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floppydiskettess · 1 year

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VALORANT AGENTS REACTING TO THEIR S/O GETTING INJURED ON A MISSION

featuring - sage, killjoy, cypher, yoru, sova, gekko, viper

a/n : cyphers part contains a lot of angst and alcohol talk. i couldnt let it ALL be fluff 😋

✮~ Sage ~✮

literally the sweetest ever, but this doesn't need to be said

if its a minor injury, she will definitely be giving you a talk about being safer and how to prevent that from happening

"but what if it was something more serious? something even I couldn't heal? you must be more careful angel."

if her s/o was harmed badly, she would do two things.

one, she would immedietely drop everything and rush towards healing you, this woman will stay up all night trying to heal you and make sure that there is not so much as a scratch left on your body. she would definitely overwork herself but making sure you are alright is all that matters.

two, the second you are stable and resting, she is going to find out whichever enemy agent hurt you and fuck. them. up.

im talking full battle sage, she will have no mercy if the injury they caused was threatening enough.

she may excude sweet and kind energy but she is one scary lady when the people she loves are harmed

she knows exactly how damaged a body must be for it to be unfixable.

"I'm so sorry I couldn't be there my dear, but they won't be hurting you again."

she will be watching you carefully, even asking brimstone to take you off of missions for a short time or asking him to keep an eye on you.

she doesn't know what she would do if she lost you..

☻︎~ Killjoy ~︎︎☹︎

she blames herself, how could she not? she designed most of the stuff...it must be a error in her inventions.

she will work night and day trying to figure out what happened. was it a weapon error? did the gun she designed for you malfunction? oh no was she to blame for anyone elses injuries?!

it would take a lot of reassurance for her to calm down. after all, this wouldn't have happened if she had been more careful...right?

"Mein gott...you scared me. I thought I lost you schatzi..."

she is going to be by your side after sage discharges you from her infirmary. expect lots of physical affection (if your comfortable with it.) and care.

she will treat you as if you were glass about to break. you will not be doing any chores while you recover.

oh you need to work on a mission report? its already finished and submitted. you are hungry? she would cook a lovely meal her parents would make her when she was sick. (with the help of some other agents...shes probaly not a great cook lets be honest..)

"KJ...Sage gave me the all clear! I can do it!"

" Nein nein! You are going to rest mein Häschen! I don't want you straining yourself!"

♖~ Cypher ~♖

if you get injured, be it minor or major. this man will WORRY.

he already lost everything, he cannot lose you either. if he did...he would have nothing.

when sage showed up at his door covered in blood and bruises. he knew something went wrong.

you told him you were going on a small mission. just an in and out radianite extraction at an abandoned lab. he had no reason to worry...right?

when he heard what had happened, he was devastated. what was supposed to be a quick mission turned out to be a setup. what makes it worse? you were alone at your site.

he will be thinking the worst. what if you...? if he had only done a more detailed check on the lab...maybe he could have protected you. but he didn't. he feels like he failed.

you spend weeks in the recovery bay, lying unconcious.

he spends those weeks without you in his lab drinking the memories away and trying to figure out what happened.

he just cannot function with the thought of losing you at the back of his mind at all times.

he knows he was caught when viper appears at his doorway with a concerned glare and a solemn looking sage in tow. he can't remember most of it, but viper was worried? about him?

soon he was also transported to sages infirmary. getting put on nutrients and oxygen. it was obvious he was not taking care of himself without your presence

when you wake up, he would be right there cradling your cheek with his hand. his mask nowhere in sight. all that matters was that you were safe now

"يا حياتي..i was so scared i lost you"

he will never forget his past, but he looks forward to his future with you.

can you tell i like cypher guys :)

☁︎~ Yoru ~☁︎

do not even get me started on this man

he would be extremely angry.

but is it at you, the others, or maybe himself?"

upon hearing the news, he would immediately check on you. seeing your unconcious body just makes something in him snap. the thought that someone had done this to you...he plants a soft kiss to your temple, before storming out of the infirmary.

for the next few days, he would lash out at everyone around him. sage came around to bring him some food as he had not left his room and he just...lost it.

he wasn't even sure who he was yelling at, who he was blaming for what happened. poor sage looked petrified and the others seemed to gather the idea yoru didn't want to be talked too right now.

with no word from anybody about your condition, he lay down on his bed and cried numbly. every night he would teleport into where sage had kept you to heal. he would sit in silence staring at your asleep face before always kissing your forehead goodbye. in hopes that somehow, you would wake up.

he went to your room and grabbed some sweaters of yours, every night he slept with them for comfort, clinging onto them as if they were going to leave him too.

when you wake up, he won't care about keeping his mysterious "badass" persona up. he will be at your side holding your hand and crying.

"please be more careful 私の日光...i don't know what i would do if i lost you."

when sage discharges you, he will be glued to you. he will simple little things for you (such as opening doors for you.)

his love language is definitely acts of service

if you teased him about this though, he will never admit to it.

he will be doing simple things such as cooking meals, cleaning up, and helping you finish any work you have

he is so domestic

he may not be super outwardly affectionate, but with each small favour he does for you he is putting all of his love into it.

𖦹~ Sova ~𖦹

sova is literally the most caring boyfriend...like ever..

if its a minor injury, he will treat it (if sage and skye are off on a mission).

he will definitely lightly scold you, not to be mean! just because he hates seeing you hurt and in pain.

"ангел. please be more careful next time..you know i hate seeing you upset."

if it was a major injury though, he is relatively the same.

he isn't scared to cry infront of the others, when he gets the news that your mission went south he was crying into sages shoulder.

he would stay with you the entire recovery. sage had to keep kicking him out at nighttime but eventually she realized she couldn't stop him. she simply would bring meals for him whenever he would forget to eat.

he would sit and tell you about his day, how the missions were going, even the silly schenanigans that the younger agents were pulling

"yoru tried to get revenge on phoenix for his prank but it went so bad ангел. he entered his rift and jumped out to scare him, but reyna happened to have just been passing by! she was absolutely livid родная. i have never seen our dear riftwalker so terrified!" he chuckled

when you woke up, he was still there lightly snoring against the chair sage had brought him.

when he woke up, he was thrilled, his eyes immediately lighting up like a childs

"have you been sitting here the whole time?"

"of course my dear. as if i would leave you."

߷~ Gekko ~߷

as the newest agent, he hasn't known you for very long. your relationship was coming up to a few months old but he hadn't told you how much he loved you yet.

so naturally, when he heard you were injured he was terrified

he knew this job was dangerous! he just never thought it would be you getting injured...he also never really thought of anyone getting badly injured

he was training with harbour when he overheard a mission going wrong...a mission you were on.

he would rush to the infirmary overloading sage with questions about you

"Sage!! Finally...que pasó?? Neon told me something happened on the mission?!"

Appariently, you had gotten caught in a fight with the enemy Breach and he hit you with his aftershock.

He didn't know much about Breach, but he knew that man had quite a bit of strength in his abilities (being like...bionic you know?"

After some skillful and strategic convincing (pathetic and annoying begging) Sage agreed to take him to see you.

When he caught sight of you lying in the bed staring up at the ceiling, he let out a big sigh he didn't even know he was holding.

"Mi sol! Oh mierda I was so worried! What happened?"

He would be sitting patiently listening to you explain what happened. All while staring at you softly.

"Shooottt...sounds like you had a busy mission! I am just happy you made it back cariño."

☠︎︎~ Viper ~ ☠︎︎

if you were minorly injured, it was probably from tinkering with her poison vials and one leaked onto your fingers

after hearing your grunt in pain, she turns around and her eyes widen, rushing towards you.

"Idiot, I said not to touch anything!"

she swears under her breath before wiping it away and rubbing some sort of cream onto your hand

"Honestly..who would touch something containing poison WITHOUT protection?"

her biggest fear? her poison causing you harm.

so what if a mission were to go wrong and you happened to step into a bubble of her poison?

it was a genuine wrong place wrong time situation. she had a poison bubble deployed and sitting on the ground, as she activated it she looked up to see your frame walking overtop of it.

she shouts to get you to move, but you don't hear her in time. next thing she knows, you are on the ground out cold with green and purple lines all over your face.

she quickly would call for backup, holding you tight but trying to avoid the chemical burns.

when she is back to safety, she rushes to sage's infirmary with your barely warm body in her arms

unfortunately, the poison had seeped into some open wounds you had. causing it to spread throught your body. viper leaves sage alone to do her job, pacing back and forth outside.

she knew how strong her poison could be, but she also knew how strong your body was. you would survive. you had too.

after a few hours, a tired sage walks out and nods, signaling it went well.

viper rushed into the room and immediately looked at your sleeping face, wincing at the fading bloodshot lines on your face.

"i'm so sorry love..please wake up soon"

she would wait by your side holding your hand and occasionally planting soft kisses to the back of your hand.

she knew you would be ok, but she couldn't help but feel bad that her miscommunication and carelessness caused this to happen to you.

when you wake up, she would be whispering soft apologies into your ear

"i promise...you will never feel this pain again my dear."

a/n : holy shit guys!!!! this took a while!! i spent a good 4 hours writing all this JDJSBSJSKSKSN its probably cringe im sorry

but yeah! i tried my best to write this with a gender neutral reader in mind but in some of these its definitely a bit more fem reader leaning! also i do not speak any of the languages spoken in this so if i made a mistake or used something wrong PLEASE let me know so I can fix it!!!

#valorant headcanons #valorant x reader #yoru x reader #viper x reader #sage x reader #sova x reader #cypher x reader #gekko x reader #killjoy x reader #valorant #valorant x y/n #valorant x you #y/n not used #but its implied #headcanons #ooc post #valorant fanfiction

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starkidmunson · 1 month

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glitter & crimson

Steve comes home from his first post-injury workout drenched in sweat and throws himself onto the sofa on his back. Robin winces as she watches him go, raising an eyebrow.

“That bad?” She asks, to which Steve groans in response.

“They want me to wear a bubble.” Steve responds, digs his hand around inside the gym bag still attached to his side and lifts out the full face mask.

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea, protect your face at least.” Robin observes, only to be met by a glare from Steve. His facial expressions are making a triumphant return as he regains more control over his face as the wound heals, and he’s taking full advantage of his bitchy looks whenever he can.

“Says the one not blowing hot air back into their own face as they work out.” He grumbles, flopping back and dropping the mask onto his stomach. “Everything hurts. You’d think I’ve been out for months, not just a few weeks.”

“How’s the headache?” Robin predicts, and Steve gives her another look before he sighs.

“It’s not bad, don’t overreact. It’s not the concussion.” He insists, ignores the way her eyebrow rises again and instead pushes himself up again. “I’m going to shower,” Steve announces, making a quick escape from Robin.

It’s not exactly that he’s lying, because he’s not. He doesn’t think anything he’s feeling is concussion-related. The soreness in his muscles is from suddenly being weighed down with his hockey gear again, after weeks without. It’s a similar feeling to the first workout of the pre-season. The headache is a little trickier to convince everyone around, so he’d avoided mentioning it and done his best to hide it at the rink. It’s no surprise Robin can just tell he has one, though.

He lets steam fill the bathroom before he steps under water so hot his skin turns pink. He lets the shower spray target the middle of his back, shifts so it settles between his shoulder blades, and rests his forehead against the cool tiles in front of him.

Eventually, he emerges back into the apartment in sweatpants, his hair air drying. Robin is setting a cup of hot tea down on the coffee table, her own tucked onto an end table beside her on the sofa. Steve smiles softly and mumbles his appreciation as he sits and takes a sip.

As he drains the cup, the headache eases a bit and he feels a bit more human than he had after returning home from his workout.

“You got mail from your parents today,” Robin eventually offers over the New Girl re-run neither of them are particularly paying attention to but have on for familiar background noise. Steve just grunts, uninterested, and instead busies himself checking any messages he may have missed from people he actually cares to give the time of day.

Dustin had demanded a “family dinner,” which Steve agrees to and warns Robin when to expect a full house. Max, traveling with the Blackhawks for a game tomorrow night, had sent him a detailed threat to not push himself too hard while working out. He responds with a video clip the trainer had taken of Steve nailing a series of wrist shots.

Steve tries hard not to be too disappointed that he hadn’t heard from Eddie. They’d texted about their plans for the day, Steve knew Eddie had said he’d be spending the day in his studio working on a few new tracks he was putting together. Still, though, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping he’d have found a text or two from the other in the time he hadn’t been looking at his phone, something that was quickly becoming a standard for the pair.

Biting back his pride, he decides to send the first text, figuring the other will answer whenever they’re wrapping up in the studio.

Steve: Hope you’re having a good studio session.

After a long few moments, Steve can’t help the little sigh he lets out as he buries himself into the throw pillows filling out the sofa beside him. Robin nudges him with a foot, eyebrow raised, and he shrugs back at her, turning his attention to the television. It isn’t long before he zones out, though, thinking and overthinking.

His injury has given him a lot of time to think about a lot of things; primarily what landed him off the ice. He’s only mentioned it to Robin, but he has been considering coming out to his coaching staff and league officials to give background on what seems like an otherwise unprovoked violent streak from Billy Hargrove. Steve learned, in the days he spent in LA after the attack on the ice, Billy had taken to calling him names and slurs with press and on social media. The trash talking had landed him another fine from the league, but it wasn’t slowing him down. It was more than enough to prove the attack was premeditated, if everyone who needed to know the background was read in on their history.

And while Billy was staying on the attack, his teammates were apparently squared up and ready to defend Steve in a way he probably should have expected but hadn’t seen coming. Each of the players who had gotten physically involved in fighting Billy after Steve had taken a stick to the face had made comments with press about how Hargrove plays dirty and mean. Several had also spoken out about Steve’s leadership and sportsmanship on and off the ice, throwing their support behind him through his recovery.

Coming out to the league and his coaches also had the potential to alleviate some of the anxiety he was feeling around his personal life. There had always been concern about coming out, getting kicked off the ice and ending up without the one thing he knew best. Long before he’d joined the league, his father had impressed upon him that he would have to settle and make sacrifices if he wanted to stay with the sport, but Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep his sexuality bottled up and hidden away from the public.

In large part, it was easy to place blame on Eddie. The rockstar blew into his life and changed his perspective on what it was like to be a public figure, out and proud. Steve knew their status didn’t translate equally. Sports fans were different from fans of a band; Steve had joined a team with supporters who would cheer him on so long as he wore their colors and made them proud. Eddie’s fans had sought him out, decided to listen to his music and support him on their own. But for Steve to see Eddie carrying on with his life, not having to hide any part of himself or worry about not posting certain photos from their days in LA on social media (because what if they looked too suspicious and got people talking and asking questions?) was what Steve longed for.

Chicago was a pretty open-minded town; it’s why he and Robin had first moved to the city to begin with. But it still wasn’t a guarantee that everyone would continue to support the team if he did publicly come out. And Steve was working to reconcile that in his mind; to gauge how much he should even care about it. A part of him knew the greater majority wouldn’t give a shit as long as he still scored goals and played a clean, fair and exciting game whenever he hit the ice. But the thought of those few who might push back too hard and how it could impact his teammates - his friends - in the long term is still what ate away at him.

“I can hear how loud you’re thinking over there.” Robin eventually says while he’s deep in thought, and he shoots her a small smile in response. “Look, Steve, you have to do what you think is best for you. Who gives a shit about anyone else.” She says.

He wishes it was that easy. He knows it could be, but he cares too much about the fallout to stop overthinking. They fall back into silence again, until Robin eventually closes her laptop and leans close to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s hair.

“You’re the best at what you do and if people can’t see that around the fact that you like guys, then that’s their loss.” She says, gently, before excusing herself off to bed.

Steve lounges around in the living room for a while longer, before he turns off the tv, grabs a blanket and makes his way out onto the terrace. He wraps the sherpa around his shoulders and drops into one of the loungers out there, looking out toward the skyline. It’s cold, but not as cold as it’s been, and he’s always found comfort in the winter weather, anyway.

His phone buzzes, catching his attention, and he smiles softly at Eddie’s name. When he answers FaceTime, he’s immediately met by chaos. It sounds like three voices are talking over each other, Eddie’s closest to the phone, making a loud ‘shhh’ sound until everyone around him is silenced.

“Did you mean to call me?” Steve asks around a smile, and watches as Eddie’s face lights up as he draws his attention.

“I did!” He insists, though Steve isn’t entirely convinced. “Want to hear what the track I’m mixing right now?”

Steve raised his eyebrow, only half sure he knows what Eddie’s talking about, before he nods. “Let’s hear it.” He agrees.

“Told you,” Eddie hisses at someone just out of the camera’s frame; probably one of the Corroded Coffin boys. Eddie taps a few buttons below the phone, then a soft guitar tune starts playing. It’s not like anything Steve has ever heard from the band before, gentler and softer. Other instruments crash in, in a more typical Corroded Coffin sound, for what Steve assumes will be a chorus once there’s a vocal track, but it slows back to just a guitar for the next verse. Eddie pauses the song and lifts the phone up again. “Thoughts and opinions are encouraged.”

“It’s different.” Steve says, still a little in awe.

“But not in a bad way!” He hears Gareth’s voice from somewhere in Eddie’s studio, and Steve nods in agreement.

“I don’t think it’s in a bad way, either. Just different. It still sounds like you guys in that middle part, when all the instruments join in. But the guitar, that’s… it’s soft and sweet and gentle. It works nicely, not that I know anything about music,” Steve laughs, and Eddie gives him a little smile.

“I appreciate your opinion,” he says, seeming to inspect the screen. “Your face looks a little less colorful. How was practice?”

“Fine, I’m sore now, though.” Steve admits, shifts and cracks his back.

“Gross!” Jeff cries from somewhere around Eddie, and Steve can’t help but laugh again.

“You should get back to working, I’m gonna head to bed soon anyway. We can talk tomorrow?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods.

