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#I want to be a good nurse so so so so bad
steddieas-shegoes · 3 days
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cw: mentions of scarring, canon-typical violence, flashback (not graphic), minor body horror (again, not graphic, mostly just emotional feelings about scars)
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Everyone gave him weird looks when they walked in, quickly schooling their features when they noticed he was awake and watching them.
He didn’t know exactly what that was about.
They had him on a lot of good drugs.
But eventually he got weaned off them, and he noticed the pull of bandages on his side, and his arm, and his neck, and his face.
He was still unable to get out of bed. Still couldn’t even reach his arms above his chest for more than a few seconds.
But he damn sure reached up to feel the cloth and plastic surrounding his cheek. How had he not noticed for days? How had no one bothered him about it?
Maybe they had and he just didn’t notice. The morphine was one hell of a drug.
Wayne was soft, patient with him. Saw him touching it, saw the way his eyes filled with tears. He’d never been particularly vain, hadn’t cared much about what he looked like to others, but this felt bigger than that. This felt like he was changed in a way that everyone could see.
Add it to the list of things people could bully him for.
He cried himself to sleep, Wayne’s hand in his, silently comforting in the way he’d always done.
When he woke up again the next morning, he was alone.
It was the first time he’d been alone since the boathouse.
He could swear he heard bats outside his door, screams coming from the attached bathroom, flashes of someone dying on the ceiling.
He felt the sharp sting of teeth puncturing his skin.
He felt hopelessness creep into his bones as he gave in.
Maybe this time they would finish the job.
“Eddie!”
Steve Harrington’s voice broke through the thoughts, panicked enough to bring Eddie back to his hospital bed within a second of hearing it.
“Shit, are you okay?” He continued, hand brushing against Eddie’s bandaged cheek.
Eddie nodded once, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch.
He could blame it on any number of things if Steve felt weird about it. The morphine, the flashback, the loneliness.
“You’re okay, Eddie. I promise. Won’t let anything happen to you,” Steve whispered.
Eddie believed him.
He fell back asleep with Steve’s hand gently cupping the mangled side of his face.
If Steve could still touch him there, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
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Steve came by every day, sometimes in the early morning, before visiting hours officially started, sometimes well after Wayne had left to get some sleep. He always smiled when he walked in, a genuine one, not the one everyone else gave that was so fully of pity and pain he couldn’t bear to make eye contact. He sat down on the side of the bed, not the chair like everyone else, not scared to be close.
And every single day, without fail, he would run his finger along the edge of Eddie’s bandage on his face, watching his own movements and cataloging any changes.
Eddie sat quietly, still, scared to put words to anything happening. Scared to tell Steve what it meant to him to have someone acknowledge his pain in this way. Scared to think Steve could mean anything by it.
It was easy to pretend Steve was doing this because he cared.
Maybe he did care.
But he didn’t care the way Eddie wanted him to, needed him to.
So he stayed quiet, still.
He watched.
He fell asleep while Steve talked about his day, the kids, what Joyce made Hopper do around the house.
He woke up alone most days, but that was okay, because Steve would be there eventually.
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“You ready to get that thing off?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the bandage.
“Oh. Today?” Eddie suddenly didn’t want to ever be without the bandage. Removing it meant he’d see what was under it.
It meant seeing how much that place had ruined him.
The pull of the stitches hadn’t been as obvious with the pull of the bandage masking it.
But now it’s all he felt.
The nurse smiled at him as she put some antibiotic cream over the area, saying he would probably still have to keep it extra clean for the next week or so while the stitches did their job.
Wayne smiled at him in the way that meant he didn’t really want to smile at all, but knew Eddie needed him to.
Steve didn’t come.
Eddie didn’t sleep.
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He woke up with panic in his chest and a silent scream in his throat.
He woke up with Steve’s hand on his face.
Gentle, soft, but a strong comfort.
“Promise I washed them first. They said we have to be careful about germs,” Steve said quietly.
“You don’t have to. I know it’s…it’s gross. It’s ugly. I’m ugly.”
Steve shook his head. “No. Not gross. Not ugly. Alive.”
“Steve-“
“You’re alive, Eddie. You could have your entire face held together by staples and you would still be a miracle. You’d still be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Well, Steve’s charm wasn’t an exaggeration, was it?
He wasn’t even sure if the skin barely pulled together could blush anymore, or if the heat that should be on his cheek was burning on the outside the way it felt like it was on the inside.
“It’s gonna be awful when it heals. I saw it in the mirror.” Eddie could feel every stitch in his jaw, the few that spread across the corner of his mouth and bottom lip, the ones that were nearly up to his ear. “I’ll always have a crooked face. The scar will always be huge. It’s all anyone will see.”
“Then they aren’t looking.”
Eddie bit his lip, eyes searching Steve’s. “But you are.”
“No. I’m seeing. There’s a difference. I see you. I see what you’ve survived. I see the mark it left on you. I know it wasn’t just the scars that cover your skin.” Steve leaned his head down, touching Eddie’s forehead with his own. “We all have them. And we’re all still here. Your heart’s beating. That’s all that matters to me.”
“Who knew you were so good with words?” Eddie smiled sadly.
“Robin says I’m just good at not having a filter.”
“She’s right as always.” Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, turning as slowly as he could to kiss his palm. “You’re not scared of it.”
“No. Are you?”
“I’m scared that you’ll change your mind when it’s always there as a reminder of what happened.”
Steve kissed his nose, making him smile for the first time in what felt like years.
“I’ll have the reminder that I got you out of there. That no matter what, the bats couldn’t finish the job. That you were stronger and you made it.” Steve let his hand drop, but quickly laced his fingers with Eddie’s. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you to trust me, but will you? For today?”
“Just today?”
“I’ll ask again tomorrow.”
“And what? Every day after that?”
Steve smirked.
His eyes were glistening with tears, but Eddie could tell it wasn’t sadness or fear.
“If that’s what I have to do.”
They hadn’t even talked about feelings, not really. Nothing that made any sense to Eddie, nothing that they could define. A part of Eddie was still convinced he was in a coma and dreaming this entire conversation up.
But even the nurse had noticed the way Steve watched him, how he touched him, how he fought for him. She said he’d been a firecracker from the moment he carried him into the hospital, dripping blood on the tile, staining the halls with his demands for help.
Wayne said he barely left his side the first day, only doing so when the doctors had told him they would call the cops if he didn’t.
Erica even noticed how things had changed between them, stating that she refused to watch her babysitter and the only DM she had respect for make out.
But Steve held Eddie, made him feel like he could get out of the hospital bed and live a life that wouldn’t keep him running. Steve was there.
Steve might even love him. If not now, then some day.
And Eddie could trust him today.
He could probably trust him tomorrow.
“Kiss me?” Eddie probably shouldn’t. The stitches tugged when he talked, and another mouth anywhere near his wounds was just asking for an infection.
But Steve would be careful. He knew what Eddie could handle.
It was barely a kiss. A graze of the lips at most.
But it was the best kiss Eddie had ever had.
At least until tomorrow.
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dfortrafalgar · 1 day
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I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling the Cracks)
Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem. But now, it might as well be a dream come true.
Warnings: read chapter 1 for warnings.
Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men | @nerdisthenewcool | @lilypadmomentum | @1dkneo | @kitsunechan707
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Chapter 31
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“I… I feel like I need to push,” you grunted out.
Your doctor ran to your bedside.  “Okay, dear, okay, follow my lead, alright?”  She assisted in turning you on your side, adjusting your various tubes to better accommodate your position.  “Like we discussed, okay?  This position will help reduce the pressure on your pelvis and make it much easier to push.”
You nodded, your expression contorting in a grimace as a much stronger contraction ran through you in waves, lingering in your muscles like radiation. Your hands were curled up by your head, lacking anything to hold on to, so you resorted to fisting the white cotton sheets covering the mattress below you.  It felt mildly uncomfortable, but as soon as you were settled, you felt like your muscles were able to work much more effectively.  You breathed out a pained sigh, the pressure in your lower abdomen increasing in waves.
“You’re starting to crown already,” another nurse spoke up.  “Your body is already so primed for delivery!  It’s like you’ve been practicing.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this was your third or fourth baby!”
“I’m going to hold your hand, alright?” your doctor asked, confirming with you on what would make you the most comfortable.  “How bad is your pain?  We can get you started on an epidural.”
“It’s…”  As soon as the contraction ceased, another one followed in its place.  You were outrageously close.  “It’s pretty bad,” you confirmed.
“I’m impressed, when I gave birth to my first, I almost passed out.  The pain was so bad!” one of the nurses at the other side of your room called out.  “You have quite the tolerance!”
You flashed a weak smile.  If only these nurses knew.
Your doctor rubbed your head reassuringly.  She really did feel like a mother in her own right.  “We’ll start that epidural.  Once that’s in place and you’re stable, we’ll begin pushing.  Can I get you anything?”
Your eyes wearily glanced up at her calm, reassuring face.  “I know it’s a long shot but… can you call my husband?”
The second lung was almost fully detached.  Over halfway through the surgery now, it had been much faster and more successful than anyone thought it would be.  Alongside a few breaks that were taken by the staff to relieve themselves and stretch their backs, sterile orange juice breaks sipped through plastic straws, and brief physical therapy for the unconscious patient to make sure his blood continued to circulate properly and his skin wasn’t damaged, the operation was going very, very smoothly.
And thank goodness.  Law needed some good news right now.
Among the beeping sounds of the patient’s heart monitor, the wrrr of the bypass machine, and the soft chatter amongst the team as they worked, a new sound infiltrated the space.  In the farthest corner of the room, Law’s hospital pager went off.
“What was that?” one of the nurses asked.
“My pager,” Law responded.  His voice was laced with anxiety.  He was barely keeping it together, and who knows why his pager might have been going off in the middle of an operation.
The circulating nurse took it upon herself to snatch up the small device, pressing the response button.  The best, or arguably worst, thing about the pagers was how loud they were.  Everyone could hear the voice that came through the other end.
[Dr. Trafalgar Law?  Dr. Trafalgar?]  It was a woman’s voice.
“I’m listening,” he shouted back.  The nurse stepped slightly closer with the pager in her hand.
[This is Nurse Kaya from Labor & Delivery, your wife is crowning.  Just wanted to let you know.]
Spoken far too casually for the news that made Law’s stomach drop like a brick.  He was missing the birth.
“FUCK,” he suddenly shouted, his hands still carefully working at the lung’s connective tissue.  It was as if his body and his mind were on completely different wavelengths.  So much for operating room etiquette.  The air in the room had gone completely cold as nervous glances among the team were shared.
“Doctor, I’m not opposed to relieving you with another on-call surgeon.  I know this is a huge ordeal, but we’re almost done and… this is a special case,” one of the head nurses spoke up.
