#if anything thank god he crashed in practice

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[hookingminor]

4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier

a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine

cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol

word count: 7.4k

summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall

-

1. 

Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe. 

Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.

Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.

It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.

“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.

“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing. 

“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”

You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other. 

Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.

Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta. 

His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.

“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”

“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”

“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”

“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.

He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.

You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.

“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”

“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.

“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that. 

“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.

“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.

“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.

Nico was right, it was delicious. 

“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”

You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.

“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”

“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.

Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.

“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.

He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”

“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.

“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”

“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.

“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.

“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.

“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.

“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”

“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.

Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.

“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.

“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.

You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.

“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.

“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.

“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.

You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.

The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.

Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you. 

You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.

Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete. 

And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over. 

Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.

Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.

-

2. 

Nico was getting a little desperate. 

Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.

He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.

So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.

Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.

Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.

“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.

“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.

You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.

“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.

“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.

“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.

“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.

Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.

“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.

“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.

There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.

The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.

You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.

Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.

You: First day all done! :)

He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.

Nico: They’re looking better already!

Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects. 

You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook. 

Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.

Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.

-

3. 

The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door. 

Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.

“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.

Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.

“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.

“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.

“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”

“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”

“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.

“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.

“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.

“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.

“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.

“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”

“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.

His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.

“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.

“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.

“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.

“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.

You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.

When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.

“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.

You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.

“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room. 

Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.

“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.

“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.

-

4.

“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity. 

Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking. 

When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid. 

Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”

“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.

“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.

“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.

“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.

Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.

“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.

Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.

“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.

You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.

“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”

“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.

“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”

“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.

“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.

Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.

He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.

“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.

Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.

“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.

You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air. 

“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.

“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”

You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue. 

Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.

When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.

“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.

“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.

“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”

“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted. 

“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”

You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door. 

“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

-

+ 1 

For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.

You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(

Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?

You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam 

Nico: Stressed out?

You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry 

Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?

You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready

Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)

You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.

-

For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.

And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.

Nico: Open your door

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.

However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you. 

Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.

You: What’s this?

You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.

Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal 

He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.

You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!

Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.

-

After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember. 

So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.

You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door. 

Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.

And once again, it wasn’t him. 

Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees. 

Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.

Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)

PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once

You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling. 

You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.

Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.

You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear 

Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again

-

On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.

Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day

-

On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.

You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.

“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.

“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”

“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.

“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”

“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”

“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.

You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.

“And are you sexually active?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.

“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”

“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”

“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”

Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.

It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.

“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.

Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.

“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”

“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.

“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.

“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.

“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”

“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”

-

On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life. 

Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.

Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!

Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.

The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.

-

After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.

Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.

So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.

“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.

“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.

“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”

By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.

“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.

“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed. 

“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.

“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.

“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”

“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.

“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.

“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.

“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.

You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.

“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.

“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.

“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”

You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.

When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.

“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.

“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”

“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car. 

-

Six weeks later, your results came in.

You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.

“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.

You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.

“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.

Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.

“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.

“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.

Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!

You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.

“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.

“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.

“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.

“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.

“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.

“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.

“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but her brother was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader

it gets less(?) wholesome and we finally have some smut even if it's just solo for now

cw: masturbation, panty stealing, Sukuna is a red flag

Sukuna was doing his laundry, because he was a responsible adult, and he enjoyed doing chores early in the morning after you and the kid had left but before he needed to go in to the shop. It was quiet, which was rare for his apartment now. Not that he minded, but it was easier to clean up when Bug wasn't trying to get him to pretend to be the evil sorcerer from her favorite cartoon.

You said she used to love the sensei character best but now she liked the villain because he had the same "tat-ews" as Sukuna.

God, she was such a cute kid.

Of course, he thought the two of you would have some pretty cute kids yourselves and he thought Bug would make a great older sister.

Whistling to himself, like the wholesome sitcom father he was becoming, he went to open up the dryer so he could move his stuff from the wash when something fell out. He didn't notice what it was at first, just noting that it seemed like you had left a load in the dryer and he planned on showing how helpful he could be by grabbing it for you. He went to grab the extra bin when he saw what had fallen on his shoulder.

It was a blue pair of panties.

Now there was nothing particularly sexy about the panties themselves. They were very practical, as expected of someone as responsible as you. This didn't stop him from picking them up and bringing them to his nose for a deep inhale.

Logically, he knew that they had just been washed and all he would be getting a whiff of was the lavender dryer sheets he kept stocked. Still, he didn't know if it was just his imagination but he swore that he was still able to get a scent of sweet cunt even from the clean panties.

He felt himself start to get hard and he didn't resist the temptation to palm his cock through his sweatpants, as his other hand held your panties to his face. Before he ended up making a mess and cleaning cum out of every crevice of his washing closet, he took your newly acquired panties and went back to his room.

He couldn't wait for this to be your room instead of just his room. For him to smell your shampoo on the extra pillow on his bed and for your clothes to take up half his closet. He had already gone out and bought another set of drawers after you moved in, you hadn't said anything and he was glad because it would have been awkward to explain they were for you when you still were under the impression you were temporarily crashing with a friend. An impression he looked forward to completely shattering at the soonest opportunity.