“Night, Stevie.”

~~~~

He hangs up the FaceTime, steals a pizza roll off Jeff’s plate, and re-opens the notes app on his phone. Scanning over the rambling notes he’d made himself about how he imagined the song would work out, he starts a new paragraph.

And he stares at the blank line before him.

“You’ve composed, like, 4 tracks and you can’t come up with a single lyric for any of them?” Freak asks, takes a pull from a joint burning in an ashtray near the sofa, and blows the smoke out away from the group.

“Very helpful insight,” Eddie grumbles, and Jeff leans forward.

“Do you want us to help? Like, do you have a theme for the songs, or is this just going to be your own little pet project?” He asks.

“Well, I guess it depends. If you want to drop a surprise EP or double album after the one we’re putting out, I’m probably going to need help. But if you’re cool with letting me sit on it, I can probably figure it out on my own.” Eddie offers.

Gareth twirls a drumstick between his fingers. “I think we let Eddie handle the love songs about Steve Harrington, and if he comes up with enough to make into something to drop, we drop them whenever he’s ready, and if not, we throw them onto the next album or whatever when he’s ready to release them.”

Eddie sighs and drops his head back against the rest of his swivel chair. “Can we stop calling them love songs about Steve?”

“Guess you have extra incentive to write lyrics to them, then,” Freak teases, and Eddie groans back, making the other boys laugh.

It isn’t much longer before they all excuse themselves to the rooms they claimed around the house. Eddie spends a few extra hours in the studio, working on as many lyrics as his brain allows and even sorts out bridge for the song he’d played for Steve before he heads off to bed.

He isn’t surprised to wake up the next morning to a text from Steve, who routinely gets up hours before Eddie and is always the first to send a text wishing him a good day ahead.

Eddie: Go easy on yourself on the ice today, you were up too late listening to headbanger music.

It’s a while before he gets a response, which isn’t uncommon. They both have their own lives which responsibilities to get up to. But Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting not-so-patiently for Steve’s next response. Freak flew out this afternoon, heading back to visit family in Ohio, leaving Gareth and Jeff at Eddie’s. They’re playing video games in the living room when Eddie’s phone rings with Steve’s name and ID photo.

“Hey, how was today?” Eddie asks immediately, launching himself off the sofa and away from the boys and the noise from the television.

“Well, that’s part of why I’m calling,” Steve says, sounding a little out of breath and hair damp with sweat, glancing off camera before he flashes a charming smile down at Eddie. “What are you doing Tuesday?”

His brain short-wires for a second, thrown off course by the response. Is this Steve, asking him out on a date? That can’t be it, right? There’s no way, not with the back-and-forth they have going on. There would be more to it than that, and Steve seems like the kind of guy to give more than 4 days notice for a date that requires at least one party to travel several states. So Eddie does his best to quickly calm and compose himself, hoping he hasn’t taken an alarmingly long time to answer, before he responds. “I don’t know, what am I doing Tuesday?”

“I think you’re coming to watch the Blackhawks play the Predators in Nashville. I’m allowed to travel and suit up, but I probably won’t play just yet.” Steve is grinning, and Eddie can’t help but smile back.

“Hell yeah, I’ll be there!” He agrees, already pulling up the link to buy tickets for the game. “If I get shamed for wearing my Harrington jersey to a Preds game, you get to take the blame for me rooting against my home away from home.” Eddie teases, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh.

“Bring it on,” he challenges, finally seems to Eddie like he’s caught up and gotten back the quick wit and sharp humor which had been on a slight delay since the injury. A sign of recovery, Eddie’s sure and it helps to see him returning to normal.

They catch one another up on their days, and Eddie lets Steve listen to a few more of the tracks they’ve been working on over the last few days, but stops before the lyrics start in the only one he and Jeff have crafted words to so far, not ready for Steve to hear it yet.

As they’re talking, Eddie gets a notification he almost swipes away without reading, but Steve’s name catches his attention, so he drags it down and reads over the words.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie realizes the face he must be making is ridiculous.

“Oh, uh. I just got a notification about you?” he mumbles back, and texts the link to Steve.

Now it’s Steve’s turn to look confused as Eddie reads over the headline again.

Hockey Legacy Harringtons to Host Joint Fundraiser

Steve reads the words and seems to immediately understand them in a way Eddie can’t, and he closes his eyes in a heavy sigh. “I promise you, my life is not usually this dramatic.”

Eddie hates how miserable Steve seems all of a sudden; regrets passing the link on but knows he would have found out eventually and gotten upset anyway. “Dude, really, I don’t even know what that means, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. This is my parents, deciding that I’m worthy of being their son again because I’m getting a bunch of positive press after the injury. So my name gets to be included in the gala invitation, which I have been excluded from since juniors, by the way.” It’s still piecemeal, the information Eddie is able to take away from Steve’s explanation, but it’s enough to get the general gist of the issue.

“Ah. So, the dad who convinced you to self-sabotage is now trying to take credit for your sportsmanship?”

“Something like that,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie can see how he’s holding the phone differently, typing out a text. “I think I have to get Robin and we need to figure this out, sorry to jump off like this. But, I’ll see you at the Preds game? We can grab dinner after?”

“It’s a date.”

Eddie physically can’t stop the words before they’re out of his mouth, and immediately waits for a hole in the ground to open up and suck him in and put him out of his misery. But Steve just raises an eyebrow, smiles and shrugs. “Not yet, but. Sure.”

Then, Eddie stares at himself in the reflection of his phone after Steve ends the FaceTime call and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do with Steve Harrington, who keeps finding new ways to catch him off guard.

#glitter & crimson #starkidmunson writes #it's a little longer as an apology for how long it's been #steddie #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #simultaneously the slowest of burns and the most obvious flirting #anti-steve's parents

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bcyhoods · 1 year

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LOVEFOOL 💌 — “you feel like home to me” with tasm!peter PUH-LEASE I ALREADY KNOW IM GONNA GET EMOTIONAL

muah ha ha. angsty spidey is my favorite spidey, how did you know | 0.9k

warnings: injuries, brief mention of reader being used as leverage but no explicit/graphic detail

“I don’t know if I can do this, Peter.”

Your hand hovers over the scrape on his cheek when your gaze drops to the mask that’s clenched in his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed, looking up at you as you stand in between his legs.

He’s bathed in the dull, orange glow of your lamp. It highlights every welt, every cut, every matted strand of hair that sticks to the damp skin of his forehead. It makes your eyes sting.

“What do you mean? You’re a natural,” he says. His hand settles on your hip to give it a gentle squeeze. The gesture makes you believe for a second that he’s genuinely clueless.

But his eyes refuse to meet yours. The smile that he wears is uneasy as he wrings his mask.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

He hangs his head low. Guilt tightens its grip on his throat making it hard to breathe.

You were already well aware of his secret identity before you’d started dating. He warned you of the risks and used them to try scaring you away before you could break his heart. But you stayed. You stayed and, god, he was so glad you did.

Though, he blames his adoration for what happened to you.

He would keep a close eye on you to make sure you were safe. His routine neighborhood watch would consist of making sure you got to and from work safely, occasionally dropping by on your lunch breaks to check on you. He was careless, but he didn’t anticipate things would go south so quickly.

The guy wasn’t a super villain, nor was he anything special by any means, but he was observant. And why would Spiderman be visiting some random bodega cashier so often unless you meant something to him?

It was practically over as quick as it started. The guy couldn’t even finish demanding his ransom before Peter had arrived to web him to the ceiling. You escaped with a few injuries, the worst being a palm-shaped bruise on your wrist. But Peter was fuming.

You were used as bait. You were leverage against Spiderman because he’d been so reckless. You got hurt because of him. You were lucky this time, but there was no telling if that luck would run out and the thought terrified him. Despite your gentle words of reassurance, he had made up his mind.

He would never forgive himself if he lost you. So he broke it off.

“I know.”

It would’ve been easier if you didn’t see each other after that. You think you’d feel differently if you weren’t frequently in his presence, nursing him back to health. Maybe if you didn’t exchange longing gazes and soft touches that were reserved for people that are more than friends. If he didn’t look at you like you held his heart in your hands, maybe you’d be stronger.

“Why do you keep coming back here?” He feels his chest tighten at the crack in your voice, even more so when you push his hand away.

“You leave your window open,” he whispers.

A scoff falls from your lips and you turn your back to him to wipe away the rogue tears that run down your face. He stares at your figure with a frown and hands that ache to reach out for you.

Peter Parker then decides he doesn’t want to be a hero. Heroes can’t afford to be selfish and put their own happiness above the wellbeing of others. Being with you would jeopardize your safety. It’d be selfish of him. He could never be with you like he wanted, craved, so long as he wore that suit. Can’t he have both?

He’s exhibited enough altruism to last him a lifetime, anyway. Certainly it was enough to hold you just for one night.

“I just needed to see you,” he sighs, voice meek.

“Peter, I think you should—”

“There’s never a day that I don’t think about you,” he interjects. He doesn’t exactly know when he started to cry. Suddenly his eyesight was blurry and he couldn’t breathe through his nose.

“Please.” The word pushes out like a sob. Your hand shoots to clamp over your mouth to hush the whimpers, but he can hear them.

“I’m serious, I…” He stands and moves to put his hands on your shoulders. His mask is forgotten on the floor. “Being away from you, it makes me feel crazy. Like I can’t breathe.”

“Don’t say that.” You turn in his hold to shrug his hands off, but you don’t try too hard. A sob racks through your chest once more when you see his pained expression. His nose is red and his cheeks are wet and his brows are sewed together. “Don’t tell me that, just go home,” you plead.

“You feel like home to me!” There’s a humorless laugh that accompanies the confession, it’s one of frustration. But the softness in his glassy eyes is unmistakable and it makes you melt under his stare.

“Please don’t cry,” he begs with a deep frown. He reaches to hold your face in his hands as he wipes the tears from under your eyes. The material of his gloves is rough and pulls at your skin uncomfortably, but you can’t help leaning into his touch.

He crowds your being. He towers over you so closely that you can feel his bated breath fanning your skin. You reach to hold onto his forearms, letting your eyes close to revel in the closeness. Peter presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, then to each of your cheeks, then your nose. He stops short of your lips.

“Say the word and I’ll leave. You know I will.”

“Don’t go,” you concede.

You’re not really sure what repercussions this will have tomorrow morning. You can’t really bring yourself to care when he kisses you.

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marlynnofmany · 17 days

Text

Loud Darkness

“Before you go,” said Captain Sunlight, stopping us at the open door. “The client sent a last-minute warning.”

“Oh boy.” I gripped the small delivery package a little tighter, braced for bad news.

Zhee was less tactful. “Those are never good,” he said, waving a pincher arm about. The package he was carrying was strapped to his bug-alien back, so his pinchers were free to gesture with. “Is this a hazard that they should have mentioned up front? Something we might have charged extra for?”

“Possibly. Hopefully not.” Captain Sunlight didn’t have eyebrows exactly, but her scaly browridges were frowning anyway. “If anything seems hazardous and you feel like you should return to the ship, please do. The client hasn’t answered any of my messages for further details. All we know is that this continent has something called ‘screamers,’ which come out at sunset, and are dangerously loud. The warning was not to get close to them if you can help it.”

“Screamers,” I repeated. “And they didn’t think to explain that a little?”

Zhee waved his pinchers some more, hissing in irritation. I stepped aside so I didn’t get whacked in the head. Captain Sunlight didn’t bother, since she was too short to be in range.

“No, they didn’t explain it,” Captain Sunlight said. “And there isn’t a settlement nearby to ask, other than this little camp site or whatever it is. I didn’t ask why the client is out here, but I got the impression they’re on some science mission. I could be wrong. They could be just enjoying nature, or on the run from their own planet’s law enforcement. Who knows.” She sighed, looking out the door at the alien forest. “It’s not our business, until it is. Try not to get hurt while delivering the shipment.”

“Should we bring anything for protection?” I asked, pulling the flashlight from my pocket. “This isn’t going to do much good if the things bite when they feel threatened. Or is it just an eardrum risk?”

While Zhee muttered “eardrum” like someone with alien ears who was encountering the term for the first time, Captain Sunlight shook her head. “The warning just said not to get close, because they’re loud. It didn’t sound like a physical danger. And it’s only around sunset. Unfortunately.”

“Sunset!” Zhee exclaimed. “Of course! The exact time the client wanted to meet us! They really could have mentioned this screaming before now.”

I peered out the door to see how dense the trees were. As promised, there was a path made of flat rocks, but the plantlife loomed over it. Shadows were already dark among them. “And they really couldn’t meet us out here?”

“They paid extra for the delivery away from the landing pad, at least,” Captain Sunlight said. “They were specific about the location as well as the time. You’d better be going.”

Zhee stepped onto the ramp. “What a delightful trip this will be. If anything screams at me, it had better be prepared to face my blades.” He brandished his pinchers as he stalked down onto the landing pad.

“Thanks for the warning,” I said to the captain, then followed.

“Be careful. Kavlae will be waiting at the comms in case you need to call for any reason.”

“Got it.” I waved goodbye and caught up with Zhee while the ramp retracted behind us. With our boxes ready and our wits about us, we followed the path into the darkening woods.

I’d thought I wouldn’t need my flashlight until the walk back, but it was worryingly dark under those trees. I lit up the ground and shifted the box to one arm, glad that I had the smaller case. Zhee had a different model of light strapped to his hip. He poked it with a pincher-tip, and it lit the way nicely, with no further pincher action required. He waved them threateningly instead.

I passed my own light over the bushes, searching for threats, while the ground remained bright enough not to trip. Of the two of us, I was the only one who needed to worry about that. I made sure to keep an eye out for troublesome rocks that could lead to injury, embarrassment, and damage to the package. (Mostly embarrassment. Zhee had strong opinions about the evolutionary wisdom of multiple legs.)

Despite all the lovely things we had to think about, the walk was pretty boring. Shadowy alien trees, too dark to see many interesting details. Rocks on the ground. An impressively straight pathway. No animals moving around that we could detect.

But something had started making noise. A faint one at first, far ahead of us, a kind of vague static that was hard to pin down. I looked at Zhee to see if he’d heard it. His expression was hard to read.

It got louder as we walked, and I could almost make out distinct sounds among the overall wash of noise. Chattering? Short screeches? I didn’t like it. And it didn’t help that things were very dark now, with only the occasional glimpse of colorful sunset through the trees.

“What do you think it is?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Zhee said in annoyance. “But it is offensive.”

Not the word I’d been expecting. “Like it offends your sense of hearing, or offends you on a personal level?”

Zhee snapped his pinchers. “It sounds like skreeking. Very badly done, by misbehaving children.”

“Sk—? Oh, that leg-music you guys do. Right.” I hadn’t heard Zhee himself perform any traditional Mesmer tunes, but the whole ship had heard Trrili’s efforts. They were, well … Yeah okay, they were horrible. At least as far as my human ears were concerned. And now that I thought about it, I could kind of pick out individual threads of sound that seemed insectlike.

While I was thinking all that, Zhee complained heartily. “It is clearly not actual children, misbehaving or otherwise, but it has the poor taste to sound like it is, when it could sound like anything else. Like it’s trying to be as aggravating as possible.”

“Reminds me of a parrot I used to know,” I said, shining the flashlight around for any sign of the noisemakers. “He could have sounded like anything too, but his favorite noise to make was the sound of someone chewing with their mouth open.”

“Yes yes, I’ve heard of those creatures from your world,” Zhee said. “Freakish specimens.”

“It’s not just the one type of bird that can do that,” I told him. “There are a bunch of mimics. Mockingbirds, lyrebirds, starlings, even ravens — and that’s just the birds!”

“Yes yes. Fascinating.” He didn’t sound like he cared, but it was a distraction from the increasing volume of the whatever-they-were, so I continued.

“There are other animals that can make a couple humanlike sounds too. Like goats; the little ones are called kids because they sound like our own little ones sometimes. And a few of the adults can scream like a human, which is both startling and funny.”

“I’m sure.”

“Oh, and mountain lions too. They’ve been known to sound like adult humans, baby humans, and little chirping birds. Rumor says they’ve used that as a way to lure in prey more than a few times over the eons.”

Zhee tilted his head toward me at that sharp praying-mantis angle. “Impressive,” was all he said.

“That’s one word for it.”

“But this is not impressive. This I hate. We’d better be there soon.”

“I think it’s getting brighter up there.” I aimed my light to the side, squinting as if that would do any good. It did seem less shadowy, but more like the trees opened up, not like anyone had technology running.

Zhee walked faster. I walked faster. The mysterious screamers screamed louder. It was an oppressive drone now, vibrating the air on all sides like I was near the speakers at a concert. A really bad concert. Where the singers were bugs.

“It sounds kind of like cicadas!” I said, raising my voice enough to be heard. “They only come out every seventeen years where I’m from. It’s quite an experience. Once a generation, the summer is full of bugs that scream, mate, and die all over the place.”

Zhee gave me another sharp look. “And how does human culture regard this skreeking-like orchestra? I imagine early societies worshipped or feared them.”

I shrugged, adjusting my grip on the box. “Probably? Sorry to say most people consider them an annoyance now. Kind of interesting scientifically, but obnoxious to clean off your car. Oh, and they’re edible. But not if you’re allergic to seafood.”

The expression on his face now was a complicated dance of antennae and mandibles, which I chose to interpret as vaguely horrified.

But before he could come up with an answer, a voice called out from the clearing ahead.

“Hello hello! Are you the delivery people?”

I aimed my flashlight, hoping to light up feet instead of a face. Never good to blind the client. “Yes, we have your packages!” I could just make out a two-legged shape, and judging by the shape of the head, I was pretty sure she was a Frillian with large head fins.

“Great! Set them right over here! I’ve got my ID somewhere.” She dashed off into the droning darkness, making sounds of rummaging around that I could barely hear.

When we reached the clearing, we found a very thin Frillian wearing clothes with pockets everywhere, head fins just as large as they’d seemed, and the exuberant attitude of a scientist who’s getting to study something they’ve waited for.

“Thanks! Right there, yes. I suppose I could stand to turn on a light or two, but that might scare them away. Sign here? Got it. There you go. Thanks so much! I can’t wait to see how these work.”

Zhee and I stepped politely back while the client tore open the smallest box, where it was set on a table covered in miscellaneous equipment. She pulled out something that looked kind of like a medical scanner. It lit up with red light and some beeps that might have been piercing under other circumstances.

