he takes the chance to approach JJ for the first time in a year. His tongue poking into his cheek while he suppresses a smile making JJ’s teeth grit in anger.

“Hey Maybank, didn’t think I’d see you here,” Rafe laughs slightly between his words, looking off as if checking for you, “Y’know you take your girls for granted, it’s like they’re always itchin’ for someone else’s attention.” Rafe laughs as JJ refrains from jumping at him, watching him leave with a scowl on his face.

~~~~

You make it home quickly, avoiding JJ like the plague for the rest of the work day. Even going as far as leaving from a different door to avoid his accusatory tone and glances.

Your chest tightens every time you think of JJ for the rest of the evening. Taking your time in the shower to enjoy the warmth of the water and the fragrance wafting around you. You almost feel empty as you accept the cold of the bathroom once you step out, dressing in your night clothes as fast as you can before being shocked out of your feelings by a crash in your room outside the door to your bathroom.

The sound of someone seemingly crashing into your bedroom sends you panicking. Alone in your bathroom you find the closest thing that could cause bodily harm before cautiously opening the bathroom door and stepping out wielding a hair dryer. Your window was open fully, the cold breeze reminding you of your uncovered nightgown as you look around. JJ laughs cutely behind you and you almost scream, turning to him exasperated, breathing heavily as you drop the almost useless hair dryer. “Oh….it’s you.”

JJ smiles at you, but somethings off as you notice the sight was less comforting, the smell of liquor hitting your nose. He had been drinking, you thought. The lack of the noise from his motorcycle and the stumbling suddenly made sense when you took note of his inebriated state.

“What are you doing here, arent you supposed to he at Kie’s?”

“I’m not supposed to be anywhere y/n,” He snaps, making his way around your room looking at all the photographs on your wall, unbeknownst to you looking for any sign of Rafe.

“Did you guys get into another fight?” You ask, quickly moving to stand beside him.

“Why do you care?” He spits, a look of disgust on his face when he walks towards you, “What’s going on with you and Rafe?” JJ asks ignoring your question entirely stepping towards you as you stutter, breathing in quickly and turning to walk away from him.

“Nothing, why would you ask that?” Your chest tightens, watching him step closer to you, stepping away from him while watching his bloodshot eyes.

“I saw the way he looked at you, and I heard what he said, what did he mean your party days. What the hell is he talking about y/n.” JJ’s voice rises unknowingly coming close to yelling, so close to you now you he’s practically screaming in your face.

“It was just a rebellious phase, I went to some of his parties and we had fun together.”

“The way we had fun together?” JJ snaps, an accusatory tone filling his voice as he slurs at you. He was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath, and against everything you knew of JJ you felt scared of him.

“No JJ why would you think that? We never did anything like that, it wasn’t that serious.” Your voice turns to begging and he senses the shift in your demeanor, stepping back slightly.

“I’m sorry y/n,” JJ breaks down slightly, his voice breaking and sounding so desperate it almost broke your heart. You move up to him, grabbing his shoulders in an attempt to reassure him. Rubbing them softly with your hand as you speak, making eye contact with him and keeping it.

“It’s okay JJ, I get it,” You sigh watching him while you continue, “I can’t control my feelings for you so I can’t expect you to either. It’s seems like no matter what I do I’m being selfish towards someone.” JJ slowly starts to lean into you, his drunken and seemingly heartbroken state making you jump away just as he gets closer to you.

“Jay we can’t, you can’t. And you really need to stop trying.” JJ comes even closer despite your hand coming up to rest on his chest, he comes so close that his lips almost brush against yours before dropping his head to your neck. You can feel when his tears start to fall, wetting your shoulder while his arms wrap around your waist tightly.

“I’m sorry, I just miss you,” JJ says through broken sobs, “I miss you so fuckin’ much it hurts.” Your heart breaks for him as he speaks, mumbling into your shoulder. “I hated seeing you talk to Rafe, I hate the idea of him being anywhere near you ever again.”

“If he and Mr.Barnes come to an agreement I won’t need to interact with him okay,” You say softly, reassuring him while rubbing his back, “Some of Barnes’ men will be sent to his club on the agreed days and then that will be that and we can forget all about him.”

JJ’s bloodshot eyes meet yours, his tear streaked face sending a pang of guilt directly to your heart. You wished everything was easy, that you could just be each others first everything so you wouldn’t have to go through moments like this. You wished you could have him like you used to. You wished you both could just be happy no matter what. But you could tell it would never be easy now.

“I should probably get going, I shouldn’t stay another night if we’re supposed to be keeping our distance.” You scoff as he turns to walk towards your window, walking around him quickly and pushing him back down your bed with a small laugh.

“Hell no JJ, you are absolutely shit faced and it’s almost midnight. I am not letting you stumble around this island looking for a place to stay just because we can’t control our feelings.” You laugh at his awe struck look he gives you while staring up at you desperately, “Imma get you some water and aspirin for the morning when you’re inevitably hungover. Get comfortable Jay, because you’re not leaving.”

“Thank you.” JJ whispers so quietly you almost didn’t hear him just as he begins to settle into your bed. You enter your connected bathroom without a response, getting him his water and painkillers before returning to find him already entirely knocked out.

And you knew in that moment as you watched JJ’s sleeping figure, comfortable and safe on your bed that he could never find out how close you and Rafe once were.