He thought back to some of the ways it could happen as he slid his sweatpants down just enough to let out his hard cock and balls.

He remembered the other day when you had leaned down to kiss his cheek to thank him for picking up your daughter from daycare. He thought about what might have happened if you had decided you needed to show him how grateful you really were.

You would have tucked the kid in, you were a good mother like that, before shutting the door to what would now be Bug's room while you both made your way down the hall to your room. He didn't think he could have resisted pressing you up against the wall once he had you alone, even knowing your room was a few feet away. He would have had to show you that that kiss on the cheek wasn't enough. He imagined grabbing your hips, the hips that proved you had carried a child and showed how good you would be at having his.

He would have pushed you against the wall, hard enough to knock the breath from you but not so loud as to wake up the kid, he could be quiet. He wondered if you could.

Sukuna's breath had turned to panting as he slid your panties up and down his cock. Beads of precum dripping onto the material until it was almost damp. He brought his other hand down to play with his balls as he kept imagining what he would do to you.

He would have kissed you, fuck he wanted to kiss you. To finally taste you and know that he could do it anytime he wanted. He would have picked you up, shown you that you could never be too heavy for him and wrapped those thighs he had been dreaming about around his waist. He could imagine moving his lips down your cheek, to your neck, to the hint of cleavage he could imagine showing now that your shirt was slipping down your shoulders. He'd stick to kisses and light nips with teeth, not wanting to leave a mark where anyone else could see them. Let everyone else see you for the respectable, working mom you were, he wanted to be the only one to see you marked up and fucked out.

At this point, Sukuna slowed down his strokes before he came too fast. Wanting this to last, wishing you were here to take care of him instead.

Because you would insist through the pants and whimpers he just knew he could pull from you, that the two of you needed to move this to the bedroom. To his bedroom. He would correct you, it was your bedroom now and you would blush as he carried you and set you down on the bed. Sukuna didn't know if he would have the patience to hold back the first time, but he figured he could always make it up to you by eating you out until you were screaming some other time. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle your mouth on his dick until after he'd already come in you.

He would still treat you right, making sure to stretch you out because his cock was just so fucking big and you were so small. He would make sure he got at least three fingers in you before he even tried to get his cock in you.

He just knew you would be begging for him by then and he'd have no choice but to put his hand over your mouth, no to cover your mouth with his, after all you couldn't wake the baby, just to keep you quiet. And then-and then-

Sukuna groaned as he came, his spend soaking your panties until he was sure they were ruined. He sat there, panting until he caught his breath.

When he could feel his legs again, he looked down at your panties. Fuck, he really had done a number on them. Part of him was tempted to keep them as a souvenir, but he hadn't made it this far to scare you away now and even little details counted.

When he came home that night to a freshly cooked meal and a chattering Bug, holding up her arms to be picked up, you made sure to thank him for putting your laundry basket in your room. You had just been so rushed in the morning, you had forgotten to take it out and he was just the best, most helpful roommate you could ask for.

He nodded as he pressed a kiss to your daughter's forehead.

Roommate, right.

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 2

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Summary: After Billy's accident, you go back to the Maximoff house to babysitt the twins.

Time works differently when you’re inside a hospital. That’s true, whether you’re a patient or a doctor.

You measure it in shifts that can extend up to 36 hours. Sometimes you go inside when the sky is dark; by the time you're done it looks exactly the same, and you wonder if the day passed at all.

What’s certain is that you will always run late. Racing around your house, you take your bag, keys and pour coffee on a thermos, carrying a pop tart in your mouth.

You’re so worried with making sure you have everything, you don’t even notice Wanda is at the door until you crash against her.

“I’m so sorry!” you say, the coffee spilling all over your scrubs.

“Oh, my Gosh, is it hot? Are you ok?”

“It’s cold, no worries. Let me get changed, wanna come in?”

You walk back, finding some clean scrubs on a basket near the stairs. Thank God you did your laundry yesterday.

“What’s up, Wands?” you say, changing in the same room. You’re extremely late and can’t afford to go upstairs.

Wanda looks at your smooth skin and toned muscles and blushes, looking away.

“Oh… I… wanted to give you this. Billy drew it the other day. It’s supposed to be you in the hospital”

“That’s so cute” you walk up to her, looking at the drawing over her shoulder. “How’s the arm?”

“It’s good, he’s just itchy”

“Yeah, that happens. Can I keep it?” you ask and she hands you the paper. You put in on the fridge door, a magnet securing the drawing in its place. “I’d love to chat but I gotta run”

Wanda glares when you pick another pop-tart.

“Is that what you call breakfast?”

“I’m late!” you protest with a laugh, taking a bite on your way out.

“Well, come by anytime if you want to have some real food” she offers and you nod, smiling as you get into the car. “Oh, shoot! I forgot to ask. I need a baking tray to put some extra cookies, you wouldn’t happen to have one?”