He was clearly deliberating heavily in his mind.  He wanted to run, carry himself as fast as his feet could handle, and get to your side.  He needed to be there with you.  He was missing the birth of his first child.  A lump developed in his throat.  The protective husband side of him had the stoic, focused surgeon side pinned against the wall with a knife to his throat.
“Get the on-call surgeon here immediately and have him gowned and sterilized,” he finally barked, passing his tools off to his assistant and stepping away from the body.  A few relieved gasps were shared amongst the team as the circulating nurse brought Law out from the theater and into the prep room where she assisted in frantically undressing him from his surgical scrubs and passing his phone and pager back into his possession.  His operating room attire was quickly disposed of in a biohazard waste bin while he quickly washed his hands in the nearby basin.
“Doctor, good luck,” she said with a smile, her eyes crinkling under her mask.
Law could only pass her a faint grin as he shrugged on his white coat, stuffed his phone in the pocket of his slacks, and sprinted out of the prep room.  On the way, the on-call surgeon passed by and planted a reassuring smack to Law’s shoulder before replacing him.
Law was breaking every hospital rule there was.  Sprinting through the hallway, his feet hammering against the tiled ground as he fought his way through the hospital’s expansive campus, past patient rooms, nurses’ stations, and waiting areas.  Why did L&D have to be so far away?!  His eyes followed the signs on the walls pointing him in the right direction, his muscle memory leading the way.  He scaled two flights of stairs two-at-a-time, the muscles in his legs screaming at him to stop.  He was almost positive he would tear a muscle with how fast he was running.  But that didn’t matter.
Finally, finally, he pushed through the doors into the maternity ward, flashing his badge frantically at the nurse behind the check-in desk.  He was panting, barely able to catch his breath, one of his hands shaking as it supported his weight against the desk.
“My… Trafalgar… where… shit…” he panted, beads of sweat pilling on his forehead below his ragged bangs.
“Down the hall, take a left, then a right,” the nurse instructed, her voice pleasantly calm.  She must have seen this a lot.
He barely uttered out a ‘thank you’ before he was off again, pounding down the tiled hallways past delivery and recovery rooms, past the expansive NICU and small groups of families and doctors.  He had tunnel vision.  He needed to get to you.
Take a left.
Then a right.
He almost sprinted past the door to the delivery room you were in, only backtracking when he caught the pained sound of your voice from within.  He flung the door open, nurses surrounding you jumping from shock at the sight.
“Dr. Trafalgar?!” one of them exclaimed, her eyes wide.
Law ignored her.
Your eyes went wide, your hand being held by the doctor who had admitted you.  Tears immediately brimmed in the corners of your vision as a pained smile broke out on your face.  Law took the spot of your doctor instantly, almost throwing himself at you as he littered your face with kisses, grasping your hand and holding in his pain as you squeezed harshly against his bones, the force of another contraction gripping your body.  You were laying on your side, one of your knees tucked upward toward your chest as far as you could manage to allow the baby more room to come out.  You had an epidural tube sticking out of your spine, your upper body barely covered by blankets and the open-back hospital gown to accommodate for the birth.
“You made it…” you wheezed, torn between the attention on your husband and the baby coming out of you.
“I couldn’t miss it… I couldn’t…” he wheezed.  He was still very winded, his lungs shuddering for breaths.  Any longer and he would’ve been the one needing a dual pulmonary transplant.
“Ready for another push?” shouted one of the nurses at your bedside above the noise.
You nodded, biting your lower lip.  Your face was glistening with sweat.  Your body tensed up, gripping Law’s hand like a lifeline as you pushed, a pained groan emanating from deep within your throat as your eyes pinched shut.
“How is she doing?” demanded Law, gazing at the doctor who took her spot at the end of your bed where your legs were parted.
“She’s doing great, both babies are in cephalic position, her blood pressure is good and her heart rate is even better, it’s unlikely she’ll need emergency intervention.  I’m incredibly pleased considering her medical history,” the older doctor explained.  “Come over here.”
Law gazed at you, a fond smile on your lips as you released his hand so he could join his extended colleague at the foot of your bed.
“Delivering on her side helps lessen the pressure on her body as well as the baby’s,” the woman explained.
Law’s breath caught in his throat.  Emerging from you was a head of fuzzy black hair, slicked with amniotic fluid.  One of the nurses called for another push, and your lower body tensed up, your muscles clenching as hard as they could while you pushed the baby out more.  Law quickly returned to your side, grasping your hand once more.
“Baby… how are you doing?” he asked, desperate for your personal opinion, his lungs finally settling as he took in your exhausted appearance.
You grimaced.  “The epidural has been helping, but it hurt like a bitch going in,” you groaned.  “I’ve been having contractions since 2 in the morning.  I just want them to be out already.”
“Once the head is delivered, the rest will be easy!” one of the nurses called, a bright smile on her face.
Law felt himself smile as well.  Being a delivery nurse must have been incredibly rewarding on the best days.  He glanced at the clock on the far wall.  It was almost 10 in the evening.  His heart panged in his chest.
“You’re doing amazing, baby, you’re amazing,” he whispered in your ear, planting another kiss against the soft, sweat-soaked skin of your forehead.
“One more push, dear!” the doctor called.
Your eyes squeezed shut, your muscles contracting with all your might at the count of the nurses assisting you, your hand clamping down on Law’s.  He held in his grimace of pain, supporting you as best he could.  Some slight hand bruises were nothing compared to what you were experiencing.  How chivalrous of him.
A sudden rushing feeling emanated from your body, a wet sensation prickling your skin through the numbness of the epidural.  Your heart rate picked up, your eyes growing wide as you worriedly asked, “What was that?!”
“Your water broke, dear!  Everything’s alright!” a nurse responded.
You moaned in pain.  “It’s about damn time.”  Your grip on Law’s hand released slightly, and you watched as a small smile appeared on his lips.
With one more push, the pressure in your groin finally dissipated somewhat as a nurse pulled your first baby out of you.  With the collapse of the amniotic sacs, it was much easier to deliver the rest of its body, much to your relief.  As soon as the contractions stopped, however, they began again.
“Keep going, darling, just one more to go!” the doctor called.  “It’s right there!”
You barely had the energy to pick your head up to look, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as Law examined the nurses huddled around your baby at the foot of your bed.  It was placed in a small portable incubator, being hooked up to machines to assess its condition.  35 weeks was still pretty early, so it made sense.  Its umbilical cord was clamped about two minutes after emerging from your womb.  Law tried to keep his anxiety repressed as your body shuddered with another contraction.
“The second baby is always easier, darling, you’re already fully dilated from the first,” explained your doctor, giving a reassuring pat to your ankle.
“First baby’s stable!” called one of the nurses.  “It’s a girl!”
Law felt his chest clench at the news.  His eyes lit up as he gazed at you, a smile pulling on his lips.  A weary smile formed on your own face as you were instructed to push once again.  Much to the room’s relief, the second baby did indeed come out much quicker than the first.  The loss of the amniotic fluid from your uterus and the stretching that your pelvis had endured with the first made it worlds easier for your second baby to emerge into the world.  The process repeated- a quick cleaning, a clamp after two minutes, and a quick check of vital signs.
“Another girl!” one of the nurses called, assessing the second in another small incubator.  “Also stable!”
You were helped onto your back in somewhat of a hurry, the two boxes containing your babies pushed toward your bedside where they were quickly gathered in bundles of blankets and placed on your chest.  It was all happening so fast, the world was practically blurring around you.  As soon as your babies touched your skin, it was as if a deep-rooted instinct emerged from you.  Law watched with pride as you nestled your newborns into your chest, your gentle hands holding their backs as they took in their first breaths as living humans.
Holy shit.
The room had quickly gone quiet around the four of you, a few of the nurses cleaning you up and reviewing your condition while additional nurses left the room to prepare suitable beds in the NICU for your newborns.  Even though they were both healthy and stable, they needed some extra time to grow.
“Law…?” you asked weakly, turning your head to look at your husband.
Law’s golden eyes were wide, frozen, large, salty tears streaming silently down his cheeks.  His chin was quivering as he gazed over you.  His three girls.
His girls.  He had two daughters.
Your husband huffed out a laugh that sounded more like a weary sob as he moved closer to you, stroking your head with his hand as he gazed warmly over the two tiny bodies on your chest, making their first contact with their mother.  He wiped his eyes clumsily with the sleeve of his white coat, inhaling a gross-sounding sniffle through his nose.
“I’m sorry I’m crying…” he blubbered.
“Don’t be…” you replied, your own tears welling in your eyes.  “You’re finally a daddy.  I’m happy you’re crying.”  You quietly laughed as Law reached forward with his hand, wiping your tears away from your cheeks, followed by another tender kiss against your jaw.
A nurse quickly stopped by your bedside, slipping small white cotton hats onto the tiny noggins of your daughters before leaving the four of you alone for a few more moments.  The skin-to-skin time was crucial for their attachment to you, and once that was established, they’d be able to go into the NICU for their extra care.
Both of the girls, despite being only around 35 weeks, had near-full heads of hair.  It made you wonder what they would have looked like being born at full-term.  The one over your left breast had tiny black curls that still stuck to her head.  The one over your right breast had thinner, straighter wisps of a lighter brown color.  They’d come into their own in a few more months as they grew, but even just from first looks, they were both clearly their father’s daughters.
The minutes following the birth were quite nasty if one were to ask you.  Law thought they were an interesting few moments, but you weren’t listening to him.  He was biased.  And frankly, you hated the way it felt when two placentas ejected themselves from your body.  It was like having another two babies but slimier and worse.
Your epidural was removed and you were cleaned up and helped into a cotton gown to rest in.  Your legs were weak from your long labor, but you were rewarded with some light food that didn’t taste like hospital sludge.  The third best piece of news you received was that, by some miracle, you didn’t tear a bit, and your uterus had completely and successfully done its job.
Finally.
You passed out very soon after your placentas were delivered, exhausted and completely spent after delivering two babies.
Law took the opportunity to retreat to the NICU and oversee his daughters as they were hooked up to breathing tubes and heart monitors to ensure that their good conditions remained that way.  They had their hand prints and foot prints taken by gentle nurses who were cooing over how cute they were, a sight that brought a smile to Law’s eyes.
“Dr. Trafalgar,” the voice of the doctor who oversaw your delivery shook him from his blissful state.  “Congratulations.”
“Dr. Linlin,” he replied as he turned to face her, shaking her hand.  “It’s good to see you.  Thank you for everything.”
“No need to thank me, dear,” she hummed.  “I’m a veteran of the motherhood game.  It’s all in a day’s work for me.  I’m so glad to see you happy and healthy, and with a wife even.  I remember the first day I met you, that skinny, scared looking post-grad doctor forced to speak in front of a huge crowd.”
Law groaned, rolling his eyes as the memory.  “One of the worst days of my life, for sure.”
