#don’t ask me where he got bandages from | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writing-till-i-am-dead · 15 hours

Text

Stargoth oneshot - Ice Skating

“Seriously, Deacon?” Chase grumbled. “You just had to get close to the pony at the fair.”

Deacon glared at Chase before lifting up his bandaged arm, healing from being broken by an angry miniature pony. “Hey, remember! You can’t talk! I jinxed you earlier!”

“Ya, I think that cancelled out when you yelled my name out in pain a little over three times when that pony kicked you.”

Chase sighed and shook his head. “Guess I’ll be doing the work on my own for a bit until you heal up..”

Deacon sank into his bed, grumbling under his bed.

Chase looked over at Bronze. “Keep an eye on him?”

Bronze shrugged. “Got nothing better to do.”

Chase picked up Silver and smiled at her. “Ready for this?”

She smiled and did a curtsy. “Always!”

Chase reached for a random book, merely glancing at the title before inserting the key.

When he opened his eyes, he felt like he was in Christmas Town from The Nightmare Before Christmas.

He looked at his outfit. A skin tight blue suit with a fur collar, puffballs, and a mid length cape with a snowflake theme.

“Another great outfit, Silver!” he said happily. He took a step and nearly fell. That’s when he realized he’s also wearing ice skates and he’s on a frozen pond.

“Oh shoot. I haven’t ice skated in years..” He slapped his face and shook his head. “No matter! For I am Chase Hollow, and I can do anything!”

He attempted to glide over the ice, but instead face planted. That was when he heard skrrrrch coming his way. He looked up and really wish he hadn’t.

“Buddy,” he said bluntly.

“Did you seriously choose a story like this when you don’t even know how to ice skate?” Buddy asked, raising a smug eyebrow.

“I know how to skate! Just.. rusty!” he grumbled as he struggled to get to his feet.

“Mhm..”

Chase finally managed to get to his feet and looked at Buddy.

Ugh. One of the most frustrating things about hating this absolute tool is that Chase finds him extremely hot.

He can’t help it! Goth guys have always been his type!

And with Buddy’s low cut black shirt with navy trim and a black and white cloak barely covering his shoulders to show off the fishnet undershirt he was wearing underneath.. ya, Chase felt like his heart would burst out of his chest.

Whatever! The black snowflake tiara that he was wearing was lame and that’s all he decided to focus on.

“So,” Buddy started. “Where’s your little sidekick?”

“Huh?”

“You never seem to go into a story without him anymore.”

“He’s.. busy for a bit.”

“Busy? If you have the responsibility of being a key holder, you can’t afford to be busy.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Go outside and touch grass. Maybe that’ll make you less of a prick,” he said before turning and skating away.

The entire kingdom seemed to be on ice, all the villagers also wearing ice skates as they made their way around town.

Doesn’t that get exhausting, though? Chase wondered.

He looked around, wondering what he had to do to trigger the story.

That’s when he spotted it. A sign for The Royal Ice Skating Challenge.

“That seems plot important,” he murmured to himself as he skated closer to the sign to get a better look at it.

“In the Icicle Forest. Where’s that?” he thought. He looked around, hoping to find a road of some sort. But no. No land in sight. Not even a forest. Just. Ice. He felt like he was playing in a superflat Minecraft world right now.

“The prince!” Shouted one villager. “He’s here!”

Here we go… Chase thought as he mentally prepared himself to deal with another boring prince.

“Hello!” he said to the overly sparkly man (and Chase loves sparkles, but this guy was seriously overdoing it).

“Ah! Hello. You are a baker?” he asked, gesturing at what the heroine character must’ve been wearing.

“Yepppp. That’s me. Listen, I was wondering if I could join your ice skating challenge thing!”

“Oh! Why of c-!”

But he was cut off by Gothy McGothFace, who skated to the prince’s side.

“Really, sir? Are you really going to let a peasant join the challenge?”

“I.. well, why wouldn’t I, Iclyn?”

Iclyn? Chase thought. What an on the nose name. What, is my name something like Frosta?

“Frosta!” shouted a voice from behind him. “Come inside and help serve the customers!”

Chase groaned slightly and glared at ‘IcLyN’ before skating off to whoever was calling him.

“I gotta find out where that Ice Skating Competition will be..” he said quietly to himself. He saw the lady who called to him, who was shaking her head.

“Your father is getting tired of you always running off, Frosta.”

“Oh, um, sorry.. mom?” he guessed.

She sighed and ruffled his hair. “It’s all right. Just get to your station.”

He touched the spot she had ruffled, processing the motherly affection before forcing himself to snap out of it.

She’s not your real mom, Chase. He forced himself to think.

“Hey, mom. Where’s the Icicle Forest from here?”

“Now, Frosta, why would you need to know that?”

“Uh. Some competition.”

“The Royal Ice Skating Competition? Frosta, honey, why would you want to do that? You know there’s no possible way you can win.”

“What?! But mom-!” Chase had heard those words too many times. ‘Chase, you are never going to be a singer. Give up.’ The only person who believed in him 100% was.. his mom.

“No, mom. I will win! And I’ll prove it to you when I bring home the trophy.”

“Trophy? The prize is a tiara.”

“Um.. I’ll bring home the tiara!”

She sucked in her lips for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows before sighing. “But Frosta. Your skating is.. mediocre at best.”

Even though he wasn’t really Frosta and this wasn’t really his mom, he had to admit, that stung.

“Yknow what? I don’t need you! I’ll find the forest on my own!”

He turned and bolted out the door. He tried to slow down when he panicked at his speed, but had too much momentum and slammed into another house.

“Ow..”

“Ohhh,” said that annoyingly familiar voice. “That’s gotta sting.”

“You’re not as cool as you think you are.”

Buddy arched an eyebrow. “Pun not intended, I should hope?”

“No, pun absolutely intended. I’m no coward.”

“I..” he shook his head and pinched his brow. “Nevermind.”

Chase got back to his feet and brushed off his clothes, even if there was no dust to brush off.

“I just need to find where the Icicle Forest is and I’m all set.”

“Mhm. Well, good luck with that.”

“Hey, hey, hey!! Do you know where it is?”

He tilted his head and arched his eyebrow. “Why, I don’t know. Do I? I don’t have the Helper Key.”

“Ughhhh…”

He watched as Buddy skated off into the distance. He looked around the town for some sort of map.

“Do you know where I can find a map to the Icicle Forest?” he asked one villager.

“Oh Frosta, why would you need to get there?”

“Because I’m joining the competition.”

“Silly girl. You know you won’t win.”

That was basically every conversation he had when he asked for help.

People seriously treat me, er, her, pretty shitty.

He groaned and leaned against a building wall, sitting on the freezing ground. Just when he was about to give up hope, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Sweetie.”

He turned to the voice and saw a little old lady standing over him.

“Oh, uh-“

She sighed. “Your mother told me about your plan.”

He gave her a suspicious look. “You going to try and talk me out of it?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, no. I think it’s a great idea. But you should practice on your figure skating a bit more.”

He felt like letting out a long groan. “But the competition-!”

“Is tomorrow. You can spend all day and night practicing. Listen to grandma.”

“I… right. Sorry.. grandma.”

She helped him up and he looked around anxiously. “Where do I practice?”

“Anywhere, sweetie. The world is your rink.”

He thought about that for a moment. He was starting to realize how badly his ankles were hurting from skating this entire time. Geez, that hurts.. But he forced himself to ignore it.

He went to find a clear area, which wasn’t too hard. (Seriously, this place is so empty, it’s almost eerie)

He closed his eyes and tried to remember any figure skating he may have seen. But the only form of figure skating he’s ever seen was from Yuri On Ice.

He tried to lift his leg up as high as he could, but he felt like his back was going to snap.

He heard a laugh behind him and he whipped his head around, expecting to see that annoying fucker, but instead he saw the prince from earlier.

“You are.. quite bad,” he said, laughing.

Chase crossed his arms and glared at him. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

“No, I mean it in a playful way. Say, would you like some help?”

He gave him a confused look. “Why would you help me?”

“In all honesty.. I would rather have anyone win but Iclyn.”

“Really? Why?”

“She said is she wins she will make me her husband. I.. would rather not have that.”

“Oh. Oh! So, like, team up to make sure she loses?”

“That is what I was hoping for,” he said, nodding.

“Well, that benefits me too. So I’m in!”

Him and the prince shook hands.

The rest of that day, the prince helped Chase on forms and jumps and all that other stuff. He had to admit, this was probably the best prince he’s met, even if he was overly sparkly.

But Chase couldn’t help the feeling that someone was watching them. But everytime he looked around, he didn’t see anyone.

They practiced until it was pitch black outside, the moonlight reflecting on the ice, casting a faint silver glow.

“You’re amazing, Frosta,” the prince said. “I know you’ll do great tomorrow.”

Chase smiled at the praise. After a whole day of people beating him down, the compliments really helped lift his spirits.

“Thanks. I should be heading home now. To rest.”

“Yes. Have a good rest of your night.”

Chase waved goodbye as he skated off, smiling. That was actually really fun.

As he approached his house, he felt a figure loom over him.

He turned and just as he did, Buddy pinned him to the wall.

“What were you doing?”

“Hey! Let me go! I was just practicing my skating!”

“With the prince?”

“Ya! What, is that not part of the story?!”

“It.. is. But you were really enjoying yourself out there.”

“Ya, I wa- Wait. Were you spying on us?!”

“Of course I was. Nothing goes unseen,” he hissed.

“Ugh, you’re such a creep!” he exclaimed before shoving him away.

“Ugh. Whatever. I don’t care, anyways!”

He watched as Buddy skated away. Chase clenched his fists and huffed.

But you do care.. he thought.

Inside the house was a hard wood floor. Where they got the wood to even build these places was beyond Chase’s knowledge, but he didn’t thinking about it as he collapsed onto the floor, his feet and ankles swollen and sore.

So tired…

Before he even knew it, he found himself passed out on the floor, snoring away.

By the morning, he was woken up to a gentle shaking. He slowly opened his eyes and found the old lady from earlier waking him up.

“Frosta. Wake up. You need to prepare for the challenge.”

“Ughhh…” he sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling like absolute shit. His feet were still sore and his knees were shaky.

He sat up and rubbed his ankles and calves in an attempt to soothe the absolute pain, and to apologize to them for the fact that he’s about to put them through more torture.

He stood up reluctantly and the old lady handed him a slate of ice.

“It’s a map to the Icicle Forest. Stay safe, Frosta. I believe in you!”

He smiled at the encouragement. “Thanks. I’ll, uh.. I’ll see you when I win!”

He put on the ice skates and followed the map. There was nothing out in this field. The most interesting thing he’s managed to spot it is that there is an ocean. But no landmarks, which was weird.

Until he saw it in the distance.

A forest made of ice spikes jutting upwards, and instead of grass, there was huge, random patches of snow.

He entered the strange biome and looked around but seeing nothing specifically. But this place did cast some weird shadows.

“Now where in the forest is this competition..?”

He felt like he was wandering for hours. And then he looked up at the sky and realized he hadbeen wandering for hours.

“NOOO! Where AM I?!”

“Lost?” a voice purred behind him.

He turned and internally groaned. “Buddy.”

“Heh. Of course you would manage to get lost so easily.”

“Oh ya? And what are you doing here?”

“You were taking so long to arrive. I got curious. The competition starts in an hour, yknow?”

“Ya, I know,” he hissed. “Just lead me to there! Don’t you want to get this story over with too?”

Buddy thought for a moment. “I dunno. The ending to this story is rather unappealing to me.”

“What? You lose? That happens to you in every story.”

“It’s not just that I lose. There’s some more to it.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” he said, shaking his head. “Forget about it.”

Chase watches as Buddy seemed to glide over the ice like it was nothing. Like he was almost weightless.

“Cmon. Just lead the way, please.”

He narrows his eyes before shaking his head and sighing. “Fine. Follow me..”

Chase jumped a little, which nearly cost him his balance as he followed him.

“Man, this place is a lot colder than the village.”

“Yes, well, with an outfit like your’s, it’s no surprise you’re getting so cold so easily.”

“Hey! Your’s isn’t any better!”

“Well, I’m naturally cold, so I have nothing to worry about.”

“Tsk. Prick..” Chase grumbled.

He attempted to just ignore the cold, but the deeper and deeper they went in, the colder it got. Even Buddy seemed affected by it, as he was inching bit by bit closer to Chase, shivering slightly.

“Thought you were naturally cold, Mr. Emo Snowman,” Chase said sarcastically.

“Shut up. We’re almost there.”

“Geez, why did they pick the coldest area for this stupid contest? This is some bull!”

“Whining will get you no where.”

“Oh, it’ll get me somewhere, all right. It’ll get me right on your nerves.. I-I’m getting on your nerves, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Ughhh! You are so stupid..”

Chase glared at him and shoved him into the snow. “I don’t need your sour attitude! Or your insults!”

“Why you little-!”

But before Buddy had a chance to get up and shove him back, there was a loud sound of skates cutting along ice.

“You two!” said a man in knightly clothes. “Are you here for the skating contest?”

“Ummm… yes,” Chase said, quickly fixing his hair. “Yes we are!”

“Well, hurry along! It starts soon!”

Chase scrambled to follow after him, Buddy doing the same thing, shooting cold glares in Chase’s direction.

They reached an opening in the ‘forest’. Fairylights hug from icicle to icicle, illuminating the area with a glow bouncing off the ice.

Chase spotted the prince off in the distance and he smiled widely and waved over to him, Buddy glaring daggers into him and smacking Chase’s hand down.

“Ah-? Hey!”

But Buddy just rolled his eyes and skated away, as if he wasn’t being infuriating on purpose.

Chase went up to the prince.

“Are you ready, Frosta?”

“Born ready!”

“Thank you for working so hard on this. Truly. I am so scared I’d have to marry Iclyn.”

“Yaaa.. say, what is so bad about her, anyways?”

“She’s so possessive and clingy, despite the fact that we’re not even together. She’s aggressive to anyone who shows any interest in me. It’s all so annoying.”

“I see..” Weird. Buddy is also kinda like that..

