#it took 90 minutes in line just to get in

[bluemoonrabbit]

Went to a frankly astounding estate sale hoping for pots and pans. Got none, but did get several small baskets, an oversized green metal mug, a collection of old recipe clippings in a vintage Bisquick tin, and a framed print of the above Wyeth painting.

#the former residents were both artists #the man was a designer and locally famous artist #the woman was a fiber artist and had a clothing boutique #they both avidly collected books #so every room was just crammed to bursting with prints textiles books and more #it took 90 minutes in line just to get in

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible address in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

[nouvxllev]

Hi, just wanna say I love your stuff! I was wondering if you’d do a Jenna x reader who is the daughter of Winona Ryder and Jenna meets her on the set of Beetlejuice 2. Winona acting as a wing woman for Jenna.

head over heels, your hand over mine

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^ request!

Words: 5.0k

Warnings: longer than i intended it to be

a/n: first of all... tysm!!! and second of all, thank you for the request!! means alot to me and i wrote it to the best of my abilities, hope you'll like it!!!

seq. || masterlist

Shit, shit, shit...

Jenna cursed under her breath as she practically hammered down the first-floor button as if that was going to make it go faster.

She glanced over to the indicator right above the door, the numbers slowly inching towards the ground floor. Her foot kept directing her side to side in the elevator, a stressed back-and-forth pace she caught herself on all while she gripped the Beetlejuice 2 script right in her hands, the paper almost being punctured with holes and such.

Jenna could almost blame herself for this.

Actually, she does. She damned herself so much she wouldn't be surprised if she got hit by a bus, really.

It wasn't any other day you'd get a role in Beetlejuice, 2, might she add, and even landing the role of the daughter of Winona Ryder who is possibly one of the most outstanding actresses out there and a 90s icon.

And now she's just slightly fucking it up with first impressions with how she's atleast 10 minutes late to their set because she spent her entire night in reading and rereading the script over and over until she perfected her lines to the point it's probably better if she'd just make Beetlejuice herself.

When the doors slid open, Jenna bolted out until she made her way to the entrance, her hand tightly clutching that damn script and her other gripping the strap of her bag.

Fumbling with her phone to call an Uber, she couldn't help but grimace at the thousands upon thousands of texts saying that she was late and her alarm clocks repeatedly being turned on to snooze just minutes before.

Of course, this day of all days just so happened to be the day that the universe decided that it had a grudge on Jenna for whatever reason because all Ubers were somehow booked and it would probably take atleast 30 minutes for another one.

So, like the hardworking actress she is determined to get a first impression even with punctuality falling behind her, she ran.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't long, thank-fucking-god, till Jenna got to set. She slowed her pace a little when she saw the cameras and people surrounding a particular area.

She took a moment to compose herself as she approached them, smoothing down her pants and fixing her hair all while she tried to catch her breath before possibly collapsing on the ground. The crew members spared her a glance, how comforting, even if they all had concerned looks on their faces.

Jenna always worked with such talented actors and directors, and now here she was working with Winona Ryder meanwhile she was looking like she ran a marathon on the side while going to set.

"You're here!" Winona called out, lowering the script in her hands while she offered a warm smile. "We almost thought there were some complications in your schedule."

The young actress offered a sheepish smile, embarrassment flowing in her mind as she offered a weak hand gesture. "I'm so sorry, all Ubers were somehow booked and I woke up late." She admitted before introducing herself. "I'm Jenna. Ortega." She added.

Winona chuckled, "No worries. The tech team is sorting out some equipment issues, so it's a bit of free time right now." She explained, offering a handshake. "Winona Ryder. Your mother. Well, on-screen." She joked while Jenna laughed with it.

"God, sorry if I look worn out. I really admire your work, it's all so amazing." Jenna took her hand, reciprocating the gesture. She was almost going to add something until a figure approached Winona, looking like a split-perfect resemblance of her. And oh how she did the fastest double-take in her whole life.

"Oh, right!" Winona pulled, possibly the most prettiest and gorgeous, girl Jenna has laid eyes on in her 21 years of continuous breathing by the shoulders and pushed her in front of the young actress. Now life without you suddenly looks like something she just completely wasted her precious time on.

Just by looking at Winona and how excitement reflected in her eyes, Jenna could tell how much she beamed with pride for her daughter; it made her heart swell.

"Meet my daughter, Y/n."

There were things Jenna should do when she meets someone. She introduces herself in a calm manner and maybe engage in some friendly talk with them whether if it's the most awkward-est thing in her life or one of the moments she'd like to spend forever in.

What she shouldn't do is slowly have a mid-introduction nosebleed, completely throw out the knowledge that she has the ability to speak and say words while her mouth is half-agape and her eyes wide and never blinking. This rule seems to be more strict when she's convinced she has met the love of your life.

It's safe to say that Jenna checked all the boxes on the latter.

Jenna met your gaze, and oh how that was the stupidest decision she had ever made in her entire life. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks, breath caught in her throat, she tried to speak for a second but nothing came. It was like she was drowning but in the best way possible. And also falling head over heels in the worst way possible.

It's concerning how she almost wants to drop down and marry you on the spot; she's already rehearsing her vows inside her brain.

Jenna raised her hand, a shaky one at that, to offer a handshake. "I'm Jenny," she managed to squeak out, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at fumbling her own damn name. "I mean, Jenna! Sorry, not Jenny. I'm Jenna. Jenna Ortega." Oh, fuck, please just slit my throat already.

In every bad and awkward introduction, there's always someone from the other line slightly concerned but plays with it.

Your eyes crinkled, a bright sight to see that would put all sunrises to shame, and your lips parted like how the clouds part after a gloomy day, letting out a laugh that calmed Jenna's heart almost immediately. It was still running and skipping a fuck ton of beats per second, but your laugh seemed to warm it all.

"I'm Y/n, of course." You held Jenna's faltering eye contact as you reciprocated her gesture, "I'm really only here to accompany my mom," you explained. Please stay here forever. Better yet, be with me. Jenna almost said.

You shook her hand in the most softest way possible, her palm fitting right into yours. "Can't believe I met you, honestly." Jenna heard you mutter under your breath, a squeal following it.

Oh, if falling head over heels over you was a sin, she'd gladly be the epitome of something so mortal.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that was only a week ago. Just imagine how much internal panic she goes through whenever she sees you now.

Jenna repeatedly cursed under her breath, staring at the reflection of herself in the mirror as she gripped the cold parts of the sink, glaring at herself in complete thought.

Almost so serious as if her mind wasn't battling with something so completely stupid she'd rather drown in self-pity and misery.

Jenna Ortega, deemed as America's #1 IT girl who practically swooned all seven continents by now, almost had a near anaphylactic shock when her hand grazed over yours and how you gave her possibly the most sweetest and soul-crushing smile with that stupidest crinkle in your eye to ever exist on this damned earth, holy fuck.

Why should she be so head over heels for you?

She lowered her head in defeat, a heavy sigh escaping her as the same image of your smile flickered in her mind, and now a stupid grin from your stupid image graced her lips.

It was only a week in being on the Beetlejuice set, and she damn near lost her mind.

You were always there, well of course you were there since you were Winona Ryder's daughter, but she didn't expect to be so obsessed with you to the point she needs to go to the bathroom to silently scream whenever she hears or sees your intoxicating smile.

It's sweet. Almost endearing to her.

As if she even has the right to even think about you in that way.

Jenna stepped outside, patting her hands dry by the hem of her shirt. her name already being called out by the directors, their voices only getting louder and louder until it dwindled down to nothing and she could only assume that Winona stopped them, it was still her break after all. She was almost like a real mother to her, a comforting one at that.

She started to take a pattern in her steps before she saw you sitting on the railings of the trailer. More importantly, Jenna's trailer.

Okay, she shouldn't have seen this as a sign from the universe that you liked her back, but she did and that was all the hope that the fate or whatever deity could do because she was too desperate and too drunk on the lack of attention and attraction you were giving her.

But how could she not do that when you look so perfect just being... you? Being everything she wanted? Needed? Just being so damn perfect almost feels like Jenna could die.

"You like my daughter, don't you."

Jenna looked behind her, the sudden voice that crept being Winona, the mother of the daughter she had been smitten for, a noticeable faint smile on her lips. It was more of a statement than a question. A fact, really.

Jenna could almost deny it if it wasn't so accurate. But what was she supposed to say? "Yes, I do like your daughter, in fact, I love her so much I would absolutely give up my very career to buy her the most expensive wedding ring to ever be created from the hands of a human, or even a Greek God perhaps, to show that she owns my entire heart, body, and soul."

Panic was evident, Winona could clearly tell by the way Jenna looked like was scramming to think up of a half-assed excuse.

"Yes—I mean, not like like. I love her, really. She's talented, hardworking, and passionate in the things she talks about. But that's really it; I love Y/n, in a friendly way." Jenna stammered. Even if she was spouting complete lies and nonsense about how she doesn't have a massive crush on you, her gaze was stuck on, of course, you yourself.

Winona arched an eyebrow, "Jenna, I know when someone is horribly in love with my daughter and who’s not."

"The both of you were always somehow joined together, even if none of you were talking. You’re always finding a reason to bring her up in a conversation even if no one was even talking about her. Also, everyone takes notice of how your gaze was always focused on Y/n. Even on scene, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her for a second."

Yeah, that seems about right.

Jenna sighed, her line of sight never laying off of you. It's amazing how you still haven't noticed she and your mother was staring at you like a bunch of stalkers.

"Y/n deserves someone like her, someone in her league," she turned around, now walking in the opposite direction to her original one. She almost sounded like a teenage boy who realized they couldn't get with the popular girl. "She looks like someone even from the heavens above couldn’t fathom they created her from their own mind and hands."

Winona's expression softened as she caught up to Jenna, now walking beside her. "If you, The Jenna Ortega, fail to get her attention and love then it's all over for us." She never heard someone talk so romantic about her daughter, it's truly unfair how the ones who love the most always fall short.

Jenna's steps slowed, her body slumping against the fall as her gaze was fixed on the ground. God, why was she acting like this over you?

The young actress nodded, her hands going up to her face and sliding them down as she spoke, "She's like this incredible and unattainable dream you want to continue after you wake up, Winona." She mumbled through her hands, "Y/n's gorgeous, gentle, charming, and just… perfect." She let go of her face, her hands now on her sides. "It's intimidating just by looking at her, knowing she's the essence of beauty and perfection. Like, how do you compete with that? Overall be someone who she wants to stick by her side?"

The actress observed the young one, Jenna's head down and fidgeting with her rings. Winona could almost say that this was the most vulnerable sight she ever saw from her. "You don't have to match her perfection, let alone measure yourself up to that; you just need to be the missing piece she didn't know she needed. "

Jenna took a deep breath, her head slowly rising, "I just don't want to mess it up. She deserves someone as awesome as her, and if she ever likes me back, I'm afraid of waking up and realizing I'm not enough for her to be someone she loves."

Winona tilted her head, crossing her arms, "Tell you what, I don't know much about my daughter now. She's not closed off, but she isn't open either." She could see how Jenna flicked her head upwards, listening attentively. "But I do know that she's been watching all of your movies and shows up to this point."

Jenna's eyes widened in surprise. She doesn't wanna take any risks, but she doesn't wanna lose any chances either. "She... she has?"

Winona nodded, a soft and warm smile playing on her lips, just like the one you always have if not more comforting.

"I could never hear the end of it. She says you have this genuine charm whenever you speak, you're calm but you're also being true to yourself. Y/n admires you so much, I almost get sick of it," she laughed that pulled a chuckle from Jenna. "You're perfect in her eyes, but that's not what she likes about you. She likes you because you're authentic, yourself." She reached out for Jenna's shoulders, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I'll be your wingman. I'm sure you're the perfect girl for my daughter."

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And that was maybe two to three months ago.

Now Jenna's thinking that you might be the most oblivious person to ever roam this entire globe. She's been dropping hints everywhere you go and you still wouldn't catch up that she has feelings for you!

Ever since Jenna got into Winona's wing, she knew everything that makes you happy. Your music taste, what type of flowers you like, what type of outings you like, clothes, scents, foods, colors, even legos, just basically everything under the sun she gave to you within a heartbeat.

Jenna gives you flowers everyday, hell even bouquets if she's feeling fancy. Reads and writes you letters, and ever since Winona gave her your number, she's been sending you voicemails of your favorite songs every morning as some goodmorning text. She's been nothing but romantic to you! Was she just missing something?

The only thing that really progressed was something of strangers to friends. The two of you were as close as ever to the point if one of you were needed, somebody probably would need to surgically remove both of you.

But that was it! No nothing, just friends. It was selfish for Jenna to want something more when she has the love of her life close to her as a friend, sure, but she needed just a little bit more before she mentally goes insane.

"I mean, come on!" Jenna complained to Winona, sitting across from the other chair just right beside her trailer, script in her hands but she was paying more attention to Jenna. "Flowers, letters, voicemails… I'm practically screaming 'I like you' at this point." She slumped over the table, "or maybe she's just really ignoring them."

"I think you're thinking too deeply, Jenna," Winona stated, looking over to somewhere far, "maybe you should confess. She's right there."

Jenna was about to stand up and say it all out and die in a hole if she gets rejected until she realized you were wearing something so... fucking gorgeous? stunning? breathtaking? ethereal? She needed a stronger word than all words combined.

It wasn't your everyday casual wear, in fact, it was something you'd wear to go on a date. A date that meant something, a date that you'd go with another person and to confess their love.

Oh, don't fucking tell her she was too slow to confess and some random dude confessed earlier.

"I don't..." Jenna stammered, she could sense that agonizing feeling of her heart sinking, a stinging pain but it was mixed with immense pressure, like she was almost drowning. "I don't really think it's the right time."

Winona let out a sympathetic sigh, "she did tell me that she was going somewhere important." She waved in your direction, grabbing your attention. "Y/n!"

Jenna didn't know it was possible to drown without having any bodies of water near you, now she was fully experiencing it by how her heart sank even further as she heard Winona's words.

She shouldn't be surprised, after all, somebody actually had the guts and mindset to actually confess to you personally without having to hide behind a facade and without having to drop a fuck ton of hints instead of saying it out loud.

It stung. Thinking that someone out there was that one for you. And how that someone was never Jenna. But it was sweet. She winced.

Jenna couldn't shake the pang and sting of disappointment as she watched to walk over to Winona, a smile on your lips like you've met the most wonderful person to ever be in your life. She couldn't read if it was real, and she hoped to God it was fake.

"What's with the get-up?" Winona asked, standing up while giving Jenna the look.

"Going on a date with this guy, he asked me." You smiled, yet again, but it was even brighter.

Yeah, she figured. When did she even assume that you liked women anyway?

"Can I borrow your car, mom, please?" You asked of her, your puppy eyes going in action while you mentally crossed your fingers.

Jenna wasn't the one to brag, but she could drive a car! Not that idiot guy who couldn't even take whatever vehicle to fetch her as a nice gesture. Hell, it was a date for godsakes!

Winona sighed, glancing between Jenna and you. "Sure, you can borrow the car," she stated before digging into her pockets and fetching her car keys, plotting it down to your hands, "but make sure to bring it back in one piece."

Jenna bit her lip, suppressing the urge to completely pull herself out of her chair and scream 'I love you so goddamn much, Y/n! Can't you see I'm the one for you and not some guy who couldn't even go the mile to drive you to the damn date!?' But no. Instead, she stayed in her seat, nodded as a goodbye, and forced yet another smile.

"Thanks for the flowers by the way, Jenna! I should really pay you back sometime." You chuckled, before hugging her head as your way of goodbye. "I'll tell you all about it when I get home."

"Don't worry about the flowers. No need to pay me back," Jenna replied, doing her damn best to keep her tone light and her knuckles not so light. As you hugged her, Jenna couldn't help but savor the moment, imagining that it wasn't a goodbye to go off on some date with some random dude but rather a lovely gesture. "I'll be waiting to hear all about it."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was atleast three to five hours ago.

Jenna never knew how a 2$ caesar salad bought from a suspicious vendor on the sidewalks could be so depressing but still mock her on how she just lost the love of her life to someone who actually had the guts to confess until she actually experienced it.

It was a slow day on set. Probably because it was already so late at night. There were still some scenes being recorded, but most of it was Winona's.

So along those hours when Jenna wasn't with you or she couldn't text you through the phone, all she could really do was stare from afar and hope that you'd magically have some miraculous change of mind mid-date and maybe you'll soon believe and realize Jenna was the one for you after all.

Of course, life wasn't like a damn movie and that damn date was still going to happen no matter what she does.

Winona sat beside Jenna, offering a sympathetic look at how Jenna was poking around her lettuce. "You know that's her quote-on-quote I don't really give two shits outfit but I still need to look good for a requirement that is people's feelings."

Jenna let go of her fork, damn even it looked sad. "But she looks beautiful."

Winona could almost roll her eyes if not for the young actress wallowing in her own thoughts. "It's because you're head over heels for her, Jenna. She could wear some obnoxious color-clashing clothes and she'd still look like a goddess for you."

Jenna sighed, picking up her fork again and halfheartedly stabbing a folded lettuce leaf. "I mean, don't you?" she asked, glancing at Winona. "You're her mother."

Winona shrugged, "Her clothes, her choice, but I still absolutely would not." She laughed, and her smile brightened when Jenna allowed a smile to crack through her lips.

Jenna could almost face-plant herself into the salad bowl if not for a notification pinging in Winona's phone. A notification that Winona only applied for you.

"...Or you could tell her that she's much better off with you rather than some guy that stood her up." Winona showed the phone to Jenna, your message illuminating on the screen.

y/n

mom can u pick me up? karaoke room 217 stood up on me lol come quick, pls. thx

Jenna would've been lying if she said she wasn't jumping, screaming, throwing up in literal joy.

Well, of course, she was mad that you of all people were stood up, but she was semi-glad that you were.

Jenna's urgency was visible as she scrambled to get out of her seat, grabbing her bag with such hast and making a sudden beeline for the exit.

"Tell her that you can't go! I wanna surprise her," She yelled to Winona, her excitement in her voice echoing through the room. It's almost weird and insane how happy she was about how you were stood up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You waited for 2 hours.

It wasn't disappointing. You already knew it was just some sort of dare or a prank that one of his friends pulled, but you showed up anyway. Not like because you wanted to play with his feelings; you couldn't do that if you didn't have any.

In fact, you had feelings for Jenna.

Ever since she showed up on your screen, she was the only actress you could ever think about. She was charming, alluring, the only person who could make the daylight so dark if her smile was out of place.

You didn't know her, personally then, but you loved her. You were willing to start wars with the world, may it be against you or may all odds and fate oppose you, you’d do everything for her even if it kills you to be someone who would take all her hidden suffering and plead for tears with your palms locked and thrown away.

And now that you were working with her on set, you couldn't help but be someone you're not. All thanks to you and your mother on reluctantly giving up on the idea of not bringing you to set. You wanted to confess, you really did. It was just a silly little crush like you'd always have but this one with Jenna seemed real and your life would've ended if your feelings were rejected.

Though, even after all that, Jenna was the one you wanted to be with. The one you hoped would walk through that damn door and hug you until your worries and thoughts all disappeared, only met with her voice and her comforting arms.

That would've been a fleeting memory, wishful thinking. That is until the very girl that made you go insane rushed into the room.

What the fuck.

She was exhausted, you could tell by her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of her; looking like she had gone the extra mile and maybe even drove a car on the way instead of running, just to be there with you. You could almost start laughing and be that snarky person you've always been to her if not for everything else fading into the background until Jenna was the only one left.

Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms around your body as she tightened the hug as if you'd die if she ever let go of your body. The warmth of her touch, the comfort in her soul, and her very being brought something so grand as you hugged her back. You feared that letting go would mean losing her forever, and she thought the same way.

"I love you." She murmured on your shoulders, closing her eyes. You notice how her voice cracked with vulnerability and almost sorrow as you tightened your hold on her.

"I love you," she whispered yet again, as if you didn't hear her the firs time. "I love you, I love you, I just love you." She dug her head under your neck, her breath warm on your skin as you waited for her to finish.

