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7s3ven · 4 months

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NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 1

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N, after spending a decade at Camp Half-Blood, still remains unclaimed. Luckily, Luke is there to keep her company as her good friend. And to, perhaps, provide a bit more.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : fighting, violence, a little too much of a description about injuries

—

Nobody had been this excited about a new kid since three years ago, when a H/C-haired girl showed up holding a Harpy’s head. The new arrival had slain a Minotaur, which Clarisse wasn’t too happy about. She was convinced he was a liar.

Y/N sat in the Hermes cabin, closely inspecting her empty juice box. She had waken up an hour ago yet her good friend, Luke, still woke up earlier. She always wondered where he went in the early morning. Perhaps to get some sword training in before the day started. He was, after all, the best swordsman in camp.

The rays of sun poured through the window, bathing the wooden floor in light. A few of the Hermes kids groaned, knowing Luke would burst through the doors any second and force them to get up. He always did when the sun rose.

As expected, Luke kicked the door open. “Good morning!” He exclaimed, as energetic as ever. “The new kid’s coming today so get up and start cleaning! I’m mainly talking to you guys.” Luke sent the group in the corner a stern look and added, “Y/N, you’re fine.” He pointed at her with his usual boyish grin.

Lately, Y/N had been sleeping in Luke’s bed while he slept on the floor. They took turns switching. Lying on the ground for more than a decade now wasn’t good for the back.

After all this time, Y/N was still unclaimed. It usually took a week or less. Y/N was a prime example of the Gods above ignoring their children.

“He’s the one who killed the Minotaur, right?” Y/N questioned as Luke collapsed onto his mattress, partly to annoy Y/N who was sitting on it. The H/C-haired girl scoffed and playfully rolled her eyes, yet she couldn’t contain the amused smile on her face.

“Yeah. He can join your little monster slaying group. Let’s hope he gets claimed because I can’t deal with a boy version of you.” Luke teasingly grinned while Y/N scoffed and slapped his shoulder.

“You love my company.” She uttered, rolling her eyes.

Luke’s friends snickered to themselves. “More like he loves you.” One whispered to another.

“What’s his name again?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. “Was it… Tom?” Luke stared at her in disbelief before lightly snorting.

“You’re way off, Y/N. Stop thinking, you’ll hurt that tiny brain of your’s. Just do what you do best; sit still and look cute.” Luke ruffled her tidy hair, turning it into a bird’s nest again.

Y/N flung a pillow at him, and glowered at the Hermes boy. “I’m going to kick your ass in capture the flag.” She threatened, poking his shoulder. Clarisse, out of all people, was her best friend. So naturally, she teamed up with her.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, princess.” Luke lightly shoved her which caused Y/N to gasp in disbelief.

“Don’t push a lady, Luke!”

The other campers, already used to their antics, just chuckled. “Hey, love birds!” One of the unclaimed kids exclaimed. “Get a room!” With her smart she was, Y/N assumed she was Athena’s child.

Y/N and Luke liked to play a silly game where they guessed which camper belonged to which godly parent. It was fun. Luke was never wrong until the day he tried to guess Y/N’s.

A year ago, he guessed Aphrodite. His explanation? Because she was charming and she had a certain aura that followed her. And because she was pretty. That was the only time he was wrong because Y/N never ended up in a cabin.

“So, what do you think of the new kid? Which cabin?” Y/N asked as she and Luke walked outside. He shoved his hands into his pockets, laughing.

“Tough call. I haven’t even met him yet. Apollo, maybe?” Luke shrugged and frowned. “I’ll tell ya my guess when I see him.”

“I’m guessing… Poseidon.” Y/N uttered, earning a light snort from Luke.

“No way. Is that your confirmed guess? Being a child of Poseidon would mean being a forbidden child.”

The game had a few rules.

One. You can only take a single guess and once you confirm it, you can’t change it.

Two. You can’t ask the kid you’re talking about. Luke considers that cheating. You can only observe them.

Three. No asking Annabeth because she’s always right.

“I guess. It’s not like I ever win, right?” Y/N laughed, grinning at Luke. He stared at her for a moment before returning her bright smile.

“I know we don’t usually make bets, but if your guess turns out right, I’ll willingly give up in the next capture the flag game after he’s claimed.” Luke puffed out his chest, certain Y/N wouldn’t win.

“And if you win?” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You give me your strawberries.” Luke had an obsession with strawberries that everybody, even the gods above, knew about.

“You’re on, Luke.” Y/N held out her hand with her lips curved up into a teasing smirk.

“Good luck, princess. Looks like I’ll be taking all your strawberries.” Luke ran his tongue over his teeth, already being able to taste the sweet, red fruit in his mouth.

He walked off, playfully winking at Y/N. Clarisse, who saw the whole conversation go down, hurried over to Y/N. “Looks like you and lover boy have a bet going in.” She smirked, raising both her eyebrows. “You two are cute together.”

“Don’t mess with me, Clari. We’re just friends.” Y/N rolled her eyes at what her friend was suggesting. She had been friends with Luke for three years now and she had known him for even longer.

“Are you just friends… or you want to be more?” Clarisse leaned forward with that taunting glint in her beautiful eyes. Y/N groaned, shoving her away. Clarisse simply laughed. “Come on, princess.” She mocked.

“Oh, come on, Risse.” That was a horrid nickname given to Clarisse by an Apollo boy who seemed to be obsessed with her.

“Shut up!” Clarisse exclaimed, eyeing Y/N up and down in disgust as if she was the Apollo boy. “You know how I feel about him!”

“And you know how I feel about Luke.”

“Yeah… but do you?” Clarisse tilted her head to the side before her gaze flickered to something, or rather someone, behind Y/N. “The Minotaur kid is out.” She grumbled and sharply clicked her tongue.

“Great. I can see if my stupid guess was correct.” Y/N glanced over her shoulder, watching the boy walk beside Chiron. His hair was curled, much like Luke’s, and blond. Clarisse had wandered off in the midst of Y/N’s staring, but she didn’t mind.

Suddenly, the boy lifted his head. His eyes clashed with Y/N’s, and he almost jumped at how intensely she was staring at him. Y/N merely smiled before turning away.

“So, what do you think?” She asked Luke as they walked towards the Hermes cabin side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other.

“Hard to say for now.” Luke replied. Y/N looked at him and he stared back before the pair burst into quiet laughter. Just locking eyes could make two friends find anything hilarious.

“I assume you’ll take him under your wing? Good luck.” Y/N nudged him with her elbow, which seemed to be a normal gesture between them.

“Thanks, princess. See ya.”

Y/N turned around, almost crashing into a disoriented Percy Jackson. He seemed jumpy and panicked. Of course, how couldn’t he be? He had just unknowingly killed a monster and his mother had been taken.

“Hi. The first day is always rough. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Y/N muttered to him before she passed by.

She didn’t stick around to hear Chiron announce him. She sighed, wandering aimlessly around the camp. She saw Clarisse talking to her siblings. Y/N had always wondered what it was like to have siblings you could relate to. What did it feel like to understand each other? To go through the same difficulties?

The Hermes cabin was comfortable and friendly enough but it wasn’t the same. She wanted to feel what a true family felt like, or at least was supposed to.

As Y/N had expected, Luke was the first to talk to Percy.

“I’m Luke.” He introduced himself to the boy after the rocky start to their conversation.

“Percy. Hey, uh, who was that girl before? The H/C-haired one?” He questioned, clearing his throat.

“Y/N. She’s nice most of the time the time but a pain in the ass during capture the flag.” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m just kidding. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”

“You guys seem close.” Percy uttered, remembering the way Luke looked at Y/N when they talked.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend. Unfortunately for me, her best friend is an aggressive Ares kid.” He grinned, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Feel free to lie down anywhere. Just don’t get too close to Y/N. If she’s having a monster dream, she kicks in her sleep.”

One of the campers across the cabin groaned. “I know how that feels. The bruise lasted for weeks!” The others burst into laughter while Percy hurriedly made a mental note.

Avoid the pretty girl when she sleeps.

Percy was lucky that Y/N, who lay on the floor a few feet away from him, wasn’t having one of her infamous nightmares. He couldn’t say the same for himself, though.

Percy sat up, panting and sweating. He looked around, realising where he was. Birds chirped in the distant and he could hear the faint sound of chatter through the wooden walls.

“You okay?” Luke asked.

“Super.” Percy sarcastically responded.

“We all have them here, you know.” Luke clicked his tongue and sighed. “Intense, reoccurring nightmares. That’s normal here. Take Y/N for example. When she first came here, no one wanted to get near her while she slept. Girl’s a bloody good kicker.”

Percy lightly chuckled while Luke smiled. “The daydreams and ADHA and dyslexia are normal too. Demigods just process reality differently than humans do. For the first time in your life, you’re just like everyone else.”

“So, are you also…” Percy trailed off, not wanting to sound rude to his first friend at camp.

Luke found his hesitation amusing. “Am I unclaimed? No. Hermes is my father.”

“And Y/N? Is her father also Hermes?”

Luke scrunched up his face like he had just eaten a sour lemon. “Oh, no. Heck no. Y/N’s unclaimed… still. She has been for a while.” The brunette pressed his lips into a thin line as he gazed at Y/N, who was laughing with Clarisse.

“Why hasn’t Aphrodite claimed her? I mean, she looks the part.”

“That’s what we’re all asking ourselves. We all thought she’d be Aphrodite’s kid.”

Boys and girls flocked towards Y/N like she was a muse. It was no secret that out of all the campers, Y/N stood out the most. There was something unique about her, how she always hung around the aggressive Ares kids like she wanted to be one of them.

She was a tough opponent but a little too soft for Ares’ liking.

Too gentle for Ares but too angry for Aphrodite. She was constantly stuck in the middle. It almost seemed like no god or goddess wanted her in their cabin because she had proved herself over and over again.

“How long has she been unclaimed?” Percy inquired. Kids before him had asked that very same question and every time, they were never ready for the answer.

“A decade.” Luke replied, “She’s been here for a decade. Last year, there was a stupid rumour going around that she was fully mortal but that doesn’t make sense. If she was, she wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“Why so long?”

“Nobody knows.” Luke shrugged. He had wondered that too. And he could see how it was weighing down on Y/N. The unclaimed kid was what campers referred to her as. They used her as an example of what not to do.

“Will she ever get claimed?”

Luke hoped she would. For her sake. He knew how she felt about not having a related family of her own. For now, she was satisfied laughing over silly tales with the Hermes kids.

“So, where does she go during the day? She disappeared yesterday and today.” Percy tilted his head to the side, not being able to spot Y/N anymore. Luke paused. It was uncommon for him to not have an answer to everything.

“I… don’t know. I assume Clarisse and her go somewhere.”

“Probably swimming in the lake.” Grover said, overhearing the two’s conversation.

It was scorching during Summer at Camp Half-Blood. Most stayed in the shade while an occasional kid or two tended to the plants. So it would make sense that Y/N would go to a lake to cool off.

Luke left Percy in the company of Grover and made his way towards the Lake in the middle of the forest. As Grover guessed, he found Y/N and Clarisse and a few other Ares kids swimming in the water or sitting on the nearby rocks.

“Hey, Y/N, your lover boy is here!” One of them exclaimed. Y/N, from her spot in the middle of the lake, glared at him. She huffed before swimming over to Luke, easily heaving herself onto shore.

“Hey, Luke, ready to make your guess yet?” She asked, grinning up at him. “Or do you wanna swim?”

“My guess is definitely not Hephaestus.” Luke said as he sat down in front of Y/N. His gaze flickered to her new swimsuit. “New bathing suit?”

“Yeah. Miya got it for me.” Miya was a child of Aphrodite and favored Y/N quite a lot.

“Ah. No wonder it’s so…” Luke hesitated, “Revealing.” He tried to act like a gentleman but his cheeks flushed every time he even looked at Y/N.

“One more day until I kick your ass.” Y/N laughed as she sank back into the water, returning a moment later with her hair dripping wet and her face shining in the sunlight. She looked effortlessly angelic.

“Are you sure you’re ready to handle Y/N again, Luke? She almost beat you last time.” Clarisse snickered as she floated on her back.

Luke scoffed. “Keyword. Almost.” It was true that Y/N had almost beaten him in his own game of sword fighting but that was because she was becoming increasingly more distracting.

Gone was the shy and quiet kid who always trailed behind Clarisse. With every passing year, Y/N became more headstrong and, well, beautiful. That’s why it was so hard for Luke to keep his feelings to himself now. Even Clarisse could see through his facade.

“I’m ready to make my guess.” Luke finally announced, catching Y/N’s wavering attention. She arched an eyebrow, intrigued. “My guess… is Demeter. I met the kid and he seems gentle. A soft and kind soul.”

“Nice. I guess we’ll find out soon.” Y/N’s guess was nothing but a joke and she’d end up laughing if she was actually correct.