He looked out at the opening, fresh ice, skaters preparing for their own routines.

“Are you ready, Frosta?”

“Ya!”

“Are you pumped?!”

“Ya!!”

He looked out at the opening again and saw Buddy going out. He’s about to do his routine.

I’m actually kind of curious..

He decided to watch intensely. And.. perhaps he felt himself getting a little too immersed in the dance as he watch Buddy dip low to the ice, spinning around as his dark hair flowed in the wind, sweat flying from his face and his sharp blue eyes hard with focusing.

And.. ya, he never got so excited by a figure skating leaping, but somehow Buddy managed to absolutely grab his full attention.

After the performance, Chase looked around, seeing if there was anyone who was absolutely hypnotized by the performance. But, instead, everyone looked bored.

“It was kind of a boring performance.”

“I’ve seen those same things but done much more interestingly.”

Chase was surprised by everyone’s remarks. Was he the oddball for being so into it? Or is the people being unimpressed just part of the story?

He looked at Buddy’s face and realized..

No.

Those reactions weren’t meant to be part of the story. Buddy’s face said it all. It was a mediocre performance by professional standards.

And Chase could see that Buddy was doing everything he could to suppress the anger. Chase.. knew what that was like. He was often met with the same reactions for his singing. He hated it too.. he hated it a lot..

As the two skated past each other, Chase paused. “Your performance was very impressive, Buddy.”

Buddy paused and clenched his fists before letting out a scoff-laugh. “Yes, thank you, Frosta,” he said back, almost bitterly.

Geez.. just trying to be nice..

Chase skated toward the center and waved out to the crowd. He prepared and struck a pose. He didn’t have a lot of time to create a whole routine. Do, instead he may or may not have.. stolen his.

Yes, that’s right. He, Chase Hollow, had to steal a routine from Yuri On Ice, performing Yuri’s Eros routine. He’s not proud to admit that he’s plagiarizing.

But still. He was having so much fun performing it. He looked over at Buddy while he was performing and he noticed him staring.. really intensely, which did make Chase nervous, causing the performance to get sloppy.

But once he was done, there was an eruption of applause and cheering.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you! I know, I’m amazing!”

He skated over to Buddy, smiling proudly and smugly.

“Was that performance.. from Yuri On Ice?”

“EH-!” He froze, standing there as he processed being called out.

“Weeb…” Buddy murmured before skating off.

…. WHAT A JERK! Wait a minute…

“HOW DID YOU RECOGNIZE WHAT IT WAS FROM UNLESS YOU KNOW THE ROUTINE FROM HEART AS WELL!?” he called out.

He could’ve sworn he saw Buddy’s ears turn red, but he just ignored him.

“Frosta!” he heard a voice yell out from behind him. “The judges announced you as the winner!”

“Really? Wait, but only me and Iclyn performed, was there no one else in the competition-?” he decided to just put it at ‘nevermind’, so stories can be weirdly short and very unspecific or muddy with the details.

The prince held up a gorgeous silver tiara and placed it onto his head.

“Frosta. You are.. fantastic. I’m so proud of you!” The prince blushed slightly.

There’s the rushed romantic feelings. Chase thought.

“I hope you continue to skate!”

“Hm? Well. Thanks. I’ll… do that. But for now, I gotta go show my mom this tiara that I won. She underestimated me and I’m going to rub it in her face.”

“Ah.. well. Have fun with that, Frosta..” he said awkwardly with a crooked smile.

He waved off to the prince. The trek through the forest wasn’t nearly as awful as it was last time, actually knowing where he was supposed to go now. Though, the cold had just hit him, causing him to shiver so hard he nearly lost balance on his skates.

He saw the village in the distance and he nearly burst into tears. His legs were in so much pain and he just wanted to sit down.

As he entered the town, the villagers looked out at him and smiled at him.

“Frosta! We heard about the competition!”

“We’re so proud of you!”

“We knew you could do it!”

Eh?!? You literally had 0 faith in me winning! Don’t you lie to me!

He spotted the bakery Frosta’s mom owned.

Time to go show off my prize! Haha!

But just before he opened the door, a hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him aside.

“You..” Buddy said darkly.

“Ah! Hey, what the hell-?!”

“I can’t let this final half of the story play out.”

“What are you talking about! Ugh, let me go!”

But then he noticed the look on Buddy’s face. Almost terrified.

“Buddy? Geez, why are you acting like this? Isn’t this just like every other fairytale ending? What, do I die or something?”

“No, it’s just..”

He was cut off by a blaring trumpet. They turn to see the prince and 2 knights skating into the village.

Frosta’s mom pokes her head out of the shop upon hearing the noise.

She spots Chase and gasps upon seeing the crown.

“Frosta?!”

“Oh, uh.. hey mom! TOLD YOU I’D WIN!!”

“Frosta!” called out the prince, gesturing for him to come forward.

Chase shot one final glare at Buddy before breaking away from him and heading to the prince, ready for this story to finally be over with.

“Hellllo prince,” Chase said, waving.

What happened next, he didn’t expect. The prince grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a hug.

“Woah, uh, personal space there, dude-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were my long lost fiancé?”

“….HUH?!”

Wait, I’m his what now!?

“Oh, uh, yknow, haha, just, I, um..”

“I can’t believe you had run away.”

“Oh, uhhhhhhhh…”

This is what I get for never reading the stories!!

“But I remember you told me we would reunite.” The prince grasped Chase’s face and pulled him into.. A KISS?!

“PLEGHHH! UGHH, DUDE! WHY?!”

“It was meant to be a.. a kiss to, yknow.. say hello again.”

“STILL! YOU DON’T JUST KISS SOMEONE WITHOUT PERMISSION! UGH! THAT WAS MY FIRST KISS!”

Behind Chase was a thudding noise.

He turns to see Buddy on his knees, sulking dramatically.

“Aw, and what’s up with you, mall goth?!?”

“The kiss was unavoidable,” he said, his voice strained.

“Hah?”

Buddy didn’t answer, instead pulling out his key.

“Hey, where are you going?!”

Buddy didn’t answer before disappearing.

I’ve never seen him react like that to.. anything!

He tightly closed his eyes to think about the matter at hand. He turned to the prince. “You!! At first I thought you were pretty bearable for a prince, but you had to ruin it with your overall lack of care for consent!”

“But, Frosta-“

“Oh, don’t FrOsTa me, you big creep!!”

Chase pulled out his key. “I think I’m done with this story, I’m going home!”

“Wait, but-!”

He didn’t hear what he had to say as he woke up in his bedroom.

“Ughhh… and here I thought that prince wasn’t too bad.”

“Oh, you’re back!” Deacon said, poking his head in. “How was it?”

“It was fine at first! But then the Prince got all grabby. And, honestly, so did Buddy.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, Buddy grabbed me and pinned me to a wall, like, twice. And he said he didn’t want the story to be complete. Like, huh?! Since when has he never wanted to properly finish a story?!”

“Ok.. and what did the prince do?”

“Well, after that whole thing with Buddy, the prince showed up and made me kiss him!”

“Oh ya. That’s how the story ends, to seal the deal of their marriage or whatever. Wait. Buddy didn’t want the story to end.. how did he react after the prince kissed you.”

“I dunno. He was sulking I think? He disappeared before I had a chance to talk to him.”

“….Uhuh…”

“What? What is it?”

Deacon sighed and shook his head. “You are so dense…”

Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#cinderella boy #cinderella boy webtoon #Chase hollow #buddy cinderella boy #Stargoth #Fanfic

19 notes · View notes

ahkylous · 3 months

Text

Imagine if Stan lost his arm the moment he was pushed into the portal. Like first his brother, his home universe, then his arm.

#don’t ask me where he got bandages from #my art #fanart #art #I have a werid obsession with chucking random members of the pines family through the portal #gravity falls #au #gravity falls au #reverse portal au #portal au #stan pines #stanley pines #gf stanley #gravity falls stanley #gravity falls stan #portal stan #mullet stan #mild gore

43 notes · View notes

irndad · 24 days

Text

a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.

“Have you called Maeve?”

She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?

He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with.

Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them.

“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.

“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”

“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”

She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks.

Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me.

She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response.

Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.

She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it.

Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office.

She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief.

She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share.

He does not want to call Maeve.

The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.

“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”

Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.

He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess.

He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.

“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”

“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”

“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“

“Then why-“

“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”

He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it.

She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now.

All the cards are in her hands.

Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this.

“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”

It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him.

“How could I not be? It’s you.”

It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up.

A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount.

“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“

He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable.

When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life.

“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”

He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back.

It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits.

She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back.

On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything.

He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

1K notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 6 months

Text

F.I.N.E || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x teacher!reader Summary: When your student gets injured and you can’t get hold of her parents you try call an old contact number hoping he can help. Warnings: slight angst, fluff WC: 3.4K

Max frowned at the unfamiliar number calling him. If it wasn’t for the fact it was a local number he would have ignored it but since few people had his personal number he decided to answer it. Immediately he was hit with the sound of high pitch cries and a soothing voice softly singing a lullaby that eased the knot of anxiety that had formed in an instant.

“Hello, is this Max?” you asked when you realised the dual tone had stopped and the call had been answered. You shifted the child carefully on your lap and grabbed the old enrolment form to see the name again. “Max Verstappen?”

“Maxy?” the girl in your arms echoed with confusion.

“Yes, who is this?”

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m one of Penelope’s teachers. There’s been an incident and I found your number under her emergency contact list.”

“Oh no, sorry, there must be a mistake. You should call her mother or father. I’m not, we’re not, um, I shouldn’t be on that list anymore.”

You cringed as another piercing cry deafened your ear and you rubbed the little girl's back. “It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know, sweetheart, someone will be here to get you shortly,” you replied softly and you hoped it was the truth. “Look, Max, I’ve tried every other contact number and no one is answering. Is there any way you could come down here? At least until I can get in touch with someone else.”

Max pinched the bridge of his nose but when he heard P’s shuddering cry he knew he had to go. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”

Max didn’t care if he got a parking ticket, he took the loading space right outside the preschool building. He likely would have gotten a speeding ticket too in his rush to cross the city but thankfully there weren’t any police in his path.

“Maxy!”

Penelope wriggled in your arms as she spotted the stranger walking into the classroom. His eyes immediately found her and he crossed the space to where you sat holding her.

“Hey, P,” he greeted with a smile and knelt down at your height. “What’s happened, bug?”

Her little eyes welled up again as she lifted her bandaged wrist. “I fell off the playground.”

“I don’t think anything is broken but I would suggest having her doctor check to be sure.”

“I don’t know who her doctor is. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re contact details were-”

“Those must have been from when she started. Her mother and I haven’t been together for a while.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry to put this on you. I swear I tried every other phone number we have.”

Max nodded and his sigh sounded exhausted as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute, bug.”

Max walked along the room, looking over the children’s artwork as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited. Eventually the call went to voicemail and his spine straightened tensely. “Kel, I’ve picked up P from daycare and I’m taking her to the hospital. Call me when you get this.”

You could see the man was stressed when he returned and his short hair pointed in all directions from the hand he kept nervously running through it. It was cute.

“Daniil is in Italy this week for work,” Max said as he returned to your side and picked up Penelope’s Prada backpack before opening his arms. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of Kelly. Come on, bug.”

Lunchtime was coming to an end and children were starting to file back into the room, a few of the older ones stopping at staring wide eyed at Max. He was tall but not that tall or formidable to draw such a reaction but your question was answered when one of the boys ran to his picture on the wall. Timothée unpinned the drawing of a race car and ran up to Max, holding it out with a pencil.

“Sir, can you please sign this?”

Max looked used to the attention and took the pen with a polite, “Sure.” He stared at the picture for the moment after signing it and chuckled. “Is the RB20?”

Timothée nodded eagerly. “It’s my favourite.”

“Mine too,” he said as handed the picture back and smiled as it was crushed happily to the boy's chest. Max then carefully picked up Penelope, slowly so she wasn’t jostled, and his arms brushed yours.

“If you need anything you have my number,” you reminded as the weight was lifted from your lap. “Children can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”

Max smiled fondly at Penelope and shook his head. “This isn’t new. I still have her room set up.”

“You do?” Penelope asked hopefully and Max turned his head as he cursed to himself. “Are we going to live with you again?”

“No, no, sorry, P,” he said softly. “I just haven’t had time to redecorate.”

“Oh.” You both winced at the defeated tone and you knew the fresh tears had nothing to do with her arm this time but you were saved by the bell as it spurred Max to toss the bag over his shoulder and look to the door.

“I hope you feel better soon, Penelope.”

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you,” Max echoed with a nod before departing.

All afternoon you were distracted with thoughts of the two of them until the final bell rang and you grabbed your phone. You had sporadically tried to contact Daniil and Kelly again but the calls went straight to voicemail every time and you found no returned calls.

Y/N: How is Penelope? Max: She is happy watching The Little Mermaid. She has a sprained wrist and the nurse complemented the bandaging so you should be proud. Y/N: And how are you? Max: I’m fine.

Max swore as the pot of water boiled over and he hissed as he grabbed the handle to find it was just as hot. He dropped his phone reaching for the teatowel and then P started calling out from the living room complaining that the movie was boring - the same movie she watched a thousand times and she had specifically asked for.

Y/N: My mentor used to tell me that stood for: freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Are you sure you are fine?

After turning the stove down to a simmer and wiping up the mess of water that had splashed across his floor he went and changed the movie to what would hopefully last longer than ten minutes before she changed her mind. Taking another attempt at making dinner, he grabbed a bag of pasta from his pantry and poured its entirety into the pot.

Max: I’m thinking I am definitely neurotic and possibly starting to freak out. Y/N: I couldn’t have that on my conscience. My offer still stands if you need some help. Max: You don’t have anyone you need to get home to? Y/N: My cat prefers his own company unless he’s hungry and he’s already been fed today so no. Max: I don’t want you to go out of your way. Y/N: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through. Let me help. Please?

Max smiled at his phone before sending his address and looking around to see how tidy the place was. His jacket was tossed on the table instead of being hung up and Penelope’s bag was spilled across the entryway floor, not the first impression he wanted to make.