You could feel Jenna's heartbeat against your chest, fast and beating while it synced with your own. "I love you, Y/n. You don’t know how many lifetimes I would kill myself for you to look into my soul, everything beneath, and even the darkest parts of my heart so then you’ll see how I perceive you to be everything I look for. I can't understand how you don't understand how much you mean to me. How much your laughter was something I didn't know would be the cure to whatever terminal illness I had in life, your actions being my motivation, your soul being my guiding light, and your smile being something so bright that not even the sun could beat its glory."

Jenna slowly pulled away from you, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. The room was always so silent, but it never felt like it was the funeral of sound itself.

"I'm sorry—That—That wasn't... I didn't—" she stammered, her body already getting up and pulling away from you.

Gently, you reached out and cupped her face with your hands, your thumbs brushing away the newly formed tears that had welled up in her eyes and dripped from her cheeks. You could feel the warmth of her skin beneath your touch, her freckles, and everything that made Jenna her was right beneath your palm. You want nothing but to cherish it.

You couldn't think of a reply. You could, but it would never beat the confession Jenna had for you. It was more than a mere confession, but something out of a book that would put every writer to shame.

"Is this okay?" Your eyes searched for Jenna's consent in hers as you leaned in ever so slightly, her breath lingering on your skin until Jenna's lips met yours in a hesitant, gentle kiss. The touch of her soft lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, her hands coming up to cradle your face as she melted into you while your own hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.

Life felt like something you wasted without her lips touching yours. How you felt everything and how you were everything under her soft touch, her presence. It was if every moment before her had been leading to this one. Every heartbeat, every breath, every time you've experienced something happy, sad, or even something conflicted was building up to the moment your lips finally met hers. You felt whole, alive, reassured, and comforted.

Her touch felt like a warm embrace from something so indestructible, a star so far away that only you could see it shine from afar but yet you could feel every inch of its presence.

Then it stopped. The both of you pulled back.

But your heart never did.

"You know I asked for your mom to be my wingman."

"Please don't destroy this moment we have by mentioning my mom, Jenna. I'm serious."

Jenna chuckled, her eyes twinkling, "give her some credit. I never would've confessed to you without her."

You couldn't help but smile, realizing she was still the Jenna you fell in love with. "I guess, but I don't really want to talk about my mom after I just got stood up and then kissed the girl I love."

Jenna's chuckle turned into a soft giggle, her hand finding it's way to your palm as she intertwined her fingers with yours. "Also, for the record, that guy was an idiot."

You nodded after shared laughter. With everything that's going around between the two of you, you almost miss how Winona arrived just in time. Standing by the door with a smile on her face.

But even with Jenna's hand over yours, she'd still fall head over heels for you.

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just some fuckass aftermath dialogues:

W: "You finally confessed." J: "Did she tell you?" W: "Well for one she's been awfully cheery and gave me a questioning I love you mom and offered me to go shopping with her."

#jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x femreader #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

routine vibe check: what’s the best starter pokemon and why are you right (pictures and long paragraphs of evidence welcomed and appreciated)

Gonna get a good grade in vibe check, normal to want and inevitable to achieve because I have objectively correct Pokemon opinions and will block naysayers

OKAY LET'S GO

I decided to do, like, a top 5 list or something, because I'm bad at picking a single favourite of stuff. And then even that overwhelmed me, so I found one of those tier ranking list sites and produced this:

It was done in less than a minute, so if I wanted to get really picky, I don't know if I would be fully wedded to it (not sure if maybe Sceptile should be one higher) BUT it did help to highlight the important ones.

So!

5. Bulbasaur

It's. Just. So. Nice.

Like you can find cooler, more beautiful, cuter, fancier... there's a whole bunch of ways for a Pokemon to be great. But you will never ever find a nicer Pokemon than Bulbasaur. It's so lovely. Look at it. Look at its face.

I can't put it higher, because the rest of the line is fairly bland in terms of development. It's good and logical and fun, don't get me wrong, but Ivysaur and Venusaur just look like bigger versions with More Flower and Less Cute rather than creatures in their own right. To be honest, if it weren't a starter requiring a three-stage evolution, you could do away with Ivysaur. Something I don't like about a lot of lazy three-step lines is that the middle step just looks like a transitional mid phase rather than a Proper Creacher, like they were artificially inflating the Pokemon number count. Meanwhile it took us until Paldea to get a Girafarig evo that would actually make the giraffe tall. Madness.

However my first ever Pokemon was a Bulbasaur I called Daffodil, and I have traded him forward onto every single successive generation since. He is, quite literally, my First Ever Pokemon. I love him desperately. I still have him. Not many people still have their First Ever Pokemon. But I do and I love him. So, Bulbasaur gets the fifth spot.

4. Snivy

Again, a victim of the Banal Transitional Middle Evo, but both Snivy and Serperior are incredible, and as Meatloaf took such pains to tell us, two out of three ain't bad.

But Snivy! It's so snooty! I was super lucky with mine, too, because I beat the 12.8% odds and got a female, and I loved her. Normally the initial baby starters are designed to be cute but Snivy has SO MUCH PERSONALITY, she's great. And the design of Serperior is utterly gorgeous. She keeps the expression, but rather than the Animal Crossing-style snooty-cute vibe of Snivy you get this thousand yard withering stare of an empress whose servant (you) has just turned up dripping mud in her throne room and asked her for money. Her green and gold colour scheme is exquisite. Her filigree design, including her high collar, give off the air of wealth and sophistication befitting her immaculate pedigree. And all this! In a simple snake. Incredible design work, 10 out of 10, no notes.

Begone, you miserable peasant. Have him boiled.

3. Torchic

Now I'll be real with you, lads, but Pokemon design hit its stride with Hoenn and then got better.

It's partly a fashion thing, of course - you look at some of the Kanto designs and they are remarkably 90s, because that's when the franchise launched. Others are clearly a product of what the 1990's were capable of producing in pixels on an already over-stretched cartridge medium. Like we like to clown on Red and Green/Blue now, but my god, those game designers performed a miracle with Pokemon. Every single square inch of space was used to make that game, and complex designs weren't going to cut it.

(With that said, there is still no excuse for Dragonite.)

And then Johto came about and its Pokedex sucks ass. It's mostly new evolutions for existing Kanto stars, useless babies to inflate the dex number, or poorly thought out single-evos like the inexplicably short Girafarig and the unacceptably dreary Dunsparce (our greatest thanks to Paldea for fixing both of those).

BUT THEN CAME HOENN (trumpets intensify)

And we get habitats! Biomes! A different regional climate, gifting us a brand new area of Pokecology! And therefore a brand new flush of creativity in Pokemon design across the board; less dated, and more inclined to be unique rather than a rehash of Kantonian stuff.

Which brings me nicely to this lad:

Now, I mean. Just look at him. Fucking hell. Cute starter stage, check. LOOK AT HIM FACE

AND THEN he became, at the time, a brand-new unique typing: Fire/Fighting. I realise that is now the norm for like, half of the Fire starters, but that's because of Torchic, actually. He was super popular. In fact if you ever play Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and you do what my husband and I like to call a Mynci Dave run (use one Pokemon almost exclusively, meaning it gets all the experience points and therefore over-levels to a terrifying degree, allowing you to sweep the game; so named after the noble Primeape we first did this with, Mynci Dave), Torchic is the PERFECT Pokemon to choose, because almost everything is weak to either Fire or Fighting in that region.

Anyway, Combusken is, again, kind of mid (although props for the inverted colour scheme and the fact that it actually does look like a teenager.) But Blaziken, on the other hand... Blaziken is a six foot ninja chicken with wings for hair whose Pokedex entry describes it as able to leap tall peaks in a single bound, a feat it achieves after strengthening its legs by hoofing Geodudes down mountains like they're fucking footballs

Also an impressive bulge.

My first was called Gilgamesh, and he was fucking great. For a long time, this mad lad was my actual favourite Pokemon, not just starter. Brilliant. Love him. Five stars out of three. King.

2. Fuecoco

It would probably surprise you to know I've not actually used one. I chose Sprigatito, and I do really like Meowscarada, actually. But pretty anthro cat boys have been done in Pokemon quite a bit at this point; cats, dogs and rabbits are over-represented in terms of Poke-taxa. Possibly this is another reason for a toad, a snake and a chicken being 5, 4 and 3 so far (ooh, basilisk ingredients, I've just realised.) They're new and unusual! I like an Eeveelution as much as the next person, but they're a whole family of cat-dog-rabbits, like.

However.

Nintendo has tried its hand at Pokecrocodilians three times (Feraligatr, Krookodile, Skeledirge), and they have gotten so much better at design each time that the three of them are basically a scale proxy for ongoing design improvement. Look, I've made a diagram:

EXCEPT

(Strap in)

This one is that rare thing: a three step line that deserves to be a three step line. Let's talk Fuecoco first:

SO CUTE. It's charming, it's charismatic, it's adorable.

It also has hints of its evolutionary end goal, but not like an undeveloped middle evo. It likes singing. The white face hints at the eventual calavera, and it looks a bit like a lil chilli pepper - a ghost pepper, probably in reference to the eventual Fire/Ghost typing. But the colours and shape right now also look a bit reminiscent of a babygro, because this thing is a cute starter. Lookit them teefs. That tuft. Its lovely smile. Beautiful.

And then, at the point you expect it to turn into just the awkward teenage version of the adult, instead we get Crocator:

Oh boy. Oh there's so much to say. Okay okay:

The region it's from is based on Spain, but this thing is incorporating Hispanic elements from across the board. It's a mariachi in a sombrero, except the sombrero also looks kind of like a ring of Mexican marigolds and kind of like a Catalonian Easter cake called Mona de Pascua that has an egg (or egg-shaped confectionary) in the middle. Body shape and markings look kind of like a piñata. The white face is now on its way to a calavera, with the cheek and nostril markings more defined. And it sings, with its open mouth (also how crocodiles release heat, appropriate for a Fire type) and signified by the mariachi theme.

THAT IS A LOT.

And then it becomes Skeledirge. A Fire/Ghost crocodile.

Now the obvious design here is the calavera and the  Día de Muertos theming, which is part of it. But there are also many examples of crocodile figures in Spanish folkloric ghost stories: the Catalonian Cocollona, the Lizard of Magdalena from Jaén, or the Drac de Na Coca, or even the Cuca - that one is Portuguese, but turns up in both Brasil and the Iberian Peninsula including in parts of Spain. It's got a Gaudi vibe (like Barcelona). It's got an alebrije vibe (like Mexico).

And the bird! Nile crocs have a cleaning symbiosis with Egyptian plovers; it also sits at the tip of the snout where male gharials have a sort of bulbous bit to help them make sounds (the singing thing).

But this is what the bird does when Skeledirge uses Torch Song:

It becomes a microphone, then grows in size and attacks the opponent in Phoenix form. Phoenix: Fire/Ghost. Resurrected from the ashes.

Quite simply, your fave could never.

5. Rowlet

My god. (My god)

gasp

Look at this lovely creacher. He is so round and so soft and so lovely. He looks like that baby Yoda meme. He looks like that cat that someone's landlord said they would make an exception for because he looks very polite. Look!!! At his lil bow tie!!! He is a smartly dressed young man and he is kind and he is... well, a bit vacant behind the eyes. A himbo, if you will. But he is all the better for that. What a lovely owl.

He looks a little like a barn owl, perhaps, and those were imported to Hawai'i, where Rowlet is from. But I think he looks a little like a Pueo owl, and given that he will eventually be a Ghost type, that seems right - pueos are one of the physical forms assumed by ʻaumākua in Hawai'ian culture, as I understand it.

And then, hang onto your tits, lads, because this is another banger - THE MIDDLE EVOLUTION IS ITS OWN DESIGN!!! (confetti cannons)

I said earlier that boring middle evos are like just awkward teenagers of the adults. Here, I present to you, a very deliberate Awkward Teenager, in Dartrix:

IT'S A DANDY

I love him I love him I love him

He plays with his fringe and if you touch it without permission he has a tantrum. God, he's so charismatic. Also, that fringe further suggests the pueo - they have pronounced outer rims around their facial disks like that. Look at his bow tie and tail coat. So smart and handsome

This one is so good that it could be the final evo. This is actually my issue with the Delphox line - Braixen is amazing, and then it becomes the bland boredom of Delphox. Braixen should have been the final stop. Here, Dartrix is much the same - good enough to be a high-quality end goal.

Where they differ is that Decidueye is better again.

IT SHOOTS ARROWS MADE OF ITS OWN QUILLS

Also, fun fact - This line is the only starter to change secondary typing. Dartrix is part Flying; but on evolving a second time into Decidueye, it switches to Grass/Ghost. In this evolution, it's definitely mostly a pueo, so the ʻaumākua reference is IN, but actually barn owls also have their associations with the dead in various cultures.

The crown of feathers around its head are also reminiscent of an ayaigasa - a hat worn by Japanese samurai archers. And yet! AND YET!

It still has its lil bow tie look. Bigger now, more of a cravat; but there it is.

A perfect Pokemon, and a perfect evolutionary line. No notes.

Anyway, thank you for this chance to waste three and a half hours writing this essay

#asks #pokemon #long post #gif

[heavyhitterheaux]

Love You a Little Bit

Synopsis: Jack is captivated by a new country singer out of Nashville when he goes to one of her shows reluctantly. When the two of you meet, Jack finds out about your hesitations on getting to know him and tries to do his best in order to change your mind.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Country Singer!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack sighed in frustration as he, Urban, and Clay finally got settled in their seats on the balcony of the venue to see some singer that Urban had been obsessed with lately and apparently he learned on the way over here that Clay was infatuated with her too. He didn't even know her name, but everyone had insisted that he get some fresh air and get out of the studio at least for a few hours despite his protests. He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts by Clay talking to him.

“Will you get that look off your face? You can relax for a few hours.”

“You and Urban wanted to come, not me. I have a deadline to meet and I seem to be the only one that cares.”

“Will your ass stop being so fucking dramatic? You might end up liking her music.” Urban added as he took a long sip of the Coke that he had gotten before walking upstairs to the balcony area.

“Who is performing anyway?” Jack asked as he rolled his eyes since he knew that there was no possible way that he could escape.

“Her name is Y/N Y/M/N, she's gotten really popular over the last year. You've probably heard one of her songs but didn't know it was her.” Clay answered as he noticed that the venue was starting to fill up.

Jack simply shrugged in response because the name didn't sound familiar to him and pulled out his phone to pass the time in the hopes that you would be coming on stage soon.

About thirty more minutes passed when the lights began to dim and cheers were erupting across the entire venue. Jack was taken aback when he noticed that Clay and Urban had joined in and simply shook his head at them. Smoke was lining the stage before you appeared and the screams got even louder.

“Nashville, it's been a while, but I promised that I would be back for you. How are we doing tonight?”

Once Jack had seen you for the first time, his eyes went wide and went even wider when you opened your mouth and began to sing.

“You got that

90 proof love when the bar shuts down

2am you're just drunk On the town

Got that lonely kickin in

Jack D got you lookin for a rewind

One more last time

Like the last time

Hittin up my phone

Sayin swearing that you miss me

You ain't been the same

Ever since you ain't with me

But I know You ain't here in the name of love

You're just here in the name of whiskey”

And you could play the guitar along with the piano.

The entire time that you performed, Jack was mesmerized and made it his mission to find everything out about you that he possibly could once the show was over. What he didn't expect was when you were singing your last song, “Buckle Bunny”, a person that he assumed was on your team came up to him on the balcony.

“Mr. Harlow, I'm Carmen, Ms. Y/L/N's assistant, Ms. Y/L/N is requesting that you meet her backstage once the show is over.” She politely said to him.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Jack answered nonchalantly, but nevertheless he was excited.

Once you got off the stage, Carmen handed you a water bottle that you took a generous swig from before she was eyeing you as she led the two of you down the hallway leading to your dressing room.

“What, you weirdo?” You asked her as she then took your guitar from you as the two of you were now in front of your dressing room door.

“You won't believe who came tonight!!” Carmen basically yelled at you, but then she got quiet and you were waiting for her to go on.

“Are you going to tell me or just stand there smiling?”

“JACK HARLOW!” Carmen exclaimed excitedly, but you just continued to look at her which immediately made her get a confused look on her face.

“Don't you like his music? I invited him backstage when the show was over so that the two of you could talk.”

“YOU WHAT!?” You replied while looking at her in disbelief.

“I found out where he was sitting and told him to come backstage! What's the problem? Having a connection like that could be huge for you.”

You took a deep sigh before responding to her and had to realize that she couldn't have known your dislike for him since you had never told her.

“He was rude to my best friend Rory and ever since then I was never able to look at him the same. She has a vendetta against him and since we're basically the same person, so do I.”

Your next thoughts were interrupted by security bringing Jack back along with two other people and Carmen quickly pinched you to tell you to fix your face.

Before Jack could say anything to you, one of the people who he was with quickly stepped in front of him and you learned that his name was Urban who come to find out was Jack's best friend and he simply told you how much he loved your music. While the other person who introduced himself you learned was Clay and Jack's younger brother. The resemblance was undeniable and soon it was Jack's turn.

“It's nice to meet you and I love your voice.” Was all he said before bringing you into a hug which you gladly accepted.

“Thank you so much and thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.” You replied when the two of you finally broke apart.

“These two said I could use a break from being in the studio all day so the credit goes to them for bringing me.”

“I'm happy that I was able to distract you for a little while. Do you usually record in Nashville?” You asked to make friendly conversation.

“As of lately. I've been spending a lot of my time here and back home in Louisville.”

“Oh, that's right. I forgot that's where you're from.”

“So you’re a fan I take it?”

By this time, Carmen had walked off and she said for you to fix your face, but not to lie to the man.

“At one point I was.” You answered being completely honest. By this time, everyone else was deep in their own conversations and no one was really paying the two of you any attention.

“Wait? What changed?” Jack asked while laughing because he thought you were joking with him.

“My best friend met you and you weren't the nicest towards her so seeing as me and her are the same person, that's what started it.”

Jack looked at you confused and didn't quite know what to say next as you were literally just staring at him with a tight lipped smile. He didn't get a chance to respond as Carmen interrupted making all of your attention go to her.

“Hey, more people are asking for you.”

“Okay. Jack, it was nice meeting you. If you're going to be around Nashville for a while maybe we'll run into each other.”

“Uh yeah, nice meeting you too.”

Jack didn't know how to feel about the conversation that had just taken place and he was at a loss as you walked away from him and was laughing at something Carmen had whispered to you. First thinking that you were joking and then confirming that you weren't by your continued explanation made a pit grow in the bottom of his stomach. He had quickly become a fan during your show and seeing you perform, but it was clear that you didn't want anything to do with him despite how polite you had been. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Urban telling him that he and Clay wanted to go to a restaurant down the street from the venue and Jack quickly agreed with the thought of you now being pushed to the back of his mind.

A few days later, Jack was back in the studio when he decided to take a breather and was making his way to the front of the building to exit it in order to get some fresh air. You had been on his mind heavily and he simply wanted to get another opportunity to speak with you in the hopes that the two of you could reconcile and start fresh without the incident concerning your best friend hanging over his head. He knew that he wasn't a mean or a rude person so this had truly been bothering him and he hated the fact that now that was your perception of him. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going as he was looking down at his phone and mistakenly bumped into someone.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He heard a small voice say, and fate must have been on his side because when he looked down, he was staring at you.

“Y/N, uh hey. It's not your fault. I wasn't watching where I was going. You record here too?” He asked, trying to make conversation, but all you did was give him that same tight lipped smile.

“Yes, I always have since I started recording my music. I'm always in studio B. For some reason all the other ones don't do it the same for me.” You politely answered as you typed on your phone quickly to let Carmen know where you were. Of course you were late once again and she was currently yelling at you through a series of text messages.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Jack spoke up again, coming to the conclusion that he probably wasn't going to get very far with you. At least not today. This conversation felt like pulling teeth and last time he checked he wasn't a dentist.

“Well, I don't want to keep you, so….”

Jack didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before you immediately cut him off.

