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#also ?? benches are so hard to draw ????
von-karmas-a-bitch · 10 months
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something you have to know about me is that i am obsessed with the unexplored dynamic between franziska and sebastian after the events of investigations 2. another thing you have to know about me is that sometimes i write ace attorney scripts in my notes app for funsies. and yet another thing you must know about me is that i am a trans sebastian truther first and a human being second
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(transcript in alt text)
#obsessed with the idea of franziska learning the hard way what patience and kindness is required to be an older sibling#and thus becoming more (silently) apprecative of what miles has done for her#and also learning things about herself via sebastian asking her when no one else will bc they're scared of her#bc sebastian is kinda clueless and very curious and he looks up to her a lot and he just has so!! many!!! questions!!!!#btdubs if someone wants to draw this and @ me i would love that. bc i do not have the energy to draw this whole exchange#ace attorney#my scripts#aai2#sebastian debeste#franziska von karma#oh btw fun fact that drawing i did with sebastian saying ''the prostitution is ready your honour'' was originally gonna also have franziska#i didn't have the energy to draw anymore but she was gonna be behind the prosecutor's bench with him with her head buried in her hands#and it was gonna be a short comic where when informed of their mistake sebastian was gonna start freaking out#internally being like ''oh jeez i messed up already...... maybe i can't do this...........'' and franziska was gonna Notice That#and be like ''you only made one little mistake sebastian debeste it's not the end of the world now present your argument''#and then she catches herself saying that and starts having her own existential crisis#bc she just admitted to herself that it's ok to not be perfect#and sebastian's like ''ohhhh you're right i can DO this!!''#and franziska realises that she's become the kind of mentor she needed as a kid and she has broken the cycle of abuse#and she watches sebastian absolutely SLAY in the courtroom (malapropisms notwithstanding)#so yea that drawing is actually also part of this concept where franziska becomes a mentor to sebastian#edit: oh god tumblr really fucked up the quality on this one sorry#maybe use the alt text if you're struggling to read
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sucktacular · 1 year
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friendly reminder that if you wanna draw you should draw because I wanna see it and reblog it and eat it so it'll be with me forever
you MADE something!!! that straight up DIDNT exist before??? that's so incredibly metal and amazing and sick as fuck im so proud of you
#i dont care you 'skill level' or whatever nonsense#YOU DID THAT!!!#and my god you should be so proud because I am#i should get magnets to print out ppls art and put on my mini mini fridge that only holds like 4 cans of soda#but like esp if youre in you're 20s??? LATE 20'S???? PAST YOUR 20s???? HOLY SHIT IM SOO SO PROUD OF YOU#cuz its so so hard to get yourself to make and create after youre a kid or a teen#esp if you never really fostered that creativity as a young person#like you DID that you mADE that youre so so amazing#this also applies to writing and crafts and anything where you made something#like ive struggled for a long long time to like my art let alone want to make art but listen listen listen#everytime you make something it gets easier to make it again#you dont have to compare yourself you dont have to strive to draw like whoever#the secret is everyone wants their arts to look better or be better or easier even the really really talented professionals#we are learning creatures no one is perfect and its so so beautiful that that is a thing cuz like#i dont want to see beautiful rendered sistene chapel paintings everyday!!!#like theyre great and im in awe but i could be in awe and enjoying art jim bob down the street doodled on a bench#i see my partner doodle in my notebooks when they make phone calls and are on hold and i think its so beautiful#its just shapes but like they were there and they did that and I didnt? its beautiful and fun and reminds me they were there#you are here and im so glad you are because we get to enjoy things and create and love and just exist#life is hard and we created a society that can be so cynical and were so busy all the time#but i love us i love people i want so badly to love us all because we are different and dont always agree but we create and we exist#and i think thats enough at the end of the day. to just exist.#so you made a lil doodle? i want to see it because ive never seen it before and i think its so awesome genuinely that you did that#sucktacular sucks
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year
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Whiz Comics (1940) #49
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komediebrvte · 1 year
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wip :]]]
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girasollake · 5 months
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Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.
She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date
Thank youuu!
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✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧
(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )
this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x
told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!
warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it
i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.
‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’
‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’
¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.
‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.
‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’
‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.
SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’
You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.
‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.
‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’
Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.
You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.
‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.
‘Of course.’ You smiled.
‘I have a question.’
‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘
‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’
‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’
‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.
Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.
‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.
‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.
‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’
‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.
‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.
‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.
‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’
‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.
‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.
His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.
He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’
You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’
His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.
‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’
‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.
He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.
‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’
The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.
He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.
He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.
‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.
‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.
‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’
‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.
‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.
You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’
‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.
Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.
‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.
He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.
‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.
His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.
‘I lied.’ You mumbled.
‘What?’
‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’
‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’
‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’
‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’
‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’
‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
@ girasollake 2024
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edenesth · 5 months
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The Captain's Favourite
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Pairing: captain!Hongjoong x doctor!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series | Hongjoong | Seonghwa | Yunho | Yeosang | San | Mingi | Wooyoung | Jongho |
ATEEZ Masterlist
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Struggling to steady your laboured breath, you pressed a trembling hand against the stab wound beneath your chest. Blinking rapidly, you attempted to regain clarity in your vision. From what you could discern, it seemed like the injury might not involve a vital organ, offering a glimmer of reassurance.
However, the stark reality hit hard – you were the sole medical professional on board.
You were always the one attending to the health of your fellow crewmates and never the one in need of medical attention. That all changed abruptly during the unexpected ambush launched by a rival pirate crew.
They strategically targeted a crucial member of the crew before escalating the assault further. The rationale was clear – if the ship's only medical personnel was incapacitated, who would attend to the wounded? Save for the captain, you were the next most important person on the vessel.
But the enemy was also aware you were so much more than just a doctor, "There she is, Captain Hongjoong's favourite. Get her," were the chilling words that you heard before feeling the sharp pain of a dagger piercing your abdomen.
The duration of the battle became a haze, with moments of consciousness slipping in and out as you observed, through blurred vision, your crewmates fighting back fiercely to defend your ship and all the treasures within.
The fight finally ended when your captain impaled the rival leader directly in the heart. Hongjoong, visibly exhausted, let out a weary exhale as he dropped his sword, "Take him and go, the rest of you. If you don't wish to join him in the afterlife." He commanded.
The rival pirates hastily moved to remove their leader's lifeless form from your ship without having to be told twice. It took no time for Captain Hongjoong to scan the surroundings anxiously, his heart racing as he searched for you.
"Wh-where is she—"
Before he could finish the sentence, he noticed what seemed to be your boots tucked away in a corner, cleverly concealed behind barrels. The enemy had evidently gone to great lengths to ensure you wouldn't be discovered until it was too late.
Without wasting a moment, he sprinted towards you, pushing all the obstacles out of his way with newfound strength fueled by desperation. His eyes widened, feeling his heart lurch at the sight of the red staining your shirt and your pale complexion.
"No, no, no, no, no, don't you dare leave me!" Hongjoong screamed, gently pulling you into his arms, "Hey, look at me. I'm your captain, and I order you not to close your eyes."
However, no amount of commanding could mend your injuries, and he was acutely aware of that fact. Time blurred as he urgently directed his crew to transport you to the nearest town without delay. Losing you was not an option he was willing to entertain.
Drawing on his experience from observing you tend to injured crewmates countless times, the captain applied pressure and bandaged your wound to minimise the bleeding until you could receive proper medical treatment.
Upon arriving at the closest town, you were swiftly taken to a medical facility, where Hongjoong fought to catch his breath as they gently took you from his arms, "Don't worry, we'll take care of her," He gave the medical staff a firm glare, "You better."
The nurse nodded nervously, motioning for him to wait by the available bench. Everyone in the facility recognised him; it was the very place he had taken you away from many years ago. As a woman, you had been denied the chance to prove yourself despite being an apprentice there.
That changed the day Hongjoong arrived, bloodied and in need of help.
With all the doctors unavailable, you, the only trainee present, seized the opportunity to showcase your skills by treating the pirate captain.
While he rested after you tended to his injury, Hongjoong overheard a conversation between you and your superior. Rather than receiving praise for your competent work, you were berated for not adhering to the rules and taking matters into your own hands.
Enraged by what he heard, he proposed taking you in as the crew doctor. Despite being aware of his pirate status, you agreed because no one had recognised and acknowledged your skills the way he did.
As time passed, you'd grown to harbour feelings for one another. Though neither of you openly admitted to them, the entire crew was well aware of the captain's undeniable affection for you. They often wondered when Hongjoong would muster the courage to confess.
You were used to him always watching out for you; he would go to great lengths, even pretending to be unwell just to stay near you. He'd reprimand other crewmates for inconveniencing you with their minor issues; a total hypocrite himself. It was hard for you to not realise the fact that he was clearly favouring you, especially when everyone aboard has been calling you 'the captain's favourite' since day one.
Except he would always be in denial whenever teased about it, despite his actions proving completely otherwise.
Now, waiting anxiously, he regretted not revealing his feelings sooner. The thought of you potentially dying without knowing his love haunted him. Reflecting on missed opportunities, he questioned why he hadn't uttered those three words earlier. What was holding him back? What was he so afraid of?
After what felt like an eternity, he was finally allowed to see you. Entering the room where you rested, he held his breath until relief flooded over him at the sight of your chest rising and falling steadily. He sat beside you, gently holding your hand to his face and pressing his lips against your palm, "Oh, thank god, you're okay."
Tears streamed down his face silently, oblivious to the fact that you'd awakened to his sobs. You smiled weakly, moving your fingers to wipe his wet cheeks, "Who would've thought? The mighty Captain Hongjoong is crying for me."
His head shot up immediately, a tearful chuckle escaping him and he nodded, "That's right. Do you see the power you have over me?" Taking a deep breath, he decided it was now or never, "I love you so much, you know that? You mean the world to me."
You nodded, "I love you too, captain. Thought you'd never admit it."
Leaning in, he kissed your lips softly, "I'll tell you I love you every day now if I have to. And I refuse to let anything like this happen again. You're moving to my quarters at once."
If you thought he was joking, you were mistaken. Things were about to change drastically. Consider yourself promoted from crew doctor to the captain's most valuable treasure, as if you weren't already.
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Now that we have Prince San, General Seonghwa, and Captain Hongjoong, I'm still contemplating what other roles to assign to the rest of the members.
Anyway, really hope you're all enjoying these imagines. Thanks for reading, and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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waywardangel-wilds · 14 days
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Peeta is always open to drawing or painting anything for Katniss and she's frequently taken him up on it. It's usually not that difficult for him, he loves the chance to paint, to refine his skills. Katniss loves having not only a reminder of certain memories but also a physical representation of Peeta's enduring and almost quiet love for her. And it's easy. Natural. That is until Katniss looks at Peeta one day and asks, "Would you do a self-portrait for me?"
That's hard for him. The sketches are never quite right, the colors are off. Katniss doesn't ever nitpick at his paintings, and she isn't being unkind or anything, but she always looks at the drafts with an uncertain expression only to say, "Somethings not right, Peeta."
Peeta gets frustrated. Why can't he just do this painting? He asks Katniss what is off about the sketches, and it's always a thousand little things. His eyes aren't that severe. He's supposed to have freckles there. His mouth is softer in real life. His hair doesn't curl like that. His expression is off. He can never seem to get it right. What is it about this painting?
They're lying on the couch one day when Katniss says, "Maybe you just can't see yourself the way I do."
That makes him curious. How does she see him? They start trying to figure that out. He says that she should describe his face to him as if he were a plant for the book, and maybe they could arrive somewhere accurate.
Katniss finds it a little funny, even odd, he's himself. He has to be more familiar with his own face than she is, but she humors him. They sit down in his studio together and begin.
It becomes an exercise in getting to know her, somehow, on a level that he hadn't explored before. She spends a long time talking about the shape of his eyes, the fan of his eyelashes, and the color of his irises. Her cheeks stain with embarrassment, and his heart knocks against his ribs, trying to escape, maybe even trying to reach out to her.
She has something to say about details he'd never even thought of before. The angle of his chin, the exact colour of his hair. She has descriptions that don't make much sense to him too. His smile is like spring and his scars are like marigolds. When given time, Katniss ends up arranging a whole bouquet of wildflowers with her descriptions.
He loves her. He already knew that. Heck, people on the other side of the country already knew that, but he'd had no idea, somehow, he still had no idea the depth of Katniss's devotion. It's beautiful and seemingly never-ending and it fills his own heart with joy.
They create the portrait together, after many hours spent alone. It's a painting of his own face, yet, it holds a deep intimacy and he can't seem to look at it without smiling and blushing like a fool. He doesn't think of it as his, even if it's a painting of himself, the painting is wholly Katniss's. He presents it to her when he's finished and Katniss smiles warmly, looking down at it with such affection. She hangs it in the hall, near the bench where she keeps her arrows so she can look at it when she leaves every morning and when she comes back home. That part of the house is very private, he doesn't even really go there that often, so it feels special. To know that Katniss wanted to bring him there with her, in her own way.
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fayes-fics · 2 months
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Vignette
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: An artist meet-cute in the park.
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Warnings: none... this is the fluffiest of fluff
Word Count: 1.2k
Authors Note: Anon request fill (see HERE) about Benedict and an artist having a meet-cute in the park. Unbetaed. I hope you enjoy this, Nonny, and sorry it has taken so many months! <3
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A wooden toy hoop whooshing inches from your knee interrupts your quiet refuge amid the flower gardens of Regents Park, breaking your intense concentration on your drawing and almost dropping your charcoal.
Seconds later, a pretty young girl of maybe eleven years old comes running after the errant object, her plaited hair bouncing, her blush pink dress swishing around her knees as she calls out an apology to you and retrieves the hoop from the nearby bush.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her face a picture of impish inquisition as she wanders back to your bench.
“I am drawing,” you smile benevolently; something about her mischievous spirit reminds you of your nieces.
“What are you drawing?” her grin somehow infectious.
“You see those roses there?” you point with your charcoal to a nearby white alba maxima rose bush, stems almost bowing under the weight of the heavily ruffled peach-tipped petals. “Those are in peak bloom, and I am attempting to capture them, their ephemeral beauty...”
“Are you any good?” 
You chuckle at her youthful bluntness, but just as you are tilting your work towards her, you are interrupted by a man rounding into this same quiet corner. 
“Hyacinth! Please refrain from injuring and bother…” his refined voice begins to chastise but suddenly grinds to a halt mid-sentence as soon as he catches sight of you.
But he is not the only one who has lost the power of speech. 
Something vaults hard in your stomach like you are plunging down an invisible chasm. He is handsome in a way you have never seen before in your twenty years on this earth: tall, with a strong jaw and a dandyish colourful outfit that fits him very well. 
