#(my tags are where i tell all my best and worst jokes) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-leclerc · 1 month

Text

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series, angst, yearning, reminiscent

word count: 3k

cherry here!...you guys, this is it! while i am sad to see it end, i am also so happy for those who tagged along and read this little mini series; i love you all. and so i ask: can i break your heart one last time?

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 6

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

“I can explain!” you gasp, eyes frantically glazing over to where Charles messily packs his suitcase. “Please, just let me—”

“Sure.”

You come to a sudden halt, blink, and a single tear falls. The Monegasque smiles gently, though a red tint paints his cheeks from trying to not explode due to his fury.

Nothing but a squeak escapes, struggling to find the right words. You felt pathetic; like the worst person to ever walk earth because you were the worst person to ever walk earth. He almost wants to laugh and you can tell by how his lips tug upward in the slightest, and that itself makes you want to hurl over sobbing. This was all a joke to him, of course it was.

The brunette takes long strides over to where you stand in the kitchen, weakly leaning against a wooden chair to help your legs to not give out. You had been so surprised you were even able to run up to the house, clumsily twisting the knob and looking for him. He crunches down a bit, looking down at you with dark eyes, and grabs your face with his right hand. You wince.

“Let me make things easier for you; did you know who I was when we first met at the beach?”

“N-no. I swear to God that I did not know a single thing about you—”

“Did you ever truly enjoy my company as a friend?”

You breath hitches at him even considering the possibility that you never did, but he takes it the wrong way as his jaw clenches. “Of course I did! Charles, you’re the best thing that has—”

“And did your boss ask for you to write this article or was that all your idea?”

The light in his eyes have long dimmed, but your answer crushes the rest of his soul as you look down at his chest and then back at his stern glare. “It was all mine.”

It’s all a blur, and you’re sure you let out a yell when he disconnects from you and wipes his hand across the table, sending a singular plate flying before it roughly hits the floor and recklessly shatters. For a while, it’s complete silence; you can faintly hear the sound of crickets, the wind that sings, his ragged breath and your silent pleas. It’s both beautiful and ugly, all at the same time.

You’re sure to be careful and step around the porcelain dish, steadily making your way over to him. It kills you when he stumbles back as you inch closer; as if you were some type of toxin he knew best to stay away from. It took him a while, but he knew that now.

“The reason I came to the Amalfi Coast was to get away from work; the pressure, the—”

“You think you’re the only one?” he spits out sourly. “You’re not fucking special, we all have our own shit! Except some of us are decent human beings and don’t seek other people for our own benefit.” The twenty-six year old shakes his head. “Grow up.”

The room is spinning, and the walls are closing in on you, but you continue. “I never had the intention of hurting you and I swear I didn’t know who you were up until Nico. He mentioned enough for me to grow curious and that’s when I searched you up.” You release a shaky breath, chest tightening like a fist. “My parents never believed I could make a living out of journalism. No one did.”

Charles stands quietly, orbs tracing your breathless state. “I kept trying to be the best, but everyone was always five steps ahead of me, and I…” Returning your attention back up, you grimace, aware of what you’re about to confess. “And I thought having a Formula One driver as a friend might help get me there.”

When he doesn’t answer, it allows you to drown in an ocean of shame, finding it hard to face his guarded stare. As a way to pass time, you lick your salty lips, runny nose making you cringe.

“A-and then I got to know you.” Don’t do that, he warns coldly, but you push past it. The room is arctic almost, but you try to find strength and warmth in between the memories. “And for the first time in all my years of living, I felt at peace with someone who was my own reflection. You make it so easy; you’re kind, down to earth, funny in all senses, and you never fail to make my heart feel like it's going to fly out of my chest.” The rest of your words get stuck in your throat despite stupidly trying to say them out loud. Then again, he probably wouldn’t like it.

“At first I felt bad, but my hands were still able to move against my keypad; I was sure you would understand. But the more time we spent together and grew closer to one another, I knew that would never be the case. And my fingers felt stiff, they weren’t my own, but I had to do it—my job depended on it, Charles,” you whisper.

The Monegasque had never felt so conflicted in his life, not even when debating whether to resign with Ferrari. A part of him understood completely, and the other was torn. Okay, he murmurs, awkwardly pinching the tip of his nose and then releasing. “If you need this so badly, you could’ve been honest. I won’t be untruthful and say that I wouldn’t have been a bit thrown off, but not disappointed like I am now.” The blow punches a staggered breath out of you, fumbling back, dragging the chair along.

“That’s the thing though…you should have asked for permission,” he pressed, tone harsh, distant, venomous. “And yet you didn’t. You went behind my back, just like everybody else. I actually thought…” His voice cracks and he looks away, blinking rapidly as if pushing back his own tears. “God, I’ve been so stupid thinking you actually cared enough to get to know me.”

Somehow the ability to move re-enters your body, instantly drawing you closer but still giving him enough space. “I did—I do care. I care a lot. Because I’m like that—that is who I am! You’re it for me, Charles; I fucking care.” There. The words were right there once again, and yet you continue vowing anything but them. You’ve run out of breath, ran out of words, and you could only wish there was something there valuable enough for him to accept.

The brunette seems to understand your revelation, even if you think he doesn’t. It makes his heart palpitate as if he just ran a marathon and he hates it. He hates that it had to be this way. In some other dimension, he confesses first. He admits defeat because that’s how worthy you were to him. Because he loved you. And you loved him. But that’s somewhere else; somewhere far away—something far too unattainable.

“You’ve used everything against me, what more do you want?”

The waves must’ve heard your conversation because the once wild sound is now slow, gentle, soft. You almost wish they picked up for your own sake; to swallow the sound of your whimpers. “I told you about Lewis’ contract in confidence, but good for you—you’re the first one who will release the news, so, you got it. I’m sure everyone will congratulate you for that.”

“Drugs aren’t a joke, but did you really have to out me like that? It was my choice, sure, but did you even think about what will follow?” He scoffs. “You’ll get clicks, millions, but I’ll get looked down on by everyone around me. The media, my team, my fans.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind, God, why hadn’t it crossed your mind? You open your mouth and then snap it back shut. Charles runs a hand across his jaw. “But fuck, I don’t care about any of that—not as much as the pin.”

“Charles—”

“That was between you and me. My father was a clever man; a believer. I’m neither of those things, but I’ve tried my absolute best. And you’ve killed the last bit of it.” You suck in a breath; you can feel your eyes getting smaller, skin puffier. “Do you know how hard it is to have faith in yourself as a driver? It’s exhausting.” A beat. “But that golden horse was enough for me to keep going and now it’s tainted.”

There’s no more sounds flying past your lip, but the acid rain hasn’t slowed down, only intensified. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted to happen, Charles…I am so sorry.” Closing the gap in between you two, you thread your brows together softly. “If I could take it all back, I would. I would have never gotten an interview out of you without your knowledge, y-y-you have to believe me,” you plead. He only nods, green eyes flickering down to your rosy lips, then shut tight. When he opens them, it hurts, because you don’t recognize them anymore.

“You took it from me…But I would’ve given it to you.”

The atmosphere is something astonishing; the colorful fireworks, the deafening cheers, the cameras, the podium celebration—it truly took your breath away. And he deserved all of it.

It’d be half-witted to think he would agree to this; he had every right to turn you down. Rightfully so, he could have. He should have, you think to yourself as you nervously click your pen. You didn’t keep in touch after that summer, so it made perfect sense for you to think that he would look rather different.

But as he makes his way over, chatting with his PR manager, he looks just the same. Yes, he’s older; a bit more tired looking than the last time you saw him, much leaner, and his smiling crinkles have expanded like a beautiful sight. But he was still Charles to you.

“Congratulations,” you quip when he reaches you with a knowing look. Stuttering, you point over at the screen that replays his terrific race. “Y-y-you were incredible. World Champion, eh?” Complete silence. Can we get a minute to ourselves? The older lady hesitantly agrees, strolling away. You click faster, heart rate picking up as you watch her go.

The Monegasque licks his lips. “You showed up.”

Somewhere in the distance, you can hear fans screaming his name, the flashes shuttering brightly; you’re honestly impressed you were able to find a place to talk. “I said I would, no? I, um, also have this…” You extend your hand out towards him and his breath hitches,

Nothing would ever shine as bright as gold. His trophy is utter counterfeit compared to the prancing horse that winks back at him. His green eyes blink slowly for a while, almost as if he doesn’t recognize it, but that quickly dies as he reaches for it.

His simple touch grazes past you but it zaps you to the point where you jump up a bit, and he does too. The fireworks up in the open sky were doing a fantastic job at interpreting what you were feeling at that very moment. Charles clears his throat, orbs tracing his reward. His golden cup was great, but this?

“Thank you.” And it sounds so sincere that you almost release a cry. “I really appreciate you keeping your word. I know I didn’t keep mine.”

He hadn’t. But you understood. The wedding invitation had been sent to him and he never responded. He never showed up. You never figured out why you were so surprised, but you were. “You were busy. I get it.”

Tension lingers. “How’s work?”

Work was great; easier. You guess that's what happens when everyone finally applauds you. It took a lot of strength for you to publish the article, but you did it anyway. Do it, he mumbled that night as he walked out of your life for three years. Don’t let all of this be for nothing.

Running your sweaty palm against your dress, you hum. “I’m chief executive now.” The Monegasque lets out an impressed whistle and for the first time since you landed in Abu Dhabi, you smile. “Eleanor retired a while ago and apparently loves me now.”

“How could she not?” You grow stiff. “How is Grayson? I’m sure the wedding was great, by the way.”

His eyes flicker down at your ring and you beam. His heart breaks just a bit when your eyes stare down in adoration. “He’s amazing—he’s right over there, actually.” Your husband is far enough away, but he could still see it all. The little boy giggles up at his father and you laugh.

Charles smiles. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

“Thank you. But tell me, champ; how do you feel? This shit doesn’t happen everyday, now does it?”

“A lot of work and patience, but it all worked out at the end. Which I’m glad because I was close to blowing my brains out.” You playfully pout, red lips curling into a familiar look.

“Still going to stick around?”

“A couple years or so…” His gaze shifts over at the rest of the grid who eye you two suspiciously. Even to them it was clear that there is history that will always remain. “I think I could do it.”

You tilt your head, hair falling over your shoulder. “I know you can, Cha.” The newly World Champion freezes and then shakes his head, avoiding your vibrant eyes. “Question,” you mumble.

“Ears,” he retorts, voice painted with humor.

“Do you ever…” You’re too embarrassed to finish your sentence, too afraid to face the possible answer. The Monegasque chuckles, a single hand over his heart and it takes you back to your last day with him in Italy where the weather was perfect.

“No regrets.”

His confirmation shouldn’t have been enough to reduce your forever heartbreak, but it manages enough. Releasing a weak exhale, you curiously peek over to where he retreats a gem. Your gem. The shiny pearl radiates, nearly making you blind, but it's new look is something that tugs at your heartstrings.

“Where did you…how did you?”

He shrugs, slipping it onto your ring finger; but on the right hand as the left now had an owner you loved back. “A friend of mine proposed to his girlfriend a while ago and I had it laying around and I just…” You blink with glossy eyes. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” A wet laugh slips out, hugging him like a blanket. You chew on your bottom lip. “I’m so happy you kept it safe; thank you so much.” He blushes, large hands brushing his damp hair back. “You know, sometimes…sometimes I think about you.” His name is mentioned on the large screen, but he’s not concerned by any means. Green eyes are focused on you; they always have been. “It’s mainly in the shape of a nightmare, but hey…” He winces. You continue. “It’s not your fault though, I brought it upon myself. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“You shouldn’t have.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “But don’t worry about it anymore; I forgive you.”

You can’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders. You don’t even care how sweaty he is, you don’t at all. You’ve kissed him twice in your life, but this had to be the best interaction you’ve had. You didn’t deserve it—you were well aware—but he had always been kind. Even to people like you.

Hot tears slide against his red fireproofs and he doesn’t dare pull away. Your sweet scent was still the same, but more mature. Your body was just as he remembered, but he could feel the small belly forming; you’re someone's home. He swears he feels a kick and his heart stops. Alas, you pull away with a rosy nose and swollen eyes. You giggle, wiping your teardrops.

“I think about you all the time, too.” He fiddles with his fingers. “But mine aren’t nightmares; they’re dreams.” A heave leaves you, pursing your lips. “They’re blurry, but they’re my favorite. In them, you didn’t step all over my heart. In them, you’re mine. And in them, I’m yours.” The pearl glistens harder. “And in them, I tell the truth that’s stuck with me from the moment you stepped foot on stage, rusty microphone in hand.”

He must think you’re having a breakdown by the way you crazily stare at him, but you’re not. You practice the shape of his nose, his lips, his brows. You admire his freckles, his watercolor eyes. Since when did they have a pinch of gray?

Charles takes a step towards you, but gets caught by the gate that separates you both. It’s up to his hips and he curses for it even being there. But then again; it was a sign. You must realize that too when you sigh sadly, delicate hands tracing the cold metal. “I loved you then.” A beat. “And I love you now.”

A sob is all heard as your face disappears, pressed against your hands, hiding. They grow louder and everyone must assume he made the pretty journalist cry or maybe it was her pregnancy. Maybe it was both. Separating to look up at him, you smile melancholic. “Do I even have to tell you too?”

“You don’t have to,” he clarifies. “Because I know.”

The feeling was bittersweet; it was more than that, but you would survive. Everything will forever stay in the Amalfi Coast, and you will cherish it all.

The Monegasque knocked out on the beach. The bar. Nico. The AirBnB. The love. The heartbreak.

Both ends were content. You would never truly get over that last summer, but you had others to care for now. He would never truly heal, but for now his job kept him busy. You were both at your prime. Just not together.

Clicking your pen, you nudge your notebook with a weak smile.

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…Can I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

253 notes · View notes

formulaa-1 · 1 year

Text

instagram au⛱️ G.R

fem!reader x George Russell

a sneak peak into the Miami GP with y/n and George and a little suprise… <3

y/nusername’s story

georgerussell63

georgerussell63: vibing in Miami☀️⛱️

tagged: y/nusername

Liked by y/nusername, lilymhe and 304,368 others

view all 579 comments

y/nusername: mwahh😚

Liked by georgerussell63

georgerussell63: I love you❤️

y/nusername: I love you🫶🏼🫶🏼

landonorris: ew guys

georgerussell63: where’s your gf at ?

landonorris: oi

user28: the girls are fighting again

fan2729: lando in the comments 😭

mercgirl101: the cutest couple ❤️

y/nusername

y/nusername: lil Miami dump <3 ft. mr serious :)

tagged: georgerussell63

Liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe, alex_albon and 97,292 others

view all 138 comments

georgerussell63: i might be serious by I’m most serious about u 😉

y/nusename: smooth👀

landonorris: George has rizz?

georgerussell63: more rizz than you mr lando norizz

user09: BAHAHAHAHA

ln4.fanpage: George’s reply to Lando has me in tears LMAO😭😭😭

georgerussell63

georgerussell63: my pretty girl in Miami 🌊☀️

tagged: y/nusername

Liked by y/nusername, lilymhe, yourmumsuser and 388,789 others

view all 456 comments

y/nusername: I love you but why did you have to post the last photo 🥲🫶🏼

georgerussell63: because your beautiful baby.

grussellgirly63: STOP IT RN.🥹🥹❤️

fanoflh44_: I need a man like George Russell fr

user356: brb sleeping on the highway tonight.

georgerussell63

georgerussell63: y/n, you make me want to be the best version of myself ,you love me on both my worst and best days and for that I’m forever thankful for you.I love you so much and I promise to always love and cherish you and I’m so grateful I have you in my life and that I’ll get to call you my wife. I love you ❤️

tagged: y/nusername

Liked by y/nusername,alexalbon, lilymhe and 742,257 others

comments on this post are limited

y/nusername: I love you so much G❤️

georgerussell63: I love you most pretty girl ❤️

lilymhe: congratulations you two🥹🫶🏼

Liked by y/nusername & georgerussell63

alex_albon: congratulations!!!!!❤️

lewishamilton: congratulations both of you ! roscoe says he misses y/n!❤️🐾

y/nusername: I miss roscoe,also tell him he can be the ring boy🫶🏼

y/nusername

y/nusername: my forever, I truly am the luckiest girl on the planet, G i love you so much and I can’t wait to be your wife.❤️

tagged: georgerussell63

Liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton, yourfriendsuser and 156,995 others

comments on this post are limited

georgerussell63: I love you , I can’t wait for you to be Mrs russell ;)

y/nusername: I love love love you❤️

yourfriendsuser: congratulations angel ❤️❤️

Liked by y/nusername

landonorris: congrats 🫶🏼 can I be like the godfather or something when you have a kid ?

georgerussell63: no go away

y/nusername: we kinda already told lily and Alex they could be the godparents😬

landonorris: you better be joking

alex_albon: 😏😏😏

authors note🎀 hey guys sorry I haven’t posted an au in like a week Iv been so unmotivated ,sorry about that! I’ll try get through the requests as quick as I can <3 I hope your all okay and doing well ! take care of yourselves 🫶🏼

#f1 instagram au #formula 1 #instagram au #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fiction #formula 1 imagine #george russell x you #george russel x reader #george russell x y/n #george russell x reader #george russell #gr63 #mercedes amg petronas

550 notes · View notes

liyawritesss · 1 year

Text

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: Ellie Williams x Black!Fem!Reader

From: The Last Of Us Part II (Game Series)

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: What would it be like to fall in love with the smart-mouthed badass Ellie Williams in a world recovering from a zombie apocalypse?

Warnings: mentions of game-canon violence, mentions of weapons (primarily guns), mentions of blood, mentions of mental illness, cursing

A/N: Yet another tag I gotta fill with x black!reader, cuz lets be honest - let Ellie get a black gf; all manners and common sense are going out the window. JOEL IS ALIVE AND WELL IN THIS

Tags: @verachii @percsane

You and Ellie first met when she was sent to your little garden/apothecary to assist you in finding some plants that had been rebudding around the Jackson community area. At first, she was apprehensive to the idea - why did she of all people had to go out and collect fucking flowers and leaves? - but her mouth had already gotten her into trouble today, and she couldn’t bear another lecture from anyone, so she bit her tongue hard and went to find your little greenhouse near the center of town.

Her amazement comes across as a look of confusion when she steps into the greenhouse. She’s met with a pleasant scent of lavender, bundles of it hanging from the doorframe. She finds you tending to some plants in the middle of the room, and when your eyes lock, her breath catches in her throat, because holy fuck, no one told her that this herbalist lady was her age, and fine as fuck.

You greet her with a smile and hand her the list of things needed, telling her to take her time since you know that some of them may be difficult to find. She flips through the notebook you’ve given her, paying special attention to the detailed drawings, commemorating them to memory, before she sets off with only the thought of pleasing the herbalist girl with her findings.

When she comes back, it’s the dead of night, and she’s a bit durtied and bruised from what you’re sure to be a fight with some undead, but she has every item on the list you’d given her. From that point on, the two of you became close acquaintances, friends, and more.

She finds your presence so peaceful. When you’re up making ointments and remedies for the patrol squads, she joins you with her sketchpad. The two of you sit together in perfect silence, some jokes being shared here and there. Her sketchpad quickly fills up with drawings of you doing various activities - drinking tea, watering plants, grinding leaves into powders, making dyes, etc. Watching you becomes her favorite pastime.

After a while of knowing each other, she becomes more comfortable with being a smartmouth with you, and is excited when you match her energy. You always have a rebuttal to one of her remarks and it sparks something in Ellie that urges her on more and more.

She becomes more touchy, too, though that aspect is primarily reassured by you. Although neither of you have disclosed much information about your past, you can tell she’s been through a lot, and could only imagine the worst when she would pull away from your touch in the beginning. It takes a long time, but the sweet hugs shared after accomplishing yet another supply run for you were definitely worth the wait.

And they’re quite literally the best hugs you’ve ever had. It could be a simple side hug with her pulling you by your hip to her chest, or it could be one of the longer ones, where her arms slip around your waist, her head dipping into your neck as she inhales your scent. You love them all.

Ellie claims that all your plant stuff is boring and lame, but she’s so very attentive when you’re rambling off a new herb or a new concoction you’ve made, and learns the names of the flowers you like the most. She soon learns that lavender is your favorite, which is why it hangs everywhere around the greenhouse, but also because it smells heavenly and reduces anxiety and provokes calmness. It quickly becomes her own, too.

She loves when you braid her hair. The two french braids leading into a bun is her favorite style, and even though she’s always messing it up when she’s on patrol, fighting and escaping from zombies and enemy groups alike, you’re happy to wash and redo her hair every time.

Ellie’s confession obviously doesn’t go the way she planned. And yes, she did plan on confessing to you her affections at some point, but she tells herself that she’s waiting for the right time. While part of that may be true, the bigger picture was her general fear of rejection - which was absurd to her, she never gave two fucks about what people thought about her. But when it came to you, everything mattered.