“See you around.” You quickly answered as you made your way down the hallway. Jack simply sighed as he watched you walk away, but at least he knew now where he could find you multiple days out of the week.

After that night at your show, Jack found out as much as he could about you which had him staying up at least until two that morning. He found out that you were an independent artist that was born in Louisville, grew up in Nashville and was now residing there. You were two years older than him and he found out that you were a pisces like he was. You had released a few EP's and had also released your album Buckle Bunny which had been at number one on the charts for weeks.

Once Jack made it back in the studio, all eyes were on him as he sat down and Clay asked him if he was ready to start back up again.

“I just ran into Y/N. Literally. Like I almost knocked her over.”

“Wait! She's here!?” Clay excitedly asked because he definitely wanted to work on a song with you if the opportunity presented itself.

“She's always in studio B apparently since that's her favorite one she told me and I've come to the conclusion that she also hates me.”

“Wait, what? How do you figure that?” Urban asked as he looked at him confused.

“Apparently I was rude to her friend when her friend had met me before even though I never remember being rude to any fan, but that's what did it. And now she and her best friend have a vendetta against me.”

“Oh.”

“I asked, so you must be a fan, then? Since she knew I was from Louisville and she then proceeded to say that she used to be and that had obviously taken me by surprise and then she goes and tells me why. I legit thought she was joking at first.”

“Damn. Jack messed things up before anything really got started.”

“She simply keeps things short and sweet. I want to fix this with her so hopefully she gives me the opportunity to do that.”

“Hmm, from the way that these two interactions went, I highly doubt it.”

The studio session came and went as Jack didn't stay for much longer since he knew that he was going to be back early the next morning. As he was laying down and drifting off to sleep, the wheels in Jack’s head started turning as he was trying to think of a way to ease the tension between the two of you. After about thirty minutes of trying to come up with an idea, it finally came to him.

The other night he had watched an interview of you that he had come across while scrolling through Instagram and you said that your favorite flowers happened to be sunflowers and roses and you liked how they looked when they ended up being combined together. Starting tomorrow he was going to leave a bouquet of flowers for you in the studio and write a note attached to it hoping that you would see it.

Meanwhile it was three in the morning and you were wide awake while on facetime with your best friend Rory who had just gotten back from New York and you had yet to tell her what happened between you and Jack. It had now been a few days and you figured that now was a good time to tell her.

“RoRo.”

“Oh goodness. You only use that tone when it's something serious so go ahead and spit it out.”

“Guess who came to one of my shows a few weeks ago?”

“Ohh was it Method Man!? He is GORGEOUS.”

“Rory, he has CHILDREN as old as you.” You exclaimed while rolling your eyes, but she just shrugged.

“I'm just trying to find where the point is in your statement… oh, that's right. There isn't one.” She answered as you saw her starting to unpack her suitcases. She always did right after she got back from a trip and you told her that she was a psychopath for doing it.

“You are so damn annoying, but it was your favorite rapper.”

“Me and Cardi got beef. We not talking right now. Have you seen those ticket prices for her tour? I'll be in the parking lot.”

“NOT HER!”

“Then who!?”

“Jack Harlow.”

Rory's entire expression changed as she rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth at your response.

“Don't nobody care about his big headed ass anymore.”

“He came backstage and I met him and we can thank Carmen for that one. Completely caught me off guard.”

“Hmm…. I hope he wasn't rude to you. And why would she set you up like that!?”

“And I told him about his little run in with you and how I used to be a fan until that happened.”

“Girl no the FUCK you didn't…” Rory exclaimed while pausing to look at you from unpacking.

“I think he thought that I was joking with him at first, but he changed his tune quickly after that.”

“I cannot believe you told him that to his face.”

“Well what else was I supposed to do? Lie? It's not like I was mean about it.” You asked and she was still looking at you dumbfounded.

“Well no, but a connection like that would do you some good in the music industry. You're just starting out and the last thing that you need to be doing is making enemies.”

“Umm, excuse me ma'am? Whose side are you on?” You asked while munching on your sour patch kids.

“Always yours! Don't be stupid but I don't know, maybe you should give him a chance.”

“What the? What the hell have you done with my best friend? Any other time he's brought up, you're ready to burn him at the stake!”

“I'm still here! But I mean truth be told that was so long ago. I do still have a vendetta against him, but to be honest it wasn't totally his fault. Soooo, you could probably let him off the hook.”

“Rory…… I basically just told this man to fuck off and now you're trying to tell me it was a misunderstanding!?”

“I… well…. It wasn't really him, but more so who he was with. His manager, Neelam.”

“RORY WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THE ENTIRE STORY!?!? NOT YOU MAKING ME HATE THIS MAN ALL FOR IT NOT TO BE HIS FAULT!”

“I'M SORRY! MAYBE YOU TWO CAN START FRESH!”

“Fuck! Rory! Now he probably thinks I hate him!”

“We can fix this!”

“No, Ro. You are staying as far away from this situation as possible. We do record at the same studio so maybe I'll run into him again.”

“Ask him out on a date!”

“WHAT!? NO! I don't even know if he likes me like that and he probably doesn't, considering how I interacted with him.”

“You never know though. I think you should go for it.”

“It seems like every time I listen to you, I find myself in a bigger mess than before.”

“I'm getting better!”

All you did was give her the side eye as you continued to eat your sour patch kids.

Over the course of the next few weeks, every single Friday, there would be a bouquet of flowers waiting for you at the studio before you would start your session and you had no idea where they had been coming from or who had placed them there.

Obviously they knew you well since it was always a combination of your favorite flowers which were sunflowers and roses. Carmen came to the conclusion that you had a secret admirer and you just shook your head at her, but you definitely wanted to know who this person was. Surprisingly you hadn't crossed paths with Jack even though you had been hoping that you would. But you figured that when the time was right, it would happen. You wanted to make amends and hopefully get to know him, if he still wanted to that is.

It was close to four in the morning and everyone had already left when you found yourself gathering all your belongings so that you could head home. Once you made sure that you had everything, including your newest bouquet of flowers, you started walking towards the front of the building.

Once in the parking lot, you realized that your car was parked next to Jack’s, as he was leaning on it and typing quickly on his phone. You walked up to him and waited for him to notice you. When he didn't, you simply tapped him on the arm.

“Hey. Haven't seen you for a while.”

“Oh, hey. Yeah, it's been a minute. I've been doing some appearances here and there between being here so I guess we've been missing each other.” Jack said as he now gave you his full attention and placed his phone in his pocket.

“You usually leave this late?” He asked and you immediately shook your head no.

“No, but I had a few more things that I wanted to work on before I left so I stayed a little while longer. I could ask you the same thing.”

“I couldn't sleep, so I came for about two hours. I'm about to head out now.” Jack answered as he was looking at you holding the bouquet of flowers and hoping that you would mention the notes that he had been leaving for you.

“Um, I'm not tired and there's a 24 hour diner not too far away from here. Want to get breakfast with me?” You asked as you looked up at him hopefully.

Meanwhile Jack's heart rate had increased and he couldn't believe what was happening.

“I just feel like I didn't really give us a chance to be friends and I want to change that and get to know you for myself. If you want to, of course.” You added as Jack still hadn't said anything.

He simply unlocked his car and opened the passenger side door for you.

“Clay and Urban are going to be so jealous.” He said before laughing and helping you into his Jeep as you smiled at him.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concept #jack harlow fanfiction

[pixiesfz]

do u have to kill me w the jessie angst

yes.

game on j.f

plot: You and Jessie play eachother for the first warnings: angst, injury part four of this

warnings: angst, injury

You were now lined up in your respective teams, ready to go on and take your team photo before the game started.

“you ready?” Lauren asked you as you were told you were going to play the full 90 “Yeah” you answered her as you tried to pull the memory of your conversation with Christine away.

“Do your thing, we haven’t had a gem like you come across us in a while” she smiled and you smiled back “Thanks Lozza” You rested your head on her shoulder, ignoring the feeling of someone watching you.

When the game was about to start you walked over to your position next to Jessie “Ready?” she asked you as she tied her laces which you predicted was about the third time that she retied them today “Yeah you?” you asked the girl nodded her head “yep”.

The conversation was cold, you both knew it but unbeknownst to you Jessie was angry.

She was pissed.

You told her you didn’t love her, broke her heart and now you wanted her again.

You confused her and now she’s angry.

She’s angry that you’re here. Why? Couldn’t you have just stayed in London?

But the siren played before she could accidentally snap by just looking at you.

You knew how Jessie played and used it to your advantage, leading you to assist a goal in the twelfth minute. But you didn’t know that Jessie would start to play dirty in the 85th minute.

You had the ball, dribbling it down the wing before a leg hit your right ankle from the side causing you to yelp out in pain and jump meaning when you landed, you landed hard on your side, knocking the wind out of you.

Jessie got up in shock “y/n?” she asked and you rolled on your side “Can’t breathe” you stuttered before your teammates ran to you, Lauren who had been subbed on pushed Jessie away as she turned her head to try and get a good look at you.

“Jessie just leave” Lauren eventually said with a stern look as the Canadian was backed into another one of her teammates.

It took a second for you to regain your breath as the medics came to check on your ankle. “Is it broken?” you asked, a tear falling down your face in fear that you would be out for weeks” The medic crossed his head and you sighed in relief “sprained but you can’t play” he instructed and you nodded in agreement “you couldn’t pressure yourself into getting even more injured.

“Help me” you instructed to two girls next to you who helped you up. “get better y/n” they all said as you started to walk off with a limp, some people in the crowd applauding you as you walked down the tunnel.

You watched on the TV in the doctors room as the Portland thorns gained a goal by Jessie but she didn’t celebrate as her teammates piled on top of her. Portland thorns win 2 – 1.

After the game some of your teammates came in to check on you, Lauren promising to get you Pizza as she walked out.

But as you laid down on the table, the ice pack on your foot almost melted completely the door opened again.

You propped up on your elbows to see the woman who put you here in the first place. Bitterly you frowned “congrats on the win” you deadpanned and laid back down.

“I didn’t mean to tackle you that hard” Jessie said and you rolled your eyes propping yourself back up “Jessie I’ve been watching you play for three years, you know how to tackle and you know how to tackle clean” you told her and she sat down on a chair near the door “I’m sorry” was all she said again before silence took over.

“Why’d you do it?”

Jessie looked at you as you staired up to the ceiling “what?” she asked “Why’d you tackle me so hard?” you asked again “I don’t know” she stated “yes you do” you told her before lifting your body up so you’re both forced to look at each other.

“I-“ she started, running her hand through her showered hair which was slicked back, a hairstyle you would always run your fingers through to make her feel better after a rough game.

“spit it out” you demanded and the girl looked down “Why are you being mean?” she asked defensively “Oh I’m sorry are you the one who’s out for 6 weeks” you responded outraged that she’d even turn the situation around.

“Oh because you’re so innocent” Jessie shrugged and you raised your brows “excuse me?”

“Oh c’mon” Jessie groaned “I heard you talking to Christine before the game” she said and you looked down.

Oh shit.

“What do you mean ask me on a date?” she asked with anger as she stood up in anger “Jessie” you said softly “no” she cut you off “you said you didn’t love me, you broke me why?” she said, her emotions spilling over as a tear fell down your cheek, but you were mad as well, she injured you.

You propelled yourself off the seat, whimpering as your foot hit the ground “Y/n your injured stop-“ she said softly as you limped to her “No, you wanna know why I did what I did” you said, stepping closer as she stayed still.

You took her silence as a yes.

“I loved you Jessie, I really did that’s why” you stated and you saw her eyes gloss over “That makes no sense” she whispered and you rolled your eyes “You were unhappy at Chelsea, you deserved more and if you didn’t leave I- I would’ve been holding you back so I lied. I told you I didn’t love you because I loved you so much to let you go” You finished as you squeezed your face in pain by putting pressure on your ankle.

“You got it now?”

Jessie looked down at the floor in silence, your anxiety taking over you. “Jessie please say something” you begged “Jessie please-“

But you were cut off as her lips found yours...

#woso x reader #woso #woso soccer #woso community #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming #jeff

[mingsolo]

PAUSE + PLAY

wonwoo x reader (f) / g: meet cute, 90s au, fluff, strangers to lovers / wc: 4k / warnings: cursing, some nipple action, mingyu being a sl*t, / r: nc17

written for Now, That's 90s! collab, hosted by @beomcoups and I! ngI struggled not because I couldn't write this one, but because life is kicking my ass and I couldn't find the time to really sit and think through it... anyways it turned out pretty cute please read if you can <3

A drop of sweat rolled down from your forehead, you blew some air to your face but of course it was hot and it made you dizzy. “Is this thing even on?.” you shouted from the other corner of the shop, to your co-worker, Mingyu.

You stood under the AC trying to feel if there was actually cool air coming from it but you couldn’t feel but a weak wave of hot air over you. 

“Yeah, that thing is better off.” Mingyu shouted back, where he was lining up tapes in the kids section. “By the way, could you help me check the return box? There’s some tapes missing here, they should be there.” 

You waved out, going to the returns box at the entrance of the store. A few tapes were in, three Toy Story 2, one Tarzan and a copy of 10 Things I Hate About You along with two Armageddon at the bottom. You placed the movies on the counter as Mingyu was approaching you. “We need to rewind them first, all of them!” You say inspecting the tapes, “Geez, why do they never do it?.” 

Mingyu laughs and shakes his head. “The sign even says “Please” on it, right?.” He taps the hardcover of the vhs box, where “Please rewind before returning” signs reads on it.

“And it's so hot to be in the rewind room!.” you nag once more, taking the tapes with both arms and dragging your feet to the back of the store and rewind the tapes before someone comes looking for them. Mingyu returns to his previous spot on the kids section, not without laughing at you first. 

Despite the whole minute that it took you to get there, you are now placing the tapes into the machine, leaving the door open so some of the air could get in, the small and dark room feels suffocating just by being two steps inside it. In the speakers of the store, the faint sound of Genie In a Bottle plays on and you start humming, partly because you have the song stuck in your head thanks to Mingyu playing the cd over and over when he is on shift, and because it somehow helps the task be a little less tedious.

While on it, you hear the bells ringing meaning a customer has come to the store. You peek out to see a familiar tall figure enter, waving his way in walking directly towards the back where Mingyu was at the kids section.

“Hey!” you heard the guy saying until he disappeared from your line of sight. You tried to peek out more but it won’t be possible without you stepping out of the room, so you hurried up the process to get another glance before he’s out.

In the month you have been working there, you have seen this guy come in at least once a week. You were sure he was Mingyu’s friend as he always walked directly towards him or looked for him especially after picking up some tapes. The past times he had come with you on shift without Mingyu, you had the bad luck of always doing something like rewinding tapes or in the bathroom, never getting the chance to even greet him when he entered the store.

One thing for sure, hee was cute as hell. Cat like eyes and thin defined lips, huge black frames on his face, making it look smaller. And you noticed only by getting little glimpses of him, as he was always in a rush or something, never staying more than five minutes. You thought of asking Mingyu who he was but decided not to as you were still new in the store and even if you liked and had fun working with him, Mingyu has proven to be the teasing type, and he wouldn’t let you work in peace if you dare asking him about this other guy.

Just as you were cursing at Armageddon for rewinding so slowly, you heard them saying goodbyes and the chiming doorbell announcing he was out. 

With a sigh you rolled your eyes and finished your task without hurry, hoping the cat boy would come back soon and you were luckily enough to be on the counter to greet him. 

.

.

.

Today was a Monday, and the week promised to be a quiet one. Not many new releases came to the store yet so customers wandered a little bit before getting out, or just asking when would you stock Sleepy Hollow or why you had so few copies of The Sixth Sense. You tried your best to give every customer a smile at the beginning but after a month of getting the same questions over and over, you just shrugged and advised people to come back later, and maybe the previous customer had brought it back by then. 

Mingyu was way better with customers, both girls and guys. ‘I’ll get it ready and rewinded this afternoon for you’ he said with a wink to a middle aged lady, who shamelessly smiled and flirted with him while her kid smudged chocolate from the bar he was eating on a copy of Inspector Gadget.

“Great, now I have to clean that.” you glared at Mingyu as he saved the piece of paper with the woman’s number on his back pocket once she and the chocolate kid were gone. “I swear to God I’ve seen her come in with her husband.” you arch your eyebrows at him. 

“That doesn’t seem like a me problem.” He shot gun fingers at you and got back to his task on the counter, where a few other ladies waited for him.

You chuckled and started spraying windex on Mathew Broderick’s face covered in chocolate, laughing at how Mingyu flirted shamelessly with every single one of them, all at once, but they didn’t seem to mind. 

Once good ol’ Mathew’s face was clean you left the tape back on the shelf, when you heard the bell ring. “Y/n, can you help?” Mingyu hurried to tell you, he was now surrounded by the women as he showed them a copy of Between Your Legs animatedly. “This one is from our exclusive foreign section, so exotic! And the plot is fascinating…” He looked at the ceiling and the ladies followed.

You shook your head and got up from where you were squatting, seeing the tall figure of cat-boy coming through the door. He looked at the commotion on the counter and figured out Mingyu was busy at the moment. He hesitated for a second before turning back ready to head out when you sprinted towards him, shouting “HI!! WELCOME IN!” maybe a little too enthusiastically. 

“H-hi,” he said back, a little startled by your shouting. Mingyu also looked up to you for a moment, but he was quickly back to answering curious questions from his little fan club. “Uhm, I’ll be back later when-”

“No! Please, I know Mingyu usually helps you out but please tell me what can I do for you?,” you smiled with pressed lips and your voice two tones higher than how you usually speak, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing him in front of you confirmed your suspicions, he was stupidly handsome, freakingly hot even behind those thick square glasses. His hoodie smells like coffee and the cap he was wearing backwards made the earring on his left ear seem more dangly. 

“I really would prefer to wait for Mingyu…” 

“Nonsense!” you guided him towards a free counter next to where Mingyu and his harem were discussing Between Your Legs, quickly putting some space between you two before you would get inappropriately close and start sniffing his sweater, your eyes shining brightly as you spotted cat hairs on them. 

God he is so hot for a nerd!!!

“So, what can I do for you today, I’m Y/n by the way,” you smiled again and you could swear you creeped him out by the way he started sweating. It was hot as hell inside but still, his ears turned red and the tapes he was carrying under his arm were starting to slip from his grip. He quickly put them in the pocket of his hoodie, smiling awkwardly and glancing at Mingyu behind his frames. 

You glanced at Mingyu too, who began chuckling, losing for a moment his track on the plot of the movie he was explaining. 

“Are you going to return those?” you extended your hand but he stood still, tapes still packed into his hoodie. “No?,” you asked again. He opened his mouth briefly but smacked his lips loudly looking at the ceiling. 

He looked at Mingyu and his expression changed from mortified to annoyed. He bit his cheek and took a deep breath before taking out the tapes and laying them one on top of another before you. 

Night of the Giving Head, A Beautiful Behind, Yank my Doodle! It's a Dandy!, and Throbin Hood laid on the counter before you.

There was a few seconds of silence, only broken up by Mingyu’s suppressed wheeze. You cleared your throat lightly, taking the tapes and checking if they were rewinded. “Oh a rewinder, that’s unusual!” you chuckled dryly not really knowing how to break the wall of ice that suddenly appeared in front of you.

“I didn’t watch them,” He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “That’s why they are- anyway.” He sighed and stopped, releasing it seemed like he was making up excuses for not one in particular. 

“You don’t have to explain,” You tried to sound friendly and not make a big deal, but you had so many questions and this selection was the last thing you expected to see him with. “We are a judging free video store,” the words coming out mechanically as you remembered the training video Mingyu played for you once on your first day.

“Yeah…It’s not… Can we please get this over with quickly?,” He returned to his mortified expression and you nodded quickly annotating the returns on the logbook. “Thanks,” He smiled awkwardly at you before tapping the counter once, glancing quickly at Mingyu one more time before sprinting out.

“He’s going to murder me, but oh god, it was worth it!”

Mingyu was now smiling ear to ear, waving goodbye to the last girl that visited the shop for the day, her phone number written on his palm. “I got no more sticky notes left,” he said before sticking his hand out to her.