The woman laughed, a hearty, bouncy chuckle.  She hadn’t changed a bit in the 20-some-odd years, probably even longer, that she had been a doctor.  “But look at you now.  A huge, monumental surgery, and now twins.  All in one day.”
“I’m going to sleep for centuries after all of this settles,” he added with a small smirk.  “After helping my wife, obviously.”
Dr. Linlin gave Law a hearty smack on his back, right in between his shoulders, making him lurch forward slightly.  “Your daughters will stay in the NICU for 24 hours for observation, and then they’ll be transferred to stay with the two of you in postpartum.  Let me know if you need anything, alright?  In a few hours, I’ll be back in your room to help you two sign the birth certificates.”
Law watched as the woman walked down the hall, her own bright pink doctor’s coat trailing behind her.  One of the only things Law knew about Linlin was the amount of kids she had.  It seemed like she popped out one every year, and yet she still had the time to be a labor and delivery doctor.  He shook his head, trying to ignore the logistics of it, before walking back to the postpartum room you had been transferred to.
You were awake and staring at the ceiling above you, your hands clasped around your belly.  You were still quite swollen, having been told that it would take a bit for your stomach to return to its pre-pregnant state, but you were already trying to come to terms with the fact that you would most likely never look exactly the same ever again.  Not after carrying and shoving out two humans.  When Law entered your quiet room, you smiled, all your anxieties melting away at the sight of your husband.
He wasted no time in crossing the space between you, leaning over you to plant a loving kiss against your lips.  All the emotions he had been holding in throughout the day, all the tension that arose during his mad dash through the hospital, and all the worries that the two of you had shared during your pregnancy struggles flooded between your exchange.  One of your hands traveled up to caress his cheek, your fingers trailing across his sideburns and into his slightly greasy black hair, pulling him ever closer to you.
“I’m happy you didn’t tear, or need anything else, really,” he whispered, pulling away from you.  “After everything you went through, you needed an easy birth.”
You grinned.  “I like to think our two other babies, somewhere out there in the universe, wanted it to be easy for us.  For once.”
Law pulled up a chair and sat beside you, leaning against your bed and dropping his head onto your shoulder.  You gently caressed your fingers through his hair in the way you knew he loved, watching with a fond smile as his eyes closed.
“What did they say about the NICU?” you asked, your voice tired and weary.
“24 hours.  Then they’ll be transferred here to stay with us.”  Law kissed your hand cheek.  “They’ll be eligible for discharge after they’re able to eat, stay warm, and breathe efficiently.”
“Speaking of which,” you stated, slowly moving yourself to sit up despite the aches in your bones.  “I pumped for the first time when you were looking at them.”
“How quick were you?” he asked with a joking tone.  “I didn’t think I was gone for that long.”
“It didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but I also didn’t need to give that much milk.  One of the nurses helped me, and they’ll be able to feed them in the NICU.  At some point in another hour or so, though, she told me I’ll have to visit them there so we can make sure they can latch on their own.”  One of your hands traveled up to painfully grab at one of your breasts.  “I’m already feeling so achy in my chest.  It’s gonna be a rough few months.”
Law grinned, dipping his head back down.  “But you’ll have help.  Don’t forget that.”
You hummed in response.  “You’re right.”
After a few extra moments of silence, you added.  “Names?”
“Hm?”
You chuckled.  “Names.  We have to name our girls.”
“Oh shit, you’re right,” Law muttered.  He had completely forgotten one of the most important parts of being a new parent.  “What were you thinking?”
“Cora and Rose,” you said, matter-of-factly.  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.  And now we know they’re both girls.”
Law smiled, a rare, genuine expression that reached his eyes.  A smile he only ever showed you.  “Cora and Rose… which one is which?”
“Rose is the one with those little black curls.  Cora is the one with the lighter hair,” you confirmed.
Another tender kiss was planted on your forehead.  “I couldn’t ask for anything better than that.”
You didn’t expect breastfeeding to be as euphoric as it was.  In less of an immense pleasure way, and more of a ‘holy crap, it feels like my breasts are losing 25 pounds’ kind of way.
Your girls were already so good.  Cora latched instantly, one of her tiny, weak hands curling slightly upward to grasp at your skin.  Both of them were still curled in a fetal position, and it would take them a bit longer to finally stretch out and look more like usual babies, but right now, they were the perfect size to swaddle and nestle into your skin.
The neonatal intensive care unit was a surprisingly colorful place.  You always imagined it would be rife with anxiety, desperation, and sadness, a bunch of little, sick babies fighting for their lives, but the second you and Law finally entered to see your daughters, all those expectations flew out the window.  Their corner was bright and colorful, with rainbows painting the walls and a fairly large window with a view of the surrounding city below.  It was pitch black out, just past midnight, but you imagined the daylight would flood the room with a warm, natural light.
Your daughters were already so warm, kept insulated by their little cotton swaddles they were bundled in, and their tiny beanie hats that covered their fragile heads.  The sight warmed your heart.
A breastfeeding specialist (which was a job you had no idea existed until then), helped situate you in a chair, accommodating your sore and spent body.  She assisted with adequately positioning your daughters, one for each nipple, and gave you tips on how to make sure they latch and stay on while nursing from you.
You had an additional blood test a few hours after the birth, when your girls were done with their first natural feed and were now sleeping calmly in their incubators.  It was looking like you’d be able to go home within the next 24 hours, if everything continued as normal.
While you were taking a light nap in the chair beside your daughters’ beds, Law used your phone to snap some pictures of Cora and Rose in their tiny beds side by side, smiling as he pulled up your text messages and sent them off to Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku.  He didn’t think they’d respond, with it being so late, but their messages rolled in almost instantly, bringing a fond smile to his face.
Ika-chan OMGOGMOGMGOMGOMGOGMOGMGOGMOMG
Ika-chan TWO LITTLE GIRLS
Ika-chan ARE THEY HEALTHY????????
Ika-chan ARE *YOU* HEALTHY?????????????
Shachiiii Still cant believe those things came out of you whatthefuck
Shachiiii Must have hurt like a mf
PenPen Shachi’s next to me sobbing his eyes out
PenPen I’m crying too.  But I’m stronger than him
PenPen Fuck no im not.  Im soaked over here.  
It was then that his pager beeped.  He forgot he still had it on him.  Technically, he was still on the clock.  He gently placed your phone on the small table beside you to not wake you up before reaching into his coat pocket and procuring his pager, stepping out into the hallway to not disturb his three sleeping beauties.
“This is Dr. Trafalgar,” he said into the small device.
Some slight static came through the speaker.  [Hey, this is Operation Triple Organ Replacement calling in from the OR!  How’s our best doctor doing?]
Law couldn’t fight the smile that formed on his lips.  “Before I answer, how was the rest of the procedure?”
Some small chuckles and a few mildly annoyed groans were heard.  [Patient did absolutely amazing.  He’s in recovery, stable, and is slowly being woken from anesthesia.  They’ll be able to take his intubation tube out in a few more hours, but that’s out of our hands.  Soooo…?]
Law felt relief fill his lungs.  A successful operation was everything he was hoping for, and now he felt he could finally rest easy.  “I have two daughters, Cora and Rose.  Everyone is happy, healthy, and resting.”
He needed to pull the pager away from his face as a cacophony of garbled cheering was heard.  A distorted [FUCK YEAH] echoed through the speaker.
“Are you guys still in the pre-op room?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
[Yeah, we’re all cleaned up and everything, but we were waiting for the right time to page you.  We’re abusing hospital equipment, we know, but this is CRUCIAL.]
Law couldn’t blame his team in the slightest.  It was past midnight on May 13th, and they had just completed the biggest surgical procedure of their lives, probably the most daunting surgery their hospital would ever see.  They deserved to rest and relax, and yet here they were, still in the pre-op theater, celebrating their lead doctor.  
The black-haired surgeon smiled, pressing down on the transmission button with his thumb.  “You guys go clean up, alright?  Treat yourselves.  Everyone did absolutely amazing today.”
[Copy that, Doctor.  Tell your wife we said congrats!]
Law slipped the pager back into his pocket before reentering the NICU room.  His stern, golden eyes softened instantly upon seeing you awake, leaning over the side of Rose’s bed and idly trailing your thumb softly over her chubby cheek.  Beside Rose, Cora’s arms were already outstretched far enough that she was almost encroaching on her sister’s space.  Soon enough, the small oxygen tubes taped to their fresh faces would be gently removed, and they’d be able to go home and sleep in their cribs, in your apartment.  Law leaned over you and kissed the crown of your head, rubbing his inked hand between your shoulder blades.
“Hey, baby?” he whispered, gazing down at you.
You leaned into his side, melting at his touch.  “Yeah?”
“I’m so proud of you.”
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beeslibrarycorner · 8 hours
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Hiii!! I see ur taking request for cooper Lmaoo I love Coop too!! Could you maybe write what cooper is like after reader and him have their first baby (a girl preferably) and maybe a few months after!! Thank youuuu, I’d prefer prewar but if you wanna do headcannon style you can do prewar cooper and a world where ghouls can yk have little ones, all up to you!!
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* Coop stays in the delivery room with you, he doesn’t care if that’s not what men of the time did. He wants to be in there to support you during this huge milestone.
* He sits right next to you and he doesn’t move, even when the doctors and nurses insist that the husband should not be in the room. He doesn’t budge.
* When the contractions start to get real bad he holds your hand talks you through them. He doesn’t care if it hurts with the way you’re squeezing his hand, he knows that’s this is his only purpose right now.
* When you do finally give birth, Cooper allows himself to breathe, your safe and the baby is safe too.
* Cooper is over the moon to find out that the baby is a girl. The doctors kept making comments about getting a son next time to cooper, he was not amused.
* When you finally get home from the hospital he’s there wherever you need him. He helps you with the healing process however he can.
* When the baby wakes up at night he’s there before you, he insists that you need the sleep.
* Cooper compared the first month of having his daughter home to being in the military (in a good way) he had time shifts to check in between his two special girls.
* Watching all the milestones is magical to him. Listening to her laugh and watching her sit up for the first time makes him so proud.
* Tummy time was not just a thing your daughter did. Cooper also participated during tummy time and he would play with the little blocks in front of your daughter.
* Cooper got a kick out of watching his daughter crawl around. Other parents would joke that once she learned to walk it would be the end of both your worlds. (Coop is not amused)
* Speaking of other parents, they kept making comments about how it’s a women’s job to care for the baby and it drives cooper up a wall. He’s always polite when he responds but he hates when people talk to him like he shouldn’t be in his daughter’s life as much as he is.
* When your daughter takes her first steps, cooper feels his heart stop beating for a second. The two of you are on the couch together while your daughter was crawling towards the coffee table. The two of you looked away from her for one second and when you both looked back she was standing with no support and waddling towards you.