“Oh, it even comes charged! Excellent! Now show me what you’ve got…” She ran over to a bush and passed the scanner slowly through the air, for all the world like she was diagnosing the plant with something terminal.

The scanner probably beeped, but I couldn’t hear it from here. She ran back in excitement and opened the other box.

Those I did recognize: a surprising number of gravity wands, of a high-precision model. I had a theory what she was going to use them for.

Zhee did too. “Will you be catching the screamers, then?” he asked. “Studying how they make their obnoxious sound? Perhaps ready to teach them to make a better one?”

“Oh no,” she laughed. “Screamers are delicious. I have so many people waiting to buy them back home, but only as long as I get the ones that have already finished with egg-laying! Sustainable, you know?” She brandished the scanner. “This way I can be sure, and catch them while they’re fresh!”

I gave my most tactful customer service nod, not looking at Zhee. “You’ve got it all thought out.”

“Yep! I don’t really need this many wands, but they were the best deal in bulk, and this way I don’t have to worry about keeping just one charged. Let’s see how they perform.” She dashed back over to the same bush, and after a moment with the scanner in one hand and the gravity wand in another, she made a happy little hop then ran over to show us.

Wriggling in the gravity field was something tiny with compound eyes and kicking legs. I didn’t look at Zhee, just nodded politely and congratulated her on her catch.

She thanked us again and hurried over to the table where something that looked like a portable stasis box waited. The sunset was fading into pure dark, but the droning calls of the screamers were as loud as ever. She flicked on a red light and muttered happily about lanterns that didn’t make people’s eyes adjust. Then she waved at us and went back to work.

We walked back down the path. When we were a little ways away, I looked at Zhee. Yup, antennae angled into a frown.

“So,” I said. “A lot like cicadas, then.”

“If you decide you want to eat the screamers, I don’t want to know about it.”

“Nah, they creep me out too. But don’t tell my old college friend I said that; she was always trying to get me to be a more adventurous eater with exotic foods. I don’t know where she got half of that stuff.”

“And I don’t want to know what kind of foods an omnivore would find exotic.”

I smiled through the loud darkness. “You sure? Most of ‘em are meat; they probably wouldn’t be that strange to you.”

“Such as?”

“Well, there was the fermented shark—”

“Nope,” he declared. “No rotten sea creatures, thanks. Today is vile enough already.”

“Yeah, that one was pretty extreme,” I admitted. “Just opening a can of the stuff could clear a room in three seconds flat.”

Zhee pointed a pincher at me. “If you ever bring any of that onto the ship, you will spend the entire voyage living in the airlock.”

I smiled. “Noted!”

“No disgusting things on the ship,” Zhee grumbled.

I shined my light on the bushes as we walked. “I wonder if these are safe for cats. Telly would have a great time chasing one.”

“No.”

“You’re right; we wouldn’t want it getting stuck in the engine or something.”

“Also that. Just a general ‘no’ for you.”

“Party pooper.”

And then we discussed human idioms, and the anecdote my parents had told me about a diaper incident when I was an infant, and it kept us distracted from the sound of the screamers all the way to the ship.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#The Token Human #the Patreon is live! go check it out!#that free tier is pretty cool #and the paying ones are even better #got so much cool stuff to share #my writing #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs

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copperbadge · 1 year

Text

I am now home, fed, rested, and festooned in cats.

I had a lot of opinions about the case I was jury on, but I don’t know how much of it I’ll write up; I kept a kind of disjointed journal, but it’s not super coherent. Turns out if I don’t document my thoughts in real time I get bored of my own mind very quickly.

We were jury for a complicated medical civil case; we heard testimony from six doctors and two nurses and saw so much imaging. I’m sure the plaintiff suing the medical center had bigger concerns, and it’s not like you get detail with the internal imaging we had to examine, but it must have been rough on him that in the course of learning about his injuries, which were on his lower body, we also had to look at multiple images of his dick. It certainly startled me when I realized what we were seeing for the first time.

Most of the trial I was kind of okay with just keeping things to myself, writing and thinking about it privately, but I was dying inside that I couldn’t talk to you guys until now about the asshole juror I mentioned earlier. I had intended to use writing about him as a safety valve -- a sort of “Hey I can’t talk about the trial but wait till you hear what That Guy did today” -- but uh.

So I didn’t actually bully anyone off a jury, but for the rest of my life I am definitely going to claim I did.

The second day of trial, the bailiff grabbed me before trial and said the judge wanted to talk to me; I thought I was in trouble but it turns out that he wanted to know about my interactions with the other juror. Apparently the bailiff had seen me step in when he was pestering a fellow (female) juror the previous day. Later he got super aggressive with the bailiff herself, and I guess she saw me watching and gauging whether to step in then, too. (I didn’t end up getting involved because she handled him just fine and also she has a gun.)

The judge questioned me about what I’d seen and done and why I’d done it, and then informed me he was removing the juror from the case based on what I’d told him about the man’s behavior. I’m given to understand there may be a charge of contempt of court and a fine, but I’m not clear on the details and it appears I won’t have to get involved further.

But yeah, that’s why you didn’t hear any more about him. Realistically he was removed for harassment, but I like to think a small part of it is that I fucked with him so visibly and thoroughly that they knew “this jury box isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

Anyway, I’m glad it’s over. I would have liked to have spoken to the plaintiff and his wife after the verdict and expressed my sympathy for what they’d gone through, but I think perhaps understandably they didn’t want to linger. Besides, we found in his favor; he seemed pleased with the outcome and his wife was happy-crying as we left, so I expect the message was understood.

My job is not exactly mindless, but it also doesn’t usually involve paying hardcore attention to complex medical testimony for six hours a day. I am exhausted. Fortunately this weekend is relatively laid back -- my only commitment is to a Pride beach party tomorrow, and I’ve used some of my jury pay to purchase one of those pop-up shade tents, so the plan is to sit in the shade with snacks and beverages and be the Beach Dad.

#archive

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graveyardlifeguard · 18 days

Text

Survivors Part 2

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14 of 9-1-1.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Notes: This one's going to be a touch long so I don't have to break it so awkwardly, but the next part will be out really soon!

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

Later that night at home, Chris and I stood by the door and watched as Eddie fiddled with the couch pillows. Carla was coming back tonight, and Eddie was only slightly excited about her return. He had been fussing over intricate details since we had gotten home from work.

“What do you think? That looks better right?” Eddie asks, still fussing over the same two pillows he has been playing with for the last 5 minutes.

“I think it looks exactly the same.” Chris laughs as we watch Eddie continue to fluff the pillows.

“I just want everything to be perfect. It’s been over a year” Eddie finally turns around to look at Christopher and me.

“It’s going to be awesome!” Chris says. He had missed Carla more than anything in the world. With Eddie obviously in the number 1 spot, there was no doubt in my mind that Carla was number 2 on his list of favorite people. She had always been a steady female presence in his life that I knew that he needed. Whether he knew it or not. My thoughts are quickly interrupted by the knocking at the door that Chris excitedly moves towards. Opening the door, Chris all but screams Carla’s name before she laughs and wraps him up in a giant hug. The smiles on Christopher and Eddie’s faces are bright enough to light all of California with. Letting Christopher have the first hug, Eddie and I move slowly towards Carla before joining in the hug. If Carla didn’t feel missed based off of the giant hug, I don’t know how else we could have shown her.

Sitting around the table just like old times, eating and laughing together brought back a lot of great memories. Christopher had just gotten done telling Carla one of his crazy stories from school. “I’m sure your teacher was thrilled.” Carla laughs in return at his story. Noticing that the plates are empty, Eddie leans forward to grab them up as I quickly jump up to grab them for him.

“No, no, no let me grab those” I say, hurriedly moving to gather up the plates.

Carla tries to offer her help with Chris jumping in to stop her, “You can’t go in the kitchen!” Chris exclaims.

Carla gives him a funny look while I try to cover out tracks, it’s a secret that Christopher is very adamant on.

“That’s right,” I start as Eddie smiles and nods is head in agreeance, “we have some business to take care of." Carla chuckles as Christopher and I head off towards the kitchen.

We dump the dirty plates into the sink before I grab both of the cakes we made out of the oven, where we left them to sit until the right moment.

“Can we yell surprise when we come out of the kitchen?” Chris asked.

I laughed and before responding, “Well of course, how else would we surprise her.”

Christoper had begged us to make Carla two cakes, one for each birthday we had missed with her while she was away. He had chosen the colors of the cake, pink and blue. He had explained to Eddie and me that we needed both colors to split between the two boys and two girls. Opening the kitchen door and stepping out, we both yelled surprise, catching Carla off guard. Christopher walked up to Carla and wished her a Happy Birthday; we all knew her birthday is in March, but it felt right to celebrate the ones we missed together. Plus, who didn’t love extra cake.

“Light the candles dad.” Chris says to Eddie with Eddie magically pulling out candles from thin air. Carla looks over the two cakes, quickly counting the number of candles that were scattered across both tops.

“Okay that is a disturbing number of candles.” She laughs as Chrisopher moves to stand next to me.

“Thank goodness there’s a firefighter and paramedic in the house.” I smile up at Christopher, loving the way he had absolutely lit up with Carla back around. I know he had missed her and had certainly taken it hard when she had to leave to be with her dad. He was sad but also understood that she needed to be with her dad just like he needed to be with his. Looking back towards the table, I couldn’t help but notice the way that Eddie was already smiling at me. He looked at me the way that every girl wanted to be looked at. The smile that he gave me made it hard for me to not smile back. He and Christoher were my entire world and there was nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep them with me.

————

The next shift was exactly like the last one, busy and filled with paperwork. I was at the station for maybe thirty minutes in total, all day. And somehow not once did I run calls with the 118. Which meant that I did not get to see or talk to any of them, excluding Hen who had called to get advice about a call they were on, until it was time to pack up and go home for the day. Luckily, my relief had shown up early, meaning that I was able to shower and change before I normally was able to. Walking out of the dorms, I find Eddie standing at the bay door, a contemplative look on his face.

I make my over to him before asking, “What’s got you thinking so hard my love?” He looks up, startled, as if I had completely snuck up on him. He gives me one of his dazzling smiles before shaking his head.

“Just a call we went on today, something seems off but I’m not sure what it is.” he replies.

That’s understandable. I feel like most of the calls we run nowadays are just off. I had honestly chalked most of it up to being my paranoia from the crazy Covid calls we received.

“Do you want to talk about it on the way home? Maybe I can help you work it out.” I ask him.

He smiles and shakes his had before saying, “We’ve both had a hell of a day, work is going to stay at work. It’s my time to have you all to myself.”

He bumps his shoulder into mine before grabbing my hand and leading us to the car. After the shift we had, it was nice to know that no one needed us. At least for the next 9 hours that was.

At home, I had opted to start the laundry while Eddie moved into the kitchen to start dinner. Carla and Christopher were in the living room reading together when we got home. After receiving a huge hug from Chris, I started into the bedroom to collect our laundry basket. Once laundry was started, and I was in much more comfortable clothes, I made my way into the living room. Only to find it empty with voices being heard in Christophers room. Inside, Christopher, Carla and Eddie seemed to be sorting through old toys of Chris.’

“Wow, someone’s feeling generous.” I comment after finding the trio, moving to sit down on the floor near Chris’ bed.

“I got to talk to a boy that Dad met at work, he’s sick and can’t go out much. I want to give him some of my old toys.” Christopher replies. He hands over an old police car and book that I know he hasn’t played with in a while. Looking up at Eddie, he notices the hint of confusion on my face. I know we hadn’t talked much, but I hadn’t heard of his new friend he seemed to have made today.

“Did you happen to see the structural collapse call were on around lunch time?” He questions. I shake my head ‘no’ as I lean over to help go though toys.

Eddie continues on after seeing my answer, “This boy’s mom semi-fell through her balcony and her son, who’s around Chris’ age, called it in. He has an auto-immune disorder and isn’t able to leave the house much. I ended up staying with her son while she went to the hospital.”

The story quickly catches my attention. My head shoots up and can I tell my face is giving away my thoughts. It so often does as Eddie continuously points out to me.

“Would this call happened to have occurred at The Regal Point Apartments?”

Eddie looks up at me and nods, “Yeah it was, I thought you didn’t see the call? Well anyways the mom was telling me that since she has to stay home and take her of her son, people have been generous enough to donate to them through online donation sites. Chris here had the great idea of donating some of his toys to the son.”

There it is again.

There’s that red flag, waving now at the forefront of my mind. This has to be Shiela and Charlie. I think it over before standing up and telling Chris how proud I am of his generosity. “I’ll be right back.” I state to the group before exiting the room. Eddie gives me a questioning look as I leave.

————

Making my way into the kitchen, I sit down at the kitchen table, open my laptop, and begin doing some research on Sheila and Charlie Leute on a local Fund Me page. Although I began my search locally, I quickly find multiple Fund Me pages scattered across the West coast. The most interesting detail is the fact that each account with their first name ends up coming back with a different last name. The red flag initially waving in my brain is now the size of a football field. I knew it. Jumping up from the kitchen table, I walk back towards where I know the trio still sat. Leaning up against the door frame, I look over to Eddie, knowing that this would hurt his feelings.

“Hey Eddie, can I talk to you for a second?” I ask, starting to walk back towards the kitchen.

Eddie glances up at me before he stands up and starts making his way towards me. He stops short of the doorway and turns back to Carla and Chris.

“Don’t let him give away the whole house while I’m gone!” Eddie continues behind me where we start back towards the kitchen. I can hear Carla laughing at Eddie’s comment, she knows that Christopher is just that generous to do so.

“What’s going on?” Eddie questions.

“I was thinking about what you said, how that family supports themselves through their Fund Me page, so I started looking around.” I sit back down at the laptop while Eddie chooses to lean up against the cabinets. It was hard to stay focused on the task at hand when he did things like that. Something about him leaning against things had an unnecessary affect on me.

“You went snooping?” I can feel the questioning look aimed towards the back at my head. I swivel in my seat so he can see the serious look on my face. Although the hint of a smile on my face certainly doesn’t help my case. I begin fiddling with my ring finger, where my actual engagement ring sits on full display. Being able to see it and feel it helps me relax, my body already knowing how important this situation is.

“The family and story just seemed really familiar to a call I had the other night. At the same address. I was hoping for it be a coincidence but that’s unfortunately not the case. Alicia and I went out there the other night for the son and something just didn’t seem right then. I thought I was just being overdramatic, so I let it go. But I think there is something wrong with this woman. I think she lied to us”

Eddie gives me yet another confused look before pulling out the chair beside me and sitting down. He throws his arm over my shoulder and slides the chair closer to me. I can tell that he understands how strongly I feel about this just by the look he is giving me.

“Well,” He starts “you know I trust your instincts so what do you have?”

#911 imagine #eddie diaz #angst #ryan guzman #eddie diaz x reader #imagines #eddie diaz imagine

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lightlycareless · 7 months

Text

Getting to see Nanami all hurt and whatnot in this jjk season made me think of the following:

Let’s say that you’re married to Naoya—have been for a while, wasn’t exactly a match made in heaven but there were some things to benefit from this union, enough for you to tolerate him for years, and vice versa.

As time goes on, the two begin to warm up to each other of course, perhaps not to the point of being in love but Naoya allows you many things he wouldn’t normally do under other circumstances—such as permitting you to keep friendships even after settling in your new life at the Zen’in estate.

This is why you were able to keep in contact with one of your high school friends, Nanami. Getting to know all about his life endeavors, such as when he retired from the sorcery world, allegedly for good, only to come back later on. Occasionally going out to eat, talking on the phone for hours... just things friends did.

Your husband didn’t think much of this relationship at first, since he liked to brag that no matter what you did, you always returned to him. And that your loyalties were firmly set on him and only him.

Until of course, Shibuya happened.

It’s like you were a completely different person during those events—your attention was solely on the people there, the people you knew and were now putting their life on the line while you stayed behind, safe, at the Zen’in estate.

Your heart, however, wouldn't be in its most distressed state until you heard from a trustworthy source that Nanami, your Nanami, had been gravely injured… but that at least, he survived.

It was almost outstanding the way you dropped everything on the spot to seek him out in the hospital he was kept in, not even bothering to ask for permission or give much detail of your whereabouts, except occasional texts informing Naoya you were in said hospital visiting him, and that you'd be coming home late.

Naoya didn’t buy them of course, believing them to be nothing but a way to cover the truth. And why wouldn’t it be that way? You, his wife, were now spending most, if not all of your time with one of your supposed friends, a man, who coincidentally, used to partake in rumors of a fling happening between the two many, many years ago.

He had to see the truth with his very own eyes. So one day, hoping to put this case to rest, he coerces convinces you into taking him to the hospital, wanting nothing more than pay your dear Nanami a visit, wish him a quick recovery, and find out if there was some truth behind your words: were you truly taking care of him, or was there something else...?

The answer he eventually gets is somewhat pleasing at first, essentially what you told him: you were doing nothing more than keeping him company, tending to his injuries, and just checking that his needs were met.

Yet, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was still something wrong, that there was still something… dubious about your actions. This couldn’t just be friendly gestures, genuine worry for the other, there had to be more to it…

And then, he saw it, the indicator that your actions weren’t just out of pure care, but rather… something deeper.

It's in the way your eyes softened up whenever seeing Nanami, the way your hands would touch him ever so gently, changing his bandages, giving him his medicine, making sure you aren't hurting him, checking how he was feeling... or how you'd quickly swirl your head in his direction whenever calling your name, always smiling when talking to him.

Things that you never done to him, at least, not with this warmth.

For the first time in his life, Naoya finds himself jealous threatened by another man…

And saddened that your attention was not solely his anymore.

Or maybe, it was never his to begin with.

#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #niiiice I've been wanting to do something with the two hahahah