“Yeah that was… I didn’t even know we had these.” you were sweeping the floors as the store was about to close, keeping yourself busy for the rest of the day still thinking about the Night of The Giving Head cover inside your mind. “Wait, he’s your friend, does he only watch porn?.” 

Mingyu laughed loudly, helping you out by taking the trash bags out of the bins and emptied them in one big plastic bag. “Maybe, why do you ask?” he arched his eyebrows at you. 

“No reason, it was just- he doesn’t look like the porn addict type.” 

Mingyu laughed louder. “Wait till I tell him you think he’s a porn addict!” He collected the dust you were sweeping onto the plastic bag, making a knot and throwing it on his shoulders. 

“Wait! Why would you tell him that?!” 

“No reason…” he smirked, walking outside to take out the trash. 

.

.

.

The next week the store got busier than usual, so Mingyu and you barely got to chat with each other about cat-boy or anything really. He had also switched shifts to train a new employee, a younger guy, probably a highschooler, who he spent most of the time in the mornings, leaving you alone to take care of the closing shift. 

Saturday came quickly, and you were alone in the shop. Lights were almost all out, and you were finishing stocking some new tapes that came that afternoon, the last task before officially closing. 

Somehow the humid air was insufferable even by night time, so you were sweating bullets over the thick fabric of your uniform shirt. You couldn’t believe they made you wear this in this hot weather, but alas, you were transpiring and melting under it. 

As you finished putting the tapes on their respective shelfs, you walked towards the bathroom where you had a spare shirt, not before turning the volume of the radio a little, you played music a lot in the shop and the customers seemed to like your taste more like Mingyu’s.

Once there, humming to Bills Bills Bills, you were looking for your spare shirt when you noticed you it wasn’t there. “What the-?” you cursed under your breath, sure you had one hanging on the stall reserved for staff. One glance at the sweaty uniform shirt you just took off and you knew you won’t be wearing that again. “Come on, I already put roll-on….” you whined. Then you remembered there were a couple of uniform shirts in the lockers, maybe too big for you but that would do for today and you will return them tomorrow. 

And so you were signing,

Can you pay my telephone bills?, 

Can you pay my automo’ bills? 

If you did, maybe we could chill…. 

When suddenly the tall figure of cat-boy appeared in front of you right by the counter. He stared. And you stared back. And his eyes stayed on your face for a a few seconds, but they quickly drifted a little down, on your lace see through bra, nonetheless.

“What the fuck?!” you shouted, sprinting towards the locker room. 

“Im sorry! I knocked, and the lights were on…. I thought…” you could hear him speak but there was a high ringing pitch in your ears that made his voice fade away as you took one of the spare uniform shirts and slipped in over your head. “The fuck you needed to wear a see through one today, huh?!” you covered your face with both palms.

“I’m sorry… I better go…”

You heard footsteps and shouted “No!” back but when you were out you could only see his back walk out the door.

You blew raspberries, feeling insufferably hot under the hot fabric of the oversized uniform shirt, that covered you like a circus carp. “Too much for our second encounter, cat-boy.” 

.

.

.

The next day you got to the store a little early, trying to catch Mingyu before he left for the day, and to your surprise, he was waiting for you.

“A nipple piercing!” 

“Good afternoon to you too!” you sighed, walking towards the locker room with Mingyu’s tail wagging at your ankles. “And how could he notice that?! It was dark!” you threw your backpack at your locker, huffing and puffing, ignoring Mingyu’s curious eyes.

“I guess he was really paying attention,” he teased. You shot him a glare and he raised his arms signaling peace. “Hey, don’t be mad that he told me, I’m his best friend and well, he actually came looking for you, how could he know you liked walking around the store naked when you were on shift alone?” 

“I-wasn’t-naked.” you slapped the locker room shut. “Wait… he came looking out for me?”

Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows in response. 

“Tell me everything, or else.”

“He likes you, duh.” Mingyu moved toward his locker, pretending to roam for something but you knew there wasn’t anything there. “He has had his eyes on you, since the first day he saw you working here.”

“But why hasn't he talked to me? He always comes in and it’s gone in a second.” 

Mingyu clicked his tongue. “He had a bad break up two years ago, and honestly he’s pretty shy, maybe that’s why we are such good friends, we balance each other…” you crossed your arms signaling he was deviating from the topic. “... So he wasn’t sure how to approach you, he has been coming here asking me to be a wingman but I refused, I was trying to encourage him so I told him you were going to be alone yesterday.”

You sighed, walking out the locker room with Mingyu behind you, ready to get off.

“Want me to tell W-”

“NOO!” you shouted, making the couple of customers in the store turn their heads at you. “Don’t tell me his name, I want him to tell me when he finally comes and talks to me.”

Mingyu chuckled and nodded, messing your head a little in sign of encouragement. “Get him, tiger. I’ll pass the note out.” He winked and you shrugged as he walked out the store.

Needless to say, all the way to the evening your stomach was swirling inside you. You jumped a little every time the doorbell chimed, and it sank back to your stomach everytime cat-boy wasn’t the one entering.

It was almost seven and you were waving goodbye to the last customer of the day before you changed the sign from open to closed, when you heard the bell one more time. 

The couple of teens walked past cat-boy as he entered the store and they walked out. You could hear loud stomps inside your chest, and you were pretty sure they were so loud he could hear them too. You looked at the mirror wall to your left, and despite being a few feet away you could spot the newest shades of red adorning your face. 

As he walked closer, you smiled shyly, spotting the same color on him too.

“Hey,” he waved so tiny that you felt like your body was becoming butter, cause despite standing up, you felt melted, all over the floor. 

“Hi,” you replied back, not knowing what to say really. Dissociating a little from the awkwardness you focused on him. All of him. His fluffy hair, not hiding under a cap this time. The black thick frames. He was wearing a black sweater, a turtle neck one. Few noticeable white hairs on it. You remembered marshmallow, your cat, and smiled without noticing. 

“Y/n,?” you heard his voice crack, noticing you smiling.

“Sorry! Seeing the cat hair on your sweater reminded me of mine.”

“You have cats?” his eyes became a little bigger. “Me too!”

“Yeah.. I can tell by the cat hair,” you chuckled.

“Right…” he scratched the back of his head. “Well I have a couple.. A few.” 

“I love cats! I only have marshmallow because my landlord doesn’t let me have more, but one day I will!” you were glad you mentioned the cat hair cause this gave you a shot to talk more comfortably. “By the way, did Mingyu tell you my name?”

“I asked him, the first day I saw you here working.”

“Not fair, I didn't let him tell me yours.”

“Huh?” He arched his eyebrows, puzzled. 

“He told me you came looking for me yesterday… Sorry you find me like that, I swear I don’t usually walk around naked when I’m alone here…”

He laughed. “Mingyu told me you probably did.”

You scoffed. “He’s the whore not I.” 

“Can’t defend him from that,” He lowered his head a little, “Sorry I told him about your… well I was frantic after seeing you like that and ran straight to his dorm, I was too shocked I guess, I wasn’t trying to be a creep.”

“And what about the pornos? Night of the Giving Head, seriously?” 

“That was Mingyu! He dropped them at my dorm the night before telling me I should distract myself from being a coward and not talk to you…” He speaked fast and you were trying to follow up. “I swear I didn’t watched them, I tried, but they were too tacky”

“There’s tasteful porn?” you laughed.

“There should be… somewhere” he laughed back. 

“Bet the bastard wanted you to return them so I could catch you myself!” 

“He a hundred percent did.” 

There was a moment of silence after the laugh, and you felt like staring at the floor because looking at him was becoming addicting too quickly. 

“Want me to help you close? I want you to walk out with me for a while, maybe get some coffee?” He suddenly speaks, and you snap out of the mental image of you two sitting on your couch, a few cats around. 

“Uh- well I just need to take out the trash and I’m ready, I- would love that,” He smiles from ear to ear and stands straight, making you notice he’s like, really really tall. 

“I’ll help you with that, be ready when I come back!” He sprinted towards the entrance where the two plastic bags laid one beside the other and took them out. You run towards the bathroom as soon as he’s out, changing your ugly uniform shirt into your spare one, feeling relieved when you notice is there this time. After putting roll on, combing your hair a little and putting some perfume you walk out, finding him waiting for you near the entrance.

He asks if he can wash his hands and once that’s done you close up, and you start walking beside him to nowhere in particular. 

You suggest walking to your recent favorite spot, a part cafe, part flower shop near your apartment. Walking there you talk about your studies, the tedious but fun times at the video store, his job at the library (he was such a nerd!), his and your cat, about everything and nothing in particular, and time just flew by so quickly.

“This is so nice, I didn’t even notice the hour!” you say checking the casio watch on your wrist. And he does the same. 

“Let me walk you home, I would feel bad by letting you take a cab at this hour.”

“It’s not far away…” you object but he insists. “Fine, but just by the door, what if you are indeed a creep or something!” He pouts and gives you the stink eye. You laughed, delighted how quickly you became comfortable with each other.

Once at your door you ask him to give you his palm. “I learned this trick from our dear Gyu,” you say, taking out a sharpie pen from your backpack and writing your number on his palm. “There, call me as soon as you get home, I’m not done talking to you.”

You thanked him for the coffee and sprinted towards your complex door without letting him say anything else. 

A quarter to eleven, your phone starts ringing. 

Grabbing the cordless phone from its base and throwing yourself over your bed you answer. “Hello?,” 

“I was about to tell you my name and ask you on a proper date,” you heard his shaky voice from the other line. He must have literally run or sprinted towards his own apartment. “But you ran away.” 

You smiled, twirling your hair, eyes closed remembering every moment since you closed the video store a few hours ago.

“Y/n?,” 

“Not yet cat-boy, I want you to tell me only after you first kiss me.” A few moments of silence before he speaks again, you can’t see him but you know he’s smiling too.

“Deal, then I won’t be cat-boy much longer.”

@mingsolo please don't repost/translate to any sites.

#wonwoo fanfic #kvanity #svt x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #wonwoo fluff #now that's 90s collab #fic tag #my fic #oneshot #fluff

[milf-harrington]

i wrote this in like an hour so please forgive the quality but here's some gentle steddie set somewhere in the early 90's mentions of canonical violence and trauma, but otherwise just a gentle morning scene

5:30 am found Eddie Munson on the back porch steps, watching their liver spotted dalmatian patrol the fence-line with her usual level of seriousness. Ronnie moved like a spectre in the half-light, her edges all blurred and smudged until she stopped to sniff at a weed and became solid again.

The cherry of his cigarette flared bright on his inhale as he brought his knees further into his chest, feet crossed over one another like he could trap the warmth in if he just curled up tight enough. With autumn creeping closer, the mornings were getting crisp.

Luckily, his ears were warm under both his hair and the hood of his jumper,but his legs were prickly with goosebumps thanks to his habit of grabbing whatever was on the floor. This time it was Steve's basketball shorts, the one's that used to be trackpants until he'd taken scissors to them in the summer of '88.

They definitely weren't suited for cooler weather, but they were comfortable and Eddie kind of liked the distraction the chill brought. It was harder to get stuck in memories of snapping bones and dead motors and being eaten by bats when your toes were trying not to freeze off.

Eddie sniffled without tears and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, bringing his smoke back to his lips for another drag. His hands were shaking, but it had nothing to do with the weather.

He'd dreamed of Chrissy again.

The problem with an overactive imagination, is that it could always make your nightmares worse.

After weeks of stress free dreaming, he'd wound up back in his trailer last night, but this time he'd known Chrissy's favourite song. Playing it hadn't worked, and instead the bats had come pouring from her mouth like it was it's own gate. They'd swarmed him before he even had a chance to run, breaking free through the windows and those damn vents before tearing him and Hawkins apart.

He'd woken in his and Steve's bed, in the house they bought with their shady government money, sweat slicked and on fire. His skin was tight and itchy as he'd crept out of bed, tapping the dog awake to take her outside and grabbing his smokes from the dresser.

Ronnie chose then to drop her favoured rope at his feet, head ducked and eyes flitting from between him and the toy hopefully, tail wagging. Eddie secured his cigarette between his lips so he could distract her with a scratch behind her ears, and grabbed the toy with his free hand before she could react. She'd turn it into a game of tug-o-war if he wasn't careful, and it was impossible to ask her to drop it when it took both hands just to keep hold of the thing.

The rope sailed across the backyard in a high arc, and Ronnie almost tripped over her own paws in her haste to get to it.

A few more throws later, the sky was brighter and the back door opened with a familiar wheeze behind him.

Eddie didn't turn as he threw Ronnie's toy again, but listened to Steve quietly walk closer and settle down beside him with a soft grunt.

A moment later, his cigarette was stolen from right between his fingers, but when he turned to complain, Eddie was met with a steaming mug shaped like a bear. He took it with hands that were steadier than they'd been 10 minutes ago.

Steve, meanwhile, had tucked the cigarette between his own lips like he used too when he was trying to seem cool and impressive (before they got their shit together), and unfolded the blanket he'd brought out with him.

It settled over both of their shoulders while Eddie sipped his coffee, feeling it's journey all the way down to his stomach. He watched Ronnie register Steve's presence and come bounding over.

She stopped in front of them with the rope toy swinging from her mouth, tail picking up enough speed to move her hips with it when Steve signaled for her to drop it.

Steve generally wasn't verbal this early in the morning, preferring to sign until the world felt awake enough for voices. Luckily their dog was deaf too, even if she was cheeky about ignoring signals by pretending not to see them.

Finally, Ronnie relented, dropping the rope between Steve's ridiculous old-man slippers as he passed the cigarette back to Eddie. She graciously accepted her vigorous head scratches as reward.

Eddie huffed a laugh and tapped off the excess ash, taking another drag and waiting until the dog was tearing off after her toy to pass it back to Steve.

He accepted the smoke with a smile and didn't ask why Eddie was awake so early, or why he hadn't bothered to dress warmer. Just made sure the blanket was wrapped around him properly, and pressed a kiss to his temple over the top of his hood.

Eddie sighed from somewhere deep and tired inside him and let his head drop onto Steve's shoulder, feeling it drop as he exhaled smoke towards the rising sun.

#hoh steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #i really want a dalmatian but i'm currently in no position to get one so i gave steddie one instead #im imagining that they adopted her from shelter sometime after vecna is defeated #eddie wanted to name her something metal but steve didn't want her to have a weird name so they compromised on 'ronnie' #which is cute and also the name of dio's lead singer #steddie fluff #sort of #domestic steddie #my writing

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire//biker!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//Part 11

18+Only, pls no minors, jealous!Eddie, biker!Steve, possessiveness, mention of violence, alcohol consumption, mention of sex, rich people being rich, celebrity sighting, reader wears a dress and heels (for the sake of this story, please pretend that designers made dresses for all sizes in the 90's), dirty deeds, mention of an abusive relationship, being in love. Word count: 8.4k

Summary: As Eddie falls for you more and more, his jealousy comes to the surface. You have a scare as something reminds you of a bad relationship from your past, and you go out to dinner with a potential client, forcing Eddie to profess his feelings as he struggles with the fear of losing you. Steve is offered a new job opportunity that sounds almost too good to be true.

Series Masterlist

A/N: It's been a long time coming 🙃 I am worried that writing the next chapter might get me pregnant. Your comments/messages about this story mean everything to me, and this story wouldn't even exist without the love you've shown it. Thank you, I love you.

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I'm on Fire Part 11: No Ordinary Love

-------

Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer while you were working that night to make the non-verbal announcement that you were his girl to anyone who might not know it yet, and you took your break so he could fill you in on some of the drama with Steve. He sucked down two cigarettes in the span of 15 minutes, and you could tell that the stress was getting to him.

“Poor Robin,” your eyes glazed over a bit as you stared at the ground, your heart hurting. “She must be a wreck.”

Eddie nodded as he blew smoke to the side. “This isn’t even about Oliver, that greedy bitch just wants more money.”

You searched his face, trying to understand. “You mean, she doesn’t want Oliver in her life?”

Eddie shot the corners of his mouth down in a frown as he flicked ash to the pavement. “Hell no. Steve basically has to pay her off every now and then just so she will leave them alone,” and then Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the empty space in front of him. “No one is taking Oliver away, I can promise you that.”

Eddie stepped back to look you up and down, licking his lips, bucking his chin. “Has anyone tried to hit on you tonight?”

“Eddie…” you sighed and rolled your eyes a little.

“I’m serious,” he finished his cig and threw it to the ground. “I don’t want any of these fuckers thinking they can touch you.”

“Baby,” you wrapped your arms around him and put your head to his chest. “It’s just a job, and no one gets to touch me but you.”

“That’s fucking right,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss you. You still didn’t know that Charlene was the reason you lost the job you loved as a gallery director, and keeping that from you continued to gnaw at him.

He grabbed your chin to force your gaze up to meet his. “I’m dead serious, babe. It’s a respect thing. If anyone crosses a line with you in here, I’ll find out about it, and I’ll break their fucking hand.”

He wasn’t trying to scare you, personally, but his tone was intense, and a drastic change to how he normally spoke to you.

“I know, baby,” you answered in a whisper, suddenly feeling a damp heat between your thighs at his possessiveness over you.

The outfit you were wearing must’ve been turning him on too, because he groaned against your mouth, pulling your hips against his, not caring that the friction shot a ripple of pain into his stab wound.

“You’re gonna make me go back into work all turned on, babe,” you breathed between kisses. You slipped your hands around his ribs under the warmth of his leather.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, fingers digging into your thighs. “I’m about to take you right here. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You pulled back to search his face, your brows knitting together. “Yeah, why have we been waiting?”

Eddie picked up the back of your skirt so that his middle finger could rub your slit over your underwear while he palmed your ass and it made you whimper. “I wanted it to be...special, I guess,” he admitted, brushing your lips with his, his finger teasing the soft skin at your underwear line.

“You just got stabbed, baby. I don’t want you to---”

“Shhhhhhh,” he said, rubbing his nose against yours. “It’s not my first stab wound baby, and it won’t be my last.”

“Wait,” you put your hand on his chest. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”

Just then the door to the bar flew open with a bang, like someone had kicked it, Sex on Wheelz by My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult blasting into the alleyway, and Eddie did quick work of moving in front of you, blocking your raised skirt from view while you adjusted yourself, and he was glaring at whoever it was.

Jackie stepped out with a Pall Mall between her lips, and paused to shoot the two of you a curious look, wiggling her brows. “What’s been going on out here, kids? None of that hanky panky, I hope.”

----------

A day later, there was a very familiar hunter green SUV parked outside of your place when you rolled around the corner to park in the driveway after some grocery shopping. It as a fairly popular model, and so you didn’t think much of it until you saw that the plates were from Michigan---the state you’d lived in until a year ago when you finally accepted Katie’s invitation to move in with her.

A freezing cold flush of blood burst through your veins as you sat in your car, afraid to get out.

The fear that your ex-fiance Craig would find you and come knocking on your door one day never left you, but your defenses had been lowering as you got comfortable in Hawkins; maybe you’d gotten too comfortable. Maybe you hadn’t covered your tracks enough and someone from your past had told him where you were.

Everything you’d been through in the past few weeks, and now this? You were actually too petrified to move, thinking maybe it was better to start your car up and drive away. But, if he knew where you lived, you would never be free of him. You’d have to get another restraining order, which never did any good anyway. You might even have to move again.

Tears threatened behind your eyes, as adrenaline pumped through you, but then you glanced up and saw Katie come around the corner of the house with an older woman in a floral pantsuit and a bob of gray hair.

Katie paused, and bent down to give you a questioning look, wondering why you were still sitting in your car, lurking. You watched the gray haired woman walk over to the SUV and unlock it with her key, as a gust of stale air escaped your chest with a hiss.

The hunter green SUV belonged to another teacher from the school, Ms. Olsen, and later on, once you were in the house, you told Katie about your moment of panic.

“God,” she was perched on the arm of the sofa. “You really think that piece of shit would go through that much trouble to find you? And then drive all the way out here?”

“In a heartbeat,” you said, pressing your dry lips together. “But, as far as Craig knows, I moved to Oregon to live near my mom, so Hawkins would be completely off his radar. I hope so, anyway.”