“It’s your lucky day, my mom gave me one I never use. It’s supposed to be somewhere in the cupboard. There’s a spare key in that ceramic turtle”

“Oh, are you sure? I could come back later”

“No, it’s ok. As a matter of fact, keep it, in case you need anything else” you smile, groaning when your pager goes off again. “Ugh, gotta run! Say thanks to Billy for me”

“Will do” she waves, smiling as you practically put the entire pop-tart in your mouth.

Wanda ignores the regret she feels over not asking for what she really wanted. It wasn’t a baking tray, but some time with you.

—

“Is that your pager or mine?” you say, moaning when Carol’s lips travel lower, pulling your pants down.

“It can wait” she says, leaving open mouthed kisses as you part your legs, your fingers threading through her locks.

“The word emergency is in my job description” you say, reaching out and sighing with relief. “It’s yours”

“Is it 911?”

“Nope”

“Good. Now shut up and let me eat your pussy” Carol says, her tongue darting out to taste you, your hips canting up to move against her mouth.

“Fuck” you say, breathless as you ride Carol’s face. She leaves her place between your legs and you’re about to protest when you feel two fingers stretching you.

“Shhh” she says against your mouth, letting you taste yourself in her lips. “Be quiet for me”

You try to stay quiet, but almost let out a moan when someone knocks on the door of the on call room.

“Doctor Danvers?”

“In a minute” she says, a hand over your mouth. Her fingers pump in and out of you faster and the idea of someone waiting on the other side adds to the thrill. You reach your orgasm with a muffled cry.

“You good?” Carol says with a smile, standing up to get her clothes.

All you can do is nod, waiting for your breathing to go back to normal.

“See you later, pretty girl” she kisses your cheek, going out to meet the resident that was looking for her.

It was cliche, hooking up with someone at the hospital, but of course you had needs and no time to fulfill them outside of this building.

The fact that Carol wasn’t looking for anything serious helped too.

No feelings, no complications.

The rest of your shift goes surprisingly quiet, but you’re still urged to go home when Chief Fury comes across you in the hallway.

Since you leave on time and very well rested, you decide to go for a run as soon as you get home. You enjoy the physical exertion and being outdoors, appreciating the beautiful sunset as you jog around the neighbourhood.

It’s barely getting dark when you reach home, Wanda outside talking on the phone. You wave, but the tense smile she gives back makes you walk to her house instead of yours.

“Everything ok?” you ask as soon as she hangs up.

“Yeah, I had this thing but the nanny cancelled last minute”

“Oh, that sucks, I’m sorry” you look back to your place, and then your eyes meet hers. “Why don’t I take care of the twins for you?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to… you just got back from work, you’re probably tired”

“It was an easy shift, for once. Plus, I gather they don’t stay up too late, right?”

“No, it would only be two hours, three tops” she promises and you nod.

“It’s settled then, let me just take a shower real quick”

Wanda nods, her eyes raking over your body. She suddenly wished you’d go for runs more often, as you tend to wear really short shorts that show your toned legs.

“I can’t thank you enough” she says, going back to reality.

“Pancakes are always a good call” you wink, going across the street to your place. “Be right back!”

As you shower and change into more comfortable clothes, a part of you gets nervous over babysitting Billy and Tommy. Sure, you were good when you did your rounds in Peeds, but that didn’t mean anything compared to spending an evening making sure they were entertained enough.

Either way, you can’t back out now, so you cross the street, knocking on Wanda’s door. You’re taken aback by how beautiful she looks with a red skirt and red turtleneck sweater, knee high boots completing the outfit.

“You look amazing” you say, forcing yourself to look at her eyes, but it’s not any better, the make up enhancing her features and those striking green eyes.

“Thank you” she says shyly and you nod, not trusting yourself with your words. Wanda moves aside to let you in and you find Billy and Tommy in the living room.

“Hey, kiddos” you greet and they look at you excitedly.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you gonna hang with us?”

“Yeah, of course! We’ll have some fun” you ruffle Tommy’s hair, and inspect Billy’s cast. “Woah, someone has a lot of stickers”

“All of my classmates gave me one! I still have some space here, wanna pick one out?” the boy says, and you smile. Yeah, he moved on from the scared stage to being the cool kid with the broken arm at school.

“Of course, I’ll have to find some cool sticker in my collection” you promise.

Wanda leads you to the kitchen, showing you around. Your mouth waters at the smell of the pasta she made.

“I won’t be gone for long. They’re supposed to be in bed at 9 but I know they’ll get excited because you’re here so I’ll leave it up to you to decide”

“Alright. I’ll try my best to be the adult in the room”

“And remember…”

“No candy after 8” you repeat and Wanda chuckles.

“I can’t thank you enough, seriously” she says, walking towards the door.

“Not a problem”

The boys go say goodbye to their mom, and you think it’s adorable how they hug her and each give her a kiss on the cheek.

Wanda waves goodbye and you close the door, blushing as you appreciate one last time how amazing she looks in that outfit.

“So, what do the Maximoffs do for fun around here?”