“Join me for a little swim?” Y/N asked, reaching out to tug on Luke’s shirt. He sighed while Y/N merely smiled. A moment later, he gave in. Luke lifted his shirt over his head while Y/N stared at him a little too shamelessly for her liking. Some of the Ares boys teasingly wolf-whistled which made Luke chuckle.

He jumped into the lake, practically tackling Y/N and taking her under with him. “Luke!” She yelled, hitting his shoulder when they resurfaced.

“Oh no. The married couple is fighting again.” Zyra, Clarisse’s half-sister, said. She and Clarisse shared a knowing grin.

“They’re so whipped.” Clarisse whispered, subtly swimming away to give the two more space.

It was the day Y/N had eagerly been waiting for. Perhaps her favourite day at Camp. Capture the flag day.

Clarisse handed Y/N a spear. “I got it fixed for you.” The brunette said. During the last game, Y/N’s spear had broken. She was forced to fight with half of it after that.

Y/N adjusted Clarisse’s armour, ensuring that it was tight enough before putting on her own helmet.

“You’re gonna love this.” She overhead Luke say to Percy as they passed by. “Camp-wide mock warfare. All glory to the victors. Annabeth’s the head counsellor. She’s led our team to three straight wins.”

Y/N looked away, giving Luke the perfect chance to gaze over at her. “Y/N and Clarisse lead the other team. Clarisse is rather… impulsive, though. Y/N’s come up with some good plans but Ares kids always go off the rails.”

“What’s the deal with you and Y/N anyway?” Percy suddenly switched the topic, much to Luke’s surprise. “I mean, you guys say you’re just friends but you’re always looking at each other. And talking. And you stare at her like she’s your world. Sometimes I wish I could look at someone like that.” Percy sighed while Luke was left speechless.

Luke cleared his throat and shook his head. “Let’s just… focus on the game.”

The conch shell blew. Y/N stood side Clarisse, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Heroes, it’s time.” Chiron announced. “The game begins. The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor. As always, there will be no maiming and no killing. I trust these rules will be respected.”

He subtly glanced over at Clarisse and her cabin.

“Let the games begin.”

There was twenty minutes until the next conch shell, which meant game-on. Normally, Clarisse and Y/N would pair up and hunt through the woods for the first few hours. But Clarisse had a different idea this time.

“Good luck.” Y/N said to her friend, slinging her spear over her shoulder. Y/N split up with the rest of her team, taking with her small portion of campers.

“We follow Clarisse’s plan this time. We’re the last defense meaning that if the blue team manages to get through, we fight like our lives depend on it.” Y/N said as she gripped her spear tightly.

“What are going to do?” Someone else asked.

“I’m going to…. look around.”

Luke grunted as a sword piercing his upper arm. He easily disarmed his opponent and kicked them to the ground.

“We give up.” The red leader grumbled, wincing as their brushed their fingers over his cuts.

“I wanna move quick. Straight through the woods for their flag.” Luke uttered.

“Y/N and Clarisse hunt in those woods for the first few hours, you know that. They’ll cut us down.”

Luke grinned, shaking his head. “Annabeth has a plan for Clarisse. And Y/N, as always, is mine. Don’t worry about her.”

“Last time I didn’t worry about her, she almost chopped my head off. By accident!” Chris loudly exclaimed, shoving Luke. Unbeknownst to the pair, Y/N was watching from above in the trees, hidden by the thick leaves.

She skilfully hopped from branch to branch, sliding down in front of her teammates. “The blue team is coming. They got past the other defences. Get in position.” Y/N hid behind a thick tree branch, panting and listening carefully for the sound of Luke’s voice.

She heard a twig snap and peeked her head out slightly to see Luke, Chris, and the rest of their small team. Y/N looked up, signalling to her friends above that it was almost time.

The moment Luke, who was leading the pack, stepped right where Y/N wanted him, she revealed herself. “Now!” She shouted, raising her spear and striking Luke. He easily blocked her attack.

“Thought you could ambush us, princess? Nice try.” Luke chuckled, pushing Y/N back.

“I’d say that it worked just fine.” Y/N retorted, lunging at Luke again. She pinned him to a nearby tree, holding the blade of her spear to his throat.

Chris grabbed Y/N by her shirt, pulling her back. Luke swung his sword at her but Y/N simply ducked to avoid the blow.

She tried to run off to help her teammates but Luke blocked her path. “Where do you think you’re going?” He uttered, playfully furrowing his eyebrows.

Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She pointed at spear at his chest, poking it ever so slightly. “Ready to give up, Luke?”

“In your dreams.” He rolled over, latching onto Y/N’s arm and pulling her down with him. Y/N yelped, quickly scrambling up before he could grab her again.

She looked around at her surroundings, finally understanding what Luke’s plan was. It was to keep Y/N away from her team so that Luke’s could take them down. That left Y/N solely alone, standing between the flag and the blue team.

She panted, glaring at Luke. “Bring it on, Luke.” She muttered, holding up her spear. Luke was the first to make a move. He jumped at her, swinging his blade. Y/N dodged it and blocked another attack from Chris.

She quickly lowered her head, tackling another Hermes kid. Y/N rolled across the floor, swiftly standing up. “You won’t be getting near that flag on my watch.” She kicked Luke and whacked Chris. One of the Athena girls launched herself at Y/N, gripping onto her leg.

Y/N shook her off but the girl’s weight caused her to topple over. The bits of debris grazed at her skin. Chris swung his sword, slashing at Y/N. The blade cut her lower arm and blood welled up from the slit.

Quietly groaning, Y/N heaved herself up. She lightly swayed, unbalanced and a little weak. “Like I said,” She murmured, “You aren’t getting that flag.”

Y/N blocked every attack and blow aimed her way but she was getting slow. She could barely lift her weapon fast enough to stop Luke from successfully landing a hit.

Everything was becoming too overwhelming as she struggled to keep up. It was all a fast blur filled with weapons violently clashing against each other and shouting.

Up above, thunder crashed and lightning flickered through the darkening sky. Rain poured down, drenching the campers.

The thunder got louder and the lightning brighter as the seconds passed until nobody could ignore it. A harsh flash of lightning hit a tree nearby, setting it alight.

“Y/N, watch out!” Luke shouted, reaching out. Strings of electricity rippled around Y/N as a burning tree branch fell towards her. Luke sprinted towards her, dropping his sword in the process. He tackled Y/N, shielding her from harm’s way.

She groaned as she hit her head, black dots swirling around in her vision. She felt numb and her head lolled to the side as she heard shouts of victory followed by gasps of surprise.

“Y/N L/N has been claimed by Zeus, the king of Gods and the God of thunder and ruler of the sky.”

#percy jackson series #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x you #one shot #percy jackson fanfiction #demigods #romance #zeus #greek mythology #roman mythology #annabeth chase #grover underwood

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janaispunk · 1 month

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come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up.

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality.

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move.

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine.

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff.

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.”

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different.

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?”

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking.

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?”

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking.

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.”

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal.

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance.

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising.

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach.

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake.

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize.

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself.

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast.

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all.

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?”

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile.

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers.

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?”

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?”

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.”

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move.

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.”

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back.

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding.

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again”

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you.

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine.

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts.

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait.

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.”

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.”

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her.

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him.

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story.

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom.

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies.

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well.

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?”

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity.

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective.

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask.

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table.

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something.

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?”

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction.

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze.

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more.

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face.

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast.

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?”

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red.

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night.

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story.

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile.

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs.

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

#fic: safe and sound #janas fics #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

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a-aexotic · 1 year

Note

i loved grumpy rafe and sunshine reader!! would love to see more of them <3

pairing. rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings. mentions of partying, alcohol, hung-over, and also so much fluff that u might just have a heartattack.

summary. hung-over rafe's cure is your cuddles, unforunately for you.

ren's notes ! dude i love soft rafe i would write a whole series on him, also rafe w/ a buzzcut makes me absolutely feral.

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

part 1 !!

Last night was a haze for Rafe. You and Rafe had gotten invited to Kelce’s birthday party, and per usual, it was crazy. All Rafe could remember was a cocktail of some sorts with Dr. Pepper, vodka, half of a Starbucks Strawberry Acai and dried blueberries. He remembers throwing Topper in the pool for ‘accidentally’ touching your shoulder and accidentally tripping you causing you to fall in the pool on top of Topper. Rafe followed soon after that.

It was a weird blur after that. He doesn’t remember anything else that happened.

He was sleeping comfortably in your bed, snoring away as you got up early to make some breakfast. You weren’t hungover; you barely had anything to drink. Rafe, on the other hand, had 5 drinks of Kelce’s special cocktail. You had to drive Rafe back to your house because you knew Ward would kill him (and you) because of how absolutely shit faced his son was. So you concluded that the best idea was for him to sleep over. Which was a bad idea on your part.

You had gotten the worst sleep ever. Rafe slept directly on top for three straight hours, your arms going numb. Every time you moved, he’d squeeze harder. When he eventually moved, he took all the sheets with him.

You went back up to your dark bedroom after making breakfast, opening the door and opening the blinds. You heard Rafe groan, moving the sheets over his face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.”

Rafe grumbled in response, making you smile in amusement. “Come on, get up babe. I made your favorite.”

“Crepes?” Rafe finally removed the sheets, peeking his head to watch you.

“Uh, no. I made pancakes, though. That’s pretty close.”

Rafe yawned and sat up. “No, crepes are better.”

You glared at your boyfriend, “I’m not your maid, Rafe. Take it or starve.”

Rafe had a small teasing smile on his face at your reaction. “Okay, calm down. I’ll eat them.”

You rolled your eyes and he got up from the bed, coming to you. “You know I only tease you cus I love you, right?”

You smiled at him. “Since when is Rafe Cameron a romantic?”

“Since I met you, babe.” He scrunched his nose at his words, cringing.

You laughed, then grabbed his shoulders and gave him a kiss on cheek. “Come on, my pancakes are going to get cold.”

You and Rafe sat at the dining table, eating the breakfast you had made. You noticed Rafe wasn’t talking that much but you just assumed it was because he was beyond hungover. After breakfast, Rafe excused himself back to your bedroom to sleep some more.

After finishing up the dishes you went up to go sleep with Rafe. As you walked in, you looked over at Rafe and realized he wasn’t asleep.

“Hey. You okay?”

He looked very grumpy and you know that means one thing; cuddles. Rafe would never ever admit this (not even to himself, at times) but the best cure to his grumpy moods is your cuddles.

“My head hurts. Remind me never to drink again.”

You laughed at his statement, knowing next weekend it was all going to happen again no matter how many times he preached it.

“Alright Rafey, do you want some aspirin?”

He shook his head, “I already took some.”

“What would make you feel better then, babe?”

He looked over at you and that was his silent way of saying cuddles. Usually, you would force him to spell it out for you but you knew if you pulled that right now, he would rip your head off. You nodded and walked over to the bed, getting in and moving close to Rafe.

You opened your arms and he moved so he could be right next to you, moving his head to your chest as he laid. Your hand was on his back, drawing circles absentmindedly; you always did that out of pure habit but it was one of Rafe’s favorite things. It never failed to comfort him.

He sighed contently in your embrace, finally feeling the headache fade away as comfort settled in.

You kissed his head, “does that make your boo-boo feel better?”

He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, making your chest heave as you laughed to yourself. Then, Rafe decided he wasn’t close enough to you so he moved his leg on top of yours, as he moved himself completely so he could be almost on top of you. It was his favorite cuddling position. It wasn’t your complete favorite because you were one move away from choking and passing out in your sleep, but you’d do anything for Rafe. Even if it meant dying in your sleep due to his abnormal cuddling styles.

Rafe fell asleep like a baby in your warm embrace and you eventually did, too. Rafe loved you but he loved your cuddling a tiny bit more.

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marcsburnerphone · 9 months

Text

Wish I never came

Captain john price x f!reader

Summary: being johns wife has been full of security and safety and you never thought he’d be the one to taint that.

Warnings: angst(why doesn’t anyone write about how scary price can be when hes angry peepaw is cra), hurt/comfort, 141 task force loves you, price is fucking scary.

Part 2 out now!

—-------------------

Every first friday of the month you bring the boys and your husband a homemade meal to base. It’s been tradition for almost two years now since the first time you did it on a whim, John begged you for a good roast so you surprised him with some and since there was so much you’d brought the rest for his task.

Today you've perfected the dish gaz asked for, they decided rotations on requests now because it became unfair when soap requested meals only he liked 4 months in a row.

You packed all 4 meals in airtight thermal containers and put them in the car before heading towards base about 2 hours away. The military police men greeted you by first name when you arrived and buzzed you in.

“I've never been happier to see someone in my life.” soap rushes you and traps you in a hug while gaz takes the two bags from your hands.