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jimin-jungshook-over-literalbae · 3 months

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BTS Reacts to You Coming Home with Your Arm in a Sling

Hey guys! It’s been a while! This is the first request I’ve gotten since I reopened my request! It’s been nice writing a request again! I hope you guys like it. I just banged it out quickly before I have to get ready for work.

Request: I have a bts reaction request where you have an arm injury that resulted in your arm being swollen and getting a ruptured vein from going through a cat scan at a hospital and you have to have your arm in an arm sling for 2 weeks. Sorry if it’s detailed but it’s because this happened to me and it’s not fun AT ALL!!!

1. Jin

Jin is the type to overly worry. When you come home with a sling, he’s just a little bit panicked. As far as he knew, this was just going to be a routine procedure but now you’re injured and he is meticulously reading through the doctor’s notes on how to care for your injury. If the injury causes you to have any kind of movement issues, he is there to pick up the slack and take care of you however you’re willing to accept it. He takes over making meals whenever he can and making sure that you’re resting. He knows that taking care of yourself and resting is important to heal better and he’s going to make sure you get better, no matter what.

“Come here princess, let me take a look at it. I just want to make sure it’s looking better,” Jin’s touch is soft as he examines your arm, his eyebrows pinched in concentration.

2. Suga

Yoongi is very much the type to quietly take care of you. He keeps the kitchen stocked with your favorite snacks and drinks for when he isn’t home. He cooks you your favorite meals and always helps you without complaining. He’s read through the doctor’s instructions three times to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He knows exactly how you feel having to have your arm in a sling, especially since he had to use one after his shoulder surgery. He’s very perceptive of your needs and often helps to take care of them before you fully realize that it’s come up.

“I made dinner. Why don’t we eat and then we can watch a movie, okay Kitten?” Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead, helping you up off the couch and over the dining table.

3. J-Hope

Hoseok is an overly worried type. When you come home injured and in a sling, his expression would become shocked. He would ask too many questions, not giving you time to answer them until he loses steam. He would sit you on the couch, examining you in an attempt to make sure you’re not injured anywhere else. You would basically have to force him to go to any of his schedules because he would just want to stay home and take care of you.

“But what if you need me?” Hoseok pouts, his best attempt at puppy dog eyes making an appearance,” I’m always supposed to be here when you need me, Sunshine?”

4. RM

Namjoon would let you explain the entire situation before he comments, wanting to make sure he fully understands the situation. With your arm being a sling, he would likely call Yoongi to get notes on what kind of care or assistance you would need. He knows that Yoongi is not the type to accept help easily, but he’s had an arm injury before so he wants to make sure he has all the knowledge he needs. He would make sure to come home earlier than he normally does, wanting to make sure you feel cared for and looked after.

“It doesn’t hurt too bad, does it baby?” Namjoon holds you close, the two of you cuddled up in bed,” I can’t help worrying that you’re in too much pain.”

5. Jimin

Jimin’s eyes would end up filled with tears the moment he sees you, mostly from being shocked by your suddenly injured form appearing before him. When you explain exactly what happened, he would be the one that wants to talk directly to the hospital and demand to understand why this happened. He’s the type would would never be confrontational when it came to him but to square up when someone he cares about is injured. He’s also going out of his way to baby you, probably more than actually required but he can’t help it.

“Angel, you need to stay laying down. I’m going to go get us some snacks and drinks. Don’t you dare move from that spot,” Jimin gives you a pointed look, ignoring your continual reminder that your legs are in no way injured.

6. V

Taehyung is the sweetest bean and all he can think of is trying to make you feel comfortable. He would have you constantly looked after, if not by himself than having Yeontan “take over for him” when he leaves. It’s cute and endearing and would likely be an attempt to make you laugh. He has Yeontan go through rigorous “training” that has absolutely nothing to do with looking after you just to make you laugh. Mostly, he just wants to make sure that you’re not overly worried about it. If you need to have asexual serious talk, he’s absolutely able to do that, but he also wants to make sure that you feel more normal.

“Okay, Yeontan, you have to look after Muffin for me while I go to work,” Taehyung says very seriously, knelt on the ground in front of the small dog. You can’t help rolling your eyes at the nickname Taehyung had taken up calling you as he had decided it was adorable and would not let it go.

7. Jungkook

Jungkook is another one who might tear up seeing you injured. He’s always been incredibly soft and we all know that he cries quite easily so it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge. He is the type to constantly ask you if you need anything, wanting to make sure you feel well looked after. He’s constantly cuddling you and giving you some attention. All the injury is not life-threatening, it would still remind him that there is a possibility of you being injured worse someday and he’s now become temporarily paranoid about it. He won’t let you do anything he deems as ‘dangerous’ though some of them are odd, like being unable to shower alone in case you ‘slip and fall’.

“That’s not fair, Doll,” Jungkook pouts, looking at the dinner you had prepared and set out for the two of you to share,” You should have waited for me to get home and we could have made it together. What if you had gotten hurt and I wasn’t home?”

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please send me any requests you might have!

#bts #bts reactions #bts jin #bts kim seokjin #bts suga #bts min yoongi #bts jhope #bts jung hoseok #bts rm #bts kim namjoon #bts jimin #bts park jimin #bts v #bts kim taehyung #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts fluff

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wriothesleysgf · 4 months

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FOR IF I AM NOT YOURS , WHAT AM I ?

— k. nanami.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ about — november 1st, 2018.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes — huge spoilers, major character death/injury, grieving, angst/ hurt.

you wished you told him not to go. you wished he wasn't so good at quelling your fears. you wished it was you in his place.

everything was in ruins after the shibuya incident. nobody knew exactly who survived, but there wasn't a sorcerer who hadn't lost somebody close to them. you had been split up from nanami, having shared a sweet goodbye. with your rct skills being above average, you were assigned to stay in the backlines alongside shoko.

no matter how much you tried to prepare yourself, you had to push yourself to work endlessly despite being in shock. the horrors were endless, and you couldn't help but let out a sob when the barely-breathing body of one of the students that you care so deeply about got brought in. this was the precise reason that you were against jujutsu students qualifying for grades. they'd be put in such dangerous situations. thoughts about how young nanami had sobbed in your arms after his best friend's untimely death flashed through your mind. you had no choice but to put all of these emotions aside, and do everything you could to ensure that the young girl got another shot at life.

you stayed there way past when the sun rose. shoko tried to convince you to take a break but to no avail. considering how closely the two of you had worked, with her being a third year when you joined jujutsu high, you could usually read her. however, you were too focused to notice that there was something she had to tell you. it took shoko forcing a cup of hot tea into your hands to get you to take a few minutes out and try to calm down.

"have you heard from the others?" you ask immediately, your hands shaking slightly. "what time is it?"

"it's 2pm." shoko replies. she's struggling to make eye contact with you, not wanting to be the one to tell you. "i..."

"nanami." you state. "he said he'd come by as soon as he can... is there still bad traffic around the stations?"

shoko finally looks at you. you already appear broken. your eyes are wide and glossy and you're still shaky. the dark circles under your eyes are becoming more and more prominent. something tells her that you already know deep down.

she says your name in an uncharacteristically soft tone. you drop the mug of tea, letting it spill all over your jeans and the broken porcelain shatter as it hit the hard ground.

"n... no..." you whisper. shoko comes towards you, pulling you into her arms— a wise move, because your knees give out. "how... who... what happened..." you choke out between sobs.

she manages to manoeuvre you towards a small room where you can be alone. there, she explains all of the details that were relayed to her. a knock at the door interrupts her, and shoko stands to see who's there. akari nitta comes in, and sits by your side. a simple nod from the brunette tells her what she needs to know, and she wraps an arm around you.

"he... he saved me, you know? i don't know if it makes you feel any better, but when nobara and i were alone, he looked after us." she begins to ramble, something that nitta always did when she was nervous. "i'm so, so sorry. he's a good man." she doesn't have the heart to speak about him in the past tense.

"do... was he alone? did he go in alone? after seeing you?"

nitta shakes her head. "he went in alone to meet with zen'in's group." you nod.

"he also met up with fushiguro and itadori. itadori was with him when..." shoko adds.

"is yuji okay? he's seen too much already..." you worry. both women couldn't help but feel their hearts ache. despite your own pain, you were concerned about itadori— no wonder nanami had fallen in love with you.

shoko nods. "okkotsu and fushiguro are with him."

everything in the room is quiet as you process it all. you find yourself fidgeting with the ring on your left hand. after a few moments, you could have sworn it shone for a second. you looked up to see the source of the light, but were met with none. somehow such a small occurrence made you feel more at ease. it was almost as if nanami was sending you a reminder that he's here with you, even after death. you recall the feeling of his embrace, the feeling of him wiping your tears with the soft pad of his thumb. your kento always knew how to make the most devastating moments feel lighter... yet those all felt like nothing compared to this new heartbreak.

#♡｡ now tracking: landausgf ☆.ᐟ #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami drabbles #nanami angst #nanami kento angst

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thetarsier · 1 year

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okay. hear me out.... lockwood helping with hairwashing because your side is injured and you can't stretch your arms.... and you just have a little chat to keep it from being awkward but the way he's holding your head is really gentle and you've never quite been touched so lovingly before

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none, injury, but not much detail, nakedness (*shocked face*)

<3: anthony lockwood x reader

“Lucy!” You called through the house from your spot securely hidden behind the bathroom door, “Luce?”

“She’s out,” The voice of the one person you didn’t want to ask for help filled your ears, “So is George. What’s up?”

Lockwood appeared, raising a teasing eyebrow at your position. You glared at him the best you could with your hair dripping steadily down your back and the door being your only protection from him seeing your naked body, but it was hard to feel anything but embarrassed.

“I’ll wait for Lucy to get back, thanks.”

“Let me guess,” He ignored your comment but didn’t come any closer, “You can’t lift your arms to wash your hair - which is exactly what I said would happen.”

“No,” You shook your head, “Okay, fine. Yes. Yes, I can’t reach up to wash my hair, alright? Good enough for you? You were right.”

He watched you for a few moments, dark eyes focused on yours for a time that seemed to stretch on. He wasn’t wearing his usual formal attire, just a shirt and joggers, and it made him seem more boyish - you preferred him that way, he tended to be somewhat nicer when he wasn’t putting on the appearance of Lockwood, when he was just Anthony.

“Lucy said she won’t be back for a while. Do you want me to help?” He offered, and you slid yourself further behind the door at the thought of him getting into the shower with you.

“No.”

“You’re just going to leave all the dirt in your hair? I’m all up for challenging beauty standards, but I’m not sure that’s hygienic. Come on, let me help you,” He seemed more sincere when he followed with, “I want to.”

“I’m naked.” You tried weakly.

“Who stitched up the gash on your side?” Lockwood posed the question, and you sighed, caught.

When you’d been injured by one of the Fittes agents on the latest mission that they’d ambushed, Lockwood had ripped the agent responsible a new one and reduced the boy to tears before taking you back home and taking the wound into his own hands. He cleaned it, wiped up the blood, and bandaged it - all without your top on.

You’d been in too much pain to care about the loss of the garment, but you had to admit that even once he was done, and you were in considerably less pain, you didn’t care that he was seeing you without your shirt on. It seemed… natural, in a way.

“I’ll give you my shirt to put on if you want,” He offered, hands already tugging at the hem of his grey shirt and pulling it over his head, “Here.”

You groaned before closing the door and tugging his shirt over your head. It was a feat with your injured side, but two seconds of pain was worth Anthony not seeing your bare chest. Having him help you wash your hair was enough embarrassment for the month, let alone him seeing you naked. Luckily, his shirt was long enough on you that it fell to just above your mid-thigh, meaning it covered everything else, too.

Closing your eyes and gathering your strength, you opened the door to Anthony, who was waiting patiently on the other side of the door, topless and no longer smirking like an idiot. He seemed bashful, and it was obvious that he was trying not to look at how his shirt was already sticking to your body thanks to the amount of time you’d already spent in the shower.

The shirt wasn’t offering you much more modesty, but it was enough.

Anthony entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him, and you begrudgingly stepped back into the shower, keeping your back to the boy behind you. He reached over you and pulled the shower head from its hold to wet your hair, and then he held it out to you to hold, and you took it, happy to have something to do with your hands.

“Where did George go?” You asked just to fill the silence as Anthony bent down to pick up your shampoo.

“The library,” He answered, his voice quiet and soft, reverberating in the confined space of the shower, “Lucy is out shopping, I think she said. I don’t know, she left quickly.”

His fingers made contact with your scalp, and you jolted, your back knocking into his front unceremoniously. He made a noise deep in his throat at the contact, and you moved forward again, though you could never escape his touch in the tiny space available to you.

“I’ll give you more warning next time,” His comment almost sounds sarcastic. Almost. But as his fingers begin to slowly massage the shampoo into your hair, all thoughts of rebuttal dissipate from your mind.

“Do you think I’ll ever be respected by the Fittes agents again?” You half-joked, “I mean, how many of us are injured by a rapier and down for the count?”

“That Fittes agent won’t have a job tomorrow if I have anything to say about it,” Anthony’s voice had slipped back into the soft tone, though there was an undertone of possessiveness that took the air from your lungs, “Any deeper and you would have needed stitches. Stitches. All because someone couldn’t watch where they were going…” He paused, exhaled deeply, “I should have never let it happen.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You wanted to turn to him, despite the fact that his shirt was doing nothing to cover your naked body now that you were back in the shower. You wanted to look him in the eye so that he knew you were sincere when you reassured him, but he took the shower head from you to start washing the shampoo out of your hair, so you knew that it wasn’t the time.

One of his hands raised to your forehead, gently resting there to protect your eyes from the spray of water and soap as he rinsed your hair out, and your eyes closed in bliss. You’d never had somebody else wash your hair before, and you weren’t sure whether you would ever be able to go back to doing it yourself after Anthony’s treatment. Embarrassing as it was, you were becoming putty in his hands the longer his fingers stayed in your hair.

“Did you see the message on the table?” He asked as he bent down to collect your conditioner from the floor of the shower.

“Yeah. I’ll get on that as soon as I’m dressed.”

“Take it easy,” He advised, tugging all too gently on the ends of your hair as he ran the conditioner through it, “You’re to stay out of the field until your side heals.”

“What? But-”

“George will be happy to finally get some action,” Anthony interrupted you, “And you can stick to the researching for the next couple of weeks.”

You went to protest, but Anthony’s fingers drove over the top of your head, not putting conditioner on your roots, but lightly coating the hair there, too, and you melted under his touch. His hands were so gentle, his touch so loving and relaxing, that you were powerless to stop your body’s reaction to it.

It was his intention, of course, to get you to relax, but he hadn’t expected your head to fall all the way back until it met his bare shoulder, and he certainly didn’t expect it to stay there, your lethargy removing your inhibitions.

He washed his hands off with the shower head but kept hold of it as his free hand came up your arm to hold your jaw tenderly, supporting you even more than he already was. He kept his eyes securely on your face, watching it relax under his touch, and his own body relaxed more at the visual proof of your trust in him.

Maybe he wasn’t who you’d wanted to help initially, but there he was helping you, and if you wanted to spend the few minutes that your conditioner needed resting on his shoulder, he would stand there silently, willingly. Lovingly.

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood comfort #lockwood and co fic

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 9 months

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Boston Bears: Off-Limits - Rugby Player!Chris x Reader (Part 1)

A/N: Since today is the first day of the Rugby World Cup, I thought there was no better day to start this AU!

Summary: After moving across the country to escape one rugby player, you find yourself in bed with another...

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: Angst! Fluff! Alcohol Consumption! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! Use of Sex Toys! Oral Sex! MINORS DNI!

Rugby Explained

Dividers by Me!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 1

The atmosphere in the stadium was buzzing. Even hours before a match, before the fans or even the players turned up, you could feel it. That buzz that made every nerve ending tingle and it only got more intense as the stadium filled up.

You could feel in your bones that today was going to be a good day, the dreariness of winter was beginning to disappear, well as dreary as it could get in LA anyway. The sun was shining and you knew the team were in top form, with multiple players coming back from injury just in time for the lead-up to the playoffs. Every match from this moment on counted, every point counted. There could be no room for mistakes.

You had already ensured your medical bag was fully packed and ready to go, you had multiple brands of tape because rugby players could get picky. You had rendezvoused with the paramedics that would be on site and hopefully not needed. The last thing you needed to do was go to the changing rooms to check if anyone needed strapping up.

You hadn’t even reached the changing rooms and you could hear the raucous team inside. LA was a pretty loud team, not many of them had a quiet pregame ritual, they riled each other up and became almost animalistic ready for the clashing.

But today something sounded different. The tone was different and before you even heard what they were saying you knew it was something they shouldn’t be discussing. When you actually heard what it was they were talking about you froze.

They were talking about you. And not in a nice normal way, talking about how you patched them up or helped them recover from their injuries. No, they were talking about you, about things that only a partner ever should know about. And that was exactly who was doing all the talking.

“Yeah I mean is she the best I’ve had? Fuck no. But if it helps me unwind, yeah I’ll go” Bryce’s voice boomed through the door making you nearly choke.

You had been dating Bryce for a couple of months now. When you joined the LA Lions last season you were excited to work with The Bryce Langley. He was a player with no shortage of fans, you had seen plenty of thirsty collages made in his honour. You had to admit that you also had a serious crush on him, along with many dirty thoughts about him. So when he approached you at the Christmas party and finally started returning your affections you were over the moon and you were seeing stars when he took you back to his place.