You’d never looked at Ellie’s notebook before. It was her privacy, and you were one to respect boundaries, but when she left the book open to go talk to Dina and Jesse about something, especially on a particular page that had your face drawn onto the cream paper of the sketchbook, your curiosity took over your senses.

It was a drawing of you drinking tea and reading a book. You remember that day - she was exceptionally quiet that day and only wanted to be around you. So you let her chill in the greenhouse with you while you did your normal routines. The intricate and detailed lines on the page sparked something in you that you thought you had pushed away, a surge of emotions reawakening in your stomach.

Ellie comes back in and nearly goes into a rage when she sees you seemingly flipping pages in her sketchbook, and although you try to reason with her, she’s not having it. She thinks you invaded her privacy, and she continues to think so as she leaves the greenhouse for the evening.

She comes back though, at the dead of night as you’re cleaning up and setting things up for the next morning, looking remorseful like a lost puppy. She apologizes, and you come to sit next to her, your legs touching, and you tell her that you accept her apology.

Ellie pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes for what seems like forever, before she begins speaking. The way she speaks is damn near contradicting about she feels about you, but in the end she gets her point across - she likes you, a lot, and needs to know how you feel about her in order for her to get some form of clarity and sanity back to her brain

And you tell her that you feel the same, that you’re attracted to her in such a way and so strongly that it shouldn’t even be possible - surely isn’t wise or sane considering the times the two of you currently live in, and yet, you still found yourself yearning for the brunette when you knew you shouldn’t

At this point the two of you are impossibly close, and the way Ellie’s eyes keep darting between your own and your lips, it’s definitely got a pool of heat swirling in your stomach. And before either of you realize it, her lips are on yours, and you’re experiencing your first and the most electrifying kiss of your life. And just like that, you become Ellie’s and she becomes yours

She makes a vow to protect you in every possible way she can. When and if you do go out on the search for supplies, she’s always accompanying you regardless of whatever she may have been doing prior. She teaches you how to use a gun and a bow and arrow (of which, you favor the latter) so that you have the skills to protect yourself when she’s not there.

She never let anyone talk to you any kind of way, but its amplified now because she has an obligation to make sure people know who the fuck they’re talking to. No one talks out the side of their neck to her girl and gets away with it. If all she does is curse them out, as long as they get the idea and don’t pull anything anymore, all is good.

Introducing you to Joel as your girlfriend is the most awkward thing for her…and you better believe he’s poking fun at her about her stellar choice in a significant other (trust me, he’s been waiting for this moment, because he just knew that she’d go after you of all people in the community. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in on organizing your initial meeting. He’s definitely the wingman Ellie didn’t know she needed.

She doesn’t engage in PDA, but when it’s just the two of you alone? Best believe she’s getting her fill of hugs and kisses whenever she can. You’re not promised tomorrow, so she wants to love you to the fullest extent she can.

Brings you back flowers from her patrols that you don’t even ask for, but because they’re pretty and remind her of you. You can try as you might to tell her you don’t need them - it’ll only provoke her to bring you more

On the longer nights where she’s too exhausted mentally and physically to speak, she curls into you and just lets you take over her senses. It’s a rather rare occasion, so you savor it while it lasts. You take care of Ellie at her most vulnerable and that’s all she could ever really ask for from someone.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#black reader #black tumblr #black tlou #tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 ellie #the last of us 2 ellie #tlou2 x reader #tlou2 x black!reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x blk!reader #ellie x black!reader #ellie x reader

454 notes · View notes

daddyy333 · 1 year

Text

Sensitive | Lo’ak x fem!omaticaya!reader

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.9k

warnings: readers very insecure and shy, reader was technically bullied as a kid, ?

summary: Y/n was always told she was overdramatic and sensitive growing up, so she kept quiet and didn’t tell anyone when something bothered her. Now, watching her mate potentially fall in love with another woman, she’s too worried about overreacting and refuses to say anything until eventually she can’t handle it anymore.

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

“It’s just a joke”

“You’re too sensitive”

“It doesn’t even matter”

“Why do you care so much?”

“You’re overreacting”

Your whole life, you’ve always been sensitive. It wasn’t hard to bring you down or upset you. You were always overthinking every little thing, analyzing every word a person said and the way they said it. You wished you were different, every single day you tried to stop caring so much but you couldn’t help it.

By the time you turned 18, you were quieter than a mouse. You only talked around your few friends, and even then you didn’t say too much in fear of seeming too sensitive. When something bothered you, you just stayed quiet and kept it to yourself.

Lo’ak thought you were just shy. You were really quiet all the time, but he was so attracted to you; he just had to get to know you. You really loved Lo’ak, more than anything on Pandora. He was so nice to you, and you trusted him and opened up to him a little, and he still accepted you fully.

You didn’t tell him everything though, you didn’t want to ruin something so good. You’d be heartbroken if Lo’ak left you so you made sure you were careful with what you said and how you reacted.

You mated before Eywa and it was a beautiful experience. You both took your time learning each other's bodies and making each other feel good. You were close to opening up all the way after that night, but you were still worried he wouldn’t accept you and all your flaws.

2 years later, you had to leave the forest and it terrfied you. You couldn’t help it then, you burst into tears and cried through it all. The forest was your home. This was where you felt safest. This was where you fell in love, where you were meant to be.

Lo’ak seemed to understand your worries though, and you were thankful. He held you as you cried, wiping your tears and helping you say goodbye to everyone. He felt bad when he could see tears flowing down your face as you rode your ikrans out of the forest.

You made it the Metkayina’s territory and naturally they got defensive and began to try and intimidate you, and the worst part was that it worked. Lo’ak could feel you shaking and he felt bad, wrapping his tail around your thigh and trying to comfort you as best he could.

You noticed Lo’ak look over at a young woman, but he quickly returned his attention to Olo’eyktan and Tsahík again. You looked over at her, ears turned down as you realized how much prettier she was than you.

You tried to ignore it, but when she was one of the Na’vi meant to tutor you guys, it made it hard to forget about it. You were worried Lo’ak would fall for her instead. She was very very pretty, and her voice was smooth and melodic, with the most gorgeous eyes ever too.

Lo’ak was attached to you at the hip the first few weeks. It helped reassure you that he was yours, always. He would always have an around wrapped around you or his fingers intertwined with yours, or at the very least have his tail caressing your back or wrapped around your leg or arms.

But he slowly started getting closer to Tsireya. He’d go sit next to her during lessons and you always sat next to him so you’d follow, and over time you could see the two of them giggling together whenever you took breaks, and she was so touchy in ways she wasn’t with everyone else. At least that’s how it seemed.

You were honestly a little heartbroken, you really hoped he wasn’t like that. You don’t know what you’d do if he asked for a second wife. It’d kill you. The worst part, she’s been trying to be friends with you.

You don’t want to be mean, so you indulge in whatever it is she wants. You’re actually quite close, you tell her lots of things and she actually helps you learn the way of the Metkayina quite a lot. It seems like she tries to talk about Lo’ak a lot, which sucks because it only convinces you more and more that they’re going to get involved any day now.

Lo’ak seems a little distant as time goes on. He’s not making love to you a lot, leaving you lying awake in the late hours of the night trying to ignore your arousal, even with your mate right next to you. He only really makes love to you when your in heat or when he is in rut, but it’s always rough and not as sweet because it’s the only way to relieve the pain.

He also sits with Tsireya a lot at dinner. Or he’ll tell her to come sit with you guys. You come close to snapping and telling him just how much it’s bothering you countless times but you don’t want to risk being seen as dramatic.

You find out you’re pregnant and initially you were overjoyed, excited to become a mother and forever grateful to Eywa for this gift. But then your heart sinks. How would Lo’ak react? You were worried about everything now. Would he still love you after all the changes your body was about to go through? Would he be even more distant?

When you told him he nearly screamed, picking you up and jumping around out of pure excitement. He threw you over his shoulder, making you scream as he ran out to the main gathering place for the clan and said “I’m going to be a father!”

The surrounding people laughed and congratulated you guys, and when his family came out, he ran to them and said “you’re going to be grandparents!” And instantly had Neytiri sobbing. He finally put you down and you groaned, nauseous from all the movement.

You were less worried realizing how excited he was, and it seemed like things got better after that. He was always taking you on dates, rubbing your bump and talking to the baby constantly, helping you through your morning sickness when he could, and he was always hunting and bringing you your favorite foods to keep you strong and healthy.

You concluded that maybe he was a bit distant the last few months, but you’d be okay now that you were about to become parents and he was so present now. Obviously he still spent time with Tsireya, which you didn’t mind, but every now and then you had your doubts.

He took you on a date night, preparing a sweet dish for you since all you wanted to eat were sweet things and took you swimming with Payakan, telling him how the baby was kicking now and showing off your bump. You rolled your eyes playfully at Lo’ak, he was convinced that your bump got bigger every single day.

Payakan let you guys rest on his back and watch the stars until you got tired and fell asleep cuddled in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He fell asleep not that long after, keeping his hand on your bump to hopefully soothe your very active baby and keep it from kicking you all night.

When he woke up, you were still sleeping peacefully, being spooned by him as you mumbled softly in your sleep. He smiled to himself, kissing your head and caressing your bump. He felt the little one move slightly and he couldn’t help it as he blushed a little.

He spent a few minutes with you before he got up and had payakan bring you closer to the island and told him to wake up at sunrise if he wasn’t already there. He got to the island and prepared all his things to hunt for your favorite things right now and spent about 2 hours hunting.

He came back with tons of food, enough to last you a few days and immediately woke up Tsireya to help him cook it the way you liked. He wanted to celebrate today, as it was your 3 year anniversary and you were already halfway through your pregnancy. He was so excited, he almost wanted to leave Tsireya to finish cooking so he could go spend time with you.

You woke up to Payakan moving wildly and you quickly walked over to where he could see you to calm him down. The sun was halfway up, and you realized Lo’ak wasn’t with you anymore. You frowned slightly and noticed Payakan bringing you close to the island so you assumed Lo’ak was already there.

You greeted Jake and Neytiri as you happened to walk past them on the way to your marui pod and of course had to let Tuk talk to the baby for a few minutes and let them feel the little one kick. Tuk was so so so excited for the baby to come, she was asking almost every day if the baby would be here soon.

You eventually continued your journey to your home and when you got closer you heard some laughter and giggling. You recognized Lo’aks laugh but there was someone else’s. You listened for a few more seconds and realized it was Tsireya.

Every insecurity came flooding back and tears filled your eyes. Was this his plan the whole time? To have you sleeping quite literally across the ocean so he could spend time with her in your home.

You opened the flap and she was next to him, holding his hands trying to show him how to grind up these herbs properly. You scoffed and said “Lo’ak…” He immediately looked up and his eyes widened.

He smiled and said “hi, baby! How are you feeling?” “W-Why is she here?” You asked quietly, tears in your eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and said “she’s just helping me make you breakfast. I’m making all your favorites today, and she’s a better cook than I am so I needed her to help me��

You bit your lip and shook your head, you didn’t buy it. No way she was just here to cook and that was it. You turned around and left, going to the spot you and Lo’ak always go to to spend time together alone and uninterrupted.

Tsireya looked up and said “is everything okay?” “I- I-I don’t know. Do you think I should follow her?” He asked and Tsireya thought for a moment, nodding. He quickly thanked her and went out looking for you.

It took him a while to figure out where you’d gone, but once he did he was running as fast as he could. He got to your secret spot and found you crying, leaning against the rock you two always sat by.

“Baby…y/n, hey hey what’s wrong?” He said and you sniffled. You wiped your tears quickly and said “nothing. I’m fine, I’m just overreacting, it's nothing” “no, no honey. Hey, look at me. Talk to me,” he said and you looked up at him, eyes wet and nose tinted pink from crying.

“I just…y-you’ve gotten really close to Tsireya lately and I…I’m worried that- t- t-that uhm…” you said and stopped yourself shaking your head. He sighed and said “you’re worried I’m unfaithful?” You let out a small sob and said “I-it’s not that I don’t trust you- I-I just I can’t help it sometimes. I know it’s stupid! Just go away”

“Why do you think I’m cheating?” He asked, wiping your tears. You let out a shaky breath and said “well y-…you guys are just always really close. You used to always w-want to sit with her at dinner, a-and sometimes you used to choose to be with her instead of me. E-Everytime Tsireya and I talk she wants to know about you and our relationship”

“It’s not what you think, my love. I…I asked Tsireya to get close to you so she could tell me how you were feeling about our relationship and know what to work on to keep you happy. I- I-I know you’re very quiet and shy and I know if I ask you directly you’ll tell me everything is fine so I needed someone else’s help” he said and you gasped slightly, burying your head in your hands.

He pulled you into his arms, stroking your back and letting you cry. “It’s okay, babe. I know you were just worried about our relationship, and you had every right to be. I can understand that it might’ve looked a certain way from the outside” he said and you shook your head.

“I-I was being sensitive and overdramatic like always” you whimpered and he sighed. He kissed your head and said “why do you talk so poorly of yourself, my love? I don’t think that about you, no one does” “That’s not true…” you said and he furrowed his eyebrows yet again.

He pulled you from his chest to look in your eyes and said “who tells you these things?” “I…when I was a child, I-I used to be made fun of a lot. Even m-my parents would make comments. Everyone a-around me felt that way. I just stay quiet now, s-so no one gets upset at me anymore” you said and he shook his head.

He kissed you softly and said “let me see…please?” He grabbed his kuru and you looked up at him nervously. You nodded and grabbed yours, connecting them. You took a deep, shaky breath and he kissed your forehead, caressing your hand with his thumb. You let him see everything, every memory you had of it all.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, tears in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve that. Honey, you aren’t overreacting, you have real concerns and worries and I want you to tell me all of them. Don’t ever shy away from talking to me and telling me how you feel. We are about to become parents, don’t you think we shouldn’t keep secrets?”

You nodded and he smiled sadly, kissing you softly. “Why uhm…w-why…” you said quietly and stopped yourself. He could hear your thoughts through tsaheylu, you were wondering why Tsireya was there making breakfast with him.

He shook his head and said “because today's our 3 year anniversary and you're halfway through growing our little princess” You smiled and sniffled. You chuckled and hugged him.

He rubbed your back and said “you’ll never have to worry about me hurting you. I never will. If I did, I promise you it was never intentional and I’ll apologize every single day for the rest of my life” “you’re a really good husband, you know” you said, sniffling softly.

“I try,” he chuckled. He kissed you a few times, nuzzling his nose against yours. You smiled and said “oel ngati kameie, ma muntxatan” “oel ngati kameie” he said and nuzzled his nose against yours once more.

You giggled and said “you know, the baby is realllly hungry” “is she?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“We do not know if it is a girl yet,” you said and he chuckled. He rubbed your bump and said “I just know it is. She’s my little princess. And you’re my queen” “what's uhm…what’s a queen again?” You asked and he chuckled.

You still forgot human concepts here and there which he found adorable. “Like an Earth Tsahík. But way less cool” he said and you nodded, giggling. He stood up and he held his hand out to help you up.

He brought you back to your pod and Tsireya looked up and noticed your slightly reddened nose and cheeks and your still slightly teary eyes. “Oh…oh my, are you okay? Is it the baby? Is something wrong? We should get you to my mother” she said and you shook your head.

“I’m okay, Reya. The baby’s okay too. See?” You said and placed her hand on your stomach where they were kicking softly. You hugged her and she gasped a little, looking at Lo’ak as she hugged you back.

Lo’ak waved his hand dismissively and then gave a thumbs up. She rubbed your back and said “here, have some breakfast. I hope you like it” “mmm, you guys better get some while you can because it’s not gonna be here for long” you said and chuckled to yourself.

Lo’ak smiled at you as you made yourself a place and said “she was just worried that I was unfaithful because of how much time we spend together” They both giggled quietly to each other.

“I should’ve known,” she said and sighed. He shook his head and said “no, no its okay. As much as I wish she didn’t feel that way for so long, some good things came out of it” “like what?” Tsireya asked. Lo’ak bit his lip in thought and said “it’s kind of between us,”

“Ah, I see. Well, take good care of her and write out instructions for lunch and dinner for you while you eat” she said and patted his shoulder, quickly leaving the pod. He smiled to himself and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

You hummed and held a piece of fruit behind you for him to eat. “Come on, let’s eat on the shore” he said and you brought your plate out with you as he dragged you out of the pod, forcing you to sit in between his legs as you both watched the sun fully rise and relaxed together.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @goddesslilithmoriarty

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#avatar #avatar 2 movie #avatar imagine #avatar the way of water #lo’ak x omaticaya!reader #lo’ak sully #lo’ak oneshot #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak fic #lo’ak fanfiction #lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak fluff #lo’ak x you #lo’ak sully x reader #lo’ak avatar #lo’ak x pregnant!reader

303 notes · View notes

darsynia · 1 year

Text

Hand(s) Off | Ch 5: Chemistry

(Steve Rogers/f!Reader sex pollen-esque multichapter)

gif by @chrisevansedits

STORY MASTERLIST | STEVE MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Summary: You and Steve have to navigate the aftermath of the overexposure to Mistress, and something tells you that your mood swings and inability to self-satisfy is directly related to the drug...

Length | Warnings: 3,880 | sexual situations MINORS DNI

Fill: Adoptable ‘Pheremones’ from @allcapsbingo

Tags (please request!): @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreads @mrsevans90 @hails270105 @venusfalling

Excerpt:

He’s wearing jeans that fit him like a second skin, a tight gray tee, and an unbuttoned long-sleeve blue flannel, which feels distinctly unfair. Somehow he looks every bit as handsome wearing this casual get-up as he had the night before in his suit pants and blue jacket.

“You, uh--” He sounds upset, and you glance up. “Bruce says we need to be looking more at each other than not,” Steve offers with a wince.

“Right. Twist my arm, right?” you joke.

His brows furrow. “If you’re--”

“Steve! You’re handsome as hell. Not a hardship, is my point,” you tell him.

“Ah,” he says in response, and oh. There’s a bit of joy there, not quite pride, but close. If you had to name it, you’d say Steve is deeply pleased, and yep, that’s a jump in arousal, there. “Right back at ya,” he says, almost too quiet to hear it.

“They’re going to have to burn those forms,” you muse aloud.

Chemistry

You wake up the morning after your 1940’s performance feeling more refreshed than you have for weeks. The constant, low-level irritation you’ve had to learn to live with is not entirely gone, but it’s lessened, and for that you’re very grateful.

The plan is to meet Bucky for… something, but he hasn’t made clear what. You opt for a skirt to swish around your legs, voluminous but not bulky. Restrictive or tight clothing has been a no-go lately, making you feel anxious and closed-in at worst and kind of turned on at best. It’s another data point in the line of ‘things that are different since Mistress,’ but you don’t really know what to make of them all. The worst out of everything is your mood, but is that worsened by your inability to come, or is it an actual after-effect?

When you get downstairs after getting Bucky’s text, you’re surprised when he opens the door of a taxi for you. The two of you usually walk everywhere.

“Where we going?” you ask.

“It’s a surprise.” He doesn’t elaborate, instead choosing to deflect in the most unfair way possible: “Steve liked the show last night.”

You keep your expression tightly controlled, but your anxious tone gives you away. “You could have warned me about that! I’m glad he enjoyed it, but--”

“I didn’t plan all that far ahead, okay? I did it because he said yes. To the thing you asked me about.”

Embarrassment blooms from your chest and across your body, and you dart your eyes over to the taxi driver. There’s no way he can know the context, but holding a conversation about impossible orgasms with Bucky had been embarrassing enough, so alluding to it around a stranger is pretty stressful.

“Uh, thank you, then.” Your mind skips past the awkwardness to the substance of the comment, and you slump back into your seat. “That means it’s definitely related.”

“Yeah.”

He looks out the window, and you smile down at your lap. Bucky isn’t the kind of person to smoothe over awkward things with platitudes (which often makes them worse). If he had, you’d never have had the courage to ask about Steve in the first place. You’d probably have rather withered away and died of sexual frustration instead. Not that dying isn’t still on the table.

“You uh, probably should go talk to Dr. Banner,” Bucky says, his voice overloud and uncomfortable. “He’s been running tests on Steve, thanks to his lousy mood and the--” He makes a gesture, but you deliberately look at his face, not his hands.

“He’s been having problems with that too?”

Bucky’s is the kind of expression that anyone who’s ever lived with a grumpy roommate would instantly recognize.

“Yeah, okay,” you sigh, pulling your phone from your pocket. “Give me some kind of contact number?”

The taxi stops, and he points out the window with his thumb. “How about instead, we just do it right now?”