* Cooper can’t wait to watch you grow up. He can’t wait to experience all the milestones and be the biggest support.
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The Injured List
Batter Up Chapter 4
Pairing: Baseball player Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Joel's just a baseball player and his back is killing him, good thing he has you to take care of him. Warnings: smut, Joel gets injured and can barely move, you masturbate and Joel watches, cum swallowing, you ride Joel's fingers. Words: 3,500
Masterlist Playlist
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“And I don’t know folks, doesn’t look good for Joel Miller,” the announcer intones, but his words disappear, all you can focus on is the image on your screen. Tears begin to stream down your face as you watch Joel writhe in pain on the dirt. This can’t be happening, you’re literally packing your bag for the flight home to Texas in a few hours. He has the All Star Game in two days, and right now he’s sitting on the ground shaking his head and grimacing as his manager , teammates and trainer surround him, their faces all shrouded in concern. The shirt you were folding drops out of your hand as you walk closer to the television, as if being next to the broadcast will change the outcome. 
“Come on baby, come on,” you chant to yourself, nervously bouncing in place. You have nobody to talk to about your worry, except the man currently being helped up off the field by his trainer and coach. He looks pissed as he hobbles to the cart, you swallow hard realizing how angry and destroyed he looks. There goes the All Star Game, there goes his swan song of returning back to his hometown and old home field during what should be his final year of playing. 
Your heart shatters for him, for you, for his career. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you still pack you bag. You text Joel that’s you’re leaving now. 
“What a shame. Miller’s out…” Your dad texts you later that night. Little does he know you’re reading his text as you take the elevator up to Miller’s apartment. 
The sound of Joel’s keys in the lock startles you out of your daze, you jump from the couch, hopping over the ottoman to meet him at the door. 
He looks haggard and tired.
“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, his face looking less defeated at the sight of you. “You didn’t have to come here, m’sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize. I wanted to be here,” you delicately wrap your arms around his neck, rising up on your tip toes and giving him a kiss before grabbing his bag from his hands. “I couldn’t not be.” 
It’s the first time you’ve been together in over two weeks, this is absolutely not the scenario you were expecting. Usually the first time you see each other after long stretches of time your first stop is the bedroom, both of you excited to touch each other and get all of your long distance frustrations out in bed. Tonight, it’s different, the first stop is the bedroom, but the only thing on your mind is taking care of him.
“I appreciate it baby, you’re too good.”
“I know I am. Now, come on, I got the bed all set up for you.”
——
“Well, I better get used to this damn room for the next week,” he grumbles limping into his room.
“Good thing I already have the next week off so I can keep you company.”
“You can still go home, ya’ know?” Joel plunks down on the edge of his bed. "Don't want you missing the game and your family on account of me."
“And leave my injured boyfriend all alone? What am I a monster?” You kneel down in front of him, unlacing his shoes and pulling each one off. 
“No, just feel bad you have to give up your vacation to take care of me,” his voice is soft as he grabs your chin and pets your cheek. 
“Listen,” you climb up his legs, placing your hands on his thighs, “I get a week of you stuck in bed, that’s better than a beachfront villa in Tahiti. Plus, I refuse to let a nurse or anyone else help you get undressed and bathe.” You untie the ties of his joggers. “Now, let’s get you in bed and I’ll take care of you.” 
You hold out your hands to help him stand, he takes them and rises with your assistance, grimacing as his back moves. 
“Should we ice it, or is the heating pad good for now?”
“Heat’s fine,” he croaks. 
“You alright?”
“I’m fine, just really fuckin’ hurts.” 
“Here, I’ll help with your clothes, do you want sleep shorts and a shirt?” 
“No, just a pair of underwear’s fine.”
“Right,” you turn and head for his closet to grab a new pair. 
“Hold up, just… I’ll get it.”
“Why?” You turn around, shrugging your shoulders. “You can hardly move.”
“Just, don’t do any digging, okay?”
“…..Okay, I’ll grab the first pair I see then,” you angle your eyebrows at him.
“Thank you.”
“Mmhmm,” you say as you turn and walk into his closet.
“Damnit.” You hear him groan from the other room as you open his underwear drawer. 
“Don’t do anything I can help you with!” You shout grabbing the top pair of boxer briefs fighting the urge to look through the drawer. 
Joel Miller is always cool, always put together. You don’t think there’s ever been a day that he’s looked pathetic, up until today and the sight that greets you when you walk out of his closet.
“This sucks,” he miserably huffs, standing by the bed, his pants halfway down his legs, the hem of his shirt rumpled up around his chest. 
“Oh baby,” you giggle. “See, how could I leave you in this state?” 
You kiss his cheek and bend down in front of him, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. “Step out,” you instruct, looking to find he’s staring down at you, his eyes hooded, the same look he gives you in bed. “Don’t get any ideas Mr. Miller you can hardly move.” 
“Could probably move enough.”
“Bullshit, it’s not happening tonight Joel,” you stand. “Trust me, I want it too, but it’s not happening. Now, let’s get your shirt taken care of. Can you raise your hands for me?”
He nods and raises his arms, trying to disguise his frown.
You lift the hem of his shirt gently rolling it up his chest while trying to ignore the fact that he’s now almost fully naked in front of you. 
“You know,” he says as you slowly roll his shirt up his head and outstretched arms. “Just because I’m out of commission doesn’t mean you have to be.” 
“Joel,” you breathe out placing his shirt on your shoulders. “Stop.”
“I missed you— ’n your body, if I can’t have it, at least lemme look at it.” 
“We’ll see,” you bite your bottom lip, the angel on your shoulder is telling you the best thing for him to do right now is rest and sleep, the devil on your shoulder that looks like your handsome boyfriend is telling you to let him watch you get off. “Hate to say this now, but I have to take your underwear off.” 
You kneel down in front of him, thinking how stupid you are that you’re now face level with his crotch… and he’s already half hard. 
“Fuck, this sucks,” he tips his head back exasperating as you grab his waistband and begin to pull his boxer briefs down. 
“I know it does,” you whisper your mouth beginning to salivate as you expose his half hard cock, it feels like you’re unwrapping a forbidden present, "but I’m here to take care of you baby.”
“You can’t call me baby,” he sighs, “when you’re... down there.” 
Joel’s underwear pools at his feet, you stare straight forward at his half hard cock, your mouth dropping open at the sight. 
“I’m also going through things too,” you whisper as you tap on his legs so he can step out of the fabric at his feet. “I gotta put your underwear on.” 
“Mm,” Joel lifts a leg as you pull his underwear up, your hands forced to feel the skin of his legs, the hair is soft against your touch. 
“Christ, can feel your breaths against me, you gotta stop,” he whines. 
You hold your breath as you pull the black fabric up over his crotch, finally hiding the temptation. 
You stand back up, focusing on getting Joel ready for bed, the stick of your soaked underwear against your skin getting harder to ignore. 
You spread the heating pad out on his side of the bed, bending over to plug it into the socket behind his bedside table.
“You look so good bent over like that, hate my goddamn back,” he bitterly mutters.
“Can’t stop you, can I?” You chuckle. “I’m just glad you were able to shower at the ballpark.”
“I’m not,” he huffs out sitting on the edge of his bed gingerly twisting and lifting his legs up, resting his back against the wall of pillows you’ve placed against the headboard. 
“You good?” You hand him the remote control and the heating pad controller.
“Yeah, m’fine, thanks.”
“Need anything?” 
“No, just want to feel you in bed with me.”
“I know, just have a few things to do first.”
You gather Joel’s dirty clothes in your hand, depositing them in the hamper inside his closet. Your eyes glance over at his underwear drawer, why does he want you out of it? You know it’s not a ring, it’s too early, he knows that. It could just be nothing at all… you let the wonder escape your brain with a shake of your head. No need to worry about it right now.
You take your clothes off, sighing internally at how wet your underwear is with your arousal. 
“Where’s the sleep shirt you’ve been keeping for me?” You peek out of his closet.
“It’s already in my suitcase on the floor.”
You nod. “Thanks.”
“You naked in there?” 
You roll your eyes at his question. “Yes.”
“Lemme see.” 
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you unzip his suitcase, finding the shirt folded right at the top, as if he couldn’t wait to give it to you as much as you couldn’t wait to receive it. 
“Please baby, it’s been a long fucking day and an even longer two weeks.” 
“Fine,” you walk out of his closet, the only piece of clothing is his shirt in your hands. Joel’s eyes darken as you walk over to the bed. “Happy?”
“Thank you,” his eyes roam your body. “Missed you pretty girl.”
“Missed you too,” you blush.
“Come lay next to me, it just hit me how little I’ve gotten to touch you.”
“I should probably get our phones from the living room, just in case."
“Please don’t, it’s all a bunch of texts and articles I don’t want to deal with right now, I just want to be with you right now.” 
The frustration in his voice makes you climb in bed and lay next to Joel, carefully placing your head on his chest. 
“This okay?”
“Of course it is. Wish I could wrap my arms around you and hold you close, fuck, you feel so good.” His hand comes up to your face, rubbing his thumb against your chin and lips. “God damnit, this really sucks.”
“I know, but I’m happy doing this too.” You grab his hand away from your face. “Can’t believe I never asked you, what does this mean?” You trace the three circles on Joel’s hand. 
“Had a bullseye board my dad used to use for hunting practice, would put it out in the field behind my house, my brother and I would spend hours trying to hit the ball off the tee and have it hit the target. Went ‘n got this the night after I won Rookie of the Year.”
“Cute,” you bring his hand up to kiss the tattoo. “I remember that banquet, I thought you were so hot. God, I thought that since I was eighteen maybe you’d talk to me because I was older. Ridiculous.”
“Dark blue dress, your hair was pulled back ’n you had a gold headband.”
You audibly gasp, dropping his hand out of yours, his palm thudding against his chest. 
“Yeah… yeah, that’s— wow, that’s what I was wearing.”
“I know, and I would’ve talked to you if your dad wasn’t the one signing my checks or holding my future in his hands. I remember talking to your mom, and you were right behind her, you looked so beautiful it was hard for me to pay attention to her.”
“I remember that, I loved listening to you talk. God, I can’t believe we’re here. Look at us now.”
“Look at us now,” his low chuckle vibrates against your head. “Speaking of looking, I’d really like to look at you.”
“You have been Joel.”
“No, I want to look at you, please, I’m gonna keep pulling the injured card, but let me watch you touch yourself.”
“Joel… I don’t think that’s doctor’s orders.” You want to touch yourself, you're so wet, just from being near him.
“Please, darling, it’ll make this day not totally suck.”
“Ugh, I can’t argue with that. Joel Miller wins again. Where do you want me?”
“At the foot in front of me, wanna see all of you.”
Your body thrums as you climb down his bed. You love how excited you are to touch your pussy for him, he adores your body, worships it. 