“We watch movies or play videogames”

“Oh, like what? Crash, Spyro?” you say excitedly, because you love videogames and it’s been ages since you’ve played.

“What’s a Spyro?” Billy says, confused.

“What? Dude!”

“Dude!” the twins turn to each other, speaking at the same time. Oh, no.

“Damn it” you curse and they repeat that too. You cover your mouth with your hands, afraid of letting out another word that is way worse. “Alright, don’t speak like that. Only adults can say certain words”

“But Mom doesn’t speak that way either”

“That’s because she’s a very mature person. Come on, I’ll show you the best videogame ever”

While you wait for the game to download on their console, Tommy shows you around the house, Billy close behind.

“Can we have dinner before playing?”

“Sure” you nod, going back to the kitchen where you take plates, serving pasta and juice for the twins while you settle on a can of soda.

“Your mom is the best cook, I swear” you say with your mouth full, making the kids laugh. It’s been forever since you’ve had a homemade meal.

“Do you cook?”

“God, no. My talents are limited to medicine, Billy”

“So, do you eat hospital food?” Tommy says, grossed out and you laugh.

“We have a cafeteria and the food is ok, plus I forget to eat most of the time anyway. But seriously, your mom’s food is to die for. That’s just an expression, obviously”

“She made cookies. Can we have some?”

You look at the clock, and it’s almost 8.

“Alright, one for each”

The twins cheer, eating their pasta and asking you questions, most of them innocent, until…

“Why don’t you have kids?”

You choke on your drink, the boy blissfully unaware of how awkward you feel.

“Oh, well, Tommy… being a surgeon takes a long time. You have to go to school for a lot of years and then work at a hospital. So, there’s not a lot of time left to do other stuff”

Please don’t ask me how babies are made.

Thankfully, the questions stop once you give them a cookie, and they munch on them as you set up the game.

“He’s a dragon!” Billy says, amazed at the little purple creature prancing around the screen. They laugh when Sparks eats the butterflies and you can’t help the grin that’s on your face, remembering your childhood and how you used to spend your days playing.

“Your turn” you hand the control to Tommy, showing him the basic commands. Billy leans against you, asking some questions about the game.

You hold the control on the right side so he can push the buttons on the left once it’s his turn, enjoying the way they celebrate each time they get a chest full of diamonds.

The music of the game is very soothing, and after an hour playing, they’re both struggling to keep their eyes open. One glance at the clock tells you it’s 9:30, so the timing is perfect.

“Anyone tired?”

“No” Tommy lies.

“Really? I was thinking of trying out how strong I am, carrying both of you upstairs”

That makes them giddy and before they can run away, you carry them over your shoulders. The twins kick and scream, laughing as you go up the stairs.

“I’m so strong” you say as you reach the final step, trying to hide how out of breath you are.

“Now go down the stairs!"

“Uh, pass. Brush your teeth, come on” you say.

“Can we wait for mommy to be back?” Billy says before going inside the bathroom.

“Sure thing. Change into your PJs and we’ll read a story while we wait for her”

Of course, by the time they’re tucked in and you’re reading from the book Tommy choose, both boys are struggling to stay awake.

By 9:45 you leave their room quietly, closing the door behind you and going back to the first floor.

Your body is finally catching up to the exhaustion of the day, but you clean the kitchen and scroll through your phone, reading updates for patients and a text from Carol asking about your next shift.

Just when you’re about to answer her, the front door opens. At first, Wanda makes some noise, but upon seeing the quiet in the house, she closes the door softly, removing her boots.

“Hey” you say, leaning against the wall, hands on your pockets. “Had fun?”

“Uh, sorta” Wanda makes a face and you raise an eyebrow. “It was a blind date that went horribly wrong”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she walks up to you, and you appreciate how short she is, without the heels she’s always wearing. “The restaurant was awful, he was an ass, and I am never ever letting my coworkers set me up with someone again”

You laugh at that, shrugging your shoulders.

“That sucks, especially the part about the food”

“Yeah. I’ll just grab whatever from the fridge”

“Ok. The kids are asleep. We had dinner, played some games and they wanted to wait up for you but it was almost 10. I’ll... uh, leave you to it” you get distracted by the way Wanda bites on a strawberry, your eyes going to her lips.

“Oh, yeah, of course. You must be tired” she says and your mind must be playing you tricks because she sounds disappointed.

You make a face, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Sorry, I just… would you stay while I eat? It would be nice to have pleasant company while I pretend this date never happened”

“Sure. I can definitely have more of your pasta”

This time, Wanda pulls out a bottle of red wine, and you enjoy the taste of it along with the food she made. It feels like the fanciest meal you’ve had in ages, even if it’s just at your neighbours kitchen.

“What about you?” Wanda says between bites.

“What about me?”

“Do you date?” she says with a smile, sipping from her glass.

“No, not really. It’s hard to do it with my crazy work hours. And I’m not sure I’d date another surgeon”

“Why not?”

“Some of them are batshit crazy” you say, making Wanda laugh.