“Good afternoon, wheres simon and john?” you greet both of them with smiles something that was relieving to see in a place like this. The common area was empty during this time of day so it was clear they weren't here.

Before they could answer simon came in, eyes looking more exhausted than usual. He gives a weak attempt at an ‘hello love’ a common and yet sweet name they’d picked up for you.

“I honestly wouldn't go into his office right now hes a little um on edge i’d say.” he grabs his thermal bowl from the bag its always the black one, this way they dont fight over which bowl has more.

“Nonsense simon he’s my husband, im just going to bring him this and be on my way.” simon shook his head turning a satisfied groan at the taste of real food in his mouth to a disapproving one at your persistence.

“love maybe listen he’s under a lot of pressure right now, its really not the time.” gaz interrupts simons beginning of a sentence.

Without another word you just grab his bowl and a fork setting off torwars his office which at this point you could get to blind.

“Are we just going to let her do that.” gaz looks to the two men.

“We warned and she’s right thats her husband i mean worst he’ll do is ignore her, loves her too much to hurt her.” ghost grumbles.

—

The air is tense on your way down the hall but you approach his door regardless as the familiar scent of a lit cigar fills your senses. You give two knocks before walking in.

“Hey just brought you some lunch.” you say quietly as you walk in observing the splay of files on the floor and desk.

He grunts and doesn't even spare you a look which yeah it stings but it was expected.

“Okay then can I leave it right here?” you point at a spot on a coffee table thats somewhat clear.

“Do whatever you want with it, mm not hungry.” he says lowly while taking another drag from his cigar letting the ash fall freely.

“So should i just leave it in the kitchen, i can just-.” you didn't know why you were rambling or nervous even john had only ever made you feel safe.

“I fuckin said do what you please with it, I’m busy.” the tone made you shiver, and yes maybe you should've just left it and talked to him later but this wasn't a behavior from him you've ever experienced.

“John I-”

“Jesus fucking christ take the food, leave the food I dont fucking care but get the fuck out of here as soon as you can thankyou!” His voice makes you flinch as he throws a stack of papers on the floor with an unneeded force, he yelled at you for the first time ever and you couldn't even process it. Was time bending or had the air become thin, you didn't know but you took a few weary steps back towards the door and left the food by the entrance on the floor finally closing it, once you were back in the hallway air found it’s way to your lungs as you took a deep breath.

“Hey its okay come on.” gaz was there gently caressing your arm along with the two others catching up behind him in the distance.

They never thought hed talk to you like that but right when they heard that deep threatening drawl boom from the common area gaz was the first one up and out. He was always overly protective of you.

You weren't crying, no but you wanted to. You just closed your eyes for what felt like ages and whispered an ‘I’m okay’ and left without another word.

Once you reached the comfort of your own car your heart caught up with the speed of your brain and tears poured, the last time you’d cried like this had been in childhood. Without another second you sped around the lot and out of the exiting gates wishing you'd never entered them in the first place.

You got a call not so long into your way home, maybe five minutes if you estimated correctly and you almost gagged at the picture of you and john that popped up as he rang you.

The boys were the ones to call next but you just dazed out on the long road ahead, disassociated from the outside world around you. You stopped at a cafe you particularly enjoyed in a town near your home needing to clear your thoughts.

Price had waited and even started counting seconds to see if you'd pop up on the ring camera he installed to keep an eye on you, it brought him comfort especially when you'd make cute gestures at it or talk to him through it as you brought groceries inside. But now you should've been home an hour ago at most and still no sign of you.

He had not comprehended how loud he could get and he really only snapped out of it when soap appeared in his office with a very disapproving look. Then he finally noticed the look of fear in your eyes or how the sweet smile you always wore was a frown and then his gaze made it to the container he’d grown so familiar with by the door.

“FUCK!” he could cry grown man tears, he spoke to you how he sometimes speaks to his soldiers and the strings in his heart felt like they were on the verge of combusting.

“You fucked up captain.” soap added to the fuel before leaving his office.

—----------------

Anyone feel that chest pain.

Re-blogs and feedback are appreciated 🫶

#captain price #john price #task 141 #captain price x female reader #barry sloane #john price x female reader #angst #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish

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pshcomforts · 1 month

Text

➳ only | psh. — requested

idol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“be my only one”

synopsis: you get your period on an unexpected day, and find your boyfriend, park sunghoon, a little more annoying than usual when he comes home early from practice.

warnings/content: written in third pov. slightly angsty but more fluffy fluff! sunghoon’s down bad <3 and reader has a lot of mood swings. reader’s a little mean. not proofread (i’m sorry if it’s bad).

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.9k

a/n: message request. — this was a little rushed so i’m sorry if it’s not that good </3

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: only by leehi

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:40 ─────────|────────── -2:19

“are you kidding me?” y/n annoyingly huffed at the sight in front of her.

her stomach furiously grumbled as she sighed and reached for a pad in the cabinet drawer.

“i actually started.., great!” she sarcastically beamed with an eye roll to herself, ignoring the small amount of pads left.

a quick change of undergarments was made in the bathroom, making her feel ever so slightly better about starting her period.

the girl left the bathroom and almost instantly, was hit with a mound of cramps. her hands quickly clenched onto her abdomen, face scrunching in pain while trying to find some sort of pain killer.

swiftly, she downed the pills as if her life depended on it, all while getting a text notification in the process. her head peeked over and found her boyfriend’s messages.

hoonie 🫂:

Hey gorgeous, you there?

Text me back, I’m bored at practice ㅋㅋㅋ

a slight eye roll was taken from y/n, and she was sure she could blame her period for it, but she was annoyed for no reason.

she did feel bad for feeling this way because sunghoon didn’t even do anything wrong but, the girl just started, could you blame her?

she softly grumbled out a sigh, responding to not make him worry.

after sending a message, she shut her phone off, pouting in defeat of the discomfort that took over her body.

“maybe a nap will help..,”

her body laid down on the couch and within seconds, she was out like a light.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *�� ° . ☆

the day was ending soon, and with his busy schedule, sunghoon was still far from coming home (or so she thought).

y/n had awoken from her nap hours ago but in all, it didn’t help.

if anything, it just made her more grouchy than before; and sunghoon would have to deal with that soon.

or much sooner.

the doorknob quickly rustled as if someone was fighting it, confusing the girl on the opposing side before it creaked open to her boyfriend.

“hoonie?? why are you here?” her brows raised to depict her puzzled look, causing a light chuckle to deplete out of him.

“i just missed you, baby.” his low voice murmured out, lips curling into a hot grin.

maybe it was her hormones, but the way he played out that smile had her replay it in her head multiple times.

“didn’t you miss me?” sunghoon croaked out.

and just like that, her love for the boy disappeared.

not entirely, but her hormones pushed her to be more annoyed than gushy.

y/n shook her head, turning away instead of hugging her boyfriend who was longing for it after all day.

hoon gave a faint grin, mind almost catching onto her reasoning.

“come on, y/n, don’t leave me like that.” his hands snaked around her waist, emitting butterflies while she only shook her head.

“not right now, hoon,” she firmly mewled out.

‘so grumpy today,’ he mindlessly said in his own head.

“what’s wrong, baby?” his voice was low, sending shivers down her spine as she simply huffed out a sigh.

“i started my period, hoon. my cramps are hurting me.”

y/n didn’t hear a peep out of the boy until a soft chuckle slipped in through her ears.

“you know..,” sunghoon caught up to her, letting his hands wrap around her waist to pull her in. “i actually left practice early because my stomach was hurting. i think i might be a little sick..”

his grip attempted to tighten around her but she pushed his hands away with a small whine.

“that’s not funny hoon, i’m really in pain here.”

the girl crossed her arms with slightly furrowed brows, indicating that she wasn’t liking any of this teasing mess that she usually liked.

“gorgeous, i swear.. i’m not…,”

she watched her boyfriend clench onto his stomach with a scrunched face.

“hoonie, you better not be messing with me.” she murmured in a displeased look.

sunghoon gave a faint grin at her words. “i’m not, but maybe a little kiss will make me feel better?”

his lips puckered and he slightly leaned in, expecting an easy and simple kiss — only to hear a quiet scoff slip by his girl’s lips.

you know the feeling when you get grossed out by everything and anything when you’re on your period? yeah, y/n got that.

she quickly turnt her head, dodging the kiss.

“y/n.. come on,” sunghoon whined, pouty lips going on display again. “i need a kiss to feel better.”

she groaned out a sigh whilst looking at her handsome boyfriend. he was gorgeous, but the upset feeling still fueled her mood swings.

“don’t make fun of my cramps,” she murmured, walking away to the room with tears filling her eyes.

her emotions were out of the place because she started her period, could you blame her for tearing up?

sunghoon huffed out a sigh as he watched his girlfriend leave the scene before feeling his tummy gurgle again.

he whimpered in slight pain, holding his stomach as he slumped down on the couch.

“i really wanted that kiss,” the male cutely pouted to himself, resting in the living room to give y/n space.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few hours after their little spat, the girl escaped from their bedroom and into the bathroom to do a pad change — only to encounter the worst.

no more pads.

a groan escaped from her lips as her head dropped low in defeat.

sunghoon watched her leave the bathroom and walk up to him with her lips formed into a thin line, displaying her awkward smile.

“hoonie?”

“yeah, pretty girl?”

“ineedpads,” she quickly muffled out, causing a chortle to erupt out of him.

“slower, y/n, i barely understood that.” he flashed a wide grin at her, almost making her fold at his attractive feature.

“i.. need pads.”

“are you still mad at me?” hoon lightly teased, fangs shining in his charming smile.

“no… i just need pads..,” her head dropped low in shame as she tried to not let her mood swings get the best of her. “please, sunghoon.”

the boy attempted to bite back his smile at the little plead she let out, but how could he deny his girlfriend?

she was his weakness.

“come on, let’s go.”

he stood up, grasping her hands and leaving the apartment to head to the convenience store.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

arriving upon the store, y/n hurriedly ran to the hygiene section while hoon chuckled in his hidden mask and hovered hoodie, searching for various snacks.

her eyes scanned through each brand, looking for the right one before finding it.

“here it is!” she quietly beamed to herself, walking around to finally search for her boyfriend.

she soon reached the medicine aisle where sunghoon stood, a few heated pads and tasty treats loved by his girl were in his hands while looking for ibuprofen.

her heart melted at the sight. every small thing she found slightly annoying of him because of her period was gone in an instant.

she couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.

y/n opened her mouth to call his name but figured she probably shouldn’t with his famous background of being an idol, so she walked over to him instead.

but when she found the bottle of ibuprofen in his hands already, she found herself worried and confused.

‘is he really sick?’ her concerned eyes scanned his hidden face that was still focused on the sight in front of him.

“hey,” she softly poked his forearm. “are you really sick?”

sunghoon turned to his girlfriend who was deemed bothered at his state of health.

“i’m okay, gorgeous, my stomach just kind of hurts.”

he tried to laugh it off but y/n only furrowed her brows. “why didn’t you tell me that your stomach was actually upset?”

the boy huffed out another laugh before giving a soft ruffle at her hair. “it’s okay, you were upset so i didn’t want to bother you even more.”

not letting her respond, his hands grasped onto hers to lead her towards the cashier as she quietly fumed to herself, feeling guilty.

sunghoon thanked the employee before exiting out of the store with his favorite person, finally walking home.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

throughout the entire walk, y/n stayed quiet to herself, replaying how she completely dismissed his pain because of hers.

when they got to their apartment, sunghoon quietly sighed.

“okay, baby, what’s wrong?” he softly asked with the bag still in his hands.

“i’m sorry..,” she quietly peeped, turning around with her head down in shame — gaining a laugh to come from him.

“why are you sorry, y/n? you didn’t do anything.”

he approached the sad girl, lifting her head up with his hands pushing her cheeks to look at him. he found her with tears already streaming down and he couldn’t help but feel a gush of love over his heart.

“i’m sorry i didn’t take your stomach ache seriously, i don’t know why i did that..,”

sunghoon’s inner lips curled at her words. “y/n, it’s okay, you started your period, i understand.”

“shut up sunghoon! it’s not okay! and now i’m crying and i don’t know why i’m crying!” she fumed, letting her tears drop more. “and now you’re in more pain because of me!”

her hands fisted, softly hitting his shoulders out of instinct as he laughed to himself, heart warming at her little guilt.

“y/n,” he called, but she ignored him, not meeting his gaze.

a sigh left his throat as he continued, “gorgeous, can you please look at me?”

hesitantly, the girl raised her head and immediately felt his lips peck hers.

“i’m okay, okay? yes, my stomach hurts but i got medicine for a reason. i’ll be okay,” he pressed another kiss onto her nose temple, hearing her breath hitch as he grinned once more.

y/n softly pouted, pushing him away out of instinct. “i’m still sorry... so.., i’m gonna make you some rice porridge so you can feel better.”

she walked away to the kitchen, wiping her last tears before feeling his hands snake around her waist like earlier.