“Spread your legs for me, wide, want to see your pussy drool all over my sheets.” 
You sit up and face Joel, leaning back on an outstretched arm opening your thighs wide, your naked body lit by the soft glow of the lamp on Joel’s bedside table.
“Fuck baby girl, look at that, can see how wet you are, you’re absolutely fucking soaked.” 
You can see how his cock is hardening underneath his boxer briefs. It drives you even crazier. 
“Rub your pussy for me,” his eyes burn into yours, the timbre of his voice urging you forward.
Your hand snakes down your torso, dipping in between your folds, a moan leaves your lips feeling how wet you are, Joel groans as you begin to touch yourself. 
You do this all the time for him on FaceTime, but you’ve never done this in person, your leg draping over his, your arousal dripping onto his sheets. You love how you can see the way his eyebrows wrinkle as his big eyes dart from your eyes to your pussy and back. 
“That’s it baby, you look so fucking amazing.” 
You can’t believe your luck, both good and bad. Good luck that you’re close enough to watch Joel grow harder as he watches you fuck yourself. Bad luck that Joel can’t be the one fucking you. 
“Stick a finger in, lemme see it,” his hand dropping down to grip his bulge. “Not gonna do anything, pressure’s just helpin’ me.”
“You okay?” You ask, your finger paused at your entrance.
“Course I am sweetheart,” he smiles, “I’ll be just fine. This is good, real good. Stick it in for me.”
You raise your hips to meet your finger and begin pumping it in and out of you, your palm resting against your clit. You focus on Joel’s thick fingers forming around his sheathed hard cock, you stick another finger in to try to stretch yourself the way he stretches you.. It’s nothing compared to him.
“Greedy girl,” he growls, his fist tightening around his bulge. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Thank you for doing this for me.”
You want to give Joel a show, he deserves it. 
“Joel,” you whimper sticking a third finger in. “You always feel so good in me, love it when you fuck me.”
“Yeah?” He breathes. “Love how you squeeze me, you squeezin’ your fingers for me?” 
“Mmhmm,” you moan, your legs beginning to shake as you fuck yourself harder, your palm knocking against your clit. Your heavy breathing and the sound of your fingers shoving in and out of your hole growing louder and faster bringing yourself closer to your climax.
“That’s a good girl, missed you so much, missed that sweet pussy of yours. Can see you getting close, you close for me?” 
You nod as an idea pops into your head. You scoot yourself forward, your cunt now right in front of his free hand resting on his thigh. 
“Touch me, just, stick your fingers in, don’t move them, let me do the work?”
“Fuck. Yeah? Okay baby,” he sounds practically giddy at your suggestion. “How many?”
“Three, I need to feel you,” you order as you kneel on your knees hovering over his hand.
He nods, his face with a serious, determined expression as he sticks his fingers up for you. 
You lower your pussy on them. Fuck. His fingers are so fucking thick, opening your cunt even wider as you sit on them. Joel lets out a long, low groan as you bury his fingers inside of you. 
“Baby, oh god, you’re fucking soaked for me. Jesus, you feel so fucking silky and soft. Fuckin’ squeezing me so hard.”
You begin to rub circles around your clit, bringing your other hand to cup your breast as you begin to ride his hand. The feel of his skin against yours, the way his eyes bore into you as you slide your cunt up and down his thick digits, the guttural gasp he lets out as you squeeze his fingers tight chanting how much you wish his fingers were his cock edge you even closer.
His head thuds against the pillow as you grind harder against him, your wet dripping down against his knuckles. His hand still grips his cock, you place your hand on top of his, tracing the tattoo with a finger, the same circles you draw over your clit. He stares at his hand, his brows furrowing as he watches you trace the ink on his skin.
You move your hips on him as he stays still, he’s being so good to you, knowing you’ll worry about his back if he oversteps his boundaries. 
“Feel so good when you touch me,” he whispers, his hand clenching and unclenching around his length. “Just a fuckin’ finger on my hand and it’s driving me crazy.”
You love him so much, you know today has been hell for him, you’ll deal with that later, right now all you want to do is let him forget about everything using your naked body as a distraction.
You can feel your orgasm beginning to peak, your cunt clamping around his fingers. You’re close, so fucking close.
“Oh, babygirl, you’re going to cum aren’t you? Fuckin’ strangling me, wish it was my cock so bad. Let go for me, lemme feel it.”
It’s been so long since you’ve felt his touch and now your cunt is pulsing around his fingers.
“Fuck,” you stare open mouthed as you notice the dark spot on Joel’s underwear from his leaking cock. Your orgasm waves through you at sight, your slick gushing out soaking Joel’s fingers. You grab his cock and yank it out of his underwear as you rock through your climax, fuck your self imposed so-called “doctor’s orders” you want to touch him.
“Stay still, stay still,” you pant as you spread his precum all over his shaft, stroking him. 
His head nods ferociously, eyes widening as he bites his top lip, his hand curling into a fist resting atop his chest. 
“I know, I know,” you raise up off of his fingers, leaning forward to kiss him. “Cum for me Joel. Give me your cum,” you moan against his lips.
“Yes,” he chokes out.
“You’re being so good, laying so still, letting me do the work for you.” 
You stroke him faster, twisting the tip the way you know he likes it, he lets out a long groan, letting you know he’s there. You quickly clamber down the bed sealing your mouth over his cock. His body stays perfectly still, the only thing moving is his head nodding against the pillow and his cock throbbing as his seed shoots down your throat. You swallow all of it down, happy to be able to finally taste him.
“Thank you baby,” he whispers, “needed that. You’re so good to me.”
“You deserve it,” you smile wiping your mouth and pulling Joel’s underwear back up. “I know today wasn’t easy on you, but I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.” 
“I love you,” he sighs, his eyes already turning heavy with exhaustion.
“I love you too,” you lay down next to him, making sure to gently rest your head on his chest. 
“You’re so good at turning my bad days good. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
——
Joel falls asleep quickly. You sneak out of bed and softly pad out to the living room to grab your phones, remembering you need to set an alarm for his meds.
They sit on the coffee table, right where you left them.
Joel has too many missed texts. 
You have a few texts too, the most recent being from your mom.
Your stomach drops as you read it.
“Aren’t you flying in tonight? Why are you in Philadelphia? Please call.”
A/N: Hello, there is an awful lot of foreshadowing going on here.
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charliedawn · 2 days
Note
Can the slashers meet Eddie Gluskin? I am just curious you don’t have to if you do not want to. And have a good day or night😊
Warning: MY KNOWLEDGE OF EDDIE GLUSKIN IS ALMOST NONE EXISTENT AND THIS IS AN INTERPRETATION OF WHO I THINK HE IS. PLEASE. DON’T COME AT ME.
Eddie Gluskin AKA "The Groom"
- 46 years old
- Patient with OCD and post-traumatic disorder. Obsessed with finding himself a wife. Abused physically and mentally as a child.
- Very tall and muscular man, middle-aged, with a black slicked back disconnected undercut hairstyle which is neatly combed down and light blue eyes.
- Eddie's face is covered with red scabs, skin peelings and he has a severe case of subconjunctival hemorrhage in both eyes, the right more so than left.
Face claim for him: Cillian Murphy.
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VERY DANGEROUS. APPROACH WITH CARE.
Once you read his file, you frowned as you learned that Eddie Gluskin had been abused at a young age. You already felt bad for him. You knew that the first thing that man would need once entering St Louis was to have his personal space as patients with post-traumatic disorder needed to be handled with care—especially the first few days. Hence, you decided to keep his arrival a secret from the slashers at first, as to not frighten him. You were walking towards the entrance with General McCain and a couple of his men when you were made aware he had arrived.
"Be careful. He has already killed two guards in Mount Massive Asylum not a week ago. He is a tough guy."
You chuckled and shook your head.
"Don’t worry, James. I know how to handle tough guys…"
James nodded with a small smile on his face before he opened the door for you and you entered the room where a handful of policemen were waiting. They were surrounding a man who was chained down to the bench he was sitting on. The man was quiet and his eyes were facing down to the ground. You took a few steps forward before making your way through the policemen to reach the patient.
You stood before him.
"…Eddie Gluskin I presume ?"
The man remained silent for a while before he slowly raised his eyes to look at you.
"…"
He didn’t speak a word. He just started staring at you before you smiled and decided to introduce yourself.
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"Y/N L/N. But, you can call me Nurse Y/N. Pleasure to meet you." You extended your hand forward and Eddie Gluskin stared at it for a moment. You chuckled awkwardly as you realised he couldn’t really shake it as he was chained up.
"Oh. Right. Sorry about that. I—" You were cut short when you felt a pressure on your knuckles and your eyes widened as you realised that Eddie Gluskin had just kissed your hand.
He then looked up at you with a smile and finally replied.
"Pleasure shared…"
You blinked twice in astonishment before you quickly retreated your hand and Eddie simply smiled at you. Little did you know…You had just unintentionally became Eddie Gluskin’s next 'wife'.
———————————————————————
First time meeting the slashers:
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Freddy *appears wearing a wedding dress* : "Heard you were looking for a wife ?"
…What did you expect from the simp master himself ? Of course he would shoot his shot. Eddie is hot. In the way that he is tall, muscular and could rip Freddy to shreds…Of course Freddy would simp for him.
Eddie likes him, but only because he finds him amusing. Eddie chooses his wives upon various very strict criteria. Unfortunately, Freddy wouldn’t make the cut.
Freddy *looking at Author* : "Hey ! What’s that supposed to mean ?!"
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When Brahms met Eddie, they both did not really talk much. However, after Eddie spent a little more time around Brahms, he started finding his company enjoyable…
Let’s be honest here.
Brahms would be the perfect bride for Eddie. Brahms is sweet, attentive and touch-starved. So, Eddie would surely like him.
But, I think Eddie would also see him as a child so maybe he wouldn’t try anything, but they would hit it off pretty quickly as two very distinguished gentlemen.
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Alpha male standoff.
Eddie Gluskin is the same height and bulk as Michael, which means in Michael language: danger. Michael is like the daddy of the slashers. He protects them. So the first thing that would go through his head would be:
Should I be worried about that guy ?
And the answer is yes.
Eddie Gluskin also noticed the chain of power around St Louis and immediately noticed that all the slashers respected or didn’t mess with Michael. And you—his precious future wife—dared to spend a lot of time around Michael.
So, they wouldn’t really like each other.
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Pennywise once pranked him by pretending to be you and Eddie kissed him. Eddie genuinely thought it was you and was so happy…until he opened his eyes and saw it was Pennywise.
He punched Pennywise in the face so many times that it took 6 nurses to get him off Pennywise.
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Penny bit Eddie Gluskin’s arm because of what he did to his brother.
He liked the taste.
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Jason met Eddie Gluskin when he was tending to his frogs. He was in the garden near the pond when Eddie came and sat down next to him. They started spending time together and Eddie even started helping him with his frogs.