You entered the port address into your phone and locked the classroom behind you, feeling a little unsteady at the thought of seeing Max again. Penelope was a sweet child and she seemed comfortable with Max but you hadn’t really ever heard her talk about him before. You told yourself the only reason you were going there was to check on your student's wellbeing, but a small part of you wanted to see Max again.

You wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard your knock on the door or that you had the wrong apartment and you rapped your knuckles on it again before he called out. There was a crash and then a groan close to the door before it swung open and Max balanced on one leg.

“Uh, is everything okay?” you asked as he clutched his foot.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he rushed before he caught the teasing curl of your brow and he froze before a smile grew on his lips. “Right, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”

“You’re a quick learner.” You stepped inside at his invitation and he closed the door behind you while you rushed towards the burning smell in the kitchen. “Oh, wow.”

“Fucksake,” Max grumbled as he grabbed a wet tea towel before reaching for the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “Ouch, shit!”

“You said a naughty word,” Penelope called out from the next room like it was something that she regularly commented on. “That's another 20.”

Max sighed heavily as he looked at a jar on the bench that was already filled with cash. “Shit.”

“I heard that.”

“Shouldn’t you be watching your movie?”

You giggled at the amusing conversation before turning the tap to cold and taking Max’s hand. “Wet towels and hot trays make steam.”

He watched you guide his hand under the water and flinched as it hit the burn mark on his palm. “I don’t usually cook, if you couldn’t tell.”

“The life of a bachelor. Keep your hand there.” You moved with ease around his kitchen trying to save what was left of dinner but paused at a huge pot of pasta that had swelled up and pushed the lid half off. “Are you expecting a dozen other people?”

Max shrugged innocently. “I didn’t know how much to put in.”

“Well the good news is the top half is edible,” you stated after finding a colander and draining the pasta until only a thick layer remained stuck to the bottom of the pot. “Do you have any sauce?”

“Sauce?”

“What were you going to have with it?”

“Garlic bread.” You both looked at the charred sticks still smoking on the baking tray.

“Do you mind?” you asked as you pointed to his fridge and the cupboards around the kitchen.

“No, please. Go ahead.”

You checked the fridge first and you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. “Do you live off salads or does all this go to waste?”

“Neither, my nutritionist comes by twice a week and he prepares the meals.”

For a moment you had forgotten his profession. You had googled his name after Timothée couldn’t stop talking about meeting the ‘Max Verstappen’. “That must be intense, and restricting. Does your social life suffer?”

“It’s not so bad. I still get to go out for dinner and have a few drinks when I want.” He started to pull his hand out from under the water but you tutted and caught his wrist, holding it back beneath the cold stream.

“Keep still,” you warned with a voice you saved for children who weren’t listening. “It needs 20 minutes under there.”

“You want me to stand here for twenty minutes?”

“No, science wants you to stay there for twenty minutes.”

“Are you a teacher or a nurse?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Depends if it's halloween.”

His loud laugh made you smile and you eased your grip on his hand one finger at a time to see if he would stay where he was. He did. “I’ll behave, Miss Y/L/N.”

“You can call me Y//N.”

“I kind of like calling you Miss Y/L/N.”

You checked to see if he was serious but thankfully there was a teasing smile on his face before you returned to the fridge to gather some ingredients.

By some small miracle dinner can’t have been too bad since everyone cleaned their plates of the pasta, though you thought they were likely being polite since you could still taste the hint of smoke from the bottom of the pan. Penelope had spent most of the meal asking Max if he remembered what they used to do when she lived there, how they used to go travelling and shopping. You got to see first hand how much patience the man had as he answered each question despite how it made him uncomfortable.

“You miss her,” you commented after she had gone back to the tv. Max started to collect the dishes with you and sighed as he placed them in the sink.

“It was a big change when they moved out,” he spoke quietly and you stepped closer so you could hear better. “She kept asking if she did something wrong.”

“That must have been hard for you.” His eyes widened and you wondered what shocked him, but you had a feeling it was the fact someone showed concern for him. Even though you didn’t know the details of the break up, it was clear he had and still did care for Penelope and you felt sorry for him. “Can I hug you? I’m a hugger and I feel like you could really do with one.”

“You want to hug me?”

You tried to shrug it off casually. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everyone needs a hug sometime.”

“I do,” he said quickly, very quickly, before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I-I wouldn’t mind a hug.”

You smiled at his tentativeness and stepped into his personal space, slipping your hands into the narrow openings between his limp arms and his body to curl around his waist. It took a moment for him to respond before his own arms embraced the comfort and curled around your back too.

“You smell really good, Max,” you complimented as you rested your head on his chest and caught the scent of his cologne.

“Thank you,” he chuckled, the amusement relaxing him even more until his entire body curved into yours. “I think you have playdough in your hair.”

You hummed in agreement. “Highly likely. You wouldn’t believe the places I find that stuff at the end of the day, glitter too.”

His bold laugh made you smile and you didn’t care it was at your own expense, you were just happy to know it was because of you. Unfortunately you didn’t have the chance to hear it again as his phone rang from the countertop and you saw Kelly’s name light up the screen.

“I should let you get that,” you said as you stepped back, instantly missing the warmth and his scent. “I’ll go keep Penelope company.”

Max waited for you to leave the kitchen before he accepted the call, his calm state evaporating in an instant. “What the hell, Kelly? Where have you been?”

“My phone was on flight mode, I was on a plane. Is P okay?”

“Her wrist is sprained but she’s alright now.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to breathe. “Why would you leave her alone?”

“She wasn’t alone. Maria was meant to pick her up after school and I should have been home in time for dinner but my flight was delayed.”

“Who is Maria?”

“Her nanny.”

Max had to suppress the groan at the news. He knew Daniil hated the idea of a nanny and he had offered to have more custody so that P would be raised by her parents and not a stranger, but Kelly had vetoed that idea.

“Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you.”

“No, we’ve already eaten.”

“Some other time then.”

Max made a non-committal sound, his eyes darting to the living room where he watched Penelope explain the movie to you. You were so attentive and patient, asking questions that had Penelope thinking deeper and using such a simple interaction as a learning opportunity. He could see why you suited being a teacher.

“Maybe,” he lied, “just let me know when you’re almost here and I’ll bring P out to you, I don’t want to confuse her any more.”

“Right, of course,” Kelly sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Max.”

Max made the most of the time he had left with P, abandoning the dishes so he could sit on the other side of her and watch the movie about a chef rat. She had cozied into his side with a yawn and nudged his arm until he eventually draped it over her shoulder. It was completely innocent but you couldn’t help noticing the heat of his hand touching your arm, the warmth spreading like wildfire.

The fire was doused when his phone vibrated and the moment to leave had come.

While he grabbed Penelope’s backpack, you grabbed your handbag and prepared your own goodbyes. It was silly to feel sad the evening had come to an end but you knew that you would likely never see Max again. You weren’t famous and he didn’t have children, your paths weren’t meant to cross.

“Have a good weekend, Penelope,” you said as you knelt down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”

“Bye, Miss Y/L/N.”

You rose to your feet wondering where you stood with Max until he opened his arms. “Anytime you need a hug, you have my number,” you offered as you stepped into his embrace, no matter how unlikely that prospect was.

“Or if I’m feeling fine?”

You giggled and nodded against his chest. “Especially if you’re feeling fine.”

The walk to the elevator was slow, as if no one wanted the strange evening to end, but there was no stopping time as it began making its way down from the penthouse to the ground floor. The doors opened and you instantly spotted Kelly in the reception area, her elegant and effortless beauty reminding you that you still had playdough in your hair.

With one last look at the man beside you, you gave him a small smile and stepped away. “Goodbye, Max.”

He didn’t respond as you headed to the valet area but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and yours vibrated a moment later.

Max: Are you okay?

Y/N: I’m fine.

Max: Me too. Emotional, you?

Y/N: Insecure.

Max: Want a hug?

You stopped and turned to see Max hand Penelope’s bag over before struggling to separate the girl from where she clung to his leg. She didn’t know, couldn’t see how it was hurting Max, but you could. So you waited, and when the mother and daughter had departed you stepped into the elevator with the subdued man, slipping your hand into his.

The elevator rose quickly and you watched Max’s throat bounce with the deep swallow he made before he choked out a broken, “Fuck.”

“I feel like I should remind you about the swear jar,” you teased as you bumped your shoulder gently against his arm. “But I’ll let you off this once because I have a soft spot for you.”

He looked down at you from the corner of his eye and you saw some of the sadness fading from them. “Does that make me the teacher's pet?”

You gasped dramatically and clutched your chest with your free hand. “I could never bestow such high praise after just one day.”

“What are your plans tomorrow then?” he asked with a smirk as the doors opened and he pulled his house key out of his pocket.

“I don’t have any.”

“Lovely, now are you going to answer my question?” He stepped inside the apartment and opened his arms. “Did you want a hug?”

Your smile chased away more of the shadows in his eyes and the last of it was erased when you stepped into his arms with an eager nod. “I will never say no to a hug.”

His chest bounced with a laugh and you felt him rest his cheek on your head with a contented sigh. “That is very good to know.”

#max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula one imagine

3K notes · View notes

boydepartment · 5 months

Note

hiii r u taking requests! if so can you do enhypen reaction where you call them in danger and they get super panicked

pick up- enhypen texts + scenarios

a/n: HI ANON! i am always taking requests :) i hope you like it!!!!!!

warnings- dangerous scenarios, one reader gets followed, another one burns her hand, they aren’t dark at all tho :) nothing triggering

MASTERLIST

jungwon-

you had called jungwon a few minutes ago while walking home and you felt the presence of someone else. it was unusual for you to be walking home late from a study session and other students did too. however your intuition was raising red flags.

- “y/n are you okay? are you safe?” jungwon was panicking, you could hear it in his voice. you knew if he could he would drive over at this moment.

- “i’m okay. i just made it back to my abode. i’m just really shaken up i’m sorry for scaring you and calling you when you were working.”

- “baby please don’t ever apologize, you were scared and i’m glad you come to me for stuff like this.” you heard rustling on his end as you safely locked your door behind you. jungwon spoke up again, “i’m coming over with snacks and stuff. i’ll be there in 15.”

heeseung-

you were home alone for the first time in years and heard people yelling loudly outside. usually your friend would be home with you but they were off with their family which left you by yourself. during the day you didn’t mind but at night it was different. when you peeked out your window the people were fighting and it scared you. leading you to call heeseung.

- “i’m on my way right now. why didn’t you tell me you were home alone?” heeseung got right to the point when you answered his call.

- “i’m sorry i didn’t think that it was important and i didn’t want you to get in trouble if you came over and-“

- “i don’t care about that. are the people still outside?” heeseung was rushing you could tell.

- “no….”

- “okay i am still on the way. stay on the phone for me pretty.”

jay-

your hand was on fire, quite literally for a few seconds. and pick up the phone when jay called you back. which led him to rushing over to your home and using his key. immediately he rushed over to you and put your hand under the kitchen sink water. your burns weren’t horrible but they were pretty bad. jay swiftly picked you up and sat you down on the counter so he could wrap your hand.

- “i’m sorry i called when you were with your mom….” you mumbled into his shoulder. you were panicking and that alone made you exhausted.

- “i’m not mad at all baby i promise. is the bandage too tight?”

- you shook your head no and places small kisses on the side of his neck. you were too tired and overwhelmed to thank him. he knew and just swiftly carried you to your room.

jake-

the first mistake your made was even going to this party. it was a stupid idea and you got roped in. so when the cops showed up and you scaled a wall, breaking your nail, scraping your knees, and falling into a rose bush , you immediately called jake.

- “okay where are you right now?” jake asked, you could hear his pants, jogging to your location on the life 360. he asked you to get it so he could see how close or far you two were always.

- “i’m now sitting next to the rose bu-“

- “ah i see you!” you saw jake jog up to you and kneel, “hop on. i’ll piggy back you to my dorm and we will get you all cleaned up okay?”

sunghoon-

normally you don’t call sunghoon without asking first. it was just a thing you both did. so when you called he was immediately concerned.

- “baby can you hear me ? are you okay?” sunghoon frantically asked when you picked up.

- “i’m okay…. i just got scared because there was a loud noise in the library i’m sorry i panicked. you’re away again and i got paranoid without you.” you whispered into the phone. sunghoon tried not to softly smile, he missed you so much.

- “im here princess. talk to me tell me about your day. please.”

sunoo-

your day was terrible. the week prior you and sunoo got caught getting coffee at 4am, and your face was covered thankfully, however, engenes are still sometimes crazy so you were paranoid. when you went to get groceries today, you had a couple of them go up to you and ask about your keychain. which was in the photo. obviously you played dumb but it was still scary.

- “they asked about your keychain? why don’t you take it off now?” sunoo asked, you were putting groceries away now.

- “you got it for me when you went to italy. i don’t want to take it off it reminds me of you.” you said and reached the top shelf.

- sunoo smiled to himself, “i’ll get you a new one. i’ll get you as many as you want.”

riki-

you and riki had gone out to a themepark. no one knew except staff and the other members, you wanted a date and something nice to do since you both don’t get this a lot. the day was going great, and you both didn’t have a care in the world at the moment. at some point you both took bathroom breaks and were separated. as you waited by the men’s bathroom you decided to check your phone for the first time in hours. you saw tweets from a few seconds ago and they were of you, and riki. your eyes widened and you immediately went to a nook of the amusement park to call him. wanting to just hide away.

- “y/n where are you? you were supposed to be waiting for me outside of the bathroom? y/n what is going on?” he was looking for you frantically, if riki lost you at this park he didn’t know what he would do.

- “i’m between these two buildings and and-“ you were stuttering, you yelped when you felt someone pull you into their embrace, “please don’t hurt me!”

- riki looked down at you confused, “y/n it’s me? what happened?” you looked up at him blinking and showing your phone to him which had the screenshotted tweets.

- “fuck…”

1K notes · View notes

cntloup · 20 days

Text

thoughts of miscarriage, mention of torture, injuries and blood

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

You slowly blink awake. But there’s no buzzing of lights and damp oily smells anymore.