“you’d make me feel better, you know that?” sunghoon whispered into her ears as his height towered over hers.

“rice porridge would, actually, so sit down and wait until it’s done.”

“but i want cuddles,” he pouted, thumbs rubbing around her stomach area.

“you are sick because you get clingy when you do.”

his head dug further into her shoulders, taking in her scent he loved so much while chuckling.

“you know me so well.”

“i do, now will you please go wait on the couch? i want you to rest.”

she turned to face him, only to find the boy with his usual pouty lips.

“i want you to rest too, you know?”

he beamed an ear-to-ear grin before she playfully rolled her eyes.

“i know, hoonie, but you’re the sick one.”

“but-“

“wait on the couch until the rice porridge is done, and then we can cuddle all you want okay?” she intruded, letting him sigh in defeat.

sunghoon returned himself on the sofa, allowing his girlfriend to take care of him like she wanted.

after a few more fusses, the night eventually ended with the two concluding that hoon had gotten food poisoning.

so after connecting the dots of how, they ended up falling asleep on the furniture in each others arms — both snuggly fit as they were already feeling better in the presence of each other.

✩ ‘my only one’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

Text

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Twenty Two - Poor Milo

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.6K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Milo was miserable, that much was clear. But there wasn't much his mother could do about it. It broke her heart every time she dropped him off and picked him up from school. If she could have, she would have sent him somewhere better, would have put him in school with Olivia, but she simply couldn't afford it.

"Hey Munchkin," she said as he climbed into her car. Milo had stopped using the far seat when he started school. He buckled himself into the back seat and they set off.

He was silent for the entire journey to Daniel and Olivias house. Even when his mother tried to ask him questions, he wasn't answering. Her heart was entirely broken.

She wasn't the only one that noticed it. Daniel tried his hardest to converse with Milo, but he still wasn't answering. The only one of them that could get any kind of reaction out of him with Olivia. Olivia, who took him off so that they could play. Olivia, who got the hint and didn't talk about school.

As soon as dinner was done, Olivia took Milo up to her room to play. Daniel turned to Y/N as she put the dishes in the sink. "Milo is..."

She slipped back into her chair and her head fell into her hands. "I know. Danny, I know." She said, biting her lip to hold back her tears.

Daniel pushed his chair back and patted his thighs. Wordlessly, she climbed into his lap and let the sobs shake her body. "I'm still more than happy to pay for Milo to go to school with Olivia," he said and she shook her head.

"I couldn't ever pay you back, Daniel," she said between sobs.

He kissed her temple and rubbed her back. "I don't want you to pay me back," he said, but she still couldn't accept it.

The next day at school, Mill was clutching his stomach as he walked to the car. "Munchkin, what's wrong?" His mother asked before he could climbed into the car.

"Headache... tummy hurts..." he groaned.

Y/N frowned as she pressed her hand to his forehead. "We'll, you're not burning up," she said. But then she crouched to his height. "Try it for me today, Miley. If you're really feeling sick, tell your teacher to give me a call and I'll see if I can get Daniel to pick you up."

Reluctantly, Milo nodded. He climbed into the car and Y/N got into the driver's seat. If she could have, she would have kept him home with her, but she couldn't afford to take the day off to look after him.

The drive to the the school was silent, aside from the music playing on the radio. When she pulled into the car park, she unbuckled her seatbelt, but Milo was already out of the car, walking into the school.

She took a minute to sit in her car. Her head was against the steering wheel as she sucked in a breath. Her heart hurt as she gathered the strength to drive off to work, calling Daniel as she went.

It was maybe two hours into her shift before she got a call from the school.

She immediately picked up her phone and held it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Oh, Hello. Is this Mrs L/N? Milo L/N's mother?" Came the voice from the other end.

"That's me."

The woman on the other end of the phone let out a light cough. "We've got Milo here. He's not been feeling too well. Is there anybody that could come and pick him up?"

"Yeah," she immediately replied. "Yeah, I'm going to try and get my partner to come and pick him up."

"Can we get a name?"

"Daniel Ricciardo," she said.

The woman from Milo's school fell quiet. Y/N knew what she was wondering, whether it was the Daniel Ricciardo or not. Finally, she answered. "Okay, that's all sorted. We'll be waiting in the office with him."

She said her goodbyes and hung up, immediately calling Daniel.

Daniel, who picked up the phone the moment she called. Daniel, who stopped his workout the moment she told him what was happening. Daniel, who talked her through her tears as she cried at her desk, all while driving to pick up her son. Daniel was one in a million.

He drove straight to Milo's school, jumped out of his car as soon as it had stopped moving and strode into the office.

The collective gasp from the women that worked there was unsurprising. It really was him, they all thought. As soon as he saw Milo, sitting on the uncomfortable chair in the corner of the office, he walked over to him. "Hey, Milo," he said, getting down to his height. "Your mum sent me to pick you up."

Milo nodded. He climbed out of his seat and grabbed a hold of Daniels hand. Quickly speaking to the women at the desk, he signed them both out and walked Milo to the car.

He climbed into the back seat, sitting where Olivia normally did. "What's up, kiddo?" Daniel asked him as he began driving. But Milo stayed silent, holding his stomach. "Are you hungry?" He asked, and Milo nodded. "McDonalds?"

They went to McDonalds. Daniel took Milo inside, got him a kids chicken nuggets meal and an ice cream. The two of them sat in a booth, Daniel sipping his drink while Milo ate his nuggets and chips. "Feeling better now?" He asked.

"Yeah," said Milo, reaching for his own drink. "Thank you, Mr Ricciardo."

Daniel put his finished drink to one side. "You can call me Daniel," he said. By this point it was clear that Milo wasn't actually feeling unwell. Daniel didn't think he was lying, though. More likely, he was so anxious that he thought he really was sick.

"Is it school?" Daniel asked as Milo bit into his last nugget piece.

Milo hesitated before he nodded.

"I thought so," he mumbled, stealing a chip.

Milo finished his own drink and pushed the empty cup away. "I know my mummy can't send me to a different school," he said. "I know I can't go to the same school as Olivia, but I hate it so much," he said. "I've got no friends and the kids are mean," he said.

Daniel really felt for the kid. The first time he'd met Milo he'd been a shy little thing, and Daniel couldn't imagine that starting school couldn't have been easy for him. He didn't blame him for wanting to be at school with Olivia.

"Come on," he said when Milo finished his food. They stood up and Milo took his hand as they headed back out to the car. "We can watch cartoons until we have to pick up Olivia."

***

Y/N was the last of them to arrive home. Well, it wasn't her home, not yet. But it would be, Daniel knew. One day soon. She used the key Daniel had given her and walked into the house.

"Hey," said Daniel as he strode towards her. "Milo is upstairs with Olivia. He's feeling better now," he said.

She let out a breath and let her bag fall to the floor. It was been an exhausting day, even if she'd barely gotten any work done. All day she'd been so worried about Milo, her hands had been shaking as she tried to type at her computer.

Daniel could see it written on her face. "C'mere," he said as he walked towards her and placed his arm around her shoulders. "I've got Chinese food on the way."

"You're wonderful," she said through a sigh, stopping her walking to wrap her arms around him.

He did the same and kissed the top of her head. "We do need to talk, though."

They were the scariest six words she had heard since the beginning of their relationship. Daniel took a hold of her hand, kissed it, and took her through to the kitchen.

He sat her down at the table and sat opposite her. "Milo wasn't sick today," he said. "I think that he thinks he was sick. I think that he was anxious, so anxious that he felt sick." Daniel reached across the table, grabbed her hand. "Y/N, you can't send him back to that school. He's miserable, and if he keeps feeling so anxious that he's sick, he's never gonna get any learning done."

She squeezed Daniel's hand. "What can I do, Danny? I can't afford to send him to school with Olivia, and I don't have time to drive him out to any of the other schools."

"Let me pay for it," he said and she immediately shook her head.

"No, Daniel. I could never pay you back."

"I don't want you to pay me back." He said it so quietly she almost didn't hear it. "I love you and I love Milo. Let me look after you as best I can."

But she was still shaking her head. "Danny-"

"Okay, no. Let me do it for Milo," he said as he stared into her eyes.

She swallowed and nodded. "I am gonna find a way to pay you back," she said as she stood up and walked around the table.

"I'm sure you will," he said with a grin, pushing his chair back to pull her into his lap. His hands were on her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

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andvys · 3 months

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through.

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it.

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you.

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room.

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features.

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him.

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back.

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you.

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you.

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.”

Steve nodded.

He too was still in disbelief.

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you.

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you.

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won.

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces.

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little.

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.”

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her.

“Huh? Who jumped first?”

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name.

You were the first to jump.

You were the one to go after him first.

You wanted to save him.

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him?

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would.

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second.

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second.

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you.

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it.

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you.

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are.

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once.

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day.

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state.

But he had never seen you like this before.

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form.

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you.

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!”

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say.

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.”

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now.

How did you feel last night?

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.”

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you.

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest.

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again.

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you.

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you.

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up.

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.”

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod.

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces.

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before.

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning

You hesitate.

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks.

He runs his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.”

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night.

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent.

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage?

You carry guilt, just like he does.

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other.

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words.

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you.

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped.

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.”

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room.

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box.

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words.

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.”

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you.

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..”

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table.

Polaroid Pictures.

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy.

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985.

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one.

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen.

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.”

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand.

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile.

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding.

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.”

“Had?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy.

Oh no.

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.”

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes.

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before.

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.”

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school.

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost.

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need.

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity.

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.”

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you.

“I let some see.”

Right. Some.

He nods and looks away.

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham.

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling.

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy.

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him.

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted.

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend.

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before.

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one.

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with.

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time.

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984.

You were friends with Billy Hargrove?

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him.

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture.

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before.

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face.

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content.

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were.

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them.

Were you and Billy dating?

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car.

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you.

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it.

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets.

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question.

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him.

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.”

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy and that for some reason, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips.

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches.

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother.

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.”

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears.

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship.

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble.

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him.

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you.

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head.

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over.

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her.

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about.

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again.

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did.

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again.

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life.

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about.

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you.

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will.

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye.

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday.

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did.

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.”

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way.

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname.

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing.

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day.

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers.

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile.

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead.

“Are we.. good?”

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes.

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply.

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week.

Oh.

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows.

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.”

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting.

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding.

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.”

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you.

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again.

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second.

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again.

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie.

You blink, looking between them, back and forth.

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes.

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes.

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything.

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max.

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room.

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles.

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh.

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up.

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box.

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy.

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly.

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock.

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little.

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain.

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke.

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too.

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds.

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.”

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning.

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either.

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more.

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar.

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need.

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat.

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them.

You won’t have to live without them.

They will be more than just a short time.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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buckybabesonly · 1 year

Text

Protector

Summary: When Steve gets injured on the field protecting you, Bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of Steve’s arms around you.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader, platonic Steve x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff (y'all know we only do happy endings here)

Warnings: Jealous Bucky, Bucky being slightly mean to reader out of over-protectiveness, minor character injury, I’m not very good at writing action scenes I apologize 🙇🏻‍♀️

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: My creative juices are floooowing lately! I have so many ideas saved in my drafts 😭 Please let me know if you liked this one!

"On your feet. Again." Steve’s voice was authoritative, demanding, as per usual. He gestured his hand at you as you lay on your back, skin gleaming with sweat.

You gave him a faux-scowl, the muscles in your legs shaking with exhaustion as you forced yourself to stand, hands bracing themselves on your knees.

"Wait. Need a breather," you said, shaking your head. Your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and Bucky's fingers itched to neatly sweep the strands back from out of your face.

He watched silently from one side of the room, observing your sparring session with Steve. He was going pretty tough on you, though he told you it was for your own good.

"No breathers out in the field," Steve grunted, tackling you and practically tossing you over his shoulder, but with enough finesse so you landed safely on your butt.

"Hey!" you exclaimed loudly in shock. If you had been looking, you would have seen how Bucky reflexively half-rose from his perch, afraid that you had actually been hurt, until he saw the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at Steve and bounced back on your feet indignantly.

"I was making a point -" Steve ducked to the side when you launched a fist towards his head, then threw out a sharp roundhouse kick. You just managed to graze the top of his hair, and he laughed jovially.

"Almost. Try again."

Bucky settled back in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you throw yourself again and again at Steve. Especially when Steve's strong arm encircled your waist, the other one hooking itself under your thigh to throw you onto the ground once more.

He clenched his fist, wishing it was him with his hands on your body instead, and in an entirely different setting.

His excuse for being in the training room was to try and see where your weak spots were and offer you pointers, in hopes that you would improve your hand-to-hand combat. You were an excellent sharpshooter, and could easily defend yourself, but needed to work on your offensive attacks.