The vehicle is stopped in front of the tower. The taxi driver is already grousing, so as the two of you get out, you hiss at your best friend, “I can't believe you set me up! I didn’t mean now! I need more mental fortitude! Banner’s an Avenger! He knows Steve personally!”

“So do I!” Bucky says, affronted.

The taxi drives off as you glare at each other, and then he sticks his left elbow out like a frustrated chaperone. It’s manipulative in a really brilliant way, because he trusts you with the knowledge that there’s a metal weapon of war under all that fabric. You swallow your pride and tuck your hand in the nook he’s created for you, and he walks you inside.

“I thought you usually went through the side door?” you ask quietly as the two of you wait in the short security line.

“I didn’t want you to have time to change your mind.” Buck grins at you, right as the two of you are guided past the checkpoint and toward the bank of elevators.

“You’re really unbelievable-- and the worst part is, you know it!”

He just settles against the back wall of the elevator and looks smug. It’s midday, so the others who file into the elevator car with the two of you are all in business wear, and you feel intensely out of place in your casual skirt and blouse. Bucky, who is out of place practically anywhere, never manages to look anything but cool.

You settle against the wall beside him, but you must look nervous, because he bumps your shoulder with his as some of the office workers from the lower floors file out. Eventually, you’re the only two left, and Bucky speaks aloud asking to be taken to the floor where Banner’s lab is.

Shall I inform Dr. Banner of your impending arrival? the AI asks drily.

“What’s the fun in that?”

The rest of the trip is short. A few seconds after the two of you step out, Bucky stops you with a hand, his lips twisting apologetically.

“I’m gonna head to the apartment. This is private, and I want to respect that-- but you didn’t volunteer for this whole mess, so if you need an advocate, some of that fortitude you mentioned, just text me.”

You’re touched by this unexpected speech, but you also feel kind of adrift; this wasn’t what you’d expected your day to be like. There’s no chance to respond though, because Bucky ducks back into the elevator after gesturing toward the correct lab.

A surprised-looking man with salt and pepper curls opens the door to your knock, so you blurt out your name, explaining that Bucky Barnes had suggested you drop by.

“Oh! Oh, that’s great, come in, come in,” the man says, offering his hand to shake. “Bruce Banner. I hope Barnes passed on my sincere regrets about what happened?”

He didn’t (you hadn’t wanted to talk about it at all until you’d realized you had to ask about The Issue), so you don’t know what to say. Luckily, Banner has already hurried off to bring over a second chair beside the lab table he’s clearly been using as a desk.

“Have a seat. I should warn you, I’ve already got--”

He breaks off as a woman in a lab coat walks over with purpose. “All blood tests are completed.” They continue talking, but the voice of Steve Rogers behind you derails your attention.

“Dee?”

You spin around in shock. “I’m sorry, I had no idea you’d be here! Not that I would, of course, but Bucky-- Oh, my God,” you realize aloud. “Did you… tell him you were coming to the lab today?”

“No, I haven’t seen him since last night.”

“Actually, this is good,” Banner says, walking over to stand between the two of you with a placating hand held toward each. “I have some theories I’d love to expand on with a few blood and proximity tests. If you’re willing, of course.”

Proximity. You’d noticed last night that being in the same large room as Steve Rogers had mitigated some of the lesser symptoms you haven’t been brave enough to mention to anybody. The same thing is happening now, with the added complication of a really bizarre desire to move closer to him. Somewhere there’s a magnetism joke just begging to be told, but not by you.

“Is this scientific curiosity, or will it help figure out how to regulate this stuff?” Steve asks.

“My own exposure took care of the curiosity part,” Banner says, rubbing a knuckle against the side of his cheek.

“Wow, Bruce, I guess I figured the Hulk’s biology would have cleared that out for you,” Steve says, his expression a mask of concern. “At least you had more data for a solo expos--” He breaks off, embarrassment flushing his face as he looks over with dawning horror at the other occupant of the room.

“No worries, I was whisked home to my husband. We were happy to be part of the ‘control’ group,” the woman in the lab coat says with a bright smile.

“In the interests of reassurance, I’ll tell you I’m in a relationship, and that person and I, ah, handled things,” Banner says, occupying himself by studiously cleaning his glasses. “So yes, there’s data, both from the mitigation of my healing factor as well as the reactions of a wholly un-exposed partner.”

“It’s not often that I get to be a hero, but I think I’ll step in and ask if you’d be willing to give some blood while these two awkward it out? Doctor Lynette Lyonne, nice to meet you.”

You smile gratefully at Dr. Lyonne and nod. She seems like exactly the sort of down-to-Earth person to keep Banner focused.

“That’s a mouthful! I feel like if my dad met you, he’d be asking you if your parents had a limited budget for letters when you were born,” you say as you sit in the chair Dr. Lyonne indicates.

“Ooh, I haven’t heard that one in six months!”

You’re pretty sure the tourniquet that Dr. Lyonne puts on after that is the regular tightness, but you hold very still and keep things polite, just in case.

Dr. Lyonne leaves you alone in that side room after the blood test for a half hour , explaining that they need to keep you and Steve separated as they come up with some proximity tests to perform. You get it: they want to gauge various reactions between the two of you, but the anxiety you feel about being shoved into yet another situation beyond your control is almost making you sick.

Finally, the door opens and Banner ushers you out and down the hall to a different room. There’s a second, smaller space inside it made up of transparent walls and a vinyl ‘roof’ thing above it, and Steve Rogers is standing in there.

“We’ve rigged the room with all kinds of monitors, and if you are okay with it, I’d like to put some heart monitors and such on you. Steve is already rigged up with a microphone in case I need to tell you two anything, but I won’t be able to hear anything the two of you say. Steve?” Banner calls out, turning around and making some gesture you can’t see. In response, Steve lifts his shirt, showing that he does indeed have a series of medical patches connected to wires placed in various places on his splendid chest.

“Dr. Banner, you’re contaminating our results!” Dr. Lyonne objects, shoving a file folder over to block your view. “I guarantee that her heart rate just went up.”

“Shit, I didn’t think of that. Uhh…”

Grabbing Banner’s lapel mic, Dr. Lyonne leans into it and says, “Banner and Rogers, cover your eyes!” She grabs the patches and comes over. With her help, you unbutton your blouse and the two of you place them in record time. Under her breath, the doctor mutters, “Blessed with two of the most ethical red-blooded men on the planet, thank fuck…”

Two minutes later you’re closing the door of the half-room-sized enclosure they’d constructed, standing closer to Steve Rogers than you’d been since you’d met, nearly three weeks ago.

“Hi,” he says, clearly the most awkward person in the building. It’s absurdly charming.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

You’re both holding a clipboard with a pencil, and Steve nods at the one in your hand. “We’re supposed to fill out our initial reactions.”

There are two chairs placed twelve feet away but facing each other. Instead of sitting down, you plant a foot on the closest one and brace the clipboard on your knee. The questions are… a bit much, asking what your arousal level is (which is not zero, but you try having a zero arousal level around a man who can fuck like that) , how calm you’ve been in the last week, last twenty-four hours, and last hour before coming in the lab, stuff like that. They only take a minute or two to fill out, and when you’re done, you realize that there’s a stack of questions underneath that seem to be directed toward some kind of escalation.

Just what are they about to ask the two of you to do??

“I think they should have fitted you with the earpiece,” Steve says. You straighten up to see that he’s walking to the middle of the room. “They want us to stand six feet apart. Bruce? I don’t want to tell her what to do, okay? That’s--” Steve breaks off and frowns. “Yeah, I understand that, but--” Another pause, and then he sighs. “Okay.” To you, in the most gentle voice you’ve ever heard, Steve says, “There’s no time to grab another one that will work. Please forgive me if anything I say sounds close to-- Inappropriate. I’m not ordering you around. You have every right to say no.”

“This is to help people who might get stuck in a similar situation, right?” you ask, dragging the chair over so you can stand the requested distance away without having to walk over to retrieve it for clipboard-steadying. He nods. “Then it’s worth a little discomfort.”

In truth, the questions on the clipboard are perceptive, because this is the most comfortable you’ve felt in weeks. There’s something calming, something wonderful about being close to Steve. It’s as if you’d been wound more and more tightly the past few weeks, and finally, finally, you can relax. You’re certain it’s related to the drug, and you’re a bit worried about how much of yourself you’re going to put on display when you’re forced to admit that.

The two of you stand looking anywhere but each other, and after a few minutes of darting your eyes over to Steve and back to the floor, he says, “Clipboard time.”

You’re glad to have something to focus on other than whether you should be stealing glances of Captain America-- but then you start writing down your answers to the questions.

How much has your arousal level risen since the previous series of questions? 5%

How much has your comfort level risen or fallen since the previous series of questions? Risen 10%

Privately, you feel like that one is going to have bad data, because what’s 10% of ‘almost as comfortable around another person as I could be, despite the entire circumstances of our acquaintance?’

Do you feel an urge or compulsion to engage in sexual activity? Not really?

“Bruce, these questions!” Steve chokes out. He listens for a few seconds, and then says to you, “He says, and I quote, ‘We’re flying by the seat of our pants, here.’ No kidding!” Nodding as though he’d just heard something else in his earpiece, he then says, “Banner’s asking us to stand a foot apart now. And Dr. Lyonne wants me to tell you they printed a bunch of cards, so there are way more than they need.”

You drag your chair again, nodding. Given that there are something like twenty pages in the stack, you’re mollified. A little. Shit. The arousal thing is… definitely happening. A thought occurs to you, and you’re pretty sure you have an obligation to mention it.

Double shit.

“All right, can Banner hear me at all?” you say cautiously, seeking the mental fortitude you’d mentioned to Bucky. At Steve’s negative response, you nod. “Ok, one more round and then maybe they’ll ask us to stand close enough for that.”

Steve swallows hard. Both of you will clearly have different answers to the next set of questions.

“A little closer,” he whispers to you.

You startle slightly before moving toward him. It feels much closer than a foot, because there’s almost nowhere to look but Steve. He’s wearing jeans that fit him like a second skin, a tight gray tee, and an unbuttoned long-sleeve blue flannel, which feels distinctly unfair. Somehow he looks every bit as handsome wearing this casual get-up as he had the night before in his suit pants and blue jacket.

“You, uh--” He sounds upset, and you glance up. “Bruce says we need to be looking more at each other than not,” Steve offers with a wince.

“Right. Twist my arm, right?” you joke.

His brows furrow. “If you’re--”

“Steve! You’re handsome as hell. Not a hardship, is my point,” you tell him.

“They’re going to have to burn those forms,” you muse aloud. “In fact, c’mere.”

With a bravery borne out of guilt at ruining the findings, you walk right up to Steve and tug at his collar. He doesn’t resist, but he rests a hand on your bare lower arm. It feels as much of a comfort as a warning, and in the strangest way, it reinforces your need to call a halt to this farce.

“Bruce?” you say, lifting up to speak as closely to Steve’s earpiece as you can. Using Banner’s first name is deliberate, a hint at urgency you hope he’ll heed.

“He can hear you,” Steve murmurs. His mouth is close to your ear, and fuck, you’ve made a serious tactical mistake.

“Steve showed up to the restaurant last night,” you say as clearly as you can, given how fully immersed you are in everything Steve Rogers right now. He smells good, of soap and a hint of cologne or shaving cream, and he’s right there, gorgeous and obviously as affected as you are. His grip on your arm is just this side of painful, but you doubt he even realizes. “There’s--” you stop and clear your throat, because that one word was dangerously breathy. Steve’s clenched jaw and tightened grip sends your heart racing.

“The data is corrupted, she’s saying,” Steve breaks in. “Just mark down a hundred percent increase on everything and give us some privacy, will you?”

This is as much permission to push off and away from him as you need. It takes him a second to let go-- the look you exchange as he realizes this is electric.

“Bruce, do it.” The undercurrent of angry urgency in Steve’s tone has you scrambling at the door of your enclosure, and to hell with the clipboard and everything else.

You catch a glimpse of Banner and Lyonne leaving as you rush over to the window and press your overwarm hands to the glass, pulling in huge breaths like you’ve just run a marathon. Nearby footsteps on the tiled floor signal that Steve’s also left the quarantined testing zone.

“I’m--” You stop yourself. “I was going to say ‘I’m sorry,’ but I’m not. The data was already hopelessly corrupted.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“God, this is so screwed up. Do you know, this is the best I’ve felt in weeks?”

“You should be angry with me.”

“Why? Because I got confused, got lost in your apartment and put us in this position? Don’t be absurd.”

“I broke protocol,” Steve says in a hoarse voice. You turn around to see him shaking his head, his jaw set in a miserable line. “I was supposed to head to a quarantine room to get checked out. We get cleared and then we leave. Those rules are set up to prevent--”

You're not having it. “Does it help at all? To feel bad about it?”

“Does it help you to blame yourself?” Steve asks, walking forward, forcing you to listen by sheer command authority.

“Stop being a fucking leader, Steve, and just be a man, would you?” you snap, furious to incandescence that he’s drawing on his Cap persona at a time like this.

“Fine!” he thunders, and reaches out, catching your waist in one large hand as his momentum crashes the two of you into the wall by the window. You’re pinned there, both by his hips and his desperate expression, but Steve gathers the last scraps of his will, holding his hand up and away from where he’d been about to touch you, and fisting it. He closes his eyes tightly and says, “This isn’t me, I’m not--”

“So let’s figure out how to be ourselves and still live through this, yeah?” you say, moving to tug his fist over so you can kiss his knuckles. The raw contact is a pale shade of your previous ferocity under Mistress, but it’s still powerfully erotic. Steve lets out a tiny noise, but you don’t know him well enough to guess whether it’s a sound of distress or lust.

Then his eyes pop open and you suck in a breath at the intensity in his gaze. He’s nodding, turning the hand you’re clutching so he can slide it along your cheek and around to cup the back of your head.

“May I?” he breathes. He’s trembling. So are you.

“Please,” you whisper-- and Steve surges forward, tilting his head to capture your lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Everything about this moment is overwhelming, and you can do nothing but feel. You cling to his flannel, caught up in the exquisite sweetness of his kiss, the way he’s dominating you with his body but drawing you out and teasing you with his tongue. The tension of the past weeks melt away with the heat of Steve’s hand holding you still for him, each sizzling brush of his lips against yours burning through every question of propriety.

His other hand falls to your hips, gathering the fabric of your skirt in a needy fist like he needs more of an anchor than the touch of his lips against yours. The rock of Steve’s hips against you is ruinous, incendiary, delightful, destructive. Inside you, a furnace-dam breaks, unleashing a firestorm of pleasure that rushes straight to your core.

“Oh!” you gasp, breaking the kiss as you recognize what’s about to happen. “Oh, God, oh, thank God,” you babble, even as Steve sucks a frantic kiss to your neck. “Are you --?” you manage to ask.

His incoherent noises of assent against your neck sound just as broken and relieved as yours. You clutch at any part of Steve you can reach as he hitches your leg up to angle himself just right to rut against you. Remembering that he’d needed a personal connection last time, you coax him back into a deep, desperate kiss with a gentle caress through his hair.

Steve pulls back after a few seconds and presses his forehead against yours. Something inside you drags your eyes open, and as soon as you make eye contact, your orgasm sweeps through you, arching your back and drawing a low, satisfied moan from your throat.

“Yes,” Steve crows, and his hips thrust against you multiple times in rapid succession as he is taken by a release of his own. His free hand comes up to cup your face as he pants for breath, but it’s the way Steve holds your gaze through it all that completely strips your soul bare.

Next chapter...

#allcapsbingo2023 #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america smut #captain america x f!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #captain america x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #sex pollen #humor #romance

290 notes · View notes

inklore · 2 years

Text

spellblind

premise: there’s a long list of reasons why peter should ignore the dark thoughts in his head, but none of those reasons gets him you.

pairing: dark!peter parker x bestfriend!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: eighteen+ content, noncon, this is dark as hell so please mind the tags babes, hypnotism, unprotected p in v, creampie, au since spider man don’t got hypno powers but also this is set after no way home, slight obsessed!peter, one sided love, oral sex, marking, mentions of captivity.

etc: this is my first time writing for mcu!peter and i made it dark and messed up, this is shocking to no one lmaosjsj.

kinktober 04 | kinktober masterlist

There’s a part of Peter that knows this is wrong—a section of his brain that is waving red flags and flashing lights telling him to stop, to not let anything go as far as where the dark recesses of his mind are tempting him to.

He’s Peter Parker. The friendly neighborhood spider-man, he should know better—does know better. Was taught right from wrong and always does the right thing. Always stays on that path of golden behavior even when it lands him with blood and bruises, or flat on the concrete.

He’s always playing the good guy; is the good guy, the best guy. This doesn’t make him a bad guy, the worst guy…he didn’t even mean for it to happen. This hadn’t been his intention when he had asked you over tonight.

A simple movie date with his best friend turning into something else entirely.

Something out of his control.

And it wasn’t really his fault. His powers were ever changing, new things being discovered, his body mutating and becoming more insect than man.

Simple interests becoming urges. Simple thoughts and kind acts finished with an ‘but what do I get in return, shouldn’t I be rewarded for saving lives?’ In those newly dark parts of his mind.

He had thought it was just exhaustion. Saving the city, getting his G.E.D and trying to make money to stay in a cheap apartment was easier envisioned than exercised.

He had thought these new dark feelings were nothing a drink at the bar a couple of blocks down, or hanging out with you—his only friend and neighbor—couldn’t fix.

But now he’s realizing that was furthest from the truth, as those dark thoughts have his knee bouncing, fingers tingling for all the wrong reasons; to reach out and touch parts of you he’s only dreamt about. Fantasized about late at night.

One minute you were looking into his eyes laughing at the rom com on his cheap tv, and the next you were still as a board, expression slack, unresponsive. Body compliant as Peter easily shook you to get you to come too.

It was as if you were hypnotized.

As if his thought—as the two of you held eye contact—dark and bitter had manifested itself into his eyes going dark, mind buzzing. Peter coming to to you in this state.

A state that sends him in a panic; until it doesn’t.

Until the dark thoughts win and he’s thinking perverse thoughts that make his cheeks burn hot and cock grow hard against his jeans. Thoughts he shouldn’t be having, shouldn’t be entertaining.

But he’s wanted you for so long.

Longed for you even longer; watching you through his peephole when he was too scared to say hi, cheesy jokes exchanged as the two of you got your mail, both elements soon forming into a tight friendship he doesn’t know what he would do without. He’s already lost so much.

There had been many times he could have confessed his feelings, professed his crush that quickly turned into something stronger—something aching and dreadful each time you didn’t see it. Didn’t get the hint. Ignored all the signs. Dated other people; guys who were no good and only hurt you.

Peter would never hurt you.

He’d treat you the way you deserved to be treated: like a damn goddess.

If only you’d give him a chance.

But maybe he was done waiting. Waiting for something that may never come. Maybe this was his only way of having you. Maybe this was a sign that he should at least know what it’s like to be with you, this way, any way.

Peter tries to make a con list in his head. A list of why he shouldn’t be thinking like this—why he shouldn’t do this.

He really tries to ignore those dark thoughts, fighting tooth and nail against his mind….but you look so pretty in that dress, the dip in the summer fabric showing just the right amount of cleavage.

And it’s like a moth to a flame because the next thing he knows his palm his cupping you. The pad of his thumb running over your nipple, his eyes flashing to yours to see if you react but there’s nothing. No signal or indication that lets him know you’re coherent.

It should stop him, but it does the opposite.

As he pulls down the top of your dress, your bra going with it. Putting your chest on full display to him. A hard swallow bobbing his throat as he stares, mouth watering. Jaw ticking in want, driving him to lean forward and wrap his lips around your nipple. To moan and suck and bite at the sensitive flesh, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he kneads your other breast with his palm. Switching back and forth between the two.

Your skin feeling so soft and delicate against his tongue.

He leaves stray kisses and saliva covered bruises along them. Doesn’t care that you’ll come too later and see them. He wants you to see them, to wonder, to think that they could be from him.

The thought of you walking around carrying marks from him making his cock throb even more; to the point of pain.

That’s why he lays you down on the couch. That’s why he pulls your dress up, why he presses his nose to your underwear and inhales, runs his tongue against the outside of them. Hooks a finger in them and pulls them to the side to reveal your pussy.

A hungry noise hitting the back of his throat when he dives into you, letting his mouth and tongue eat you out with vigor. Memorizing the way you feel against him, the way you taste, the way he groans each time he swallows you down.

When he feels your entrance clench around the tip of his tongue, he has to move back from your body, has to make sure you’re still out of it.

Smirking with the knowledge that he can still make your body come like this. That the two of you can still be connected this way, even with you in this state. Your body still gives yourself over to him. Still opens for him when he pushes his fingers inside of you, your walls quivering around them.

He could get addicted to this. To having his mouth on your pussy, to finger fucking you hard as he runs his throbbing cock against the seam of his jeans, as he makes you come without you even stirring.