It's a clean white room, a hospital as you figure out, mostly from the beeping sound of a machine beside you.

Your vision is still blurry, but you notice the large figure beside your bed.

You slightly tilt your head to see him as your vision gradually goes back to normal.

“Simon...” you rasp out, your throat hoarse and dry, your voice barely above a whisper and he lifts his head from his hands, “Hey, luv... don’t move too much, I'll call the nurse.”

You notice the bandages covering his shoulder that you didn't notice before through the fog encompassing your brain as he gets up to go call the nurse, but the thoughts of your baby overpowers that and you can't help but call for her.

The nurse enters your room, “My baby...” you mumble as she checks your vitals.

“Please! Where's my baby?” you whine and the nurse comes closer to you, “She's fine, love. She's placed in an intensive care nursery since she was born prematurely. But she's ok. A healthy beautiful baby.” she says with a warm smile and you sigh in relief, "You can see her when you get better. You need to rest now." she adds.

Moments pass in pure joy, but that doesn't last long as you remember bits and pieces of what happened to you, “Simon, they... they tortured me...” you let out a sob and Simon rushes to your side, "Shh, you don't have to talk about it, luv." he murmurs, holding you as you cling to him while bawling onto his chest and he coos softly, rubbing your arms and back to calm you down.

"Your shoulder... is it hurt too bad?" you ask, almost apologetic and you don't know why. None of it was your fault. Yet you can't keep the guilt from enfolding your heart.

" 's nothin', luv. Don't worry about it... I've had worse." he reassures you while trying to lighten the mood.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better how?" you ask rhetorically with a scoff.

They give you some morphine so you can rest and he sits beside you while holding your hand, drawing soothing circles on the back of your palm.

And his mind wanders as you sleep, going through all the horrible events that happened until now. How he found no trace of you apart from the pool of blood when he got back home. And how he went through hell and back to find and save you. How his heart shattered into pieces when he found you tortured and broken, streams of blood gushing out of you. How he nearly lost you.

And he makes a silent promise to finally confess his feelings to you and stay by your side every step of the way.

669 notes · View notes

lunarw0rks · 8 months

Note

humbly requesting ghost x reader where he thinks he’s too old and damaged for reader. i headcannon ghost to be anywhere between 35-38 and the reader would be early twenties. he’s all emo and “oh they’re too innocent, i’d hurt and ruin them” and reader is just like “i would die for this man.”

Too Old For You // Part One

Summary: You've been crushing on him for a while now, even going as far as taking a stab for him. But it isn't enough for him to notice you; you're too young, too nice for someone like him.

Warning(s): medic!reader, fem!reader, age gap [reader is early twenties, ghost is mid/late thirties], mild injury/blood, hurt/no comfort

Word Count: 817

A/N: I enjoy hurting my own feelings :)

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX | AO3 VER | PART TWO .ˎˊ˗

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You did know that, by this point, at least. He had only told you about a hundred times.

“I can do this myself. It’s my job,” you let out a hiss as the Lieutenant purposefully wrapped the gauze tighter than necessary. You weren’t even supposed to be involved — you were supposed to keep hidden until the situation was handled.

He ripped off the end of it, fastening the small clip to keep the wrap in place. “Keep quiet,” he wanted to be irate. But you meant well, and that’s what bothered Simon the most. He, of all people, didn’t deserve to be the one you sacrificed yourself for. You were lucky it was a knife through the hand and not through the heart—where the intruder had been aiming the blade intended for him.

The gash in your palm would be a life-long reminder, doomed to leave a nasty scar.

Nothing says I’m in love with you like taking a stab in the hand for him, but it was abundantly clear he was too headstrong to let you be with him. Or was intentionally dismissing your signals entirely, you weren’t sure which one was more disheartening.

Ghost sets your injured hand back down, letting you admire his sloppy patchwork. It got the job done, it didn’t need to be an aesthetically-pleasing bandage. He used an alcohol wipe to cleanse the bloodstains on your forearm, now an unnecessary service. Perhaps it was his way of apologizing for you being injured on his behalf because he surely wasn’t expressing it through words.

You reached over with your unharmed hand and placed it over his, stopping his meticulous wiping, “I got this.”

The stubborn Lieutenant only flicked his gaze upwards from your hand on his, a brief scoff escaping his lips. Whatever the hell that meant. “Least I can do is get the damn blood off you, kid. Jumped in front of a bloody knife for me.”

Kid. It was like nails on a chalkboard to you.

He continued muttering and shaking his head in disapproval, running the alcohol wipe along your flesh until there was no trace of crimson.

It wasn’t a motive of stupidity, nor was it to prove yourself. You weren’t even a soldier, there would be no use trying to be tough in front of him. Your true motive was admiration for him, and even now, with a stab wound, he’s too mule-headed to let you in. Any longer, and you might just lose your mind entirely.

“Thought you would be relieved, I guess.” You shrugged, speaking with a small bit of defeat. “Knife was supposed to go right there.” A finger pointed at his heart but didn’t dare make contact. You knew better than that,.. Sort of.

Before you could finish outstretching your hand, his unoccupied one clamped over it, breaths a little heavier. Followed by a look that could only be described as intense contemplation; should I break this hand or continue to gently hold it?

“You don’t have the slightest clue what you’re doing, do you?” Simon questions, thumb instinctually caressing your knuckle to balance out the iron grip he maintained. “You’re confused.”

You were too young, too nice in his eyes. It was your job to be a healer, a good one, too. And his job? A trained killer. To him, it was too ironic, too striking of a contrast. An arrangement like that would never work—Simon was too mature, too damaged, downright unworthy of your kindness. At least that’s what he had himself convinced of, even after the knife incident.

You replied hastily, a slight tinge of frustration showing. “I’m not confused, Ghost. I know what I want—I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.” You would’ve done it again if it meant another chance at restarting this conversation. A conversation that now was nose-diving into a point of no return.

“You shouldn’t have done it at all,” he sighed, amber eyes flooded with internal conflict. His grip released with one swift movement, and now his palm rested on either side of you, but it wasn’t intimidation he was after. “I’m not the bloke you want to jump in front of a bullet for, trust me.”

“Simon—” You blurted amidst his attempts at swaying you, cradling your bandaged hand. What more would it take?

“—Ghost.” He interjected, taking several steps back from his looming position. If he didn’t walk away now, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from poisoning you.

It wasn’t right. You deserve someone better than him. “It’s Ghost. We’re not doin’ this, Kid. I’m not doing it.” His words were like a punch to the gut, more painful than a stab to the hand, that’s for sure.

The door to the infirmary slammed shut, only seconds before his footsteps faded into silence, stranding you with the solitude of rejection.

1K notes · View notes

wlntrsldler · 2 months

Text

ii. and i never saw you coming, and i'll never be the same. | luke castellan | state of grace

sixteen-year-old luke castellan has his first kiss with you, the girl he'd been hopelessly crushing on for the last two years.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

sixteen-year-old luke castellan was shooting daggers at annabeth right now while she playfully approached you, pretending to expose his crush on you.

“beth!” he hissed, making a ‘cut-it-out’ motion with his hands. chris chuckled softly from beside him, too entertained by the situation unfolding. luke jabbed his elbow into chris’ rib, unable to handle two of his so-called friends laughing at his demise. “annabeth, please don’t!”

that caught your attention. you turned around to see annabeth, a sheepish smile on her face as she awkwardly waved at you. you cocked an eyebrow before tilting your head to see luke, half-standing from the bench with a frozen expression on his face. chris was doubled over in laughter, nearly falling off his seat.

“come with me,” you placed both hands on beth’s shoulders, letting her lead you to the two hermes boys. you stood in front of them, removing your hands from beth and crossing them over your chest. you playfully pointed between the three of them, “care to tell me what this is about?”

“i think luke should tell you,” chris shrugged, making eye contact with annabeth. the two of them erupted in giggles and luke wanted the ground to swallow him whole. if it wasn’t for his friends’ actions, he’s sure it would’ve been the redness on his cheeks that gave it away.

“well, go on, head counselor,” you bit your bottom lip, finding his blushing face completely adorable.

you and luke got closer over the past two years since he got to camp. he was always around the athena cabin, at first because he wanted to be close to annabeth, but everyone knew that it slowly morphed into wanting to see you and hang out with you more. because he was always with you, the campers got to know him fairly quickly. luke was right– everyone did love you, and by association, the campers liked him too, or at least, tolerated him.

you were known to be the nicest head counselor, even before you took the position from oliver, known as the best archer in camp’s history, and the wisest daughter of athena. the more luke hung out with you and got to know you, the more his feelings for you developed.

in his defense, it was hard not to fall for you. he’d never met anyone as funny as you. every time he returns to the hermes cabin from being with you, his stomach hurts from laughing so much. you seemed to finish each other’s sentences so the punchlines of the jokes die on the tip of your tongues, but you’re both out of breath from laughing that not finishing the joke didn’t even matter.

you took care of everyone at camp, even if they weren’t your own siblings. he’d seen you bandage travis and connor stoll up one too many times and let them go instead of writing them up for one of their pranks. the boys would return to the hermes cabin, heads hanging low, with a look of short-lived apologies on their faces when luke asked them about why they had bandages on their forearms. luke pretended not to notice the knowing smiles the two troublemakers shared whenever he would say, you’re lucky counselor y/n was there.

you were fearless. you were often chosen to be a companion for quests because everyone knew you were the best. you never denied them and it got to the point where chiron and mr. d had to make a public service announcement that you were no longer allowed to go on quests unless it was your own because camp fell apart during the weeks you were away. the first time luke prayed to the gods, to his father, was when you returned from a particularly difficult quest with clarisse and you were in the infirmary for three days.

but above all that, you made luke a better person. you inspired him to always find kindness in everything. you cared so much about your siblings and the campers and it made him open himself up to care for his own siblings. he and chris were inseparable now and luke knew he probably wouldn’t have been ready to get close to other people if it weren’t for you. you pushed him to work on his sword work, helped him understand strategies, and taught him everything about camp. eventually, people took note of him and he became the hermes head counselor not too long after.

in between all of these things were luke’s favorite moments; like the calm minutes after hours-long training sessions, where you reveal something new about yourself. you’d go on and on about a random story that goes off into at least ten tangential stories, but luke didn’t care. he’d gladly lay on his stomach, letting the rays of the sun beat down on his back until his skin turned red and hot to the touch, to hear you talk. you’d roll over on your back or prop your chin on your open palm and ask him questions about himself. and luke would tell you things he’d never told anyone before. luke treasures these moments in his mind– small, happy memories, like a step-by-step guide on how to fall in love.

“they were just going to pull a prank,” he lied, ignoring the ‘thumbs-down’ motion annabeth sent his way and the ‘womp womp’ that chris let slip past his lips. “told them to quit it.”

“tsk, tsk,” you tutted, but there was no anger on your face, only fondness. you looked at annabeth, “i expected better from the daughter of athena, but you’re too much like your brother.”

“oh, ew, don’t say that,” annabeth shook her head, walking away as luke raised his hands in defense. chris pat luke on the back, following annabeth back to camp to join everyone else.

“i am offended that she is in her, ‘i hate my brother phase,” luke scoffed, shaking his head. he moved over to let you sit on chris’ previous seat. “i’m not that bad to warrant an ‘ew.’”

“she loves you,” you nudged him, letting your shoulder stay connected to his. “she’s exactly like you, even if she doesn’t admit it.”

“she’s got the good parts of me,” he replied, looking down at where his shoulder was touching yours. his hand slowly crept to yours, trying not to be super awkward about it.

he’d held hands with you before, when you’d mindlessly lace your fingers together underneath the table while you were talking to someone, wanting to feel him there, making sure that he was next to you or when you’d hold his hand during moments where he’d get so frustrated with the gods that you had to calm him down. but he always got nervous initiating it.

over the years, he’d grown to be strong and unafraid, but when it came to you, his resolve crumbled. with you, he was just a teenage boy with a crush.

“so, she’s got all of you,” you said, noticing his hand moving closer. you put a hand over his, flipping it over so you could properly hold it. you squeezed his hand making him rub his thumb across the back of yours.

“not all of me,” he turned his head to look at you, “i see parts of you in her, too.”

“you mean our mom.”

“no, i don’t,” luke replied, sincerity in his eyes. “i mean you.”

sure, annabeth was brilliant like the daughter of athena should be. she was always six steps ahead of everyone else and she quickly became your right-hand woman when coming up with strategies for capture the flag. there was no doubt that annabeth was a daughter of athena.

but there were so many parts of you, the person she looked up to the most, in her as well. annabeth was more patient than luke. she can explain things to younger campers, and sometimes older ones, a hundred times without getting frustrated that they weren’t grasping the concept. luke had to walk away so many times when he got frustrated. you’re such a hot head, luke, you said to him once, a teasing smile on your face as you ran your hands down his back to help him relax. beth also grew to read people well. she can hear the unspoken words in conversations and know exactly what someone needs, a heightened sense of emotional intelligence that luke knew she couldn’t have learned from anyone else but you.

there were other, simpler, things too; like how annabeth doesn’t tie her shoes too tightly, unless she was training or competing, so she can slip her shoes on and off easily, or how she tucks her camp necklace under her shirt just like you.

the look in luke’s eyes was intense. you had to look away before you lost your senses and connected your lips with his. he does this often, say things so nonchalantly like it didn’t make your breath catch in your throat. he says these words with such clarity, like the only things he’d ever been sure of in his life were the things he says about you or to you. it made your head spin.

“so,” you changed the subject, untangling your hands from each other to turn your entire body to face him. you poked his cheek with your index finger, “you gonna tell me the truth about what that was?”

“what’s that?” he asked, dumbly, trying to act like chris and beth didn’t just leave you alone with him. he pretended to think, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “dunno what you’re talking about?”

you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. you felt him wrap an arm around your torso, his chest rumbling as he laughed at your reaction. you looked up at him, temple pressed against his shoulder blade, “c’mon, luke,”

“no,” he shook his head, face turning red again, “it’s humiliating.”

“if i tell you a secret, can you tell me yours?” you whispered. luke shivered at the feeling of your breath hitting his skin. he felt the goosebumps rising on his arms that he had wrapped around you. you pulled your head away from him, creating more distance, “how does that sound?”