There are a few moments where all you do is stare at each other, lips parted, before he appears to shake himself a fraction and bows his head in polite greeting.
“Where are my manners? I would like to apologise for my little sister almost causing you injury, Miss. The fault is entirely mine; I should not have let her play quite so spiritedly in a public park. I-I hope you are not injured?”
“N-Not at all; the hoop merely brushed my skirt. I am more than fine,” you assure hurriedly. “Mr….?”
“Bridgerton,” he offers, nodding to you in a more formal greeting.
You would know that name anywhere—one of the most esteemed families of the Ton. You instantly know he is not the Viscount, having seen him at society events, so you surmise this must be one of his younger brothers. Before you can offer your name, however, he speaks again. 
“You draw?” 
“Oh.. yes, yes… I-I do,” you stumble, a little taken aback by his question, even as you feel his sister’s gaze volleying between the two of you with a bemused expression.
“I draw too,” he explains, placing a hand over his sternum, the sunlight catching upon a signet ring on his little finger. 
“Oh…” you seem inordinately pleased to share such a hobby with this virtual stranger.
“I also know well that charcoal fingers are an occupational hazard..” he adds cordially as he catches you attempting to wipe the dark smears upon your hands with a rag. “May I see your work? If it is not too impudent of me to ask,” he adds modestly.
“I-I am not very good…” you fret, looking down at the partial image you see on your sketch pad. “Tis merely a pastime I use to escape…”
“Believe me, Miss…?”
“Y/l/n.”
“Believe me, Miss y/l/n, it is very much the case for me too - being that I am one of eight. Including such trouble-makers as this one,” he rolls his eyes affectionately as he signals to Hyacinth, who seems to be rapidly losing interest, distractedly spinning the hoop she holds. “Escaping is almost a full-time hobby for me…” 
You cannot help but giggle at his droll humour, and he seems delighted, his face lighting up as you hide a mild blush behind the back of your hand.
“May I?” his ask is so soft you cannot do anything but acquiesce.
“‘Tis just a small vignette…” you excuse meekly as you hand over your sketchpad, suddenly so nervous to hear his opinion. You have never shared your drawings with anyone before, but something about his affable demeanour makes you bold enough to do so.
He is quiet for some time. It feels like an age, even though it is likely only a matter of seconds, but still long enough that butterflies start to roil in your stomach.
“I did say it is just a hobby…” you titter nervously, looking away.
“It is beautiful…” he exhales quietly, tone filled with admiration as your eyes ping back to him.
Your heart flutters as he extols the virtues of your work, effusively admiring your use of shading to capture shadows and the lines you have used to denote the multitudinous layers of petals, his gracious hand gesturing over the picture as he speaks.
“You flatter me entirely too much, Mr Bridgerton…” you demure, even as you feel yourself blooming under his praise, just like the flower you have painstakingly attempted to capture. A warmth in your chest that seems to radiate out to glow all over.
“I assure you I do not,” he smiles, handing you back your sketch pad.
“Benedict,” Hyacinth whines, stamping her little boot on the grass, “you said we would play…”
“I do not wish to interrupt your family time,” you placate, pleased you have learned his first name.
“Hyacinth, I am sure Eloise said something about sandwiches; you want lunch, do you not?” Benedict responds, raising a pointed brow.
“Well, yes, but…”
“Run along then,” he pulls an exasperated face at her that again has you giggling, making a shooing gesture with his hands.
She sighs but departs with a dramatic flounce.
“Sadly, I must also depart; a family picnic indeed awaits. But if I may be so bold, I would very much like for us to meet again. If you would be amendable? With a chaperone, of course,” he adds hurriedly, keen to be gentlemanly. “I think perhaps we would have much to speak of… around art. And perhaps we could… draw together? Here?”
His proposal, so sweet and straightforward, has you rendered speechless again, heart leaping at the very thought.
“I…I would like that very much,” your honest confession out of your mouth before you can swallow it.
“As would I,” his response instant, his face beaming. “Would you be here, perchance, Thursday afternoon around this same time?”
“I would…” The hitch of excitement in your own voice unmistakable.
“Excellent!” his hazy blue eyes seem to dance in the sunlight as he respectfully tilts his head again. “I am so looking forward to it, Miss y/l/n…” are his parting words before he takes his leave.
“As am I, Mr Bridgerton…” you murmur belatedly, the words shared only with the fragrant roses surrounding you, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.
Your stare lingers where he stood long after he has left, an excited buzz over your skin at the thought you have met a kindred, artistic spirit. And one so very handsome, too.
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katelynnwrites · 3 months
Text
Teeny Tiny But Oh So Protective | Sydney Lohmann x Child!Reader
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warnings: brief mentions of injury
word count: 2140
summary: you've never had a habit of biting but you are protective enough of your Tante Syd that it draws a first from you
a/n: requested and part of Sydney's Little Liebe
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To your Momma’s thankfulness, you’ve never really had a biting phase.
Sure you have bitten her a couple times while nursing, when your teeth had first started growing in but it had never been intentional.
In fact, you’ve never bitten anyone on purpose until Obi.
It seems that your protectiveness over your Tante Syd would be enough to draw a first from you.
******
As is your routine on game days, you settle yourself on the bench, dressed in Tante’s home jersey and your special gameday hair ribbons.
You take turns wearing your Momma’s jersey and Tante Syd’s jerseys. Sometimes you wear your other Tantes’ jerseys, when you can be bribed by them to do so but today is Tante’s turn.
Tante Lea is being rested today so you curl happily into her side.
It’s cold so you burrow yourself there, seeking warmth.
Tante Lea laughs, finding a blanket and covering you with it.
The blanket is big and you giggle, amusing yourself by ducking under it and playing a game of peek a boo with Tante Tuva and Tante Lea.
By the time the novelty of it has worn off and you let the blanket be wrapped around you properly, it is almost halftime.
You like halftimes because you get a special sippy cup of juice and someone is always willing to pick you up and let you sit in their lap
Before you were three fingers old, you used to get a special sippy cup of milk.
Now milk is only for bedtime.
Tante Klara has you in her lap today and you happily drink from your special sippy cup as Coach talks.
He talks a lot but you’re content to remain in Tante Klara’s lap. She helps you to hold your sippy cup steady and you keep drinking until it’s empty.
Then you slide onto the floor and play with the laces on her boots until it is time to go back out.
Right before that though, Tante Captain Glo scoops you up onto her hip.
‘Any words of advice?’
You think hard for a minute.
‘Don’t lose. It’s not good to not win against the green team.’ You say with finality.
There’s a lot of laughter and Tante Syd takes you from Tante Captain Glo.
You cling eagerly and tightly to her like a koala.
She is a bit sticky but you don’t care. She’s your favourite Tante and you like hugging her.
Momma kisses your forehead and you giggle.
‘Wise words Little Liebe. We’ll do our best not to lose to Wolfsburg.’
Leaning close to your Tante Syd, you kiss her cheek.
Then you do the same for your Momma.
‘Good luck kisses.’ You cheer and they both giggle.
Tante Syd sets you down on the ground and Momma takes one of your hands in hers.
Your Tante Syd takes your other hand in hers and you walk back out, in between the two most important people in your life.
They entrust you to Tante Tuva and you sit back down at the bench with her.
The game goes on and you excitedly watch your Tantes play.
Some of your other Tantes are wearing green and playing against your Momma and Tante Syd.
You think you like it better when they are all playing together for your Germany instead.
But Momma promises you that you can get ice cream with all your Tantes after the game and you like that too.
You don’t always get ice cream after games, only the ‘big’ ones as Momma puts them.
How games can be big or small when they’re all played on the same green grass is something you do not understand.
But winning big games means ice cream and that is always good.
So you really hope Momma wins today.
Standing up on your seat so you can see better, you watch eagerly as your Tantes play.
The higher vantage point also gives you a perfect view of Tante Obi tackling your Tante Syd and making her fall. She tumbles to the ground and rolls a couple times before stopping.
You can hear your Tante Syd cry out and you scream.
It’s lucky that Tante Tuva has her arms tightly around your waist because you would have run onto the pitch otherwise.
Tante Syd doesn’t get up and you push at Tante Tuva’s arms.
‘Let go! Let go!’ You insist, voice growing louder with every word.
Tante Sam comes over, her arms wrapping around your waist too and you tremble.
‘Let go! I have to go! Have to see my Tante Syd!’
‘I’m sorry but you can’t do that now okay? I know you’re worried but I promise you the medical staff are taking very good care of Tante Syd.’ Tante Sam reassures.
You tiptoe to see if she’s right but you can’t see over the heads of everyone surrounding your favourite Tante.
What you do know is that she’s still on the ground and that means she isn’t okay.
Your bottom lip starts to wobble, Tante Sam lifting you onto her hip the second she notices.
‘Hey she will be alright. See? Your Momma is with her now…’
Tante Sam is right about the second part. There’s a gap among the medical staff and you can see her holding Tante Syd’s hand.
Momma once told you that Tante Syd needs to be extra careful because she’s unlucky with injuries.
You don’t like that Tante Obi is making it worse by not helping Tante Syd be careful.
Sniffling, you grip onto Tante Sam tightly.
Tante Sam’s heart goes out to you and she holds you close. Your tiny body is shaking with fear and uncertainty and she just wants to make you feel better.
You feel this icky emotion bubble up when Tante Obi gets up and walks away, completely fine by the looks of it.
You hate it. It is unfair that she does not have an ouchie while your Tante Syd does. Tante Obi was the one who made your Tante fall down so why is she not hurt too?
Still shaking slightly in Tante Sam’s embrace, you watch as Tante Syd slowly gets up, your Momma on one side and Tante Klara on her other.
They help her get to the white lines that Momma said are called sidelines.
There, the medical staff take over and she walks funny to the bench.
Tante Georgia goes on in her place.
As soon as she sits down with a wince, Tante Sam lets you go and you run over to her.
‘Hi Little Liebe.’ She breathes.
‘Tante.’ You cry.
You want to hug her but you don’t want to hurt her even more.
Salty tears stream down your face as you panic at the sight of the ice pack someone hands your Tante, for her knee.
‘Hey it’s okay. Come here Little Liebe. It’s okay.’ She coaxes.
Gingerly, you approach her and climb up onto the empty seat beside her.
‘I’m okay. It’s just a bit of an ouchie.’
You stare at her unconvinced and she holds out her arms.
‘Really Little Liebe. Though I know that your hugs will make me feel better.’ She promises.
You gently hug her and when she doesn’t look to be in any more pain, hug her as tightly as you can.
As you bury your face in your Tante Syd’s chest, Tante Sam quietly tells her, ‘She was terrified when you went down.’
From the way you refuse to let go of your Tante Syd, she knows that Tante Sam isn’t exaggerating.
‘It’s just an ouchie. A couple ice packs and some rest will fix it. I’m okay Little Liebe.’ She whispers, to calm you down.
You whimper into her jersey and she strokes the back of your head lightly.
‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’
Your Tante holds out her pinky and you draw your head out of her jersey, completing the pinky swear by shaking your pinky with hers.
Then you stick to her side for the rest of the game.
You don’t even watch the game, simply focusing on how the medical staff checks on Tante Syd.
They let you help them tape the ice pack to her knee.
Tante holds your hand after that, knowing that your emotions are still settling down and you need reassurance.
If she is entirely honest though, your hand in hers is also helping her deal with her bruised knee.
She knows she will have to get an MRI scan and anxiously hopes it will just be precautionary.
So as to not risk pushing her injury even further, she remains seated on the bench when the full time whistle blows.
‘Hey meine Little Liebe, Tante’s got to stay here because of her knee but you can go to your Momma if you want.’
‘No. I stay with you.’
You’re adamant, clinging to her tightly so your Tante knows that the chances of you taking her suggestion are practically zero.
She’s happy to sit there with you anyway.
For the most part, you’re content to stay curled into her side. That is, until Tante Obi appears.
Then you stiffen abruptly.
Your Tante Syd has noticed but Tante Obi hasn’t.
She keeps coming closer and faster than Tante Syd can move, you’re jumping off the bench and towards Tante Obi.
You have always gotten along with Tante Obi but it’s clear that you do not now because you sink your teeth into her hand.
It is only for a moment and Tante Obi yelps, more in surprise than pain.
She cradles her hand to her chest and Tante Syd catches you when you run back to her, her eyes wide with disbelief.
‘Little Liebe! We don’t bite!’
Your Momma has always said you get your stubborn streak from Tante Syd but your favourite Tante has never really seen it till now.
There’s this look she can’t quite place on your face and you stay in her hold.
‘I bite!’ You insist.
‘No. Biting is not nice. We don’t bite our friends.’ Tante Syd firmly tells you.
You shoot Tante Obi an angry look, ‘Not my friend, I bite!’
She hovers and your Tante Syd realises she’s not going to get anywhere with you like this.
She has never seen this side of you and while she has not been dating your Momma long, knows that she has to try setting boundaries with you if she plans on being in your life permanently.
‘Little Liebe, can you tell me why you’re saying Tante Obi is not your friend?’
‘Because she hurt you. She gave you an ouchie!’
You begin to sob, thinking about your Tante Syd on the ground again.
‘Go away Tante Obi!’ You demand fiercely, trying your best to protect Tante Syd from her.
You love your Tante Syd and you need to keep her safe, away from Tante Obi who might hurt her again.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your Tante Syd. It was an accident.’ Tante Obi tries.
She bends down to your level but you glare at her and flinch back towards Tante Syd.
Tante Syd carefully explains, ‘Little Liebe, sometimes in football, we can get hurt. It’s never on purpose.’
‘Not on purpose?’
Tante Obi moves close and softly elaborates, ‘An accident. I would never hurt Tante Syd intentionally. She’s my friend.’
You glance back at your favourite Tante. Tante Obi looks so sincere and sounds so honest that you believe her but you want to see what Tante Syd thinks.
She nods at you encouragingly and you somewhat reluctantly say, ‘Okay. We can be friends again…but only if you say sorry to Tante Syd! Her knee hurts.’
Tante Obi looks back up at your Tante Syd, doing as you ask, ‘I’m so sorry Sydney. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘No worries. I know that it was an accident.’
She emphasises the last word for your benefit and it works, getting you to finally calm down properly.
‘Little Liebe, now that Tante Obi has apologised to me for giving me an ouchie, you need to apologise to her for giving her an ouchie. We don’t bite to show our feelings, we talk about them with big girl words.’
You frown but do it.
‘I’m sorry Tante Obi. I won’t bite you again…if you won’t hurt my Tante Syd again.’
Tante Obi giggles a little, ‘I won’t. Then we can remain friends.’
Your frown changes into a smile, ‘Okay. I like being friends with you.’
Tante Obi smiles with you, ‘I like being friends with you too.’
******
Later Obi will warn everyone else, to never tackle Sydney without risking your wrath. She’ll show the tiny bite mark on her finger as proof, even as her fellow players laugh.