They became friends—which is quite a feat considering Jason’s trust issues.
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…Father Paul’s face after Eddie Gluskin came to him for the 11th time to ask him to officialise his marriage to you. (Give the poor man a break. 🤣)
Even though, A: You’re not aware of it.
B: Eddie Gluskin is mad.
And C: Father Paul is obviously no longer a priest.
But he still does it every time because A: He is bored, and B: Eddie doesn’t leave him alone unless he somehow convinces him that he would so…
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You're not the only one who asked me to do a part two of "Together Forever" so I'll oblige you right away. Sorry if I'm late... :(
You can't stop us
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Billy Hargrove x Reader
(PART 2 OF TOGETHER FOREVER. PART 1 -> HERE )
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After you finally arrived in California your dreams begin to come true, for both you and Billy, but the threats still lurk but you both were ready for any eventuality.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluff, angst, stalking, bad language, daddy issues, comfort, attempted murder, weapons, mention of blood, too much drama.
𝐀/𝐍: So, I admit that I received requests for a part 2 on "Together Forever" but I thought "Nah, I'll never be able to do a second part, in short the one shot ends here" but thinking about it I wanted to try and then I felt like I'm guilty of not wanting to satisfy you. And here it is, I hope I have made my way into your hearts and satisfied you as always, obviously let me know what you think! Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog. Hope you enjoy! (DIVIDER NOT MINE)
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In the middle of the road in the dark where the streetlights illuminated the path towards California, that evening even if you were happy you couldn't help but admit that you were nervous, both you and Billy were escaping from the city, from your home which in the end was never such, especially for your boyfriend. Billy was worried that when his father found out about his escape, would come looking for him, and when he came to get him he would face the wrath of a man who would have no qualms about beating his own son. But you reassured him, you told him that everything would be fine, you were prepared, you had it in your head that you would face and console any of his worries. Driving and looking at the road calmed him down and in fact during the journey you noticed his breathing becoming regular again. Before it was a mixture of many emotions that he didn't know how to handle, he still has to digest all this and you didn't expect it to happen right away.
During the journey Billy admired the rain beating on the glass and the street lights, while you fell into a deep sleep. Needless to say, Billy took the opportunity to admire your face those times he had to stop at a traffic light. You arrived at your destination after a couple of hours. You had suggested to Billy that you stop in front of a hotel where you would spend most of your time, at least until you found a house. The money you had set aside for this occasion was enough for your plans. You told Billy about a house by the sea and he went crazy at the idea. He would wait though, you wanted to take it slow and your boyfriend shared your thoughts.
"How do you feel?" You asked him as soon as the two of you entered your room. The lady at the counter didn't pay attention to the time and that's why she didn't say anything and left you the room keys. Billy looked impressed and still slightly agitated.
"Strange..." he admitted catching a glimpse of his smirk. Until two years ago, he didn't think he'd set foot in California again, but there he is. In a hotel room in California.
"I feel strange too. Change has an indescribable taste" as scary as change may seem you knew it was just a matter of habit.
"Yeah..." your boyfriend seemed really speechless, he watched you for a moment and you both burst into joyful laughter. You gave him a kiss and then took a good look at his emerald green eyes.
"Now let's go to sleep, it's late" Billy hugged you sighing.
"Do you think we'll make it?" You placed a candid kiss on his neck.
"Yes, we'll always do it, babe" you cheered him up. You both then went to sleep sleepy but happy to have taken the first step. The rain continued to fall and this was the soundtrack that resonated in that evening full of emotions.
You and Billy stayed at that hotel for a couple of weeks. Billy found a job as a lifeguard again at a busy pool nearby, while you easily found a job as a nurse in a hospital in San Francisco. In fact, after three months spent at the hotel, together you moved right there, to San Francisco, to the house that overlooked the sea. Billy was truly happier than ever, you had never seen him like this, you were proud and satisfied to have finally made Billy Hargrove happy, the boy who was as popular as he was unhappy in his own life. However, you decided not to be heard from again, especially with Billy's family. You were still in contact with your parents and every now and then you would inform each other about what was going on in Hawkins.
Needless to say, the Hargorve family went nuts, called the police and reported Billy missing. Your boyfriend didn't care about this, he was fine with it, he wanted to stay there with you and hope that everything went well.
“I won't let that bastard find us, I assure you” He said as soon as you put the phone down.
“I understand babe, but in case he does we should be careful” The thought of Billy's father finding you terrified you. You were happy and intent on building a future together, thinking that someone would destroy your dreams alarmed you, especially if the person who destroyed them was the man who had ruined Billy's childhood.
“You know if your father finds us all hell will break loose” you walked closer to him. The night succumbed to what was your new home. Still not well organised. All you had was a mattress with blankets in the bedroom and a newly built kitchen thanks to your father who came to visit you. Luckily, your parents have always been by your side and they came to visit you, they met Billy, welcoming him with open arms and offered to buy you some furniture for the new house. Your boyfriend loved them. They were kind and thoughtful, they wanted the best for you and they promised him that they would do everything to please you. The only fear these encounters could spark was whether someone would follow them or somehow bring the Hargrove family to you.
Billy, wearing his white tank top let out a sigh and looked into your eyes.
"I can only imagine it. It will definitely kill us" you took his hand to reassure him in some way.
"But we would make sure he didn't do it. If one day he were to find us we would be ready for anything, okay?" He nodded and rested his forehead on yours.
“I'll leave it to your clever nurse mind” you laughed, he had really been obsessed since you got the job.
"Do you like the fact that I'm a nurse, Hargrove?" You teased him lightly and he admired your lips.
"Pretty much," he replied with that bad boy grin that accompanied him throughout his school years. You pulled him into a kiss, forgetting the discomfort that your problems caused you, you needed to leave them aside and think about yourselves for a moment.
It had now been almost a year since you and Billy decided to escape from Hawkins and the situation seemed to be improving. The house was well structured, now you no longer slept in a narrow mattress but in a real double bed. They were all satisfactions that you didn't think would come true. You worked a lot on the house together with your parents. Your father bought you the sofa for the living room as a gift and your mother bought you the television. You were happy with these unexpected gifts, especially when you looked at Billy's smug look in amazement. Speaking of the rest, you bought everything yourself. Home was no longer a problem! It was as you expected. Convenient and comfortable and will fully satisfy your needs. The fear that someone might find out about your escape had passed and your mother no longer reported news of Billy's disappearance. You thought that the police had most likely realized that Billy Hargrove had run away from home and therefore dropped the matter, and this heartened you.
Every now and then you stopped to gaze out over the California sea, not mentioning the fact that Billy had started surfing again when you came to the beach. Like a child, he kept jumping the two meter high wave and this almost made you cry. You wanted to know if his mother was proud of him now, if she had deigned to see him like this at least one last time before abandoning him to his cruel fate.
Now it had become a fixed appointment to come there every Friday to savor the beauty of the sea, too bad for you that today Billy had to work in the afternoon, so you decided to take a walk alone along the beach while the sound of the seagulls dragged you to the one it seemed to be an eternal peace. It was getting late and you went home with your sandals still dirty with sand. Your house wasn't that far away so you made the journey on foot. It wasn't dark, the days had gotten longer but the feeling of being chased began to pervade your mind. You turned around and a hooded man was two meters away from you. You didn't want to give it any weight, maybe you were wrong. However, anxiety began to boil in your blood when the man continued to be behind you. You were alone on that sidewalk in a street where there wasn't a living soul.
Out of fear you started running and the man behind you shouted the worst things at you: insults of all kinds, insults against your family and more. You didn't know this person but you were hoping to somehow outshine him. You arrived home in a panic, quickly opened the front door and locked yourself in and started crying. While he chased you you didn't scream or cry for help and you didn't know why. You gave in as soon as you entered the house. Billy came down upon hearing the commotion and as soon as he saw you collapsed in front of the front door crying he immediately headed to you.
"What happened?" He asked worriedly still wearing his red lifeguard uniform, apparently he had just returned. You sobbed but tried to collect yourself. You immediately threw yourself into his arms still with the ongoing shock.
"He chased me. I-I don't know this man but he chased me and yelled at me" you explained trying not to stutter. Your boyfriend hugged you, replying that everything will be fine and to describe the man.
“I didn't get a good look at his face, he had a hood on and his head was bowed as he walked” You answered him and he nodded and that idea immediately crossed your mind “What if your father found us?” Your boyfriend turned pale at the thought and immediately checked out the windows. Meanwhile you calmed down and your tears stopped.
"There's no one outside" he began and in the meantime you wiped those dried tears on your face.
Billy approached you "Everything will be fine, if that dickhead dares to show up he will find us ready to welcome him" He smiled at you and for a moment you stopped to look at him.
In all this time you hadn't actually thought about what if his father would find you. You always wanted to believe that one day it would never happen and that you were most likely just putting on too much air, but instead he was there chasing you and spitting all his arrogant phrases at you. Billy, however, did not lose hope, he was determined and hid a grudge, the one he held back for years. You stood up and silence fell. The sunset was splendid but the tension didn't let you enjoy the view you would have liked to admire at the sea.
Suddenly two clear shots shattered the living room windows and you let out a scream.
"Billy!" A man yelled outside your house "I know you're there, you and that bitch of yours, come out!" Furious as if you had unleashed the wrath of a divine god, he continued to fire undaunted until he reloaded.
"Go away!" The son answered from the broken window, he couldn't go out, it would have been too dangerous, you immediately ran to the phone calling the police.
"Don't you dare to give me order!" Another shot, but this time towards the boy who luckily had dodged the shot.
“I said: go away!” He repeated as his eyes became teary. He wanted to give in but was refusing to. You stood there watching him fearing for his life which was currently more at risk than yours.
The police told you they would be there soon and you jumped down when you heard another shot.
"Babe be careful!" You warned him.
"Come on Billy! Be a sissy, be a limp dick, just like your mother" That was enough to trigger his anger. Your boyfriend walked out of the house and was confronted by his "beloved" father. You called him back scared but he just ignored you. In that instant you saw the worst version of Billy. You saw the pain that had ruined him, the violence he had suffered that made him aggressive and violent just by looking at him. You stood still in front of the front door staring at him, the gun of the man in front of him threatened him not to make another misstep. His gaze fixed on his father, as if he had no fear, but you knew all too well that Billy feared him more than anything.
The man started laughing "There he is! Billy Hargrove, the missing boy from Hawkins. Your mother was worried, you worried everyone, including your sister! For what? To have a fling with the first slut you found on the street" a punch she hit him "Don't you dare to call her that!" Billy said then punched him.
"You ruined my life!" He managed to say, but instead of wanting to vent with words he preferred to damage his face. You were mortified at the sight, but you skipped a beat as soon as you saw the man pointing the gun at the boy.