“no promises,” he replied, eyes darting to your lips for a brief second. he cleared his throat, “if your secret is a good one, then maybe i’ll consider it.”

“oh it’s a good one,” you said, mischief in your eyes. there were only a handful of moments where you let go of your head counselor persona, where you’d join the hermes cabin in wreaking havoc on camp.

his sixteenth birthday came to mind. you arranged for a surprise birthday party for him. he woke up to an empty cabin, which was rare, and camp was deserted when he left to grab breakfast. when he got to the dining hall, all the food prepared were his favorites and there was a messily painted banner hanging across the walls, courtesy of the art skills of the younger campers you taught during arts and crafts the day before.

the food wasn’t nutritional at all and mr. d made it clear that it would never happen again. i don’t know what i was thinking saying yes to an all-day sugar rush, he muttered after the third instance of young kids breaking their arms from attempting to climb up on their cabin roofs. maybe twinkies and salt and vinegar potato chips were not the healthiest breakfast foods, but luke thought it was perfect.

he received his present from you after, a messenger bag for the son of the god of messengers and a compass that always pointed him back to the athena cabin. so you always find your way home, you reasoned.

luke knew he didn’t need a compass to bring him back to you. his dad gave him the ability to always find his way back home and he was glad you knew that to him, home was wherever you were. on his sixteenth birthday, with you under his arm and the compass safely tucked inside his pocket, for the first time, he was thankful to be his father’s son.

that look of mischief in your eye always meant that you had something up your sleeve and luke didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. luke pressed, “tell me, then.”

“i have a crush on this boy,” you scrunched your face up, cheeks dusted with the lightest shade of pink.

he pursed his lips, heart dropping. he knew this time would come. he was thankful that he was spared from the boy talk that you engaged in with your other friends. he often heard you and silena squealing about some guy one of you liked and he was glad that you had other friends to talk to about it because he couldn’t handle you gush over another guy when he felt this deeply about you.

“it’s the new aphrodite kid, isn’t it?” luke asked, pulling away from you. “everyone is in love with him. even clarisse said he was cute! i personally don’t see it.”

you rolled your eyes, “luke, come on.”

“what?” he asked, “i’m pretty sure he’s not even a natural blond.”

you didn’t know if luke was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t realize that you were talking about him. you’d been blatantly obvious about how you felt about him, at least you thought you had been. you were always sitting beside him, choosing him to be your partner for head counselor activities, spent every free moment you had with him, and you were touchy with him, more than you were with anyone else at camp. at this point, all that was left to do was to spell it out for him.

you laughed, throwing your head back in laughter, “it’s not jack.”

“who then?”

“nope,” you said, shaking your head. “you gotta tell me your secret now because i told you mine.”

“that was like half a secret, angel!”

“okay so tell me half of your secret!”

“fine,” he relented, “i have a crush, too.”

your eyes widened, heart beating a million miles an hour. you knew how he felt about you, but you'd just been waiting for him to say something. “now, you have to tell me!”

“you first!” luke laughed, reaching out to grab you when you got up. you slipped past his fingers, walking away. “come back!”

your laughter filled his ears as you stood behind him. you wrapped your arms around him, propping your chin on his shoulder. luke nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a content sigh. he tilted his head to the side, his lips ghosting over the skin of your arm.

you stayed like that for a few beats until he broke the silence. he should be upset right now because you liked a boy and wouldn’t tell him who it was, but it was hard to be mad when you were holding him like this. he looked up at you, a boyish grin on his face, eyes half open, “you gonna tell me?”

“it’s obvious,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. he purred under your touch, grabbing a hold of your arms to stop you from leaving his side. you weren’t planning to. “come on, luke. use that pretty little head of yours.”

luke tucked his face into the crease of your elbow, hiding his blush. he racked his brain for anyone else who you could have a crush on, but his mind ended up blank. when he thought of who on this earth could deserve you, he came up with no names. there was nobody who was good enough for you.

he changed his strategy. who did you hang out with at camp? he tried to think of the people he saw you with. he’s seen you with the boy from the apollo cabin a few times but that was usually only when one of your siblings got injured. maybe the boy from the hephaestus cabin? the one who made his sword? no, you only talked to him on luke’s behalf that one time when you noticed he needed a new sword because he broke it during a particularly intense training session with you. he frowned. the only guy you actually hung out with at camp was him. and that couldn’t possibly be… unless?

luke’s head snapped up, “do you like me?”

“do you like me, he says,” you mimicked, “took ya long enough.”

you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before running away from him, giggling and blushing like a school girl. luke couldn’t react quick enough to stop you from leaving, too dazed at your rushed confession. when he snapped back to his senses, he jumped from his seat, using all his strength to chase after you. he was thankful for his growth spurt because he caught up to you before you entered the main area of camp.

he wrapped his arms around your hips, twirling you around, ignoring your sounds of protests. he stared at you as you beat on his chest, hair in disarray from the wind. his lips were in a full-blown grin, head spinning with thoughts of you. you. you. you. you were all he could think about.

he finally put you down but left his hands on your hips as you tried to fix your messy hair. he liked you like this, soft and shy. it was a part of you that felt like was reserved for him. usually, you took on this authoritative, caretaker role, always having the weight of responsibility resting on your back, but with him, in these secret moments, you were delicate. luke wanted to protect you from everything, not because he thought you needed his protection, but because he felt like he’d finally found his purpose in this life-- to be with you. it was still caused by the hands of fate but away from the meddling of the gods.

“you like me,” he teased, pinching the skin of your hips.

“don’t get cocky,” you replied, smacking his chest.

luke hummed, leaning closer, “i like you too.”

“i know,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “just wanted you to confess first.”

“c’mon angel, cut me some slack,” he blushed, eyes darting to your lips. he ran his tongue across his lips, “didn’t think i had a shot with you.”

“you need to start giving yourself more credit, luke,” you reached over to cradle his face in your palm. your eyes traced over his features, mesmerized by the pools of honey in his eyes, the pink of his plump lips, “you’re the best person i know.”

“all ‘cause of you,” there were those words again. there was no room for argument when luke spoke about you. he was sure of it, too sure of you.

“are you gonna kiss me or am i gonna have to make all the moves in this relationship?”

luke rolled his eyes, “shut up.”

he placed his lips on yours, unable to stop himself from smiling as you kissed back. he pushed you towards him, wanting to feel you closer. the kiss was short because you were both breathless and grinning. it was messy and uncoordinated with it both being your first kisses. when he pulled his lips away from yours, he placed kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, his curls tickling your skin.

eventually, he stopped in a fit of giggles, lips puffy and pink. there was a dazed look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. he let go of your hips but threaded your fingers together as you walked into camp, burying his face into your hair when he heard chris and beth hollering in support when they saw your intertwined hands and disheveled demeanors.

#frances writes #frances song fics #state of grace #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan one shot #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series

636 notes · View notes

urfavlarry · 1 month

Note

i love your sbg content!!!! if you’d like, could i request some ben and tyler hcs (separate) of the reader helping them calm down when they’re pissed at something? im a sucker when angry characters are soft for only certain people. bonus points for gentle hugs and kisses

Tyler & Ben (seperate) x gn!reader

summary: reader helps them calm down after they got pissed off because someone talked shit about reader behind readers back

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, violence, mentions of bl00d

A/N: hope this makes sense i wrote this at 1am so sorry if its shitty😭

Tyler Hernández

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

School fights. Typical American high school movie type of shit, but today just had to be one of those days where it happened. You were walking to the front gate of the school when a crowd started to form and a series of ‘oohs’ and cheers were heard. It wouldn’t have interested you if you hadn’t caught your boyfriends name in that crowd. You run over and push through the people and see your boyfriend fighting your friend. You and some other person pull them away from each other, both of them beat up, well the other person a bit more. You pull Tyler by the arm and you hear curses aimed at you and Tyler; “Pussy!” “Booo!” You ignore them and hold Tylers hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. You walk in silence, only Tylers huffing and heavy breathing being heard. He was looking anywhere but you, too angry to even speak.

You unlock your house and drag him to the bathroom upstairs. You sit him down on the edge of the bath tub and you crouch and open the cabinet, taking out the first aid kit. You glance over at him, his leg bouncing like it was running on electricity. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask softly as you start your clean the blood from his nose and lip, making him hiss in pain. He stays silent for a while as if he was thinking or trying to find the right words to explain the situation.

You wait patiently for him to sort it out in his head and play with his hair while sitting in his lap, softly kissing the spots that were bruised. He pulls you closer and hugs you, his face buried in your chest, mumbling swears and incoherent sentences. You rub his back and hum, knowing that mostly calms him down. He looks up at you, his gaze softening. “You ready to tell me what happened baby?” He nods and you smile, kissing his forehead. He looks away and speaks in a hushed tone; “They were.. spreading shitty things about you, so I defended you.” He says and frowns, looking guilty. “But they fucking deserved it fucking hijo de puta—” You kiss his lips to stop his rambling and his shoulders relax, kissing you back. You smile into the kiss as his hands wander down to your waist, squeezing it gently. You pull away, putting your forehead against his; “Ty, I’m glad you protected me but you don’t need to beat people up for it.” He huffs, quickly snapping back; “But—” You place your finger on his soft lips, shushing him; “No buts, you shouldn’t fight people, I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He cups your cheek and smirks up at you.

“I’d kill for you princesa.” He looks at you lovingly and pulls you into another passionate kiss.

Ben Clark

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

You and the group were aware of Bens “anger issues” ever since the day you saw Logan getting bullies by Barron. You were well aware of how things like bullying triggered him so you tried to keep him away from things like that along with Aiden, who was always there to calm him down. Today Aiden wasn’t there, leaving you to deal with an angry Ben. Not that you minded but you never really calmed him down. You pull him away quickly from the fight, making him thrash around and he hits you right in the nose. You hiss in pain but drag him to the schools ‘abandoned’ bathroom. You take out some bandages and tampons, wrapping his bleeding knuckles with the bandages and clean off the blood from his lip with the tampon. He huffs, breathing heavily and his legs tremble. You finish cleaning him and gently pull him into a hug, playing with his hair. He breathes in your scent and seemingly relaxes wrapping his arms around your stomach, pulling you into his lap.

You sat there for a bit, humming the tune of his favorite song and pull away, kissing his cheek, forehead and finally his soft lips. You intended it to be a quick peck on the lips but he pulled you right back, kissing you with a bit more force. You pull away for breath and he hides his face in the crook of your neck. The bells rings but you guys stay seated on the floor of the bathroom. “Can you tell me what happened my love?” You say softly and kiss his cheek. He carefully take put his phone his head still rested against your chest, typing something on his phone.He hands you the phone after he finishes and you read it, making sure to not leave out even a single detail. “Your new friend the one you met in your volleyball class, she was saying some mean shit about you and I just snapped.”

You nod and lift his head up to look at you; “I’m really glad you stood up for me but you know you shouldn’t beat people up. I know it’s harder for you and I promise to help you through it okay?” You say with a smile and kiss his nose. You rub his back soothingly and he just fiddles with his fingers, obviously nervous. You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, making him smile and you notice just the slightest hint of blush on his cheeks. You guys talk for the rest of the class you skipped in the bathroom and after the last bell rang you went home. You board the bus and sit down next to him and let him sleep for the rest of the bus ride. You both shared headphones and listened to your shared playlist that slowly lulled you to sleep.

#ben sbg x reader #ben clark #ben clark x reader #ben clark sbg #sbg ben #sbg ben clark #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard fanfiction #tyler sbg x reader #tyler hernandez x reader #tyler hernandez #sbg tyler x reader #sbg tyler

458 notes · View notes

loveinhawkins · 9 months

Text

Steve thinks he’s doing a good job at hiding it, but then Eddie catches his eye right as he’s limping out of the RV and… huh, maybe not.

Eddie, with panicked urgency—which, in Steve’s opinion, is admittedly sweet but unnecessary—asks if the bites are bothering him again.

“No, dude, it’s nothing,” Steve says. “It’s literally nothing.”

Eddie doesn’t look at all reassured.

Goddamn it, Steve thinks. Better rip off the band aid and hope it’s not too mortifying.

“It’s not the bites. It’s… um. My feet.”

Eddie glances down but there’s nothing to see; as soon he’d entered The War Zone, Steve had crammed his feet into the first pair of combat boots he could find.

“Oh,” Eddie says, the penny dropping. “Oh, shit. Yeah, hang on, just…”

He looks around, humming in thought, then grabs a bottle of water with decisiveness, and yeah, Steve thinks, this is gonna be incredibly mortifying.

But he can’t find a way to wriggle out of it without making the whole thing a way bigger deal than it needs to be—so he ends up sat in the grass, wincing as he pries off his boots.

It is, in a word, gross.

“Don’t know why they’re bugging me so damn much,” Steve says just to fill the silence. He huffs self-effacingly, goes to wiggle his toes before deciding ow, better not and ew, better not. “It’s, like, hardly anything compared to…”

He gestures to the bandage wrapped around him.

“Well, you weren’t walking on your stomach,” Eddie points out.

He pours out water onto some tissues he’s rustled up and gets to work.

Steve keeps waiting for the embarrassment to well and truly set in.

But… it doesn’t.

Eddie doesn’t once make a crack about how awful his feet look.

Instead he launches into a story of how, against his uncle’s sage advice, he’d gone to school in a new pair of boots (his birthday present) without breaking them in first.

It was freshman year, so Eddie’s whole look hadn’t been solidified yet. But he was determined to make it work—stomping around the school (“Were any lunch tables harmed?” Steve asks, and Eddie warmly tells him to shut up), steadfastly ignoring the growing discomfort.

At the end of the day, he’d taken his boots off and surveyed the damage with a melodramatic cry; “Kid, I really don’t know what to tell ya,” Wayne had huffed.

Eddie hams up his whiny, teenaged disgust so that he becomes the butt of the joke, and Steve suddenly feels like he’s watching a magician onstage—except he knows where to look, isn’t fooled by the sleight of hand: Eddie’s dramatics all serve as a distraction from the caked on dirt and blood he steadily cleans off Steve’s skin.