Your protectiveness over your favourite Tante is well known after that.
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German Translations:
tante - aunty
meine Little Liebe - my Little Love
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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months
Text
falling is easy, catching is hard
rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖
💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
December 19, 1985
Steve Harrington needed sleep.
Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.
But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.
“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”
“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.
“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”
Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.
Steve didn’t have one.
Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.
But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”
“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”
Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.
Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.
That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.
“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.
“The sleeping pills make them worse.”
“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.
“The nightmares.”
Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.
“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.
“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”
Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.
“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”
Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.
“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”
“Um. What?”
“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.
Steve was going to regret this.
God, he was so stupid.
“Yeah, okay.”
Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.
— — — — — — —
January 16, 1986
“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.
Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.
Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.
And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.
“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.
Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.
Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.
“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.
“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”
“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”
He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.
“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.
What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?
“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.
Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.
He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.
“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.
“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”
Steve wasn’t reading into that.
“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”
“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”
Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.
He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.
Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.
“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.
“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”
Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”
“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.
“Ever shotgunned before?”
Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.
“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”
Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.
Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.
And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.
Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.
“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.
Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.
Close enough to want to be closer.
“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”
“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”
Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.
“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”
“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”
It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.
Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.
Steve couldn’t breathe.
But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.
His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.
He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.
He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.
Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.
He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.
It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.
It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.
Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.
“Good?” Eddie asked.
Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.
But Steve wanted to kiss him.
Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.
Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.
So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.
“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.
“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”
“No, I-”
“Steve. You’re high.”
His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.
He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.
Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.
But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.
“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.
Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.
Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.
“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”
“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”
They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.
“Wha-?”
“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”
Steve’s brows furrowed.
Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.
“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.
Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
— — — — — — —
February 14, 1986
Steve got him flowers.
He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.
By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’
And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.
He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.
Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.
Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.
As if that could ever be an option.
This was his last chance, though.
He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.
Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.
The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.
“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”
“I said I’d bring you flowers.”
He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.
Like he was trying not to smile.
Like maybe Steve did something right.
“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.
Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.
He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.
Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.
Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.
“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”
“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.
“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”
“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”
“That’s what Wayne said, but-”
“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”
Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.
“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”
Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”
Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”
“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”
“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”
“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.
Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.
But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.
“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”
“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.
“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?
Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.
Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.
But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.
650 notes · View notes
geminiwritten · 1 year
Text
undercover ; billy butcher
fandom: the boys
pairing: billy x reader
summary: you have to go undercover as butcher’s wife to vought’s annual supe celebration - prompt (that i don’t remember where i saw it, i’m sorry!): “I bet you one hundred dollars that you’re hard right now.” *he stands up and drops $100 on the table*
notes: i wrote this in one day and you can tell!!! it’s so rushed, i’m so sorry, but also i’m just hot for this man and refuse to stop??? let me know what you think!
warnings: swearing, very small alcohol consumption, very light smut, and a bit of harassment from an unwelcome dude
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word count: 6496
“You have a thing for Butcher?” Hughie gasps, the apartment door swinging open as he steps inside.
Annie’s eyes grow wide, her hand covering her mouth to try and hide her cheeky smile. You scowl at her before turning to Hughie, his face a comical mixture of disgust and amusement.
“What have I said about eavesdropping on movie night, Hubert?” you demand, calling him by the stupid nickname you know he hates.
He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I texted Annie to say I was on my way home. It’s not my fault you’re practically shouting about the fact that you want to fu-”
“Hughie,” Annie giggles, “be careful.”
“Hey,” he says, turning to her, “I’m just repeating what I heard.”
You hold your face in your hands and groan, sinking back into the soft couch cushions and praying that they might open up and swallow you into a different dimension.
“I’m sorry,” Annie sighs, “I honestly just lost track of time.”
Hughie drops his keys and wallet on the kitchen bench alongside two plastic bags that wreak of cheap Chinese food. Your stomach grumbles at the smell, and you reluctantly pull yourself off the couch before dragging your feet toward the kitchen.
“So,” Hughie says with a grin, “how long has this been going on then?”
“Nothing is going on,” you state, “and it’s certainly none of your business.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone,” he begins helping you unpack the bags of food, “besides, I had a sneaking suspicion. You do kind of look at him like-”
You pull a butterknife out of the draw and point it at him, “Like what?”
He freezes, his hands flying up on either side of his head in surrender.
Annie laughs again, “Okay, you two, cut it out.”
You put the knife down and retrieve three full sets of cutlery before setting a stack of bowls beside the containers of food. Hughie serves himself first before Annie fills her own bowl and you last, already shovelling mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth as you move back toward the couch.
“You know,” Hughie says between mouthfuls, “if you wanted to talk about it, I might be able to help.”
You scoff, “Yeah? How?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know, talk to him.”
“And say what?” you drop your fork into your bowl, mocking Hughie’s voice as you say, “Hey Butcher, do you think Y/N is hot, because I know she dreams about fucking you.”
He scowls at you, “I can be subtle.”
Annie giggles, hiding her face behind her bowl as Hughie casts his glare toward her.
“I appreciate your concern, Hughie,” you say, “but I think I’ll just stick to fantasising about him in the shower.”
His expression morphs into disgust as he begins choking on his mouthful of food, his face turning bright red. Annie’s laughter fills the room, and you join her while Hughie struggles to compose himself.
To your surprise, and relief, Hughie agrees to keep your little secret to himself. He doesn’t even make a stupid face the next day when the three of you arrive at the boys’ current hideout, finding MM, Frenchie, Kimiko, and the man himself huddled around the dining room table.
“Righ’ on time,” Butcher says with a grin, “let’s get to it, then.”
You knew he was excited about this next mission, if you could call it that. Everyone was, in fact, because thanks to Annie’s excellent intel, you were all attending Vought’s annual ball. A night of celebration to thank the mighty Supes for keeping the streets safe, or as Butcher liked to call it, Vought’s annual wank-fest.
“Your invitations are all sorted,” Annie says, pulling a small handful of envelopes out of her bag. “Hughie came up with all your aliases, so please stick to them, or you’ll be kicked out in a heartbeat. Security is tough at this thing, and there’ll be no talking yourselves out of a bad situation.”
She looks pointedly at Butcher, but his smirk only widens.
“Frenchie,” Hughie says, “you’re going as a member of the tech team, so you’ll be behind the scenes and keeping an eye on the cameras for anything suspicious.”
Frenchie rubs his hands together excitedly, taking the envelope from Annie and tearing it open.
“Monsieur Felipe Lavigne, senior security technician,” he announces, reading the ID card aloud.
“MM and Kimiko, you’ll be with me,” Hughie goes on, “we’ll be posing as press on behalf of the city council. There’s a huge group of council members and associates, so all we have to do is blend in.”
MM takes two envelopes and passes one to Kimiko.
Hughie turns to you, “I originally had you listed as press too, but then decided it might be smart to double down on Butcher’s alias, give him another level of cover, you know?”
You frown, tilting your head sceptically as he hands you and Butcher an envelope each.
“You’ll be attending as prospective stakeholders, invited by corporate to bask in the glory of Vought in the hopes that you’ll invest in their cause,” Hughie explains. “An affluent couple from upstate New York, recently immigrated from Britain after growing bored of your rich English lifestyle.”
You’re almost positive your brows have reached your hairline as you stare at the envelope in your hands, your trembling fingers struggling to pull the ID badge out.
“Brooklyn Williams,” you read aloud.
Annie shoots Hughie a look, promising that he would be paying for this later, and you realise that he must have made this decision in the past twelve hours without consulting her.
“William Williams,” Butcher says, frowning at Hughie, “really?”
Despite being the target of several unhappy stares, Hughie chuckles.
Frenchie snickers too, “At least you will not forget it, eh?”
“Smart move, Hughie,” MM speaks up, “Butcher is the one most likely to be caught, but with Y/N in tow, he might think twice about putting himself in danger.”
Butcher rolls his eyes, “Do none of you ‘ave any faith in me?”
Hughie, Frenchie, and MM respond in unison, “No.”
The seven of you spend the next two hours going over the details of your aliases and the agenda of the function. It’s going to be a huge event, which meant little risk of actually running into Homelander or anyone who might recognise any of you. Annie won’t be able to help on the night, being one of the spotlight attendees, but that isn’t what’s was making you nervous. You’re going to have to spend a good five hours pretending to be married to Butcher, the one man you desperately want and the one man you were trying very hard not to fall in love with.
After what feels like forever, Frenchie announces that he is going to get dinner and Annie bids you all goodbye to check in at Vought tower. Hughie sets his laptop up at the desk in the corner of the lounge room while MM excuses himself for his nightly facetime call with Janine.
Kimiko turns to you, signing a question about what you were all going to wear on the night.
“Annie helped me organise some things,” you reply, gesturing toward the suitcase by the door. “You should try it on now, and if you don’t like it we can find something else.”
You know Kimiko isn’t a fan of cocktail attire, and you definitely didn’t want her walking into the dragon’s den worrying about the way she looked or if she’d be able to fight should the need arise.
“What ‘bout me, love?” Butcher asks, his signature smirk curling the corner of his lips.
Your cheeks burn under his gaze, “You don’t get a choice, you’ll be wearing a suit.”
He chuckles, “I do love a stubborn woman, must’ve been why I married you.”
Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you fail to think of a sarcastic retort, instead turning away in the hopes that he hasn’t already noticed the bright colour in your cheeks.
Kimiko drops the case on its back with a thud, unzipping it quickly and throwing it open to pull out each of the bagged costumes. There are four suits of various styles with varying accessories, and two dresses. She stands holding the one labelled with her name, dragging the zip right down the middle and revealing the soft black fabric of her dress. It isn’t quite full length, hemmed just below the knee in a pencil skirt style and devoid of any embellishments. A simple black dress with long sleeves, fitted but flexible.
She grins, signing to you that it is perfect and thanking you for not putting her in anything ridiculous.
“We chose two pairs of shoes too,” you say, “in case you don’t want to wear the heels.”
Butcher strides toward the suitcase and picks up the last bag, but you follow him, quickly snatching it out of his hands before he can pull the zip.
“My dress can wait until the night,” you hold it behind your back for good measure, “I’m still not sure about it.”
He quirks one brow, “You’re not wearin’ latex, are ya?”
You roll your eyes before turning on your heel, taking your dress into your room and tucking it into the back of your closet. You fall back on your bed, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you try to calm your erratic pulse. It’s just one night, you can hold it together for one night, right?
The next two days pass in a blur of preparations and planning, and before you know it, you’re staring at the dress hanging in your closet with a towel wrapped around your body. Your hair is clean and curled, pulled into a half up do with twisted gold pins creating the illusion of diadem just below the crown of your head. You took a little longer to do your makeup than usual, out of practice in the art of winged eyeliner and false lashes, but in the end, you were proud. Now, the dress.
Your fingers are numb as you pull the zipper down, revealing the red silk material of the gown that Annie convinced you would be a good idea. You blame her for this just as much as Hughie.
“Come on, Y/N,” MM calls through your bedroom door, “we have to go.”
You sigh and throw your towel aside, hurriedly pulling the dress off its hanger. The material is cool against your skin, sliding easily over your curves and fitting your body like a tailor-made glove. You twist awkwardly to secure the zip before turning to the mirror.
The dress is floor length, a few inches of the red silk pooling at your feet, with a long slit reaching scandalously up to your left hip. The straps are about an inch thick, and the neck cowled, showcasing your breasts and the perfect amount cleavage. The silk hugs your torso, and you’re a little startled at just how good you feel in this dress.
Another knock at the door has you rushing to slip into your beige heels, and you check that your underwear are pulled high enough to not be seen in the slit of the dress before opening the door. MM’s jaw drops.
“Holy shit, Y/N.”
You blush, “Thanks.”
Being the gentleman he is, he tears his eyes away from you, offering you his arm with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
In the lounge room, Kimiko is helping Frenchie with his tie and Hughie is struggling to secure his suspenders to his trousers. Your breath catches when your eyes land on Butcher, dressed in a classic and perfectly fitted black tux. He has even trimmed his beard and styled his hair, still a little dishevelled but holy shit, does the sight of him make your mouth water.
“Damn,” Hughie says when he sees you, “nice dress.”
“Nice suspenders.”
He chuckles, “Are we ready?”
Butcher turns to you, his jaw going slack and his eyes dark. Your chest squeezes, your lungs struggling to draw enough breath as your head spins from the lack of oxygen.
“Ready,” MM says beside you.
“Good,” Hughie tucks his ID badge into his shirt pocket, “I’ve organised two cars, one for Y/N and Butcher, and the other for the rest of us. Once we’re there, we can’t slip up, keep your masks up and don’t even look at anyone you think might recognise you.”
You check your small black clutch for your ID badge and phone.
“Earpieces are too risky tonight,” he continues, “so keep your phones on you, and if one of us is out, we all abort.”
Kimiko checks her own purse and the boys check their pockets before you all shuffle out the door. Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko exit the building first, leaving you and Butcher alone in the lobby.
“You ready, sweethear’?” he asks, gazing at you with the same dark eyes as before.
You nod, “As I’ll ever be.”
After a minute, you exit the apartment and climb into the awaiting car. Butcher greets the driver as the car pulls away from the curb, and you take the chance to pull your phone out, typing out a quick message to Hughie.
‘I’m going to kill you.’
Your phone pings before you can put it away, and you quickly turn it to silent before reading his reply.
‘You’re welcome ;)’
A warm hand on your bare legs startles you, the heat sinking into your blood and making it sizzle through your veins.
“You sure you’re alrigh’?” Butcher asks.
“Yeah,” you mutter, “just nervous.”
His thumb rubs soft circles on your thigh, sending shockwaves of desire right to your core.
“Nothin’ to be worried ‘bout, love, I’ve got you.”
Your eyes almost roll back in your head at the sound of his deep voice. He truly does not know how much he does have you, all of you.
“Thanks, Billy,” you whisper, your voice unsteady.
His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of car ride, and your pulse refuses to settle. Anxiety and desire tangle in your stomach, twisting it into loops and winding the knot in your core even tighter than it already was.
Eventually, the car stops, and you both thank the driver before climbing out. You’re not at the main entrance of the building, but there is still a ridiculous number of security guards standing around, and barriers preventing anyone without an invitation from getting within twenty feet of the door. Butcher wraps an arm around your waist to guide you forward, his warmth shielding you from the cold night air.
“By the way,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “you look fuckin’ delectable in that dress.”
Another wave of heat washes through your veins, and it takes every ounce of focus for you to not stumble up the walkway. Two security guards step forward as you both flash your ID badges.
“Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” the guard in front of Butcher says, scanning the barcodes on the badges, “welcome to Vought tower.”