"Billy!" You screamed at the top of your lungs running towards him. A blow on his leg that made him scream out in pain. The man struggled to get up, but before letting him make one last move you thought of grabbing his sandaled sandals as you ran towards your bleeding boyfriend. You threw them at him and the sand hit him in the face, blinding him. He put his hands on his face, but pointed the gun forward and fired blindly. From behind you took the gun and threw him to the ground.
You turned to Billy who forcefully stood up with his leg hurting.
"Are you alright?" You said out of breath due to the adrenaline of the moment. He nodded. The sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance and the man on the ground opened one eye, taking in the sights.
"It's over, Father" Billy said the last word, marking it with seriousness, as if it were a threat.
“You are like me, and soon this girl will understand it too” He dared to say.
“He's not like you, he's the opposite and I won't let you ruin his life again” You allowed yourself to say.
The police arrived and with them also the ambulance after seeing an injured person. You had escaped a real danger, surely your mother would have pestered you with calls to find out about your health, but at the moment you didn't want to think about it. Billy sat in the back of the ambulance while they stopped his bleeding by covering it with a bandage. You approached and together you saw the man being arrested. You still didn't know how he managed to find you, but one thing was certain: he hadn't succeeded in his aim. Your boyfriend looked at you.
"See? We did it" he said, you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"I would say so" He smiled at you.
"You saved my life Nurse Williams" You sat next to him.
"It's not true, I didn't do anything, I just got lucky" You didn't feel like a heroine, at all. You hadn't worried about whether this moment would come one day, so you just felt like a ignorant for putting your problems aside.
"Lucky or not, this is proof that no one can stop us. Luck or not" You rested your head on his shoulder.
He was absolutely right.
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rosewaterandivy · 3 days
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rack 'em up!
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Summary: in hustling, ya gotta keep the score real simple. count your money at the end of the game, and walk away.
Pairing: s.h. x fem! reader
WC: 1.6k
Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & pool shark steve
A/N: A continuation of our Modern Love series featuring Steve 🥰 Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜
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The first time you’d met Steve Harrington, you hadn’t been yourself. It was Halloween night and one of your best friends had somehow convinced you to go out with her to a local bar. You were in your Audrey Horne finest — pink sweater, plaid skirt, Mary Janes and all — while your bestie had settled for the Log Lady, classic Twin Peaks. 
Thighs sticking to the cracked vinyl seat, you nursed a beer only half-listening to your friend’s bitching about her grad school class. Sitting at the bar, you felt exposed. And sure, she was there and had been supportive throughout this ordeal. But still — it was the first time you’d been out since the break-up. 
Shaking your head, you tried to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts which were proving less than helpful. She quickly noticed your discomfort, she worried her lips and tried to get the bartender’s attention. “We can go if it’s too much babe,” she murmurs softly, “Or at least head up to Paschal’s where it won’t be as crowded.”
“No, this is fine,” you insist, taking a sip from your beer, condensation gathering on the glass. “I’m just getting used to it is all.”
She gives you a small smile, “Okay, but let me know when you want to bounce.”
The bar fills up rather quickly from there. The breaking of racks sounds out from the pool tables in loud cracks, quickly followed by loud whoops and hollers. The pair of you were occasionally jostled by patrons opening their tabs and ordering food or drinks. Coming to the end of your beer, you nod to her and she signals for the check. 
Someone slides in behind you, sending your pint glass tumbling to the bar top the remnants of lukewarm beer readily making its way toward your lap. You quickly stand to avoid the spill and back up.
Large, warm hands lightly grasp your arms, causing you to jump, “Oh shit,” he says, voice apologetic, “That was my bad, I’m so sorry!”
Turning in the stranger’s grasp, you catch Liz’s wide-eyed gaze, “No harm, no foul,” you insist, “Quick reflexes and all.”
The sight of him makes you want to drop dead. A furrow in his brow and lip worried between his teeth — too handsome for his own good.
“Let me make it up to you.” His thumbs graze over the fabric of your sweater as you nod. He turns to the bartender and leans over the bar top to say, “Hey man, can I get two IPAs, a stout, and whatever else the lady would like?”
He glances back to you, waiting. 
“She had a saison!” Your friend helpfully pipes up from behind you. 
“Thanks,” he smiles at her, “Can I get you anything?”
She flushes under his attention and places her order before pulling you to the side out of earshot. Her eyes gleam in mischief when she says, “Ooh girl, he is fine.”
You can’t argue, he is objectively attractive. All coiffed hair and tan limbs, definitely out of your league. Involuntarily, you curl in on yourself.
“Hey,” she scolds, “Don’t do that.”
As if she could read your thoughts.
“Yeah, under Harrington man. Thanks!” 
Schooling your expression into a semblance of cool, you smile when he leans back hands you the drink, your fingers brushing briefly. 
“I am really sorry about that, by the way.” He says, eyes clouding over with worry. “Hope it didn’t ruin your night.”
“Not at all,” you say after taking a sip, “We were about to head out anyway.”
She elbows you something fierce and narrows her eyes.
“What she means to say, is that we were about to head upstairs.” 
The stranger nods, “That’s cool.” 
It’s only then that you notice the three other beers in his hands in a triangle formation, condensation growing steadily on each glass. You meet his gaze, “D’you need help with those?”
When he smiles, it’s slow and saccharine. “Don’t worry about it, honey.” He nods toward the pool tables, “But you can come along, if you’d like?”
Your best friend all but yanks your arm out as he walks toward a group of people surrounding the pool table. He hands the respective drinks to the man and woman arguing over stripes and solids. 
“I broke, so I get to call Rob!” The man with long hair pulled up into a bun insists. “It’s like, common courtesy.”
The woman, Rob, takes a brief sip of her beer, top lip coming away covered in foam. “But polite society dictates that you should offer the choice to me, Eddie.”
Eddie rolls his eyes before noticing the new additions to the group. “Harrington,” he says with a smile, “Care to introduce us?”
The man’s eyebrows raise, “Oh, um,” he begins before faltering. “This is—“
Your bestie swiftly butts in to introduce you both. “Nearly ruined her night,” she jokes, “Beer stained skirt is a sure-fire ticket home.”
Eddie laughs along with her and turns back to the game of pool. “Whaddya think then?” His eyes meet yours, “Solids or stripes?”
Robin scoffs indignantly and chalks her pool cue. 
His attention catches you off-guard, “Oh, um,” you echo Harrington, “Stipes, I guess?”
Eddie smiles and leans down to take his shot, “Excellent choice.” He sinks two stripes in the corner pocket and rises lazily to sip his beer.
Your friend, meanwhile, made herself scarce, socializing with Rob across the pool table. Harrington, first name unknown, eyed the game briefly.
“Take over for me?” 
He glances across the table and takes the outstretched cue. “Sure thing Rob.” He brushes past you with a cautionary hand to the small of your back, “Sorry.”
Your friend and Robin continue their conversation at a nearby high-top table, while Harrington lines up his shot. Left alone with your beer, Eddie makes his way to your side. “This game is about to become distinctly unfair,” he grouses.
“How so?”
“Steve’s a pool shark,” he shrugs, “Good thing Rob and I didn’t bet on this game, he’d take me to the cleaners.”
You laugh at that, “Well, considering that she abandoned the game, I think that makes any bets null and void.”
“Maybe so.”
You sip your beer, conversation with Eddie coming easily. “I could give him a run for his money,” You say off-handedly, “If you wanted to make it interesting.”
The cue ball cracks against the remnants form the rack, two solids falling into the side pocket. Eddie gives you a wicked smile, “That so, sweetheart?” He chuckles and takes a drink, “Bit of a hustler yourself?”
You shrug casually, “Had a shit dad,” you supply, “Learned a thing or two in the bars he frequented.”
“Fair enough,” he says before turning to Steve, “Harrington!”
Steve stops his perusal of the pool table. Eddie chalks up the cue and passes it to you. “Care to make this game a little more interesting?”
Bets are taken — 3 to 1 with odds in your favor; you had graciously elected to abstain from betting. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for your best friend. 
(“Oh my God, this is the greatest,” she crows, “The last time she played, she made a dude cry.”)
Steve, it had to be said, was indeed a shark; the game was evenly matched. Before long, a group had gathered around you to watch. Eddie kept the drinks coming while Robin insisted you both eat something. 
Steve lined up to take his turn; it was a long shot, “Eight ball, left corner pocket.”
As he leans over, his shirt rode up slightly along his back revealing tan skin and toned muscles. You feel yourself begin to get hot under the collar. Eddie thrusts a cold can of beer into your palm, “Steve, make yourself decent, for fuck’s sake.”
He blushes at that, shot falling just shy of his call. The eight ball rolling to a stop on the precipice of the pocket. You let out a low whistle, holding the can against your forehead for relief. 
“Wouldn’t be taking it easy on the lady, would you Harrington?”
Hazel eyes meet yours for a brief moment. He winks at you as you open the can to take a sip. “Not at all, Ed.”
You sip slowly, the cool beer alleviating your parched throat. Swallowing, you wipe a hand across your mouth and set the can aside. “That’s a shame,” you say approaching the table with a sway in your hips. “Get ready to pay up, pretty boy.”
Eddie cackles at that, Robin and your bestie howling in laughter. The patrons watching the game unfold let out whoops and whistles. It would be easy enough to simply tap the eight ball in the corner pocket, ending the game handedly. 
You instead opt to ricochet the cue ball along the sideboards with enough force to propel it into the corner pocket with an audible crack. A wave of cheers erupts around you as Steve’s head dramatically drops in defeat. Eddie, Robin, and your friend bumrush and crowd you against the pool table. 
“To the victor, go the spoils!” Robin hollers, turning you toward Steve.
You extend your hand, palm outstretched awaiting the payout. “Cough it up, pretty boy.”
With a huff, he digs his wallet from his back pocket and counts out the twenties. His fingers are warm against yours, you give him a small smile. “No hard feelings?”
He smiles in return, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Clasping the bills in your hand, you eye him up and down. Insecurity and shyness from earlier in the night alleviated from the progression of beers over the evening. “Tell you what,” you say, scrambling for a pen and paper, “If you ever feel like getting your ass handed to you again,” you jot down your number, “I’m available.”
He takes the scrap of paper from you with a slow smile, “Good to know.”
And if someone airdrops you a new contact before you leave, then so much the better.
Pretty Boy Steve: soooo, rematch?
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tkthrilla-writes · 1 day
Text
OOK OK OK SO I know I have been away for a VERY LONG TIME.
Basically i had to move apartments... TWICE
Started my thesis
And struggled a bit with my work
BUT
I am on a trip and Lord knows I got some ideas while on it!!!!!!!