It’s quiet, unassuming. A hidden kindness.

Eddie doesn’t need to be doing this; Steve could quite easily take the bottled water and do it all himself—would probably get it over and done with in a matter of minutes, concealed around the other side of the RV, quick and perfunctory.

But you’re letting him, Steve thinks. Why are you letting him?

Eddie’s hands are cold, a pleasant contrast to the burning sensation all across his feet—honestly, he’d been hoping that so long as he just kept walking, he’d gradually become numb to it.

There’s a loud rip of plastic as a pack of baby wipes are opened. Eddie’s touch is light which soothes some of the sting, at least; he trails off into silence as he works, hissing sympathetically at whatever’s revealed.

“You’ve got a couple cracks,” he says, eyebrows drawn.

Steve gives an over exaggerated sigh. “Give it to me straight, doc. Am I gonna have to chop ‘em off?”

Eddie chuckles, but his concern doesn’t fade away.

“Just here,” he says, pointing, and the tip of his finger brushes against Steve’s heel—Steve tries not to, but he twitches reflexively, and Eddie flashes him an impish grin. “Ticklish?”

“Fuck off,” Steve says, smiling.

He kicks out, stops just short of actually hitting Eddie in the face.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Harrington,” Eddie says through laughter, pushing Steve’s foot away—gently. “I’ll take it to the grave.”

It’s a joke; Steve knows it’s a joke. But—

“You don’t need to do that, man. Robin already knows.”

Eddie stands up and stretches, gives Steve’s ankle a little pat.

“Think you’re all set—woah, wait,” he says as Steve reaches for the combat boots, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, what’s it look like?”

“Harrington. You cannot put those on without socks again, you’re gonna summon my uncle; he’s got, like, a sixth sense about that kinda stuff.”

Eddie’s smile drops a little at that, a flash of melancholy breaking through.

God, you must really miss him, Steve thinks.

“I’m just making do. I don’t have any socks.”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie’s smile returns in full force—puzzled, perhaps just a little fond. “You got me some, remember?”

Eddie retrieves a pair from the RV and, that’s right, Steve had forgotten: he’d bought a whole pack during their first grocery trip, after Eddie had made an offhand comment about feeling cold in the boathouse.

Poor guy, Steve had thought as they walked through The Upside Down. This is cold on a whole new level.

The socks are thick and warm. Steve pulls on the boots, relishing the fact that his toes no longer scream in protest as he does so.

He tightens the laces; Eddie’s sat down opposite him again.

“There. Ready for battle,” Steve says.

Eddie’s eyes flicker over the combat boots, then Steve’s whole get-up—and there’s nothing teasing in his gaze now, as if he’s seeing everything in another light. Like the gravity of it all has just hit him.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Battle.”

“Hey, Eddie. Don’t worry.”

Eddie huffs with a wan smile. “Wow. And just like that, I won’t.”

Steve nudges him with his foot. Gentle. “M’not gonna ruin your handiwork.”

Eddie doesn’t reply.

Steve stands, tries a short walk in place. It’ll work. It has to.

“I’d just do it again,” Eddie says suddenly. “If… I—I wouldn’t mind.”

Steve pauses. Offers Eddie a hand and pulls him up.

“I wouldn’t mind either,” Steve says softly.

And then he lets go of Eddie’s hand.

Standing tall, he starts to round everyone up for the drive back—and wishes them all a future of simple fixes: of superficial cracks, easy to patch up.

#little moments of care ❤️#pre steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 3 months

Note

Jade my dear I just had an idea for prince Steve… what if he got hurt (fencing or something??? honestly idk) & reader freaks out even though their relationship is fairly new? Or idk how your soulmate au works but maybe she can feel it too? Or idk!! I’d just love to see what you could do with that, but no pressure either way 🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1.1k

“Holy fuck!” Steve says, yanking his leg back from the doctor’s cold hands, and hurting his knee worse than ever. “Fuck!”

“Steven,” she says with an eye roll, used to his lack of carefulness by now.

“What the fuck.”

“It’s not that bad. You haven’t even torn anything. It’s a sprain at worst.”

“I will never walk again.”

“Fingers crossed,” Robin says, kicking her legs up onto the end of his medical bed. Her hat slips down into her eyes, her naked knees red from ten minutes in the grass trying to persuade Steve into standing again.

“It hurt so bad. Are you sure I can’t have morphine?” he asks.

The doctor tightens the bandages one last time around Steve’s knee. “Absolutely not. I’ll make you a peppermint tea for the inflammation. You’ll be better by tomorrow.”

It throbs evilly. Steve doesn’t believe even for a moment that his knee will be better by tomorrow, he can’t walk without help. “I want to see another doctor,” he decides.

“Sure,” the doctor says. “Tomorrow.”

Steve sinks down into the pillows unhappily. What kind of royal life is this? Nobody ever takes him seriously, they couldn’t care less that he’s injured, and now he’s doomed to sit inside for who knows how long in the suffocating heat and the smothering presence of his attendants. Worst day ever.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, because if he’s going to suffer, he’s going to be spoiled about it. “I want to see her.”

“She’s in her political etiquette class,” Robin says from under the hat, unmoving.

“That’s dumb. She doesn’t like politics or etiquette. Can we have her pulled out?”

“Sure, Steve, we’ll disrupt her entire day because you slipped on dry grass.”

Steve tries to catch the eye of one of the serfs lining the room and by the door, but they’re smart to his ways, and they look away. He doesn’t care. He’s a prince. “Hello? Can someone go and get her, please?”

They all stand still but uncomfortable for a moment, and then one says, “She’s coming down the hall as we speak, your highness.”

“Aw, yes,” he says, propping up on his elbows to look out the doorway. There you are, in a pretty, breezy dress you aren’t used to wearing and your hair in one of the new fashions, silver bracelets tinkling on your wrist as you speed walk to the door.

“Hello,” you say, breathless, still shy despite having married him and kissed him more times than he can count (seventeen).

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ve been grievously harmed.”

“They told me, and I–” You rub your index fingernail between the thumb and index of the other hand. “I can feel it,” you say, an embarrassed and adorable smile on your lips as you waver in the door. “Are you okay?”

“You have to sit down and have some morphine too,” he says quickly.

“You aren’t having any morphine,” Robin says.

You weave around servants and the dressing table to stand by his bed. He’s pleased to realise you want to sit hip to hip with him, moving over despite his screaming knee, and putting his arm behind you as you hoist yourself onto the bed. “Hello,” he says, audibly charmed by you as he kisses your cheek. He rubs the kiss with the back of his finger. “Didn’t hurt you too much, did I?”

“It feels like I’ve had a cramp,” you say. “But it’s not– I can’t imagine how it feels for you.”

“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he says.

“Ew,” Robin grumbles, covering her face with skinny hands.

“Sorry, Robin.” You wipe your forehead. “I freaked out.”

“Don’t say sorry to her,” Steve says, putting his hand on your hip just to watch you fluster, “she’s bitter. Let me rub your knee.”

“What about your knee? What did you even do?”

“I fell. A little. A minor fall.”

“Will you be alright?”

“Honey, I’m in agony, and they won’t treat me, and you’re sitting with me, so I’m already fine.”

Confusion in your gaze melds to sweetness. You’re practically heart-eyed leaning into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach. You rarely initiate hugs from fear of being overbearing, and he can’t believe his luck. He’ll be eating grass more often.

“I can feel that you aren’t fine. Are you going to be okay? Seriously, Steve, are you hurting?”

Your soul mark burns a light blue. He’s narrowed your colours down, he thinks, maybe, though they tend to change. Blue means love and affection. He’s a more classic guy —when he’s in love, his soul mark burns a gaussian pink just as it does now.

“Oh, you can feel it?” he asks.

“Don’t start.”

“We’re so connected,” he says quietly, teasingly, a flirtation for your ears alone. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something. Suns, I wish. I’d be a lucky guy, huh? Connected to a girl like you?” He draws a line from just below your ear to your chin. “I’d feel like a prince among men.”

“Stop,” you whisper, in a tone that suggests you’d very much like him to continue.

Nonetheless, he drops his hand in favour of kissing you instead, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. His leg throbs with angry pain and a headache brews between his eyes, but he’s not kidding about being fine. Everything feels better when you’re with him. You truly are the half to his whole, no matter how new your relationship might be.

“How was your morning?” he asks.

“Being a princess is awful.”

“Yes, but it suits you.”

You turn your face to his, close enough to kiss. It’s very tempting for Steve, but he lets you say what’s clearly on your mind. “I had a funny feeling about you this morning, like something bad was going to happen, and I wanted to be with you in case but they wouldn’t let me out of meditation. Do you think I was having a premonition?”

“Maybe. They wouldn’t let you out?”

“Morine said I need to have better discipline if I’m going to be queen.”

He laughs and wraps his arms around you completely for a full, loving hug. “You will be queen, no ifs about it, so you need to start acting like one and have more hissy fits to visit your pathetic husband.” He kisses your cheek three times in quick succession.

Your soul mark intensifies slowly, until it burns a beautiful, coruscating blue that dances over the skin of your wrist as you hug him back. “You’re the opposite of pathetic.”

“No, I was. Ask Robin.”

“He was,” Robin says.

“But I’m totally cooler now,” he promises.

You let your face fall into the curve of his neck, tickling him with your smile. “You’re so cool, Steve.”

“My lovely liar.” He kisses the top of your head.

“As touching as this is, I have your tea ready now, young Steven,” the doctor says.

Steve pretends he can’t hear her.

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

628 notes · View notes

chiefdirector · 2 months

Text

Crash | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

“Where is she?” Sargent Tim Bradford demanded as soon as he stepped off the elevator and into the reception area of the Hospital. Chen was behind him, trying to keep up as he weaved his way through the crowd towards the desk.

There had been a pile up on the freeway. Multiple casualties and even more injuries. In the rubble, Detective (Y/N) Bradford’s car lay. She had been on the radio to Tim and Sargent Grey when her car had been smashed into. He listened as she screamed and went silent.

When he and Chen arrived at the scene, she had already been carted away in an ambulance, with the firefighters and emergency rescue teams unsure whether or not she had been one of those to leave in a body bag.

“Where is she?!” He repeated as he got to the desk, ignoring the groaning and complaints of the people she shoved past. He barely clocked onto the bewildered expression of the receptionist as he spoke.”

“Sir, if this is about the accident you will have-“

“If you tell me to wait, I will have you arrested for obstruction of justice,” he snapped. Chen tried to pull him away and calm him down but he stood strong. “Where is (Y/N) Bradford. She should’ve been here.”

The receptionist looked quite shaken by his request but she still searched the name, hands trembling as she typed. “There is a (Y/N) Bradford but I don’t have a status on her condition. I can tell you when I get the report in. You’ll be the first to know.”

“Fine,” he snapped, moving away from the desk before he worked himself up anymore.

——————

Five hours had passed before he had heard anything.

Watching the waiting room clear out, he felt like he was going to lose his mind. One by one he saw happy reunion or heartbreak for everybody around him. The longer the Tim passed, the worse the outcome in the bottom of his stomach felt.

It was as if he couldn’t breathe. Not knowing if she was okay or not. So when the small receptionist approach him, it was as if air had been restored.

“Excuse me, officer.” She said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I have an update on (Y/N) Bradford.”

Tim whipped around immediately, pouring all of his focus into her words. “What? Where is she? Is she-“

“Ms. Bradford is currently being treated in the Trauma Unit. She had sustained severe injuries to her left arm. She had surgery to place some bolts to help align the bone.”

“She’ll be okay?” He breathed.

“Yes.” The receptionist paused, looking at the foreboding Sargent, recognising the look of love and worry in his eyes. “She’ll be okay. She’s been asking for someone named Tim. I’m assuming that’s you.”

“Yeah,” he said, voice wavering for the first time as the rush of relief flowed through him. Although he wouldn’t truly relax until he saw her. “Can I go see her?”

“Like I said, she’s been asking for you.”

——————

Despite being told she was awake doing well, Tim almost sprinted to her bedside, not believing anything until he saw her himself. It took every ounce of will power not to burst through the door. Stopping directly outside, he took a deep breath before entering.

Despite all the tubes, cannulas, and bandages, she still looked ethereal. He swore that even an angel couldn’t have looked as beautiful as her.

“Hi,” he breathed out, slowing making his way to her bedside. Once she was in reach, he leaned across to brush some hair out of her face. “How you doing sweetheart?”

“Sore.” She said, voice croaking from sleep. With much effort, she shuffled across the bed to beckon him to lay with her.

“I bet. I was real worried about you.”

She cooed slightly at his words. “Here I was thinking that the Sargent Tim Bradford was some unfeeling monster.”

“Not for you sweetheart. Not for you.”

Masterlist

@rookietrek

#tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #the rookie #the rookie x reader #chiefdirector

575 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 3 months

Text

Coffee Shop: VI

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

Simon, having finished his workout earlier than usual, decided to break his routine and head to the coffee shop a few minutes ahead of his typical schedule. As he approached the entrance, he spotted the man who had asked you for your number the day before. Simon took a deep breath and increased his pace, striding purposefully towards the door with larger steps.

“C'mon, doll face, what’s the real reason you didn’t call me?”

“I lost your number, I don’t know what happened to the napkin you gave me.” He took a step closer to you, and you backed into the table.

“I know you're lying. What is it, hm? Not attractive enough for you?” He grabbed your waist, trying to bring you closer, and you shoved him off you.

His hand lifted, and you put your hands up to block him from hitting you, but in one swift motion, Simon’s fist collided with the side of his face. Your eyes grew wide, and you took a step back.

Simon, fueled by a surge of protective instinct, straddled the man on the ground, gripping his collar and lifting him up. Another punch followed, blood spouting from the man's nose, prompting a shocked reaction from you. Concern etched across your face, you gently placed your hand on Simon's shoulder.

"Simon, please, you're going to kill him," Reluctantly, he got off the man, taking a deep breath. Simon then lifted the man off the ground and dragged him toward the cafe door.