The security guard in front of you is younger than the other, his blonde hair slicked back and his mouth etched into a sleazy smirk as his eyes rake up and down your body. He winks as he steps aside, and Butcher notices, his expression twisting into a scowl.
Just as you reach the doors, Butcher’s hand slips from your waist to your ass, squeezing it as he dips down and plants a hot kiss against your neck.
“Fuckin’ perve,” he mutters, before guiding you through the doors and down the corridor.
Your mouth is dry and your knees wobbly, but you move with practice and manage to appear cool and collected as you step into the huge event room. It’s extravagantly decorated with drapes of sheer fabric hanging from the high ceilings and a huge crystal chandelier in the centre. There are dozens of round tables, all set with fine silver-wear and obnoxious centrepieces made of red and white roses.
“Nice to know where all our money will be going if we decide to invest, darlin’,” Butcher says with a cheeky grin.
You giggle, letting him guide you through the clusters of elegantly dressed attendees toward where you assumed your table would be. You don’t remember ever finding out that piece of information, but you assume either Hughie or Annie told Butcher while you were still reeling about having to play ‘happy couple’ with him.
You listen carefully to snippets of conversations as you pass, waiting for anything interesting to catch your attention. Butcher stops at an empty table and pulls out a chair, you smile in thanks before taking a seat, quickly shuffling forward to avoid flashing everyone due to the ridiculously high split in your dress. Butcher notices though, chuckling to himself as he takes the chair beside you.
Before you can speak, he places a hand on your bare leg and squeezes, knocking every thought right out of your head.
You gasp, “I-It’s hot in here, is it hot in here?”
“I think that’s jus’ you, sweethear’,” he replies with a wink.
The room quickly fills with guests, conversations growing louder and drowning out the soft music playing over the speakers. Eventually, a woman takes the stage and the room falls quiet, listening to her lengthy introduction about how grateful Vought were for this night and how wonderful it is to be able to celebrate America’s finest superheroes. You can barely hear her though, your ears filled with the thrum of your pulse as Butcher’s fingers draw patterns on your leg. Your core aches, and you shift in your seat only to feel the dampness between your legs.
When the room erupts into applause, Butcher’s hand freezes, and you turn to see Homelander striding onto the stage, his hair blinding beneath the bright spotlight.
“Hey,” you whisper, placing a hand on top of Butcher’s, “you okay?”
He turns to you and his scowl relaxes, a soft smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah,” he replies, “I’m good.”
You slip your other hand beneath his, praying that he doesn’t notice how sweaty your palms are as you play with his fingers beneath the table. Although you had started in the hopes of calming him, you find your own sense of relaxation in his touch, focusing on the feeling of his skin as Homelander drawls on about Vought and The Seven.
After what feels like an eternity, he finishes his speech and the room cheers again. The woman returns to the microphone to announce the first course of food before music and conversation fills the air, and you turn your attention toward the centre of the table. Butcher grips your hand as you attempt to move it, entwining his fingers with yours and only allowing one of your hands free.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you two at one of these events before,” the woman beside you says.
She’s older but extremely elegant, with a pendant around her neck that you don’t doubt costs more money than you’ll ever get to see in your bank account.
“We’re new in town,” you reply, your voice very slightly lilted, “just moved from London’s east end, actually.”
“How charming,” she places a hand against her pendant, “I’m Lucille, and this is my husband, Jack.”
The podgy man beside her nods, his cheeks and nose bright red as he guzzles from his glass of champagne.
“Pleasure to meet you,” you say, “I’m Brooklyn, and this is my husband, William.”
You cast a glance at Butcher, only to find his eyes already locked on you, sparkling under the soft yellow lights. He has dopey smile on his lips and an emotion you can’t discern floating behind his gaze. Your stomach flips.
“You do make a charming, if you don’t mind my saying,” Lucille says.
You nod, your cheeks tingling with warmth, “Thank you.”
“So,” her husband, Jack, speaks up, his voice gruff, “what brings you here?”
You wait a beat for Butcher to reply, but he only watches you with that same expression.
“To be totally honest with you, I’m not sure,” you reply with a half-hearted laugh, “we have been thinking about investing, but I do wonder why a company of this immensity even needs investors.”
Jack chuckles, “You’ve got that right, seems greedy, doesn’t it?”
Lucille frowns at her husband before turning back to you, “We don’t do it for them, we do it for our grandkids, for their future. In the hopes that they will have a future, a safe one. This world is a nasty place.”
“You’re not wrong about that,” you sigh.
She nods, “That’s why it’s important to protect what you love, and hold on to it.”
Butcher’s hand squeezes yours, making your heart thump violently within your chest. You turn to him and meet his eyes, the fire in your veins blazing with a new intensity and heating every inch of your skin.
“I-If you’ll excuse me,” you stammer, pushing your chair back, “I need to use the bathroom.”
Butcher nods as you stand, and you can hear Lucille strike up new conversation while you weave between the tables toward the exit. Fresh air fills your lungs the moment you reach the foyer, and you pull your phone out of your bag, finding Hughie’s contact name with trembling fingers.
‘If I survive tonight, I WILL kill you.’
You hit send and turn toward the bathroom, almost stumbling when you see the same blonde security guard who had been stationed at the doors.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he asks, his slimy smirk loading the question with innuendo.
“I’m okay,” you reply, “thank you.”
He steps forward before you can move, “You sure? You look a little flustered. Perhaps a step outside might help? It does get awfully hot in here.”
The first spark of fear rattles up your spine.
“I appreciate that, but I just need to use the restroom,” you say.
His smirk doesn’t falter, “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I’d be more than happy to escort you. Can’t have a stunning woman such as yourself wandering the streets alone.”
You force a polite smile onto your face as you step around him and hurry down the corridor toward the bathrooms. With one subtle glance over your shoulder, you see him watching, still standing at the end of the hall looking almost predatory.
“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, turning sharply into the first stall.
You close the toilet lid and sit on top if it, holding your head in your hands and counting your breaths. After a minute of trying to wrangle your wild thoughts, you decide that Butcher is either a fantastic actor or… in love with you. Your heart aches to agree with the latter, but your brain fights for reason, reminding you that you’re in an incredibly sensitive situation and he is only acting like this to keep up the façade.
You sigh and stand up, panic piercing your chest when you remember the pushy security guard waiting for you in the foyer. You find your phone again, tapping on Butcher’s name and quickly typing out a message.
‘Don’t freak out, I’m totally fine, but I need you to come get me. Foyer.’
You count to thirty before exiting the stall and washing your hands, pleasantly surprised by your reflection in the mirror, aside from the deep red splashed across your cheeks. You walk calmly out of the bathroom and down the corridor, ignoring the spike in your pulse when you see the back of the security guard still standing there.
He turns around at the sound of your footsteps, a smirk curling his lips. “Hey gorgeous, are you-”
“There you are,” Butcher calls, striding toward you.
He wraps an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your lower back as he presses your body against his. You don’t have time to respond before his lips capture yours. Your knees almost buckle, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as his mouth moves against yours and your mind goes completely blank.
He pulls back ever so slightly, his forehead still touching yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”
The feeling that bubbles in your chest makes your heart want to explode.
“Better get back in there,” he says, carefully releasing you.
You nod, unable to summon a single word as he looks at you like that, his pupils blown and his lips swollen from the kiss. He takes one of your hands in his and pulls you toward the doors before casting a menacing scowl over his shoulder at the security guard.
“Did he touch you?” he asks, his voice low.
You shake your head, “No.”
“Good.”
“Wait,” you tug on his hand before he can walk through the doors.
He frowns as you pull him to the side, into an alcove beneath the grand stairs that lead up to the private rooms above the event hall. He doesn’t resist when you press him against the wall, your hands on his chest and your body covering his. You look up at him through your thick lashes, and you can feel a soft groan rumble through his chest.
“I’m not sure we were convincing enough,” you whisper, before surging up and pressing your lips against his.
His hands hold the back of your head as he tilts his own to deepen the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips and making you whimper. Your ears fill with the erratic thrum of your heart and the soft moans from the man in front of you, making you forget about everything that isn’t him. The fire rushing through your veins collects at your core, burning with need and making you clench as his hands wander down your back to cup your ass.
Time loses all meaning as you tangle your limbs with his, your body throbbing almost painfully. You have to stop yourself from clawing at his clothes, every desire within you craving to tear his suit apart and absolutely devour him.
Eventually, your lungs begin to burn, and the short gasps between kisses aren’t enough to appease them, so you pull away. His pupils are huge, consuming almost all of the colour in his eyes as he studies your face with a small smile.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs.
You open your mouth to tell him the same when someone clears their throat, and you both snap toward the sound. Hughie is standing a few feet away, his ID badge now on a lanyard around his neck and a notebook in his hand. His face looks pained, struggling to contain what would be a hysterical laugh if you weren’t all supposed to be undercover.
You stumble back from Butcher with wide eyes, your mouth trying to form words but no sound comes out.
Butcher straightens his jacket and clears his throat, “Sorry, mate, as you were.”
Hughie takes a deep breath and turns toward the room, and you have to commend him for his self-control.
Butcher looks down at you, “D’you think that was convincing enough?”
You giggle, “Maybe a little too convincing.”
He smirks and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping at the smeared lipstick. You know you must look like a wreck, your makeup smudged and your face blotchy and red, but you don’t care.
“Better get back in there before you get me arrested for public indecency,” he says, taking your hand in his.
You laugh again as he leads you back into the room, guiding you through the throngs of people and toward your table. Lucille greets you with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she surveys your flustered state. Butcher sits and shuffles his chair closer to yours before placing a hand on your thigh, much higher than where it was before.
“It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it?” Lucille whispers to you.
You frown, “What is?”
“That love and passion,” she replies with a grin. “He just adores you, I can tell. Don’t ever let go of what you two have, it’s rare.”
You try to hide your smile, but it’s almost impossible. “I won’t.”
You’re not sure what you’ve missed but you assume it was Annie’s speech as the chatter around you is filled mostly with her name. The woman from before returns to the stage to rave some more, though you don’t bother trying to pay attention. Butcher is watching you with hungry eyes, filling your head with filthy thoughts and absolutely soaking your panties.
“So, Mrs. Williams,” he says, his voice low, “got any plans after this?”
“Not really,” you reply, “but I do think there’s a toy in the top drawer of my dresser calling my name.”
He swallows thickly, “Is that so?”
You nod, “I’m feeling a little wound up.”
“Perhaps I could help you unwind,” he whispers, “think I’d do a better job than that fuckin’ toy.”
“That’s a bold statement, are you sure?”
His fingers dig into your thighs with enough pressure to bruise, making your whole body jolt.
“Oh, I’m fuckin’ sure.”
His hand slides up your thigh and you part your legs instinctively.
He smirks, “Good girl, so responsive.”
The burning in your core pulses, sending white hot waves of desire up your spine to cloud your mind. His fingers brush the crotch of your panties, barely a touch but enough to make you sigh softly.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers, “so ready for my c-”
Cheers erupt throughout the room, drowning out his voice and startling you out of your stupor. His hand slides back down your leg and his smirk breaks into a devilish grin when you look at him with a scowl.
“Sorry, love,” he says as he retrieves his phone from his jacket pocket.
You take a moment to collect your thoughts, drawing steady breaths and trying to focus on anything but the man beside you. He chuckles at his phone before tucking it back into his pocket.
“Was that your mistress?” you tease.
He raises his brows, “Is that jealousy I’m hearin’?”
You slide your hand up his thigh, stopping just below his crotch to squeeze.
“You tell me, do I have anything to be jealous of?”
His voice is almost a groan, “Never.”
“Good.”
You slide your hand over his crotch, relishing in the way his whole body tenses before you pull back and fold your hands in your own lap. He sighs and takes a generous gulp from his glass of champagne, grimacing at the taste before leaning toward you with an arm over the back of your chair.
“You’re a fuckin’ tease, you know that?”
You turn to him, your face barely an inch from his, “Oh, baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
He leans back in his chair, his jaw tense but his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You fond of that dress?” he asks casually.
“This old thing? Nah.”
He nods once, “Good, because I’m goin’ to fuckin’ destroy it.”
The woman sitting on his other side chokes on her mouthful of champagne, casting an abhorrent glare toward the two of you before completely turning her back. You have to swallow your laughter, averting your gaze to your lap as Butcher chuckles quietly.
You feel your purse vibrate at the same time that Butcher reaches for his pocket. You pull your phone out and check the messages, finding several from Hughie.
‘We’re here to WORK, not fornicate.’
‘I just spent five minutes laughing to myself in the toilet.’
‘The shows closing soon, we should leave before the crowds. Unless you and Butcher are busy ;)’
“D’you think you can make it out of here without your knees bucklin’, love?” Butcher asks with a smirk.
You tuck your phone away and twist in your chair so that your legs are toward him, parting them slowly. The red silk slides against your skin and the split opens with your legs. Butcher’s gaze drops, his whole face turning red as his eyes grow wide.
“I bet you a hundred dollars that you’re rock hard right now,” you whisper, leaning forward.
His jaw twitches as his gaze moves to your chest, and you smirk before twisting toward Lucille.
“We’re going to duck out before the masses, but it was lovely meeting you,” you say, “and best wishes to your grandkids. They’re lucky to have such incredible grandparents.”
She smiles at you, her eyes watery, “It was lovely meeting you too, dear.”
Her husband grumbles a farewell and you smile politely at the rest of the table who you hadn’t bothered to meet before turning back to Butcher expectantly. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling at the way he shifts in his seat.
“Pleasure meeting you,” he nods toward Lucille and Jack.
He pushes his chair back and stands up, drawing a hand out of his pocket and dropping two fifty dollar bills onto the table before stepping back. A grin breaks across your face as you snatch the money and stand up, taking Butcher’s outstretched hand and letting him lead you out of the room. You almost stumble at the pace at which he drags you through the crowds, not stopping until you’re through the foyer, out the doors, and a good distance from the building’s entrance.
“You owe me,” he growls, yanking on your wrist so that you fall into his arms.
“Take whatever you want,” you whisper, “I’m all yours.”
Another rumble vibrates through his chest, and the knot of anticipation in your stomach twists tighter.
“Good, you’re here,” Hughie calls, his feet slapping against the pavement as he jogs toward you.
Butcher’s hold goes slack, and you take a reluctant step away from him as MM and Kimiko follow a few paces behind Hughie. The cold air nips at your bare skin, making you shiver.
“Where’s Frenchie?” MM asks.
“On his way,” Hughie replies with his phone in his hand, “and the car is close.”
You startle at the feeling of material falling around your shoulders, and glance up as Butcher steps in front of you, his arms guiding his blazer over your trembling body. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him through your thick lashes as his lips curl into a soft smile. He moves back to stand at your side and wraps one arm around you, pulling you against side.
Hughie’s grin is so wide you want to slap it off his face.