“Oh, this is the first time I’ve laughed this evening”

“Happy to be of service" you raise your glass. "I’m gonna be a doctor for a second and feed my curiosity. Who else has twins in your family?”

“Me”

“What?”

You’ve met her for two years and somehow, you never knew this?

“Yeah, I have a twin brother. He lives across the country” Wanda says.

“That sounds nice. Not the living away part, but having someone to grow up with” you say, thinking about your own childhood. Wanda waits for you to look up, and you explain yourself. “I was an only child, but then my mom remarried when I was eleven. She and her husband had more children but, I don’t know, I never felt part of it”

“Was it something they did?” Wanda says with a soft voice, her hand coming closer to yours.

“Uh, no. My mom’s really nice, and I’m sure she didn’t do anything on purpose… but of course you’ll turn your focus to your youngest children, that’s how it works. I try to be around but it doesn’t feel like I belong. So I’m better at the hospital, working the days away”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, really. Maybe I’ll return her calls one of these days”

“Wow, now I feel special because you answer my texts” she jokes and you nod.

“You are special, Wanda”

The woman blushes, you biting your lip at the beautiful shade of red tinting her cheeks.

In spite of yourself, the alcohol relaxes you and you let out a yawn.

“Someone’s past their bed time”

“Yeah, yeah” you rub your eyes, standing up to wash the dishes.

“Let me” Wanda says, standing between you and the sink. For a moment, you consider pulling her closer and kissing her, but it’s probably the sleep depravation, or the alcohol making you delusional.

“Thanks, Wanda” you stay close, your eyes never leaving her face.

“Thank you, for taking care of them”

“Anytime” you nod, taking a step back before you act on your feelings.

“Text me when you’re home?” Wanda asks and you laugh.

“I live across the street”

“Yeah, but you had wine and you’re tired, one never knows in these cases”

“Fine” you linger on the threshold of the door, smiling as she looks at you. “Night, Wanda”

You wait until you’re home to pull out your phone, smiling as you type.

Y/N: Just got home. Traffic was horrible!

Wanda: Very funny.

Y/N: :)

Wanda: Night, Y/N

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: Onyankopon x black!reader

warnings: beach sex, fluffy

a/n: this was something i quickly put together bc guess what y'all. a bitch turns 22 today!!!! AHHHHHH. ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ we'll see if im sober enough later to share some pictures, but i do hope yall enjoy this fic. she's very cutesy

Birthday wishes

Loved. That's the feeling coursing through your body as the ones you loved sang you happy birthday. Your cheeks hurting from the attention and laughter due to Jean and Eren's off key singing.

Looking up from the dessert decorated with flames your eyes scanned the tent before landing on him.

The single dimple decorating his left cheek was prominent as he happily sang along with the group. The most handsome smile being sent your way as your eyes locked, giving you a full display of his gold grills decorated with your initials on each upper canine.

To say Onyankopon was a good boyfriend was an understatement. He was everything and more when it came to your wishes in a man. He was respectful, kind, passionate, extremely handsome, and the most caring man you had ever met.

Birthdays had never been your thing due to something always going wrong leaving you sad at the end of the night. However, with Ony he made it his mission to have you feel properly celebrated, always leaving you feeling like a princess by the end of the night.

Throughout the entire 3 years of your relationship, he seemed to make each birthday better than last. This year being a surprise trip to Bora Bora.

Forcing yourself to break eye contact with him you looked back down at the dessert just as the song ended.

“Girl, make a wish. I'm hungry” Sasha blurted out immediately, earning a chorus of laughs and a light shove from Mikasa.

Quickly thinking of a wish, you lightly blew out the candles and basked in the cheers and applause sent your way.

After hours of having all attention on you, there was finally a time when you and Ony could run off together.

Silently the two of you walked hand in hand as you listened closely to the crashing of the waves.

“You having a good day?” He broke the silence once no longer in the eyesight of your friends

“I am” You smiled brightly as you stopped to admire the sunset “I can't thank you enough for doing this, Ony”

A small chuckle escaped him as he stopped to look at you.

Unable to tear his eyes away from your face as his heart melted at the glow the orange hue dancing on your face gave you.

God, you were just so beautiful to him. The way you smiled down to the way the soft breeze lightly blew your sundress was enough to make him fall in love all over again.

“Don't thank me, princess. You deserve this and more” He voiced as his large hands gripped your waist, a gentle hum leaving him as he finally felt satisfied with the feeling of your body flushed against him.

“I’d do anything for you. I'm just blessed to have you in my life” He admitted, voice softer than before.

Leaning down his lips brushed over the sensitive skin of your neck before trailing up to lightly place a kiss on your lips

Before you knew it you were staring up at the colorful hues of the sky as he delivered slow and passionate strokes

“Ony” You mewled softly, nails scratching across his back as he practically laid on top of you.

"Mhmm?" He murmured, his voice vibrating against your neck before lifting his head to stare into your eyes

There was nothing you could do but drown in those chocolate brown eyes. Complete bliss surrounding you as the waves seemed to time perfectly with his delicate movements.