"If I ever see you come here again or she tells me that you tried doing something to her while I wasn't around, I'll find out where you live and fucking kill you. You understand, mate?" The man nodded in terror as Simon opened the door and forcefully threw him out.

You approached Simon with a gentle stride, placing your hand on his arm as you brought his hand closer to your eyes. A small gasp escaped you as you noticed the slight cut on his knuckles, your eyes widening in concern.

"Take a seat, I’m going to grab the first aid kit," your worry evident. Simon, trying to reassure you, offered a slight smile. "I’m okay, love, no need to burden yourself."

"Simon, you have a cut on your knuckle, it could get infected," Anticipating his protest, you furrowed your brows, looking up at him with a soft plea.

"Simon, please," he felt a subtle skip in his heartbeat. He nodded in agreement, not just to let you tend to the cut but also to let you disappear into the back, giving him a moment to smile to himself.

Observing the small red cut, he marveled at how you were getting worked up over this minor injury.

The thought crossed his mind – what would you think if you saw the deep scars that adorned his body.

You returned to Simon with purpose, speed walking and taking a seat next to him. His hand was placed on the table in front of you, and you swiftly opened the small medical kit, retrieving peroxide and cotton balls.

Simon gazed down at you, a content smile playing on his lips. Your hands worked deftly as you soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and tapped it onto his cut. He hissed, and your eyes widened, immediately shifting to his face. To your surprise, he was smiling.

"You ass," you teased, and he laughed in response. You resumed your task, tapping the cut before applying cream and securing a bandage. Simon raised an eyebrow when he noticed the bandaid – white with small brown bears.

"Sorry, it's the only ones we had left," He smiled down at you before relaxing his gaze.

"Are you okay?" asking with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay. He didn't hurt me or anything," he simply nodded, and a smile adorned your face as you looked down at your hands.

"Thank you for protecting me... I don't know what would have happened if you weren't here," your eyes locked with Simon’s. There's a warmth in his gaze that makes you melt in the chair.

"No need to thank me, love. I wasn't just going to stand there and let him hurt you,"

You smile up at him, and the moment lingers for a few seconds, the two of you locked in a gaze that speaks volumes. The only thing that tears your gaze from his is the sound of your manager's voice from the back.

"I should go see what he wants. Do you want your regular?"

Simon smiles and nods, "please."

You grab the med kit and disappear into the back of the cafe. Simon looks down at his knuckle with the bandaid on it, lightly brushing his finger over it and smiling. The tenderness with which you cared for him resonates in his thoughts – the gentleness, the careful movements, as if you were tending to a fragile bird with a broken wing.

The moment was more than just about a cut on his knuckle; it was a silent acknowledgment of the care and connection growing between you two. Simon couldn't help but appreciate the emotional comfort that lingered even after you left.

His gaze shifted to the door, and a warm smile spread across his face when he spotted Elise. "There's the most gorgeous woman I know."

Elise turned, her own smile lighting up when she saw Simon. "Honey, you're back! Now, where have you been?" Simon rose from his seat and walked up to her, linking his arm with hers. Together, they made their way to his table.

"Overseas."

"Oh? A military man. Makes sense with these strong muscles," Elise remarked, lightly squeezing his arm, and Simon couldn't help but smile. They both took their seats, Simon across from Elise, who then noticed the book you had lent him.

"What are you reading now, honey?"

"Y/n lent me this book. I finished reading it a few days ago," Elise smiled and leaned in, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"When are you going to take her out, hmm? That girl is head over heels for you, Simon. She would not stop talking about you the entire time you were gone." Simon's smile grew, his heart fluttering and swelling in his chest at Elise's words. The realization that you had been talking about him in his absence brought a warmth that lingered throughout their conversation.

"Really, what did she say?" a curious eyebrow raised. Elise, however, merely smirked at him before getting up. "You'll have to ask her yourself." She strolled over to the register, and just as she did, you walked out, greeting her with a big smile and asking about her day.

After a few minutes of small talk and bidding farewell to Elise, you made Simon's tea and brought it over to him. "I'm sorry that took a while."

He handed you the money and smiled, "No worries, love. Was talking to Elise while you were out back." You took a seat across from him, your elbow propping your head up.

"Really? Did she offer to crochet you a beanie?" Simon smiled and shook his head slightly. "No, she didn't. She told me that you spoke about me while I was gone." Your smile faded into an awkward laugh as you mentally cursed out Elise for bringing up your conversations about Simon.

"Yeah, I was bored without you around," you admitted, looking away briefly before meeting Simon's gaze again.

"Missed my company, hmm?" Simon teased, a warm smile playing on his lips as he lifted the mug to his lips. You paused, holding his gaze for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, I did," you confessed, feeling a hint of embarrassment. Your eyes dropped to your hands, but Simon, sensing your vulnerability, put his cup down on the table and leaned towards you.

"When I was overseas, the tea at the base tasted like burnt nuclear waste. I couldn't wait to come back home," your face brightened as you looked up at him. A warm smile spread across your face.

"I'm glad you had something to look forward to," you said sincerely.

Simon's return had brought back more than just the familiar taste of home – it had brought a warmth and joy that you both cherished in each other's company.

During your break, you sat with Simon, and for the first time, you heard him ramble about something - specifically, the book you had lent him. Engrossed in conversation, you both talked about the ending of the book, and you learned that Simon’s favorite character was Joel Miller.

As you returned to work, Simon found moments to share jokes with you while you were behind the register. The sound of your laughter made his heart swell, and in those moments, he felt a lightness he hadn't known before.

As the familiar beep of his watch signaled the end of his time with you, you turned toward him, "Heading out?"

Simon looked at the time on his watch before meeting your gaze. He stood up and replied, "No, I think I'll stay for a bit longer."

"No plans tonight?" you asked with a warm smile as you wiped down the counter. "Don't ever really have plans, I stay home most of the day," You hummed in understanding, your gaze meeting his.

"Want to try something else off the menu?" Simon's gaze lingered on you for a few seconds before he looked up at the menu displayed above you.

"Do you make coffee as good as tea?" Simon asked, a small smile playing on his lips as he leaned against the counter. You reciprocated with a confident grin.

"Of course, I do."

"Could I get a latte and a croissant?"

"Yeah, that will be 6.50."

After Simon paid, you prepared his order and set it on a tray in front of him. As he took a sip of his latte, he couldn't help but relish in how good it tasted. Despite not being much of a coffee guy, he could certainly become one if every cup tasted like this.

However, his enjoyment was interrupted when he noticed a car parking across the street. After five minutes of no one exiting the vehicle, he subtly glanced over. A sigh escaped him when he realized it was the man's car from earlier.

Questions raced through his mind. Why hadn't the man come inside? Was he waiting for him to leave to approach you? Or perhaps, was he waiting for you to finish work?

All these possibilities raced through Simon's mind, but one thing was certain. He wouldn't leave until he knew you were safe. Glancing at his watch, he noted that he had been there for around two hours already. He then looked at you, handing the next customer their order before they took a seat at the back of the cafe with their child.

"When do you get off of work, love?" Simon’s eyes glanced at the clock before returning to you.

"In about thirty minutes," Simon hummed thoughtfully, taking another sip of his drink. He turned his head to check if his car was still parked across the street, confirming that it was. The looming possibility that the man from earlier might try something when you got off work lingered in his mind.

As you wiped down the counter, the older woman who works the shift after you walked through the door. You engaged in a brief conversation with her before walking over to Simon.

"Are my lattes any good?" he was finishing the last bit of his croissant when you asked.

"Ten out of ten, love. You know your way around a good cup," you smiled proudly at him and Simon leaned foward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table.

"Don't look now, but the man from earlier, he's parked across the street," Your eyes grew a little wide, and you pulled out a chair, taking a seat across from him.

"How long has he been there?" you asked, a hint of worry in your voice.

Simon glanced at his clock and then back at you. "Ten, fifteen minutes." Your gaze went down to your hands, taking a deep breath before checking the clock.

"My shift ends in ten minutes," you muttered, glancing out through the window, noticing the car and the sun setting. "It's getting dark out too."

"Do you have a safe way home?" Simon sipped the last bit of coffee in his mug. You sighed and shook your head.

"I usually walk to work and back home." You pulled out your phone and opened the Uber app.

"I can just Uber home."

Simon almost let you do it, but the thought of the man possibly following the Uber car and attacking you at your door made him speak without thinking.

"I could walk you home." You looked up from your phone, eyebrows raised, and smiled, shaking your head.

"No, it's okay. I don't want to burden you with something like that."

"I don't mind, love. Wouldn't feel right if I didn't make sure you got home safe. Him coming back could be my fault; I did rough him up."

"You really think he’d try something?" Simon stood up from his chair.

"Wouldn't doubt it from a man like him. Probably should have punched him a few more times," he said, smiling down at you. You smiled back, shaking your head, appreciating the protective concern in Simon's eyes.

"The walk is about ten minutes, is that okay?" you asked, getting up from the chair and heading towards the door, with Simon following behind you.

"What direction?" as you both stepped out of the cafe you pointed towards the direction where Simon lives.

"Works out; I live in this direction too," You wrapped your coat around you tighter, feeling a chilly breeze against you.

"I'm glad," you quietly muttered out.

Simon smiled, looking down at you. "Glad it works out, or glad I live in this direction?"

You awkwardly looked away, berating yourself for not watching how you worded things. "Glad that it works out. I would feel bad if I made you walk far,"

"Good exercise," he remarked.

"Optimistic."

"Rarely."

You smiled, a subtle warmth in your gaze, and looked up at Simon for a few seconds before glancing away.

"Something on my face?" he asked.

"No," your smile lingering.

"Hm,"

He looked to his side, his face no longer in your view, and a small smile played on his lips. An unfamiliar sensation stirred deep in his stomach. It almost felt like his stomach was lifting. Was this what people meant when they say they have butterflies?

As you both walked, every few steps, your arms would occasionally brush against each other, and Simon found himself instinctively gravitating toward you.

“So, how was your day?” you quietly asked, genuine curiosity in your eyes.

“Same old, you know.”

“Oh, really? Mine was, um, pretty good. I found this cute dog on the internet. Almost wanted to adopt him.”

“Why didn't you?”

You shrugged, a thoughtful expression on your face. “I have a cat, and I don't know how she would respond to a dog in the house.” Simon hummed, nodding his head in understanding.

“Do you like dogs?”

Simon had been thinking about adopting a dog to put into the K-9 training unit so he could start taking them on missions with him. However he never really got around to the adoption process.

"Yeah, dogs are alright. Been thinking about getting one."

Excitement lit up your eyes, "Oh! Maybe I could write down the adoption website for you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I could check it out."

Simon glanced to his side as they passed by his house. Should he tell you where he lived? Since a man was potentially stalking you, it would probably be good if you knew where he lived for safety reasons, right?

“This is where I live,” Simon motioned to his house as you walked by. Your response was a casual hum, “When I overbake, I know who I'll give my extras to.”

A genuine smile adorned Simon's face as he looked down at you, and you continued your walk in a serene, comfortable silence. Despite the outward calm, Simon's thoughts churned in turmoil. The encounter with the man lingered in his mind, prompting questions about your well-being.

As the quiet street stretched before you, Simon's mind played out scenarios of the man taking more intrusive actions. What if he decided to break into your house? What if he caught you during your walk to work tomorrow? He glanced at his watch to check the day, and he internally sighed, realizing tomorrow was Saturday, and you don't work weekends.

It would still be good to have your number for safety reasons and safety reasons only. It's not like Simon wanted to talk about books with you or hear from you on the days you didn't work. Of course not, safety only.

Before he knew it, you slowed down and turned to him, pointing towards your house, "This is where I live." Simon's eyes roved over the vibrant array of colorful flowers in your front yard and the well-tended plants near your front door.

"Green thumb?" he asked with a teasing smile.

You laughed and nodded, "The greenest."

"Thank you for walking me home; I really appreciate you doing this,"

Now or never Simon.

Seizing the moment, Simon steeled himself. "No need to thank me, love… I did want to ask... if-"

Despite being a seasoned killer, a special ops soldier, and a lieutenant for Task Force 141, Simon found himself unexpectedly grappling with nerves as he attempted to ask for your number.

"Just... wondering if, you know, for safety reasons, I could have your number." he finally managed to articulate, his words carrying a hint of vulnerability.

A playful grin played on your face. "Safety reasons, huh?"

Simon scratched the back of his head, avoiding direct eye contact. "Well, you never know what that man will try. I only live a few houses down; I'd get to you quicker than if you called the police."

Your heart warmed, and you couldn't help but smile, finding Simon's awkwardness endearing. "Alright, for safety reasons then,"

Simon retrieved his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. As you navigated through his contacts app, a momentary surprise flashed across your face when you noticed he only had three contacts. Undeterred, you swiftly added your number to his phone and handed it back to him.

“I'll text you a link for that adoption website,” Simon nodded, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket.

You started walking up the little path to your front door, turning towards him with a genuine smile. “Thank you again for walking me home, Simon.”

“Of course,” his tone warm and reassuring.

When you unlocked your door, you turned back to him and waved, “Walk home safe.” Simon nodded, reciprocating the gesture, and you walked into your house, locking the door behind you. A smile that was almost too wide for your face lingered as Simon retraced his steps home. Pulling his phone out, he smiled when he saw your name now in his contacts.

547 notes · View notes

douceurrrr · 9 months

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 | 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

— you and camp counselor!ethan gets lost in the woods.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kissing, lil rough, doggy, fucked over table, begging, ethan’s pull out game being strong, oral (f), enemies to lovers

audio link

the sounds of cricket and owls fills your ear as you and ethan walk around the wood, branches cracking with each step. “I’m pretty sure we’re going in circles.” ethan huffed. “why do you say that?” you asked, following close behind him. “uh because we passed this tree like three time already.” he replied with an attitude.

you had first met ethan when you were interviewing for the open camp counselor position, you hadn’t got accepted to any colleges after high school and you needed a job so a camp counselor was like your last resort. ethan was smart enough for college but needed a job to pay for books and stuff. at first ethan wasn’t all that bad but he slowly became a dick.