“Not a word,” Butcher mutters.
Hughie chuckles, “I didn’t say anything.”
MM is clearly amused, and even Kimiko is giggling when Frenchie comes jogging up behind them.
“Did I miss something?” he asks, his brows raised as he looks from Butcher to you.
“Car’s here,” Hughie announces, and you all step toward the curb.
Hughie climbs in the front seat and greets the driver before texting rapidly on his phone, no doubt messaging Annie to let her know you were all safe and heading home. Kimiko and Frenchie shuffle toward the back of the van, and MM grumbles when neither you nor Butcher volunteer to join them. He squeezes between the two of them on the backseat before Butcher helps you into the van, and you take the single seat behind the passenger as Butcher falls into the last seat behind the driver.
You shrink into his jacket, enveloping yourself in his scent and relishing the warmth that his body had left behind. His eyes don’t leave you for the duration of the trip, studying your face, lingering on your lips, and moving up and down your body over and over again.
The drive feels much longer than it should, but the car finally pulls up outside your apartment block and you all pile out. Frenchie begins rambling about pieces of information he overheard, and MM fills in some of the gaps with snippets that he picked up in the press crowd. You almost feel guilty that you did nothing but dry hump Butcher and chat with an elderly rich woman, but that guilt washes away the moment you step inside the apartment.
“Bed, now,” Butcher tells you, tugging you by your hand toward the master bedroom.
“Y/N,” Hughie calls before you can disappear, “I thought your bedroom was that way.”
You turn to him with a frown, finding that stupid boyish grin stretched across his lips as the rest of the room watches you with amused faces.
“I’m not going to sleep, Hughie,” you say, before turning to Butcher, “I’m not tired.”
You catch a glimpse of his disgusted expression before you turn and rush into Butcher’s bedroom, followed closely by the man himself. His hand catches the collar the jacket and pulls it off of you as you step toward the bed.
“Not tired?” he asks, starting on the top button of his shirt.
You sit on the edge of the bed and kick your heels off. “Not at all.”
“Good.”
In two strides, he’s right in front of you, using his knee to nudge your legs apart so he can stand between them. His eyes trace up your bare leg, stopping where the red material reveals an inch of your black panties, and he sighs.
“So,” you say, leaning back with your hands on the bed, “what do I owe you?”
His self-control snaps and his hands yank at the opening of his shirt, ripping the rest of the buttons apart before he shrugs it off his shoulders. He straddles your hips and pushes you back, his lips assaulting your neck as you writhe beneath him.
“You said, I could take whatever fuckin’ I want,” he mutters against your skin.
You only moan in response and he sinks his teeth into your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise before soothing it with his tongue.
“I’m gon’a take all of you,” he growls, “but first-”
He sits back suddenly, his fingers making quick work of his belt and the fastenings of his trousers.
“I made a promise to this dress,” he finishes, before gripping the material on either side of the slit and ripping it.
You gasp as the silk falls loose around your body, tearing right up to the neck and cleaving the dress apart entirely. His eyes rake over your bare skin as he licks his lips and drops onto his hands to hover over you, grinding his hips down and eliciting another moan from your mouth.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he sighs, “you’re gon’a kill me with those pretty noises, sweethear’.”
“Butcher,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need you.”
His elbows buckle and his body falls on top of yours as his lips capture yours in a searing kiss.
“You have me,” he murmurs against your mouth, “you’ve got all of me.”
END.
2K notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 8 months
Text
togetherness
matilda’s x reader
this one’s a long one so rip
also pls keep sending request lol i need ideas
your a rookie on the squad, struggling to find your footing in a team that you don’t think you fit into. what happens when a certain conflict arises between you and one of your teammates?
angst, little bit of fluff, 5k+ words
I couldn’t really give you a timeline on when I started to space out, when I started to check out. I knew chronologically it would have had to be a few weeks ago, after the world cup had started, just after my whole life had become a shit storm. It was a process, checking out of your own life, it took time, I think that’s why I couldn’t tell you the one moment that I started to, because there wasn’t an exact moment. Slowly the days just all start to smudge into one big mess, you can’t tell people what day it is anymore or when your last meal was. Which sounds stupid, because those are just mundane things. When you check out of life though those things stop mattering, for me I either sleep obtusely or I don’t sleep at all, I don’t eat, I forget how to look after myself. I try to be discreet about it for as long as I can, but eventually people catch on, especially when you are playing professional sport, because you are surrounded by doctors and athletes that know the signs of burnout.
At around two weeks, I think, I could tell my team was catching onto my behaviour. I was a mess, I came to breakfast in the morning with puffy red eyes from crying at night, I didn’t really talk to anyone unless I had to, I was always tired, I kept to myself a little bit too much. It was a matter of time until I was approached, probably told off for having a shitty attitude. I had predicted that, expected it. What I hadn’t expected was to be pretty much cornered in my locker before training by our team captain, Sam Kerr.
As one of the youngest on the team it was safe to say that I was pretty much terrified of our skipper. Not that Sam was a scary person, she was lovely, considerate to a fault. But she was terrifying in a sense that we all knew heading into the world cup she had one ambition and that was to win at home, at all costs. That’s a little bit intimidating, especially when you know that she is prepared to hand you your ass on a silver platter if you do absolutely anything to jeopardise that ambition.
I’d been sitting in my cubby, lacing my cleats up. Both of my airpods in, hoodie on, tracksuit on, puffer jacket hood on. If I didn’t scream unapproachable I don’t know what did. I’d been sitting there a little bit too long I think, staring at my shoe lace for a little bit long, long enough for someone to point me out to Sam. I’d gotten the fright of my life when Sam’s hand had very gently connected with my shoulder. I’d flinched back almost immediately, before turning around and realising where the contact had come from. Sam looked a little bit offended by my sudden reaction to her touch, but the concern left her facial expression fairly quickly.
“Are you okay kid?”
I hated that question. Three words that drove me insane. I don’t think anyone ever answered that question honestly, because it was so blunt. How were you supposed to honestly answer a person you didn’t trust with the answer to the question.
I pulled my airpods out of my ears purely out of respect, even though I could hear Sam perfectly clear.
“Fine, Cap.”
I thought my words would have been enough of an indicator that I didn’t want to talk to her but she’d taken it as an invitation instead to sit down on the bench beside me.
“You don’t look fine.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, hard enough to draw blood, and focused on completing the task of lacing up my cleats.
“Well I am.”
My answers were short and snappy, closed off. They didn’t leave room for imagination or interpretation. I was a blunt person, I spoke bluntly, I reacted to things bluntly. I’d always been that way and I was pretty sure I’d never change.
“Do you want to talk about it? Because I’m here for you.”
I gulped and finished tying up my first cleat, moving on to pulling the second one over my sock covered left foot. I always put the left one on first, it had become routine for me, that was how I’d tied them before I’d won my first game and I’d stuck with it, it was a superstition that I’d never been able to break and I didn’t see why I should break it now.
“I don’t have anything I need to talk to you about.”
My voice was betraying me, my voice and my eyes. I knew Sam would pick up on my aversion to looking at her in the eyes. I could blame it on focusing on tying up my shoes but she was also sitting directly above them and every time I lifted my eyes I just happened to focus on the wall behind her instead.
“Doesn’t seem that way, Ellie told me that she’s heard you crying in your ensuite at night, she says you don’t sleep very much, which I think your under eyes are enough supporting evidence.”
I let my eyes drift over to Ellie, she was standing on the complete opposite side of the locker rooms, talking anxiously to Kyra and Hailey. As soon as she looked up and met my eyes I could tell that Sam’s approach to me had been driven by her, the anxious look in her eyes was enough of a giveaway.
“Ellie doesn’t know what she’s talking about, the girl talks in her sleep most of the time or she’s on the phone to her girlfriend, I don’t think she’d be able to recall my night time activities.”
I focused back in on my cleats, knotting them furiously with my hands that I had now realised were shaking.
“She seemed to have a pretty good idea, we’ve all seen you’ve been checked out recently. I get if you don’t want to talk about it now around the girls. You seem to be having a bad day. So how about you get yourself through training and then you and I have a chat in private?”
It was phrased as a question but nothing about how she’d said the words came out as a proposition, it was an order. I would have tried to object but I knew it would be useless, Sam had made her mind up and once Sam had made up her mind there was no changing it.
“Sounds good skipper.”
My voice was nothing but dripping with sarcasm, it was my only way of pushing out my very clear distaste with the idea of having to talk to Sam after training. As soon as Sam stood up and I’d checked that both of my cleats were on properly I marched right over to Ellie, pulling her away from the conversation she was in and back over to my locker.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but telling on me to cap isn’t going to get you fucking brownie points with me, we aren’t friends Ellie, we’re not sleepover buddies. I am working tooth and nail here to be fucking respected and I just got a proper emotional dressing down from Kerr that was pretty much just her telling me that I needed to get my act together. If that doesn’t scream out not fucking respected than I don’t know what does.”
I watched all of the colour drain from Ellie’s face as she slowly became far more uncomfortable in the conversation. She wasn’t backing down though.
“I don’t know what fucking planet you are on y/n/n but we are just looking out for you. I hear you at night in the bathroom, sobbing and balling your eyes out. That doesn’t scream out okay to me. Sam wasn’t giving you a dressing down she was asking you if you were fucking okay, something that we’ve all wanted to do for a few weeks now, we were just all scared to because we thought you were going to rip our heads off, like you are doing to me right now. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about you right now because how you’ve been behaving as of late isn’t fucking normal and anybody in there right mind would be worried about you.”
Ellie and I’s argument had escalated enough that I could tell most of the locker room's attention had fallen to our heated conversation, neither of us were ready to back down though and that much was evident in how strong both of our glares at each other held.
“Fuck you, you aren’t the person who gets to decide whether or not I’m okay or not. So what if I’ve been keeping to myself? Maybe I needed some down time away from this fucking extroverted team that never gives me a fucking break.”
It was a personal dig, one that I had said far too loudly in a crowded room of girls that I actually really loved, it had been like word vomit though, getting thrown out in me and Ellie’s fight.
“That’s not fair and you know it, all anybody here has done is be nice to you and you’ve been a fucking dick to everyone for the last few weeks, it’s not normal. You were so happy at training camp but ever since we’ve gotten here you’ve lost your shit and it’s fucking pathetic because we are your team and family and you should trust us more than anybody else but you don’t you don’t give two shits about anybody here besides yourself and we can all see it. It’s embarrassing having your represent us in your current condition. Your a wreck. You didn’t deserve to be brought up from the under 20’s. Maybe if you spent less time in our bathroom at nighttime crying about how hard your sorry ass life was you’d realise there are people and things on earth that are more fucking important than you are.”
Ellie’s words had taken the air out of my lungs, it wasn’t what I’d expected and even her facial expression reflected that she was a little bit taken aback by her own words. They were personal, really personal. I blinked a few times, trying to get a footing in the conversation but I couldn’t, because what was I supposed to say to a person accusing me of being a selfish heartless team mate? Me and Ellie stood stock still, just staring at each other, both of us obviously waiting for the other to keep talking but neither of us could.
“Ellie Madison Carpenter, out on the field, right now.”
Steph’s voice echoed against the walls of the changerooms, everyone else was standing completely silent and still in the room. I looked around the locker rooms, aware that literally everyone besides Sam who had left the locker rooms after her talk to me had just heard Ellie’s speech. I was too shocked to do anything besides plaster my hand against my mouth and run directly into the bathroom that connected to the change rooms. I did my best to not let any tears fall until I’d locked the disabled bathroom door behind me and I’d slid down onto the floor. Was that actually what the team thought of me? That I was a selfish, useless, coldhearted bitch who was just here for herself? Ellie’s words had hurt my heart and soul, because I didn’t play for myself, I hadn’t ever.
I consciously could hear the frantic knocking on the bathroom door but my subconscious was doing its best to tune it out.
“Y/n, open the door, please.”
“Fucking Ellie, that kid has no fucking filter.”
“How are we supposed to explain to Cap that she locked herself in the bathroom?”
“Fuck we were supposed to be on the field five minutes ago, Tony is going to have a field day giving us fucking suicide sprints.”
Those were a few of the sentences that I made out through the door. They were enough to tell me that I needed to get my shit together, because one thing I couldn’t handle on top of the team thinking I was all of those things was the team thinking I was the fucking emotional mess that everyone seemed to think I was. So after letting whatever tears I had left fall, I flushed the toilet, in an attempt to try and disguise the sound of me furiously washing the redness off of my face then I walked towards the door, took a deep breath and unlocked it. Hailey and Macka were both waiting outside and were very clearly surprised by my exit from the bathroom.
“Alanna, don’t worry about getting skip, she’s out.”
I bit the inside of my mouth again, satisfied with the irony taste of my own blood filling my mouth.
“Sorry, just feeling a little bit sick.”
It was very clear none of them believed my excuse. I tried to push past them though, trying my hardest to avoid whatever awkward confrontation that I was apparently bound to, because both Ras and Mackenzie stopped me before I could take a step.
“Y/n. What Ellie said wasn’t true and it’s okay for you to feel emotions about that, she let the heat of the moment get to her.”
I gulped, swallowing the mixture of blood and sweat that was resonating in my mouth.
“I told you, I feel sick. I don’t give a shit what Ellie has to say, she’s very welcome to her own opinions, this is a free country, she has an issue I’d rather her say it to my face.”
My words were faulty, untrustworthy, like ice that was slowly cracking.
“You are allowed to be upset at her for saying that about you, it was mean and she was trying to get to you. It’s okay for you to have emotions about that.”
I pursed my lips, I hated confrontation. Confrontation was terrifying.
“I told you I just felt sick, I still do. I need to go talk to Tony, can I leave or am I being held hostage until I talk about emotions that I don’t have or feel right now?”
Hayley and Mackenzie both looked between each other, trying to think up another plan of attack but clearly not finding anything telepathically between themselves.
“You are free to go, we’re here for you if you need to talk.”
I rolled my eyes at the two of them.
“Thanks, I’ll keep a mental note next time I need a therapist to talk about my nonexistent selfish feelings with.”
The sarcasm rolled off of my tongue too easily as I walked out of the locker rooms and into the tunnel, slowly making my way out onto the field. It was night training, so the ground was cold and the bright white fluorescent lights were blaring down across the pitch. I looked out across the ground, the girls had already started running whatever drills they’d been instructed to start with which led me to ask myself the question of how long had I actually locked myself in that bathroom for?
I made my way straight over to Tony who was looking at me in that way he tended to when he was thinking about something.
“Ms y/l/n.”
He smiled at me, a little bit too kindly for my liking.
“Coach, I’m feeling a bit sick, I think I might have eaten something funny this morning, probably that granola that looked like it had been sitting out for a little bit to long, I think I should probably just rest for tonight, unless you want a granola vomit mess to deal with.”