Lately, the idea of you attacking someone head on had been making Bucky feel uneasy. Which was ridiculous, since you were part of the team and it was literally your job, but he found that it was affecting his focus out on the field. He felt like he had a constant obligation to look out for you, to protect you.

It seemed like Steve shared the same sentiment. The super soldiers were both oddly protective over you, and it had actually been Steve's idea to up your training in recent months.

The way you moaned as Steve landed a punch in your abdomen made Bucky simultaneously want to rugby tackle his best friend to the ground, and somehow planted sinful thoughts in his head. He knew Steve would never hit you with full-force, however, and made himself to stay put.

"Rogers, I swear one of these days, I'm going to kick your ass," you groaned.

He laughed again, and you took the opportunity to exploit his distraction, using your position on the floor to knock his feet out from under him with surprising force. Your kicked his shins sharply, sending him on his knees, and lunged for him.

You had him on his back for once, finally, and you grinned triumphantly at Bucky. He was mildly perturbed at your position, semi-straddling Steve, but he managed to crack a smile.

Steve finally called it a day half an hour later, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room. You were humming to yourself, stretching out your limbs. Bucky didn’t miss the way you winced slightly.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked, tossing you a bottle of water.

“A little, but it’s alright,” you shrugged. You took a sip, eyes sliding over to his form. He was looking particularly handsome today in a pair of form fitting black jeans, heavy boots and his leather jacket zipped up around his torso.

God, this man could be wearing a garbage bag and you would be drooling. From the first day you met him, you had developed a crush on him, hooked by his ruggedly handsome looks and tough exterior. What really made you fall, however, was that surprisingly soft personality hidden underneath. He made you laugh, too, and you loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at you. Bucky had easily stolen your heart.

Said heart was continuously fluttering nowadays whenever you were near him, like he was a silly teenage crush. You tried to play it cool.

“So, any tips?”

Soon, you were both grappling at each other playfully, peals of laughter leaving your mouth as you “fought”. Bucky was smiling that darn smile, looking almost childlike as you circled each other.

At some point you ended up on top of him, your hands around his wrists as you pinned them back. He could easily free himself, but he humored you.

“Hah!” you called out.

Bucky’s laughter subsided slowly as he took in the sight of you, panting on top of him. His eyes inadvertently fell to your cleavage, where the swell of your breasts was oh-so-visible from his vantage point, your skimpy tank top doing little to hide your skin.

Mortified, he felt a rush of blood to his groin. He knocked you off swiftly before you could feel anything which would reveal what a pervert he was, coughing loudly to hide his embarassment.

“That’s enough,” he said, surprising you with a change of tone. You felt a little disheartened at the switch-up, confusion settling in.

“Ah, okay,” you said, nodding. He was probably getting tired of your games, knowing how you didn’t like to take everything too seriously. Bucky mumbled something about going to take a shower before he excused himself and left.

Being an Avenger was always going to be life threatening. However, you could think of nothing else you'd rather be doing than fighting alongside your chosen family, trying to make your contribution to the world, even if it meant risking yourself.

You usually considered yourself a solid team player, trusting Steve to make the right call out on the field. Now, you weren't so sure, faintly aware that maybe, just maybe, you had screwed up. Especially in situations like these, lying on concrete with your ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

Smoke and dust filled your sight. Your mind was scrambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel the pain in your shoulder, and you wondered if you had dislocated it or worse.

The smoke cleared. All of a sudden, Bucky's face appeared, panic clearly written in his eyes.

The pieces were slowly coming together. You suddenly became aware that Steve was lying behind you, shield in hand and positioned above you. You could hear him groaning in mild discomfort. The clanging in your ears were subsiding so you could hear him and Bucky's shouting.

Your disorientation faded, and you realized what had happened. The explosion.

Four S.H.I.E.L.D agents had gone rogue and had secretly been working for HYDRA, who had been spending the past year regaining power and presence. You had been one of the people dispatched to take them down after the team received intel on the location of their base. They had been holed up in an underground bunker beneath an abandoned warehouse, the perfect spot for a group like them.

You weren't even supposed to be in that part of the bunker, but you saw an opportunity to breach their control room, where undoubtedly you would be able to find all sorts of valuable information about what HYDRA was planning, or what terrible projects they had ongoing. Unfortunately, they had been savvier than you thought, and had implemented a safeguard in the event of a security breach.

That safeguard, as it turned out, was explosives.

Steve had found you as soon as he was made aware of what you were doing, and he had appeared no more than 15 seconds before the bombs detonated. If he hadn't been around, you were almost certain you'd be dead.

You barely had time to register Steve's appearance before you suddenly found yourself flying off your feet, Steve a blur of blue as he re-positioned himself to protect you.

"...fuck, will you say something? Are you okay?"

Bucky was screaming in your ear, and you blinked, the haze finally clearing. Alarms were blaring, Steve was back on his feet, scooping you up with ease.

"We need to get back to the Quinjet," you heard Steve bark, and he began sprinting, jumping over rubble with you in his arms, Bucky following close behind.

As soon as you boarded the jet, Steve sat you down and ordered Bucky to tend to you. He was already kneeling at your feet and inspecting your injuries wordlessly. Steve swiftly geared the Quinjet to life, desperate to get them out of the area before anything else went to hell.

"Look at me," Bucky said sharply, his voice rough. You were startled at his tone, his hands brushing your hair back as he inspected your head for any serious injuries. Blood was trickling from your temples, but from what he could tell, they were only shallow cuts. "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," you managed to say faintly, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. You had put all of them in danger because of your reckless actions, and Steve had actually been injured because of you. You could see the blood dripping off his fingers as he sat at the console, though from the way he handled himself you knew they could only be minor lacerations.

Your eyes landed on Bucky's face then, scanning him for any signs of injury. He seemed physically unharmed, but his face was bright red and he was shaking with rage as he spoke to you. You were ashamed, knowing that he was furious you put his best friend in danger.

“I told you to stay put,” Bucky snarled, slamming his hand against the back of your seat.

"I - I know," you stuttered, vaguely remembering Bucky's request in your earpiece just moments earlier.

“Why couldn't you just listen? You had to play the fucking hero?"

"Bucky, lay off of her." Steve's warning was stern, and Bucky shot a glare at the back of his head.

"No. She was being stupid," he spat, looking back at you. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

You bristled then, despising his patronizing tone. “You’re one to talk. How many times have you completely gone off script and blindsided us with your decisions?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was an unfair statement.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think you realize what could have happened back there."

You looked at Steve again, guilt consuming you. He was focused on operating the jet, and you knew that he hadn't been seriously hurt, but he could have been. Or, worse, Bucky could have been caught in the explosion. He was lucky not to have been there.

"I'm sorry," you began, but Bucky cut you off.

"You need to take this fucking seriously," he snarled. "You went marching in there blindly, and look what happened."

"I thought I might be able to get something useful," you said weakly.

"Look how well that turned out," he said sarcastically. "You blew everything up."

You recoiled, hurt. You wondered if Bucky was actually upset that you had destroyed a valuable chance to get information on HYDRA. Though how were you supposed to know extracting the information would set off literal bombs? You had been acting quickly, wanting to get in and out. Maybe Bucky blamed you for destroying that chance.

"You can be so fucking stupid and selfish," Bucky exclaimed angrily, lashing out in full force. So reckless, doing whatever you wanted to do, without so much as a thought to how much potential harm you could be putting yourself in.

"That's enough," Steve shouted loudly, his voice angry and booming.

You flinched visibly, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from snapping back. Or worse, crying. Bucky walked over to the other side of the jet, away from you.

The feeling was awful. Your shoulder was burning, throat in pain from the smoke you had inhaled, and all Bucky had done was shout. It was surprising, how much your feelings hurt at his outburst.

Bucky was as tense as a statue. His mind was racing as he refused to look at you, thinking of all the worst possibilities. His heart felt as if it had literally skipped a beat the moment he saw you lying in the rubble, seconds after he'd heard the explosion and realized he could no longer hear you in his earpiece - there was a chilling moment amidst the action where he really, genuinely believed you had been killed.

Having you act so blasé about it after the fact infuriated him.

You, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight in your chest as you watched Bucky mutter to himself, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You felt so guilty, feeling so...incapable in Steve and Bucky's presence. Steve had been hurt because of you, and Bucky had every right to be mad at you. Nonetheless, his words cut you deeply.

Stupid and selfish.

The rest of the journey back to the compound was tense and silent. Bucky stared at the wall whilst you stared at the ground. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky stood up with full intention of hoisting you up against his chest to take you to the medical wing, but found Steve standing between you and him instead. Like a barrier, as if he wanted to protect you from Bucky's wrath.

"Let's get you checked out," Steve grunted, his arm once again around your damn waist as you stood.

Even though it was neither the place nor the time, jealously instinctively entered Bucky's bloodstream at the way you leaned on Steve. He wanted to be the one to take care of you, dammit, but all he had achieved was make you avoid his stare.

"Get her head checked out whilst you're at it," Bucky barked. "See if you can find out why she lost all her fucking common sense."

Tears sprang to your eyes when Bucky stormed off the jet, heading into the compound first. It hurt you more than you cared to admit that he hadn't even stayed to see if you were alright.

"He didn't mean that," Steve said quietly.

"He did," you retorted, wincing in pain as you experimentally moved your shoulder. "Shit."

"You alright?"

"Dislocated, I think."

Steve helped you to the medical wing, where you were promptly checked and - yep, dislocated shoulder. No other injuries though, thanks to Steve.

"You saved my life," you said gratefully as Steve stood beside you, wiping dried blood from his hands and face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, as well."

Steve's face was kind yet stern as he moved to stand in front of you. "No need to thank me. But yeah, the way you behaved was kind of reckless."

"I know."

He placed a heavy hand on your good shoulder, squeezing gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Do you think Bucky hates me?" you asked suddenly, looking up at Steve searchingly. "You know him best. Do you think he hates me now?"

Steve sighed loudly in a way that planted doubt in your mind despite his answer. "No, of course he doesn't hate you."

"I think he's at least annoyed that I risked your life," you mumbled.

"Okay, first of all, I've been in so many explosions that it's just a regular day at the office, now," Steve said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Secondly, I think he's just annoyed that you risked your life."

You were dubious, thinking that Steve was just trying to placate you. You recalled how Bucky had glared at you before. If he actually cared, surely he wouldn't have just stalked off like that?

“I think my safety was the last thing on his mind.”

"Get some rest," Steve repeated. "Stop overthinking."

You nodded unconvincingly, all while your thoughts continued to be plagued by a certain dark haired, blue eyed man.

"She okay?" Bucky asked Steve the moment he saw him in the hallway just off the medical wing.

"You could ask her yourself, you know," he said, cocking an eyebrow. When Bucky didn't respond, he offered, "Dislocated her shoulder. Few cuts and bruised ribs. Otherwise, she's fine."

Bucky felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had inspected you pretty closely on the jet and was sure you had been fine, though he was annoyed he didn't realize your shoulder was hurt, however part of him was still fearful. To hear Steve confirm that you were mostly fine was a relief.

"Good," Bucky said brusquely. Steve tilted his head at him, observing his best friend with judgmental eyes. The silence between them spoke volumes. “Shut up," Bucky added.

Your shoulder had been easily maneuvered back into place, though you were confined into a sling and would be for the next few weeks, rendering you useless on the field. That, combined with the gnawing guilt of putting Bucky and Steve in danger, dampened your usually upbeat self.

After being discharged from the medical wing, you had retired to your bedroom and stayed there for the rest of the day. A few mornings later, you left your bedroom at the crack of dawn, startled to see Bucky already making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey," you said meekly, clearing your throat as you made your way to the coffee machine.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and you wondered if he had slept at all. His hair was disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it, and he had stubble all across his sharp jawline.

Things were weird now after his tirade at you. You considered the two of you to be friends - very good friends, actually. In fact, you would be lying if you said you didn't have a deep-rooted hope that you might become more than friends. But, after Bucky's explosive verbal attack on you, you felt so small standing in front of him. You had avoided him for the past couple of days, afraid of any potential confrontation.

He thinks you’re stupid and selfish, you reminded yourself. Each time his words replayed in your mind, a fresh wave of pain hit you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how harsh he’d been for the past few nights whilst in bed, tears slipping down your face and onto your pillow as you tried to sleep.

Your gut twisted in discomfort. You liked Bucky so much, and his admonishing had crushed you somewhat. You wanted him to respect you, didn't want to disappoint him, but you had achieved the opposite.

You turned your back on him and poured yourself a coffee, knowing that if you looked at him for too long, you might start crying. His face was one that you used to love looking at, loved how affectionate he was when he spoke to you, but now you were just scared. You didn’t think you could take it if he snapped at you again.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence first, and you wondered if he actually genuinely cared about the answer. You really weren’t sure anymore.