Katie stood up. “Well, thankfully it was just a scare. Holy shit, by the look on your face I thought you caught Eddie with another girl again or something.”

You huffed a heavy breath as you dropped your bag onto the side table. “Yeah, I still have the photos. Maybe we should have them framed or something. To remember the good ol’ times.”

“I’m taking Robin out for happy hour to try and get her mind off of things,” Katie called to you as she opened the refrigerator and bent in to grab a soda. She was on her lunch break and on her way back to the school. “Do you want to come with? Just us girls? Steve has Ollie at the tattoo shop with him.”

You declined the offer only because you still needed to call John Gregson, and you wanted to catch him during office hours.

It took a while to get beeped through to his personal secretary, but when she finally took your call, she told you that Mr. Gregson was out of the office, but that she would get a message to him for you. Her snobby tone gave you the feeling that she was going to throw your message in the trash the second you hung up, but not five minutes later---he called you back.

“Hey there,” he beamed. You could hear him smiling through the phone. “I’m sorry my secretary made you wait. I told her to patch you through to my personal line next time.”

“I’m surprised you even remembered my name,” you were standing at the counter in front of a pad of paper with a pen in your hand just in case you needed to write anything down.

You’d be lying if you said the first few minutes of the conversation were completely innocent and did not dabble in flirtation. Your loyalty to Eddie was deep, but kindling a bit of a friendship with John was a necessary evil for the time being. A couple thousand dollars for a painting and a chance to let Charlene know you had tricks too? Priceless.

While he was letting you know what size canvas he wanted and some prominent color choices, you drifted off a bit, wondering if John knew about Charlene’s affair. Affairs, plural? You did not get the sense that he was at all lacking in cognitive function, and since he was such a successful business man, you assumed he could read people pretty well.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

He had to repeat it because your mind had gone rogue.

“Dinner? Tonight?” He continued. “With me.”

You had zero romantic feelings for John—your heart was very much engaged elsewhere---so you could shrug it off as a platonic business deal. But, you also couldn’t help but wonder how your newly christened boyfriend Eddie would feel about it. Appearances aside, he had to understand that, much like the guys you were nice to at the Velvet Hammer---it was just a job. Plus, John was very openly married, and attempting a blatant affair with you wouldn’t be a bright move.

Still, it felt like he was asking you on date.

“I could come to your office tomorrow? I’m free all day.” You offered.

“I won’t be in the office tomorrow, I’m flying to Boston for the rest of the week, but I could pick you up later today around 7:00?” He sounded humble, but at the same time very sure of himself. “You see, there is this new restaurant on the lake with a collection of artwork I’d think you’d enjoy. We could talk about the commission there in a more relaxed setting.”

You swallowed. He was very persuasive, you’d give him that. You knew the exact restaurant he was talking about; Sakura Black was owned by a movie star who had a vacation home in town. It was strictly reservation only and you’d always wanted to see what it was like on the inside. There was a private airport nearby and helicopter pad on the roof for the wealthy elite to pop over from the city for dinner to enjoy “small town life”.

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a few seconds, doodling frantic circles all over the pad of paper with your pen, and then you accepted.

“Well, you just made my day,” John told you.

After you hung up the phone, your hand stayed on the receiver, and you said, “fuck,” under your breath.

--------

“What do you mean he asked you out to dinner? You mean, like a date?” Eddie asked gruffly.

Eddie was in his coveralls with an over sized wrench in his hand with grease smeared across his cheek and thighs. You showed up at the garage about an hour after you’d talked to John, feeling like this was a conversation that needed to happen in person.

He frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk in the office. His new part time helper Dana had just left and Wayne was away having one of his chemo treatments. He was leaning away from you, teeth grinding, jaw muscles flexing, as he absorbed the news. He had been damn near giddy when he saw you park and walk over; eagerly pulling your mouth to his as a smile stretched his lips. “Damn, I’ve missed my girl,” he’d murmured as he nuzzled your nose, and then the three other mechanics behind him started whistling and shouting, “get a room!” To which Eddie grabbed your hand and flipped them off.

“It’s not a romantic date, baby. He just wants to talk about this commission I’m going to do for him,” you soothed, giving him space as you rested your shoulder against the green metal door.

“Sure he does,” Eddie chided. But then he sucked his teeth and tried to cool the hot emotions that were bubbling up. “What did you say his name was?”

This was the even trickier part.

You sighed and rubbed your fingers across your forehead before you met his gaze again. “His name is John. John Gregson.”

Eddie snorted and turned on his heel, rubbing his hands down his face. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, babe. Please tell me you’re joking?” After keeping his back to you for a bit, shoulders tight, he finally turned around to face you and tapped the desk with his knuckle as he spoke. “You know who he is, right? Who he’s married to?”

You nodded as you gazed at the scuffed toes of his boots and the frayed ends of his coveralls where they sat at his laces.

Eddie gave a few slow blinks, spreading his fingers on the desk to brace himself as he leaned. “I don’t feel good about this, babe. I don’t want you alone with this guy.”

You did your best to explain the situation to him, going all the way back to when John purchased some art from an outdoor festival you participated in a few years ago, to how he recognized you at the Velvet Hammer, and then Steve giving you his card to hopefully bring some money your way.

Eddie waited, but his expression of doubt stayed the same. “Listen,” he ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and came a bit closer to you, crossing his arms again. “I appreciate that you told me. But you don’t know these people, baby. They are rich and they are mean. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want at the end of the day. John might seem like a decent dude, but I’d bet money that he’s no different.”

As Eddie said it, he knew there was a lot of his ego involved in trying to talk you out of it. It was his fault you lost the job as a gallery director—a job that you loved---and he wondered if he was being selfish in trying to keep you from whatever amount of money you could get from what’s his name. The last thing he wanted to do was push you away, and if anything could, it would be his jealousy. He was sure it had pushed people away in the past.

Eddie bowed his head, and you moved into his orbit, tugging his crossed arms down so he would lower them and let you in. “I’m fucking filthy, baby,” he said as you put your head to his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He placed his cheek on the top of your head. You nuzzled him, inhaling the scent of car exhaust and motor oil and the earthy soft undertones of his warm skin.

“Oh, god, don’t I know it,” you teased, pinching a handful of his ass.

He barked a low laugh despite himself and tightened his arms around you. “You make me this way.”

You swayed there together for a bit before he huffed out a heavy breath. “So, what time is your date?” He bit out the word ‘date’ so hard, his jaw clicked.

You pushed off of him, exasperated, and slightly offended. “Baby, it’s not a date. He doesn’t mean anything to me, it’s just like a…business thing. You know how much I love---”

But then the rest of it kind of choked in your throat, and you doubted yourself, and you clamped your mouth shut to keep any more from escaping. You didn’t doubt your feelings for him, but you doubted that blurting it out in that moment was the right thing to do.

Both of you were simultaneously paranoid that you’d scare the other one off by being too blunt about your feelings. Why? Because any time you had confessed your feelings to someone in the past, they either ruined your life or left you; there was no happy medium.

“Yeah? You love what?” Eddie waited, searching your face, interlacing his fingers with yours, anticipation burning in his chest.

You started to fidget under his intense gaze, shifting your attention around the room. “I-I love your stupid face.”

He squeezed your hand, and leaned in to press his lips flush against your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. “Ditto, babe.”

--------

Eddie was not smiling when you left the garage. You told him all of the details, including what time you were being picked up, the name of the restaurant (he rolled his eyes), and you told him you’d call the second you got home.

“Or, call me from the restaurant if he gets handsy or some stupid shit,” he added with a frown. “It would be my pleasure to go to jail for bouncing that clown into next week.”

You did all you could to comfort him, but at the end of the day, he was a grown man who needed to understand that you were excited for not only the money, but for the opportunity to be doing what you loved again. You felt like you’d lost your spark lately and you were anxious to get it back.

It was around 4 o’clock when you pulled up to the curb at the chocolate brown duplex with white trim that you shared with Katie. From behind the wheel, you spotted what looked like a big, flat white box with a string tied in a bow at the top. As you got closer, with your keys and bag in your hand, you realized there was a fancy note card on it addressed to you.

You put it on the island in the kitchen and started at it while your tongue slid across your teeth in contemplation. The store on the tag was from a French boutique in Chicago that you had never heard of in your life.

The inside of the card said: “I forgot to ask if you had something casual but elegant for tonight. See you at 7:00 -- J.”

Once you opened the lid of the box and pulled the tissue paper back, you let out a small gasp at the Dolce & Gabbana label staring you in the face. It was simple black dress with red lining, knee length but with a high slit up the leg, strapless, and there was a black choker and heels to match.

You hated to admit it, but perhaps Eddie’s read on John had been a tad on-the-nose.

--------

“Whoa there Julia Roberts,” Katie joked as you walked out to the living room at 6:45, trying to steady yourself on your new heels. “Is Richard Gere picking you up or what?”

Robin was there too and she spun around on the couch to whistle at you. “Good god, woman, Eddie should see you now. He’d blow a gasket.”

Under your breath you responded, “maybe, but not for the reason you’d think.”

Katie rested her hip on the back of the couch and combed her fingers through Robin’s hair as she raised her eyebrow at you. “Where are you going looking like a stick of dynamite? You look too nice for the Hammer.”

You opened your clutch to make sure you had the necessities. “I’m going to dinner with a potential client who wants to commission a painting,” you were withholding the bigger truth because you wanted to avoid getting into a discussion about it. “It’s not a big deal, I should be home in a few hours.”

Robin and Katie exchanged a look.

They did make sure to peak through the blinds when your ride arrived, though, and saw that it wasn’t just any old ride: it was a sleek, black Rolls-Royce, complete with chauffeur, and the man who got out to open the door for you was unarguably handsome and dapper. Salt n’ Pepper hair that was thick and a little wavy on top, tan skin, and what appeared to be an expensive, tailored suit. Once you had slipped into your seat behind the dark tinted windows, the man actually glanced up and caught the two girls watching, to which he gave a charming smile and a wave.

“THAT’S the client she’s going to dinner with?” Katie balked, realizing there was a lot you weren’t telling her. “He looks like Robert fucking Redford.”

“Oh, shit,” Robin whispered, her chin on Katie’s shoulder. “I think I know who that is. I can’t remember his name, but his face is always in the paper. Pretty sure he owns most of this town.”

You braced your hands on the smooth leather seat on either side of your hips as John found his place next to you and offered you a glass of champagne. “Or sparkling water, or gin, if you prefer?”

“Champagne sounds great,” you said with a quiver on your lips. You were too intimidated to admit you’d never been in a Rolls-Royce before, or any car worth its value.

He popped the cork and poured you a glass flute, his eyes covertly flashing to your legs as he worked. “I’m happy to see the dress fit. It looks like it was made for you.”

You cleared your throat as he passed your beverage over. “I’m nervous to spill on it. I think it costs more than my car.”

John smiled against the rim of his glass as he spoke. “If anything happens to it, we’ll just buy you another one,” he assured you with a wink.

----------

Around the same time you found the dress on your porch earlier that day, Steve picked up the phone at the shop after three rings, just before the machine was about to get it. He was in the middle of working on matching ankle tattoos for two sisters, and Oliver was at his special kid-sized plastic desk in the corner scrawling with crayons in a coloring book. Molly, the tattoo artist he rented a chair from was deeply absorbed in getting the lines in for a huge back piece on a client and she begged him to get it while Feel the Pain by Dinosaur Jr played in the background over the buzzing of a tattoo gun.

“Cutthroat Tattoo, this’s Steve,” his voice was a bit gruff, but he didn’t mean for it to be. It had been nonstop all day and the phone was ringing off the hook.

“You’re a hard man to track down,” the confident woman on the other end cooed. “Do you have a second? Is this a bad time?”

“Yeah, it is a bad time. Who’s this?” Steve frowned, running his thumb along the edge of the counter.

“I’m the one who bailed you out of jail,” she answered, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Steve frowned even harder, walking further away from the customers so that he as at the corner of the desk against the wall. His mind was racing because he didn’t recognize the voice. Was it someone he fucked recently and forgot about? In that case, it was the least he could do to remember her name, but nothing was coming to him.

“Sweetheart, I’d love to thank you properly, but I still have no idea who you are,” he braced his hand high on the wall, his back muscles and tattoos visible under his thin wife beater. “Can I have a clue?”

She continued to ignore his question. “If you’re interested I might have a job for you. It pays well, and it will only be a couple hours out of your day.”

He dropped his hand from the wall and slipped it into his arm pit. “How much is ‘well’?”

She told him it would be a couple grand for a few hours, and he almost said yes before he even asked what the job even was.

“What’s the catch, baby?” He was still under the assumption that this was someone he had carnal knowledge of, and not a complete stranger. “Cause my days of being a high paid assassin are behind me.”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” she purred. “It’s just that I’m going to an event in a couple days and I need to hire a body guard to be my escort.”

Steve scoffed at the simplicity of what she was asking. “That’s all? Sweetheart, I’m your man.”

“I knew you were the right man for the job,” she praised.

“Hey,” he turned to give the woman in his chair a silent wink and thumbs up to let her know he’d be right there. “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m good with faces, darlin’, but voices? Not so much.”

“You can call me Char,” she told him, giving him her phone number. He took the cap off a pen with his teeth and ripped out a page from the phone book to write it down. “Give me a call when you’re done and we can work out the details.”

Char...Char...Steve’s mind raced with who that might be. But, damn all he could think of was how nice it would be to get his hands on that money. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for a while now, and it would be nice to put a little extra in the bank so he could breathe for a fucking second. Body guard gigs were a piece of cake, and hell, if she wanted to pay him to have sex with her he might even agree to that as well, depending on what she was offering. Now, with Tina sniffing around again, he was on edge every second, and not sure if she really wanted to be in Oliver’s life, in which case he’d need to pay out the ass to hire a lawyer, or if she just wanted to squeeze his balls for more dough.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Eddie how mysterious women were stumbling over themselves to pay his bail and his bills.

--------

John made small talk with you as the driver, who was behind a black tinted partition, maneuvered the car up through the woods toward the lake. You passed a few MC members cruising along with the wind in their faces, and your heart stuck in your throat, hoping one of them were Eddie. Even Steve or Thumper would’ve been a welcome sight in that moment.

John was a gentleman, from what you could tell, and he was doing everything he could to make you comfortable, but you still felt terribly out of place; both in body and soul. To make matters worse, you were already missing Eddie. You realized that you could’ve gone to be with him that night instead, and the weight of your choice made your heart heavy. The song No Ordinary Love by Sade dripped softly from the speaker near your leg and it drowned out John’s voice for a few seconds as you thought about the beautiful, loving man you’d left waiting for you at home.

A magic, purple dusk exploded over the lake, between the trees as John came around to open your door and extend his hand for you to take.

“I don’t think I said it yet,” the side of his mouth lifted in a grin. He smelled like spices and expensive, Italian leather. “But you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

You rolled your shoulders and did the best to put all of your weight on the balls of your feet as you adjusted to the heels. He extended the crook of his arm to you and you took it, feeling like you were on some strange prom date.

Ahead of you was a walkway that led through a Japanese-style garden with a large Koi pond, on the way to a long, wide ranch-style building with gold lanterns dangling from the roof.

Sakura Black was known for it’s Japanese and Asian fusion cuisine. You’d only read about it in magazines, of course, and so it was a treat to see it all up close.

There was tight security from the time your chauffeur let you out at the curb to where you entered the building. A handful of muscular guys whose shoulders looked too big for their suit jackets, and whose necks were wider than their heads, talked to each other through ear pieces with dramatically serious faces, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were with the FBI or Secret Service. John didn’t even have to acknowledge them; they instantly ushered him through because they clearly recognized him.

You knew it was no secret that John was married, and you wondered what people thought your relationship was with him. Did they think you were one of his mistresses? Or was it a regular occurrence for him to bring young women there for dinner to talk over business deals? You honestly had no idea if you looked like a lucky girl or a fool to them.

Inside, the décor was warm tones and sharp edges; industrial design, with a pristine air of perfection and minimalism. You were a bit shocked when you realized that it made you miss the chaotic, clammy, nicotine saturated air of the Velvet Hammer.

The host with the wire rimmed glasses saw you and John coming, and got a bit flustered, before he stole himself for a proper greeting. “Your table is waiting, Mr. Gregson,” he extended his arm, encouraging you both to follow him down three steps to the main dining floor. There were solid windows along the back wall for a view of the lake at dusk, and the place was dimly lit, almost too dim for you to see if there were any celebrities in the crowd as you tried to scan around without moving your head. Soft murmuring voices heard over metal clinking on ceramic as waiters brought flaming dishes out on rolling carts.

John’s table was down close to one of the windows; there were two tealights burning in glass bubbles, and a bottle of red wine at the ready. You slipped free of John’s arm so that the host could pull your chair out for you, and you just so happened to move back two steps too many and you bumped into someone.

You both turned around at the same time to gush your apologies, and that was when you realized that the person you’d just smacked into was, in fact, the actor Richard Gere himself.

--------

Eddie was restless. He took a shower, and then nearly wore a hole in the floor from pacing.

He should’ve told you he didn’t want you to go. He should’ve told you...how he felt about you. God, was it too late? What if you realized that having an affair with with a rich dude was just what you needed? It would take away all of your stress, and you could stop working your ass off at the Velvet Hammer. It would help your art career, and you’d never have to worry about money. Surely, John Gregson was intelligent, well-spoken, successful—the type of man you deserved to be with. Since you met Eddie, your life had fallen into chaos and damn near poverty. In fact, the more he thought about it, what the hell did you even seen in him anyway?

He fully intended to wait by the phone until you called, but the minutes felt like hours, and he decided to take a ride over to Steve’s house for some company. Steve was still at the shop, but Robin had just arrived home after picking up Oliver, and it was a much needed distraction from his intrusive thoughts.

He read Oliver a bedtime story (it was coincidentally also one of his favorites: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs) while Robin put away the dishes, and then the two adults had a beer out on the patio under dim yellow light where insects tapped and buzzed.

One sip and Robin sat up in her chair, regarding him with wide eyes. “Hold on, I almost forgot to tell you how hot your woman looked tonight. Wowza!”

Eddie’s beer paused halfway to his mouth and his smile dropped.

Robin licked her bottom teeth as she grinned, bending her knee to put her foot on the chair. “She was gorgeous, but also very sophisticated and elegant. Total show-stopper. You would’ve been on your knees.”

Eddie was gripping his beer can so tight, he crushed it a bit, forcing liquid to spurt out of the top.

“Yeah, how long ago was that?” Eddie asked in a mumble.

“How long was what? When I saw your girl? Um, maybe an hour ago. I left right after to pick Ollie up.”

Robin started talking about the whole mess with Tina, and a few minutes in, Eddie got to his feet. “I gotta go, Rob. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for the beer.”

“You have to go...right now? Seriously dude?” She balked. But Eddie was already grabbing his leather and taking long strides around the house to where he parked the chopper.

Robin sighed heavily into the mouth of her beer just before taking a few large gulps.

--------

Richard Gere reached out and put his palm on your elbow. “Are you okay? I didn’t meant to bulldoze into you like that.”

You were understandably speechless for a moment, mouth agape, as you looked from his face to the other people at his table. A part of you hoped to see Cindy Crawford there, but then you remembered they’d been divorced for a couple years. There were two other people with him: an older gentleman you did not recognize, and a woman who could’ve very well been a runway model.

You were about to speak when John came up behind you, resting his hand at your lower back. “Richard,” John greeted as they both shook hands. They knew each other? John introduced you. “This is that talented painter I was telling you about. I’m commissioning a piece for our lake house.”

Richard regarded you with invested interested. “A-ha, that’s right. I’d love to see your work. Do you have a card?”

“I don’t have one with me, but I---” you stammered, disbelief clouding your cognitive functions.

John’s hand made circles on your back as he spoke. “I’ll have my secretary send over her information tomorrow,” he told Richard.

Once the two of you were finally scooting into your table, John raised his eyebrow. “Richard’s a good friend, and an avid art collector. He loves finding new talent, that’s why I told him about you.”