Tony’s eyes studied me, my body language, silently assessing my every move.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened between you and Ms Carpenter?”
Fuck, that was me exposed. I looked down to my cleats, by default, because I couldn’t look into his eyes knowing that he knew I was lying straight to his face.
“She approached me, told me that she’d said some things to a teammate before coming out for warm ups that she was sorry for, that I should sit her out for a game because of it. Wouldn’t tell me who she’d spoken to, which made me think it must have been pretty serious.”
I gulped anxiously, fuck. Fuck Ellie for making this whole night a flaming hot pile of shit.
“It wasn’t anything bad, I feel sick, it’s got nothing to do with Ellie, I’m a big girl, I can handle my own problems, she shouldn’t sit out for a week, we need her.”
I let my eyes cross the field, to where Ellie was, her whole complexion had paled dramatically and she looked like she’d just been on a really high rollercoaster.
“We also need to look out for the safety of our players. I'm going to ask you this once and I want you to tell me the complete truth. Did Ellie personally attack you in the change rooms before training tonight? Don’t lie to me, I’ll ask one of your team mates if you do and I don’t want to hear that their answers were any different to yours.”
I bit down hard on my mouth tissue, there was a part of me that wanted to lie for Ellie, even though it would probably land us in more trouble, there was also a part of me that wanted to hand her in, even though in my eyes she hadn’t really done anything wrong, she’d said her peace.
“We were both giving it to each other, she gave as much as she got. I deserve to sit out a week just as much as she does if we’re referencing words said to each other, we were both rude, we got stuck up in the heat of the moment. I promise you, with every bone in my body that it won’t ever happen again, I swear to you.”
One thing that my brother told me when we were growing up was how to effectively lie. There was an art to the practice of lying. The first rule was body language, everyone had a tell, it was about identifying yours and then figuring out how to stop it or disguise it. For example, my youngest brother would always tap his left foot when he was lying. Rule number two is eye contact. You need to make some, but not so much that it’s creepy. People can tell when you refuse to make eye contact with them, so you need to occasionally. Third is your voice, it needs to be steady, your pitch and tone need to be consistent, one of the easiest tells is a raised voice when you lie. The fourth rule is physical change, this one is probably the hardest, because there isn’t anything you can do to stop yourself if you get clammy hands when you are lying, you just have to disguise it. The fifth and final rule is words, you need to use enough that your sentences are coherent but don’t over-sell yourself, summarise what needs to be said, instead of reading off a whole backstory.
I’d broken number five and two whilst talking to Tony and I could tell that he was picking up on it. He looked between me and the field before calling over one of my teammates.
“Mary, can I have you for a second.”
I gulped down the lump that was forming in the back of my throat when Fowler finished off the drill she was doing and ran over to the sideline to stand beside the coach and I.
“What can I do for you, coach?”
He smiled at her, I’d very quickly noticed that Mary was one of his favourites, rightfully so. She was a hard worker but she was also kind, Matilda’s captain material for the future.
“Can you give me a run down of what happened in the lockers before training between Ellie and y/n, from my understanding there was a small altercation, but both of them aren’t telling me the whole story and I don’t have time for beating around the bush.”
I looked at Mary, silently praying for her to downplay it, maybe she hadn’t heard much of it. She was the one to pick if you wanted an honest answer, she couldn’t lie for the life of her, I knew that much. She bit her lip subtly, thinking thoroughly before she said anything.
“None of us heard how it started, we all knew that y/n/n was the one to drag Ellie over to her locker after Cap spoke to her. They were arguing, it seemed harmless. Until Ellie was yelling in y/n/n’s face.”
Tony nodded at her inquisitively, clearly very invested in what she had to say.
“Did you hear what Ms Carpenter was saying to Ms y/l/n?”
I gulped, shaking my head as subtly as I could at Mary, this whole encounter was a headache.
“Look, it’s not really something I’m comfortable with repeating.”
I knew Mary was trying to be helpful but I also knew that statement was going to backfire on her because it made the whole situation sound a lot worse than it was.
“Mary, if you don’t tell me I will get someone else too, please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
Mary herself gulped anxiously, her eyes frantically darting between Tony and myself. I nodded at her, clearly seeing her distress and just giving her the permission to say her peace, because apparently it was going to get said anyways.
“She was yelling at y/n/n about how y/n/n was selfish and didn’t give a shit about anybody beside herself. I heard her using something about y/n crying in their bathroom at night against her, saying that she was too worried or self obsessed to care about anyone else on the team. I wasn’t close enough though to tell you exactly what either of them said. I was on the other side of the room, Steph was the closest, if you want information I’d be asking her, not me.”
I could feel my hands shaking in my pockets, this whole situation was giving me anxiety.
“Okay then, thank you, can you go fetch Steph for me, just tell her to come over here.”
Mary nodded at coach, before sending me a silent sorry smile before running back out onto the pitch.
Coach pointed to the bench that was on the sidelines a few feet behind us, silently motioning for me to follow him and take a seat down on it.
“Based on what I’ve just been told, I think that Ellie should sit out for a week, her behaviour towards you was unacceptable and she needs to understand there are repercussions for those kinds of situations. Y/n I know that you’ve struggled to find your footing in the team, I’ve seen you struggling with your mental health. I’m here for you if you ever need to talk about it or if you need help. If those struggles mean that you need to separate yourself from the team then that is what you do, regardless of the decisions you make you are a valued member on this team and you don’t deserve to be verbally assaulted because Ellie has a problem with you.”
I pursed my lips, I didn’t think I’d been verbally assaulted, if anything I’d started it.
“Coach, I started it with Ellie. She didn’t even mean what she said, we need her this week, it’s an important game that we can’t afford to have her miss. I don’t want to be the reason we lose this week just because me and Ellie had a minor altercation, it was nothing.”
I couldn’t ignore the deep frown on his face, it was a mixture of concern and disappointment and it went straight to my heart.
“Coach? Mary said you need to speak to me?”
Both of our heads snapped up at the sudden sound of Steph’s voice. She was standing about a foot away from us, her brow furrowed in my direction.
“Steph, yes, I’m just having some trouble understanding the altercation that went down before warm ups with Ms Carpenter and Ms y/l/n. Ms y/l/n is trying to take the whole blame for it and I don’t really believe the whole story that she’s giving me, so if you could please give me some insight it would be much appreciated, as I am taking this very seriously.”
Steph’s eyes went straight to mine, she was my fellow Arsenal team mate, probably the only person on our Matilda’s squad who I could actually call my friend. She was frowning at me deeply, trying to study my facial expression.
“Y/l/n started it, she pulled Ellie up after having a chat with skipper, but from what I heard she was more just annoyed that Ellie had told skipper about some of her more concerning habits. Ellie was mad about being pulled up on it, typical Ellie fashion she took it to heart and she made it personal. I do recall her calling saying something along the lines of if y/n spent less time in their bathroom at nighttime crying about how ‘hard’ her sorry ass life was then she’d realise there were people and things on earth that are more fucking important than you she was, Ellie also made a lot of comments about y/n/n being a selfish person who didn’t give a shit about any of the people around her. Y/n/n might have technically started it but in her defence she didn’t say anything personal or wrong to Ellie, she was just voicing her annoyance about Ellie telling on her to Sam, Ellie was trying to voice her concerns over Y/n/n but it came out wrong and she was trying to make light of a situation that was not hers to talk about in a public space, it was unprofessional and distasteful behaviour from both of them but Ellie was the one who escalated it and made it worse. All y/n really did was tell Ellie to leave her alone and stop pushing, when Ellie did push too far y/n rushed to the bathroom and locked herself in there. Ellie’s behaviour was unacceptable to say the least and I’ve told her, I’m sure Sam will as well once I talk to her about it. I’ve told Ellie she has to apologise to y/n/n and that kind of behaviour won’t be tolerated towards anybody let alone her own teammate.”
Steph’s rundown of the situation was more factual and foolproof then any of the other versions Gustavsson had received and I knew that he was going to believe everything she’d told him.
“Okay, thank you, I really appreciate your transparency on the situation. I made the right call making you interim captain whilst Sam was out. That’s all I should need for now, feel free to go back to what you were doing, I’ll be out there in a minute.”
Once Steph was out of earshot Tony turned to me, clearly a little bit taken aback by all of the information he’d just absorbed.
“You are going to sit out tonight, call it sickness or whatever you please. I want you to stay and watch though, you should be here and you deserve to be here. I’m going to talk to Ellie after training, and just because you don’t seem to want her sitting out I’ll see how remorseful she is and make my roster decision for this weekend based off of that. I know she’s your teammate and you feel like you are taking one for the team by enabling her behaviour towards you and maybe it was a one off, just a heat in the moment thing as you called it. Maybe it wasn’t though, I’m not going to take chances. I want you to think about your own actions as well, think about how you could have dealt with that situation more effectively. Once training’s over you are going to head back to the hotel with the girls and you are going to spend time with them, proper bonding time.”
I nodded at coach, I didn’t have it in me to argue with him.
“Coach, I’m rooming with her.”
It was my main concern, not that Ellie scared me, I’d pretty much ignored her the whole tournament, not that she spent a lot of time in our room anyways, she spent all of her free time until curfew in other teammates rooms.
“Talk to Kerr about it, get her to switch them around, I’m sure it’s not that difficult. Switch rooms, relax for the night, get some sleep, be back here tomorrow. I don’t care whether or not you feel up to training, just be here. This team is your family and whether or not it feels like it they care a lot about you, they are here to support you if you let them. Sometimes you just need to take the leap of faith.”
I nodded at coach. He was a gentle soul, a good one. He reached over to me, offering me a hug and I took it, letting him wrap his arms around my shoulders. It was nice, it didn’t last long but it felt nice. Once he was done giving me a hug he stood up and followed Steph out onto the field.
I found myself gravitating to a spot directly on the sideline, where our team manager was stationed. She didn’t ask any questions as I sat down on the frosty grass beside her station, I was grateful for that much. I hadn’t talked to her much but she seemed lovely and in the very little interactions I had had with her she had gone above and beyond to make me comfortable in whatever we were doing.
I spent my training, sitting on the grass, watching the team as they ran through a few drills and plays before moving into a full scrimmage. I kept my body tucked in, my knees to my chest, my puffer jacket and hoodie wrapped tightly around my legs and torso to pull my knees even further into my chest. It was a blessing that they’d designed waterproof sweatpants, because I would have probably had a cold and wet ass if they hadn’t. Somewhere along the way our team manager offered me a packet of gummy bears and I couldn’t find it in me to decline her offer, so I snacked on the gelatinous pieces of sugar whilst I watched the training slowly come to an end.
They finished with PK’s and then concluded the session. I stayed seated in my little spot, I hoped that no one had spotted me and maybe if I waited for everyone to slip off the field and into the locker rooms I would just be able to hop onto the bus without being detected. My plan pretty much backfired immediately when a certain captain beelined directly towards me, clearly I hadn’t gone unnoticed to her. I grimaced as she got closer to my spot, my spot that my head had deemed as a safe spot from the rest of my teammates.
Sam didn’t even acknowledge me to begin with, instead turning her attention to our team manager, making pretty common conversation with her. She spoke to her for a few minutes, it was afternoon tea talk, just bullshit. Sam’s specialty. Eventually when she finished up she looked down at me, an eyebrow raised. She motioned for me to stand up and follow her, so stupidly, like a puppy, I did. My muscles were cold and I’d be lying if I said that getting up from the ground hadn’t been a little bit harder than I’d predicted. I managed though and caught up to Sam, following after her as she walked back down the tunnel but instead of turning into the locker rooms we kept walking down the corridor until we came to the video review room. It was pretty much just a conference room, one big room with a bunch of tables and chairs that we used to scout and review our own games. Sam closed the blinds to the room, so no bye passers could see in and turned the lights on.
She seated herself at one of the tables, gesturing for me to do the same, so I did. The first thing Sam did was pull out her phone and start typing something or another before looking up at me.
“Steph told me about what happened between you and Ellie.”
I gulped, biting my lip as I tried my hardest to maintain my eye contact with Sam, I wasn’t going to break, not again. I watched as Sam’s finger made its way to her mouth and she bit down on her nail in a questioning kind of way that I couldn’t explain even if I tried.
“I started it, I was pissed off at her for ratting on me to you.”
My honesty would be appreciated, I knew that Sam valued honesty above anything else.
“I don’t really care who started it, I care about togetherness, you know that. This team needs one thing, cohesion. I don’t care who started it, I care about who the problem was and in that situation it was Ellie, she said things that she had no business saying, with the intention of hurting you. That’s enough to tell me that in that situation she was prepared to jeopardise our team just so she could tear down one of our own. I’ve recommended to Tony that she sits out this week. He told me you were apprehensive about it, I wanted to know why.”
There was a simple answer, and a more complex answer, a part of me knew which one Sam wanted.
“Short answer, Ellie is a crucial part of our team, we need her. Long answer, I don’t think she did anything wrong.”
Sam looked up at me, a little bit shocked.
“Look y/n, it’s clear there's been a lot on your mind recently. A lot that you clearly aren’t prepared to share, and that's okay. I saw on the sideline tonight, you looked like you were mentally in a different place, like you were really worried thinking about something and you’ve been like that for a few weeks. I know that you have trust issues, that you are finding it hard to slot into this team because you are scared to be vulnerable. I am here for you, I won’t judge you, I will help you with whatever you need help with, because I can tell there is something and until you do seek out help for it it is only going to destroy you further.”
Sam’s words receded in me, because she was so right that I couldn’t even try to deny it.
“Am I a selfish player and teammate?”
The words felt so raw coming out of my throat, it was something that Ellie had said that had stuck with me.
“No, I can honestly tell you you aren’t. You play football with so much grace and kindness that sometimes it drives me up the wall watching you help up your opponents who have tripped over. You aren’t a selfish person either, you are more reserved, that doesn’t make you selfish, it just makes you self aware, there is a big difference.”
I nodded at Sam, not sure what else there was for me to do. Her words were full of so much wisdom, so much insight. I still couldn’t find it in me to believe them fully though, my self deprecating brain not welcome to accepting any kind of form of praise.
“Look, change is hard. You are young, inexperienced. Staying somewhere that you’ve outgrown though is only going to destroy you. I know this is a big jump, I wouldn’t have reccomended for you to be here though if I didn’t think it was the right fit. You are a world class player, and a genuinely good person. When you smile, it lights up a room. Your laugh is contagious. It’s clear that you’ve never been cared for properly, never let yourself. You have a family now though y/n. You have people that you can go to when you are having a bad day, people that are going to love you no matter what. Use that, take advantage of it. A team doesn’t function without trust.”
There was something about Sams words that told me she actually understood what I was going through, she was dancing on a line of relating to me and giving me advice, the line was a little bit blurred though.