And as Peter sits up, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staring down at your body; open legs, thighs covered in your own wetness, underwear thrown to the side, dress pushed up and pulled down, your boobs still on display for him—how could he not fuck you?

He has to. Needs to.

Thinks he might go insane if he doesn’t. If he doesn’t live out his fantasies and finally know what you feel like. Finally fuck you instead of his fist.

So with hesitation still the farthest from his being, he makes quick work with unbutton his pants, pulling himself out and giving himself a few deft strokes before he lets the tip of his cock run through your lips. Mouth hung open at how beautiful the sound is.

A gasp torn from his lungs when he finally pushes inside of you, when your warmth finally engulfs him.

“Oh my god,” you’re so tight, so warm, so wet. He can barely stand it. Can barely catch his breath as he presses his face into your neck, trying to breathe. Trying to not come inside of you so soon. How can something feel this good?

How can something look this beautiful with his cock inside of it and it be wrong?

It can’t. It just can’t.

With his fingers digging into the couch cushion, breaths heavy and groans tumbling from them; he starts to move. Can’t restraint himself from setting a hard rhythm of his hips slapping the insides of your thighs as he fucks you. Your tits bouncing against his chest, body perfect and pliant against him.

“You feel so good, oh my–“ Peter whimpers. Presses his mouth to yours, finally kissing you after all these years. Finally pushing his tongue inside of your mouth, moaning against it, taking another part of you. Making it his. Marking you with bites left on your lower lip, and sucks on the side of your neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he’s chanting. As if you can hear him, as if you’ll ever know he’s fucking you. Losing complete control inside of you, your walls gripping him so deliciously he wants to scream. Wants to fill every one of your holes. To not let you leave his apartment until you’re dripping his come from all of them; until you’re stretched and raw from him going so many rounds with your comatose body. “Forgive me.” He kisses your lips, runs his tongue along yours, “I love you, I need it–couldn’t control it. It’s,” he swallows, “it’s too good.”

He wants to hold off longer. To keep fucking you until his cock is raw, but he’s coming before he knows it.

A strangled sob against your cheek as he fills you up. As he continues slow languid thrusts even after he’s spent, the sensitivity only adding to the darkness of the weight of what he just did. The squelch of his come and your wetness louder than his heavy breaths.

Once his breath finally goes back to normal, once his thrusts stop, he pushes himself up to look down at you; to see his come leaking from your pussy and staining his couch. Your chest and neck marred by him, lip having the smallest of cuts on it from how hard he bit you in his lust fueled fury.

You look just as beautiful as ever, if not more now that there’s remnants of him inside and outside of you.

He got what he needed. Finally fucked his best friend, finally showed you how much he loves you.

But…his cock is still hard, and you’re still unresponsive.

There’s no reason why he shouldn’t get his fill of you. You have two other holes that need his attention.

Maybe he’ll keep you like this. That way you can be his forever.

#dark!peter parker #mcu!peter parker smut #mcu!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker smut #mcu!peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tw noncon #kinktober #kinktober 2022

1K notes · View notes

jeankluv · 7 months

Text

Snow on the beach || Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: fluff, doflamingo, angst but light and fluff

Note: thank you to everyone who is starting to read this story and the rest of my one shots, I truly appreciate your sweet comments. By the way if anyone wants me to tag them when I post this story please let me know and I will start tagging you. Now enjoy this chapter.

Previous chapter || Materialist || Next chapter

Chapter VI: You are my safe place

Law huffed at his office table. He had arrived earlier than his schedule, but all in order to avoid you. It wasn't that he didn't want to see you, he really wanted to see you and share moments with you, even if they were those in the car where you were singing a Taylor Swift song at the top of your lungs. But since last week when he had to go out of town to see the person he hated most in the world and meet him, he knew that having you around wasn't safe for you. He knew that you were stubborn and that you probably wouldn't give up so easily and would return home sooner or later, so leaving the house before you had been the best option he had seen to avoid talking to you again.

He had an idea of who the person had been who had warned him, not for nothing did he try to get information from you the only time you met. Law leaned back in his seat and rubbed his temple. Years ago he and Corazon had distanced themselves from the family, they had gone to a quiet town, away from everything, away from him. But once again Doflamingo, he had to annoy them.

When Law talked to him on the phone, he actually considered telling Corazon the truth, telling him that his brother had called and that he was up to no good. But instead Law decided to tell him that Penguin and Shachi had been in an accident and he was going to see them for a week.

So yes, he went to meet Doflamingo to see what he wanted. The meeting was really short and unpleasant for Law but the worst thing was knowing that Doflamingo knew about you and that you lived next door. His skin crawled when your name came out of Doflamingo's lips, at that moment he felt like beating him up right there. Doflamingo began to talk about how they both seemed very happy in that town, that Law was paid well and how Corazon seemed very happy as a police officer, all this with the most cynical smile on his face. It was when Doflamingo finally told him what he wanted, money, as always. He said that if he didn’t get the amount he was asking him he would take action on the matter. Law agreed to give him, he wanted to keep both of you saved. But he knew he should be cautious since Monet knew who you were and she was on constant communication with him. He needed to find a way to fire her.

He sighed heavily and hit the table, couldn't he just leave them alone for once? Two knocks were heard on the door, Law wrinkled his eyebrows, it was still early for any patient to arrive for consultation.

“C’mon in.” He said sitting properly and putting on glasses. “What are you doing here?” He said once he saw who was the one knocking.

“Law…” You said swallowing. “I came here because…”

“I told you already that I didn’t want to see you again, didn’t I?” Law said and turned to look at his computer.

“You actually said you weren’t going to take me from the restaurant to my house, nothing about not seeing each other.” You said sitting on the chair.

“Y/n I’m not joking here, leave.”

You shook your head. “No.” He gave you a withering look and you just smiled at him. “Actually… I feel a bit sick. You’re a doctor so… please doctor could you check me?”

“Y/n… you know I can tell when you lie right?”

“Ah!” You cried out, you ain’t leaving that room until you were able to talk properly with Law. “Doctor please.” You pouted.

He sighed. “Where does it hurt?”

You smiled. “Here.” You pointed to your left knee.

He stood up and kneel in front of you. “Can you put your pants up so I can check your knee better?” He said while looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I…”

Shit y/n. You couldn’t really put them up, they were too tight, but when I asked you where it hurt, you only thought of saying the knee because it was true that it had been hurting for a few weeks.

“I don’t think I can do that.” You told him.

“Well then take them off.” Your whole face turned red in that instant.

“Wait… what?”

“Is for the examination y/n.”

“Of course, sure, yeah, hahaha” You laughed nervously.

“Listen, if you don’t feel comfortable, I can get something for you to cover up.” He said standing back up.

“Yeah… that would be okay.”

He nodded and left the room, leaving you there waiting. After your talk with Nami the day before, you had decided that you were going to get an explanation for Law's behavior. And you knew Law was doing his best to ignore you and not see you. You took off your jacket, waited there looking around at his office. You noticed a picture of him with Bepo on the wall, you smiled noticing how Bepo was still a puppy in that picture.

“Law you back?” You said turning around when you heard the door opening. But it was not Law who was in the door, it was the nurse from the other day, the one with the green hair. “Oh hello.”

“Where is Dr. Trafalgar?” She spoke.

“He went to…”

“Honestly I don’t care.” She replied. “I’m here to talk with you.” She sat next to you. “You should stay away from him, you know? Or the boss will have a good reason to make Law his little puppet again. And you probably don’t want that, right?”

“Excuse me… I don’t know what you are talking about…”

“It’s okay you will probably meet him if you keep yourself around him. This is from one girl to another, stay away from him.” You looked away, she was scaring you. Who the fuck was the boss and what did she mean with Law being a puppet?

She left without saying anything else. You were left there without knowing what to say or what to do. You don’t know how much time passed or when the door was once again open but when you came back, Law was in front of you, looking at you with an intense and worried look.

“You okay?” He said. “You are pale…” He said and touched your face. You knew he was probably checking your temperature but that didn’t stop you from turning red and moving your face away from his hand.

“Actually… I think I will leave.” You said standing and turning around to grab your things. “I have to go to work or else Zeff will get mad.” You tried to joke.

“Y/n, something happened right?” He said standing in front of you. “Did someone come here?”

“No.” You said, maybe a little too fast.

He examined your face, he knew you were lying and you knew he knew. “I already told you, you can lie but I will know.”

You looked down trying to avoid his gaze and thinking how to ask the question that was on the tip of your tongue. “Law…” You paused for a moment. “Are you… in danger?” You finally said.

You couldn’t see his face but you saw how his hands closed when you asked that question.

“Don’t worry about me… okay?”

You frowned and looked at him. “How could I not? You can not pretend like I don’t care about you, like I can ignore that someone is threatening you.”

“I have been dealing with this shit all my life, you don’t have to worry but I want you to stay away from me.”

“I can’t do that…”

“Y/n…”

“No Law, you can not ask me that. I want to help you.” You swallowed. “Corazon could help you, he is a police officer, I’m pretty sure he can…”

“Don’t… please y/n stay away from this, from me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re so fucking stubborn aren’t you?”

“You know I am. And I’m not going to let you deal with this on your own.”

“I told you I have been dealing with…”

“Doesn’t mean you have to keep dealing with it alone.” You cut him off, never once leaving his gaze.

He huffed and leaned against the wall behind him, his eyes closed. He massaged his temple, you really were stubborn and seemed to not care about anything he told you, you were willing to continue with him.

“Why y/n? Why do you want to risk yourself for me?” He said looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Because…” You thought of the reason, deep inside of you, you knew why you were doing that, but would you be able to put it out? “I… I care about you and you make me feel like I’m myself again whenever I’m with you, it's like I don’t have to pretend to be someone else when I’m by your side. You are… you are my safe space.” You let everything out, in a rush but it was out. “And I don’t want to lose that.” You added looking at him.

You watched him breathe heavily, but without saying any words. His mouth was slightly open and his eyes moved around looking at your entire face. He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, trying to say something but saying nothing. You didn't think that your confession would leave him speechless and a part of you was regretting having said it. Law swallowed hard, you could see how his Adam's apple moved.

“Y/n…”

“Oi Trafalgar.” The door opened completely, revealing a blonde man with glasses and dressed just like Law. “Oh! I’m interrupting something?” He looked at you both.

“Marco…” Law moved to place him near the man, whose name now you knew it was Marco. “Nothing to worry about, my patient was already going home.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m leaving.” You said and walked to the door. “Thank you for looking at my knee doctor. I will take care of it.” You lied and turned around saying goodbye to both of them.

You quickly left the place, out of the corner of your eye you could see the same girl who had come in to tell you that about Law. You didn't want to stop being with Law, you wanted to continue sharing your trips in the forest, bother him with jokes, make him let you sing at the top of your lungs, see the stars with him again. And yes, with him you felt like you were back to being that girl that you thought had disappeared a long time ago. With the rest of the band you also felt good but with Law it was different. As you felt the cold air hit your face, you blew on your hands to warm up. You really wanted to be able to support Law, in some way. But like that girl, Zoro had also told you to be careful with Law, with the people around him. Was that “boss” so dangerous? So much so that you had to get away from him and Law couldn't do anything about it?

On the other hand, Law was reading the report that Marco had brought him. He was really trying to concentrate but he couldn't stop thinking about you, your words and the strange feeling you had caused in him.

“Earth calling to Law, come back to us please.” He heard Marco’s voice.

“Eh… I think it’s…”

“I think you’re somewhere else.” Marco smiled. “That girl, is the new girl that came here some weeks ago right?”

“Yeah, she is.”

Marco smirked. “You seemed to have an interesting conversation going on.”

“What…? We were… we were discussing some medical stuff, that’s it.” Law shook his head, trying not to seem nervous.

Marco laughed. “Please Law, I have known you long enough to see that what you were having wasn’t a patient doctor conversation.”

“Shut up.” Law rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say lover boy.” Marco stood up and walked to the door, leaving Law alone.

Law leaned back in his chair, thinking again about your words and what he could do to fix this shit. Because one thing that he was clear about was that he did not want you to end up in this mess in any way, for Donflamingo to get close to you. But what could he do? That man pulled the strings in the underworld, he had contacts with the police, who looked the other way when he wanted to do some of his shit.

When he and Corazon came to live here thirteen years ago, everything had been normal. Corazon got a good job as a police officer in the town and he started going to school and making friends. Everything was phenomenal, until Law left to study medicine, that was when he met Donflamingo again and from then on Donflamingo would occasionally ask him for money, with the condition of leaving Corazon alone and letting him live his life in a peaceful way.

Law took off his glasses and growled frustrated with the whole situation, no matter where he looked at it it was a maze with no exit. He got up from his chair and left his office. He didn't have any patients for another hour so he could go talk to Monet and tell her to leave you alone already. He saw her at the reception, with her glasses on, reading.

“Monet.” He called her.

She looked up and gave him a fake smile. “Good morning, Dr. Trafalgar. You came earlier today.”

“Cut that shit Monet.” Law cut her. “Listen, I know what you are up to and you better stay away from y/n. She has nothing to do with any of the shit you and the whole gang are in. So leave her alone and don’t approach her.”

Monet rolled his eyes. “My goodness Law, are you so taken with her? You already know that I only inform the boss about how you are, he cares about you.” Law snorted. “And it's good that the boss knows that you have a crush on a girl from the town, maybe one day he will even come and pay you a visit. “At the end of the day I miss her little brother.”

“The brother he tried to kill? Yeah don’t make me laugh, that man doesn’t care for anything other than money and power.”

“He deserved it, he betrayed the family.” Law narrowed his eyes. “It’s frustrating isn’t it? You can not do anything to get rid of me and besides Law, you will always be part of his family, no matter how much you try to get away or how much you try to protect Corazon. He will always find a way to find you.”

Law turned away from the counter in frustration and without saying anything returned to his office. And it was true, no matter how much he and Corazon tried to escape from that family, they would always find them and if they wanted to harm or harm them, Doflamingo would not hesitate to do so. During the rest of the day he dedicated himself to seeing patients, in the office and on the phone. When he realized it, the sun had already set and the streetlights were illuminating the streets. He stretched out in his chair and picked up everything to leave. He wanted to go home and rest his mind, even if it was just for a few hours.

He said goodbye to Marco and the nurses there and got into his car. He started the car and prepared to go home, but he didn't. For some reason, one that he knew very well, he parked in front of the restaurant. He sighed and looked out the window, there you were. You were wearing a high ponytail, but some of your locks fell in front of your face, and you had a smile on your face as you served the few clients you had that day. He grabbed his phone and connected it to the car, he opened Spotify, an app that for him was practically non-existent before you appeared in his life. He didn't listen to music so he didn't need a music app, right? And to no one's surprise, Taylor Swift was the artist who appeared to continue listening. He pressed play and smiled unconsciously when he remembered how excited she was to sing each lyric of the songs when he took you home.

An hour passed as he watched you say goodbye to Zeff and Sanji. Law got out of the car and leaned against it, waiting for you. He really was a hypocrite, after treating you terribly a few days ago, telling you on more than one occasion that you shouldn't be close, there he was.

When you walked down the small stairs at the entrance and looked up, you felt your heart skip a beat. He was standing there, looking at you and not looking away from you for a second. Waiting for you after work and looking at you with eyes that you couldn't describe or decipher. You approached him, shivering, was it because of the cold or because of what happened that morning? You had practically confessed to him and now you were seeing each other again after that.

“Law… What are you doing here?” You stood in front of him.

“I… I came for you.” He said and you nodded.

“About this morning…” You started to talk but he cut you out.

“Get in the car, you’re trembling.” He said and opened the door for you. You thanked him and got in the car. “You need to buy new clothes, warmer clothes.”

“Yeah… you told me that, remember?” He nodded and started driving back home. “Law about what I said this morning…”

“Once we arrive, let me check your knee.” He once again cut you off, was he evading the topic?

“Are you evading the conversation we had this morning?”

He shook his head. “I’m not, but… I told you, it’s complicated and… I don’t want to put you through something you don’t deserve.”

“I understand… but I want you to know that you have me.” He nodded and you saw the small smile on his face. “And about you being my safe place, listen, you can igno…”

“You also make me want to be myself when I’m with you y/n.” A small oh escaped your lips and you could feel your cheeks redden. “You’re cute peachie.” He whispered.

“Shut up Law.” You turned around, covering yourself. This was embarrassing.

“Oh…” You heard Law say.

“What?” You looked at him.

“It seems like it’s starting to snow.”

You looked ahead and could see how small snowflakes fell on the car window. You smiled. “It really is.” You whispered.

Law smiled when he realized how dazzling your eyes were just seeing the small snowflakes on the window. He was so hooked for you and there was no going back.

Tag list: @phsycochan {comment below if you want to be added to the tag list}

#law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar law fanfiction

75 notes · View notes

hughesmedicine · 1 year

Text

rockstar 2| l. hughes

luke hughes x !lynch reader

one

ynlynch

liked by dylanduke25, edwards.73, rydelfunk and others.

ynlynch: he begged for a song🤭

load more comments..

ynsbestfriend: HE BEGGED??

| lhughes_06: she’s lying, I didn’t beg

| dylanduke25: y/n never lies so

| lhughes_06: I swear she can get away with anything cause of you.

| dylanduke25: yeah cause she didn’t do it?

| ynlynch: knew there was a good reason to keep duker around, love you bestie

| dylanduke25: love you more!

| lhughes_06: she’s not innocent but okay

| dylanduke25: yeah okay, I’ve never seen her do anything wrong

jackhughes: are you guys matching in the last picture??

| ynlynch: are we?

| jackhughes: im starting to not like you again but matching outfits are a no go🫡

| ynlynch: good but if you used your eyes you can tell and shut up.

| jackhughes: hostile and for what?

| ynlynch: many reasons to be hostile when it comes to you.

| jackhughes: okay rude.

ross_lynch: do we finally get to meet him??

| rockylynch: ^

| ynlynch: yes tonight at his hockey game!

ross_lynch: forgot you were dragging us to that

| ynlynch: dragging?? More like you wanted to go and you even bought a jersey with dukers last name on it🫡

| ross_lynch: he’s my favorite so what do you expect me to do???

| edwards.73: I think someone needs to check on duker

| lhughes_06: already on it

| ynlynch: he’s gonna pass out again when he sees me above him lmao

| jackhughes: that’s my worst nightmare

| ynlynch: now I know how to scare you, watch your back rowden

| jackhughes: im not coming to the lake house this summer.

| ynlynch: that’s okay, luke told me where you live and coincidentally that’s where one of our tour dates is

| jackhughes: im moving away.

| rockylynch: wise decision

lhughes_06

liked by ynlynch, rydelfunk, rutgermcgroarty and others.

lhughes_06: saw my girl play right after we won and it was the best way to end the night, so proud of you and your brothers!

tagged: ynlynch, ross_lynch and rockylynch

load more comments..

jackhughes: im so proud of you both for doing amazing tonight!

| ynlynch: Jack being nice???

| jackhughes: gosh I can’t tolerate you anymore.

| ynlynch: there’s the jack I know and love very much, thank you rowden<3

| lhughes_06: thanks bro!

_quinnhughes: I guess since Jack took over the nice role,I get to take over the mean/joking role

| ynlynch: please stick to just being nice..

| _quinnhughes: what’s that supposed to mean??

| ynlynch: if you used your context clues, you could figure it out easily

| _quinnhughes: oh I walked myself into this one.

| jackhughes: welcome to my world

| _quinnhughes: you can take it back, I don’t want it.

dylanduke25: im still in shocked that we saw you guys in concert.

| rutgermcgroarty: no same it doesn’t feel real.

| nolan_moyle: rutgers a fan???

| ynlynch: you didn’t know?? This man talks highly of me to every stranger he meets and he begs for teasers every week😭

| rutgermcgroarty: can you blame me?? Got the best mom out here

| ynlynch: #1 mom right here🫶🏻

| adamfantilli: he is right about the best mom

| ynlynch: you guys are gonna make me cry.

| rutgermcgroarty: group hug in lukes room

| lhughes_06: do not.

| rutgermcgroarty: too late we’re already on our way, thanks for the invite!

rockylynch: thanks for bringing us to the game y/n! I enjoyed it but I’ve never seen ross so hype before

| ross_lynch: thanks for coming to the show! It was fun having you guys there too and thanks luke

| ynlynch: you have to come to hockey games with ross and I more! He goes all out

| rockylynch: I’m coming to more then

| dylanduke25: can I join on this outing??

| ross_lynch: yes!

| ynlynch: gosh you answered fast😭

| ross_lynch: told you favorite player.

trevorzegeras: congrats to you both! also y/n it was fun seeing you perform!

| ynlynch: YOU WERE THERE???

| trevorzegras: no but I wish, luke facetimed me in the middle of it cause I asked him too

| ynlynch: you’re coming to the next one.

| trevorzegras: im actually coming to the jersey show, have a game there that day

| ynlynch: ahhh I can’t wait, bring jamie!!

| jamie.drysdale: im coming either way!! I’ve been waiting to see you perform for awhile!

| trevorzegras: he won’t admit it but he’s been a fan since the beginning

| ynlynch: stop jamie I love you

| jamie.drysdale: love you more y/n/n!