Your heart raced as you put your napkin in your lap. Your seat faced the entrance where you’d just come in, and the side of Richard. He turned and winked at you as he put his hand onto the leg of the supermodel next to him.

The menu items didn’t have any prices on them, except for the wine list which had some going for hundreds of dollars. It made you gulp. You could probably live for a month on what these people were paying for one dinner.

“Is it okay if I order for you?” John asked, small, tortoise shell readers as the end of his nose. You were more than grateful for that suggestion, and he didn’t seem at all bothered when you said you were a vegetarian. Your waiter poured the wine, John started with appetizers, and the two of you proceeded to stick to the topic of business, and what he was hoping for in the artwork for his den.

It started to be less and less like a date and more like dinner with a friend, which made you feel a whole lot better about everything. You wondered what the story was between John and Charlene: how they met, how they fell in love, how they grew so far apart. There was probably someone there in the crowd who would see the two of you together and report back to Charlene. Would she even care?

Also, you really missed Eddie. You watched John hold his hands out in front of him, explaining a piece of art he bought while he was in Italy, with the romantic lake as a backdrop, and all you could think about was how you’d rather be kissing Eddie in the alley behind the Velvet Hammer, surrounded by the smell of rotting trash.

John expressly told the waiter to let the chef know which substitutions they required for your dietary needs, and he ordered another bottle of wine. You were watching him pour it when, several tables down, you spotted a waiter who you swore was your previous work colleague, Jeff. Just then, the guy with the golden blonde hair locked eyes with you at the same time and a wild look flashed across his face before he regained his composure and finished taking the order at the table he was at.

“Excuse me for just a moment?” You said to John as you got up from the table and placed your napkin on your seat. “I need to….” what was the phrase again? You couldn’t tell him you needed to use the toilet, that was vulgar. “...to go to the powder room. I’ll be right back.”

You made your way along the main floor and then up the steps, making eye contact with Jeff and motioning covertly for him to follow you. Jeff jerked his head, motioning you in the other direction, down between the bar and the kitchen. You both did good work of keeping your composure until you were hidden and out of ear shot.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jeff blurted, bouncing on the balls of his feet a bit.

“Um, I was about to ask you the same thing? Hello? You quit the gallery?” You exchanged a hug as you talked.

“Yeah, fuck that place,” Jeff adjusted the front of his shirt. “Besides you would not believe the celebrity sightings here. I’m gonna get swept off my feet soon.”

“Yeah no kidding,” you agreed in a whisper. “Richard Gere is basically sitting at our table.”

You were both speed-talking because neither one had much time.

“Who is that hot daddy you’re with?” Jeff asked.

“You’ll never believe it.”

“Try me?”

“It’s Charlene Gregson’s husband,” you said, exposing your lower teeth in a cringe.

Jeff made his mouth into an exaggerated “O” shape. “Girl, you have a lot of explaining to do. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

One of the other servers walked by and you hugged again, agreeing adamantly to meet up for cocktails as you wiggled fingers at each other to say farewell. You came up into the reception area, about to turn and make your way back down to the restaurant, when a deep voice made you freeze in your tracks.

“Hey.” It was Eddie.

---------

Eddie didn’t have a plan, he was just going. His hair flew in the wind, his hands twisting high up on the ape hanger handlebars, thundering along the winding mountain road like the devil was on his heels.

Sure, the restaurant you were at had tight security, but half of them were buddies of his. Plus, he wouldn’t have given a shit if he had to take them all on. In fact, bashing some heads in would’ve felt pretty fucking good in that moment.

He told Mick and Angus at the gate that he was there to cover for one of the guys, and they let him him right in; engine revving as the chopper crawled up the driveway and found a place right next to a red Ferrari. He ran his hand through his hair, rings clicking together as he swung his leg off the bike, adjusting his Coffin Kings leather cut over his plain white tee, exposing the tattoos from his neck to fingers. The black jeans he had on did not have holes in them but still—he was vastly under dressed for this crowd. God, he secretly hoped someone had the guts to try and throw him out; that would be fun.

He walked up to Rodney—a big dude with most of his dark hair in a buzz cut, but for the 5 inch long rat tail at the back---and offered him a smoke. Rodney had to wear his shirt buttoned at the collar and at his wrists to hide all of his tattoos. There were two other square-head dudes in suits positioned at the door, but Eddie didn’t know them.

He pointed his chin at the two in question, exhaling smoke. “Will I get any trouble from those two if I go in?”

Rodney wiped his nose with his thumb as his cheeks caved in for another drag. “Nah, they don’t mess with the Kings, man. They’re just gym bros. Say ‘boo’ and they’ll piss themselves.”

He made small talk for another minute or two, and then tossed his smoke when it was only halfway finished.

The two at the door moved immediately for Eddie, just as Rodney suggested they would. They even bowed their heads a bit, as if he were some type of mystical royalty.

The guy at the reception desk forgot to blink when he looked up at him, wondering if he should call the police or scream, but Eddie raised his hand with a partial smile, letting him know he didn’t want any trouble. “I’m just checking to see if someone is here,” he let him know. “It’s an emergency.”

“How about I check for you?” The guy in the wire-rimmed glasses asked nervously, shuffling papers. “Can I have a name?”

“No,” Eddie answered bluntly as he kept walking.

He stepped beyond a black partition to where he had a view of the lake windows and the people dining down below.

And then there you were.

Looking like a million bucks and then some. As confident as he’d been entering the building, now butterflies were exploding in his stomach and his face flushed with heat. If he didn’t know you, he’d be too nervous to even speak to you. You had always been way out of his league, but the way you looked that night really solidified the fact.

“Hey,” he said.

----------

“Eddie?” You stopped and looked around, not sure what was happening. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

You grabbed his hand and took him around the other side of the partition so that you weren’t right out in plain sight.

Eddie looked you up and down. “Did he buy you that dress?”

You only swallowed, and your silence said it all.

You took hold of his forearm, trying to meet his shifting gaze. “I promised you I’d call when I got home, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He’d rehearsed the words over and over on the ride there, but now they might as well have been a foreign language.

Eddie cast his gaze beyond you to all of the people eating their dinner as he shifted his jaw from side to side. “Did you tell him you have a boyfriend? Maybe I should introduce myself.”

“Baby, baby, baby, look at me,” you coaxed; one finger hooked in his belt loop and one guiding his face so that he’d look at you. His skin was hot, like he had a temperature. “I can’t do this with you right now. Please. You’re stressing me out. I’ll come by your place as soon as I’m done here, okay?”

Eddie knew he was blowing it. Internally, he tried that little meditation trick when you count back from ten or whatever the fuck, and he took a deep breath, but it didn’t help.

He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sucked his plump bottom lip into his teeth, biting down. “You’re just...so beautiful.”

You rose up to kiss his lips, and then you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll call you once I’m home, and then I’ll come over okay? I promise.”

Eddie nodded as you got further away from him, so far that you finally had to let go of his hand as your reach stretched to its limit. After you made your way down the couple of steps, you turned around to make eye contact with him again, but he was looking down.

Once you got back to the table, you stretched your neck up to check, and you didn’t see him standing in the same spot anymore, so you let out a relieved sigh. Your meals were on the table, and you apologized for taking so long. “I ran into a friend,” you told John.

After a bit more conversation and a couple bites of food, you glanced over to see that Jeff was shuffling his way over to your table. The smile he had pressed across his face was not reaching his eyes as he came up beside you and John.

He asked your name, as if he didn’t know it. “There is a...telephone call for you. Follow me please?”

You exchanged a look with John as you finished chewing your food and pushed your chair out. You excused yourself, again.

“Take your time,” John called to you as you followed behind Jeff.

Jeff did not take you to a telephone; he motioned for you to follow him around the other side of the bar, to a narrow hallway hidden behind a black velvet curtain. The sounds of the shouts and pans clinking in the kitchen were clear as day.

There was Eddie, waiting with his arms crossed. Jeff patted your hand as he left you there and walked away.

“Baby what...” your shoulders dropped, exasperated.

“Hold up, wait,” Eddie put his hand out. “I have something to say, and then you can go back to doing...whatever.”

You leaned against the door that said EXIT above it in orange letters. You really just wanted to get this dinner over so you could, indeed, be with Eddie again, but he was intent on dragging it out.

Eddie cast his gaze to the floor, hooking his thumbs into his front belt loops. “Listen, I know I don’t deserve you, okay?”

“Eddie---”

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Let me finish.”

You blinked and nodded, trying to be patient.

“So, I know I don’t have a lot right now, but one day I will. I’ll be comfortable at least. I’m not going to be in that apartment over the garage forever. I’ve made investments, I have some plans,” his eyes flicked to yours only briefly. “I’ve got enough money saved right now, what if I commission a painting from you? I can pay you whatever this dickhead is offering.”

You opened your mouth to speak but then--

He put his hand at your waist, urging you closer. “I wanna be the one you come to, baby. I want to take care of you. I will, if you’ll just let me.”

You couldn’t look at him for some reason, tears pooled at your lash line, and a lump lodged in your throat, your lip quivering. You’d been taking care of yourself for so long, you hadn’t realized how nice it would sound for someone to offer such a thing

The tip of his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip, and he slid his hand up along the side of your face, urging your eyes to meet his. “All I wanna do is make you happy and keep you safe,” his thumb brushed across the side of your mouth. “You’re everything to me, baby. I just wanna know that you’re mine.”

“But I am yours,” your voice squeaked as you sniffed back pending tears.

“Yeah, well, there’s something else,” Eddie’s heart rate quickened. He stepped forward to close the distance between the two of you and touched his forehead to yours briefly.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he continued, swallowing hard. Your wet eyes were possibly contagious because his chocolate eyes were glistening now too. “But I’m just so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m---”

But then you smashed your lips to his, blinking tears down your cheeks, tasting the salt as it dripped down your lips and mingled with your shared saliva. Your hands wandered all over each other, begging for purchase, eager moans vibrating in your throats. His words and the sweet eagerness of the kiss threatened to make a mess of your underwear right there in the restaurant.

You blinked and sniffed as you met his eyes again. You were shaking your head, almost in disbelief at the circumstances. “I love you so much,” you admitted, relieved to say the words after they’d been living on your tongue for so long.

Eddie found your mouth again, clutching the back of your neck to pull you closer, speaking in between eager kisses. “You do? Say it again, baby. Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured against his lips as he wrapped his arms around and crushed you to him. The last I love you made a little laugh hitch in your throat at the absurdity of where this confession was taking place.

Eddie picked you up so that your feet were off the ground for a second, making you squeal, and then he searched your eyes, his pupils blown. “God, I want to be inside of you so bad right now,” he breathed.

You reached down to feel the outline of his cock grow stiff in his jeans, and you thought about telling John that there was an emergency and you had to split.

He rubbed his nose on yours and then took your wrist and flattened your palm over his heart. “You can finish your dinner, baby, I’ll wait for you in the parking lot, I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Part 12

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@notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @truffleshuffle12 @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @dream-a-little-nightmare @rhirojo @ms1oftheboys @hellv1ra @emxcast @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @secretdryrose @falling-solar-system @kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @layla-loves-ed @lofaewrites @eddiemunson95 @seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @chelebelletx @texasblues @michellecrusher

@dandelionnfluff @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin @eddiemunson95 @clincallyonline17 @lilpotatobean2 @hideoutside @tlclick73 @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @leilalaufeyson02 @tenthmoon @corrodedcoffincumslut

#eddiemunsonseries #eddiemunson #eddiemunsonfic #biker eddie munson #eddie my beloved #older!eddie #steve harrington #older eddie munson #i'm on fire #90s au #boyfriend eddie munson

[overtrred28]

it's not your fault | Mary Earps x reader

Summary; The qualifier match against the Netherlands didn’t go exactly to plan even though they won and everyone is feeling it when that final whistle blows, especially Mary as she captains her team for the first time and you make sure she doesn't fall too deep.

Pairings; Mary Earps x lioness reader

Words; 2.2k

Warnings; angst and sadness 

A/N; It broke my heart seeing Mary like that after the game, she did her absolute best and I hope she doesn’t take it too hard and keeps her head up for the next game. So I thought I would write something that gave her a bit of imaginary comfort and projected what I would have done in that situation with her. (Also as much as I love Fran I am replacing her with the reader because in this you are a midfielder as well and we have to make some changes in this fake scenario)

You had known Mary long enough to tell when she was nervous before a game, often sitting by herself quietly for a few minutes to collect her thoughts before joining the team and getting them pumped up. But today you could sense an extra level of worry and nerves flowing through her like never before. 

She had a right to be nervous, of course. The Netherlands were tough opponents and she was captaining the Lionesses for the first time with both Leah and Millie absent from the team. She took the role seriously and with pride from the moment Sarina asked her to captain the English side in these qualifiers, you were so very proud of your partner and excited to take the field under her leadership. But now she was starting to worry you. 

She had been quiet the whole day, stuck in her own head as she went over the tactics and game plans she had discussed with Sarina and the coaching staff over the past few days. You had tried talking to her all day and get her mind off the game for one second and enjoy the pre match activities with the team but it was no use. She politely brushed you off and you just knew there was no chance in getting her to relax so you let her be. 

But now as you were preparing to line up in the tunnel for the match, you knew you had to pull her aside for even just a second and try and get her out of her head. 

Mary had just delivered a beautiful and powerful speech to the entire team in the dressing room before they all began moving to the tunnel or the benches and readied to start the game, but before Mary could walk out you grabbed her wrist and pulled her silently to an empty hallway. 

“What are you doing? We have to go and line up.” Mary sighed as you came to a stop and leant against the wall, her standing in front of you. 

“Mary, I need you to listen to me carefully, okay?” You stood up straighter, placing your hands onto her face. She nodded silently in confusion and waited for you to begin. “I need you to know that whatever happens out there, whether it goes our way or not. It’s not only on you, okay?” You spoke sternly with strong eye contact, hoping the words make their way into her head and calm her down. “I’m so proud of you. You work so hard and you deserve to be captain today. But, I can tell that taking on this role has taken a toll on you for the past few days, and I want you to know that you’re not alone and I’m always here for you. You are my world and I love you and whatever happens in these next 90 minutes, I am doing it with you. And so are the rest of those girls who look at you with as admiration as I do.” You smiled sweetly as you finished, watching her visibly melt and relax. She lets the words process and pulls you into a tight hug. 

“Thank you.” Mary mumbled into your shoulder, squeezing you tight before pulling back and looking into your eyes. “I love you.” She puts her forehead on yours and breathes in deeply. After a few moments of silence you both pulled back, nodding your head back down the empty hallway that led to the tunnel and you began walking side by side towards the rest of the starting line up. 

Mary made her way to the front to take her place as number 1 and captain, while you stayed just further back as number 9 and stood between the Lauren’s with your mascot. While waiting to get called out, you watched the back of Mary’s head and hoped that your words were sticking in her head but also stayed focused on the game ahead. Once both national anthems had played and formalities were exchanged with the opposition, it was time to start, waiting for the whistle to blow and the game to begin. 

The beginning was looking promising, your side taking quick possession and having fantastic chances and shots at goal within the first ten minutes but nothing seemed to go in and the Dutch defence was strong. In the 11th minute the Dutch side regained possession, swiftly passing to Pelova down the right wing who took a shot towards Beerensteyn, Jess and Lucy were closing in on her but when they clashed they opened too much space. 

Mary was ready for her, prepared to block from the angle but the ball left Beerensteyn’s foot, passing through Jess’s legs and just going under Mary as she fell to block it but in the end it was an early goal for the Netherlands. 

Watching it happen from further back on the field, unable to do anything from your position in the midfield, sighing in defeat when the net rippled and Mary stayed down on the ground in devastation. When the second goal just slipped past Mary again, she was mad at herself and also her defenders who let Beerensteyn in again for a second time. You caught her eye from the midfield and you could feel the anger from here. “Calm down.” Was all you could mouth to her while the players all returned to their positions, Mary huffing and shaking her head as she stood in the goal.

 The first half ended and England were down two nil and so were their spirits, especially Mary who tried to stay positive for her teammates but it was hard to hide her feelings.

After refreshing themselves and pumping back up for a battle in the second half, ready to fight and take the lead before that final whistle. 

Only 12 minutes into the second half and Georgia had finally secured a goal for the English side, you being one of the first to run up and jump on her with excitement at her header. Hope to turn this around bloomed two minutes later when Hempo sent the ball rippling into the net and the English crowd roared in celebration at the equalising goal. 

Time ticked and neither side could seem to secure a goal, yourself included in those ones on target but blocked. Sarina decided it was time for fresh legs, signalling for the planned substitutions to be made at 68 minutes. The numbers 9 and 23 flashed on the board and you ran over to the side, clapping Alessia and Tooney before walking over to the bench with water and plopping down next to Lotte, Georgia following close behind as exhausted as you. 

The team had 20 odd minutes to add to the scoreline and take the win, plenty of chances made but again nothing. Full time ended and the ref signalled 6 minutes of extra time before it was all over. And very quickly England had advanced again, the people on the bench watching as a brilliant ball was sent from LJ, directly to Tonne’s right foot, sending the ball straight through the keeper's legs at the 91st minute. You jumped up with Georgia and Lotte beside you, screaming your lungs out alongside the home crowd at the late advance. 

The final whistle blew and although England had come out on top, it wasn’t enough to take them where they needed to be in this qualifying stage, meaning the game against Scotland mattered even more now. Your heart broke as you saw Lucy and LJ drop to the floor instantly, feeling absolutely defeated and exhausted from this match. But your first priority was Mary, who you knew would be shattered right now, quickly walking onto the pitch, clapping your teammates and the Dutch players on your way to the England goal. Mary hated conceding goals, it was one thing she criticised herself on so harshly at both club and international level. 

Your eyes searched that end of the field as you walked past player after player but you still couldn’t see her. A few people were knelt down on the ground consoling someone, no face shown but you could just make out the green keeper kit peeping through the gaps and you began running over. Lotte spotted you and began moving away slowly, the other girls also getting the hint and backing away so you could come closer to Mary. As much as they also wanted to console her, they knew you were the person she needed right now, knowing you would be able to get through to her. 

“Hey love.” You spoke softly, kneeling down and resting your head on hers. The second she heard your soft voice she let out a deep breath, more tears springing to her eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered out to you, shaking her head against yours, shoulder shaking with her shuddered breath.

“Stop.” You spoke more sternly, placing your hands against her face but keeping your foreheads together, keeping this moment between the two of you. “It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault, okay? We rise and we fall as a team.” Mary didn’t respond to you, just sniffling in silence and that was enough for you to pull both of you up from the ground and bury her head in your neck, wrapping one arm around her back, the other holding her head. 

Mary instantly wrapped her arms over your shoulders, her taller frame leaning into your body and letting go slightly. More tears fell from her eyes and she forgot you were standing in the middle of Wembley Stadium, all she knew was that she was safe in your arms and that was all that mattered at that moment. 

A few people had come past you and Mary hugging on the field before you pulled back and finally looked into her red, tired eyes. Your own eyes were teary from feeling the weight of the game and after seeing how hard Mary was taking this and the conceded goals. You sent her a soft smile and wiped under her eyes, brushing a few stray baby hairs from her face. 

“I love you, angel.” She whispered to you once again, tears choking up her throat. 

“I love you so much.” You brushed her cheek with your thumb one last time. Knowing you would have to form your huddle soon, you kept an arm over her shoulder, Mary wrapping one of her own around your waist as you both walked to where other members of the team were waiting. A few of the girls were taking this hard, just like Mary, and others were like you comforting their friends close. 

After interviews were done, everyone was showered and rugged up, you piled onto the silent bus, Mary slotting in beside you near the back. You opened up your arms to her and her head fell onto your chest, her arms wrapping around your middle as you ran your hands through her clean wet hair. Normally Mary was the one to hold you in her arms after a tough game but you knew she needed the familiarity of your arms to sooth her. 

After dinner Mary had found her way into your room, asking to swap with Rachel for the night, who happily did so and went to the other room with Lucy. You and Mary just laid in bed silently together, you laying on her chest and she held you close, slowly running her fingers up and down your back. You could tell she was in her head again when her movements became less constant and when you looked up at her, she was just staring off into space.