“Do you trust me?”
I let Sam’s words hang in the air for a few seconds, it took me a little while to formulate a reponse.
“I don’t trust anyone, not even myself.”
Sam’s eyes, those brown orbs spoke to me, more than any words ever could to me.
“You don’t think people care for you.”
“Why would people care for me?”
There was so much insecurity behind the words, years of it all built up.
“I care, I’ll always care. Everyone should have somebody to care for them.”
“You have to care, your my captain.”
It was the last bit of defiance leaving my body, the last of my barriers being used.
“Partly, yes. It’s sort of my job. But I save it for the ones who need it and you seem to be in need.”
I rolled my eyes, another defence mechanism that I used to deflect, to avoid my emotions.
“I don’t need help.”
“Maybe not, but when you’re born in a burning house you think the whole world is on fire until someone shows you it isn’t.”
I didn’t fully understand her cryptic but I got the general idea.
“You implying I was born in a burning house?”
Sam’s head tilted, like she wasn’t denying my statement but also didn’t agree with it fully.
“I’m implying that you are here for a reason. That we are all here for different reasons, different driving factors. The difference between you and some of the other girls is that you are letting your past define you, when it doesn’t. The best part of being here is that when you are out on the pitch nobody cares about anything else, nobody could care less about what’s happened in your personal life. Use that, use that to be happy, to find your motivation. Trust me? Let me show you that this team isn’t just a group of girls, it can be your family if you want it to be.”
I looked at Sam flatly trying to figure out how serious she was, when he face didn’t falter I realised how serious she was and that scared me a little bit. I didn’t know if I was ready for that, ready for a family, ready to feel loved and appreciated. It wasn’t soemthing I’d ever really experienced.
“Y’know that it shouldn’t seem remarkable to you that people who love and care for you actually want to treat you well.”
Those words were the straw that broke my back. I couldn’t help but feel the tears well up in my eyes.
“y/n,” Sam’s voice drew my eyes up to her own “You are allowed to cry.”
I shook my head at her, bringing the sleeve of my jumper up to my eyes to rub at the tears escaping my eyes.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you though?”
It was the amount of questioning behind her face that threw me off, I knew she didn’t believe me but the amount of concern laced into her facial expression hit some place in my heart I didn’t know I had.
“You know that it’s okay to not be fine all the time. You are allowed to have feelings, to feel things other than numb. Look, feeling hurts. Life is pain, life is suffering. Being alive hurts, it’s horror and it sucks. But you are alive and it’s spectacular and brilliant because instead of just living you are alive.”
I continued rubbing at my eyes, trying my best to stop any of the tears running down my face.
“I’ll think about it cap, I think it’s about time for me to head back to the hotel.”
Before I could get up and completely leave the room Sam got in her final words.
“There are poeple around that would miss you y/n/n, people who would be gutted if anything ever happened to you. Just think about that.”
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itostea · 11 months
Text
never mad (isagi x reader)
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warnings: a tad bit suggestive, isagi just being the best bf, he comforts you
a/n: image from Our Secret Alliance! childhood friends to lovers omg so cute pls read it.
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You’re not sure when the argument started or why you’re even angry. 
Angry might be an exaggeration but you were feeling a smudge of irritation directed at your boyfriend who was far too calm at the sight of your scowl. He has that sweet smile of his, the kind he wears whenever he’s holding your hand or parting a strand of hair away from your face. It’s the kind of smile that you can’t ever stay mad at. 
“Yoichi I’m telling you, she was a hundred percent hitting on you!”
“Right, right,” he lets himself be dragged by your hand and he can’t help but sigh at how good you looked with the necklace he bought for you. The streets were crowded and there were couples left and right, holding hands or chatting on the side. The two of you blend in perfectly–though there were times where a fan of his recognized him and you stood on the sidelines, letting them take their photos.
The drink you hold in your other hand swirls around in the cup and you bring the cup to your lips, taking a long sip. “I mean, she even winked at you! Who even does that? And I was right beside you, holding your hand!” 
“Uh huh,” he mutters absentmindedly, tilting his head when you swing your head to face him with a frown. He blinks and just smiles, a bit confused as to why your frown grew deeper. 
Your footsteps slow down in pacing. “Are you even listening to me?” 
“Of course I am babe.”
You let out a huff and turn around too swiftly, colliding into him with a yelp. In a normal situation, you would’ve swooned over the fact that he caught you–his arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other one holds the back of your neck. Yet, you can’t help but feel your stomach plunge deeper when you see the brown stain on his favorite shirt. 
“Are you okay?” He mumbles, widening his eyes when he sees how your features morph into a frown and how you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. This time, he takes your hand in his, guiding you to an occupied bench. “Let’s go sit down.”
“What’s wrong?” He asks, letting you clean the splatters on his arm with a tissue. 
“It’s just…” you start, leaning back when you’re done cleaning. “I…”
Isagi sees how your eyes gloss over; how you part your lips to release a shaky sigh. He’s quick to cup your face, smiling so gingerly that you felt like you could cry even harder. “Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your make-up.”
The sniffle you let out makes him chuckle. You nod. “Okay…” 
“Start from the beginning,” his hands leave your face and he watches you patiently–letting you catch your breath. 
“I’m so stupid Yoichi,” you sighed. “I don’t even know why I couldn’t forget about that girl like I usually do. You weren’t even paying attention to her and now I ruined your favorite shirt. I also ruined our date together and you’re probably mad at me so–”
“Why would I be mad at you?” He interrupts, maintaining eye-contact with a serious gaze. 
You blink, sniffling again. “You’re not?”
He smiles, nodding his head until his hand tilts your head upward so the tears wouldn’t spill from your eyes. “I can’t get mad at you even if I tried to.”
“Even if I steal your food?”
“I don’t mind.”
“Even if I tell you Michael Kaiser is a better player than you?”
His lips curl into a sarcastic smile and he squeezes your cheeks. “Don’t push it now…”
You laugh and the sound brings joy to his ears. He ushers you up with a hum, letting you take his hand. He presses a kiss to your forehead, bringing you close to him. “How about we spend the rest of our date at home? We can watch a few movies and eat some snacks. You know, Netflix and chill,” his lips fall into a smirk and you forget your boyfriend sometimes derives joy from seeing you flustered.
You slap him lightly, averting your eyes. “Okay fine we can watch movies and eat snacks. And maybe Netflix and chill…” you mumble the last part loud enough for him to hear, earning a laugh from him. 
He squeezes your hand midway in between your walk back to the car. “Did I ever tell you that you’re cute when you get jealous?”
“Shut up.”
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obsessedwrhys · 2 months
Text
Aesthete
(adj.) Someone with a deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ where Abby let's you draw a portrait of her
c/w: fluff, reader is female because I refuse to believe she's straight 😡, abby being insecure (?), gun talk, some cursing, just two lesbos bickering like a married couple, kissing, did not proof read this!!
ᯓ★
Inside your shared room, you somehow found yourself painting on another canvas after just telling yourself you'd be done with your last one. Since you were a kid, you've always been drawn towards anything that had to do with brushes and colours. It was better spending your time painting rather than talking to people, they were always rude or just straight off insensitive. All except for someone...
Abby...
She always adored your skills. Everytime you were assigned to go on patrols together, she would just peek her head from behind your shoulder to see what you were doodling in your journal. Out of everyone you knew, she was the one constantly bragging about your drawings to her friends. And you guys aren't even dating!!
Yet... which you always liked to tell yourself.
With your brush applying another soft stroke on the canvas, you started to grow bored of it, another idea already crawling up from the back of your mind. Maybe you could try doing a portrait, you have the experience but you just don't have the subject. Almost out of instinct, you knew who to find. Pretty much the only person you'd figure would be fine with this.
Abandoning your brush and pallette on the round chair, you decided to leave and try to find Abby. It wasn't hard to find her since she would spend almost all of her time in the gym. Swinging open the glass door, you headed in and walked past several other WLFs who were also training, your eyes glued to one person.
There she was, doing bench presses as usual.
You decided to stop a few feet away from where she was, almost like you were in a trance from watching her biceps flex each time she lifted the heavy weight. Not wanting to be seen as a creep, which you already have, you walked closer to make your presence known. "Hey Abby" You said with a smile. Your voice startling her a bit.
"Oh, hey" She said before setting the weight back to its rightful place. She sits up on the bench as she looks at you with a friendly smile. "You need anything?" She said, always kind and polite towards you that it somehow made you feel all giddy inside.
"I was wondering if you'd liked to be the subject of a portrait I'm doing" You said and your words struck her a bit. She looked like she just received news of something big. "Uhh... if you're worried about the portrait turning out ugly, I promise I'll be extra focused on the details" You said, figuring if that was the reason behind her reaction.
"Huh? Ah no, I wasn't worried about that. I'm just surprised you'd pick me" She chuckles awkwardly as she stands up, her height scaring you a bit. "Did you expect me to pick someone else?" You asked, the two of you walking side by side.
"Well... maybe I figured you'd choose someone more... elegant" She said, holding the door open for you to go first. "Elegant?" You scoff out of amusement.
"Didn't you show me one of your books? Where all of the people drawn were wearing those tight dresses and having their hair up so high" Abby said, recalling the memory.
"Pssh, that's different, trust me, I know what I'm doing" You opened the door to your room, inviting her inside.
"Whatever you say" She responded with a playful smile. Once you closed the door, her eyes were already examining around the room that's messy from all of your art stuff.
"Seems like you didn't take my advice" She said, looking at the stack of books you had thrown along with the pile of discontinued drawings.
"I'll do that later" You said dismissively since you realised everytime you cleaned your supplies, you were always gonna use it and make a mess anyways, best to save it for a day where you have the energy to clean.
"Soo uhh... what do I...?" Abby walks over to where you're busy setting a brand new canvas.
"You can just sit at the sofa so you can be right in front of me" You said, putting everything in place and she just does what you instructed. She finds herself seated in front of you and it somehow made her shy. Does she pose or...? This is all new to her.
"You can move your body around a bit, just try not to move your head a lot, so uh... relax" You said, already picking up your brush. "Got it" She said as she leans back onto the cushion.
With your focus on the portrait, you failed to notice the way she was watching you, her gaze was full of warmth and admiration. She was eyeing your every move as if she was watching a film.
"I never got to ask, how did you learn to paint?" Abby said and it made you stop in your act to think it over. "Can't remember exactly when, I just knew it was fun to do so I kept doing it" You simply responded and she smiles softly at your answer. "Fun huh? Is that why you're doing a portrait of me?" She said and her playful tone made you almost freeze in place.
"I guess you could say that" You said, your hand carefully doing the shades of her face. The room remained quiet for a moment, just faint sounds of your brush mixing together different colours on your pallete. "Can you lift your head up a bit?" You asked and she does just that. "Perfect" You said and quickly press your brush back on the canvas.
Your eagerness had her struggle to contain a smile. "If only you were this passionate about your gun training" She said since this was a topic that you could care less about.
"I don’t really like guns, it's too violent for me"
"True... but its also the reason why you're still alive. C'mon, at least fix your aim" She said which had you turn to look at her.
"Whats wrong with my aim?"
"Errr..." She trails off, struggling to find the right words but you were well aware of what she was trying to say. "Just try not to have your bullets flying everywhere" She said, her response having you raise an eyebrow at her.
"... don't make me draw a hairy moustache on you" You threatened which had her laugh.
"Am I supposed to find that scary?" She asked to which you pointed the end of your paintbrush at her to warn her to be careful of her next words. This action just encouraging her even more but for her sake of not wanting a horrendous looking moustache on her portrait, she'll stop.
After a while, she let's out a soft sigh. "Getting tired?" You asked, your face hidden by the canvas so she couldn't see you.
"A bit" She admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. Your head peaks from the side of canvas, trying to mimic the sweat that was still present on her forehead due to her earlier workout.
Without even realising, you were basically staring at her face a little too hard. It was funnier from Abby's perspective cause all she could see was your pair of eyes staring at her so intensely. "Am I too far away? You're looking pretty hard" She joked, pointing out how your brows were slightly narrowed.
You ended up shushing her which she found amusing. "I'm thinking, don't disrupt my thoughts" You said.
"Yes ma'am"
After a couple of minutes, you managed to finish the portrait, just a few details here and there then you were finally satisfied with yourself. "You can get up now" You said as you carefully added some tiny dots or lines. Abby pushed herself off the sofa and stood beside you.
"Damn" She said, blown away by the portrait you had done of her. It was like a reflection in a mirror. "What are you gonna do with it?" Abby asked as you stepped back to finally admire your work. "I don't know... maybe I'll hang it up somewhere in my room" You said. This caught her interest almost immediately. "You want a portrait of me in your room?" She asked, seeming embarrassed.
"Well do you want it in your room?" You asked which made her go silent.
"It's fine, I really don't mind, you'd be surprised by how many scary things I've painted and displayed on my walls" You said, carefully picking up the canvas and moving it to the other side of the room. Abby simply follows you with her arms folded.
"Comparing my face to scary things doesn't make it sound any better" She said and you could sense a tiny hint of frustration in her tone which had you chuckle to yourself. "Stop being a baby and help me hang this up" You said after finding a open spot on the wall to put it.
"You.are.unbelievable" She shakes her head slightly with a defeated smile as she takes the canvas from your hand before standing on the chair to hang it on to the nail.
Once she was done, she stepped down from the chair to stand beside you. The two of you now staring at the portrait.
"I have to admit, you're really gifted" Abby said and it made you turn your head to look at her. "Thanks" You smiled at her compliment. The second she turns to look at you, you felt yourself melt at her stare as if her blue eyes were hypnotising you. You swore for a second you could see hearts popping up around her.
Why is she looking at you like that?
Like you're the single most beautiful thing she has ever seen
"If you uh don't mind... could I stay for a while?" She asked, her voice so soft it was intoxicating.
"Sure" You blurted out without even thinking twice.
Noticing how flustered you looked, Abby tilts her head with a grin. "You okay?" She asked but her tone was anything but concern, it was like she was teasing you, knowing the effect she had on you.
"Yeahh, I'm good" You turned around and began walking back to your supplies, feeling as though you needed to escape her presence quickly to be able to think straight.
"Are you sure? Cause you looked like you wanted to kiss me just now" She said and it stopped you from reaching out to your brushes. Your mind was short circuiting.
Fuck this woman...
"And what if I said I wanted to?" You managed to say since it was easier that you weren't looking at her.
Suddenly you could hear her footsteps approaching you from behind, almost like each step she took added a weight in your chest. The tension on you shoulders relaxed the moment you felt her hands placed on them, gently, she turned you around to have you face her.
"Then kiss me" She said, no, pleaded. Her face showing how much she also wanted this.