~~~~

Some serious drama starting here 🤭

~Taglist~ (ask to be added❤️)

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[gunnerfc]

Roles Reversed | Katie McCabe x Arsenal Reader (18+)

Summary: You take Katie's mind of getting a red card

Warnings: a tad bit angsty in the beginning, bottom katie, top reader, oral (katie receiving)

WC: 1.7K

AN: this is technically part 2 to ‘consequences’ but you don't *need* to read it first!

You watched from the bench as the ref held up a yellow card directed towards Katie before she pulled a red card from her pocket. It was Katie’s second yellow of the night, meaning she was sent off for the remainder of the match. You could see her jaw clench as she made her way off the pitch, knowing the second yellow card was not warranted. 

You wanted to follow after her to comfort her but you knew it was better for her to cool down on her own before you talked. Your mind stayed only on Katie for the next twenty minutes, the game long forgotten despite still happening in front of you. The second the ref blew her whistle, you quickly shook hands with the United players and headed down the tunnel. 

You took a small breath before pushing the locker room door open, your eyes falling to Katie who was sitting in her cubby. She didn’t bother changing out of her kit or showering, the soft tackle and the ref’s cards still playing in her mind. You took soft steps toward her, doing your best not to scare her. 

“Babe…,” you mumbled softly as you sat next to her. She lifted her head slightly at your voice but she didnt respond.

“I’m sure the club can argue against the red so you won’t have to miss any games,” you tried to reassure her, your hand grabbing her as you spoke.

Katie pulled her hand from yours and without saying anything stood to grab her things to take a shower. You watched her walk away with a sigh, you knew this incident would bother her for a while. She’d only ever had one red card in her career and getting another wouldn't help how some people thought about her. 

You sighed once more as you got your things to take a shower, your mind racing with different ways to take Katie’s mind off the game altogether. Katie has, on many occasions, distracted you with different things in the bedroom. Maybe finally taking control in the bedroom would provide a good enough distraction and prove to her you can be more dominant after she said you couldn’t.

You could hear your teammates as they entered the locker room, a chorus of ‘Kyra NO!’ gave them away. You shook your head lightly as you finished your shower, quickly getting dressed before making your way back into the main locker room. Katie had finished before you and was sitting in her spot once more as she waited for you. She wordlessly stood from her spot as you finished up, a silent ask for you to hurry up. 

She didn’t bother saying goodnight to your teammates as she headed for your car, your teammates throwing you understanding looks as you said goodnight for both of you. Katie already had the car running when you joined her and she was quick to leave the parking lot once you were buckled up. 

The car ride home was quiet minus the light music from the radio, and neither of you made any effort to speak. You turned your head slightly in her direction, your eyes landing on her still-clenched jaw before they dropped to her tight grip on the steering wheel. You wanted to tell her it was just a card but you knew it meant more to her than that so you kept your thoughts to yourself. 

You were grateful when she pulled up to your place, the tension in the car was starting to get to you. You were both quick to exit the car, Katie grabbing both of your bags as you headed inside. The defender tossed the bags to the floor to be dealt with in the morning before heading to the living room. She sighed deeply as she dropped to the couch, her arms crossing as she tilted her up to stare at the ceiling. 

You joined her after a minute, putting a small amount of space between the two of you as you stared at her. You waited for her to speak but after a few silent moments, you could tell that wasn’t going to happen. 

“Do you wanna talk about,” you asked quality as you fiddled with your fingers.

“No,” she huffed, her staring contest with the ceiling never wavering. You sighed at her bluntness but slid closer to her, your hand moving to hold hers. 