“Love,” You caught her attention, her eyes shifting down to you. “You can’t change what happened.” You shook your head softly and watched her deflate. 

“I let everyone down.” She finally spoke, averting her eyes from yours, unable to look at you anymore. You quickly sat up, moving so you were now straddling her hips and put your hands on her shoulders. 

“Love, look at me.” You spoke. “Mary.” Saying her name caught her attention, her eyes locking onto yours, tears slowly forming again. “You did not and could not let anyone down. You were amazing today and what happened on that pitch does not and will not define who you are as a person or footballer.” You had now moved your hands to hold her face. “I missed so many shots today, I should have gotten those but I didn’t, these things happen.” You swallowed as tears began to form in your eyes as you can see how broken she is. “I have never been prouder of you than I am right now.” You smiled and rested your forehead on hers. 

“You’re so good to me.” Mary let out a small laugh, a tear rolling down her cheek as she shut her eyes, her hands squeezing your hips gently. “How did I get so lucky?” You laughed at her comment, thinking the exact same thing. Mary lifted her head from yours and met your eyes again for a second before quickly closing the gap and capturing your lips in a kiss. It was slow, soft, passionate and meaningful. 

For the rest of the night you laid in one another's arms, chatting mindlessly about things until the exhaustion took over and you both fell sound asleep attached to each other.

#mary earps #mary earps x reader #engwnt #lionesses #lionesses x reader #lucy bronze #alessia russo #woso #woso x reader #mary earps imagine

[sorceresski]

Moments together - Ruben Dias

(plus bonus IG post)

Pairing: Ruben Dias x reader

Summary: In which you celebrate winning the UCL with our favourite cb

Arriving at the stadium ahead of the match it felt like deja vu. The last time you had attended a ucl final, you had left heartbroken. A few nights before, Ruben had confided in you. But he didn’t even need to, his nerves were palpable.

He’d lost the final before and it had made him even more determined. But this time was different, a treble was on the line.

“I’m worried.” He was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dark room. “We’ve achieved so much this season and it would all look pointless if we lose this final again.”

You let him talk, reassure him, hold him to sleep, by the next morning he was gone. He had a plane to catch to Istanbul.

Now, you felt those butterflies in your stomach, like you were going out onto the field as well. You stood with his family in a sea of sky blue and watched him step onto the field with his teammates.

Your vision blurred as the ref blew the final whistle. His brother was shaking you but your eyes were fixed to where Ruben had fallen to his knees in the middle of the pitch.

The next moments were a blur. Deep hugs with his family and the other wags. The team lifted the trophy while you and his family made your way down from the stands.

“Y/n!” He called when he saw you, arms wide, waiting for you with a huge smile on his face. You broke into a run to cover the distance between you two and he lifted you effortlessly, like he didn’t spend the last 90 minutes running up and down the pitch. You threw your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around him.

Nothing and no one else mattered in that moment. It was just you and him. You buried your head in his neck, fingers threading into his damp hair. He was sweaty, the medal was cold and hard against your chest but it didn’t matter.

“I’m so proud of you.” You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Te amo,” was his response.

“Save some for the rest of us,” his brother joked as he and Ruben’s parents finally caught up to you. He set you down and gave them each equally deep hugs.

You felt the love you had for him swell in that moment, like you could burst.

Days later, after the celebrations had died down, you’d often catch him staring at the newest addition to his trophy shelf. He took any excuse to walk past the medal multiple times a day.

“I’m starting to think I’m the second best thing in your life,” you’d huff playfully.

youruser

Liked by rubendias, erlinghaaland, ivandias and 4535 others

youruser Passion has led you to victory. With you every step of the way. I’m very proud of you my love 💙😘

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Rubendias l love you❤️

yourbestfriend what a night!

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A/n: sorry this is quite short, I just had to get this out❤️‍🔥

CTID!💙

#ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #footballer imagines #football fic #ruben dias #man city #footballer fic

[yankstrash]

I’ve Got You ~ Rutger McGroarty

Warnings: Mentions of attempted SA, swearing, underage drinking, slight physical harm & fighting

Dating a UMich hockey player meant that all your Friday nights consisted of going to a party at the sophomore house, and tonight was no different. You stood in the kitchen, clad in skinny jeans and your favorite red tank top that revealed just enough cleavage, drinking and laughing with Luke and Ethans girlfriends. The three of you sipped mindlessly on whatever sugary punch the freshman boys whipped up tonight as you watched them yell at each other from across the pong table. 

Looking over at your boyfriend, Rutger, you made brief eye contact as he sent a smirk and wink your way. You playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head, a small blush appearing on your cheeks at the sight of your beautiful boy. 

To a lot of people, Rutger had a very intimidating demeanor. While the people closest to him knew he was a total sweetheart and extremely caring, those not close to him did not. He was 6’1”, built, athletic and overall had an intimidating look to his face, making it easy to ward off boys at parties who dared even look your way. It wasn’t usually a problem anyways, as you and Rutger were attached at the hip 90% of the time at parties. Tonight, however, was one of those rare nights where you both kept more to your respected friend groups; at least for now. 

After a few more minutes of giggling at anything and everything, you excused yourself to use the bathroom, as you had just finished your third cup of punch. You approached the bathroom and were met with a line at least 10 people deep.

Fuck that, you had to go. 

Taking advantage of your hockey girlfriend title, you wandered upstairs, which was usually off limits at parties, to use one of the guys' bathrooms. Off limit rules do not apply to girlfriends, duh. As you approached the top of the stairs, you swore you felt a presence not far behind you, but you ignored it assuming it was just one of the guys. You slipped into Ethans bathroom and took care of your business. Just as you finished drying your hands, your phone vibrated in your back pocket. Pulling it out, you smiled as you saw a text from Rutger.

“Where are you? I don’t spot your pretty face in the kitchen anymore :(”

Your smile grew wider as you read the text, shooting one back saying that you were in the bathroom and would be down in a second. Even when you and Rutger weren’t side by side at a party, he always liked you to be in his eyesight to keep an eye on you. 

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you turned and opened the bathroom door, but were barely out of it when you were approached by an unfamiliar boy. Normally this wouldn’t make you uneasy, there were random guys lingering all over the party. However, the only ones allowed up here were the hockey guys, and he was not one of them. 

You jumped back slightly as he was standing quite close to the door frame. 

“My bad, didn’t mean to scare you.” The boy said. 

“It’s okay.” You replied, debating on whether or not you should mention how he’s not allowed up here. You decided to just leave it be, he probably was just going to do his business and leave. Deciding to stay silent, you tried to move past him and head back downstairs, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’m Jake.” He said, standing in your way. 

You sent him a shy smile back, nodding your head slightly, not returning the name gesture.

“And you are?” He pressed on when you stayed silent.

“I-” You started, but couldn’t find your words as you were growing more nervous as the seconds passed. “Sorry I just need to get back downstairs.” Was all you said as you managed to slip by him. Before you could get too far however, he grabbed your wrist.

“That’s not your name.” He said, as he kept a tight grip on your wrist that continued to grow stronger, sure to leave a mark.

“Please let go of me.” You said, barely audible as your voice grew shaky.

“I guess I could go without a name, five minutes is all I’ll need anyways.” He replied, as he started to drag you back towards the bathroom. Your heart began beating out of your chest as you realized what was happening.

“Please let go of me!” You repeated, using your free hand to attempt to pry your other one out of his grip, but he was much bigger and stronger than you. “I have a boyfriend.” You said. You wanted to start wailing for Rutger, but it would be no use. You were all the way upstairs and the party was way too loud for anyone to hear you. 

“Pretty sure if you had a boyfriend he wouldn’t let a girl as pretty as you be wandering around a party by yourself.” Was all he said as he attempted to keep dragging you towards the bathroom. 

Using all your strength possible, you managed to slip your wrist out of his grip, kneeing him in the groin before turning and flying down the stairs. You could’ve sworn you missed over half of them, but you didn’t care. Your only concern right now was getting to Rutger.

Or Ethan. Or Luke. Or Mark. Or Mackie. Or literally anyone you knew at this moment. 

Pushing your way past people, you finally made it back to the kitchen. The first familiar face you saw was Mark, and you ran straight up to him, crashing into his chest. He barely budged as he was much bigger than you, and used his hands to steady you as you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Y/N?” He asked, confused. “What’s going on?” Tears began to spill out of your eyes as you tried to catch your breath, heaving in and out. 

“This guy, he- he.” You choked out, but your words kept getting caught in your throat. That was all any of the boys needed to hear before they were scrambling off to find Rutger. 

“He what? What guy? What did he do?” Mark rapidly fired questions, as he pulled you slightly away from his chest to talk to you face to face. 

Just as you were about to open your mouth to try to explain, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped immediately, clinging back to Mark before you realized who it actually was. 

“Y/N! Baby, it’s me, it’s me, it’s Rut!” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, and wasted not a second more releasing Mark and spinning around to embrace your boyfriend. 

“Hey, hey, shhh, shhh, calm down baby it’s okay, I’m right here, I’ve got you.” 

You gripped his waist tightly, as if he would disappear if you held on any looser. He used one hand to cradle the back of your head, as the other was rubbing your back up and down soothingly. 

He managed to pull you away enough to be able to talk to you. “Baby, can you tell me what happened?” He asked, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out were choked sobs. You were terrified. Who knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t managed to get away from that guy. 

Rutger didn’t pry, he only held your head against his chest again and soothed you. He held you for a few more moments before trying to get you to talk again.

“Y/N, sweet girl, I will hold you as long as you need, but I need you to tell me what happened and with whom so I can take care of it. Then I promise I will not let you go for the rest of the night.” Rutger reassured. With that, you pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

“I was using E-Ethan’s b-bathroom a-and some g-guy tried to…” You started, choking on your words. “He t-tried to pull me in w-with him when I was trying t-to l-leave.” You managed to get out in between shaky breaths. Rutgers body immediately went rigid, and his expression froze as he clenched his jaw. 

“And he hurt me.” You sobbed out the last part, which made Rutgers head immediately whip down to examine your body for marks. You held up your wrist to him and showed him the bruises that were already forming. He gently took your arm in his hand as he looked at your wrist, his anger only growing more as the seconds passed.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask who did this, there was an unknown presence approaching the group of hockey boys. “There you a- oh fuck.” The unknown presence said, but you recognized the voice. It was Jake, who stopped briskly in his tracks as he saw what he just walked into. About ten hockey players, one of them being your boyfriend who currently had steam coming out of his ears.

“Baby, is that him?” Rutger asked, as you turned around in his arms and met the eyes of the guy who tried to assault you. 

You nodded your head yes and gripped onto Rutger tighter, which made him feel guilty about letting go of you, but he had to take care of this guy.

“Luca.” Rutger said, still staring straight at the guy, who tried walking away before Nolan and Mark grabbed him. 

Luca was right up beside Rutger once he said his name. “Take her, please. I need to go deal with this.” Rutger said, as he began to let go of you. When you felt him loosening his grip on you, you only clung tighter. 

“No no, please, please don’t leave me!” You said, as tears began falling again. Rutger felt so guilty for leaving you, as all he wanted to do was hold you as tight as possible and tell you everything was going to be okay. And he would, right after he taught Jake a lesson. 

“Y/N, baby I promise I will be back in 5 minutes, okay? You stay with Luca, he’ll keep you safe. I know you love your Wu Poo hugs.” Rutger said, using the nickname you had given Luca, giving you one last squeeze before passing you over to his best friend. 

If Rutger couldn’t be with you in this moment, you were glad Luca was, as he was also one of your closest friends that you trusted with your life. Releasing your boyfriend, you clung to Luca. 

“I will be back soon love, I promise.” Rutger said, giving you a kiss on your head and turning to Luca. “Do not leave her side, and do not let her see any of this.” Rutger said in Luca’s ear as he nodded. 

“And you.” Rutger said, whipping around and looking at Jake who was still in the grasp of Nolan and Mark. “How dare you touch my girlfriend.” He said, walking up to Jake and ripping him right from Nolan and Mark with ease. “Let’s go have a little chat, yeah?” He finished, dragging the guy outside with half the guys in his trail.

You tried to look over to where Rutger was taking him, but Luca used his hand to shield your face from the scene. “No no, don’t look Y/N. It’s okay, cmon, let’s go sit down.” Luca said as he led you over to the couch. You both sat down as Luca pulled you into his side while you placed your head on his chest and held him tightly. He rubbed your back in a soothing manner. Luca knew how much you meant to Rutger, and he was going to keep you safe while he was gone. 

“Y/N?” You heard, as you looked up from Lucas' chest to see Ethan’s girlfriend, who was your closest girlfriend on the team. “E just told me what happened.” She said as she sat down next to you, and you released Luca to hug your friend. 

“Want me to go help Rut kick his ass?” She asked, which earned a laugh from you. “You definitely could if Eddy would let you.” A couple of the other guys came over to make sure you were okay and talk to you to distract you from whatever Rutger was doing outside. 

Within minutes, the backdoor opened and the guys all filed back inside. Rutger looked around for you, unable to spot you. “Where’s my Y/N?” He asked frantically. Nolan spotted you on the couch and pointed. Rutger immediately rushed over to you, shaking out his hand in the process as it was already bruising from what he did to Jake. 

“Baby.” He said, kneeling down in front of where you were sitting on the couch. You sat up immediately and wrapped your arms around his neck. You didn’t even care what he had done to Jake, you were just glad he was back.

“I’m taking you home.” He said as you nodded your head and you began to stand up, your arms still around Rutgers neck as he took this as a sign that you wanted to be carried. In one swift motion he lifted you off the couch and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I’m taking her home, I’ll see you guys later.” Rutger said to the group as he released one hand from your back to do his handshake with Luca and thank his best friend for looking after you. 

Rutger wasn’t drinking tonight, so you two got into his car and headed off. The car ride was mostly silent besides Rut asking you whether you wanted to stay at your place or his place tonight, to which you responded his. 

Once you guy got to his apartment he opened your door for you and helped you out of the car, keeping his arm around your waist all the way till you got to his room. 

“Stay here baby.” He said as you sat down on his bed while he scurried off to get some of your clothes. You kept some clothes at his apartment seeing as you were there half the time. You sat on the edge of his bed, holding your arms in your hands. You felt distressed and unsettled after the events that took place tonight. 

You decided to take a shower, hoping it would make you feel a bit better. “Rut, I’m gonna shower real quick.” You said to him as he was gathering your clothes in his closet. 

“Okay baby, are you okay by yourself or do you want me to come with you?” He asked. You shook your head as you said, “I’ll be okay.” And headed off to his bathroom. 

You stepped into the shower, and mainly just stood under the water and let it hit you, trying to cleanse away what happened tonight. You kept thinking about what almost happened with Jake, and it made you feel uneasy and sick. After a while, you got out and wrapped yourself in a towel before heading back to Rut’s room.

When you got back, he was laying in bed on his phone. He sat up when he saw you and gestured towards the clothes on his bed. “Here you go baby.” He gently smiled as he handed you the clothes. You noticed it was a pair of your sleep shorts, underwear and one of your tank tops. 

You smiled weakly and took the clothes from him. “Could I wear one of your shirts?” You quietly asked. Ruts face softened at your question. You were so precious and fragile right now. “Of course you can.” He said as he got up to retrieve one for you.

He came back moments later with a Michigan hockey shirt in his hands. You dropped the towel from around you and slipped on your underwear and sleep shorts before you let your boyfriend slip his shirt on you, which draped down to your knees.

You picked up the towel and hung it back up in the bathroom while Rutger got situated in bed. Once you came back into his room, he was already laying down, waiting to hold you. “C’mere baby.” He cooed as you turned off his light and slipped into bed next to him, immediately clinging to him.

You laid right on top of him as he rubbed your back and calmed you down. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered so you could barely hear it. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” He said, and you lifted yourself up a bit to look at him in the dimly lit room.

“You were there, Rut. You were there when I came running to you. You made sure I was with someone you trusted and made sure I didn’t see anything while you dealt with the guy. You got me out of there and took care of me. You did everything you could, so please don’t beat yourself up over it.” You said, holding his face in your hands.

He swallowed hard and nodded his head. “Okay.” 

You leaned in and placed a long, gentle kiss on his lips, before pulling away and nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck. He kissed your forehead and ran his fingers up and down your back.

“I love you.” You said.

“I love you more, and I will always protect you. I promise.” 

#rutger mcgroarty #rutger mcgroarty x reader #rutger mcgroarty imagine #rutger mcgroarty blurb #umich hockey #hockey imagine #hockey blurb

[pulisicsgirl]

this is me trying - mason mount

summary: Mason is having trouble putting his frustrations into words, but Y/N is there to help him work it out

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, a good bit of angst and some mentions of self-doubt, but then a little fluff at the end, established relationship

requested: no

notes: surprise!! i felt inspired to write this after the last couple of rough games, so i put this together pretty quickly tonight. i'm still working on part two of the request, but i wanted to get this one out there! also i don't usually do this, but this fic draws some inspiration from 'this is me trying' by taylor swift (hence the title), so feel free to listen to that while you read! this is something i'm thinking about doing more often, so let me know what you think!

It was another disappointing draw for Chelsea FC: a goalless draw at home to Liverpool.

To put it bluntly, the squad that Chelsea put on the field looked… uninspired. They lacked any sort of consistency or passion.

And of course, you were disappointed and frustrated to see Mason remain on the bench for the full 90 minutes.

After the game, you found yourself wandering down toward the field end of the tunnel, searching for him without going too far out into the stadium. You hadn’t seen him emerge as you waited with the rest of the families in the lounge and decided to take matters into your own hands.

As you peeked out from the tunnel, you spotted him over by the players’ bench, fiddling with the laces on his shoes. Most everyone had cleared out of the stadium by now, the seats empty and an ominous silence falling over the area that usually held such a high energy.

Mason stood up fully, noticing you as you took a couple of slow, cautious steps out of the tunnel toward him. Your arms were tucked behind your back innocently, swaying slowly back and forth, and if he wasn’t feeling the way that he was currently, he would’ve melted at the sight.

He approached you, greeting you at barely more than a whisper before he pulled you into a brief hug. The smell of sweat and grass that typically filled your nose when he hugged you after a match was notably missing. After all, he hadn’t been able to do anything to work up a sweat.

When he pulled back from the hug, he kept his arms loosely around your shoulders. “You go on and head home and I’ll meet you there in a bit, yeah?” he muttered quietly. “I’m gonna run a few sprints here before I head out, just stretch my legs a bit.” He forced a small smile, but he didn’t pretend to think that you believed it. He knew that you saw straight through his façade—you knew him far too well for that.

You just nodded at him with a short, “okay,” and released his waist from where your arms had been holding him close. He pressed a short kiss on your forehead before he turned and jogged away toward the goal line.

You began to walk back toward the tunnel, but before you left, you turned, watching Mason for a few moments.

He alternated between sprinting and jogging back and forth, up and down the field. His head hung low, and you could see the despair and sadness written all over it. Mason was always a team player, but in the private moments, he couldn’t help it when the lack of playing time and the way that his managers no longer seemed to trust in his abilities started to chip away at his morale. And you knew that, even if he didn’t express that to you.

Deciding to give him some time alone to reflect, you turned to leave, a heavy weight of sadness for Mason weighing on your heart.

About an hour later, you found yourself tidying up around the house, anxiously awaiting Mason’s arrival. He had texted you not long ago to let you know that he was on his way.

You were determined to talk things through with him tonight. You had done your best to allow him to have the space that he wanted, but you knew that the more he kept these things to himself, the worse he was getting.

The two of you learned very early in your relationship that you were both the kind of person to try to deal with things on your own. If something would happen or you had something on your mind, you would bottle it up and just try to power through it. This caused a lot of issues in the early months of your relationship, and the two of you decided together that you needed to do better.

So now, you both held each other accountable. As you learned and grew together, you gave one another space when it was warranted and confronted the other when it was necessary. This time seemed to have grown into one of the latter.

You heard the brief jingle of Mason’s keys as he pulled them out of the lock in the front door, shutting it behind him. Mason’s bag could be heard plopping onto the floor as he seemingly dropped it at his feet.