You had expected it to just be a one-time thing but to your surprise, he kept coming back. Your rendezvous became a regular occurrence. He asked to keep it secret and on the down low since he needed to focus on the second half of the season, he didn’t need his fan girls turning on him when they found out he was taken he had said. He promised that you would be exclusive so you agreed, you also wanted to delay the inevitable teasing you’d get from the team too.

You listened in as they continued to question him, the details getting more and more specific and at no point did Bryce stop answering them.

“So you two exclusive?” You heard Brad ask.

“Hell no you can’t keep this guy down!” Bryce laughed and you just knew he was pointing at his dick “fuck I had a blonde just the other day, best lay ever” You let out a scoff of disbelief, all that talk of not seeing anyone else then was bullshit then.

Unable to hear any more you turned on your heel and made your way back towards the medical room. You only got so far though when you bumped into the head coach.

“Any of the guys need strapping up?” He asked you.

“Oh um I dunno” you mutter scratching the top of your head “forgot some tape so just heading back to grab it”

The coach nods slapping your shoulder as he passed “Cool, be quick” he states as he walks away.

“Yep” you say clearing your throat when you heard how weak you sounded.

Rushing the rest of the way to the medical room, breathing out a deep sigh of relief when you found it empty. You dumped your bag on the bed before bracing your hands on the edge, your head dropping as you took in a deep and shaky breath.

It was just locker room talk. Literally. It's what guys did. You had to expect it, did you really think Bryce wouldn’t talk about you? Well, you had expected him to talk when the secret was finally out, just not in that detail because it was no one else business. You tried to calm your mind that was screaming that you had been violated. What he said had been over-exaggerated, more false than true. But there was still the truth, and the others wouldn’t know otherwise.

They’d forget soon enough though. They’d be on the pitch thinking and breathing rugby, and then after they’d be getting drunk celebrating or getting drunk to drown their sorrows. It would be old news soon enough, you just had to weather this storm. You could weather this storm.

Grabbing your bag you stood up straight and held your chin up high. You could do this. You repeated that mantra as you walked back to the changing rooms. The more you repeated your mantra the less convincing you sounded. So when you reached the changing room you took one last steadying breath before pushing inside.

The entire room fell silent as you walked in, the entire team and coaching staff looking over at you. It felt like you had just stepped out onto a stage, the spotlight on you. No, it was worse than that, because it felt like you were naked. Eyes roaming over your body, picturing all the details that Bryce had told them.

The head coach cleared his throat “Brad needs his ankle strapping” he told you before returning to the pre-match speech.

You quickly nodded your head, keeping your gaze on the floor as you walked over to where Brad was sitting in his little cubby. The back-rower filled up the entire cubby his shoulder so broad, he smirked as you crouched down in front of him, his green eyes twinkling with mischief.

You kept your eyes down as you grabbed the tape he favoured from your bag and began to strap up his ankle. Telling yourself to focus on your job, not what could be running through his head right now.

“Hey,” he whispered getting your attention by nudging your leg with his other boot “What you doing after the game?” He asked once you looked up.

“Nothing, just going home” you answered, looking back down at the job at hand.

“Aw not gonna celebrate with us?” He says his tone disappointed.

“You have to win first” you point up, barely glancing back up at him.

“Don’t you worry about that peach” he smirks tapping you on the tip of your nose “I’ve heard you’re a lot of fun, so c’mon come out with us”

You swallowed as you felt bile rising in your throat, quickly finishing your work packing up your bag and standing up “I’m good thanks” you state before turning on your heel and hurrying away.

“All good?” The coach asked as you walked over.

“Uh… yeah… anyone else needs anything?” You ask shouldering your bag more.

“No we’re good, why don’t you go make sure everything pitch side is sorted?” He suggests glancing over your shoulder.

“Yeah of course, thank you” you mutter, breathing out a sigh of relief at the escape he was giving you.

“No worries, office is always open,” he tells you, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

You whisper another thanks, sniffling hoping the tears that were welling up weren’t too obvious. Not waiting a second more you made your way out of the changing room and away from your personal hell.

Despite the fresh air giving you a bit of reprieve, as soon as the team made their way out to begin warming up that sick feeling was back. Your ears felt hot and you could feel eyes on your back, sure enough whenever you turned around you’d spot a couple of players looking your way. Some had the decency to quickly look away, others would just smirk back at you. Brad even ran his hand through his blond hair and sent you a suggestive wink.

When the match started you found yourself praying that nobody would get injured. Something you normally did because you didn’t want a player to get injured but today you really didn’t want to go onto the pitch to fix them up. You didn’t want to give them any ammunition.

You weren’t that lucky though, cursing under your breath when you saw Bryce get up from a tackle limping. You took a deep breath as you grabbed your bag and ran onto the pitch. Bryce had already back down on the floor wincing.

“What’s up?” You ask when you reach him.

“Just cramp but fuck it hurts like a bitch” he grumbles as he rubs his calf.

“Right,” you state as you grab his injured leg and begin to stretch and massage the muscle.

“Jesus gently” Bryce complains, his head resting against the ground.

“You want the cramp the go or not” you snap back at him.

He frowns up at you “What’s put you in a bad mood?” He huffs.

You scoff shaking your head at him, not even giving him the dignity of a response. Did he not realise how shitty it was to tell the team what he did? Did he not see it as an invasion of privacy?

“That better?” You ask once you felt the leg muscle begin to relax.

“Yeah,” he grumbled as he sat back up.

“Good, drink more water you’re clearly dehydrated” you state chucking a water bottle at him harshly.

“Jesus sort your attitude out will you” he huffs as he stands back up and takes a large gulp of water.

“Fuck you” you whispered harshly as you snatched the bottle back and stormed back off the field.

When you reached the home team pitch side base you caught the head coach watching you with his brow arched. A questioning look on his face.

“He’s fine” you tell him before moving back to your seat busying yourself with your pack.

For the rest of the match, every time you had to go onto the pitch you were subject to wandering eyes or suggestive comments. By the end, even the team’s victory did little to elevate the pain you were feeling.

So you made your way to the head coach’s office tears brimming in your eyes as you walked in “We need to talk” you managed.

Chris took a deep breath, the silence of the stadium deafening as he prepared for the kick. He got himself into that peaceful, laser-focused zone. The rest of the world melted away, all that remained was him, the ball and the posts. The crowd could be screaming and he wouldn’t notice.

All that mattered was that the ball went between the posts. The Boston Bears were currently 2 points down against the Toronto Arrows with just seconds to go in the match. A last-second penalty gave rise to this last chance to get ahead. If Chris scored right now the 3 points would win them the match.

He was faintly aware of the timer going red signalling the end of the 80 minutes. After this kick, the match would be over. After this kick, he would walk off either victorious or kicking himself for missing.

His eyes glanced between the ball and the posts and back again. He found the spot he was aiming for, a man in the stands wearing a red bobble hat, if he aimed there it would go in, inches on either side could mean missing the posts, especially with the harsh angle he was forced to work with.

Taking one last breath he began his run up, his boot connecting with the ball with a resounding thud. It felt good as his boot moved through the ball, sending it flying towards the posts. But Chris didn’t take his eyes off the ball, everyone in the stadium held their breaths.

Cheers erupted as the ball went through the posts, securing the 3 points. Chris let out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders and head dropping as the pressure left his body. His team came racing over to him. He barely had any time to prepare as Jensen, the scum half on the team, launched himself as Chris for a celebratory hug.

Even though Jensen was much slimmer in build and shorter by a couple of inches, the force at which he jumped on Chris still had him taking a step back.

Chris laughed as he hugged his friend back before turning his attention to the rest of his teammates. The entire crowd was raucously cheering and celebrating, the few visiting fans making a quick exit. Some of his teammates were looking back at the crowd, cheering and celebrating with them.

As Chris turned to join them, Ari appeared by his side the second-row player wrapping his large arm around Chris’ neck putting him in a chokehold and messing up his hair.

“Never doubted you for a second Cap” Ari grinned as they walked over to where the rest of the team was now celebrating with the crowd.

“Wouldn’t blame you if you did Levs” Chris snorts shaking his head, it didn’t matter if he’d taken a kick like that a hundred times, at the angle it was always going to be a 50/50 chance.

The rest of his teammates congratulated him on winning them the match. Chris responded each time by saying it was a team effort that put the points on the board. He spent the next 5 to 10 minutes walking around the pitch with the team, clapping with the crowds, appreciating their supporters before he was pulled away to give a post-match interview.

“Play nice” the PR manager warned as Chris let out a quiet groan when she pulled him away.

“I do play nice, at least I talk, unlike Axe who just grunts” Chris argues nodding over to Curtis who despite the win still had a frown on his face.

“It’ll be 5 minutes and then you can go celebrate and drink all the beer you want” she says patting him on the shoulder before pushing him towards the press.

Chris forces a smile as he walks over to the press, this was the part of sports he wished didn’t exist. He didn’t want to discuss a match that everyone had just watched with their own eyes, the questions were usually pretty basic and superficial too which he hated. It was the main reason he was so hesitant to become Captain. the responsibility was also a major factor he felt more comfortable with that now in his second season in the position. But the press element that he always had to do would always grate him.

“Chris! That was one nail-biter of a match, what was going through your head as you lined up that kick?” The reporter asks.

“That I better get it between the posts” Chris answers fighting the urge to roll his eyes, at least his answer got a laugh from the reporters.

“The scoreboard was pretty close in that second half, but you managed to clinch that win with that kick,” another reporter says.

Chris waits a moment to hear what the actual question was but only gets an expectant look in response, he lets out a long sigh “Yeah I mean all the guys worked hard to get back in the game, if it wasn’t for them the kick would have meant nothing, can’t take all the credit” he comments.

“Do you feel confident going into the final stretch towards the playoffs?” Another reporter calls out.

“We’re in a good position” Chris nods, he then spots the PR Manager glaring daggers at him so he elaborates “We’ve got areas to improve on and errors to correct but I feel confident that we can go all the way”

“We’ll all be rooting for you, we’ll let you go celebrate but not before presenting you with the player of the match,” one of the lead reporters says as someone steps forward with the player of the match medal.

Chris nods and smiles as he accepts the medal despite not believing he deserved it. There were many others on the team that were more instrumental in the match than he was. Just because he got the winning kick didn’t mean he deserved it, so much so that as soon as he stepped away he removed it from around his neck.

He made his way back towards the locker rooms where the rest of the team already were. They were all cheering and celebrating when he walked in which help push away the dark press cloud that had settled over him. He walked over to Johnny who was standing on one of the benches slapping the roof as he celebrated.

“Oi Storm!” Chris called out getting Johnny’s attention “Congrats” he says tossing Johnny the player of the match medal.

“Really?” Johnny asks his eyes wide as he caught the medal.

“Yeah you deserve it more than me with that hat trick you scored” Chris nods, it had become some form of tradition for him to give up his medal for another teammate, he knew it meant a lot to them. He’d probably only kept a few and that was when no one on the team would accept it and forced him to keep it.

“Thanks cap” Johnny grins as he loops the medal around his neck and continues celebrating.

Chris chuckled as he sat down in his cubby and pulled out his phone to see the deluge of texts from his friends and family congratulating him for the win. He answered a couple, specifically his parents and siblings before chucking it away so he could change out of his kit and hit the showers.

He’d just slipped off his boots when Coach Y/L/N walk in alongside a few other of the training staff. Chris sat back ready to hear what he had to say to the team, there was a smile on the coach’s face but Chris knew he wasn’t pleased with the team’s performance out there.

“Well done team, that was a hard-fought win out there, we got the bonus points thanks to Storm's hat trick” Coach starts nodding over to Johnny who bowed graciously earning a slap on the back of the head from Ari “but the score line should not have been that tight, stupid mistakes were made and too many penalties given away, that needs to stop if you want to get to the playoffs” he continues his voice hard as he scanned the team “we got lucky with that penalty kick, we can’t rely on luck in the playoffs, so enjoy celebrating tonight you deserve it but don’t celebrate too hard I don’t want anyone still suffering with a 2-day hangover on Monday,” he says sending a pointed look certain members of the team who were known wildcards.

“Don’t worry coach, Evans will keep us in check” Ari smirks over at Chris.

“Nah I’m going home,” Chris says with a shake of his head.

“Oh c’mon cap you gotta celebrate with us!” Johnny complains.

“Keep them in check Evans,” Coach Y/L/N says pointing over at him.

Chris lets out a small quiet groan “Sure thing sir” he sighs.

“Good, have fun and I’ll see you all bright and early on Monday” Coach says before heading out of the changing room.

“Right, time to pre-game” Johnny says slapping his hands together before grabbing a cooler and beginning to hand out beers.

Chris accepts the bottle held out to him, he would go out but only for a couple. He trusted the guys not to go too crazy, at least not so crazy that they’d still be hungover come Monday. Popping the lid he took a long swig before grabbing his phone to ask his mom to feed Dodger for him.

Soon enough the whole team were showered and changed, making their way out. They all stopped to take photos and sign shirts for the fans that were still hanging around, even Curtis, maybe the win had put him in a good mood. Once they were done they then made their way to their favoured spot, Ruck Bottom, the only rugby-themed bar in all of Boston.

It was a little dingy being an underground bar but Chris loved it. It was full of his kind of people and Rugby fans, but they never bothered the team. It was the perfect place to celebrate or commiserate following a match.

The team had set up base at their usual spot in the bar, Chris had stayed with them for a while before moving over to the bar under the pretence he was getting another beer.

“Hey, not in the celebrating mood tonight?” Jensen says slapping Chris on the shoulder as he slides onto the stool beside him.

Chris shakes his head “Not particularly” he says honestly “we-I didn’t play well”

“Yeah we made some dumb mistakes and this isn’t really my scene either” Jensen admits with a shrug of his shoulders as he looks around the bar “rather just sit at home with a couple of pals and some cold ones”

A smile tugs at Chris’ lips as he looks over at his best friend “Here, here” he says tapping his beer bottle against Jensen’s.

“But we did deserve the win so celebrate, maybe pick up a hot chick and send her friend my way” Jensen says wiggling his eyebrows.

Chris snorts shaking his head “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks Jensen”

“No worries, and next time we can just play video games at mine, just no Mario Kart,” Jensen says as he gets back up.

“Scared I’ll beat you again?” Chris asks with a knowing chuckle.

“You promised to never speak of that” Jensen states his tone suddenly serious.

The look he gave Chris just made him laugh even more “Sure, now go on, I’ll be back over in a few” Chris laughs.

The goofy grin Jensen was known for soon returned as he patted Chris on the shoulder before making his way back over to the rest of the team. Not before not so subtly nodding to a group of girls nearby, all of which were eying different members of the team.

Chris just rolled his eyes, Chris knew this game well enough to know those girls were only there for the players. They weren’t real fans of the game and only wanted the bragging rights. While Jensen could talk the talk, Chris knew he wouldn’t handle a one-night thing like that well.

Chris returned to his beer taking a few more sips, planning on ordering one more before heading back over to the team. He had only just finished his drink when someone new slid into the seat next to him.

“Congratulations on the win, can I buy you a drink?” The woman said.

Chris’ eyes shifted over towards her and instantly began studying her. She was different to all the other girls here at the bar. While they were all dressed up for a night out, she looked like she’d been somewhere before and wasn’t planning on coming out. Her white tee and blue jeans, a stark contrast to the dresses and tight skirts everywhere else wore. That being said she was definitely the best-looking girl in the bar, she was stunning now and Chris bet she was devastating when fully done up.

“Thanks,” Chris said as he waved down the bartender “Rugby fan?”

She nods “Big Rugby fan from a rugby family, guess you could say it was our family business” she says with a shrug of her shoulders “I’m Y/N” you say holding out your hand.

“Chris” Chris smiles shaking your hand “What do you want?” He then asks nodding to the bartender.

“Same as you,” you say nodding to his beer bottle as you move to grab your purse.

“Sure, two more please and put it on my tab” Chris says to the bartender.

You arch a brow “I thought I was buying you a drink” you point out.

“Yeah but my ma would kill me if she found out I didn’t pay for a lady’s drink” Chris argues with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well I guess I owe you then” you say accepting your beer from the bartender.

“Guess so” Chris smirks as he takes a sip of his beer, as he does so he studies you again for a moment and decides to test you to see if you really were a true rugby fan “So how do you think we played tonight?”

You take another sip before taking a deep breath “Honestly? First half was awful, too many missed tackles it was like you guys had just woken up from a nap, and don’t get me started on the Axe’s yellow card!” You exclaim making Chris chuckle “I know he’s ruthless but he was lucky it wasn’t a red! Right in front of the ref too”

“Careful he might hear you” Chris playfully warns.

You just shrug “I’ve not lied, he needs to be careful if you wanna get to the playoffs, don’t want him to get a ban” you point out “But the second half was good, you definitely worked hard and clawed it back, Storm’s hat trick was insane and your kick at the end was perfect, I’ve seen lots of fly-halfs crack under pressure and miss a kick like that” you continue.

Chris nods appreciatively, you definitely knew your stuff “So you watch us play often?” He asks taking another sip of your beer.

You shake your head “No, I’ve only just moved from LA, but I caught as many games as I could on ESPN” you explain.

“Wow long way to move, what brought you to rainy New England?” Chris asks.

“A job, it was kinda last minute but definitely the right move even if I am already missing the LA heat,” You tell him.

“What do you do?” Chris asks.

“I’m a medic,” you say as you take another sip of your beer.

“Admirable” Chris nods before leaning in closer “Now I have to ask because I can feel his stare burning holes in my back, but you don’t happen to have a friend for my friend Jensen?”

You arch a brow before shifting so you could peer over his shoulder to where Jensen was sitting with the rest of the team, not so casually trying to eavesdrop.

“No sorry, my only close friend is back in LA and she’s engaged,” you say with a small shake of your head.

Chris shrugs “Oh well at least I can say I asked” he says taking a sip of his beer.