"I'm fine," you said, nodding and moving over to the pantry to try and find something to eat. You stretched up to the shelves with your good arm, fingers curling over a bag of croissants but not quite being able to reach.

You felt his presence behind you, his chest pressing against your back softly as he took the pastries down for you, setting them down on the counter.

Bucky watched when you stiffened slightly, and felt a heavy twinge of regret at how he had spoken to you that day. He was already feeling like an ass about it, but now he wondered if you were somehow frightened of him. He knew that he had crossed a line, said some pretty nasty things.

He stepped away from you, clearing his throat loudly to catch your attention. When you half-turned to face him, he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was out of line."

He could only see your profile as you bit down on your lower lip, shrugging as if to say no big deal. From the way your eyes were darting about, Bucky could tell you were holding back on your emotions. "It's okay. You were right."

Bucky frowned, watching as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. "What do you mean?"

"What I did was stupid and selfish," you said, your voice quivering. Bucky's lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. "I wasn't thinking, and I put both of you in danger. I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry at me."

Realization hit Bucky like a freight train.

"Hey," he said gently, approaching you again, his hand awkwardly curling around your wrist. He could see your eyes beginning to well up. "Don't get upset." He tilted his head at you, trying to coax you to look at him.

"I'm not," you sniffed, blinking hard in an attempt to rid yourself of your budding tears.

"When I said you were stupid and selfish," Bucky winced at those adjectives now, "I meant I just felt you were stupid to put yourself in danger, and selfish because - well, you didn't even think about what it would do to me."

Your brow furrowed at Bucky's rushed explanation, looking up at him quizically. Your eyes were still glistening, and his heart ached.

"I don't understand."

Bucky made a slightly frustrated noise, releasing your wrist. He planted his hands on the kitchen counter instead, trapping you, your lower back pressed against the marble edge. He sighed loudly, making you swallow nervously.

"Bucky?"

"I care about you," he began, suddenly unable to articulate himself properly as he looked into your eyes. “A lot. As in, a lot."

"Oh-kay..." The syllables were long and drawn out. You were still nonplussed.

"No, you don't get it," Bucky said through gritted teeth. He cast his mind back to the events in the bunker, that same fear creeping into his system. "There was a second where I heard the blast, and I thought you were done for. I was terrified."

Bucky leaned closer, so close that his forehead was almost resting on yours. His eyes fluttered closed. It was easier if he didn’t look at you to voice his feelings.

"There was a very real moment where I thought I lost you, and it was horrible." The unspoken meaning hung in the air. I can't live without you.

His confession made your heart rise in your chest with surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, Bucky." The way you spoke his name made him want to hold you tight. "I had no idea you cared so much," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, and they were anguished. "That's the problem. I'm so scared of showing you my feelings that you had no idea I care about you more than anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. The idea of you being hurt is infinitely more terrifying than telling you how much I really like you."

“I - really?” His words were black and white, but you were afraid to truly believe them.

“Did you know,” Bucky began, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheekbone, “how much I want to protect you? Keep you from harm? At first, I didn’t understand it, but then I realized that I was falling for you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been so long since I felt anything like that for anyone, that I barely recognized what it was.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. The way you were gazing at him now in pure adoration was motivation enough.

“I want to be with you, as more than friends.” He let out a soft huff of laughter, like he was amused it had taken him so long to admit something so simple.

You lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, feeling a renewed confidence and sense of happiness at his words.

“I should have told you long ago how much I like you, too,” you whispered. Bucky's chest swelled in happiness at your admission.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" he asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

Your reply was to stand on your tip-toes so you could meet his mouth in a kiss, finally doing what you had wanted to do since the moment you met him.

#bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #winter soldier

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sugume · 3 months

Note

You telling your (boyfriend/ex/crush/dilf/whatever) JJK men that you got waxed by a man…

ANOTHER MAN WAXED YOU PRANK – JUJUSTU KASIEN

( CW ) f!reader. vulgar language. fluff

FEATURING: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento

☾ GOJO SATORU

“How was your appointment babe?” Satoru asks when he feels you come up behind him. You wrap your arms around his middle and smile into his back. “It was good, I think I'm getting used to it because it’s starting to hurt less.” You tell him. Satoru turns around and pouts down at you. “I can’t believe I gotta wait twenty-four hours to see it. It’s not fair.’ He huffs, pulling your body closer to him. “Remember what happened last time we didn’t wait, Satoru? But I think that was the waxers' fault, I had a new one today and he was so gentle—” “He?” He stares down at you confused. “Yes, he, men can be waxers too. Anyways, he was so gentle when he took the wax off. He always left his hand pressed down longer to soothe the skin.” Your boyfriend stares at you incredulously, stepping out of your embrace. “This was a pussy appointment, right?” “A Brazilian wax, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, trying your hardest not to laugh. “Another man waxed our pussy? Babe, are you serious right now? What was his name? You said he lingered too, what the hell!” Satoru screeches, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at you. “Babe it isn't that serious, he only accidentally rubbed my clit 4 times!” You try and wrap your arms back around him. Satoru steps back with a look of shock. Just as he opens his mouth to shout you cut him off. “Wait, wait babe it’s just a prank! I’m just kidding! Look the phone is recording over there!” You laugh, pulling at Satoru's folded arms. He looks at the camera in shock. “How dare you!”

☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“I feel so smooth Toji, you don’t even know.” You tell your boyfriend as you rub your arms. “Oh yeah?” He grins, hands coming down to rub your bare, freshly waxed thighs. “Mhm! My waxer, the one I usually go to was holding a class—” “What did they all get wax a little strip off your hairy thighs?” He laughs at whatever image he imagines in his head. You slap his chest. “Shut up Toji! The class only had two people, and since she knows I’m not uncomfortable with nudity she asked me to demonstrate the brazilin wax to them,” You look up at Toji and smile at him. “So, they got to try it out, the dude was really good—” “Dude?” He scrunched up his eyebrows. “Yeah, he was really good at soothing the pain, he held his hand down really firm and stuff. “A brazilin wax is the legs and arms?” “No, it's the vagina.” He glares at you. “Are you joking?” You blink up at him innocently. “No why would I be?” “Oh, don’t joke with be y/n, you just fuckin’ said a man was waxing you down there and that he was firm and soothing. The only man that should be ‘firm and soothing’ down there, is me.’ He pinches your cheek. “But I know you’re lyin’; you have the worst poker face.” “You’re no fun!”

☾ NANAMI KENTO

You set your phone against a vase before face-timing your boyfriend. He answers on the second ring, already waiting for your call. “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hey babe, sorry I couldn't call earlier, my appointment got pushed back a bit.” You tell Kento as he holds the phone close to his face. “That's fine baby, tell me how was it? They were good to you?” “Yeah, but my waxer canceled, and I had to get another person. He was good thought, nice and gentle.” You watch Kento’s face for any reaction, but he nods and smiles. “That’s good, you used my card, right?” He asks. “Yeah, I did. Did you hear me when I said the waxer was some dude?” “Yes, what about it?” He questions staring at you through the screen. “Oh, nothin’ I just wanted to tell you he had this new way of waxing. He would take a strip off and then get real close and blow air on me.” Nanami frowns. “What? Is that even allowed? How close did he get?” “Apparently everyone's starting to do it, but he accidentally got a bit too close and his lips made contact a few times.” “What the hell?” Nanami jumps up. “What was his name? A few times? Thats unacceptable. Send me the address of the shop.” Kento grabs his coat. “Wait it’s just a prank Ken! I’m kidding, there was no man!” Nanami stares down at the phone in his hand for several seconds before sitting back down and groaning. “That was not one of your bests, sweetheart.”

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that-student-that-has-homework · 3 months

Text

Pretty Girl - Portgas D. Ace

I read this lovely little snippet by @mrsoharaa and felt the need to know what would happen next. Written with permission!

Check out my MasterList for more of my writing!

To be fair, Marco actually wasn’t teasing him this time. He’d been nose deep in a book and was just as deep in his thoughts when he’d made the request.

“Hey Ace, can you go and call” the first division commander squinted at the book, trying to recall the words but was clearly too distracted to, “can you call-we-what was-just call your pretty girl for me yoi?”

He wasn’t teasing him this time.

Ace had just simply had enough.

//—----------

It had started in the morning? maybe afternoon? who knows what time it was…after some good old fashion pirate revelry until who knows what hour of the evening.

He’d woken up in some weird kinda angle on some random corner of the ship, with a bit of a headache. So like any other day, he made his way over to the kitchen to get some food to fix his problem. After all, if his head hurt, he probably just needed some food, right?

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the slick Second Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates,” the Division Commander in question blinked at his Fourth Division counterpart, his lips pulling up at the strange greeting.

What’d he mean by slick though? Just thinking about it made his head squeeze, so he decided to push it off until he had some food in his system.

“Thatch, I’m hungry,” he declared as he slumped himself on the kitchen counter, throwing his bottom half on a stool there, “gimme somethin’ to eat.”

“Comin’ right up,” the cook shot him an amused grin as he went about grabbing his disgruntled younger brother-in-arms some food.

“Hungover?” The question came from Ace’s side, where the head doctor sat, sipping on a cup of…well it wasn’t alcohol.

“Huh?” The younger man just blinked, trying to get the fog out of his brain. “Nah.” He rolled onto his side to better face his older brother. “Just got a headache.”

“Sounds like a hangover to me yoi,” the doc grinned over the rim of his mug.

Ace didn’t pay him much mind though, waiting for his food to arrive.

Though his silence seemed to encourage his companion, “especially with how much you drank last night.”

“Wasn’t that much,” he ruffled his hair in hopes to alleviate some of the pounding in his head.

“It was enough that you called a certain someone ‘pretty girl.’”

A moment of silence passed as Ace continued to aggressively knead at his scalp. His mind very sluggishly processing Marco’s words…he was just about to fall asleep again with how much his he-

HE DID WHAT?!

That blew all the fog and grog out of Ace’s brain and body, as he all but sprung to his feet in shock. The medic in front of him offered him little more than his usual lazy, lopsided grin.

The vertigo hit him right as the adrenaline wore off, and he was clutching to the counter to save himself from smacking into the ground. His grip only tightened as he heard footsteps from the other side of the counter rejoin them.

“Yo Ace, I fixed you a plate for your pretty girl too,” he chirped sliding over two plates, “if you wanted to go and deliver it to her.”

It had been a while since Pops had clobbered him, but the memory of his audacious, disastrous, flirty remark hit him much like one of Pops’ fists did. Of all things, he only came up with pretty girl?

He-just-urgh-just-just where was his hat when he needed it? He resorted to using his hands to hide his face from the other two commanders. He didn’t need to see them to know they were grinning - they were just oozing with entertainment.

“Ah don’t worry slick,” he could hear Thatch’s voice getting closer, “I’d say she took it well enough.”

The way the cook only barely got his sentence out before he and Marco broke out into snickers said otherwise. Ace grabbed his plate of food and moved to find a different corner of the massive galleon to eat in.

For the next few days, the different commanders would wink, snicker, smirk, borderline leer at him whenever you were in his general vicinity. They weren’t subtle about it, given pirates were generally as subtle as a sea king on land. They didn’t have to say it out loud for him to hear it though:

“Pretty girl.”

The behavior spread to the rest of the crew like wildfire. He’d have compared the spread to some nasty disease, but those usually knocked people out. Unfortunately this one seemed to rile them up, everyone seemed overly eager to be able to poke at him for his drunken declaration. By the end of the week, even the swabbies were in on it. They weren’t as bad as the commanders, but…ugh. Just…anyhow you’d think that, after a week, it would become old news, but no.

Nope.

Not this news.

Seems everyone on this damn ship was a gossip. Grown ass grizzled pirates, reduced to giggling gossiping gaggles of gremlins. The Second Division Commander couldn’t go for more than a few hours without hearing some kinda comment, or getting some kinda look.

Even pops was in on it now!

He’d found out when the old man had grinned at him, what was worse was that it was a good-natured grin. He wasn’t teasing him…but what he said to him, as a kind of encouragement, had left this poor son of Whitebeard feeling more flustered than ever.

Unfortunately all his attempts at getting the crew to cut it out were falling on deaf ears. His fellow commanders in particular had no problem ignoring his requests and continuing to tease him, which of course emboldened the rest of the crew.

Of course the worst part had to be…well, there was no way you didn’t know about what was happening. After all, you always put on an unbothered face, but he knew it had to be making you uncomfortable. After all it wasn’t like he’d ever followed up on that pretty girl comment while sober. Though he wouldn’t deny the little amused simpers that you’d put on whenever your fellow crew mates would leer at him had his heart doing little flips.