“I thought you said you ‘knew’ where we were going.” he said with air quotes, glancing angrily at you. “I know where we’re going… maybe.” you told him with a nervous smile. “maybe? dude we’re lost and it’s your fault.” ethan says, shaking his head in disbelief. “oh my god, calm you whiny ass down.” you said making him even more angry. “oh I’m sorry your highness but do you know where the fuck we are right now?” he says with sarcasm. i mean at least you guys had flashlights.

“from now on we listen to me, not your shitty directional skills.” you fought the urge to beat his ass right then and there. “who pissed in your cereal this morning?” you said, rolling your eyes. ethan didn’t reply and just kept walking. “answer me, landry. what the fuck is your problem.” you said, pushing his shoulder. ethan sharply turned around. “my problem is obviously you, ever since I started working here you’ve been giving me shit for no reason.” ethan says and started walking again.

you shook your head. “no I haven’t.” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows. “ouu denial, I love it.” he says, sarcastically. “oh fuck off, landry.” ethan chuckled in reply making you blood boil. “you seriously have a complaining problem.” you mumbled but he obviously heard you. “I’ll complain if I want to, it’s better than hearing you talk.” he replied. you scoffed and kept walking.

“whatever, are we even going the right way dickface?” you asked with a smug look on your face. ethan just pointed somewhere so you pointed your flashlight to where he pointed to reveal a sign saying camping grounds

with a arrow pointing to the right. “trust me now?” ethan says, not earning a reply from you, you began walking in front of him. “holy shit.” ethan gasped, looking at your leg. “ethan don’t fuck with me right now.” you said, standing still in fear. “you have a medium sized cut on the back of your leg.” ethan told you. you turn your body to see behind you leg and lord behold there was blood running down your leg and onto your sock. “you must’ve done that when we went through the bushes, how did you not feel that?” he says, looking closely at the cut.

suddenly Ethan starts to walk towards you with his arms out. “whoa what are you doing.” you say, stepping back from him. “come on, I’ll carry you to the camping grounds and get my first aid kit.” he says, walking towards you again only for you to back up again. “don’t put your filthy hands on me, landry.” you warned knowing damn well you wanted the opposite. “stop being a brat and come on.” he huffed in annoyance but you finally gave in, letting him pick you up in bridal style and carry you towards the camp.

once he reached the camping grounds with you in his arms, he walks into the wooden room and sits you down on a table with your flashlight beside you. “I’ll go get the first aid kit.” ethan says before walking away into another little room. when he came back, he had the kit in his hand. he opened it, taking out two alcohol pads and a bandage. “this is gonna hurt.” he muttered as he opened a alcohol pad.

“fuck.” you hissed, grabbing ethan’s hand in reflex as ethan placed the alcohol pad on your wound. once ethan was done cleaning the wound he placed a bandage on it. once he looked up at you to see you looking at him with smug look. “what? you want me to kiss your boo boo?” he cooed, teasingly. ethan didn’t earn a reply from you so he leaned down and kissed your leg making you hiss. “you kissed it too hard landry.” you complained. even if you “hated” ethan, the kiss made your heart flutter a bit lot.

“thanks.” you said, lowy. ethan looked at you teasingly with his hand behind his ear, “what? say that again.” he says, acting like he couldn’t hear you. you rolled your eyes before speaking again, “I said thank you, landry.” you huffed.

ethan smiled, knowing he had won. “no problem, I told you I can be nice.” he chuckled.

you scoffed. “could’ve fooled me.” you grinned. ethan then looks down at his hand, noticing you still holding it. “ah you’re still holding my hand.” he says shyly. you muttered a sorry and looked down at your lap. “no it’s okay.” ethan whispered as he got closer to you. you didn’t noticed how close he was until you lifted your head back up to look at him, you could feel his breathing on you face. “look I’m sorry for being a asshole.” he look genuine and apologetic, you couldn’t be mad at that. “it’s okay, I was a bit of an asshole too.” you replied. ethan’s face started to get hot at the closeness between you two. “i-i don’t think I’ve ever been this close to you.” ethan whispered.

you couldn’t take it anymore and leaned forward to capture his lips on your. ethan’s hand comes up to rest on you waist as your hand come up to his hair, raking through it. “fuck.” ethan groaned when he pulls away. “since day one I’ve had a crush on you.” he confesses and you look at him surprisingly.

“I’ve tried to hide it but I can’t get enough of you.” he didn’t even give you time to respond when he smashes his lips against yours with a moan. he then pulls away again to say something else, “and I’m sorry about that time with the volleyball and I’m also sorry about the time I-”

“- just kiss me, landry.” you cut him off with a lustful kiss. you run your fingers through his hair, earning the sinful sounds from him. while you were in the kiss, you trail your other hand to the flashlights that was next you and turned them off so no one could see you two were in there. the kiss started to get steamy as ethan started touching you more. “mm wait ethan, m’all sweaty.” you whined as ethan started to kiss down your neck. “I don’t care.” he says into your neck.

after a little while, you push him back to discard your shirt. “cute bra, but we won’t be needing it.” ethan says. you then unclip the back of your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. “there, happy?” you smirked at the look on ethan’s face, he looked like a kid in a candy store. “very.” he says before bringing his hands to your tits, massaging them. your head threw back in ecstasy. he then decided to take it up a notch and started sucking on your nipples, earning more sounds from you.

“fuck landry, i guess you could do more things with that mouth than talk sh-” he cuts you off, biting down in your nipple which made you squeal. “take your shorts off, y/n.” he says seriously. you were amused by his tone. “hmm no.” you smirked. ethan scoffed, knowing what you wanted. “you’re really going to make me beg?” you nodded with a smile.

“please y/n, please take off your shorts.” you let out an satisfied hum, lifting your hips to take off your shorts. ethan sucked in his breath when he saw your black lacy underwear. “take that off too.” he groaned when you hooked your finger under the band, pulling them down. ethan then pulls your legs apart to rest onto the table. you gasp when you feel his tongue run across your slit, sliding the flat of it over your clit before swirling around it. you try to do something with your thighs but he has you pinned.

“fucking hell, landry.” you whisper, not wanting to be too loud. your head shoots back as the coil in your stomach starts to get intense. you place your fingers through ethan’s hair, pulling it before he moans into your cunt. he pays extra attention to your clit, sucking and swirling on it. ethan then pulls away, not taking it anymore. “shit bend over.” ethan whines. you do what he says, hoping off the table and bending over it. you hear a buckle rattling as ethan takes off the dumb khakis they made the boys wear. you felt the head of his cock slip through you slit and into your cunt, stretching you out.

“shit landry, you never gave off big dick vibes but i stand corrected.” you moaned as ethan started thrusting at a good pace. he hiked your right leg on the table, making him go deeper. the coil in your stomach started to progressively increase as ethan’s speed increased. “shit.” he grit, clawing at your hips. ethan’s head leaned back with his eyes closed, he was in heaven. “fuck landry, m’gonna cum.” you warned before he increased his thrust, helping you get there. with a couple of fuckfuckfuck’s you came around him, breathing heavily. ethan was right behind you, thrusting like his life depended on it. “holy fuck.” he pulls out, cumming all over your back.

ethan helped you get off the table and kisses you, passionately. “maybe we should sneak out often and have some fun.” you smirked at him, batting your eyelashes. as ethan gets his clothes back on he replies with a nods then leaves to find something to clean the cum off your back.

from then on, you stopped hating him.

#ethan landry x oc #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream 6 ethan landry #fanfic #imagine #scream 6 #ethan landry x black!reader #black!reader #woc #ethan landry x you

2K notes · View notes

empresskylo · 1 year

Text

ghost doesn’t realize how touch-starved he is until you are bandaging him up. inspired by this beauty and the beast scene

a/n: i am literally so horny for this man. i have never even played cod lmao. the men from the new campaign just started popping up on my tiktok feed and now here i am. so i apologize if this is ooc for ghost… like i said, i have no idea what this game is about. but i can’t get these big boys out of my head… making me go feral fr.

cw: blood

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader

wc: 1.3k

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓

Ghost laid propped against the wall as you dabbed his wound on his thigh with a cold, damp cloth. He hissed, slightly moving his leg away from your grip. “Hold still!”

You could hear him mumble swears under his breath as you continued to work. “For someone so big, you really are such a baby,” you teased lightly under your breath, the adrenaline rush making you a bit more confident with your lieutenant. “I told ya I can wait till we’re back at base,” his deep voice growled, his teeth clearly clenching as your fingers pried through the exposed tissue searching for the bullet lodged in the flesh.

“Don’t be an idiot. You’ll bleed out everywhere and I don’t want to have to clean it up. And if you pass out from the lack of blood, you really think I can carry you back?” You couldn’t see, but Ghost smiled under his mask at your sudden snarky remarks. He hadn’t seen this side of you before.

He grunted in response. Ghost’s eyes studied you, concentration flushing across your face as you worked at the opening in this thigh. You felt the pressure under his intense watch. His eyes traced up to your forehead where your hair was matted with blood. “Your head,” he muttered, his own hand pointing up by his eyebrow.

“Huh?” you asked, tearing your eyes away to look at him. You mirrored him and reached a hand up and grazed your brow then looked back at your fingers. They were red. “Oh. I… Must have hit my head.” Everything had happened so fast, you didn’t even remember getting hurt.

“You should-“ Ghost began before you interrupted.

“I’ll be fine . I need to get the bullet out of you first. So, for the last time, quit moving!”

Ghost chuckled, “Sound like me.” You rolled your eyes, hearing the irony as you repeated the same thing Ghost had said to you earlier: I’ll be fine.

Your hands were covered in Ghost’s blood as you worked to remove the tiny bullet. Ghost sat perfectly still. You glanced up at him, his face stoic under his mask as he observed, still as he could be. Apparently, he did know how to listen.

“Just pull the damn thing out,” he grunted. You finally got ahold of the metal and tore it from his thigh. You held it up in success, a slight smile on your face.

“I was about to get it out anyways, this has nothing to do with your demands.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he adjusted his position.

Your fingers danced along his exposed skin as you began to apply a bandage to his open wound. Ghost could feel goosebumps rise where your fingers trailed. His body focused on the movement of your fingers, he couldn’t even feel the pain he should definitely be feeling right now.

After you finished, you rested your hands on his thigh a few inches above your work and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. “ There ,” you said with relief. Ghost’s ears pinked under his mask, your warm touch radiating through his trousers, your hands a little too high up for comfort. You, however, hadn’t noticed the intimacy of your touch.

You shifted your stance and sat facing Ghost. You held out a clean cloth, wanting him to clean the cut that sliced through your forehead. He stared at you. You rolled your eyes. Did you have to explain everything? “I can’t see,” you said, pointing to your forehead. Ghost reluctantly took one of his gloves off and grabbed the wet linen from you. You leaned closer and closed your eyes. Ghost swallowed hard. He slowly brought his hand up to the cut that ran from your hairline and right through your eyebrow. After dabbing away the blood you handed him a bandage and some bandage tape. Ghost huffed. “I’m not your bloody nurse.”

“I’m not yours either but you didn’t see me complaining,” you retorted. Ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and slipped off his other glove than took the supplies from you. He was familiar with treating injuries, at least until the person was able to get seen by a proper medical professional. So why was he suddenly acting flustered?

His hand gently rested on your forehead as he lined the bandage up. He couldn’t avoid touching your skin, his fingers being pulled towards you against his better judgment. Your skin felt like fire beneath his fingertips. Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he touched someone this gently. He took the ripped bits of tape and secured the bandage in place. His fingers lingered, then softly skimmed the side of your face and fluttered through your hair. How he missed the warm feeling he got when he caressed someone so delicately. He was so used to vulgar aggressiveness, he almost forgot that he was capable of such embraces. You kept your eyes shut even though you wanted to open them in surprise at Ghost’s lingering touch. Having been away from everyone in your life for so long made you desperate for someone to squeeze you tight. To hold you close. To just keep your bed warm beside you. You hadn’t even realized how deprived of touch you truly were until Ghost touched you with his calloused hands.

You opened your eyes and Ghost’s own locked on yours, both of your breathing the only sound in the small room. He quickly yanked his hand away, clearly embarrassed. He’d curse his hand out later for having a mind of its own. He flexed his hand, rubbing it with his other. He debated on apologizing but found it hard to speak. Before he could finish his thought, you grabbed his wrist.

He mumbled your name, his accent dripping over his words heavier than usual. His gaze was always so intense, but you didn’t back down.

He froze as he watched you, curious of your next move. You both had understood what happened without even speaking—a sort of silent acknowledgment of the way you both were touch-starved, the only connection with another body prior to this being through violence.

You scooted closer to him and pulled his arm so it draped around your shoulder. You tentatively leaned against his chest, feeling his breathing deepen. Ghost felt tense underneath you, his body rigid. Feeling bold and empty, you grabbed his hand and laced it with yours, the heat transfer from holding someone skin to skin a feeling you hadn’t experienced in months. It was comforting and relieving. As much as it flustered Ghost, he also felt a huge feeling of relief as your hands warmed against one another. His fingers closed and gripped your hand back. You could feel him slightly relax, his body molding to yours.

He could smell your shampoo as your head sat propped under his chin. When was the last time he held someone like this? He couldn’t quite remember. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about these types of things until now.

After a long pause, you felt Ghosts chest rumble as he spoke. “I think this is the longest you’ve gone without rambling on about somethin’.”

Your lips quirked up in a slight smile. You both knew things were going to be awkward the moment you faced each other and made your way back to base. Ghost was especially concerned with the fact that one of his soldiers would know how weak he had acted.

But with both of your faces out of view from the other, softly intertwined, everything felt… good .

“Mhm, don’t get used to it,” you said quietly. Ghost could hear the sleep in your speech. He pondered a moment. At least you were both safely inside the building having already prowled the area for enemies. Maybe it was okay if he let you rest a minute? And not because Ghost didn’t want to break away from your hold, but because both of you were wounded and he knew better than to push through something like that when he had the time to regain his strength.

Ghost hadn’t realized his thumb began absentmindedly stroking circles against your skin, his grip around you tightening slightly.

part 2

#ghost #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #fluff #angst #ghost angst #cod mw2

6K notes · View notes