The two of you continued talking Rugby for a little bit, discussing the other team’s performances in the League. You had a lot of good insights into the LA Lions which Chris found helpful considering they were their main rival for the championship cup. What surprised Chris was that the conversation easily and naturally flowed away from Rugby and onto other topics. His plan of heading back to the team was completely abandoned because he was having so much fun with you.

“Now,” you say finishing the rest of your beer “I know a pretty cool place where I can get us some free drinks”

Chris arches a brow “Oh really where?”

“My place” you smirk making Chris chuckle, that was very smooth “The only downside is non-members can’t stay the night”

That made Chris laugh out loud “How do I become a member?” he asks.

You shake your head “I can’t tell you, you just have to earn it” you tell him.

Chris gives you a lopsided smile and nods his head “Okay… okay… I like a challenge and I do like the sound of free drinks so sure” he says waving down the bartender to settle his tab.

You had no clue what you were doing or why you were even doing it. You had been so burnt by a rugby player before, so much so that you fled across the country and now you were taking another back to your place. As you got closer to your apartment the more you began to question it, but every time you looked up at Chris and saw his sweet genuine smile as he talked to you, you remembered how different he was to Bryce.

You took a deep breath and reassured yourself. Chris wasn’t Bryce. What Bryce did was humiliating but you shouldn't have to change your behaviour. You couldn’t let him get to you, you just had to get back on the horse, or in this case… a different horse.

“You alright?” Chris then asked pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm?” you hum in confusion.

“You just seemed to zone out for a moment, look if you’ve changed your mind then it's cool,” Chris says stopping and turning to face you holding his hands up “I’ll just walk you back so I know you’re home safe and then I get a cab home”

You felt the feeling of dread completely seep away as you looked back up at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. Yeah, Chris was nothing like Bryce. One, Bryce wouldn't have even noticed you closing in on yourself and two, if he did he wouldn't have cared he would have just ploughed on so he could get his fill.

“I’m good, just got a little chilly for a moment, but thank you” you smile reassuringly.

Without a word, Chris shrugged off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders “Better?”

“Much better thank you, we’re not that far away” you smile tugging Chris’ jacket around you more as you nod up the street in the direction of your apartment building.

“I’m used to the cold” Chris winks making you chuckle.

Soon enough you were at your apartment building and unlocking the door. As Chris stepped inside he let out a quiet whistle as he looked around at all the boxes.

“When you said you’d only just moved, you really have only just moved” he chuckles.

“Yeah, my dad is stopping around tomorrow to help me unpack” you explain as you walk into the kitchen as grab a bottle of scotch and two tumblers.

“Hence the no-overnight rule” Chris nods in understanding as you pass him his drink.

“Yep, can’t risk sleeping in” you chuckle as you take a sip of your scotch “I have unpacked all the essentials though,” you say with a suggestive wink.

“And by essentials you mean?” Chris smirks taking a step closer to you.

You take another large sip of your scotch, practically draining the glass “Toiletries, a few kitchen bits, booze… toys”

“I do like a good toy” Chris smirks, his voice deepening, the blue in his eyes disappearing as his pupils dilated.

“Not threatened?” you ask arching a brow, toys were always a no-go with Bryce.

“Never” Chris grins as he downs the rest of his glass in one gulp, he then takes your glass from you and sets them both down on a nearby box “Still wanna play?”

Your heart was beating in your chest, arousal already pooling at your core as you breathed out “Yes”

Chris instantly responded, surging forward, his large hands cupping your cheeks as he crashes his lips against yours. You instantly melted into the kiss your hands gripping his top to keep you upright. Fuck he was such a good kisser, it was like he had magic lips. You instantly started wondering what those magic lips could do elsewhere.

Gripping onto his shirt you pulled him backwards towards your bedroom. You bumped into and knocked over boxes as you went but you didn’t care, you just focused on unbuttoning his shirt. Chris had a similar sentiment because he’d already tugged your white tee up and over your head. One large hand cupped your breast over your bra while the other gripped your jaw to keep you exactly where he wanted.

When the back of your knees hit the bed you didn’t have a chance to do anything before Chris hooked one hand behind your knees and swiftly lifted you onto the bed. The bed creaked as you landed and Chris climbed on top of you. You cupped his jaw as his lips met yours for another, more heated and deeper kiss, one that drew moans from you and had your back arching into his touch. Something he took advantage of by unhooking your bra.

Only then did he pull back, a lopsided grin growing on his face as his eyes scanned over your body. Your nerves got the better of you as you shifted to cover up, but before you got the chance to Chris bit his lips and shook his head.

“Fuck you’re so hot” he groaned.

You let out a small huff, shaking your head at the compliment. Chris responded by gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze.

“You’re so fucking hot” he repeated as he leaned back down to press a kiss to your neck “So. unbelievably. fucking. hot”

All the nerves you had disappeared as he continued to kiss and worship your body. He left no stone unturned as he worked his way down, learning how to play your body and make it sing.

When he reached the waistband of your jeans he looked up at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question. You knew your answer immediately, if he didn’t get your jeans off and start doing something down there you were going to explode.

“Yes, fuck yes” you moaned, bucking your hips into his touch.

Chris chuckled and gave you a wolfish grin as he unbuttoned your jeans and began to pull them and your underwear down. He hooked a hand behind your knee, parting your legs and letting out a low groan when he caught sight of your arousal. You were pretty sure he murmured another ‘fucking beautiful’ but all logical thought disappeared when he pressed a kiss to your core.

You were already seeing stars in your eyes and you hadn’t even hit your peak yet, you were starting to think you might not even survive a Chris-induced orgasm. Had you even had sex before Chris? Because if this was sex then everything else you’d be doing was wrong, everyone else had been wrong.

“Shit- fuck- don’t stop right there” you moaned your thighs clenching around his head, his beard burning the inside of your thighs.

Chris listened to your pleading, something Bryce never did, and didn’t change a thing, not even the tempo. Whenever you told Bryce you were close he just got more intense which never helped, you were lucky if you got off. All thoughts of Bryce disappeared as something snapped within you and you were hit with an earth-shattering orgasm.

You weren’t sure how long you had been lost in the post-orgasm bliss but when your vision cleared you could see Chris sitting back on his heels, a shit-eating grin on his face as he licked his lips.

“Bedside table drawer?” He asked.

“Good guess” you wink biting your lip in anticipation.

Chris grins leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste your own arousal on his lips. As he kissed you, you heard him reach out to your bedside drawer, first pulling out a condom and leaving it on the side before grabbing your rabbit vibrator.

Your breath hitches when you heard him turn it on and press it against your core. Your hips buck into his touch as he ran it up and down your core coating it with your arousal.

“Stop messing around and get to it” you groan trying to shift closer and get the friction you needed.

This time Chris didn’t listen to your pleas, instead he pulled the vibrator away making you whimper at the loss.

Chris just tuts “Good things to good girls that wait… are you a good girl?” He asks holding the vibrator just close enough for you to feel a whisper of its vibrations.

You couldn’t quite make yourself speak so you just nodded which clearly wasn’t enough for Chris as he moved the vibrator further away “Ah-ah-ah I need those words” he says shaking his head.

You let out a curse, eyes screwed shut “fuck- yes-yes I am” you finally managed to say.

“And are you going to continue to be a good girl?” he asks pressing the vibrator against your clit, sending shockwaves up through your body, making your back arch.

“Yes-yes- yes I promise” you chant hips rolling into his touch as he moves the vibrator down towards your entrance.

“Good, because trust me sweetheart I wanna get a move on too but gotta warm you up first” he hums as he slowly pushes the vibrator into you, eliciting a loud moan from you.

One hand gripped your hips to keep you in place as he slowly pumped the vibrator into you, you could barely keep your eyes open while his were set firmly at your core, watching the toy disappear into you.

He bit his lip to hold back a moan “fuck you look so good, can’t wait to watch you take my cock like you take this” he groaned pressing the button on the vibrator to increase the intensity.

He pumped the vibrator in as far as it would go, the rabbit ears rubbing deliciously against your clit. He then left it there as he moved to get off of the bed “Don’t move, don’t even think about it” he instructs as he stands at the edge of your bed.

You do as you’re told letting out a small whimper as he pulled his shirt off allowing you to get a good look at all the tattoos you had glimpsed earlier. The large eagle across his peck, the tiger just above his hip bone, along with many other smaller tattoos that you just wanted to explore with your fingers…your tongue…

He smirked to himself as your eyes gazed over his impressive chest, he definitely had the body of a rugby player, you could just see the strength those well-defined muscled held. Your attention shifted as he then began to undress his lower half until only his boxers remained.

You let out a groan when you saw the large tent, fuck he looked big already, just the idea of him had your walls clenching around the vibrator and your head dropping back against the pillow as a moan escaped your lips.

When you felt him climb back onto the bed you hoped he would deem you ready but instead, he cupped your jaw and kissed you deeply. A kiss that had you wrapping one arm around his shoulders to keep him there and one leg hooking over his hip, the change of angle making you moan into the kiss.

You felt Chris smirk as his lips moved from yours, making their way down your jawline and neck. Periodically nipping at your skin only to soothe it with a wet kiss. Your breathing was growing erratic as he reached your chest, he timed it so that just as his lips found your sensitive peak and sucked, he turned the vibrator up another setting making your back arch as you cursed out a moan.

You didn’t get a second of reprieve as his hand then joined your chest to play with your other breath, the calluses on his fingers making you whimper as he tugged and played with your sensitive peak. You could feel his electric touch all over your body, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. This man who you’d only just met was playing you like a violin he’d been playing his whole life.

“Please- please- ch-Chris I’m- I’m close I-I- just” you gasp as your shift beneath him your body unable to decide what direction it wanted to go in.

He pauses for a second, glancing up at your as he presses a kiss in the valley of your breast “Since you asked so nicely” he murmured, reaching down once more between your bodies to turn your vibrator up to its highest setting.

Stars exploded in your eyes as your second earth-shattering orgasm rocks through your body. You thought the first one was intense but this was on a whole other level and you just knew it was only going to get better. Your body went completely limp to the point that you didn’t even feel Chris pull the vibrator from you.

“You’re looking pretty spent” he hums as he presses a soft kiss to your lips “wanna call it a night?”

Those words alone were enough to snap you out of the post-orgasm bliss “Don’t you fucking dare go” you warned, tone dangerous. There was no way you were going to let him leave after that, even if finally having him and a third orgasm could kill you, you were willing to take that chance.

A wide smirk grows on Chris’ lips “You don’t have to tell me twice” he says reaching over to grab the condom he’d set aside earlier.

You watched with hooded eyes as he finally removed his boxers and allow you to get a glimpse of him. Your jaw drops when you see his sheer size, your gaze transfixed as he rolls on the condom. He wasn’t kidding when he said you needed to warm up, you thought that was just his ego talking but no he was actually being pretty humble because you didn’t think he could actually fit.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow” he smirks as he finishes putting on the condom.

Had you actually been speaking this entire time, or did he just read your mind? His lips twitching upwards had you thinking it was the former. You bit your lower lip in anticipation as he moved to rest between your legs. Your breath hitched when you felt him brush against your core. All of a sudden every hesitation you had was gone and replaced with a dire need to just have him.

He slowly dipped his head to capture your lips in a tender kiss as he lined himself up and slowly began to press into you. You winced slightly when you felt a twinge of pain but before you even had a chance to register it the feeling turned into pleasure.

“Fuck you feel so good I’m not gonna last long” he groans sweat collecting across his brows which were furrowed in concentration, his words made you clench around him “Especially if you do that” he adds.

Your chest heaved as you also tried to hold yourself back, he hadn’t even begun to move and you were close, “sorry” you muttered.

“Don’t apologise” he chuckled “Just don’t get your hopes up” he smirks with a playful shrug of his shoulders.

“My expectations have already been exceeded’ you say honestly, unable to stop yourself.

Chris chuckles again leaning down to capture your lips once more “Thanks, my ego needed that” he smirks “You ready?”

His question brought you back to the moment and you realised how desperate you were for him “fuck yeah” you mutter hooking your leg around his hip to get encourage him.

“Say no more sweetheart” Chris grins as he kisses you deeply and begins to move.

He starts off slow like he promised but it wasn’t long until you were begging him for more. When you suggested this you had fully intended it to be a one-time thing so it was easier not to catch feelings, but Chris was like a first hit of a drug that you were already addicted to.

“Fuck- please tell me you’re close” Chris groans his head dipping into the crook of your neck.

You wanted to say yes but you just couldn't find the words to utter a syllable. Instead, you settled for a vigorous nod of the head which Chris instantly got. His hand moved between your bodies until he found your clit. All it took was a few expert rubs for you to completely come apart, and your body ascended to another dimension.

Your entire body spasmed and your walls clenched around him, pushing him over the edge right after you, pulling every last drop from him. His chest was heaving as he gently pulled out of you and removed the condom. You were vaguely aware of him disposing of it before returning to your side.

“I know you said there was no staying over but you’re not gonna kick me out straight away right?” he asks gently brushing some hair from your face, his head resting in his other hand as he lay on his side.

You smile softly as you look over at him, taking a moment to admire his body once more “No I don’t have the energy just yet” you smirk.

Chris laughs leaning over to kiss you softly “Good and I promise I won’t overstay my welcome, I’m not interested in a run-in with your dad,” he says making you snort with laughter.

“Smart call” you nod smiling back at him.

For the next twenty or so minutes you and Chris continued to talk as you recovered from your highs. The conversation flowed just like it did back at the bar like there was no break at all.

Once you had both fully recovered you threw on his shirt as he got re-dressed “You know I’m gonna need that” he says nodding over to you as he buckles his belt.

“You have a jacket” you point out not willing to give the shirt back just yet.

“Yes, but I don’t think my coach will be happy if a picture of me surfaces walking home shirtless” he points out walking over to you “You do look sexy in it though” he murmurs as he pulls it open exposing you to the breeze.

“Let me keep it then” you smirk taking a step closer to you.

Chris hums as he cups your jaw and tilts your head back to capture your lips with his. You instantly melt into the kiss to the point that you didn’t even notice him pushing the skirt off your shoulders.

“Gotcha” he smirks stepping back and pulling his shirt back on.

“Well played Evans” you chuckle stepping away to grab an oversized hoodie from a nearby box and throwing it on.

“It's why I’m the playmaker sweetheart and I have one last play to make” he smirks with a confident grin.

“Oh really what is it?” you ask arching a brow as he walks back over to you.

“To get you’re number” he says holding out his phone to you.

You couldn't help but laugh and nod your head as you took his phone “Not as smooth as your other moves but I appreciate it” you chuckle as you typed your number into his phone and pass it back.

“You don’t want mine?” he asks arching a brow at you.

You shrug “I’ll get it when you decide to text” you smirk.

Chris lets out a huff of a laugh “Alright, well I’ll talk to you soon and I’ll let you get some rest because you have a lot of unpacking to do tomorrow” he says glancing around at all the boxes as you walk him back to your front door.

“Urgh don’t remind me” you groan already dreading it.

“Just gotta have a reward for when you’re done, something to motivate you” Chris suggests.

“Yeah, you better text tomorrow then” you wink making him laugh.

“I will, talk to you tomorrow, goodnight Y/N” Chris smiles softly as he leans down to kiss you.

“Talk to you tomorrow, night Chris, get home safe” you say making his smile widen slightly.

He presses another languid kiss to your lips before slipping out and heading home. As soon as you shut your door you turned around and looked around at your apartment which suddenly felt very empty.

Sharing is caring so please reblog and leave a comment to really make my day!

This series has no schedule, please don’t ask when it will be updated!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist but follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary and turn on post notifications to stay up to date!

#niamhwrites #Boston Bears Series #Boston Bears: Off-Limits #Rugby AU #Rugby Player!Chris #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x Reader #Chris Evans x You #Chris Evans x Y/N

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morallyinept · 4 months

Text

A full character analysis on JAVI GUTIERREZ from the film THE UNBEARBALE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

Basic Details:

Full Name: Javi Gutierrez

Nickname(s): Javi

Appears in: The Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent, 2022 (first appearance seen at approx. 18:50)

Age (if known): 39/40 - Javi has invited Nick to his 40th birthday party

Nationality: Spanish - Javi lives in Mallorca, Spain. Javi's villa used for filming is actually Villa Shehereazade, which is based in Dubrovnik, Croatia

Sexuality: Straight

Family: Father, deceased. Cousin, Lucas Gutierrez. No other family mentioned

Spouse/Partner: None, however Javi is in love with Gabriela Lucchesi

Relationship Status: Single

Current Living Status: Alive

Languages Spoken: Spanish, English

Education: Not confirmed, although Javi writes a script that is made into a film, so assumed basic schooling/college education at least

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: Face of a cartel posing as an Olive Grove business run by his cousin/script writer

Special Skill(s): Able to memorise all of Nick's films, use of firearms

Notable Colleague(s): Nick Cage

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): None

Piercings: None

Scar(s): None

Other Markings: Freckles on neck

Eye Colour: Brown

Prominent Feature(s): Brown curly hair, facial scruff that is slightly greying, moustache

Injuries: Javi is shot in his left shoulder by his cousin Lucas. Javi is also hit and knocked over by a car when he runs out into the road, although he is high at the time and doesn't seem obviously injured.

Hair Colour: Brown

Personality:

Traits: excitable, wild, impulsive

Javi speaks with a Spanish accent as he is from Mallorca, Spain. His cadence is light and mellow, and he weaves into Spanish when excitable and high.

Javi seems to be the highly suggestible type, letting his imagination run away with him. He also seems to live vicariously through Nick's films, unable to do so in his own life.

Javi is the face of a cartel, posing as an Olive Grove business, which is run primarily by his cousin Lucas after Javi's father passed away. It is not confirmed exactly how much Javi knows about the day-to-day dealings of the business, as he wasn't aware of the kidnapping, however he says to Nick, "my cousin Lucas is the head of the organisation! The whole world thinks I run it. When my father died, Lucas took over. He forced me to be the figurehead..." so there is some assumption that Javi would know about some of the business dealings to some extent. And is potentially being manipulated by his cousin as he also tells Nick that "you don’t just leave this world, Nick. You, and everyone you care about, is in constant danger."

Javi is in love with Gabriela, however does not act on it to keep her safe. Explaining this to Nick, he says "I can’t be with Gabriela because that would put a target on her back."