Imagine being on a work trip and taking an 8 hour long car drive and not being able to do anything but listen to other people fighting over directions and listening to bad modern music. You would just be sitting in the backseat all nice and calm, meanwhile Alastor would be absolutely infuriated with the lack of coordination some people had and the disgusting and obscenely sexual songs. This man is being driven up the walls!!!!!
Cue this man messing with the radio to piss people off more. Making it glitch, randomly turning it off - but since people depended on it for the damned gps he left that part alone since he didn't want to endanger his host and himself to some moron on the wheel driving into a tree or something.
Then came the Spotify queueing playlist rounds. Whenever it was your turn to pick what songs that should be playing you tried to play something that Alastor would enjoy because you could feel his presence becoming more irritated by the second and mixing in more of your songs so that people don't stay skipping your songs.
Most of your selected Alastor specific songs did satisfy him.... But let's just say a few of your songs hit a little WAAAAAAY TOO close to home for him and his current predicament with his host.
Now you finally arrived at your destination, people settle in. and of course you end up getting a room that you have to share with two other people and of course you get the top bunk bed that is absolutely hard to get on because the ladder is right under squished attic ceiling that makes you have to crawl and gymnastics your way up to even sleep.
Alastor was definitely not happy in the few moments that he took over and had to do that. He ended up making you both look like a spider monkey with broken legs failing at crawling.... Which did make a couple people laugh at you ..... He refused to come out and try to enjoy the trip after that.
But then came the day time when you would all go out to do activities. Which mostly consisted of hiking and exploring museums so he was very happy to know you would be keeping up your physical activities despite being away from home while still broadening your horizons and educating yourself on history and art.
Then came that ecursed night half way into the trip. You decided to try going out to a bar/night club. And of course you dress the most decently out of everyone else. And of course you attracted the most attention while out on the dance floor. And of course this nearly mad Alastor reach a breaking point, barely holding it back long enough for you to reject other people's advances. And of course it was about to break for a split second when one of the people you are on a trip with decided to start flirting with you and try to drunkenly seduce you.
Timeskip to the next day and everybody is tense..... Only thing that was audible during breakfast aside from people eating was the very obvious feedback coming out of the stereo coupled with the music. Once breakfast was done people silently shuffled and started to clean up, slowly slowly starting chatter on what was going to be done throughout the day.
Some people wanted to stay in and nurse their hangover from the night before, some wanted to go out to another hike. You feeling sore from all the walking AAANDD trying to get some peace and quiet from people, opted to stay in and just have an easy day - besides there were 3 days left on this trip you can afford a day if resting. Plus you had a feeling that Alastor just wanted to be around less people despite you having a good time so far.
So here you are just in the bathroom, having your own privacy. You put on a playlist that obviously focused mostly on your songs.
The shower was heavenly after a night out at a sticky and sweat bar with Constant Craving in the background. A nice hair scrub to Soulmate Died. A great rinse to Older. And one must not forget the Jam session to the epic Every Breath You Take. Lastly there was that nice face cleaning to Let the World Burn.
And that was when the Radio Demon snapped
A chain around your neck appeared, and with a forceful tug, your nose was up touching the mirror, with your breath fogging it up. Heart rate spiking from the shock. Senses becoming heightened at the figure in the mirror.
All you could see was a shadow.... Alastor's shadow.... With his face directly Infront of yours. Eyes both holding radio dials, smile becoming tight and stretched with stitches on the corners of his mouth as if to try to hold back his face from splitting apart, sharp yellow teeth becoming heightened from the harsh green glow of the chain that seemed to look like it was going right into the mirror. As if holding up a failed attempt to hold himself back, his teeth started to chatter from whatever he was trying not to do.
"You really do not understand what you are doing?" he said, grinding his teeth as his mouth stretched quite literally ear to ear, showing off his teeth.
"I don't know what you are talking about," you said calmly despite your heart beating a million miles in a minute, making the blood rush in your ears nearly the only thing you can hear.
"I could kill you right here, right where you stand."
"And I would still be happy."
"I could snuff out that pretty little life of yours."
"And then I will breath again in my next one."
"I can drag you down to the deepest depths of hell."
"But I will be able in heaven when I'm with you."
A beat if silence
"You really know how to make a man struggle with his inner mist desires Mon Ange....." his smiled started to thin, reaching a small point where blood started to drip out of his mouth, following his jaw line, to drip down. Somehow landing on the sink tap below the mirror.
"Now thats not on me," you say with a slight chuckle, "sounds like a you kind of problem." You taunted, using the sink to lift you up further to place and rest your forehead right where his would be on the mirror. The mirror fogging up with your breath and staining coming in contact with your bare skin.
"You should know by now," he started, you could feel him reciprocating your actions through the mirror, his face coming closer to yours, "that my problem," he lifts his hand up to rest on the mirror, "is your problem too," he ends with you raising your hand to match where his is on the mirror. It was almost like you were holding his hand, the closest form of contact you probably ever come into with eachother.
Till obviously someone outside the bathroom has to ruin the mood with a loud bang on the door "ARE YOU DONE FUCKING YOURSELF IN THERE!!! I REALLY NEED A SHOWER!"
And in an instant "Please let me kill them."
"No Ali." You said calmly used to his shenanigans, leaving the mirror in favour of getting dressed, the chain disappearing the moment you pull away.
Finally came the day to leave, much to your sadness because you were enjoying yourself and really needed the break, and much to Alastor's pleasure because he really despised the company at present.
As a form of self entertainment, when it was your turn to drive in the ungodly hours of the morning and everyone was asleep in the car, he would take over your body so you could sleep and rest as well. A faint semi tight smile present on his face as he finally was able to put on music that he actually truly enjoyed. And when it was someone else's turn - particularly the other person in the car who had the audacity to get drunk and flirt with you - he made sure to scramble a few traffic cameras to view the car as a speeding vehicle so that person may or may not have a surprise ticket or two when they get home.
AND THATS IT EVERYBODY - NOW ALL OF YOU GO TO HORNY JAIL!
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cultrise · 5 months
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KENJAKU I’M FUCKING SORRY ??????? i’m starting to like this mf LOOK HOW GOOD MY POOKIE LOOKS. i need to fuck nurse suguru hello??????
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carefulfears · 8 months
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thinking about how sarah connor was a girl who worked in a diner and wanted to go to a late movie because her date ditched her and kissed her pet lizard on the mouth. in a deleted scene from the first film, she tells her time-traveling warrior that when this is all over, she wants to take him to disneyland. buy him a hot dog. "i want it to be over for you." when we see her again, 10 years later, she's strapped to a psych ward bed. she's screaming of the end times, how everyone is already dead, there is no future. she's snapping at her kid until he cries, because he wanted to help her.
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damiemontclair · 4 months
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Is it ridiculous to think maybe this whole hospital thing and related business has mildly traumatised me? Is it ridiculous that I want to write about it in excruciating detail, just get the experience out on paper, on my blog, somewhere? It feels dumb but I want to write fic about it. I think it'd fix me.
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nomaishuttle · 8 months
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the way i balance staying true to my tumblrina nature while also having a job and bills and rent is that at work while cleaning a room ill think of something id like to post and then repeat it over and over in my head and refine it until it sounds right and then i either post it as soon as i get a second to Or i forget it bc i think of anew post to make. and they always get 0 notes but its ok
#not a lot to post abt in a retirement home. its like yep this room is exactly the same as it was last week and the week before as well.#2day we mughtve had a missing resident idk. i also fink i saw her like 2 seconds b4 she went missing so im sure they found her#i was just sitting in the lunch room Seething and Coping ( iwas 40 minutes behind and had just found out i had an extra room on top of that#btw i didnt get out until 4:30. my shift ends at 330 but my ride leaves at 4 and due to The crisis my boss said i can stay clocked in until#4 so that i can do liberty and get overtime et cetera. whats hard is sometimes when i say et cetera i want you to read it as et cetera but#other times i want you to read it as E.T. cetera. but what can you do.#anyways where was i. right i was in the lunchroom oh also my ride didnt leave without me bc marians my bestie. anyways. i was in the break#room idk why i keep calling it the lunchroom im not a highschooler. its a breakroom we just sometimes eat lunch in there when im not outsid#or hiding in Closet <3333333333#aaaanyways what was i talking abt. a good thing abt desktop tumblr is that i can read through all the tags so far#mobile its like a whole debacle basically. idr how but its like. whatever ider what i was talking about hold on#oh right. so i was in the break room and there was a nurse in there and on the walkie (they all have walkies. brenda also has one) i heard#someone go Sooo 245 wasnt in her room and she wasnt in the cafeteria :worried: im gonna look around 2nd but keep an eye out..#and then like a minute later that nurse got up and quickly left idk if she got a different message bc i was listening to starstruck by sorr#and trying to figure out how expensive (indian restaurant) is. the answer is very ughhh i just wanted butter chicken and garlic naan and#rice and that wouldve been THIRTY DOLLARSSS :sobbed: it is very very good food though#i caint get it anyway my check hasnt come in. Tee be honest i might go ahead and order it anyway once my check does come in i rly rly want#butter chicken rn. if in being honest.#also the nurse was playing like a kids cooking channel youtube video rly loudly and the guy in it was obnoxious and i was having such a bad#day i was just sitting there hunched over in a corner forehead against the counter it was diree guys.#the way i made 'yeah i overheard on one of the nurses walkies that they couldnt find a resident for a couple minutes' into a 10 paragraph#debacle. this is what i mean when i say i have to be a tumblrina do you know how dire it would be if i had a social life and went outside#somebody would be like hey how has your day been! and id make it into a 15 hour long historical reenactment. lord
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yuridovewing · 6 months
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ok so the hollyleaf idea i got from last post... what if instead of being jaypoppy or ashwhite kits like ive been debating with myself over the past few weeks... dovewing and ivypool were hollywillow kits.
the PEAK of hypocrisy.
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variousqueerthings · 2 years
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the annoying thing is that Hawkeye is a relentless slut who goes for anything with legs at least once and the even more annoying thing is that I can 100% see how it works and I am also in love with him... bastard
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alliluyevas · 1 year
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my grandma always loved to read and when she was little and it was time for the weekly house cleaning (she grew up on a farm as the sixth of eleven children) she would read when she was supposed to be doing the laundry and throw the book into the laundry basket when she heard her mom or one of her siblings coming :’) my mom used to tell me this story because i used to always be reading in class or reading instead of doing my chores too. her dream was to be a nurse but she didn’t have the opportunity to go to school for it, though later in life she ended up working as a nurse’s aide. she always encouraged her kids to read and her favorite thing to read was history and historical fiction. when my mom was in high school she was going to apply to northwestern university but she didn’t think she would get in or be able to afford it, so she threw out her application. my grandma dug it out of the garbage and told her she could do it and she should mail it in. she got in and eventually became the first person in her family to graduate from college. she always really liked to hear me talk about my interests too. i’m going to miss her so much when she passes and i miss being able to have those conversations with her already.
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