“I love you so much” You finally gasped out. Voice wavering due to the intense amount of love and pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I love you too, mama” He whispered, strong arms reaching down to hook under your leg, giving him a better angle

The moment was perfect. The crashing of the waves, transition into nightfall, and grunts that slipped past Ony’s lips

You weren't exactly a true believer in wishes but at this moment in time you were the biggest believer of all.

[marlenesluv]

۵pairing: fem!albonsibling!ballerina x platonic f1 grid. also, reader x lando norris.

۵type: social media au

۵authors note: sorry it’s been so long! if you want a tag for new updates for this series, leave a comment letting me know! i’ll tag you in upcoming posts :)

۵warnings: dark side of ballet (this includes: ed/not eating as much, self criticism, teacher, etc) please be aware of this while reading. i love you. also cussing.

۵summary: a month after the dinner, y/n is still working to perfect her performance for her role as the black/white swan. luckily, she had her “friend(?)” lando to help her and keep her company.

۵this is part 4! please read part 1, part 2, and part 3 before this one for it to make sense. (part 1 is mine, i just made it on my main blog)

masterlist here -> masterlist link

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: lilymhe, landonorris, and 854,282 others

tagged: lilymhe, landonorris, and alex_albon

y/n.albon: reminiscing bc i start training for ballet tomorrow, missing friends and shit👾💜

view comments…

lilymhe: noooo i miss you, cant wait to crash ur apartment every few days 💘

↳ y/n.albon: my door is always open for u

↳ landonorris: and me???😪

↳ y/n.albon: 🔑

↳ landonorris: 🙂↕️

↳ alex_albon: wait. LANDO HAS A KEY!?????

↳ alex_albon: why do i even comment. you NEVER ANSWER ME😭🤧

user2: alex is just so offended atp😭

f1wags: new wag manifestinggggg🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

fp4albons: my favssss

ln4updates: lando has a key to her apartment?🥲we know they’re dating like js announce it😁

user7: alr, my favorite people ever (real)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You loved ballet more than anything, but the hours were ungodly. Waking up on a Monday morning at 5am to be at the studio by 7:30am was unforgivable.

But then, when you’re there till 11pm…it’s exhausting.

After those fifteen hours of practice, you needed about a week of sleep and four advil. Not to mention you were starving.

Your instructor said “lay off those bagels.” To which you nodded and then rolled your eyes once you were out of sight.

Your instructor was the best of the best, and you knew she meant well. She wanted the best for you, for you to be the best.

Sometimes, this was draining. In her eyes, the best was as thin as paper. Ballet was like this, and it was hard. But you had dealt with it for so long, that you started tuning them out years ago.

Fuck them. Its a sport. So, on your walk home, you grabbed a slice of pizza and a diet coke. You deserved it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and 879,238 others

y/n.albon: 🌚⭐️🌝

view comments…

landonorris: never letting you drive my car again

↳ y/n.albon: okay (i hate driving so this is perfect)

↳ landonorris: (thank god because i hate being the passenger)

user3: name a more iconic couple? *crickets* yeah i thought so

f1editpg4: lando on the first slide is a mooddddd

workinglateee3: uhhhhh the second pic🤧🤧🙃

francisca.cgomes: if you’re not rooting for portugal…

↳ y/n.albon: uhhhhh, they’re my second fav team😁

↳ francisca.cgomes: fairrr🫶

user6: me waiting for them to date 🙂

user9: mom and dad fr

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your texts with alex:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After deciding that leaving Alex on read would be best for now, you walked into your favorite little italian restaurant that you ordered some pasta from after practice got over.

Should you be eating breadsticks, gnocchi, and a tiramisu for dinner? Eh, probably not, but you were tired and in need of some comfort food.

The whole situation with Lando felt like nothing and everything all at once. You knew he was single, and he knew you were as well. He also knew how upset you were about Ben quitting, but he didn’t pity you which was nice.

Family that had found out had been texting and calling you for weeks. Telling you how sorry they are, but you didn’t care that much. Truth be told, it was just inconvenient and inconsiderate.

If Lando knew one thing, it would how he knew how you functioned. At this point in knowing each other, Lando knew your schedule more than anyone else. He paid more attention. He never missed a planned hangout, a rehearsal, or dinner.

Stopping yourself, you walked up to the counter and grabbed your food, saying bye to the workers and started walking back home. What you didn't know was that Lando had happened to drive by and saw you walking.

Lando debated picking you up. The last thing he wanted was for you to think he was stalking you. It really was pure coincidence that he saw you. After having a mental fight with himself, he turned his car around and slowed down by the sidewalk.

You, wearing leggings, a sweater, long socks and tennis shoes and your hair down. Eyes focused on your phone as you struggled to find a good song to play through your headphones. Your ballet bag hanging off your shoulder and takeout in the opposite hand.

Smiling, Lando rolled his window down. "Y/n!"

You furrowed your brows, looking up and seeing a familiar face.

"Lando? What are you- are you following me now?!" You asked, stopping to talk as he stopped his car.