Javi goes through a character growth arc by standing up to his cousin and doing the right thing in the end, even if he knows it will put his own life in danger. Together, he and Gabriela take on Lucas. Javi says to Nick, "I'm never going to have any kind of a life unless I stand up to my cousin! I need this."

Javi appears to take drugs recreationally. He is seen smoking a joint with Nick after jumping off the cliff, and they also take LSD drops to get inspiration for their movie.

Javi is seen cliff jumping and also driving whilst high on LSD, indicating he likes to have adventure and live on the wild side.

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfit 1 - (Opening scene on boat) Light blue blazer, white and grey striped shirt, brown chinos, brown belt

Outfit 2 - (With Gabriela scene) White and grey striped shirt, brown chinos, brown belt

Outfit 3 - (By the pool scene) White and blue striped speedo, cream linen shirt, sunglasses

Outfit 4 - (The cliffs scene) Striped button up shirt, white vest top, burnt orange pants, white sneakers

Outfit 5 - (Paddington scene - 2nd outfit) Cream chinos, white and red striped button up, white vest top

Outfit 6 - (In pool with Nick) Red swimming shorts

Outfit 7 - (Javi's birthday party scene) Green two-piece suit, blue print patterned shirt, gold ring on pinky finger on left hand, dark shoes

Outfit 8 - (LSD scene) Brown striped shirt, green pants, blue sneakers, ring and watch

Outfit 9 - (Clay pigeon shooting scene) Red striped shirt, cream chinos

Outfit 10 - (Nick's family scene & remainder of scenes) Yellow checked linen shirt, blue rolled up pants, brown suede loafers, trades for Nick's Vans sneakers

Outfit 11 - (Premiere scene) Black two piece suit, white shirt, black silk tie with silver stripe detailing

Accessories: Gold Rolex watch, sunglasses, gold ring on left pinky finger with what looks to be a diamond cut into it

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)

Javi's gun is a Glock 17 (3rd Generation) hand pistol 9x19mm

Javi's collectible Golden Guns are Castor Troy 24k Gold Titanium Springfield Armory M19-11-A1 V-12 Pistols .45 ACP

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Javi owns and drives a silver Porsche 356 Pre-A Speedster with the license plate 216F1AG

Javi owns and drives a green 1984 Land Rover 90 with the license plate 940OFJI

Javi owns and drives a speedboat, which appears to be an Art of Kinetik Antagonist model

Dialogue:

🗨 See Javi's full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

Behind The Scenes TUWOMT, Behind The Scenes 2nd Video, More Behind The Scenes Footage

Samples of Javi's Wardrobe - Watch, striped t-shirt, sunglasses, yellow shirt, blue sneakers & Adidas sneakers info obtained via Styleofpascal IG

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

#pedro pascal #javi gutierrez #pedro pascal characters #PPCU #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi g #tuwomt #pedro pascal character study #pedro pascal character database

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silversweetpea · 2 years

Text

A Promise Made

word count: 1543

Summary: It dawns on him, in that moment, that you are much more fragile than he had expected. And equally so that this revelation unsettles him.

Warnings: Offscreen injury mentions, Reader gets lightheaded and slightly dizzy from blood loss.

Author’s Note: It is four am and I would like to imagine a bit of a protective situation as a bedtime story thanks. Also I’m not sure how I feel about this writing because I’m worried that the style is too similar to other writings i’ve done but again, it’s four am, I don’t know if I can trust my own opinions here.

❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿ ❀✿❀✿

Dream was a difficult man shaped amalgamation to read, but that never stopped you from trying. Telling the difference between jaw clench of amusement and jaw clench of anger never got easier in the months since Johanna had called in an old favor for some help and you had met him, but you had a feeling you knew what emotion it was that darkened his gaze in this moment.

“I’m fine.” You said again, and you had to commend yourself on keeping the shake from your voice. The nightmare hadn’t seriously hurt you, part of you wondered if it would have though had Dream not found you when he did. Splitting up had seemed like a good idea at the time, it had made more sense to cover more ground, ask more people who they may or may not know the locations of. Even nightmares had friends, after all.

Dream hadn’t moved an inch in the chair beside your bed since you woke swaddle in the comforters. You didn’t know the details of what had happened after you passed out, there was just a vague memory of fear and then safety.

“Dream-” His gaze didn’t move from the bandages across your chest. A precaution, nothing more, but the wrappings were large enough to peek up under the collar of your shirt. There was a thought that maybe he hadn’t heard you that was gone as quick as it came when he spoke.

“When you are healed, I will have Mathew escort you home. Your assistance is no longer required.” The safety you had felt was a distant memory replaced with a chill.

“Excuse me?”

“I will find the rogue nightmare on my own.” Dream stood, eyes snapping shut. There was something in his features, or maybe the way that he held himself, that made your entire being bristle.

“The whole reason you asked Johanna for help was because you couldn’t.” Your body ached ever so slightly as you forced yourself into a sitting position. The sound of the bed creaking seemed to startle him, those eyes you had such complicated feelings for finally meeting yours. “This is ridiculous I’ve been more than helpful in this whole ordeal and you’re going to just send me home because of a scratch?”

“(y/n),” He took a step closer to the bed, hand reaching up as if to usher you back down to rest. A motion that never quite finished as his hand hovered in the space between you. It took you only another second to force yourself to your feet and enter his personal space.

“No, I want to see this through. I told you I would help and I’m going to.” You had never thought of the king of dreams and nightmares as a particularly intimidating person. Sure, he was brooding, but in a wet cat sort of way. Tall and lanky and dark, yet never scary, not when you had seen him so gentle with his friends.

“I do not want your help, nor do I need it any longer.” The words that should sting instead make you scoff. You were nearly toe to toe with him now, the hand that had hovered so noncommittedly in the air still airborne.

“And why’s that? Did you suddenly find her while I was passed out here?” It occurred to you for the first time that Dream was taller than he had ever been. He seemed to tower over you. It was harder to ignore the chill you felt this time than when you had been wrapped in blankets. “Or maybe the asshole that tried to kill me had a bit more information than I thought and you know exactly where she is now?”

“This is not up for discussion.” His narrowed gaze draws out a scoff.

“You’re being ridiculous. You can choose not to work with me but I’m going to help you.” The room spins ever so slightly as you turn to leave the room. You weren’t sure where you were going to go yet but you were sure you would figure it out as you went. The library maybe? Lucienne was busy but she knew more about the kingdom than anyone right now.

You had barely made it to the door before you could feel the soft pressure of a hand around your wrist.

“It would help me more,” Dream’s voice was soft and strained. As if the things he was saying pained him to put to words. “to know that you are safe.”

The room spins slightly harder and it occurs to you that maybe the nightmare had gouged you a bit more than you thought. The turn to face him is slower than any you have ever made and behind you you can glimpse the window. It isn’t quite raining out but the sky is unnaturally dark, clouds swirling like the stars in his eyes.

“What?” You can’t remember if blood loss can cause you to mishear people. You don’t want to risk embarrassing yourself even if it’s not.

“I could not protect you in my realm. How can I trust in my ability to do the same outside of it?” The silence feels deafening, like a creature with its own presence trying to pry the two of you apart. You try not to focus on its weight, however, instead distinctly aware of the fact that Dream is still holding your wrist. His touch is cooler than you had thought it would be but not quite unpleasant. In fact its quite the opposite.

“And you think sending me away will keep me safer than if I stayed with a literal king of dreams and nightmares? Really?” Your voice tremors and your skin feels electric from the contact. You want to rip your hand from his grasp and take his hand in both of your own at the same time. “Do you know how many beings out there would love to catch me alone right now?”

“You will not be alone, you will have Constantine.” Dream’s voice was barely more than a whisper. You wouldn’t think his lips had moved at all had you not been watching his face so carefully.

"You’re being an idiot,” The clouds are darker now, you hadn’t thought it possible but the sky seems to be absorbing the light that tries to warm it.

“You need to rest.” For the first time since you met Dream seems to be genuine in asking instead of assuming you will follow through with what he says. It almost makes up for the way that his eyes flit to your point of connection and slowly releases his grasp.

“Do you promise to be here when I wake up?” The bedroom is suffocatingly small in this moment, not helped by the waves of nausea rushing over your person.

“Why must you be so obstinate?” For what is meant to be an insult, Dream’s gaze and and tone are softer than one would expect. Or maybe not. For all the times the two of you have bickered you’re not sure you can remember ever hearing any sort of heat in his words towards you.

“Its the only way I can get you to notice me.” Usually your remark would earn you a slight smile, maybe a particularly strong exhale if Dream is particularly amused. Now though, you see only concern.

“I notice you regardless of your temperament.” You’re not even aware you’re reaching out until the man startles ever so slightly. Heaviness weighs upon your body and your grip tightens just barely. Just enough to try and pull him back from the way his thoughts visibly surround him.

“Dream,” Blue eyes search your own but you’re not sure what he’s looking for. His height is returning to that which you’re familiar with and its strange to see. To watch him shrink and soften before you all the while holding his hand in your grasp. Even as Dream nods, a just barely there movement you’re not even sure of at first, you think that he looks better this way. Familiar is good on him. So is Kind.

It’s easier to lean into him than you had thought it would be. The hand you insist on holding begins to gently steer you both back towards the bed, his free hand circling to hover over your lower back.

“Rest, we can continue this conversation when you awaken.” You’re scared to loose contact with him in case your...whatever Dream is at this point, will slip away in a moments notice. Even as he convinces you to sit you’re not entirely convinced that he’s not just waiting for a moment to usher you back to the waking.

“Do you promise?” Its your turn to whisper as you allow him to help you back to bed. For a heart stopping moment he stands at your bedside and you think he’s leaving.

And then, the chair is pulled closer to the bed, enough so that his knees touch the side of the mattress when he sits.

“I give you my word.” Dream’s voice is warm and soothing as hot chocolate on a winter night and from the window behind you you notice sunlight begin to filter through the window.

#Dream x reader #Morpheus x reader #Dream x you #Morpheus x you #Dream of the endless x reader #Dream of the endless x you #Morpheus fluff #Dream fluff #Dream of the endless fluff #Morpheus headcanons #Dream headcanons #Dream of the endless headcanons #Morpheus imagine #Dream imagine #Dream of the endless imagine

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shadowbriar · 1 year

Text

Anthony Lockwood - I Love You So

Pairing : (F/M) || Anthony Lockwood x TouchGifted!Reader Word Count : 5.7k. Damn I’m on fire this time. Warning : Mention of blood and injury. Angst. Possible OOC as I haven’t read the books. Not proofread. Synopsis : The ambition they’ve nurtured for years finally start to create a space between them, straining their relationship that turns what once were friends into colleagues. Notes : Inspired by The Walters - I Love You So. This song is very Lockwood coded for me, I recommend listening to it while reading. Please help and try to save Lockwood & co by using the hashtag #SaveLockwoodAndCo on social medias and don’t forget to vote for them on National Film Award 2023. You can check my friend Paulina’s tweet to see how. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Her fingers trace the writings on the thinking cloth, lips unintentionally curved into a smile whenever George's silly comment or Lucy's mocking remarks were visible. Their early bicker about their planning process replays in her head. She's always been one to easily record information in her head, no further recall or revising needed for her to proceed with their plans, but given her troublesome nights lately, supposed a late night go over with a cup of tea would be a brilliant idea.

“Trouble sleeping?”

She looks up, welcomed by smiling Lockwood who's leaning by the kitchen door, “Something like that.”

“Why didn't you come to the library?”

“Wasn't in the mood for a late night quarrel with you.”

She shot him a playful smile, earning a light chuckle that didn't sound like it was heartfelt. Just enough to let her know that he understood her sarcasm.

Lockwood steps in, pouring himself a cup of tea and sitting across her. She could feel his eyes trained on her, taking in every detail and admiring it as he wouldn't do it during the day. For whatever reason that might be, she wasn't sure. But it wasn't like he ever professed any feelings for her. For all she knows he might just be spacing out and planning something in his head completely unrelated to her.

He calls her name.

Not looking up to meet his eyes, she hums, “Hm?”

“We're good.. Aren't we?”

No, no we aren't, she thought. He might not notice it but the distance growing between them has been eating her alive. She wasn't sure when it started nor what exactly is the cause for her invisible wound, but something's changed between them. He would be there in the morning when they eat breakfast, would be there when they watch their late night show on the telly, but Lockwood has been anything but a friend to her. He's turned into a stranger she hardly recognise. There was a wall between them, one she couldn't climb nor break through, and it's maddening that she couldn't fix it or talk about it.

Because what exactly changed? She doesn't know.

“Of course.” She faked a smile, feigning her most believable tender tone “What makes you think we're not?”

Lockwood opens his mouth before closing it again, sealing it with a smile as if he thinks it would be better to entertain her lies, “Nothing. Just wanted to be sure.”

She nods, looking back down to the thinking cloth.

“Will you join me tonight?” He asks again, nervousness bleeds through his tone. This wouldn't be the first time he asks her to sleep with him, just to hold each other until the sun rises, but for some reason it feels much more nerve racking than the countless previous. Perhaps because for the first time, her answer might not be pleasant to his ear “We can discuss further about the plan. Maybe my rambling can help you drift to slumber.”

“Not tonight, Anthony.”

It's taken her every willpower to not look up and take her words back. She can imagine the disappointment in his eyes when she hears him let out a sigh. She's avoiding him now. Perhaps scared to actually feel the distance between them when she lays on his bed, no longer feeling the safety of his embrace.

“Alright,” He mutters as he stands and pushes his chair “Don't stay up too late, we need you sharp and alert for tomorrow's job.”

Again, she only replies with a nod.

When the doorknob lightly clicks, she lets out a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding. Her eyes now avert to the door, where he was standing just a few minutes ago with that proud smile and tired eyes. He looks the same, the very same Anthony John Lockwood who'd caused them numerous troubles on the field, the very same Anthony who's ego seems to inflate whenever a rapier is at hand, the very same boy she's been madly in love with for years.

There were moments when she thought that the water flows both ways. When he would hug her first after winning a fencing tournament, or when he would hold her after a terrible nightmare, or simply when he would give her freshly cut toasts for breakfast. The little things one would not notice as something sentimental after years of growing up together. But she does. She notices.

Perhaps had even taken things too seriously when it might just mean nothing for him.

She lets out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair and rubbing her temples gently. It might just be nothing, she tries to convince herself, it might just be the stress of work for both of us. With the agency's growing popularity and demands of clients that never seem to end, perhaps all her troubles were just caused by it. That nothing is wrong between her and Lockwood, that there is no distance, no space between them.

—-

“Another massive win for us, I might say.” Lockwood says as the squad enters 35 Portland Row. His arm was around her shoulder as support, dried blood littering his left cheek from the early action of the mission, but neither the ache nor wound on his temple seem to wither his satisfied-self “The papers are going to have to write about us this time.”

Lucy groans as she tidies their rapier to the stand, “Keep me out from them, please.”

“Oh, but you're the star of this agency, Luce!”

Lucy dismisses Anthony's remark as she proceeds to ascend the stairs, visibly in desperate need of a warm shower.

“I wouldn't want to be involved too, thanks for asking.” George sarcastically commented with eyes still studying the locket they retrieved from the site. An ancient relic that would be his source of research for the weeks to come “You two would be enough of a punching bag for them to pick on.”

Lockwood turns to her as George retreats to his room, a happy grin still etched on his face, “Looks like it's gonna be us two again.”

“We can worry about the press later. You have a wound to treat first.” She replies as they begin to walk deeper into the house “And don't keep your hopes too high, Anthony. DEPRAC has a tendency to stomp on our dreams.”

Wincing slightly as he rests himself on the sofa, Lockwood watches her leave the room to get their med kit and a basin full of water. He could never get tired of this. Walking home after a successful mission, her tending his wounds that wouldn't be there if he would just suppress his impulsive-self, and listening to her scolds about how he acts like he's got nine lives on his sleeves.

But when she returned with her kit, the nagging that he's braced himself to face never came. She remained quiet, eyes locked on his wound. Not even a second spared to look into his eyes.

The cleaning process felt like a blink of an eye. Before he knew it she was already fixing the bandages back to the aid bag. His wound was cleaned, a thin layer of healing ointment lacing it. All done in silence, no lectures.

“Try to keep the wound dry when you shower, alright?”

Lockwood blinks. Nodding at her words as he tries to digest the silence they're in.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I don't think so.” He answers.

She flashes a smile, standing from her seat. Without another word she exits the room, carrying the basin that is now slightly red from his blood and the aid bag. She spared no other glance at him. Silently returning the medical kit to the cabinet before entering her room and locking it shut.

Perhaps today isn't a big win after all.

—-

Having Lucy in the company has exponentially boosted their success. Such brilliant talent has brought them more accomplishment that it was getting troublesome for them to finish one mission to another. Lucy was truly Heaven sent, in short. The saviour to their dying agency and she could never thank her enough to revive Lockwood's dream back to life.

She understands the importance of Lucy's gift for their team and how the company is at it’s golden moment right now. Sure she and Lockwood are two of the most gifted agents there are, but with Lucy in the crew, the quartet was unbeatable. And it is obvious that Lockwood is determined to reap as much advantage as possible.

“I'm going to the grocery shop, anyone needs anything?”

It was a lazy Sunday morning. George making notes on the thinking cloth, Lucy trying to listen to their newest source, and Lockwood leaning on the kitchen set with his brows furrowed, clearly in a deep thought.

“I'll come with you.” Lockwood says as he picks up his coat “George, you said we need more teabags, right? Anything for you, Luce?”

The girl shakes her head, looking rather annoyed to have her focus broken from his question.

“I can go alone, it's not going to be a huge shopping trip.” She says as Lockwood comes to her “Really, Anthony, you can just stay and help brainstorm the plan.”

“I'm coming,” He insists with a light chuckle “What is it with you? Are you avoiding me or something?”

Yes, she wanted to say, I'm going out to have a breath away from you.

Lockwood opens the door, gesturing to her to come and ignoring her lack of answer, “Come on then.”

With a last smile and wave of goodbye to George and Lucy, she follows Lockwood's step outside of the house. The wind was blowing gently, sky clear and blue, the very perfect weather for her to take a stroll yet her mind couldn't help but to overlook such perfection and worry about the body walking next to her instead.