You wandered toward the front door, eventually finding him in the living room. He was sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his knees with his head in his hands. His hair was slightly damp—clearly he had taken a shower at the stadium following his sprints.

You approached him slowly and stood in front of him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. He didn’t jump at the sudden contact, telling you that he had known you were there.

You trailed your fingers from his shoulder, up his neck, and under his chin, titling his head so that he was looking at you.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered. He didn’t respond, dropping his elbows from his legs. You took this as an invitation and sat down with your legs on either side of his. He leaned back into the cushions of the couch.

Neither of you spoke a word for several long moments. You rested a hand on his jaw, stroking his cheekbone slowly with your thumb as he leaned into the soft touch. Your other hand rested on the junction between his neck and shoulder.

You took a moment to admire his features: the soft creases by his eyes that grew more intense when he would smile, the gentle curves of his nose, the stubble along his jaw that tickled your hand, the scattered freckles that adorned his cheeks and nose. You looked over his face, adoring each part of it.

However, Mason seemed unable to look anywhere close to your face, his eyes cast downward and staring at your lap. He rested his hands on your hips, but his fingers don’t find their way under your shirt to rub small circles into your skin the way they usually do. The light that usually fills his eyes is absent, replaced by a dull and far-off look.

He knows what’s coming. He knows you need him to talk to you about what’s going on in his head. But he can’t figure out how to put into words the sorrow that seems to sit on his chest like a weight, causing him to feel a constant pressure against his ribcage as his heart physically aches.

He’s pulled from his wandering thoughts by your lips pressed softly to his nose, a gentle kiss meant to communicate all possible forms of reassurance to him.

At this, he finally raises his eyes up to your face, not finding the pitying look that he had been dreading. Instead, he saw pure love in your eyes and a desire to help him in any way that you could.

“Talk to me, baby.” Your thumb continued to stroke his cheekbone, hoping to soothe some of the turmoil you could see behind his eyes.

He pressed his lips together tightly, still trying to muster up the courage and the right words to voice his thoughts.

“I just…” he hesitated. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Your lips turned down in a frown, thinking for a moment. “Okay… talk to me about what you’re feeling right now. Are you sad? Angry?” You tried to help him put words to the things he was feeling. “Anxious?”

“Anxious, yeah,” he nodded slightly. “And sad, I think.”

You smiled slightly as you began to feel that you were making progress. Your moved your arms further up his shoulders, threading your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as you scratched his scalp gently. “Alright, tell me what’s making you feel anxious.”

Mason’s eyes slipped closed for a moment, and he subconsciously tilted his chin up, leaning back into your touch. You gladly let him have that moment of peace, soothed by your gentle voice and soft touch.

“Just… a lot of changes at the club right now. Still trying to adjust to new players. New gaffer now.” He spoke in short, choppy statements, blinking his eyes open as he was unpleasantly drawn back to reality by his own words. “Things are still up in the air with my contract. The fans are saying all kinds of stuff. I had to drop out of international duty. I’m trying to come back from an injury, and I haven’t played a minute in weeks.” His voice grew a little louder with each word, and you placed both of your hands on his cheeks to try to calm him down without shushing him. He noticed the gesture, realizing that he was starting to work himself up, and paused to take a breath.

“I feel like they don’t trust me anymore.” His eyes were misty when he said this, and you felt your heart crack into pieces.

“Who doesn’t trust you? The coaches? The fans?”

“Kind of both, I guess. But mainly the coaches.” He casted his eyes downward again, too ashamed to look at you in what he felt was a moment of weakness.

You lifted his head up once more, leaning your forehead against his so that he was forced to look you in the eye.

“You listen, and you listen good, Mason,” you started, pulling a slight chuckle from him at your actions. “Don’t you ever go doubting your abilities as a football player. You are the most naturally gifted and creative player I think I have ever seen, and your accomplishments speak to that. The managers who have gotten the privilege to work with you love you, and if anyone can’t see that, they’re insane. Sure, this season has been rough, but you are one of eleven men on that pitch at any given moment, with several more sitting on the bench who all make some sort of contribution to the successes or failures of this team. This responsibility does not lie solely on your shoulders.”

Mason nodded at you, and you could see him trying to swallow back tears. The simultaneous pain and relief of confronting his dark thoughts was overwhelming.

“I know this last month has been hard for you, between injury and big changes at the club, but you’ve handled it so well. You may not believe me when I say it, but you’ve been so strong through all of the unexpected obstacles that have been thrown at you. And I am so proud of you for that.”

At these words, a tear finally spilled from his eye, rolling down his face. You wiped it away with your thumb, pressing a kiss to both of his cheeks.

“Things will work out with your contract, baby. I know you want to find a way to stay, but they always say that sometimes one door has to close so that others can open. Who knows what kind of success and growth you’ll find at a new club, or if you get to stay here, you can find it here, too. Wherever you go, you’re going to be incredible, okay?”

He nods wordlessly, eyes still shining with tears.

“Take a deep breath.” The two of you take one together, breathing out slowly as you gaze into his eyes. “Try to focus on the good things. Your family is all in good health. You got to see your nieces over the weekend.”  A small smile breaks out on his face at that. “You’re spending your career doing the thing that you love most. And you’re not slowing down anytime soo—”

“And I have you,” he cut you off, barely more than a whisper. You were caught off-guard by his words, taking a moment to look over his face and calm your heart that had begun racing.

“And you have me,” you smiled back at him, resuming the way you had been scratching over his scalp a few minutes ago. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

Mason wrapped his arms fully around your torso, pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his face in your neck. You felt the warm tears dropping onto your skin and kissed the side of his head, continuing to scratch his neck and shoulders as you held him in your arms.

“Can we just stay here for a while?” His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you were still able to understand him,

“Of course, sweetheart. As long as you need.”

tag list: @masonspulisic @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fics #footballer fics #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #football imagine #football fics #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount one shot #mason mount angst #mason mount blurb #chelsea fc

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

One in Eleven Million (ch. 3)

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Can you tell my ADHD brain has no sense of time? I was fully like 'oh yeah it's been a week' and it's actually been 3, I am so sorry. Thank you to everyone following this series; it is complete so I swear you will get the full story! (Also shoutout to @glorified-red for body doubling w/ me and being overall amazing; I appreciate you.)

Previous chapters linked here and here.

wc: ~1050

warnings: mentions of non-graphic injury

~~

Damian’s bicep throbbed and he switched his rolling carry-on to his other hand. He’d disinfected, stitched, and wrapped the bullet graze, but that was hours ago now and he hadn’t kept any painkillers in his backpack. Even if they weren’t in his carry-on, he wouldn’t have pulled them out on the plane. As much as he’d learned about the stranger he and Jon were sitting with, he didn’t trust you enough for that. 

Jon’s carry-on bag was loud, wheels clattering against the floor and echoing in the mostly empty airport. It was a small bag and a cheap one, bought mostly for appearances and convenience. Damian’s, on the other hand, was from a safe house 90 minutes away from the airport. It was the only reason he hadn’t been stopped at security with Batman WE technology in the hidden compartment. Jon’s suit—sans the belt in Damian’s suitcase—got through security with no problems. 

He may not trust them farther than Jon could presently throw them, but Damian could at least admit that the stranger on the plane was an unexpected boon. With Jon already on edge from the solar flare and subsequent stranding and Damian himself running on not enough sleep and an even smaller social battery, having a gruff, immoveable asshole in between them would have made the flight more torturous than it was destined to be. With these delays, even more so. A childish part of Damian wanted to call Richard back and say that they did need a pick-up, actually. Some combination of pride and exhaustion stopped him. A few steps ahead, Jon’s laugh rang out, joined quickly by a laugh made familiar by only the last few hours. 

Fine so it was pride, exhaustion, and seeing Jon happy. Sue him. 

While Jon followed your—yes he knew your name, he just didn’t know you enough to use it yet—guidance through the airport, Damian watched the signs. The literal ones and the body language ones. Nothing on the plane ride had given him reason to think the stranger meant any harm, but Damian was raised with extreme paranoia on all sides of his family. Jon was his family too, though, and with his super senses compromised, Damian’s instinct would have to do. 

“Okay so since this is a shuttle, I think it’s this door.” Damian looked up at the sign you were pointing to. Zone 8, it read, Airport Shuttles. Jon shrugged.

“Looks right.”

He took the lead this time and you followed. Damian stayed behind, eyes catching on your backpack. You don’t have clothes with you, he remembered. By the looks of it, you didn’t have much with you at all. 

There was a shuttle leaving by the time the three of you reached the platform. 

“Excuse me,” you asked a woman standing nearby. Damian vaguely recognized her from the boarding line. “Are you here for the hotel shuttles?” The woman turned around, launching into a tirade.

Damian took the distraction for a chance to talk to Jon. 

“No change right?” Jon shook his head, hands rubbing up and down his arms. 

“None. I didn’t really expect any this early. Maybe tomorrow if I’m lucky? Or the day after.” 

Damian swung his backpack off of his shoulder to pull his jacket off. 

“You’re not regulating temperature properly—” 

Jon’s hand on his arm stopped him. 

“Your arm.” Damian cursed under his breath and pulled the jacket back on. 

“How long’s it been since you changed that?” Jon asked. 

“I’ll change it at the hotel, it’s fine.” 

“It’s not.” 

In the corner of his eye, Damian watched you extricate yourself from the tirade. 

“You’re not one to talk, currently,” he said. “It’s barely chilly out and you’re shivering.” Jon’s response was curtailed by your return. 

“Oh but the Metropolis folks aren’t built for this kind of weather, don’t you know? It’s clear skies with a chance of red cape sightings over there.” Your own jacket was still on, though unzipped. 

A snort of laughter escaped Damian before he could hold it back. Damian blamed it on the fatigue. He blamed the spark of gratification he got when you delighted in his reaction on that too. Jon rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, very funny.”

Your eyes locked onto something behind Jon and Damian tracked your gaze to the shuttle. Jon took a step back as it parked right beside him. 

“Bluiett, Archanza, Helioz!” Yelled the driver. 

Jon extended his arm, ushering you inside. 

“After you.” 

“Thanks.” 

Damian clambered on after Jon. He’d taken a seat across from you. Damian sat next to him. 

The shuttle ride was, for the most part, quiet until the first stop. 

“I don’t have any pajamas,” you lamented, head dropping back against the window behind you. “Or toiletries.” 

Damian wasn’t sure if you were expecting an answer, even if he did know what to say. Jon’s eyebrows wrinkled. Damian thought his thinking face was adorable. Jon thought it was embarrassing.

“You can borrow something of mine if you want?” Jon offered. Damian held back a smile. Jon had very little clothes-wise in his carry on—just sweatpants, an extra set of jeans, a t-shirt or two, and underwear. And a Superman suit. But still, he offered. You smiled awkwardly, eyes dipping down to where your own backpack rested on your lap. 

“Um, no I’m good. But thanks.” 

Damian’s eyes tracked your face. For the first time all evening, he found what he was looking for. You didn’t quite trust them either, not yet. You were wary of them. Not afraid, not like you were when you got on the plane, but wary. Jon and he were strangers and you knew it. 

“Even hotels as bad as these should provide some sort of soap,” Damian offered. 

For the first time all night, your hopeful smile was directed at him. 

“Yeah, I forgot about that, thanks.” The relief in your voice told him you were being genuine. Damian nodded in return, giving into the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“I think I’m taking sleep over a shower anyway,” Jon added. 

“Easy for you to say when there’s options,” you teased back at him. Damian might not have laughed the way Jon did, but he cracked a smile nonetheless.When the three of you parted in the hotel elevator—you on your own on the second floor and he and Jon together on the third—Damian might not have known everything there was to know about you, but his instincts whispered trust. Good enough for him.

#when you and your bestie are both on tumblr doing dc things while also watching justice league unlimited #10/10 do recommend #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jonathan kent #jonathan kent imagine #jon kent imagine #emerson writes sometimes

[bullet-prooflove]

Crime Wave: David Hale x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hatersaremymotivators bennykk kelpies-shed

Companion piece to Graffiti

David Hale wants to court you.

It surprises you because up until now the men in your life have been interested in one thing and one only and that’s fucking you.

When he calls you that night, you fully expect it to be a booty call. It’s past ten pm and you’re curled up in your arm chair, listening to the sounds of the 70s, 80s,and 90s over the radio as you sketch out a scene from the café on Main Steet earlier today. It’s nothing special, just a flower that you saw in a glass of water but you haven’t been able to get it out of your head so you’re committing it to paper. That’s usually how your art comes to you, you see something in the wild that sticks in your brain and you can’t let it go, not until you’ve drawn it.

Usually it’s people. You have entire sketchbooks dedicated to folks you don’t know the names of because you’re fascinated by their posture and facial expressions. It’s the reason you decided to draw David this morning.

When you met it had seemed like he carried the weight of the world up on his shoulders but in that moment, asleep in your bed, he’d seemed relaxed, free. You’d wanted to capture that. You didn’t intend to give the picture away and the phone number had been a last minute addition, hastily scrawled as he was heading out the door.

The truth is you never expected him to call.

“Don’t tell me it took you this long to find my number.” You tease after he greets you.

He laughs and that sound, you don’t realise how much you’ve missed it during the twelve hours you’ve been apart.

“It’s been a busy night.” He tells you as he sits at his desk, reviewing the arrest reports. “It’s been hard to find a moment between throwing the regulars in the drunk tank and arresting delinquents for drawing dicks on other people’s property. It seems you’ve started a trend, one that’s going viral.”

“You’re kidding right?” You say, tapping your pencil on the surface of your sketchpad and you can envision him shaking his head with that amused expression of his as he surveys the evidence.

“I wish I was.” He tells you and you hear the chair creak as he leans back in it. “Cars, mailboxes, shop windows. You’ve inspired a crime wave.”

“Honestly David, I’m so fucking embarrassed.” You say as you press your fingertips to your lips. “Let me make it up to you.”

“This is dinner and a movie at least.” He tells you with a humorous lilt to his voice. “I can give you a tour of your handiwork afterwards, we can rate them, biggest to smallest, most anatomically accurate…”

You can’t help but laugh and on the opposite end of the line David feels something blossoming in his chest.

“I actually took some pictures for evidentiary purposes if you’d like a preview.” He tells you as he scrolls through his phone. “I thought I’d ask as I’m against sending unsolicited dick pics to women I’ve just met.”

“That implies you’ve sent some to women you do know in the past.” You tease and you swear you can feel the blush creeping across his cheeks as he clears his throat.

“I can neither confirm or deny…”

“Some would consider it a form of art.” You say as you survey the images he’s just sent you. There’s some real creativity going on in these pictures, you’ve never seen such a variation of cocks. You wonder if you should be putting together some sort of art installation.

“Like your life modelling?” He prompts and you tune back into the conversation.

“Does that bother you?” You ask him. “That other people see me naked on a regular basis?”

It’s been a source of contention with most of your previous partners. They don’t understand that life modelling isn’t about sex, it’s about the art form, about providing a subject for students to learn from, to develop. It’s not a job for just anybody, you have to be comfortable with yourself, sociable enough to put the artists at ease especially in the beginning stages of their journey.

“No.” He says and you can tell he means it. “You have a beautiful body.”

It’s your turn to blush.

“Do you want to come over tonight?” You ask him and he hesitates.

“Yes.” He says finally. “But I think we should wait for that dinner and a movie.”

You read between the lines.

I want to fuck you, but I want to date you too.

“Tomorrow night.” You say as you scroll through your phone searching for the movie listings. “I’m free tomorrow night.”

Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#david hale #david hale x reader #deputy chief david hale #soa

[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 12

Home Remedy/Old Wives Tale

After practice yesterday, you had been absolutely drained. It was a bit odd, seeing as it was a relatively easy practice, but you hadn’t slept well the night before. Magda and Pernille had picked up on your lack of energy seemingly before you did, and they quickly took you home after practice. 

It didn’t take much coaxing from the women for you to regress, and they gave you a short bath before putting you down for a nap. Somewhat unusually, you didn’t wake up after your normal 90 minutes. Which meant that, as much as your moms hated it, they needed to wake you up lest you throw off the sleep schedules of everyone in the house. 

They might have been mean to wake you up, but they weren’t cruel, so they didn’t turn the lights on. Instead, Magda opened one of the curtains, allowing the sun that managed to break through the clouds into the room. Pernille walks over to your crib, lowering the railing slightly and admiring you for a moment. You were soundly asleep, laying on your stomach with your cheek pressed against the mattress. Your mouth was slightly open, your pacifier having slipped out. 

Once Magda had joined her, Pernille leaned down, scratching your back and murmuring quietly. Slowly, you begin to wake up, shifting to look up to your moms. It was one of their favorite sights, watching you blink sleepily as you tried to adjust to the light with wild bedhead and a small line of dried drool down your chin. It was, frankly, adorable. 

Not fully awake, you lift your arms up and babbled a “mamama” sound. This was a sure sign that you had really regressed, much too small to be bothered with words. You were also much too small to be bothered with telling the difference between Mama and Mummy, as long as someone held you, you would be fine. 

Magda quickly scoops you up, smirking at Pernille as you hide your face in her neck. She bounces lightly, humming lowly. You’re so warm and so sleepy that you almost fall back asleep right there, but Magda can feel your body relaxing into her as you fall asleep and she pulls your head out of your cave. 

Your fussing is quickly stopped when Pernille slips a pacifier past your lips, and you begin rhythmically suckling on it. Magda makes quick work of laying you down and changing you quickly, placing kisses on your belly. What usually caused you to giggle hysterically only caused you to swat slightly with your hand. You were too uncoordinated to actually make contact with her, but you got your point across. Pernille laughs at the offended face Magda makes as she plants one more kiss and pulls away. 

“A grumpy little girl today, huh?” she asks, wiggling your hips slightly. 

You whine, and Pernille reaches in to rescue you. 

“Your Mama’s being quite a meanie, isn’t she?” she asks, scooping you up and pretending to shield you from Magda, “she should know that it’s not nice to bother someone who just woke up.”

The rest of the evening was rather mundane. You were cranky and clingy, not a combination your mothers loved, so they entertained you for a few hours, fed you some dinner, and then put you to bed. 

—-

Again, your mothers were standing by your nursery door, confused as to why you were still asleep. They decide to check on you, pushing the door open and walking to stand by the crib. 

Magda pauses for a moment before she moves the crib railing down, sniffing. 

“She’s sick,” she says with certainty.

Pernille looks at her like she’s crazy, “what?”

“She’s sick,” Magda repeats, as if that answers everything. 

“And how do you know that?”

“Can you not smell her fever?” Magda asks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“What are you talking about? That’s not a thing.”

“No, it’s true. A mother’s gift, she can smell a fever.”

“Honestly, love, that’s an old wives tale,” Pernille says exasperatedly, “she’s fine, look at her. She’s just sleeping.”

“Go get a thermometer,” Magda says challengingly, “she’s got a fever.”

Pernille leaves, quickly returning with the thermometer. 

“When this proves she has a normal temperature, you’re in charge of cooking breakfast and cleaning up,” Pernille says, powering the thermometer on. 

“Deal,” Magda agrees, “and when she does have a fever, you’re in charge of all of that while I get to cuddle the poorly baby.”

Pernille slides the thermometer under your arm so as not to disturb your sleep. Once it beeps, she pulls it out. The two women look at the red number on the screen, frowning. 

“Does this make you a better Mama than me?” Pernille asks, “I didn’t even know she was sick.”

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s just a superpower I have,” Magda insists, “now, you might want to get started on breakfast. I’m thinking eggs, and just a bottle for the babe.”

Pernille rolls her eyes jokingly, walking to the door. When she notices that Magda isn’t following her, she turns around. 

“Coming?”

“No, I’m going to stay with Y/N/N. We’ll take breakfast in bed,” she winks. 

With this, Magda settles in the comfortable rocking chair in the room, kicking her legs up onto the matching ottoman and closing her eyes. 

#woso imagine #womens soccer #woso imagines #reader insert #woso x reader #woso #chelsea fc #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder #woso soccer #woso fanfics