#luke hughes x lynch reader #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes #trevor zegras #jamie drysdale #umich boys #rutger mcgroarty #dylan duke #nolan moyle #adam fantilli #ethan edwards #ross lynch #rocky lynch #rydel funk

378 notes · View notes

loki-hargreeves · 2 years

Text

So Cold

Pairing: mainly Jake Lockley x fem!Reader (established relationship), Steven Grant x fem!Reader & Marc Spector x fem!Reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, suggestive stuff [making out, dirty talk, smutty undertones etc], gun violence, car accident, near death situation [drowning], angst, vulgar language, mentions of blood, hospitalization, character death [you and the moon boys will be fine], hurt/comfort

Word Count: 9,5K

Summary: Your date gets interrupted by Jake’s enemies and you end up trapped underwater.

A/N: Not my best but this concept has lived in my head rent free for weeks. @davosmymaster has been lovely enough to brainstorm with me and also help me with most of the Spanish parts <3 Any and all mistakes are mine!!! 😤

Please don’t come at me for any technical stuff. I don’t know what it’s like to be in a car that’s stuck underwater nor am I a medical expert (I’m basing it on personal experiences). Just enjoy the vibes <3

YOUR POV

“Jake, oh my god!” Your laughter filled the car and his ears, his name fitting somewhere in between the joyous erupts. The sun was setting below the horizon, directly in front of you as the final rays of the day bounced off the deep, dark sea. Everything was golden with hints of pink and orange. Late autumn leaves were carried by the gentle wind, cascading down onto the ground and some landing on the hood of the vehicle surely to be blown away when you’d eventually drive home.

When he looked at you trying to contain your adorable laughter after the terrible joke he told only moments earlier, he swore he felt his heart expand in his chest. Tearing his eyes off of you was impossible, not even the picture perfect sunset being a match to you, the love of his life smiling so wide it reached your eyes. If telling bad jokes always made you laugh like that, Jake would never stop.

Jake was happy.

Truly happy.

He hadn’t known this kind of love and pure bliss prior to meeting you. Before, his existence consisted mainly of protecting others and dealing with the worst of the worst. Every touch he felt was rough and cold, with violent intentions. When he felt your loving touch, he was hooked. It took time but Jake learned to long for it. Jake hadn’t lived much for himself nor had anyone ever protected him. Not that he really needed protection, not like that. But the way you loved him and made him feel was enough. You protected his heart.

That day had been wonderful so far and there was no doubt in his mind that the night would be just as good. Since it was Jake’s day, he had taken you out on a date to surprise you. Sure, there were some bumps on the road; the restaurant he had wanted to take you to was closed due to water damages, the plumbing had seen better days at that place.

That didn’t stop you, no. You and Jake opted for fast food instead and drove to a remote area to watch the sunset and eat your food in the car instead. Sure, it had felt a bit ridiculous to walk into a fast food place in your fancy clothes but in a way, it was amusing. The heels, the dress, the suit Jake was wearing that made it hard for you to keep your hands off of him. If the weather had been nicer, you would’ve eaten outside but winter was nearing quickly. Staying in the car where it was warm, especially when you were only in a thin dress, was much better.

Somehow, that was one of your best dates so far. Just the two of you, the sunset and a lot of privacy which allowed opportunities for you to get all touchy and hands-on with each other without being judged by strangers. Jake never loved the way some people, especially other guys, would look at you. He couldn’t blame them though, because you were an absolute goddess. He felt so lucky to be with you, to be able to call you his girl. People who knew what was best for them knew not to even think about getting between you and Jake. The same applied for you and Marc and Steven. The harmony you all had was beautiful and nothing could possibly disrupt that.

Even the music was excellent tonight because the car was connected to your Spotify account. Jake had put some of his favourite songs in the queue. Right now, you were listening to a tune he always loved to sing and whistle around the flat, más allá del sol. It reminded you of the time he had completely surprised you one evening as he played the song and swayed with you in the living room. Jake Lockley was more romantic than you had ever expected him to be - and you loved everything about it.

“You have something there,” Your laughter faded after a while and you pointed at Jake’s cheek with a mischievous smile on your face. It was clear as day you had something up your sleeve.

“Here?” Jake raised an eyebrow, playing along. He pointed past the moustache he had been growing. They had decided to let their facial hair grow after they all learned how much you liked that. Besides, it looked good. Fantastic, actually.

“More like…” You began as you leaned closer to Jake and wrapped your hand around the black tie around his neck. As said, you two were definitely overdressed for a fast food date. Then you tugged at it, pulling Jake’s face close to yours.

“...right here,” You whispered and shamelessly kissed his cheek, concealing the fact that there hadn’t actually been anything on his face. You just wanted to kiss him. There was no harm in that, right?

Jake felt all warm and fuzzy inside when your lips pressed against his skin. He was sure you were able to tell it made his cheeks heat up, not that he’d admit it. The fact that you were acting like this just to smooch his cheek made Jake feel a lot of things. He wanted to return the favour before you’d drive him mad with your little antics.

“If you wanted a kiss, mi amor, you could’ve just asked,” Jake explained. Yup. He had definitely turned soft but he didn’t mind because it was all for you. He looked in your eyes, willing to get lost in the beauty and mystery that was hidden in them, something magnetizing behind your coated lashes that tried to captivate him time after time - and it worked. They said eyes were the doors to one’s soul, there was no doubt about that when he gazed into yours.

“Making you blush is more fun,” You teased. Of course, you did.

“Oh come here you,” Jake had finally reached the point of not being able to keep his hands off of you any longer. He cupped your face with his hands, fingers resting against the back of your head as he kissed you. It was fierce and passionate, a kiss that instantly took your breath away and wiped away the playful gleam. That was replaced by a burning desire, a need that only he could satisfy and you were willing to do anything for.

Jake’s tongue slipped past your lips as he tasted you, his needy and unabashed kiss making you moan. Not even the music could hide the fact. Your closed your eyes and tilted your head, needing him to get closer somehow. In a desperate attempt, you tangled your fingers in his dark locks, pulling him closer while also holding onto him for support as the kiss threatened to make you swoon. Just one kiss was all it took, the feeling of his soft stubble poking lightly against your skin and his hands now roaming down your body, toying with the straps of your dress.

As Jake pulled back from the kiss with glistening lips, it was his time to smirk.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Jake wondered in a low voice, sending shivers down your spine. It didn’t help that his breath landed on your neck, making you think about just how amazing his lips would feel on the sensitive skin. The answer to his question was quite obvious but he thought it was fun to tease you too.

“Please,” You nodded, running your fingers down his neck and then beginning to work on loosening his tie, “I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked out the house in this suit.”

“Really?” Jake acted surprised, peppering light kisses on your neck, right above your increasing pulse and inhaling the sweet, sweet scent of your perfume, “Maybe I should wear it more often. Had no clue you so into men in suits.”

“Liar,” You rolled your eyes, knowing damn well he knew what he was doing.

“Well you’re in luck, cariño,” Jake rolled one strap off your shoulder, kissing the newly exposed skin rather tenderly, “because I’ve been thinking about fucking you dumb ever since you put this dress on.”

This was the Jake you knew, being so shameless with his words yet the boldness did wonders to you. Those words went right to your core. If he kept talking to you like that as his lips were on a journey to touch every inch of your skin, you weren’t sure you’d be able to wait until you got home. You needed him now.

“Jake…” You whimpered his name, feeling your heart thundering in your chest. It wouldn’t be the first time you two got adventurous outside the flat but you wanted to make sure no one could accidentally see you.

Jake knew that. There was no way in hell he’d ever expose you like that, not when he knew what kinds of creeps existed out there. With a quick glance, he looked past your shoulder and in the side mirror. Now that the sun had set, it was darker outside but not dark enough to let anyone hide in the shadows. In fact, it made it clearer than before that there was a car nearby, parked sort of behind you two. That was definitely odd as your car was blocking the view, there was no sensible reason for anyone to be there.

When Jake put his hand on your thigh and sat up straight, you just knew something was wrong. The look on his face said it all. It’s like his mind shut out everything else and focused solely on the fact that you had to get away.

“What’s going on?” You tried to look behind and out the window, but Jake didn’t let you. He urged you to fasten your seat belt as he started the engine with a roar.

The people in the other car realized they had been caught. Their headlights turned on when they prepared to follow you for whatever reasons they had. It couldn’t be good. Suddenly the mood had gone from excitement to genuine fear. The kisses and butterflies had flown out the window, replaced by confusion and worry. Jake got on the road and began speeding up immediately, knowing the best option was to put distance between you and the people who had interrupted your date.

“There’s a gun in the glove box,” Jake told you with a flat tone. He tried so intently to stay neutral for your sake because he didn’t want to scare you. Jake recognized the car that was now tailing you and that plagued him. If anything happened to you now, he would never be able to forgive himself.

“A gun?” You didn’t know why you were surprised. As the initial shock disappeared, you followed the unspoken instructions and opened the glove box. Just as he had said, there was a gun there. The sight made you feel uneasy. What was happening?!

“Do you remember how to use it?” Jake wondered, needing to know that in case things got ugly.

“Are you serious right now?”

“It’s a yes or no question!” He snapped, not meaning to sound so harsh but neither of you had time for bickering. As he took a look in the rear view mirror, he saw the car coming closer and closer. Cars. There were more of them now, each car speeding toward you at a dangerous rate. Something flashed in the reflection. They had a gun too. Most likely guns.

“Yes! I remember how to shoot, Jake.”

“Good,” Jake hit the gas pedal, taking a rough turn to the right. The road was bumpy and in terrible condition, leading you down the hill. There was water surrounding it which meant that this road was the only way out of there. Either that or a swim in the cold, murky water that was quite the long fall away. Walking through the woods wasn’t an option either.

“Joder!” Jake cursed, angry at the fact he hadn’t noticed the car earlier. His mind jumped to the worst places, thinking about every possible scenario from start to finish. Every what-if was already taunting Jake. What would’ve happened if they had gone by unnoticed for longer? What did these people want from him? From you? Guilt was already creeping up to Jake, squirming underneath his skin like a worm and making him feel sick.

He should’ve been more alert. Letting his guard down for just one damn day had been foolish. Jake couldn’t believe this was happening.

You shook your head in disbelief as you stared at the empty road ahead, squeezing the gun in your hands. Although you were prepared to fight, your mind tried so desperately to distance itself from what was going on. The weapon was heavy in your soft hands. You didn’t want to use it but knew you would if someone threatened to hurt Jake. The thought of anyone wanting to hurt him made you sick, it sparked a raging fire you would never be able to tame. So you took a few deep breaths, chasing away the crippling fear that threatened to get the best of you. This was not the time to freak out.

“I'm sorry, mi vida,” Jake hadn’t meant to snap at you but the situation was stressful to say the least. Stress brought out a different side of him. Jake was a protector to the core but he wasn’t used to working like this. Jake preferred going solo against these assholes. Surprisingly gently, considering the circumstances, he reached out to grab your hand, giving you a squeeze before taking the gun away from you. That was simultaneously a relief and incredibly alarming.

“Who are they?” You wondered, trying to put the pieces together, to focus on facts instead of the terrifying and unreliable conclusions in your head. Everything happened so fast. One moment you had been all over each other and now some shady people were tailing you. Jake was holding the gun. You were awfully aware of your own breathing and it became more and more difficult to control it.

“Bad people,” Jake groaned, being vague on purpose. He was aware of the fact you weren’t doing well and it was killing him on the inside. Truly, it shattered his very soul to know you must’ve been scared out of your mind, not knowing the whats and whys. You had done nothing wrong and yet here you were, being hunted like an animal. If only he had a chance to comfort you, he would’ve. Right now though, he could only focus on getting rid of these people and driving far away from here.

As if to confirm what Jake just said, a shot echoed and the rear window shattered. It was loud and it made you flinch. In an instant, Jake pushed your head down as far as you could go, not giving those people a chance to aim at you. He’d rather catch those bullets in his arm than to have them anywhere near you.

He made sure the road ahead was clear so he didn’t have to focus on steering for the next second or two. Another gunshot was heard which came from Jake’s gun. This one was louder. It made your ears ring painfully which seemed to be the least of your worries. He had the gun pointing at the nearest car from behind his headrest, forcing the ‘bad people’ to dodge too. Jake pulled the trigger again, successfully breaking the windshield and disarming the man in the passenger seat. His bullet seemed to have gone right through his shoulder.

After firing behind a few more times, Jake had successfully gotten rid of one of the cars. It lost its steering and ended up spinning around on the road and disappearing into the rear view. Before you knew it, it was far out of sight.

This was getting nasty.

Another round of shots forced Jake to dodge, giving him a chance to look at the road and make sure nothing was in your way and that you weren’t driving into a ditch. He had been in car chases and shootouts many times before but never like this, never with your life on the line.

Jake had Khonshu’s protection, you didn’t.

“Jake, let me help!” You were fighting your tears, hating how useless you felt.

“Please.”

He opened his mouth to protest, thinking there was no reason to make you do anything unless it was absolutely necessary but when he saw your determined expression, Jake couldn’t just say no. The situation was dire. Focusing on the road ahead while dodging bullets and shooting at people when you were right there was too risky. There was a reason they all had trained you to fight. It was now or never.

“Aim at the tires,” Jake instructed you as he handed you the gun, trusting you. He had to. He wanted you to aim at the tires instead of the driver because he knew taking a life wasn’t easy. Jake didn’t wish that burden upon you.

With a deep breath, you pointed the deadly weapon at the enemy, struggling to see properly through the thousands of cracks and holes in the window of the nearest car that tailed you. As well as you possibly could, you tried to control the tremble in your hands.

Focus...focus!

Before you got a chance to comprehend what was really happening, something hit the side of the car completely out of the blue and it hit you hard. The impact steered you off road instantly despite Jake hitting the brakes so hard that they screetched. Everything became a haze and you lost your sense of balance, dropping the gun in the process. Whether you were upside down or sideways, you had no way of telling. Thud after thud, it became harder to even guess. Hell, it was so sudden you didn’t even get a chance to comprehend what was really going on.

The last thing you picked up before hitting your head against the side of the car was Jake’s voice. He yelled out your name with panic and fear in his voice you had never heard before. It completely broke your heart.

“Wake up, you idiot!”

What the hell?

“You need to get out of the car, Lockley. You’ve got no time to waste.”

Followed by Khonshu's echoing words, Jake felt the brutal sting of the cold that had enveloped his entire body. His eyes opened up wide in surprise and fear. Not only was it cold to the point it felt like his muscles were burning, it was so dark that he couldn’t see anything at all. How long had he been out?

Water was rising rapidly, pouring into the car from bullet holes and rising up Jake’s legs. It had already reached his waist, soaking his clothes and threatening to take the rest of him too. Jake didn’t fear for himself, he found himself worrying over someone else entirely.

You

Were you okay?

“Y/N!”

Jake snapped his head instinctively to his side and reached out to make sure you were there. After blinking a few times while trying not to freak out, he managed to find the light switch on the ceiling of the car. Miraculously, the lights still worked but they were already flickering. They revealed the murky water that was pulling the vehicle deeper and deeper below the surface, with no promise of ending any time soon. It seemed like an endless abyss.

Then Jake saw blood. Crimson had painted your skin and hair, dripping into the water below and washing away into the vast sea. There was a wound on the side of your head that made Jake feel ill. If the water hadn’t frozen his body by now, the sight certainly did. It’s like his heart stopped for a moment when he realized how hopeless this situation seemed. Jake couldn’t believe he had failed to protect you.

You were unconscious, the seat belt being the only thing keeping you from hunching over into the icy pool below your waist. There was a notable dent in the side of the car, the metal compressed together like a crushed soda can. Whether your legs had wiggle room or not, Jake couldn’t tell. Judging by all the blood, the answer was more gruesome than he wished for it to be.

Jake summoned his suit, feeling how the material wrapped around his body and offered some shield from the biting, frosty water. Without wasting any more time, he ripped his seat belt off with ease thanks to his powers. They really came in handy now as the water pressure had trapped you like bugs in a jar. The belt snapped in half loudly and caused Jake to stumble to the side a little bit. He didn’t know if he was injured or not - it didn’t matter. Jake felt the water rising past his waist and chest, ever so surely making the air bubble smaller and smaller.

Khonshu hadn't been lying when he said there was no time to waste.

“Come on…” Jake groaned through gritted teeth, kicking the already smashed dashboard in order to free your body from the trap the crash had created. His movements were slower than he wanted them to be underwater. Either way, the car bent due to the force, freeing your legs. The damage caused more water to flood inside. It splashed around as he searched for your seat belt, hardly feeling his hands at this point. As he eventually found it, he yanked it out of the lock with a snap and caught your body that slumped forward as the belt no longer secured you.

"I've got you," Jake didn't know if you could hear him but he needed to believe you could. It made him feel less lonely.

Jake’s body was trembling uncontrollably, his teeth beginning to chatter as his breaths became forced and sharp. Despite all that, he managed to pull you toward him, guiding your legs up from the leg room and praying to whoever heard him that you weren’t in too much pain. To his horror, he didn’t feel your body heat. Your skin was ice cold - it must’ve been normal under these circumstances. Jake refused to believe there was any other explanation.

In the poor lighting the car offered, Jake could see that his breath was foggy. However, it was more than just alarming when he realized you weren’t breathing at all. Your eyelashes rested against your bloody cheeks and you looked like you were sleeping. Why weren’t you breathing?!

“Amor,” Jake hoped to catch your attention, that somehow you would reply to him and open those pretty eyes of yours. Oh what he would give to see you looking back at him.

Jake needed to drag you out of there and get you the help you needed. That’s exactly what he was going to do. If doctors couldn’t help you then Khonshu had to. If not, Jake would make that old bird regret it for the rest of his goddamn days.

When he didn’t get a response from you and you looked like that, so tranquil and relaxed as death crept around the corner, the entire world around him shattered. There was no way he’d give up on you this easily but Jake had seen enough bodies in his lifetime to see the striking resemblance.

“No, no, no,” Jake had never felt this way before. This hopeless and terrified, like a child in a room full of corpses. It was like hell had frozen over. Everything about this situation was obscure and so fucking unfair. This was not how it would end! Not like this… Jake couldn’t let that happen. You had so much to live for, so many things yet to see and do. He would give his life if it meant you got to keep yours.

If Marc and Steven had been co-conscious and speaking all this time, Jake didn’t notice until now. He was holding you as Steven’s voice broke the silence, carrying above the sound of water filling the space nearly to the brim. At the very same time, the lights gave out, abandoning you all in a void. That made the bone-reaching coldness all the more brutal as it was overwhelmingly the only thing Jake could really feel. Adrenaline was coursing through his body but even that couldn’t block out the chilling temperature.

“Jake, you’ve got to get us out of here! Now!” Steven was frightened, feeling the panic growing stronger by the second. His sense of survival was stronger and so he urged Jake to do something - anything that would ensure you’d live to see another day.

“Ya lo sé!” Jake wasn’t angry, at least not with Steven. He was just frustrated because of the pressure he was under. He knew he had to get out of there and having his alter freaking out too wasn’t really helping.

“Oh my god, why isn’t she breathing? Jake?! Jake…”

Marc couldn’t even speak. There were no words that did justice to how he felt as memories of his past flooded him and merged with the present. He had caught a glimpse of you slack and boneless in Jake’s arms as water surrounded you all the way up to your shoulders, rising up and up.

Steven’s voice faded into the background as Jake got into action. It’s like he spaced out and worked on autopilot. He had one mission and that was to get you out of there alive. Nothing else mattered.

How cruel was it that fate threatened to put you through the same torture as it had put Randall through? At that very moment, Marc was convinced his existence was cursed.

Jake needed to stop ‘fate’ before it was too late. It better not dare take you now. This was not your time!

He pulled you as close to him as he possibly could, making sure his grip was secure because he knew that the moment you’d plunge out of the car, he couldn’t risk losing you. Not when it was so dark. Not when you weren’t even breathing on your own! One wrong move and he feared he’d lose you forever. That was simply not an option.

With one last, deep breath, Jake pushed your face into his suit as if to shield your face from the water and then he kicked as hard as he could. It took a couple of tries but eventually, he kicked off the entire door, which disappeared into the shadows instantly. The air bubble was lost as water surged into the car, rushing in so fast it forced Jake to hold onto you even tighter. Finally, he made it out of the car, using his powers to move up instead of sinking to the bottom like the car did. It was probably going to stay down there for a while.