Lockwood's hands were buried deep inside his pockets. He was looking down to the cobblestone, as if there was some invisible stepping for him to step on. The creases on his forehead are a clear indication that his mind is occupied elsewhere. Almost as if he was mirroring her.

“So, uh,” He begins, trying to break the ice between them “What do you need from the shop?”

“Just some snacks and sweets.” She answers “You?”

He shrugs, “Maybe just a pack of gum.”

“Right.”

Lockwood nods, turning his gaze back to the road.

For someone who loves to brood in silence, Lockwood has always had her as an exception. She's the only person he could let his chatter-self loose, expressing all the most trivial thoughts he has, knowing that she would indulge them with a welcoming commentary or simply a warm laughter. The kind of laughter that makes you feel seen and heard. Her kind of laughter.

But after all her evident effort to turn him down, asking to be paired with George on their missions, declining his invitations to spend the night in his room or the library, and the most recent no-scolding-moment when she tended his wound, Lockwood couldn't help but to feel pressured on finding a topic to talk about.

“So what do you think about our last job?” He asks, forcing a happy smile as she turns to see him “A rather brilliant achievement, don't you think? With Lucy in our team, I'm certain our agency can be big in no time. Hell, we might have to start rejecting clients soon, can you believe it? We're lucky to have found such gifted talent-”

“Lockwood,” She cuts in, making him wince at the use of his last name instead of his first “Can I ask you a favour?”

He blinks, “Anything.”

“Let's not talk about work until we get back home, okay? Can I ask that of you?”

“Sure,” He nods “Of course, no talking about work for the rest of our shopping trip.”

She flashes a smile in gratitude, locking their arms together as a means of apology for stomping on his light. He smiles at her, a genuine one, before patting the back of her hand and continuing their walk to the grocery shop.

—-

The trolley wheels through the aisle as she scans for the particular brand of chocolate. She would certainly need a big bar of it along with a pint of ice cream tonight. For once after what seems to be forever, she finally cracked the code. The cause of space that has been growing between her and Lockwood has been found. What is left now is to find a way to solve it and to tell him about how they need to separate their lives with the job.

When he first told her about his dream of having his own agency, she was ever the most supportive and kind. Dropping her brilliant achievements at the academy, she was the first or perhaps second agent of Lockwood & co. Their talents were more than enough to ever become the elite team if they were in another agency, but since the company was still on its baby roots, finding clients was rather challenging. Things were getting better when George joined and even more brilliant now that Lucy is part of the team. She would have never expected his dream to be in the way of their personal lives.

Everything is just work, work, and work now.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger.”

She turns to see the man, a wide smile plastered on his face. Almost as radiant as his yellow leather uniform, “Quill, hi!”

“Oh, it's been forever.” He says as they share a hug “Are you here alone?”

“Lockwood,” She replies “He's wandering around but with you here, I'm sure he'll pop up in no time.”

The two chuckles at her commentary. Lockwood and Kipps were always the cause of her nightmares back in the academy. The two boys could never seem to act civil, always bickering and hostile to one another, but when she's alone with either of them, they would act the most gentle as if she was someone they love dearly for.

A different kind of love from each of the boys, of course.

“How are you?” She asks, her expression turns to slight worry “Is it getting any better?”

Kipps smiles painfully, “Barely holding on. We've got to make most of what we have, don't we?”

If there were no bad blood between the two she would have offered Kipps to join the agency years ago. Having known him for years and to see just how brilliant he was, the way his techniques were always showcased whenever they have a fencing duel, it is no wonder that people hold a big expectation on his shoulders. He was promoted as supervisor in no time due to his proficient skills but with his talent slowly weakening, he needed someone to help patch this rather embarrassing fragility.

“Have you given it a thought?” Kipps asks with a gentle tone “I heard that Lucy girl is of great help for your team. Do you think you could finally help mine instead?”

“Quill–,”

“Kipps,” Lockwood says as he circles his arm around her shoulder, showing a rather possessive manner at the sight of them “What are you doing here? You're not stalking us, are you?”

Kipps snorts, making a disgusted face at him, “This is a public space, Lockwood. Don't flatter yourself.”

Understanding that their time has come to an end, Kipps flashes her a smile and walks away. He knows that Lockwood wouldn't give them another second to talk so unless he'd want him to know about his persisting issue, it was best for Kipps to find himself out of the scene.

“What did he want?”

“Nothing, we just had a chat.” She lied, pushing Lockwood's arm off of her shoulder and continued to wheel the trolley.

“About what?”

“About nothing of your concern.” She replies “You might never see him as one but Quill's a friend of mine, Anthony. We were just having a friendly conversation.”

Lockwood frowns at her dissatisfying answer. She's keeping something from him but whatever it is, he knew that poking about it now would be the recipe for a nightmare. Her sour mood hasn't watered and it would be wise for him to just let her be.

Besides, it wasn't like she'd leave him. Not for Kipps of all people.

“Can I ask you something?”

Lockwood turns to her, a loving smile decorating his face, “Anything.”

“How are you, Anthony?”

He frowns, “Splendid, how are you?”

“No, I mean, how are you?” She repeats, sighing in frustration to convey her true meaning “I don’t know anything about you outside of work anymore. What music do you listen to now? What book do you read? Do you even read still?”

Lockwood remains quiet, waiting for her to continue with her words so he would understand better.

“I live under your roof, see you almost 24/7. You’re the first person I see in the morning and the last I would bid goodnight to, yet I feel like I don’t know anything about you anymore.”

“That’s not true.” He argues, still not understanding the severity of their discussion “You know everything about me.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t you?”

“Stop turning my questions to me, Anthony. You know I don’t like it when you do it.”

His chuckle breaks, now pulling her for a tight hug, “Is that what you’ve been worrying about? That you don’t know me anymore?”

She remains quiet.

“If there is anyone that knows me down to my fibre, it would be you.” He continues, patting her head gently to soothe her “I mean, I suppose I have been too occupied with work but that doesn’t mean that you don’t know me anymore. We still share our meals together, watch our favourite shows and spend most of our time together. You’re still the one friend that knows me best.”

“I suppose,” She gives in “I’m just worried that this whole ghost hunting thing is burying our reality because I genuinely can’t draw the line between work and our lives anymore.”

“Well, our life is the agency, is it not?”

She shrugs.

“Hey,” Lockwood calls, breaking the hug and cupping her face to look into her eyes “You know me. I’m not a stranger to you, alright? You know what my current favourite jam is, what kind of tea I enjoy at the moment, and what colour of socks I wear the most. We’re still the same people as we were five, ten years ago.”

She smiles, nodding as she melts into his sweet words, “Alright.”

—-

"Anthony, I don't like this."

The group puts down their bags as they arrive at the mansion. Examining the place from the outside, she can already tell that whatever is waiting for them inside isn’t anything close to what they’ve encountered before.

“It’s still a couple hours till sunset but the energy is already this strong.” She told him, her senses heightened in fear “We’re not equipped to fight such a visitor, Anthony. Best we go back, rethink our plan, and maybe ask for assistance.”

“From who? Kipps you mean?” Lockwood asks with a bitter expression. He rubs his nose, a habit he does whenever he’s trying to tone down a brewing exasperation “Look, we’ve been through this a hundred times. The plan is foul proof, I can assure you. By this time tomorrow we’ll be crowding the sitting room, watching whatever unknown movie George picks to enjoy.”

“This isn’t about your ego or old feud with Quill, Anthony. There’s nothing wrong in understanding your limit and drawing the line. No shame in dropping a job we’re not capable of.” She tries to reason “Think about our safety.”

“You’re safe,” He insists, placing his hands on her shoulders for assurance “Nothing bad will happen to any of us. I’ll keep an eye for you, I promise.”

Not giving her another second to argue, Lockwood walks away and begins to help Lucy fixing the metal chain. The inside of her stomach flips when the wind blows. She knows that even for people who aren’t gifted, the atmosphere the mansion offers is nowhere close to the word homey. There’s something dark and cold, peeking through the windows and she could feel it in her bones that none of them four is strong enough to battle such power.

She walks to George and begins unloading their equipment. Her brows furrow at the sight of a strange item. A circular ball that looks like their salt bomb, only that it is heavier and bigger in size.

“Careful,” George says as he takes it from her hand with care.

“What is that?”

“A new bomb.” He answers “It has salt, lavender, and some other chemical thing inside that would explode from sudden force. Throw it to the floor and whatever visitor we meet would evaporate to thin air.”

“That doesn’t sound very safe.” She mutters, turning her eyes back to the mansion “I hope we don’t have to use that tonight.”

She looks back at Lockwood’s direction, trying to ease her worry by repeating his words in her head. Lockwood knows what he’s doing. They’ve been through the plan a hundred times, just like he said. Nothing will go wrong tonight. Everything is collected and under control.

—-

“Make it stop!” Lucy wails, closing her ears tight with her hands “Please, make it stop!”

“George, give us the chains!” Anthony yells as he tries to calm Lucy.

George quickly runs to their aid as she tries her best to fight the ghost with her rapier. She might not be the best there is, but she’s neck to neck as good as Lockwood and that should give her friends enough time to cast more protection for Lucy.

It hasn’t even been two hours since they entered the mansion and already the plans they came up with burned to ashes. This is more than just a case of an old abandoned house. The amount of type two occupying the building is enough to tell them that their client hasn’t been truthful. This place must have witnessed a mass murder, perhaps a cult sacrifice, to hoard this much energy.

“We need to find the source.” She says as she battles the ghosts “I can’t use my talent while fighting these ghosts.”

As if on cue, Lockwood came and began to fight the ghosts. He turns to her for a brief moment, “Go. I’ll protect you.”

With a nod, she walks away from her spot, running to the other side of the room. She places her hands to the walls, trying to get a clearer picture of what they’re dealing with.

The sound of screams and crying begin to fill her ears. There was so much pain and sorrow. This mansion has seen the worst of human acts, inflicting as much agony as possible to innocent lives. Her consciousness was slipping away, drowning in the torment that she is sensing and if it wasn’t for Lucy’s scream of cry acting as her tether to reality, she would have sunk in a ghost-lock condition.

“The blade,” She says as she finally gets the idea of their source “The source is a blade. An old one with a gold handle and Latin engraving.”

“Great work,” Lockwood praises her, his prideful smirk tugging on his face “George, prepare the chain net. Be ready to cover it.”

“How exactly are we going to find it? It’s pitch black here.”

Lockwood chuckles, “Well, use your flashlight, why don’t you?”

The three of them now begin to scour the place whilst fighting the ghosts coming in their direction. The screaming in her head gets louder as they come closer to the source, almost deafening her physically. Her stepping was getting unstable. Energy and focus drained out of her with every bead of sweat layering her skin.

“Stop!” She yells, dropping her rapier as the cries become unbearable “It hurts, please stop!”

“Oh, no,” George, who was closest to her, now kneels down and tries to bring her back to consciousness as he lightly taps on her cheeks.

“George!” Lockwood calls, panic seems to finally sink in as he watches her wail in pain “The source must be close, try to find it. I’ll protect her.”

Nodding, George begins to crawl away and look for the damned blade. His hands found what seems to be an old cabinet and began to rummage through. With very limited lighting and no idea of what the blade looks like, searching for a piece of steel through a locker full of metal items feels fruitless.

Scanning from one drawer to the other, George lets out a satisfied chuckle as he finally finds what they’re looking for. But before he could take it out and cover it with their chain net, a handful of ghosts headed his way.

“George, watch out!”

In the heat of the moment, George throws the chain net to the drawer, hoping that it would land and cover the blade, before throwing the new bomb to the ghosts.

To their luck, the chain net did fall on top of the source but due to the close proximity and the lack of understanding of just how big the explosion the bomb would produce, George was thrown out of the wall from the impact. Bits of broken wood scratch his skin and there was a big gash on his forehead.

George was unconscious.

—-

Opening the keys to 35 Portland Row with a tired yawn, she put down her scarf and hung her coat by the rack. She’s been staying at the hospital for days, only returning home to take a shower and bring a new set of fresh clothes for George. Her body was aching. The scars on her skin from the previous mission are still fresh and hurting but none of it compares to the fatigue of worrying for George’s being.

The terror from that night still haunts her. How her head was filled with wails one moment to complete silence and darkness as George successfully covers the source. She remembers scanning the floor with her hands to find her flashlight, trying to get some light to understand their situation better, only to be completely frightened by the sight of George, lying unconscious with blood pooling around him.

“You’re home,” Lockwood greets, a relieved expression evident on his face.

She nods, not giving him an answer as she walks past him.

“How is he?” He asks as she gets to the stairs.

“Still unconscious but his vitals are stabilising.” She answers “You'd know if you visit him yourself.”

“I want to, but I need to finish the report and paperworks.” Lockwood reasoned, following her behind like a lost puppy “Lucy's out at the library to do some research about our next mission. With George at the hospital I think we'd need more time to make our plans.”

She rolls her eyes, fist balling as she tries to hold in her anger.

“I was wondering if you could go to the DEPRAC office on your way back to the hospital and drop the locket? Inspector Barnes called and-”

“Anthony!” She yells, finally turning to face the boy who's now pale from her sudden outburst “Are you even hearing yourself right now? Sending Lucy to work on our next job, asking me to stop by the DEPRAC office, you being busy in your little library, do you not even care in the slightest for George? He's lying unconscious at the hospital for a work I've told you to drop about!”

Lockwood remained silent. His expression is hard and unreadable.

“I've told you that we didn't have the equipment nor skills to do the job. I've told you that the visitors are much more powerful than the ones we've faced before. I've told you to at least ask for help for the task and yet you've dismissed it all and look what it's brought us, Anthony!”

“Yes, but we did it, didn't we? We secured the source.” Lockwood answers with feigned optimism, giving her his unsure smile as he steps closer “We took a hit, sure, but it's not like George didn't know what he was getting himself into.”

She blinks at his words. Now taking a step back away from him as she tries to digest his answer, “Is that what you're going to say when each of us falls?”

His expression softens, “You know I would never let anything hurt you.”

“Yet here I am.” She argues, her poison laced smile evident “Hurt and wounded.”

Lockwood was at a loss of words. He remained silent, staring at her with his pleading eyes that silently screams for her to drop this and forgive his faulty words. But his silence served as nothing but a mere slap to reality for her that Lockwood was just a boy with a naive dream and no understanding of the risks he's committing the team to.

“I thought this was all I wanted.” She says with a volume just above a whisper, a pitiful smile plastered on her face as she tries to keep her tone steady. The cracks of her breaking heart is visible through her expression “You're everything I want, Anthony.. But I can't deal with your ambitions anymore.”

Giving him no chance to explain, she retreats to her room and slams the door, leaving him defeated in the hallway. The house feels colder now somehow. As if the silence wasn't enough to weigh his guilt even more. Lockwood knew that he messed up but never had he imagined that he'd ruin things this far. Especially not with her.

—-

Days have been slightly better now that George's discharged from the hospital. The kitchen is once again filled with their chatter but not nearly half as much laughter as before. The nightmare of wounded George still haunts her days and torments her at night. She would never be able to work with the squad as she did before. Something has changed in her and there's no turning back now.

Lockwood on the other hand has tried every possible way to talk to her but with every chance he makes to pursue her, she just has a hundred more ways to turn it down and avoid him. Her silent treatment was driving him nuts and it would be an understatement to say that he's desperate to fix it.

Now sitting in his study room, Lockwood turns to the door as he hears a light knock. She peeks inside with a slight smile, the most he's gotten after their fight a couple weeks ago.

“Can I come in?”

“Have I ever said no?”

She nods, stepping inside the room timidly. A piece of paper in her hand.

“What is it?” He asks with a warm smile, hoping that this would be the start of their reconciliation “What can I help you with?”

She looks down to the letter in her hand, sighing before handing it to him, “I wanted to give you my resignation letter.”

Lockwood stares at her blankly, not moving from his chair.

Gently, she reaches for his hand and hands him the paper. Lockwood's eyes were glued on her, trying to catch any trace of jest from the words she uttered. He prays for all gods out there to let this be a joke. Some cruel prank she's pulling on him as payback for his dickhead move for the past months. But as the ticking of the clock in the room grew louder, her playful smile never appeared.

“Why?”

“Anthony–”

“I promise to do better, I swear it.” He begs, standing from his seat and carelessly putting the letter away “I'll make better plans, I'll calculate each and every possibility there is and I'll listen to you better. Any input you have, I'll highlight it and make it work. Please, just– Don't leave. Don't leave me.”

She had to look away from his eyes before her fortress crumbled. Lockwood knows just when to put those big puppy eyes out and win her heart. But there's just so many times she could spare herself for him. There's just so many chances she could give and no matter how much she wishes and prays that this time would be different than the last, she knew that the damage done would still leave scars on them. An invisible one that could only be healed with time and space.

“Please,” Lockwood begs, seeming on the verge of tears “Name your price. Anything, please, just say it.”

“What I want you cannot give, Anthony.” She answers with a bitter smile “Because if you could, I know you would have given it to me years ago.”

“Just name it, please. Do you want a rise? Do you want to switch rooms? Do you want your name to be the agency's name? Because I can do that. We can just change the company's name to yours.”

A tear escapes her eyes. She knows that he was being genuine, that he was willing to give up anything to make her stay. But even with all he offers to give, Lockwood still couldn't see the one thing she desires of him.

And it's crystal clear to her now that he could never give the one thing she needs of him.

Placing her hands to his cheeks, she cups him gently and smiles, “You're going to be a brilliant agent, Anthony. Lockwood & co will be the best agency there is, I know it. I believe it.”

“Then why are you leaving?” He asks with a defeated tone “Why won't you be here with me?”

Because you won't love me the way I love you, she thought.

“Please,” Lockwood pleads “I can't lose you too.”

Pulling him for a hug, his dam finally breaks as sobs begin to echo in the room. He holds her tight, afraid that she would disappear if he loosens his embrace just a little. He would miss the sweet scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her body when he needed some comfort after a terrible nightmare, and her joyful laughter that always seemed to drunken him in bliss.

If only he would tell her exactly how he feels.

“You'll never lose me, Anthony.” She whispers to his chest, listening to his heartbeat before they part “I'm yours, always.”

↠ If You’re Going to Break My Heart

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