"What? Wha- no! I was driving by and you were just there!" He defended himself, nervous about your reaction.

"Uh huh..."

"Do you want a ride home?" Lando asked, tilting his head a little.

"Are you going to kidnap me if I get in?"

"Y/n! No! Stop that, just-...do you want a ride, or no?" He asked, hoping for you to say yes.

"Um...." You looked at the ground, then the buildings, and finally met his eyes, "Okay, yeah, thanks."

You opened the back door and threw your bags in, placing the food on the ground. Then, you got in the front, taking your headphones off and buckling up.

"How was practice?" Lando asked, pulling onto the road again and heading to your apartment building.

"It was okay. Lots of criticizing." You sighed, toying with your sweater string.

"About?" Lando loved your love for ballet. But sometimes, he wished he could beat your instructor. Always bringing you down, for no reason. In his eyes, you were perfect. He was well aware that he liked you...more than friends.

“Form, diet, you know..all that shit.” You laughed, watching as Lando skillfully pulled into the parking garage of your apartment. “Thanks for driving me, Lando.” You smiled, getting out and grabbing your bags as Lando exited the car as well.

“Care if I come up?” He asked, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket as you nodded and started walking, Lando quick on your trail.

‘Maybe he does like me…’ you thought as you both walked into your apartment and you started to split up the food you had ordered.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by: y/n.albon, carlossainz55, and 982,194 others

landonorris: nights like this❤️

view comments…

y/n.albon: ♾️

*liked by creator*

oscarpiastri: have something to tell us, mate?

↳ landonorris: nah

f1wags: we have been summoned, WHAT

user3: it’s y/n bro i’m telling you

alex_albon: um…ok…..

ln4editpagee: we all know y/n took that first pic

user8: that’s literally y/n, i know those headphones anywhereeee

williams4life: alex has to be freaking out omg

↳ formula1wags: lily has to deal with the freak out too😭💀

y/ns1fp4: MOTHERRRR MOTHER MOTHER

user1: obsessed with this post, it’s my roman empire fr

user3: do we stay calm or freak out guys??????

↳ vrooms19: BOTH

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twitter:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

tag: @rhythmstars

if you would like a tag for future parts of this series, leave a comment here and i’ll add you :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[diariesofthelover]

A New Regular

synopsis: After his favorite bookstore in Gotham went out of business, Jason had to find a new one that he’d actually like. He decided to check out one a couple blocks down from his apartment in hopes that it’ll be a decent replacement, when he goes in he finds something worth coming back for.

notes: Jason Todd x reader, 3rd person pov, reader works at a bookstore.

Of course Jason’s favorite bookstore went out of business. It was a small store tucked away in one of Gotham’s less populated neighborhoods meaning that they never got enough sales and it didn’t help that their star customer was “dead” for a couple years.

Now he had to go searching for a replacement, god he had a strong dislike for that word, something that’ll at least be adequate enough since he knew that nothing could ever replace his original bookshop. Not with all the memories, the owners who knew him so well, the atmosphere, and that certain smell that brought him back to the last time where he actually felt happy. The place meant more to him than just a bookstore, it was a piece of his childhood that wasn’t tainted by anything, and now it’s gone.

His search began with another small shop that was only a few blocks down from his apartment, convenient. He wasn’t excited about this, no, he didn’t want to be doing this in the first place. His place should’ve never closed, it should still be there running and waiting for him, but it wasn’t which upset him more than he thought it would.

With a slight scowl on his face he made the walk to the unfamiliar bookstore by his apartment. Jason’s hood was up as usual, trying to keep his face away from people on the street for numerous reasons.

After a few minutes he made it to the possible replacement. It was nuzzled in between a cafe and a record store, fitting. It was small, smaller than the rest of the businesses on the block. With uncertainty Jason walked in, a doorbell sounded signaling his entrance. There were only a few other customers in the store, quietly picking out books to escape to, and no workers in sight.

“At least I won’t be bothered,” he thought to himself.

He headed straight for the classics, hoping to stumble upon a work he hasn’t read yet, practically impossible. As he searched through the novels he heard footsteps coming to this section, being who he was Jason was able to pick up on them several seconds before they got to where he was. When the steps came to a stop Jason looked up from the books to see who was near him now, was it curiosity, paranoia, or both?

What he faced was someone who was either an employee or an extreme book enthusiast as she was holding a stack of books that went so far up that her face was hidden behind the literature.

His first thought was to help, that’s the kind of guy he was or at least used to be, but he didn’t do anything as he looked away and went back looking for books to read. He wasn’t interested in meeting new people and talking to strangers anymore, even if they shared the same love for reading as he did. In fact, the idea alone made his stomach churn which is why he minded his business and kept to himself. People were probably better off without him in their lives anyway.

All of a sudden there was a crash as each book fell to the floor, the noise startling him a little.

“Shit,” he heard the girl swear under her breath as she squatted down to pick up the books.

Jason glanced over to her, she had a name tag signaling that she worked there as well as a defeated expression on her face. The longer he stood there not helping, the faster the guilt began to seep in.