Anyway…

Things had finally died down a bit, with Ace getting some peace of mind. People had finally gotten bored. Meaning he could probably try…y’know…approaching you while sober…

Well they’d mostly died down…

//—--

“SHE IS PRETTY ALRIGHT?!” Yeah he’d had enough. “Do none of y'all have eyes?!” He raged on, over a week’s worth of agitation erupting from him violently.

“So what if I called her pretty girl?” There was a kind of catharsis in seeing the First Division Commander staring at him bug-eyed. “It wasn't a lie!” He threw his hands up in agitation. “That's for sure.”

“Uh A-”

“Like you all don't state the obvious sometimes!” He pointed an accusatory finger at everyone who was in the infirmary…which wasn’t much, but Thatch hadn’t left yet and he was one of the guys that teased him the most!

“A-”

“And!” He was burning up the whole place and there was no stopping him. “I never said she was my pretty girl! I just said she was a pretty girl!” Little flickers of fire left his shoulders. “And she definitely is pretty!” He flexed his fingers. “Gorgeous, beautiful, pretty, all the words that mean that!”

The Second Division Commander’s chest and shoulders heaved from the way he was panting after his rant. Man it felt good to get it off his chest.

He shook his head, getting the remaining frustration out before rolling his shoulders out. He felt a whole lot better. He stretched his neck, before turning to look at his stunned fellow commanders.

“Hey Thatch, I’m hungry,” he grinned, “can you make me something to eat? Or should I just go raid the fridge?”

That seemed to snap the cook out of it, “keep yourself out of my fridge and out of my kitchen hotshot!”

“Uh…Ace,” the fiery man turned to look at the medic that had sparked this outburst.

“Oh Marco, what did you need again?” He’d asked him to do something before mentioning you.

“It’s no problem yoi,” strange, the doctor seemed to be looking behind him.

Was there someone behind him? The young commander turned around -

Shoot.

He hadn’t said anything negative! But dang what he said sure as hell was damning. He must sound like a total creep. Just going on and on about how pretty he thinks you are. Could someone just launch him into the sea?

It didn’t help that the most unrelenting of the division commanders were here to see this horrifying display. They weren’t ever going to let him live this dow-

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, hope pulling your lips up tentatively. “Even while sober?”

Ace managed to nod at that.

Gosh he felt stupid. This wasn’t how he wanted to do it. Why was he so trash at trying to compliment you?

“Well I think you’re pretty too,” you gave him a good-natured smile, “so there, we’re even.”

“Really?” Gah! Why was that the first thing out of his mouth?

Oh gosh it was so cute the way you fiddled with your fingers. You only ever did that when you were nervous-you only ever did that when you were nervous.

“I mean,” you grinned, “haven’t you ever looked in a mirror Ace?”

Ace was sure he’d turned his face to fire at that point. He was here fumbling over his feet like a baby dear, and you were so smooth, you might as well be polishing the deck with wax.

“Um, in case that wasn’t clear,” you continued, “yes, really Ace, you’re pretty.”

Thatch let out a low whistle then, “well would you look at that,” he grinned, “a pretty boy for a pretty girl.”

“Stop teasing him Thatch,” you sighed, shooting the cook a look, “you’ve all teased him more than enough already.”

“Yo,” the longtime resident of the infirmary called out to you, “I was actually going to send Ace to find you yoi.”

“Oh did you need something Marco?” You walked further into the room, passing by the stunned pretty boy.

“Were you busy today yoi?”

“Not really, why? Did you need help?”

You thought he was pretty too?

Would you consider, maybe, going out on a date? He couldn’t help but stare at you as you continued to talk with his First Division Counterpart. He wasn’t about to ask you here, in front of these jerks, but maybe later…

Maybe later…

When you were sitting on the bow looking up at the stars that dotted the night sky. He’d ask you.

And you’d say yes.

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

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wheeboo · 3 months

Text

run to you | lee chan

SYNOPSIS. in which your best friend picks you up in the middle of the night. PAIRING. biker!best friend!lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, implied that reader lives in a troubled household, lil description of a twisted ankle, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.7k

notes: finally have something written for dino!! i haven't written anything for him in a HOT min that this almost feels out of character for some reason 😭 anyways enjoy <3

Chan doesn't understand why simply the sight of your name lighting up his phone has his heart quickening, head spinning, and adrenaline rushing all in a single moment. But he doesn't give it much thought, his hand instinctively pressing the answer button as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

He brings his phone up to his ear, calling out your name, "Y/N?"

"Hey, um..." Your voice is shaky on the other line, barely above a whisper, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like pain, and it sends a snake of worry up his back. "...can you do me a favour real quick?"

Chan glances at the time on his phone for a brief second, brows furrowing at the late time displayed on the screen. He sits up in bed, already somehow feeling more awake than just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, uh, what's up?"

Silence hangs heavy in the air, heavier than the late-night quiet pressing against Chan's window. He can almost hear your nervous inhale and picture the hesitant frown on your face.

"I left my... well, actually my entire skateboard bag... at your place," You admit quietly, sheepishly. "Could you possibly... drop it off at my door? It's really late, I know, but𑁋"

"Where are you?" Chan asks frantically and seriously that it cuts you off. He hears the way your breath hitches in your throat at the tone of his voice, and it only makes him more apprehensive and his heart hammering against his ribs anxiously. "Are you at the skate park?"

Crap, he knows. He always knows. "Look, I just... needed to clear my head and took a little fall. I'm fine, can you just𑁋"

"Stay put," he commands, leaving no room for argument. "I'm coming to get you."

"What? No, Chan, it's fine𑁋"

He cuts you off, refusing to hear your protests. "Don't move. I'll be there in ten."

He hangs up before you can utter another word, quickly tossing a shirt on and grabbing his keys, helmet (and a second one), and of course, your skateboard bag. As Chan throws the bag over his shoulder, a sharp pang of worry hits him. He knows you're downplaying the fall and everything else going on, but the tremor in your voice paints a different picture in his mind, and he seems to be listening to his heart more than he ever thought he would.

All he could think about is you.

Chan knows not to pry, but it isn't the first time this has happened𑁋where you 'clear your head' in the middle of the night and run away from home for a few hours. But the thought of you alone and hurt gnaws at him more than he cares to admit.

Pushing aside the questions and worries for later, Chan rushes out the door, the roar of his motorcycle echoing through the hushed night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. As he speeds towards the familiar silhouette of the skate park, a million scenarios play in his mind, each one twisting his gut tighter. He forces them down, focusing only on one𑁋getting to you and making sure you're okay.

The wind whips past Chan's helmet, carrying with it the sting of the cool night air and the echo of your shaky voice. He rounds the last corner, the skate park coming into view, bathed in the dim glow of a streetlamp. He catches a single glance of your figure leaning against wall with your skateboard abandoned not that far away, and his heart jumps into his throat.

He throws the bike into a skid that leaves a dark streak on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath his tires and the engine sputtering to a halt just beside you. You flinch at the sudden noise, looking up with wide, surprised eyes. Before you can speak, he's already hopping off and jogging towards you.

Something jumps in your stomach when he takes off his helmet, the streetlamp above illuminating the worry etched on his features and windswept, messy hair. Chan kneels before you, the gravel biting into his knees as his gaze takes note of the way you're gingerly clutching down at your ankle.

The concern in his eyes makes your defenses crumble. You open your mouth to explain, but he silences you with a gentle hand on your knee.

"Don't talk," he murmurs, voice surprisingly soft. "Let me see."

He gently pushes your hand away, his touch sending a spark through your already jittery nerves, calloused fingers lightly brushing against away the dirt clinging to your slightly swollen ankle. You wince at the contact, breath hitching at the unexpected touch. It's not painful, but it's strangely electrifying.

"It looks swollen," he states, carefully brushing his thumbs over the affected area. "Can you put any weight on it?"

You hesitantly try to wiggle your toes, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up your leg.

"Fuck, ow," You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the shame and embarrassment burn at your cheeks, making you want to sink into the cool concrete beneath you.

He's always right; you weren't fine. You hadn't been fine for a long time, but admitting it to yourself felt like opening a dam of emotions you weren't sure you could contain the longer you stay here, and you aren't sure if Chan being in front of you was helping with that or not.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Chan asks, voice a low rumble that vibrates through the gravel where he kneels. You can't help but meet his gaze, searching for judgment, but finding only concern and a hint of something deeper you couldn't decipher, or didn't want to acknowledge.

You shrug, hating how weak the gesture feels, pulling back your leg away from him slightly. "It's okay, just a twist."

Chan's jaw clenches, the concern on his face morphing into something else, something you couldn't quite place. "Just a twist? Y/N, it's the middle of the night, you're alone at the skate park, and you can barely stand. It's not okay."

You feel your chest tighten. "I told you I just needed to get some air. You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. I'm fine."

His eyes narrow, and you catch a glimpse of something raw and intense flickering in them.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, coming out a bit harsher than intended. "What if you... what if something bad happened and you couldn't call for help? Do you think I wouldn't want to be the one to find you?"

His words hit you like a physical blow. You flinch, the vulnerability you'd so carefully guarded threatening to spill out. God, you hate that he could see through you, hate that he cares so much, hate that you couldn't hate it no matter how much you tried.

"No," You mumble, swallowing back the heat threatening in your eyes. "I don't think you're stupid. It's just..." Your voice trails off.

"It's just what?" Chan demands, voice tight. "Just another night where you disappear and leave me wondering if you're okay? I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."

His words suspend heavy in the air, the only sounds coming from the occasional crickets and the rhythmic thump of your heart echoing loudly in your ears. You could only stare at Chan, his intense gaze boring into you, and feel a dam within yourself start to slowly crack.

Chan lets his eyes roam over you, and a twinge of guilt seems to twitch at his lips, his eyes softening noticeably, but barely. He lets out a sigh.

"Come on," he says firmly. "I can't let you stay here alone, not tonight. Let me take you back to my place, okay?" His eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent plea struggling beneath the surface.

He rises from the ground and offers you his hand. The heat radiating from his skin sends a familiar jolt through you. Hesitantly, you place your hand in his, his fingers warm and calloused as they intertwine together clumsily, like you're testing some type of waters. Then he lifts you with surprising ease, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through your ankle, making you tighten your grip on his hand.

"Sorry," he murmurs, concern flickering in his eyes. "Let me know if it's too much."

You shake your head, unable to find your voice. You're a tangled mess of emotions𑁋relief, embarrassment, and a fluttering nervousness that you can't quite explain. He helps you onto the back of his motorcycle and secures the extra helmet around your head, before stepping away to collect your skateboard from the ground. Then you feel his hand cup over yours, bringing it to secure around his waist, the warmth of his body pressed against yours sending shivers down your spine.

"Hold on tight," he instructs. As the engine rolls to life, you feel the vibration through your body, and you scoot yourself impossibly closer to him, tightening your hold around his abdomen even more.

The ride to his apartment is a blur of streetlights and rushing wind. You cling to him even more, not entirely sure if it's for balance or something more, but it's awfully comforting and... intimate.

You lean your head on his back and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and warmth that seems to calm you more than it should. Shifting your eyes up, you steal a glance at Chan, the moonlight casting long shadows across his determined jaw and windblown hair. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every shift of the bike, and a strange sense of safety washes over you. You feel a slight tug at your lips at the thought.

As the motorcycle comes to a stop outside Chan's apartment, you linger for a moment, the gentle rumble of the engine fading into the quiet night as he puts it into park. The warmth of his body still lingers onto yours as he takes off his helmet and hops off the bike, before turning around to help with yours.

The brush of your hands against each other sends a jolt through the two of you. Chan quickly pulls away, his hand hovering awkwardly by your helmet, but the heaviness in the air lingers. You look up at him, his gaze flickering between your face, before he fully slips the helmet off your head, hand lingering in the strands of your hair for a moment.

He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your eyes again.

"I, uh... should get you inside," he finally says.

You only give a nod. But as you attempt to step off the bike, the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg, bringing a wince to your face.

"Here," Chan says quickly, kneeling before you again. "Let me help."

He carefully scoops you up in his arms, the familiar scent of leather and warmth enveloping you once more. This time, you don't try to pull away, your heart pounding against his chest as he carries you inside.

He takes you to his kitchen, helping you sit on top of the counter, and you can't help but let out a quiet, soft sigh of relief. As he draws away from you to rummage through the drawers, you glance around his kitchen, noting the small stack of dishes in the sink, the motorcycle magazines scattered across his little eating area, and an empty bowl of cereal𑁋a glimpse into his life you hadn't seen before.

It's silent when it all happens, almost too silent it's suffocating. But as Chan comes back to you with an ice pack and a bottle of pills, you could only watch him. The soft light from the hanging lamp above bathes his face in a warm glow, and you catch the way his gaze lingers on your face a moment too long.

He reaches out, gently placing the ice pack on your swollen ankle. His touch is light, almost tentative, yet the cold feeling makes you flinch, but Chan's hand rests gently on the skin above your ankle, the other cupping at your knee. There's a part of you that wants to pull away from him, from everything happening right now, but you don't. You don't want to. You can't. He's worried, frustrated, and maybe even a little hurt, and you understand why. You've pushed him away again, and he's tired of it.