The only way to tell which was up was by blowing out air and following the direction of the bubbles. In the pitch-darkness, he relied on his other senses, feeling the bubbles moving up his face. Jake felt disorientated and dizzy, but he trusted his senses as he surged through the water and hoped it was toward the surface.

Then, at last, he began to see something again. Distant lights were guiding him in the right direction. Street lamps and city lights from far, far away. Jake reached the surface of the water and immediately sucked in another deep breath, relieved as his lungs expanded with air instead of water. As he breathed in and out a few times, he tasted mud and blood on his tongue.

He soared above the surface with you limp in his arms. The cape was drenched, weighing heavy on Jake’s shoulders. It was the first thing to reach the ground, instantly followed by his boots. As he felt secure on the ground, Jake examined his surroundings through narrowed eyes, not daring to let go of you until he knew it was safe. The shore consisted mainly of countless of rocks and dirt. There was a steep hill that lead up to the road. Right now, that offered you some shelter. Jake couldn’t see any of the cars that had been chasing you. They must’ve assumed you wouldn’t make it out of there alive.

As much as Jake wanted to go and find them, anger boiling in his veins as he thought about what they had done, he stayed put. Vengeance could wait. You couldn’t. He lowered you on your back ever so carefully and knelt by your side, the black and white cape pooling around you two. Jake made sure your head was positioned in a way that wouldn't cause further damage to the gnarly wound. Under the faint, blue glow of the moon, Jake made out your relaxed expression. That scared him beyond comprehension.

Not only that, the dress you wore did little to hide the damage the crash had caused. Cuts and bruises were scattered across your body but seeing your legs out of the water for the first time really showed how bad it was. It didn’t take a doctor to know something was broken. Jake saw the bright, red blood that gushed out of a deep wound on your thigh. After all this time, it was still pumping out blood at an alarming rate.

He cursed as he ripped his cape, not giving a damn what Khonshu thought of it as he used the material to stop the bleeding. Not that it mattered anyway, as the material reappeared out of thin air. Jake secured it around your leg as tightly as he could, hating that he had to use this kind of force on you although he knew it was for the best. If he didn’t stop the bleeding, you’d bleed out. That was much worse.

As he was done with stopping the bleeding, Jake parted his quivering lips as if to say something but nothing came out. Jake brushed your wet hair to the side, gently caressing your face in doing so and then he tried to feel your breath with the back of his hand.

Still nothing.

It only took a moment and he had pulled your head back gently to open your airways as his hands pressed together above your heart. Then without hesitating, he started to push down in a steady rhythm. Everyone always said to give chest compressions in the rhythm of a few certain songs but when the moment arrived, that was the last thing one could think about. Jake relied on Steven's help to merely count the compressions. The black and white fabric vanished from around his head so it wasn’t in the way.

An unfamiliar sting blurred Jake's vision as he tried to resuscitate you. The longer he knelt by your side, pushing your ribcage down in a way that felt way too rough, the more he dreaded the outcome. Why were you still not breathing?! He bent down to meet your lips, pinching your nose shut as he tried his best to breathe air into your lungs as steady as he possibly could. It was difficult to think that only moments before he had kissed your lips, not knowing it could’ve potentially been the very last time.

Jake pulled back, shoved his dark thoughts away and used all his strength to focus on the compressions. This was repeated again. Again. And again...

"Por favor!" Jake cried out like never before, begging for you to be okay. You had to be okay!

Truth be told, Jake began to lose focus. He never lost focus on missions. This was different. When he was faced with the chance of losing you, it shook him right to the core. The very foundation he had built with you, the safety net of knowing you were there was now threatening to slip through his fingers. Dread was making Jake feel sick to his stomach. Nothing he was doing seemed to help and that was the single most haunting realization of his life.

Jake had failed to protect you.

"Abre los ojos, mi amor. Por favor," he pleaded with raw desperation in his voice. Had Jake's enemies seen him now, they would've thought he was a man possessed. His brows furrowed in a sorrowful manner, deep brown eyes filling with tears. Jake Lockley was crying for you. His tough and cool demeanour was nowhere to be seen. How could he possibly keep a grip on himself in a moment like this? Even Jake was just a man who loved with his entire heart.

"Breathe for me. Just breathe." That’s all he asked for. He was sorry but he didn’t ask for forgiveness. Only for you to breathe.

“Lo siento mucho,” numerous apologizes slipped past his quivering lips. Could you even hear him? Did you know how sorry he was for this?

Then it happened. Seemingly out of the blue, your eyes opened as a coughing fit forced you to turn to the side. Jake pulled his hands back from your chest and looked at you in shock. Although, as he heard the struggle in your breath, he instantly rushed to your aid. Jake rubbed your back and encouraged you to let it all out and then fill up those lungs. The coughing fit came to a halt and you were taking in deep and shaky breaths. They revealed that you were in pain but god was it a relief to know you were alive.

It was a miracle if Jake had ever seen one.

Whatever hope and joy he had felt for only a moment was quickly wiped away when he heard the pain in your voice.

“Jake!” You sobbed his name, hands trying to reach your thigh where the shooting pain came from but he stopped you. Tears welled up in your eyes instantly. Everything hurt in a way you had never felt before. You wanted it to stop.

“You’re okay. You’ll be fine, I promise,” Jake gave you his word but that was hard to believe when you writhed on the rocks in pure agony. His words went in one ear and out the other. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find comfort in them. Not when it felt like every cell in your body had been torn apart.

“It hurts!” Those two words absolutely shattered Jake’s heart.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” Jake didn’t know what else to say. Words couldn’t heal you magically, could they? So what was the point? Knowing that you were in any kind of pain was just awful, truly awful. He wished he had the ability to take it all away in the blink of an eye. Somehow, he needed to take you to the nearest hospital but he was terrified of touching you and hurting you furthermore.

In a state of panic, you tried to sit up so you could see what was causing you so much pain, but moving your body was almost impossible. When you tried lift your head from the ground, a sharp sting in your neck forced you to stop. Flashes of what happened came to you, reminding you of the car chase. Where were the others now? Had Jake dealt with them? Or were they out there, waiting for an opportunity to strike again?

“What h-happened?” You wondered as hot tears rolled down your face. God it was cold. You didn’t notice until now how badly you were shivering. Even Jake was cold, his hands not warming up yours like they used to. Even in the state of shock you were in, you realized you were both soaking wet.

Jake didn’t know what to say or do. He just wanted to get you somewhere safe where people could help you. But how? The car was in the bottom on the sea and he had no idea if it was safe to move you. Did you have whiplash? Inner bleedings? Would lifting you make it worse? How could he call for help when you didn’t have phones and the nearest house was probably miles away.

A gush of wind went right to Jake’s bones, making him shiver because of how cold it was but it also revealed that Khonshu was standing right behind him. He didn’t even have to look to know the god was looming over his shoulder. If not to help then Jake didn’t care. He had no patience for Khonshu’s games now.

“I suggest you get up. You’ve got company,” Khonshu warned Jake in a calm and collected way. The god’s words changed Jake’s demeanour. The people who had put you through so much already came back and it was the worst mistake those people had ever made. The spiraling panic and fear were wiped to the side as Jake nodded, acknowledging Khonshu’s warning.

There was no way in hell he would let them hurt you again.

As Jake heard an engine roaring nearby, coming closer and closer, he knew he had to protect you no matter what the cost. He looked down at you, silently apologizing for what he had to do. Even when he did it to make sure you were safe, he felt incredibly guilty for having to leave your side. Just a second was enough to make him feel rotten deep down to the core.

“Everything will be alright,” Jake bent down to your face level, looking you right in the eye as he spoke, “I promise.”

You heard the car as well which filled your every vein with terror. So you hadn’t managed to escape from them after all.

“Be careful,” You could hardly get the two words past your bloodied lips. You knew he was going to face them, there was no doubt about it. You had to trust he would come back for you.

He placed the softest kiss on your forehead, refusing to speak of the thoughts that tormented him. A kiss would have to do. It would have to express how sorry he was. It had to express his promise that he’d come back to you. That soon you wouldn’t feel all that pain anymore.

Then he got up, summoned the hood and the mask so he was fully suited and he got up the hill before the bad guys could come down and find you. If they did, Jake had zero doubt they would aim for you instead of him.

When Jake saw a familiar car parked on the other side of the road, he saw red.

The driver looked scared out of his mind when he faced Jake in his ceremonial armor, much darker than Marc’s, much more intimidating than Steven’s. His cape was now flowing in the wind and his eyes were glowing, glaring daggers into the man’s head. Jake looked furious even when the dark fabric covered his face. Rage was radiating off of him and the driver must’ve realized his mistake; coming after you again.

The driver pointed his gun at Jake and pulled the trigger. Twice. Three times. Then he stopped because the bullets seemed to do nothing to Jake. He kept walking toward the car with only one goal in mind - to defeat the enemy.

“Stop!” The terrified man yelled, trying to intimidate Jake Lockley. He needed a lot of luck if he wanted to succeed in that.

“Don’t come closer!”

Jake noticed another man in the passenger seat. He was already dead, presumably from the bullets that flew their way during the car chase. The driver would join his friend soon. Wherever they went to after this life.

As Jake reached the man, he tried to open the car door and use that to push Jake. Worth a shot, but Jake saw it coming so he slammed the door shut and trapped the man inside. The window was already rolled down so it made it easy for Jake to reach into the car and wrap his hand around the man’s neck. There wasn’t a single part of Jake that felt bad for crushing that man’s windpipe. There were worse things he could do but he didn’t have time. Oh if it was up to Jake, he’d rip his fucking spine out of his back. This was merciful when compared to what Jake would’ve done if you weren’t currently bleeding out on the rocks.

In a last, desperate attempt to come out of this alive, the man pointed the damn gun at Jake’s head. In just a split second, Jake used his other hand to grab the barrel of the gun. His grip was so tight that the solid metal barrel bent under his touch, forcing the bullet to get stuck somewhere in there. Now it was rendered useless and Jake didn’t hesitate to throw it out on the road, smashing it into bits and pieces in doing so.

“No debiste ni mirarla,” Jake made sure that the last thing this poor excuse of a man ever did was regret coming after you. He would have to die realizing the cost of that one mistake.

The man let out a silent scream or plea - it didn’t matter. His nails dug into Jake’s suit, trying to claw his way free from the deadly grip but to no avail. In fact, it just made Jake squeeze harder, pushing the man’s head into the seat because of the sheer force he was using.

As Jake stood there with his arm inside the vehicle, he looked around the empty road and deep into the dark woods. The silence was ominous. The loneliness a reminder of the fact no one was going to help you. Clouds swirled around the moon in the ever darkening sky. It was the only witness to this man’s early demise.

No one else had been stupid enough to follow you there.

Seeing you in that hospital bed was the worst thing Jake had ever seen in his entire life.

Hooked up to all these machines with needles and tubes sticking into you to the point he could hardly see your beautiful face. Instead of hearing the soft sounds of your relaced breaths, he was forced to listen to the beeping of a heart monitor and the low buzz of all the other machines that did things Jake didn’t even know about. That repeating beep was tantalizing.

But it was also a sign that you were alright. In a way, the worst sight he had ever seen was also a relief. You had gotten the help you needed and were now on the path of getting better. There was no place he’d rather be with you now than this hospital, surrounded by skilled experts who could rush in without wasting any time if you needed help.

Getting to the hospital felt like such a distant memory now. Jake had thrown the bodies out of the car and used it to get you from the middle of nowhere to the nearest hospital. Despite the fact that driving was the reason you had gotten hurt in the first place, Jake drove again without hesitation. What were the odds of getting into another accident right after the first one, right?

He barely remembered what he had said when you reached the building. Nurses and guards had swarmed you, taking you away from Jake because they knew you needed urgent care. Letting them roll you away from him had been difficult to do. Jake was so scared someone would try to hurt you again. Trusting strangers with your life, even when they dedicated their lives in helping others, was incredibly difficult. By the time he realized the security guards were refusing him to follow you any further, Jake stopped.

You were getting the help you needed. There was nothing more he could do. Knowing that your fate was out of his control was scary. Jake had to trust these people to give you the care you needed and deserved. He didn’t trust easily.

Jake learned that they were performing emergency surgery on you when a doctor had walked up to him and asked all sorts of questions. The police had arrived too. Everything had been a bloody mess, as Steven would’ve said.

Hours later, it was all over. The questioning, the nauseating feeling of having to wait for you to get out of surgery. Just to hear that everything went well. Jake needed to know you’d make a full recovery. It took some convincing to do but finally, he was by your side in a hospital room and Jake wasn’t going anywhere.

What if more of those guys decided to find you? What if they found out where you were staying? Would they kill you if Jake left you alone for even a moment?

That was a risk he refused to take. He would rather sit on the uncomfortable plastic chair by your bedside and hold your hand all night long. Was it night or was it morning? Jake had no clue.

“Mate,” Steven’s careful voice snapped Jake out of the bubble of thoughts he had been in. He raised his gaze from your sleeping face to meet Steven’s in the reflection in the small mirror on the wall right above the sink. He looked worried sick. Worried about you and Jake.

“What?” Jake was beyond exhausted. His eyelids were heavy and he didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now. He had done enough talking with doctors and police who had the audacity to suspect that Jake had hurt you. The fucking nerve of some people.

“You should go home-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jake didn’t even let Steven finish that sentence. By shooting another glance at the mirror, Jake realized Marc was still not there. Great. Just great.

“Look at yourself!” Steven put his foot down, trying so hard to look after everyone. “You’re covered in blood and dirt. Do you think that she’ll be relieved to wake up to that?”

Jake clenched his jaw and ignored his alter. He hated to admit that Steven had a point. Then again, he didn’t want to leave your side. Not even when he had dry blood on his face and hair and he could smell it on his torn up shirt. His dark locks were disheveled.

The nurses and doctors who walked in to check on you from time to time must’ve thought Jake looked terrifying. One of the nurses had even offered him a chance to shower at the hospital, seemingly out of pity but Jake had refused. She even let him know when the hospital cafe opened if he needed anything from there.

“She’ll be fine, Jake. She has all the help she needs right here. Just go home, take care of yourself and come back after.”

A shower sounded nice, it really did. Also food wouldn’t hurt. It felt like forever ago when you and Jake had eaten the fast food on your date. It had only been less than a day but had someone told Jake weeks had passed, he would’ve almost believed them.

“I can’t,” Jake sighed eventually, his shoulders slumping down as he leaned against your hospital bed. He studied your face and brought his still trembling fingers to your cheek, ever so carefully caressing your soft skin just below the tubing of the nasal cannula. Were you dreaming? If so, Jake hoped you had the sweetest dreams. Perhaps the medication caused you to dream of nothing at all. Maybe it was for the best. He knew you needed the rest.

Steven didn’t want to leave your side either, no. But he also knew that Jake wasn’t able to help you when he was in that state. A shower and some food, maybe even a nap would do wonders. Besides, Steven knew you’d be safe here. The hospital security had definitely noticed that something odd was going on here. They had been patrolling the corridor ever since you had been wheeled into the room after surgery. If anyone tried to come visit you that wasn’t Jake or family, they would be stopped.

Steven fronted now, sensing that Jake just didn’t have it in him to fight. Part of Jake wanted to let someone else front, to give up control for a while. So when Steven was in control, he wasn’t really surprised that Jake didn’t even argue with him. It was better this way.

“Oh, love,” Steven felt a pang in his chest as he felt everything so much more vividly. The smell of the hand sanitizer that was a distinct smell all over the hospital. He could feel the exhaustion in his body, feel how the thin hospital blanket felt like against his skin. Despite Khonshu’s healing, it felt like Steven had gone through hell. If he felt this way, he couldn’t even begin to imagine what you were going through. Steven was afraid to touch you but he fought that fear as he placed his hand above yours. It didn’t take long for him to feel the tears in the corners of his eyes.

How could anyone in their right mind ever wish to hurt you? Steven couldn’t understand that. He just couldn’t.

“I’ll be right back, yeah?” Steven tried to smile. He pressed a feather-light kiss on the roof of your hand, relieved when he realized your skin was warm. That alone was a good sign.

“I’ll bring you something from the flat. I promise it won’t take long,” Steven gave you his word as he stood up, taking in the sight of you resting in a hospital bed. That one would haunt his nightmares and memories for a long time.

But he had to go. Steven knew you would stay here for a while so he already planned on bringing you things that would make you feel closer to home. Should he bring a book so he could read to you? Perhaps your own clothes would make you feel more comfortable than the ones provided by the hospital. Surely no one would mind if he brought your favourite movies. It’s not like the hospital TV had Netflix on it. He’d figure something out.

Steven had been right. Jake was too stubborn to tell him though. He felt much better in clean clothes and without blood all over him. Some of it had been your blood, which only made it worse. He had even packed a bag full of clothes and other things he figured you would need on your stay.

Just as promised, you were alright when they came back. Steven hadn’t taken a nap at the flat because he too wanted to waste no time. There was a need to take care of you and that need told him to make sure you wouldn’t wake up alone. Steven had just made it back to the plastic chair. The moment he sat down and knew you were okay, he fell asleep right by your side, his hand never letting go of yours.

Jake was fronting when you woke up. His eyes snapped open as he watched you take in your surroundings. The relief on your face when you saw him was visible. Seeing him made you feel safe.

It was obvious you were in a hospital although you didn’t remember getting there. Not that it mattered. You felt an odd sense of joy when you realized Jake was holding your hand. Perhaps you just felt odd in general. You swore your vision was hazy, almost dream like. Focusing on something was near impossible. There was something on your face that felt uncomfortable and you tried to pull it off. Jake grabbed your other wrist ever so carefully to stop you.

“I can’t let you do that, amor. It helps you breathe,” He explained and then let go of you, knowing you wouldn’t try that again.

“...you…mkay?” You mumbled tiredly, frustrated as your body didn’t co-operate with your mind. Moving your lips when they felt numb was strange. Just finding your voice proved to be hard. Must’ve been the morphine. All you wanted was to know Jake was alright.

Jake knew what you were trying to ask and it made his heart tighten in his chest. After everything you had been through you worried about him. Jake felt undeserving of your pure love and concern. If it wasn’t for him and the entire ordeal with Khonshu, you wouldn’t be hospitalized in the first place!

“I’m okay,” He let you know.

That made you smile droopily, your lips curving slightly more to the left side than the right. At least the drugs were working.

“I’m gonna go get a doc, alright?”

You squeezed Jake’s hand weakly before he could get up. Just for a moment longer, you wanted to be like this. You knew that when the doctor would walk in, reality would crash over you. Honestly, it was terrifying. You didn’t want to hear the awful news they most certainly had nor were you interested in knowing how long you had to be there. For just a brief moment longer, you wanted to be with Jake and tell yourself everything was perfectly fine. Granted, the dull ache in your body told another story.

“Not yet,” You muttered, tilting your head to the side and forcing your body to relax against the stacked pillows. Fear and anxiety were beginning to torment you, whispering terrible things to the part of your brain that wondered what would happen next. That brought tears to your eyes without you even realizing it.

“Okay,” Jake wasn’t going to argue with you. He suspected there was a reason for this request. “I’m not going anywhere yet.”

After he confirmed that, you nodded as if to let the words sink in. In a moment of clarity, you looked down your body that was covered in blankets. You tried to move your legs cautiously, remembering the pain from before. When you felt how restricted your movements were, Jake closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He knew something you didn’t. His reaction caused your anxiety to spike.

If something was wrong with you, you wanted to hear it from him instead of a doctor who didn’t know you or care about you. Not personally, at least.

“Baby,” You swallowed the lump in your throat, “how bad is it?”

Of course, you asked that. Jake would’ve been a fool if he believed you wouldn’t. This was your life and your body you were talking about.

“They said you’ll make a full recovery,” Jake started with that, failing to meet your eye as he continued, “but it will take some time.”

“And the…the people who did this?” That question didn’t need any clarification.

“They won’t bother you ever again,” Jake hadn’t taken all of them out but he would stop at nothing to make sure vengeance was delivered upon each and every one of them.

“I promise.”

“Okay,” You believed him. That didn’t make it hurt any less. Without even seeing most of your body and with strong medications concealing the true amount of pain you were in, you knew it was going to be a long time before this could be put in the past.

That made you feel defeated in so many ways.

Would they stick by your side through it all? Or would this scare all of them away from you forever?

Jake saw the tears rolling down your face, glistening in the corners of your eyes as you held your breath in order to keep your sobs and whimpers to yourself. He had never seen such a miserable expression on your face and neither did he want to. If someone had a time machine, he would steal it if that would undo what had already happened. Jake would do anything to make sure you’d never have to feel this way.

“Oh, mi amor,” he didn’t hesitate to move from the chair to the edge of the hospital bed, being incredibly cautious as to avoid hurting you as he wrapped you in his arms. When Jake pulled you close to his chest and you felt his tender embrace, it was impossible to keep the cries at bay any longer.