“Can I take your mind off it,” you asked softly as you leaned in the place a light kiss to her jaw. 

Katie swallowed lightly at the tone of your words, licking her lips before her gaze turned to you. Your eyes locked with hers before you shifted to straddle her lap, both of your hands moving to rest on the sides of her neck. You smirked slightly before leaning to kiss her, both of you breathing deeply into the kiss. 

Katie moved her hands to hold your waist as your lips fought each other, her hands pulling you as close as possible to her. You made out for a few moments before you abruptly pulled away from her, Katie’s chest heaving slightly from the kiss. You moved off her, offering her your hand to pull her off the couch. 

Katie took your hand and let you guide her to your bedroom, her thoughts far from the game as she followed you. You stopped at the end of your bed, dropping her hand as you lifted your shirt from your body. Katie’s eyes immediately dropped to your bare chest, a light groan falling from her lips. 

You raised a brow as you nodded at her shirt and she smirked as she took it off, tossing it to join yours on the floor. You bit back your own smirk, knowing she thought she was in control which was the complete opposite. Your lips were back on hers, your chest pressed against hers as you slipped your tongue into her mouth.

Katie’s hands played with the waistband of your pants but before she could attempt to push them off you, you swatted lightly at her hands. Katie pulled away from you slightly in confusion but all you did was smirk. 

“I said I was gonna take your mind off it. Which means I'm in charge,” you teased, your smirk growing as you spoke.

Katie held back a teasing laugh but when she noticed your seriousness, she quirked an eyebrow but nodded anyway. Your hands moved to pull at the drawstrings of her sweatpants, your fingers teasingly tracing her skin before you pulled away completely. 

You mumbled a small ‘go on’ as you nodded to the bed, waiting for her to lay down before you crawled up the bed slowly. You straddled one of her thighs before leaning down to kiss her once more. You pulled away after a moment, shifting so you could push her pants and underwear down her legs, letting her kick them to the floor. 

You traced random shapes on her thighs as you placed small kisses down her body, moving down to make yourself comfortable between her legs. Katie’s breathing picked up as you kissed up her thighs toward where she needed you most. 

You blew softly against her dripping cunt, a low moan falling from the defender's lips at the cool feeling. You smirked to yourself at the noises your girlfriend was making, liking this side of her that you didn’t see often. You placed a light kiss on her clit, a louder groan escaping her lips. 

You dipped your head slightly, running your tongue through her wet folds as her hips bucked up. You wanted to take your time, determined to distract her and prove her wrong all at the same time. You looked up from between her legs as your tongue thrust inside her, your eyes locking with hers as she tilted her head down to watch you.

“F-fuck,” she groaned as she tilted her head back against the pillows, one of her hands moving to tangle in your hair, pushing you further into her.

You sped up your movements, your arms moving to lock around her thighs to keep them open for you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tasted her, moaning into her as you kept going. Katie moaned at the vibrations, swear words falling from her lips as she moved her hips in time with your tongue. 

You let her grind against you, holding your head close to her as she fucked herself against your face. You held her thighs tighter as you went down on her, solely focused on bringing her over the edge. 

“Fuck, baby. Just like that,” her hoarse voice filled the room, her praise making you work harder. 

You could tell she was close as her hips stuttered in their movements and you didn’t let up. Katie came all over your mouth with a loud groan, her hips faltering as she let go. You kept your tongue going, helping her ride through her orgasm before pulling away from her. You looked up between her legs, your mouth and chin coated with cum.

Katie’s chest heaved as she stared up at the ceiling and you smirked at her ragged breathing. You moved up her body, your lips meeting hers in a slow, deep kiss. Both of you moaned at the taste of her on your lips. 

You pulled away after a moment when air became an issue, your smirk gracing your face once more. “Seems like I can be in control, wouldn't you say so babe,” you teased, watching as she rolled her eyes.

“It was okay,” she shrugged, though her ragged breathing and the loud moans you pulled from her told a different story.

You laughed sarcastically at her words and before you could process what was happening, your positions were flipped. “Let me show you how to do it right,” Katie teased as her lips landed on your neck, sucking harshly. 

You knew your time in charge was fleeting but you were confident you would be in charge again soon. Katie might be telling jokes to deflect from how much she enjoyed letting you be in charge but you knew she found it hot. You were successful in both things you set out to accomplish but as Katie’s hand traveled down your body, you didn’t care about anything else.