"I..." You start, a tremor betraying your words. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Chan glances up at you. "But you did," he replies lowly. "You always do. And it scares the hell out of me."

The tension hangs thick in the air as Chan's words sink in.

"I-I'm sorry, I really am," You mutter, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's just... things are hard at home, and I don't know how to deal with it. Being away just seems to... clear it all up a little bit, you know?"

"Then why run away when you can run to me?" He's standing right in front of you at this point, one hand still on your knee.

"Why do care you so much?" You counter almost defensively, feeling yourself tense right under his gaze.

"Because the more this happens, the more I realise I don't want to be your friend anymore," he answers simply, then lowers his voice. "I can't be... just your friend anymore when I want to be the person you run to."

The world freezes. Everything freezes, and you could only stare at him with widened eyes and a pure look of shock. Nothing but silence stretches between the two of you, and the hammering in your chest only grows stronger by each passing second.

Chan lowers his gaze to the floor, taking his hand off your knee and running it through his hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have..." He catches a glimpse of the bottle of pain medication right next to you. "Let me get you some water𑁋"

"No, wait." You grab at his hand, causing him to halt, and he looks back at you. "Don't... go yet, please?"

Chan hesitates, before giving in, finding himself standing right back in front of you, the two of you almost eye-level. Except you shoot a quick look at his lips, then up to his eyes, before letting the hand wrapped around his wrist pull him even closer to you, to the point where he's almost standing between your legs.

His breath hitches from the sudden closeness, but he shouldn't be like this right now. Not when you're hurt and vulnerable. He can't tell you that he wanted you the moment you met two years ago when you rolled past him one day on the way to the same skate park, can't tell you that he would choose you over everything else in a heartbeat.

But all those thoughts are pushed away the moment he feels your lips on his, and his hands come naturally to your waist, as if afraid you might slip away. His lips seemingly mold perfectly with yours, and you can feel the longing in the way his fingers seem to tighten its hold on your shirt.

Your lips part for a brief moment, and there's a long moment that passes before Chan leans in again, capturing your mouth a bit more fervently, a bit more passionately than before, yet nonetheless still sweet and tender. The world outside disappears, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the gentle glow of the kitchen light above.

When you both pull away, there's a breathless pause.

"Are you... are you okay?" he asks cautiously. "I'm sorry, it just..."

"No, I'm... I should say sorry for... everything," You cut him off. "I shouldn't have made you worried or... pushed you away. I'm sorry."

"All I ever want is to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His hand is back at your knee again, finger tracing reassuring shapes, easing the tension out of your body.

You let out a nervous, light-hearted chuckle. "We're not even together yet and I'm already causing you so much trouble."

Chan's expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin.

"Who said I wasn't yours yet?" He leans back in, teasing his lips back against yours. "I can be, if you want me to be."

another note: ending is a lil rushed im sorry oops i wrote this rlly late 😭

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziees @mirxzii @bookyeom

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writingwithciara · 4 months

Text

Missed Goal ~Quinn Hughes~

summary: after the devils beat the canucks, quinn returns to his apartment, where his roommate has a plan to cheer him up

word count: 2.3k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

notes: I feel so bad that quinn didn’t score a goal in the game against his brothers. Like my heart physically hurts just thinking about. My poor baby ☹ Anyways, I think there’s a touch of anxiety speak closer to the end but that’s pretty much it for triggers/warnings

masterlist

“Are you sure you can’t come to the game tonight?” Quinn asked his roommate as he rushed around their apartment, grabbing his gear. He looked up at her and waited for a response.

“I really wish I could but I have to work tonight. Sorry, Quinn.” y/n looked at her roommate and smiled. “But I will be watching from here and I’ll be cheering for you. You’re going to do amazing tonight.”

“I really appreciate that. Thanks.” He looked at his bag and then back up to y/n. “It’s not going to be the same without you there, but at least I know you’ll be cheering for me here.”

“I’d cheer for you anywhere. And that’s a promise.” y/n smiled and walked over to him, extending her pinky. He wrapped his pinky around hers and placed a kiss on it. It was a simple gesture. One they did before every single game.

“When I get home tonight, we can celebrate. Win or lose.”

“You’re going to win, Quinn.” y/n smiled at her best friend. “You may be playing against both of your brothers and they may be great but you’re better. You got this, Hughes. Now go and dominate those Devils.”

“Thank you for being you.” He grabbed his bag and walked out the door. Y/n went to her computer and began doing her work tasks.

A few hours later, she turned the game on and abandoned her work to cheer for Quinn. When Jack scored during the first period, she cheered. She wanted to be happy for the boys but whenever something good happened, it was never Quinn. Jack scored, Luke scored and it seemed like every other player got a goal except Quinn. He did get an assist but that didn’t make y/n happy. Instead, she felt extremely bad for him.

Every time the camera would cut to him, he would look defeated and that broke y/n’s heart. It was bad enough he always felt somewhat inferior to his brothers when it came to hockey, but for the commentators (and even some fans) to constantly point that out, was a little upsetting. She knew he would be upset when he got back home so she decided she would make him feel better.

She ordered his favorite food, knowing he’d be hungry when he got back, and she set out some relaxation options for him to choose from. All of his favorite ways to wind down after a game. As she admired her work, she hadn’t realized how long it actually took to set it up until the front door opened and she heard the keys hit the table.

“Hey. I’m home.”

Y/n walked out of Quinn’s room and when she saw him, her heart felt like it was barely hanging together. His hair was a mess and it was hard to tell but it looked like he got dressed in a hurry and that his shirt was inside out.

“Hey.” y/n stepped closer to him as he ran his hands through his hair for what was probably the millionth time since the game ended an hour ago. “I saw the game.”

“I was kind of hoping you didn’t.” he chuckled lightly.

“And why is that?”

“I didn’t want you to see how much I messed up tonight. I don’t ever want to disappoint you or make you regret cheering for me.” He sighed and collapsed on the couch. Y/n sat next to him and pushed him to continue. “I feel like I should be playing better this year but I’m not. And maybe that’s because I know Luke and Jack are better players and it’s terrifying.”

“Quinn, you didn’t mess up tonight. And even if you did, I would still be proud of you.” She looked at him and smiled kindly. It was the smile that always brought him back when he got lost in his own head. “Jack and Luke may be good players, but they only got that way from watching you do what you do. You’re an amazing player and an even better big brother.” She looked at him again and noticed he was focused on her words. She also noticed how hard he was trying to hold all his emotions in. “I ordered from your favorite restaurant so let’s eat and once you’ve got a little bit of energy back, we can talk, okay?”

“Oh, you’re the best.” Quinn smiled a little as he reached for the takeout containers. As they ate, the faint sound of the tv playing in the background seemed to relax Quinn a little bit but y/n could tell he was still stressed. When he finished, Quinn put the empty container on the table and looked over at the girl sitting next to him. “Have I ever told you much I appreciate you? Because it’s really true.”

“You have told me a few times before but really, it’s the least I could do. I mean, you’re allowing me to live with you for pretty much free so being the best roommate I can be is what I’m doing in return.”

“You know, I honestly thank god for bringing you into my life.” Quinn admitted.

“You should thank Jack because if he hadn’t come up to me at the beach that one time when we were 8 years old, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, either way, I’m beyond grateful that you’re here and that you’ve been here for so long.”

“Awe, Quinn. You’re gonna make me cry.” y/n smiled and touched his arm gently. The action made him get a little nervous suddenly. When she removed her hand, he felt heat where it had been. Suddenly, everything felt different. The atmosphere became warm and intense but Quinn couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “So, anyway, I have some options to help you relax. Go in your room and pick out whatever it is you want and I’ll make it happen.”

Quinn got up and quickly walked to his room. As he looked at each options carefully, he thought about everything y/n has ever done for him. She has put him first in every possible situation and she’s always there when he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knows exactly what’s going on in his mind at all times. They’re connected in a way that is unexplainable. She is the only one he knows he can come to when he’s feeling the stress and pressure of his career and he knows that she can easily lift all the worries away, even with a simple smile. Suddenly, it clicked. He was falling in love with her.

He picked up the bath stuff and walked back out to the living room, where y/n was busy cleaning up.

“So, how will you be relaxing tonight, Quinn?”

“I’m gonna take a nice hot bubble bath and think about some things.” He smiled and headed towards the bathroom. “Thank you.”

While he did his thing in the bathroom, y/n figured she would set up a mini movie night for after his bath. She popped some popcorn, set out some other snacks and put out a few drinks. She even queued up one of his favorite movie. Monster’s Inc. She knew he would enjoy something light-hearted and fun to finish off the night.

After nearly an hour of Quinn being in the bath, y/n started to get worried. She walked over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.

“Quinn, you alright in there?”

“Yeah. I’m doing alright.” He chuckled from behind her. She turned around and Quinn was walking out of his bedroom and was in the middle of putting his shirt on. Y/n found herself staring at his body and the way his muscles flexed as the shirt went over his head and over his torso.

“I, um, got a movie all set up and ready for you to enjoy. I know how you like your alone time so I’ll just be in my room, finishing up something for work.”

“No. I want you to enjoy the movie with me. I had plenty of alone time in the car on the way to and from the game, plus that time in the bathroom. I think after the night I’ve had I would really love the company. Especially if it’s your company.” He mentally cringed at the last comment but when he looked at y/n, she was sporting a big smile.

“Well, in that case, I would be honored to be your movie buddy tonight.” She guided him back to the living room and started the movie.

About halfway through the movie, y/n glanced over at Quinn and he looked like he was lost in his head again. She paused the movie and softly placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently playing with the hair that was there. He closed his eyes and thought about the calmness her touch brought him.

“What’s on your mind, Cap?”

“Be honest with me, alright?” he looked at her and when she nodded silently, he closed his eyes and continued to speak. “Am I actually a good player? Or do people just like me because of my brothers? Is Jack a better hockey player than I am? Is Luke?”

“In my honest opinion, I think people love you because you’re incredibly good at what you do, not because of your brothers. You have a kind heart and I love getting able to see that loving side of you every day. People might like Jack better because he’s good looking and they might like Luke better because he’s just adorable. But you wanna know what I think? I think you’re one of the best damn players the NHL has ever had. You’re not a perfect player, but nobody is. Not only that, but you are kind, funny, smart, loving, caring and just perfect in pretty much every sense of the word, Quinn. Some people may not like you, but who cares? You have so many more fans than anyone can count. And your biggest fan? Well she’s sitting on the couch with you, reassuring you that you have no reason to worry. She ditched her work responsibilities to watch you play against your brothers and her heart broke whenever the camera showed that you were upset. She is your biggest cheerleader and wants you to know that she would never favor your brothers over you. Your biggest fan loves you a lot, Quinn. More than you could ever know.” y/n moved her hand from the back of his neck to his arm. He looked at her to search her eyes for any sign that she was lying but he couldn’t find any.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

“I love you.” He looked at his hands nervously. He had never told a girl he loved her before and now here he was, spilling his soul to his best friend. It made him worry that she would reject the idea. But when she began to run her hand up and down his arm, he felt better about his confession. “And I want you to know that I have never said those words to a girl before so this is new for me.” He took the chance to look at her and when he saw her smile, he knew he needed to get everything out. “I’m not sure when I started feeling this way but I honestly think the feeling has always been lingering in my heart. You have always been by my side and even though Jack is the reason we met, I love that you always preferred me over him. You are the one person in my life who has never loved my brothers more than me, and I love you even more for it. I love you and everything about you, y/n. You make me feel so much better, even on the gloomiest days. The ones where I don’t want to talk to anyone and stay in my room. Those are my favorite days because even though I say I don’t want to talk to anybody, you always find a way around that and you cheer me up with absolutely no effort. And living here with you these last few years, watching the amount of guys that would stay for a night and be gone by morning, killed me. I didn’t know why at the time, but now I’m sure of it. Y/n, I’m really in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t say a word. Instead, she grinned and moved to straddle his lap. She didn’t break eye contact once. “I’m in love with you too, Hughes.”

And with that being said, their lips met in the middle and fit together perfectly. With each passing second, the intensity behind the kiss kept on growing. Years of feelings being poured out into one simple action. When y/n’s lips parted, Quinn took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, eliciting a small moan from the girl on his lap. He placed his hands on her back and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. His large hands found their way under her shirt and rested on her waist while hers were tangled in his now extremely messy hair.

“Is it bad that all I wanna do is stay in this position for the rest of my life?” Quinn asked when they finally took a moment to breathe.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” y/n pulled him in for another intensely passionate kiss.

All 3 of the Hughes brothers ended up scoring that night.

-----

taglist: @worldlxvlys @jackquinnswife

#quinn hughes #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader

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