Jake swayed from side to side ever so softly as you clung onto his shirt and let it all out in violent sobs. At the worst of it, you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak. Jake was quiet too, knowing that no words could fix this. He offered to hold you in his loving arms as you let the pain out.

Eventually, your cries calmed down but neither of you let go of each other. Jake felt your chest rising as you took in shaky breaths, working so hard just to steady them. You wondered if he knew that his cologne was calming you down. It was constant, something that reminded you of good things. It reminded you of home. You wanted nothing more than to go home but you knew you couldn’t. Not like this.

As Jake held you, his eyes peered out through the blinds. The window gave him a view of the hospital parking lot. Cars were driving in and out, struggling to find a parking spot and others struggling to navigate their way through the concrete mess. Somewhere out there, near or far in the distance, were the rest of the people who stood behind this. Living their lives and going on about their days with far less damage. Perhaps they were trying to come up with a new master plan to catch Khonshu’s avatar. To destroy him by hurting the one thing they truly loved.

Jake was heartbroken but if anyone saw his expression, they would see a man full of rage. He shot death glares out the window, only thinking about what he’d do once he found them. It wouldn’t be pretty. He wouldn’t have to go after them alone, no. Steven and Marc would be there too.

A/N: Should I write a part 2? If you enjoyed it pls let me know. The next part would be more focused on hurt/comfort and recovery. Maybe even smut, who knows 👀

#Jake Lockley fanfiction #Jake Lockley x you #Jake Lockley x Reader #Jake Lockley x Y/N #Jake Lockley/You #Jake Lockley/reader #Jake Lockley x fem!Reader #Jake Lockley angst #angst #whump #Moon Knight fanfiction #Moon Knight x fem!Reader #MK system x reader

911 notes · View notes

narcolini · 1 year

Text

open wounds

frank castle x gn!reader, ex dating, hurt/comfort, 2404 words

for day 6 of whumpril : salve | painkillers | bad coping mechanisms

warnings for burns, implied suicidal intentions, terrible first aid probably

a/n: yknow when you love a character so much that you dont even know where to start with writing about them?? no?? just me?? im shaking in my boots... also huge shout out to @ashlingiswriting for helping with this!!

tagging: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa @cositapreciosa (five times as requested)

He’s dripping wet. Frank, back at your door, for the first time in half a year, and dripping wet from head to toe. His jeans, his hoody, his boots—which must weigh a tonne, if they’re as full of water as the rest of him. He’s scrubbed his face dry, clearly, because the front of his hair is sticking upright, brushed up by the rough of his fingertips, and his cheeks are cleaner than the rest of him. Bare of the grime he’s covered in. If it wasn’t so obviously a bad thing—him being here, him being anything other than his usual self—you might’ve laughed. Might’ve joked about him choosing the worst church for an over-due baptism.

‘What the fuck happened?’ you scoff, bypassing all other greetings. You don’t even spare the thought to be annoyed at him, to tell him to go away, get out of here, before someone sees you. You just balk, and frown, and hang off the door as you look him over. ‘You look like you went free-diving in the river, Frank.’

He doesn’t respond, just sighs and tilts his head as if to say—

‘Oh my God.’ He did. He jumped into the fucking river. ‘That explains the stink, then.’

‘Yup.’

It’s pouring off him. Stale water, oil spill.

‘Look, I gotta ask you a favour,’ he says, awkward about it, though you’d thought as much already. ‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.’

And you wouldn’t let him in, either, if you didn’t have to.

‘Come in.’ The less time he spends in the corridor, the better. ‘Do I even want to know what you…’ The words fizzle out once you’re behind him, door closed and facing his back.

The material of his hoody has been singed away, not entirely, but across his shoulders and in patches down his spine, the t-shirt beneath in a similar state. He’d been set alight, somehow, long enough for it to burn all the way through. Two layers of cloth and then skin. Red, raw, skin.

‘Jesus, Frank.’

‘Had to put it out somehow,’ he shrugs, ‘seemed like the quickest option.’

‘Do you even realise how much shit is in that river?’

But he must do, of course, because he’s here. He’s not at home, self-medicating, slapping soap and water on it and hoping for the best. He’s here because he’s smart enough to realise bacteria will kill him easier and faster than any bullet would. Which isn’t usual, for most, but he has a knack for surviving no matter how many holes they put in him.

‘Bathroom, please,’ you tell him. You remember where it is.

You watch him nod in front of you, hands tucked in the sodden pockets of his hoody. He’s holding himself rigid—tense arms, straight shoulders—to hide the shakes, you realise. The wet has gotten into the bones, chilled him deep enough to send shivers through the muscles. Why he’s bothering to try and cover it, you don’t know. You’ve seen him in worse shapes.

When he reaches the bathroom, you in tow, he turns and waits. In front of you, on the curling blue bath matt beneath. It’s been a long time since you’d done him a favour. A long time, since you’d been alone with him, for reasons other than why this doesn’t work, why the two of you won’t work.

You sigh, close your eyes. He knows as well as you do what’s coming.

‘Am I in danger,’ you ask, feeling the sick twist of regime in your stomach, the edge of familiarity in the question, ‘by you being here? Is it putting me in danger?’

‘No, no, I promise.’ His head shakes. ‘No-one knows I’m here.’

‘You’re sure?’

He pauses, swallows. Nods. ‘It’s just me.’

‘And is it only the burns? Nothing else?’

‘I’d do it myself, but I,’ his teeth chatter, ‘I can’t reach.’

‘Okay.’ No surprise gunshot wounds, no broken bones. You can handle it, as long as you know what to expect. ‘I’ll do my best,’ you tell him, now you know it isn’t at your detriment, and turn to look through the cabinet above the sink.

‘Thank-you,’ he begins, which you try to wave off. ‘No, I mean it, I—I know you must hate…’ The words get away from him. A drop of water shakes from the peak of his hair onto his cheek. ‘Yeah, just, thank-you.’

You know what he’s implying. He’s as wrong about it now as he was then.

‘I don’t hate you, Frank.’

‘Well, you don’t like me much,’ he grumbles. ‘Not that I blame you.’

You don’t like his choices. You don’t like his instincts. You don’t like his susceptibility to getting himself in trouble, once a fucking week. ‘Take this off,’ you tell him, tugging at the sopping wet of his sleeve. ‘You’re shivering.’

He complies, jaw-setting as he pulls both the hoody and t-shirt over his head, no doubt having to rip the burnt-fibres from the edges of his wounds. He does well to hide it—if that’s the case—removes them without a hiss of pain, or any hesitation. The wet lump of them lands on the tiles with a slap, water splattering over your socks.

You fill the sink, making sure it’s lukewarm, cool. It’d be better to douse him with hot water, really, to stop the shivers and get rid of the smell, but the burns are more pressing. The very last thing they need is more heat.

‘Jeans and socks too. Then sit on the bath,’ you instruct before leaving the room. It isn’t for privacy’s sake, but to get your blanket from the couch and a clean towel from the closet. Get him warm, get the site disinfected, then cover it in Saran wrap and hope for the best. It isn’t as good as real, authoritative, medical treatment, but it’s better than he could manage by himself.

When you’re back, he’s done as you said again, and is sitting on the edge of the bath in just his boxers. A sorry sight, long past the invitation that it used to be. You’re sure there’s scars there that you aren’t familiar with, across his chest, below his naval, but there isn’t time to inspect them. He’s shaking still, and looking up at you like he’s sorry to occupy the space at all.

‘You ever treated burns?’ he asks, as you hand him the blanket.

‘Nothing like that,’ you admit. ‘Spin.’

He does. You put the towel on the floor beneath his back, where the drips will be, as he drapes the blanket over his lap. He isn’t shy about it now, how cold he is. He pulls the edge of the throw up to his chin, tucking his arms inside it, and gives a bigger, exaggerated shiver afterwards. Like he’s purging it, and inviting warmth to take it’s place now that it’s out.

Without the clothes, the burns look dangerous. Red and angry, almost the print of a cross over his back, with the worst of them sitting in a thick strip along his shoulder blades.

‘What even…?’ You brush a thumb by the edge of it, bending down to get a closer look; it’s not just a burn, but a scrape too, a layer of skin torn off like he’s been dragged over tarmac. ‘What happened, beyond the fire?’

You don’t mean the order of events that led to it, or the reasoning behind him shouldering fire in the first place—you’re long past caring or asking about his endeavours. Anything that ends in a list of dead bodies, people he’s killed, is none of your business. That stopped being your problem, the same time he did. But the longer you look, the less it seems like a simple, standard burn. The less you know about how to treat it.

Frank grunts, head dipped. ‘Over-estimated a jump. Slipped off a, a wall, going into the river.’

You wince. ‘Yeah, looks like you left a bit of your back attached to it.’

He puffs out through his nose. ‘That bad?’

Not by his standards, you’re sure. ‘Well. I think it’s saved you from the worst of the blistering, at least.’ The smaller scalds will, no doubt, tonight or tomorrow, but the wide abrasion across the top might have saved him from something more severe. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to put cream on them,’ you say, ‘but I’ve got an antiseptic spray that I think will be worth the risk.’ And the pain. ‘Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he agrees, without hesitation, ‘do what you gotta do.’

When you start at it with the water, poured slow from a mug and onto his back, he hisses. Sucks breaths in and out between the clench of his teeth, regulates the pain for your sake alone, you’re sure, and you can bare that. You can work while he does that, quiet and dedicated.

But when you move onto the spray, he swears, low and rasping, like he hates you for a moment. Like he’s angry at you, the antiseptic, the base of the bath that he thumps with his heel.

‘I’m sorry,’ you put quickly, unable to ignore it. ‘This is the worst part.’

Maybe bad enough, really, that you shouldn’t be doing it at all. In the grand scheme of things, agitated burns are better than infection, right? Better than leaving whatever germs live in the Hudson, to fester in the scrapes of his skin.

‘Keep going,’ he insists, through the clench of his jaw—so you do, grimacing each time he swears and flinches under you.

By the time it’s done, dried and wrapped, you’re both exhausted. Him more than you, that you can admit. He sits quietly on the bath now, waiting for the painkillers you’d promised. It’s the first time he hasn’t tried to convince you that he doesn’t need them.

‘Here.’ You hand him the pills, the glass of water. Watch him swallow them both, before sitting beside him, facing the opposite way. Shoulder to shoulder. ‘I think that’s about all I can do for you,’ you say, glancing at his waiting gaze.

He’s got his head turned towards you, dark eyes only inches away. You can’t match them for long. You’re looking back at the pile of wet clothes on the floor before you speak again.

‘If it shows any sign of infection, Frank.’

He puts the glass down, head shaking in the edge of your vision. ‘I’m not going to a hospital. I can’t.’ He’s dead already, he means, and waltzing into the ER would ruin the only leg-up he has.

‘Then someone who knows more than me, at least,’ you insist. ‘You can’t do any of your righteous, vigilante bullshit with sepsis, you know.’

‘I know,’ he says, and he means it. Sounds sore about it too, regretful, even. Not because of his health, but because of what it would take from him.

You let him sit with that for a moment, watching him drop the blanket from his shoulders and put his hands over the top of it instead, pooling in his lap. The shaking’s stopped now; without the wet clothes, and in the warmth of your home, it didn’t take long to scare them away. After the ordeal you put him through, he’s sweating instead. Damp across his brow.

‘Why d’you do it?’ you ask, though you’d told yourself long ago that you would stop asking him that. Stop wasting your breath on something that would never change.

‘Do what?’ He looks like he might laugh, glancing sideways at you, like he’s itching to say, you think I toasted myself on purpose? But it’s over-compensation, really. He knows what you mean.

‘Put yourself in these fucking situations, every time…’ You sigh. ‘You had a chance to get out, Frank. To start fresh.’

But why bother saying it to him? You know the answer as soon as it comes from your lips. You know what makes him do it. You know he can’t function otherwise. If bad coping mechanisms had a poster boy, he would be it. If self-hatred and self-pity was a competition, he’d win. He would lap everyone before they’d even got off the mark.

‘You’ve got to retire at some point,’ you tell him, which sounds like a plea you hadn’t aimed to give.

He scoffs, shaking his head. His thumbs toy with the edge of the blanket. ‘You know it doesn’t work like that.’

Not for him, that’s the truth, and it snowballs in your head until you say, ‘You’re gonna keep going until something kills you, aren’t you?’

He doesn’t answer, because he can’t do that either. Admitting it aloud, to himself or to you, would make it real. Undeniable.

‘Well,’ you start, bending the conversation into something liveable again, ‘you’re lucky your ex is so good at first aid.’ You shoulder him, lightly, smiling until he smiles back. Just enough.

‘Yeah,’ he breathes, ‘yeah, I am.’ He considers you for a moment, before tucking his chin and looking to his hands. ‘I didn’t think you’d be so,’ he hesitates, searching for the word.

‘Willing?’

He nods. ‘Thought I’d have to talk you into it.’

You snort, a real smile creeping onto your lips. ‘Would you have begged if I asked you to?’

‘I don’t know.’ His brows pinch together, thick and sorry-looking. ‘Would you have turned me away if I didn’t?’

‘No,’ you realise, because you had patched him up too often to let him suffer now. The blood on your hands has to have been worth something. ‘But I’d have taken an extra pass with that spray.’

He laughs weakly. ‘Yeah, that, I’d probably deserve.’

Because that’s his answer to everything, isn’t it? Every ounce of pain he endures, is nothing but a coin in the never ending debt that he owes himself. The only person that would ever expect it of him. The only one that thinks he deserves this, burns and wounds that he can’t fix for himself.

‘I think you should go,’ you say quietly, as your heart tugs in the opposite direction. ‘It’s late.’

Late, and approaching the longest time you’ve spent with him since the two of you broke up. Any longer and you might forget why.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfiction #whumpril2023 #whumpril #the way i am shakinggggggg at this being my first frank fic every omg #i dont even know if its frank like at all but it certainly carries the name #LMAO

145 notes · View notes

midnightsmindmv · 2 months

Text

The Summer We Turned 🧸 🍋Pretty🫐 🐚

master list

chapter 1, chapter 2

tag list: @sunflowermyheart @void21

pairing: steven conklin x fisher!oc

summary: just as Belly had Conrad, Alva had Steven. 16 years of unrequited love but this summer was going to change it all.

tags: jealous Steven, fluff, angst, underaged drinking, Belly x Cameron, Susannah lives, Steven is an idiot, Alva Fisher and Taylor do not get along, protective Conrad and Jeremiah.

wc: 1.5k

🪼🌊🪼🌊🪼🌊

May was the worst month in the whole world and it had been for as long as I could remember. Just that feeling of something being so close, all you can think about is how much you want it. My mother took the whole month to get the house prepared, adding on a few things to each of the Conklin’s rooms depending on what she’d heard from Laurel. This year she’d added a few things to Laurel’s study to work on a new book. Or buying heaps of board games, puzzles, water slides, soccer balls, tennis rackets, snacks—every possible thing you could think of, our house became a constant reminder that it wasn’t quite summer but it was almost there.

This year it would be May 5th that the air would suddenly change, feel warmer and the feeling of waking up would be less horrid. And that feeling of pure excitement, like anything could happen and it would all be wonderful snapped into place when I heard a honk of a car.

“They are here!” Mom yells.

This year me and Belly had been talking a lot in between summers. Now that we were older there were going to be some changes to the way things went in Cousins. We both agreed this year had given us some significant glow ups.

For one I started using products that helped my wavy hair. It happened by accident when I mixed up my brother Jeremiah’s curl cream with my leave in conditioner. I had always thought my hair was just frizzy, turns out it looked more like Jere’s than my mother’s. I’d also grown out my hair and I felt like I found my fashion sense. At least my mom thought so.

Neither me nor Belly had explicitly told each other why this summer was going to be “our summer” or what we were gonna do with our hot selves but deep down we knew. My dear friend Belly has had a huge crush on my eldest brother Conrad since she learned to say his name “onad” or “onnie”. our nicknames have changed so much throughout the years. They used to call me “Ally” before it was just AV or “v” i like my real name though Alva. But Steven calls me Guppy and I call him Conkle, like a conkle shell. Both far removed from our last names Fisher and Conklin.

Now I’m not sure what I want him to call me. Guppy or Fishy makes me feel like little kid. I’m 16 and I don’t want Steven to think of me as a little kid. Because just as Belly has had Conrad, I have Steven. 16 years of unrequited love between the two of us. How embarrassing.

But this summer was different, this was the summer we turned pretty.

“I’m coming!” The floorboards of the stairs creak as I quickly ascend.

“Geez elephant feet calm down.” Jeremiah jokes but I can tell he’s equally as excited to see the Conklins.

I wouldn’t let my nerves get the best of me. I knew as soon as I saw him it would just be like old times. There is something about Steven that just puts me at ease, even though he teases me. Even if I was all awkward he would still be Steven.

“Where’s Con?” I ask my other brother.

“He’s been surfing…where have you been? Writing in your diary about how you wanna makeout with steven all summer?” Jeremiah bolts out the door before I can smack him.

Deep breaths.

🍋🧸🍋🧸🍋🧸🍋

Stevens POV

“Bro!” I step out of the car and stretch my aching legs to jog over to Jeremiah.

No matter how long it’s been since I’ve seen the Fishers it’s all just the same as soon as we return. It all falls back into place as I hug Jeremiah.

“Oh you’ve both grown so much!” I can tell Susannah is resisting the urge to pinch our cheeks. I’d let her, Susannah is an angel.

“Look who came back all grown up!” Jeremiah pulls Belly into a big hug after embracing mom.

“Alva should be out and Conrad’s coming up soon!” Susannah looks to the door and there she is. The door opens again.

“A-Alva?”

“Hey conkle shell”

She called back at me with a held back grin plastered on her face. Her very different face. Alva had always been Alva, but there was something about her—everything about her it was all different. Her strapless white dress flowed with her hair as she jogged over and bro code began to slowly escape my mind as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Hey Fishie.” Her hair was most noticeable. No longer frizzy and tangled but thick and wavy. She wore it down with a little claw clip holding half her hair up. She never used to dress like this.

Alva released herself from my grasp slowly. “Conrad’s coming up—now actually.” She chuckles and glances and Belly who looked expectantly towards the gate.

Greeting Conrad shook my senses back into place. It’s Guppy we are talking about. She’s like my little sister. She’s maturing for sure and it totally not weird for me to notice how pretty she looks—I see it in Isabel too. No difference…

I took one last glance at Alva before encouraging a Belly-flop.

🫧✨🫧✨🫧

Alva POV

“Conrad was smiling all for you.” I giggle and wrap Belly up in a beach towel. It was true, Conrad hadn’t been smiling a lot lately but Belly could bring it out of him.

A big but shy smile flashed on her face and stayed plastered while we walked into the house. And sat at the kitchen island

“Oh look at my girls! Oh Laurel we have such beautiful daughters.” Mom gushed, never one to keep in a compliment. It was something I learned from her.

“I know, it’s crazy how mature you look Alva.” She stopped to admire the two of us, now blushing girls “Aw, you guys are gorgeous.” Laurel rubbed my back.

This summer was going to be just us and the moms— “the woman and the children” as mom says. Dad was working…he’s been busy a lot leading up to this summer. The good news is he’ll be back on the 4th with Mr. Conklin as Laurel informed us.

🐻‍❄️🫐🐻‍❄️🫐🐻‍❄️🫐

“We literally have to do everything we planned. I know this is gonna be a great summer Belly boo.” We plopped down on her bed after our hard work unpacking her things.

I notice how even a few minutes of Belly being in the room it already feels lived in—comfortable. Before the Conklins arrived absence of Belly in the room made of feel cold when I walked by but now I can feel it’s warmth. Belly has always been that person for me, my comfort friend. Our moms used to say we were always supposed to be twins even if I’m a little older than her that didn’t matter.

“Definitely.” She smiled, I could see the excitement in her eyes. “Do you think your mom is gonna do the surf competition again this year?

I looked up, contemplating. Last year mom had taught Laurel to surf and we all did a competition adults vs kids. Mom even set it up to be like an official event with dad and our neighbors as the judges. It was the highlight of the summer, even though Conrad smoked us all right out of the water.

“Oh my gosh I hope, that was amazing!”

Jeremiah popped his head into the room, before plopping down on the bed too.

Jeremiah pulled out is puppy dog eyes “Come on let’s go swimming Belly. Pretty please?”

“I was gonna help my mom at whale of a tail but…” she looked into Jeremiah’s pleading eyes and quickly caved, “ok yeah sure. You wanna come AV?”

“You guys go ahead I might meet you later. I’m gonna wait for Steven to get back.”

Jeremiah and Belly look at each other with cheeky smiles.

Jeremiah laughs as he gets off the bed. “Oooh ok yeah wait for your Conkle Shell.”