You leaned in closer to her, the two of you haven't even kissed yet but just from the feeling of your chests pressed together made you both breathless. Eventually you pressed your lips on hers, taking it slow as you wanted to savour this moment, but it didn't last long as the desperation started to grew.
Within seconds, you were kissing Abby hard and she did the same, her hand wrapped around the back of your neck while the other is placed on your hip. The kiss was messy. Your hands grabbing at whatever you could on her body as you were completely lost in the taste of her.
Your touch was driving her crazy as well, thinking back to the countless nights of how she much she wanted this. To have you this close, to have you melt just from her lips. Out of breath and feeling tired, you pulled away but Abby didn't let you and quickly pulled you back in for another kiss. Her action causing you to yelp and for a sec she felt her stomach flip. She chuckles.
"So pretty" She muttered before pressing her lips back on yours again and again, not wanting the moment to end.
"Abby..." You laid your hands on her arms and she pulled back to admire you. The mess she had made of you.
"Yes...?" She said, gently caressing your face.
"You keep kissing me and I'm gonna pass out" You said and your words had her chuckle softly.
"Sorry, can't help it when your lips are so sweet" She said, her thumb rubbing on your cheek affectionately.
"Did you think this would happen when you asked me to come over?" She asks.
"Ummm... maybe?" You said. You had a feeling something might happen but you never thought it'd turn out like this.
"I've just liked you for a very long time but I wasn't sure you felt the same" You confessed and her smile grew wider.
"Seriously? What, was me bragging about you to everyone not obvious enough? Should I have been starting a fan club for you so you'd find out better?" She teased and you smacked her on the shoulder playfully.
"Maybe you should, then I'd know that you actually liked me" She sighs, pretending to act like she's regretting this missed opportunity.
"You're right. Maybe if I did start a massive fan club dedicated to you, we would of had this kiss sooner" She said, leaning in closer to have her forehead rested on yours.
"Well we're here now aren't we?" You looked up at her, a smirk on your face.
"True" She then started to move and you couldn't help but let your eyes flutter close, waiting for her to kiss you again but somehow the feeling of her lips on yours never came.
You opened your eyes and found her actually moving her lips inches away from your ears instead. "How about we clean your room now, hm?" She said which had you in disbelief. She was now reminding you of how dirty your room is after just kissing you.
"If tidying up my things is so much fun then sure" You moved away from her but she was quick to follow you.
"If I get to spend more time with you, I don't see anything boring about it" Abby said, already on to arrange your stack of unorganised books. You watch her with a look of gratitude, knowing this mess is gonna take a very long time to clean.
"Thanks Abs"
"You can thank me with a kiss after we're done" She shoot you a cheeky smile which had you roll your eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards.
"Fine" You stood beside her to help with putting your books in order. Seeing how focused you were, Abby couldn't help but have her hip nudging yours on purpose to get your attention. You chuckle, knowing this cleaning session is gonna take a while.
(Now I'm gonna do super duper angst Ellie, this plot has been stuck on my mind 😄)
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misslovasstuff · 8 months
Text
When love finds you
Sanji x reader
“I have not once been in love, ever.” - you claim, looking at the burning fire in front of you, as Sanji stands as a nice companion in a starless night. It was you and him who just finished dinner and decided to stay outside for a bit longer whilst others have already surrendered to sleep.
“Well, I was hoping you would have. - he’s sitting in a wooden bench, a few steps away from you. - Perhaps you could have told me how it feels like.”
Your eyes widen at his remark. You turn your gaze at him and ask: “you…have never loved before either?”
Sanji shakes his head as he lights up a cigarette and places it between his lips, not long after exhaling the smoke:
“To be precise, I have loved, a lot… but to fall in love with someone… to take their sorrows and make them yours so they do not experience any kind of suffering, to wake up everyday with the purpose to see them smile, to go to the end of the world and give them everything that they could ever ask for. - he pauses for a little and then looks at you in the eyes as if the point he was going to make required your reaction. - Who’s willing to feel this way for me?”
“I see. - you shift your gaze in the sky. - You can’t fall for someone who’s not going to catch you?”
“To love all is easier, then your affections are split to multiple people, but to give all that feeling to one person… it’s like drying up and begging for water.”
You listen carefully, a small giggle escaping your mouth.
“Hmm? - Sanji looks at you, confused. - Hey, what’s so funny?”
“Who would have thought, the ‘gentleman’ Sanji, the ‘I love ladies’ Sanji was so thoughtful and perceptive… I didn’t.” - you explain, giving a small smile.
“Well, you’re not wrong. I love the ladies. - he smiles, coming closer and leaning to you. - Very very much.”
“Right, I got the idea.” - I push him away jokingly, then pull a few strands of hair behind his ear.
“You know, about the falling in love thing. - you start explaining, voice soft and gentle. - Don’t rush it. I think the moment you fall in love, is when you least expect it.”
Sanji widens his eyes and looks at yours. His cheeks turn red and he had a shocked but still soft expression on his face. Sort of, going through a small epiphany.
“What about you? - he shifts his gaze fast, leaning back with his palms touching the wood he was sitting on, head tilted against your direction. - What’s stopping you from falling in love?”
There’s a short pause before you gather your thoughts. Really, you never thought something was stopping you, rather…
“It’s very hard for me to accept affection. - you claim, also leaning back in the same position as Sanji. - I feel undeserving of it and most of the time doubt if it’s genuine or not.” - you tilt your head against him, resting it on your shoulder and touching his hand softly. - But I do seek it. I crave it, in many ways. And this thirst makes me afraid to fall for someone.” It’s like… giving so much of yourself and… seeking water, as you said.”
Sanji listens attentively, realising your common perspectives of this torturing subject. He places his hand in your waist, bringing your closer to his embrace.
“Well, I don’t think there is such thing as ‘undeserving of love’. - he claims, caressing your arm. - If anything, you don’t deserve to feel unlovable. Holding yourself back like that… - he gazes at your face and you notice, gazing back. - that’s no good…”
A short moment passes by as your eyes feed his. Although Sanji and you see each other everyday, this was the first time you were looking at him differently, wondering, what changed?
The first one to snap out of this kind of magic that lured both in, was you.
“Oh well, that was a nice talk. - you pat his shoulder, slowly drifting away from his embrace in which you had found an unknown comfort. Factually, you wanted to wrap your hands around him, feel his warmth and the sound of his laughter. You wanted to draw stars with him tonight at the bare night sky.
And yet… between all these doubts, although you made the first step to leave, now your feet stop and you’re standing up, looking down at your feet as if they were acting on their own.
“Goodnight then, thank you for the talk. I appreciate that you opened up with me.” - Sanji also stands up, lighting off his cigarette and dusting his pants off. - Hmm?”
He’s confused as he notices you not moving at all.
“Are you waiting for me so we can walk to the ship together?” - he asks, hands on his pockets as he approaches you.
With a nod, you smile, which Sanji mirrors.
“Ah, I see. Then let me put off this fire first.” …
Now there was some sort of tension you could not explain. You were walking in close proximity as it was natural to be drawn to each other.
You take a glimpse of his hands. Your pinky tries to touch it, at least brush it off.
“Woah look! - Sanji points out at the sky suddenly. - A star!”
“Huh? - you flinch out of shock and then sighing after his words. - Oh what do you know, a single star appears in the sky. Kinda poetic, don’t you think?”
You cross your arms and Sanji smiles whilst looking up.
“It’s beautiful.” - he claims, fondly.
“Yes, - you respond, gazing at how his golden hair shine under the moonlight, how is eyes sparkle as if he held an entire galaxy in them. What was a mere star compared to Sanji? It was far away but to you, Sanji felt further, like a dream you could reach but not hold now.
“Even if it stands alone, it still makes a difference.” - he says, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Yes, it made you happy that’s for sure.” - you smile as you both continue to walk.
“I was already quite happy.” - he says with a gentle expression on his face. Yet it felt like he wanted to say more, or rather, he wanted you to understand more, to connect with him and know what his eyes are trying to tell.
“Is that so?” - you look away, your hand brushing against his.
“So.” - Sanji blushes at your touch. He also looks away, intertwining his hand with yours fully.
The night was long, as it’s the journey. But remember, when love finds you, let it heal you and make you believe again.
Perhaps you’ll find yourselves drawing stars in the night sky.
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pathetic-sapphic · 9 months
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Thank you for doing my request! Your write wonderfully. And of course it’s ok that you do it for the male characters! U don’t need permission from me this is your account and your writing, you do what you want :) and also if you’re gonna do it can you add Grayson to the list? Tysmm 🤍
Arcane men with a S/O who has anxiety
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VIKTOR likes to use the slow and gentle approach when helping you during harder times. He understands what it's like to have doubts and feel as if all eyes are on you, just waiting for you to make the wrong move or fail. He will ground you by gently taking hold of your hand and kissing the back of it, whispering how everything is going to be alright and that he is right next to you. If he sees you panicking and your breathing getting heavier, he will lead you outside to get some fresh air. Viktor will sit next to you on a bench, winding his arm around you and drawing soft circles along the length of your spine until you've calmed down. Overall, he is a very gentle and patient lover who will be there for you no matter what, always reassuring you and helping you regain your peace. Viktor is forever your safe space.
''There we go, darling. It's okay, just breathe. No no, do not apologize, there is no place I'd rather be than right here next to you. Trust me. You know I'd never lie to you. Remember how many times have you stood by my side whenever I felt panicked or lacked faith in myself? Exactly, so now I'm going to do the same thing for you. I love you and I want to help you, I want to be your safe space. Now, just take my hand and tell me what's bothering you. I'll always be here to listen, sweetheart.''
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Let's be honest for a bit, JAYCE is a himbo through and through, meaning that it might take a while for him to pick up on your anxious tendencies. He might even mistake your nervous fidgeting for excitement which definitely doesn't help your situation. You're going to have to tell him outright what you're struggling with, but once you do, he is your biggest supporter. Jayce is good with words and he is hopelessly in love with you so he is quick to beat down any feeling of self-doubt you might feel. He is basically your rock, always standing by your side and letting you lean on him whenever you need it. Jayce is like a loyal puppy, always following you and making sure you have whatever your heart might wish, he basically treats you like royalty. He is at your beck and call, ready to help you out or just hold you whenever you feel bad or your anxiety gets the best of you.
''What's wrong, babe? Come here, sit on my lap, and tell me what happened. Oh, baby, I wish you told me earlier you struggled with all this, I would have been able to help you sooner then. Tell you what, whenever you feel like that again, feel free to seek me out and I'll help you feel better in no time! Don't be ridiculous, you're much more important than my job, I wouldn't be where I am if it wasn't for all of your support during all these years. Now, let me do the same for you and be your support, alright? Good, I love you so much, babe.''
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By being a leader at such a young age and carrying such a heavy burden, EKKO is well aware of how hard it can be to try and mask any doubts or insecurities you may have. He could always rely on you whenever things got too hard and now he wants to be there for you too. Once you reveal all the things that have been plaguing you for a while, he pulls you into a long, tight hug. His heart hurts just by thinking about all the things you had to go through on your own. How many nights have you spent crying yourself to sleep while he unknowingly slumbered away next to you? He decided that it ultimately doesn't matter because it'll never happen again. He knows you'd feel bad or as if you're bothering him by confiding in him about your worries but he reassures you that you could never be a burden to him. What would truly bother him is his beloved suffering in silence while he is unaware of all the hardships they're going through.
''Oh, firefly, why didn't you tell me you've been struggling so much? I could have been there for you and helped you! It doesn't matter, it's not your fault, just don't do it anymore, okay? You are never a burden to me, don't you dare think that. You deal with just as much trouble as I do and even if you didn't, that still doesn't mean you can't rely on me when you need it. I'm here for you, babe, and I want you to look for me and tell me whenever you're not feeling well. I'll always make time for you.''
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VANDER is often very busy so you might think you can hide your troubles from him since most of the time he is either off running the Last Drop or taking care of his kids. However, he is a very observant and intelligent man, not to mention a very caring one so he quickly picks up on your sour mood. He will invite you to a storage room behind the bar, asking Benzo to take over for a bit. Vander will sit next to you on a squeaky old couch and take your hands into his, laying them upon his lap. Carefully, he will ask you what's got you so upset lately and once the floodgates open, he wastes no time in pulling you into his embrace. He will kiss the top of your head and rub his big hands along your back, cursing himself for letting it get this bad. Vander calms you down and comforts you, making you promise him that you'll make sure to communicate your feelings to him in the future. He hates seeing you cry and is ready to do whatever it takes to make a smile reappear on your pretty face.
''Come here, darlin'. It's okay, I've got you now, you can cry as much as you like. I'm sorry I didn't notice how bad you've been feeling sooner. It must've been so hard for you, my love. Shh, don't apologize, it's not your fault that you're feeling this way. We all feel like that sometimes and I'll always be here for you whenever it happens, alright? I love you so much, my darlin', now let me see that beautiful smile. There it is, it's like the sun is shinning right at me. You are my sunshine and I won't let anyone dim your light or take away your warmth, got that?''
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SILCO can be surprisingly kind behind closed doors. It's no secret that he has a soft spot for you and will treat you as a priority, along with his daughter of course. He quickly picks up on your fidgety and nervous form but trusts you to confide in him when you're ready. When that doesn't happen and he notices your state getting worse with the days passing by, he invites you to his office. He will make you sit in his lap and explain your troubles to him while he tentatively listens and clings to your every word. Once you're finished, Silco will gently cup your face and lift it so your eyes meet his. He will tell you how proud he is of you and how grateful he is for your trust. Next, he will reassure you that your troubles are never an issue to him and that you always have a safe space in his office. Whatever you may need, whatever your heart may wish, he is ready to grant it as long as it means it will return that beautiful smile to your lovely face. He dedicates the rest of the evening to making sure you're feeling relaxed and well-rested, banishing any negative thoughts out of your pretty little head. He may be a criminal mastermind, but to you, he is your kind and gentle boyfriend, always ready to serve you and dedicate his time and effort towards assuring your comfort and happiness.
''Come here, darling. Yes, sit right here and look at me. Please? There you are. Now, are you ready to tell me what has been bothering you so much lately? Lying is futile, my dear, do you think I haven't noticed how fidgety and distant you've been for the past few days? I just thought I'd give you time to approach me and confide in me. Seeing as that hasn't happened yet, I am now giving you an opportunity to explain what has been going on inside that pretty little head. I see, I wished you'd told me all that sooner, it would have saved you the trouble and suffering, beloved. No matter, I'm here now and I am aware of your situation, thank you for trusting me with this, I know it can be hard to talk about such things. Now, how about we take a bath and have dinner together, hm? It'll help you relax and take your mind to a hopefully more pleasant place. Perfect, wait for me in the bathroom, I'll be with you in a minute, my dear.''
a/n: i will add grayson in a separate post for arcane milfs :)
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