I can’t exactly read Belly’s face which moves me to impulsively defend myself. “He’d be home alone—I have no idea where Conrad is.” They looked at each other again and I groaned, “come oooonnn guys it’s not weird for me and Steven to hangout alone.”

My brothers eye roll annoys me ever so slightly. “Yeah but you’re older now and Steven is a dude.”

“Jeremiah… you and Belly and going to the beach alone.”

His eyes widen for a second. “Oh yeah I guess you’re right…ok you’re off the hook it’s not weird.”

Belly laughed leaning into me. “Ok get out so I can change.”

🥭🌞🥭🌞🥭🌞

I looked at my phone, Steven would be home any minute and I was currently debating on changing too. But I decided to save the outfit for the bonfire tonight. If today went well with Steven we could probably hangout at the bonfire too—and with a few beers in me who knows how the night could go.

I could hear the waves clearly from the kitchen. Belly and Jeremiah were gone now and the house was probably the most quiet it would be all summer.

My stomach did a few flips as I heard the door.

“Anyone home?”

“Just me Steven!”

#belly conklin #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #fanfic #steven conklin #swifties #the summer i turned pretty #original character #steven conklin x reader #taylor swift #steven conklin x original character #the summer i turned pretty show #the summer i turned pretty x reader #cam cameron #belly conklin x cameron

33 notes · View notes

cuffmeinblack · 10 months

Note

If you're still doing the prompts, can I request #14 with Leander? If not, that's ok too! 🖤

Oblivious

Leander Prewett x gn!reader

Tags: fluff

550 words

"oh, shit. I'm in love with you??" prompt: 14. they laugh at your 'not-so-funny' jokes

A/n: Absolutely!! Obviously had to drag Garreth into it, too.

"May I remind you of Puffskein Dunkein?"

Garreth quirked an eyebrow, returning to his food with a chuckle. He'd listened to your riveting and hilarious story with the absolute best pun you'd ever concocted and he didn't think you were funny?

"Yes, the name is funny, but that was years ago. You got lucky once."

"Leander thinks I'm funny," you said defensively.

"Leander laughs at your jokes because...well, it's not because you're a comedic genius."

"What's that meant to mean?"

Garreth looked around the table uncomfortably, clearly regretting opening his mouth. No amount of pressing was getting any more information out of him, and you left the dinner table in a huff to seek out Leander.

"There you are!" you said, weaving your way through the common room towards the coiffed red hair.

"Here I am, right where I said I'd be," Leander replied with a soft smile that illicited a surprising tightening in your chest.

"I have something to tell you."

Leander sat forward, leaning his elbows on his long legs as you settled opposite him. His freckled face was painted with interest and slight trepidation; you were rarely so serious.

Breaking the spell, you launched into your story, relaying the details with enthusiasm as he blinked in surprise and an amused smile crossed his face. He laughed in the right places; that sort of melodic chuckle that made your face warm. Your grand finale, the pun which Garreth had termed the worst he'd ever heard was delivered and he laughed. A great belly laugh, definitely not deserved but nevertheless all for you.

Oh Gods, Garreth was right. Assuming you were not, in fact, the funniest person alive, Leander definitely laughed at your not-so-funny jokes for an entirely different reason. You'd been studying his face as you talked and not failed to notice the way his gaze flicked between your eyes and down to your mouth. You were also aware of the way his thumb and forefinger idly stroked gentle circles around each other as he concentrated; which was frankly very distracting.

The fact that he deigned to humour your poor attempts at comedy was...heartwarming. You got up, relocating yourself next to him on the armchair as he shuffled to give you space, watching you with wide eyes.

"Leander."

"Y-yes?"

"Do you laugh at my jokes because you think I'm funny or because of...some other reason?"

The question caught him off guard and he looked down at you with parted lips, stuttering and blushing. That had been all the confirmation you needed. Idiot boy. Idiotic, absolutely... ridiculous... bloody amazing and...

Leander stopped stuttering when you pressed your mouth against his, warmth and affection flooding your body. Those lips that had smiled for you throughout your stories were every bit as soft as they looked. The fingers that had distracted you so much during your retelling were now laced through your hair, only loosening as you finally broke apart. The funniest part of the whole encounter had not been your jokes, but your utter obliviousness.

"Do me a favour?" you asked breathlessly.

"Oh, anything!"

"Instead of laughing at my unfunny jokes, maybe just kiss me to shut me up instead?"

#i really had to try not to turn this into smut #leander prewett #leander prewett x reader #leander prewett drabble #leander prewett fanfiction

104 notes · View notes

djpurple3 · 3 months

Text

his tears freeze when he cries, did you know that?

3k words, Empires s1, romantic scwhip (fWhip/Scott), vaguely canon compliant, set just before Scott leaves on his Elsa Arc. Full fic both on AO3 and posted below.

Tagged: kissing, crying, self-deprecation, abandonment issues, hurt no comfort, angst, winged Scott and fWhip, tragic romance.

Summary:

After fWhip's sister gets hit by Scott's newly developing and quickly out-of-control powers, fWhip has that sort of... gut feeling that everything is about to fall apart. He rushes to Rivendell to see Scott just in time - catching Scott as he is about to leave. fWhip now has to try, in vain, to convince his love to stay.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

fWhip has that… that gut sort of feeling. When Gem had shown up, allegedly ‘feeling fine’ but corrupted to all hells and back, and talking about Scott, fWhip had a terrible sort of feeling. Now, coming to a quick landing in Rivendell’s main plaza, he sees he was right to assume the worst.

Scott, wings half-unfurled, stares at him, caught off guard, and… painfully scared.

When fWhip dares to approach, he has to swallow hard, stomach twisting itself into agonising knots, because as he draws closer, Scott shies away.

“I’m not mad,” fWhip says quickly. He raises his hands in a show of peace. “Not anymore, I promise.”

“It’s not just that,” Scott says, and he doesn’t even look at fWhip, and that hurts too. “It’s… no. You should go.”

“Go?” fWhip stops five paces away, hands still in the air, and he tries to smile, tries to joke it off. “But I just arrived! And it was such a long journey, too.”

“You may use one of my people’s homes to rest,” Scott says. He’s really trying to brush fWhip off. And, fWhip notices, Scott’s… not in his usual robes. He’s in warm weather gear – not sleek and well-fitted royal garb, but thick and sturdy. Scott is… he’s in runaway clothes, isn’t he? “I will send word for you.”

“Scott.”

“You can’t… I-,” Scott cuts himself off with an aching sigh. “We can’t, fWhip.”

And Scott finally looks up. His eyes are wide and bright and exhausted. fWhip can’t help but notice that Scott’s been clutching his hands tightly together over his stomach this entire time. It’s a stark contrast to the usual way Scott would gesture as he spoke.

“You should understand better than anyone else.” Scott’s lips purse, and he looks away. “…How is she?”

“Well, she’s…” fWhip looks away, too. Scratches the back of his head as he fumbles for his words. “She went looking for a cure herself, and got corrupted, actually, but… I took her to Katherine, who managed to purify her. She’s good as gold, now, …if not a little shaken.”

“Corrupted?” Scott echoes, horrified, and he steps back sharply, hands flying to his mouth. “Even Gem? E-even the… the Great Wizard of the Crystal Cliffs…”

“Hey. We both know that it doesn’t matter who you are,” fWhip says sharply, but the way Scott’s face falls tells fWhip he’s accidentally hit a sore spot. “But! She got help! We defeated it together.”

fWhip does his best to smile, now and takes a half-step closer.

“And besides. This,” fWhip gestures at Scott, now, up and down, “isn’t that. You’re… you’re you, Scott. You didn’t mean it. She knows you didn’t mean it. I know you didn’t mean it. It… it’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Scott’s hands tighten, and the air gets several degrees colder even as Scott takes a jerky step back that spreads frost from where his boot makes contact with the ground. fWhip fights down the urge to shiver, and holds his ground. “I… you’re not listening to me! I can’t control myself, fWhip. A-and I don’t… I don’t want to keep hurting people.”

And fWhip watches in quiet horror as tears fall down Scott’s face. But… but they aren’t normal tears. They’re frozen on his cheeks, long before they hit the ground, and bounce on the cobblestones with little tink-tink-tinks.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Scott says, and he reaches out to fWhip for a moment, just a moment, before he catches himself, and tucks his hands away again.

fWhip involuntarily makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat, before he has a thought, eyes lighting up. Scott watches him in confusion as fWhip frantically pats down his coat.

“Look, wait, hang on,” he tells Scott, before he finds the right pocket and pulls out his work gloves. “These- these babies? Designed to withstand the extreme temperatures of my forge.”

And fWhip doggedly closes the distance before Scott can argue, pulling his gloves on, and takes Scott’s hands in his. Scott flinches, gasps, his hands flex as frost spreads across fWhip’s gloves, but fWhip just raises a shaky eyebrow, and smiles.

Scott’s eyes widen.

“See?” fWhip squeezes Scott’s hands, coaxing him along, and finally, the tension leaks from Scott, his shoulders uncurl enough to stand tall again. “You can’t hurt me. It’s alright.”

“…Your technology is marvellous,” Scott says, musing. He gently turns fWhip’s hands over so Scott can inspect the gloves closer. “And you’re sure I’m not…?”

“Can barely feel a thing,” fWhip assures him. “You’d really need to start pumping the temperature up or down to damage these.”

In truth, he hasn’t actually really tested these for cold. But they certainly work for heat. Wearing these, he can handle magma and, to some degrees, even lava with his hands. Which is more where his expertise lies. But they’re holding up more than fine right now. fWhip squeezes Scott’s hands again, even as the frost thickens. He still doesn’t feel the cold.

Scott looks up now, finally meeting fWhip’s eyes… and, gods above and below, he looks tired.

“I’m about to go,” Scott whispers. “I’m… I’m going.”

“Where?” fWhip asks, voice equally hushed, worried, and he immediately steps closer.

“Somewhere. Anywhere. Away from here. I have to.”

“You… Scott.”

“I have to,” Scott’s still crying, his frozen teardrops are almost piling around them now. “I need to learn to control myself. And I need to do it somewhere I won’t freeze someone half to death. O-or worse.”

“And you?” fWhip tilts his head, studying Scott’s face.

“Oh,” Scott says, his best attempt at playful, and he even does his best to give fWhip a smile. “The cold doesn’t bother me.”

“…H-how long will you be gone?”

“Long enough,” Scott says, and his hands tighten around fWhip’s for a moment. “I… I don’t know if I should even…”

“You better come back,” fWhip cuts Scott off, brow furrowing as the pain in his chest threatens to seal off his throat. “You better. I’ll hunt you down if you don’t.”

“fWhip,” Scott says He sounds in pain.

“Scott,” fWhip matches his tone. “You… you can’t go. …I-I’m sorry. I hate seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” Scott says, the bitterness in his tone taking fWhip aback, and he watches as Scott’s lip curls. “A menace? A danger? A threat?”

“Scared,” fWhip says, earnest and simple. “In pain.”

He moves in, now. fWhip catches Scott in a full-on hug, and wraps his leathery wings around both of them, best he can.

“You better come back,” he half-growls, hugging tighter as Scott tenses up with a sharp gasp. “We… gods, Scott, we were just beginning to work.”

“I know,” Scott says, and he sounds so… mournful. “Maybe we just weren’t meant to-”

“You better not finish that sentence either,” fWhip cuts him off again, voice so dark, and fWhip looks up sharply to meet Scott’s ice-blue eyes. They’re practically pressed chest-to-chest now. Scott’s shaking in his arms. “I… you can’t… I can’t… I’ve already lost so many, Scott, you…”

fWhip closes his eyes for a moment, before he finally says, “I can’t lose you too.”

Scott’s face crumples, and he watches fWhip with a devastated expression. fWhip takes his opportunity to lean in and place a kiss on Scott’s cheek.

“fWhip!” Scott reprimands him, and snowy owl wings push draconic ones aside. Scott physically shoves his way out of fWhip’s arms.

“What?” fWhip tries not to sound choked up even as he stumbles back a few steps. “You can’t say you don’t want it!”

“I’ll freeze you!” Scott cries, and fWhip’s eyes widen as frost spreads from around Scott’s boots, seeping deeper into the ground, edging closer to fWhip. “I’ll kill you, fWhip, and I don’t want to. You’d be safer without me!”

Scott puts his head in his hands, turns away, wings circling himself, drawing in tight.

“Everyone would be safer without me,” he whispers to himself.

fWhip chokes on his tongue. He can’t breathe. He needs to say something, anything, but he can’t. The words won’t come.

He takes one hesitant step forward. Then another. He tries to take care not to slip on the ice. Scott doesn’t look up until fWhip is directly in front of him again.

“…fWhip?”

fWhip reaches out, now. He reaches out, worn leather gloves reaching out until he cups Scott’s face gently, so gently, and fWhip tears up as he watches Scott’s eyes widen. fWhip guides Scott’s head down, not all the way, just until their foreheads are resting together, and fWhip closes his eyes, staying there. It’s almost too much to bear.

“I can’t stop you,” he says, low and slow. “I know I can’t. But promise me, Scott. Promise me you’ll come back. I need you to come back.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“You can.” fWhip’s face scrunches up, eyes screwing tighter shut. “…Who’s even looking after your people, when you’re gone?”

“My advisors,” Scott says. “I’ve left them letters; they know what to do.”

“…The Grimlands will lend aid, if they need it,” fWhip’s voice is so soft. Scott’s touch is much colder than it used to be, but fWhip isn’t scared of it. He likes it, even. It… fWhip runs too hot for his own good. He could even get used to this, grow fond of this, …if Scott would stay.

“Thank you,” Scott whispers, and somehow, he’s the one who shivers. “…fWhip.”

“Scott.”

fWhip hasn’t opened his eyes yet. He can’t. If he opens his eyes to see that fear on Scott’s face, it’ll… make this far harder. Too hard. fWhip wants to remember what Scott looked like with a smile. What he used to look like before the demon. Before everything.

“What are you doing?” Scott whispers to him.

“I-I’m trying to remember you happy,” fWhip replies honestly. “So it’ll hurt less when you’re gone.”

Scott’s breathing hitches. Under fWhip’s touch, he shudders. Slowly, fWhip feels the familiar warmth and softness of being encircled by feathery wings, and he melts into it.

“Don’t go.” fWhip can’t help but beg.

“I have to.”

“Then kiss me,” fWhip finally opens his eyes, and takes in Scott’s tears, the fear in his eyes, the way his mouth is hanging a little open, the way he’s drawn tenser than a bowstring, and knows he won’t be able to erase how Scott has changed, has been changed, by all of this. “Kiss me, one last time. Please.”

Scott gasps again, and fWhip watches Scott as he openly wars with himself, fear and longing clawing at each other until Scott gasps for air, and-

“I…” Scott’s hands almost make it to fWhip’s face, but they falter, fall a little, and lightly cup his throat, over where his scarf is, like Scott can’t bring himself to touch fWhip’s bare skin.

“Lean in,” fWhip whispers. “Close your eyes, if it helps. I just… Gods. Give me something to remember you by, Scott.”

Scott caves. fWhip watches it happen, watches it play out across Scott’s face. Scott caves, and closes his eyes and tilts his head down, hesitant, waiting. fWhip is the one who cups Scott’s face again to guide the kiss.

Scott’s lips are cold. fWhip doesn’t let it throw him, just presses their mouths together insistently, tries to press everything he can against Scott’s lips to try and let Scott know he has something to come back to.

When they part for air, Scott doesn’t open his eyes for another moment.

fWhip leans back just a little to start undoing his scarf, and he slips it off, loops it around Scott’s neck, and he’s fumbling with doing up the knot when Scott’s eyes fly open.

“I… I can’t take this,” Scott tries to argue, though he makes no move to stop fWhip.

“I have others,” fWhip tells him sharply, doing up the knot a little too tight as his nerves spike. “Remember me.”

Scott touches it softly, his expression twisting. “Red’s not my colour,” he whispers.

“Means you’ll have to give it back.” fWhip drags him in by the scarf now, and kisses him again, pressing his words to Scott’s lips. “Means you’ll have to remember me.”

It seems to be yet another touchy thing to say to Scott – his lips part like he was going to say something. fWhip almost takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss then and there, but he doesn’t. He… doesn’t think Scott would forgive him if he did.

They break away. fWhip just doesn’t want to take his hands off the elf before him, yet. When he does, Scott will go, and it’ll all be real.

“Is there any last things you need?” he asks instead, makes himself ask instead.

“No.” Scott’s hands fall away to hang at his sides.

“You have enough food?”

“I do.”

fWhip smooths down the scarf. …Scott isn’t wrong about red not being his colour. It just kind of washes Scott out.

fWhip still thinks he looks beautiful.

“…Be safe?”

“You too,” Scott says earnestly. “…If there’s an emergency, send an owl. They’ll find me.”

“I will,” fWhip promises.

And the conversation lulls. It’s come to an end, fWhip can feel it has, but he doesn’t want it to. But Scott steps away now, leaving fWhip’s hands trailing behind him. Snow has started to fall around them, slow and soft.

It settles on Scott’s hair, gleaming in the sun.

fWhip wants to say all sorts of things. Things like I’ll miss you and things like I love you. He doesn’t say any of it, though, because… at the end of the day, he knows Scott knows. And he knows it’ll only make this hurt more.

fWhip knows he can’t stop him. Despite how badly he wishes for the contrary, fWhip cannot stop him. And he knows Scott wouldn’t cope with fWhip following. Even if fWhip wanted to, he …can’t. because even outside of the ‘powers’ thing, it isn’t really, politically, the best of times to leave. But fWhip won’t tell him that. He’ll just have to… to try to cover Scott’s tracks for him.

Scott now leaves five, now six, now seven, now eight empty paces between them, before he smiles, so sadly, so scared, at fWhip; and… there. In that moment right there, fWhip knows that this expressionwill be the face that will haunt his dreams from now on.

“Goodbye, Count fWhip,” Scott whispers. It’s almost as soft as the snow falling around them, but it falls louder than an avalanche on fWhip’s ears.

fWhip swallows hard.

“Goodbye, King Scott,” is all he can whisper back. Helpless. He feels helpless, watching Scott extend his wings, put his back to fWhip, and hesitate only once before he takes off.

Scott circles once, overhead. What gold he’s still wearing catches in the sunlight, as does his hair. fWhip has always thought his hair looks particularly fetching in the sun. It makes his heart lurch now. With a few mighty beats of powerful wings, Scott is soaring into the distance.

Just like that, he’s …gone.

fWhip stays rooted to the spot until Scott’s out of eyeshot, and then a little longer, just for good measure. Snow settles on his hair, his shoulders, his wings. fWhip stays, still as a statue, frozen in place until he can’t stand the cold anymore, and he cracks. fWhip wraps himself up in his wings, finally giving in and shivering as he rips his eyes away from the horizon.

He feels barer – colder – without his scarf.

As fWhip drops his head, gritting his teeth, something sparkling catches his eye. fWhip makes a sound – a sound that’s a little too close to a sob to play it off, before he leans down, and scoops up a handful of Scott’s frozen tears. He cradles them in his hands, watching them glint in the morning sun.

They are small and delicate in the palms of his thick, dark, leathery gloves.

…It’s only morning. He has a whole day ahead of him. Buildings to build. Councils to meet with. Treaties to negotiate. Paperwork to finish. Inventions to fix.

He…

H-he needs to replace his scarf first.

fWhip stands, turns sharply, and spreads his wings too, closing his hands around the tears. They don’t even seem to be melting, yet. And they don’t the whole way home, and not even when he takes off his gloves and cups them in his bare hands, where they sit, freezing and lonely, against his skin.

fWhip leaves them on his windowsill, in his bedroom, by his bed. He puts his back to them as he huddles by the fire long enough to stave all the cold off, replaces his scarf, though he gave Scott his favourite one. …It was bloodsheep wool. Sausage had made it for him, years ago.

…It’s one he can probably never replace, nowadays.

Eventually, fWhip rises to his feet, making to leave, to try function for the day, and ends up turning back to the window. fWhip can’t help but notice with detached curiosity and buried pain that, even in the full sun, Scott’s tears aren’t melting.

Well then. Good to see fWhip’s got something to hold onto, too.

So, fWhip doesn’t let himself cry. fWhip plasters on his best smile, and leaves, trying to put some fake pep in his step as he goes to meet up with his civil planning committee to try suss out the last of the preparations for their newest building project, and does his best not to slam his bedroom door behind him, as all he can do is to… continue on with his life, and hope for Scott to come back.

#empires smp #empires s1 #empires fwhip #empires scott #scwhip #empiresshipping #empires fanfic #empires smp fanfic #empires fic #djpurple3's writing yo #i havent posted fic in so long. and it's rarepairs. B)#it's 2am im going to bed now

20 notes · View notes