God fucking damn it, fine.

Before he could even register what he was doing, Jason squatted down across from her helping her retrieve the dropped books.

“Oh thank you, you really didn’t have to,” she said shyly.

Jason didn’t respond, instead he gave her a slight nod as his way of saying, “no worries”. He was trying his best to avoid any eye contact and keep his eyes locked on the books but he couldn’t help but take a look at her face.

She was beautiful, fuck, so beautiful actually she may as well of come out of one of the novels she dropped. He quickly looked back down again hoping a blush hadn’t formed on his face, he knew that if he spoke now he’d stutter and make a fool out of himself.

She couldn’t help but steal a couple of glances of him as well. Her gaze went from book to him then back to the books then to his perfect face again. Some may have found him to look incredibly intimidating, most actually, and she did but she also thought him to be incredibly handsome. Maybe she’d been reading too much but he looked like he’d be a character from any of those classic romance novels that she loved.

Jason rose as he gathered the remaining novels. She looked up at him from where she was kneeling below him and to her he looked like god. Forget Austen’s novels, he was from a greek myth. His shoulders muscular and broad even under his red hoodie and brown leather jacket, his thighs thick with muscles hidden under the denim, and his height…well he was certainly tall, much taller than she. She had to be mindful of her facial expressions as she gawked at him for far too long.

He tried to make himself look smaller, tried to relax his muscles and hunch over. He didn’t want to intimidate her or scare her off. After being resurrected, his body began to change rapidly. Yes puberty kicked in but the lazarus pit was like an intense steroid resulting in him being huge, an absolute unit.

Sure, he liked how he looked when he was suited up as Red Hood but when he was without his mask and armor, he left like a brute. His size made him feel like some sort of monster. He didn’t want to scare good people away, especially women, but he knew he appeared incredibly intimidating to them all regardless of what he wanted.

And the scars, god that was the worst part for him. His body is scattered with them from all the fighting he’s done and violence he’s endured, his face not left unmarked either. As a kid, he thought they were cool, that it meant that you were strong and a survivor, now it makes him feel weak and reminds him of what has happened to him and what he became as a result. Each scar held a story, not the kinds he wants to be reading about.

All of these thoughts were swirling in Jason’s head as the bookstore worker looked up at him in what he thought was horror and disgust.

To his surprise she stood up with half of the novels in her hands with a sweet smile on her face.

“Thank you again, that was very kind of you,” she softly said still with a smile on her perfect face.

Jason hadn’t been called kind in awhile, it caught him off guard for a moment as a small smile broke out on his face.

“No problem,” was all he chose to say as he handed her the rest of the books.

“Do you need help finding anything? I practically know where everything is, especially in this section,” she let out a small laugh.

“I,” he cleared his throat, “I’m just browsing, thank you,” his deep voice contradicted his shy tone as he turned his back to her before she could see the blush that threatened to paint his structured face.

“Okay, well just let me know you if need anything, I’ll be around,” she said a little awkwardly.

Disappointed, she went over to the shelf behind Jason to do her job.

The two couldn’t help but look over their shoulders to sneak glances at one another, never catching each other in the process.

She only had one more book left to put away, Frankenstein. Of course, it was on the same shelf that Jason was currently browsing through.

“Excuse me, sorry,” she came up behind him to slip the last novel on the shelf. Jason stepped to the side giving her space, his eyes caught on the book in her hand.

She noticed his possible interest and stopped herself from returning it to its place.

“Oh, did you want to see this one?” She had a hopeful expression on her face as she reached the book out for him to take.

Jason read Frankenstein when he was younger but he hadn’t gone back to it since his death, he feared that it would hit too close to home. He didn’t want to relate to the monster, especially as much as he did, he wanted things to be different. He’d oftentimes fantasize about a life where he didn’t get killed or at least a world where Batman avenged him, these fantasies only screwed with his head more. Maybe it was time for him to really look at reality through a fictional lens, maybe it could help him figure some shit out.

Jason accepted her offer, his calloused fingers brushing against hers when he grabbed the book.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he examined the new cover.

“I really enjoyed that one, it’s actually one of my favorites,” she beamed but got no response from Jason. She quickly grew embarrassed as she felt that he was bothered by her talking and overall presence. In reality, he wanted to hear more. After a couple of seconds of awkward silence, she turned away ready to leave him alone.

“Why’s that?” He suddenly asked causing her to turn back around again, his focus still on the book in his large hands.

Caught off guard she took awhile to respond, “The story, the character, well everything about it really I could go on and on.”

Jason finally looked at her, his cheeks heated but he didn’t care he wanted to talk to her.

“I’m listening.”

The pair went on to discuss the book that they both had a love for. Luckily, the store remained relatively dead and no one intruded on their conversation. Jason was mesmerized by the way she spoke and the way she thought. She was charmed by how good of a listener he was and his own takes.

For the next couple hours they had jumped from book to book, connecting pieces of their personal lives to literature, it was their way of getting to know each other.

He felt silly for ever worrying about finding a place that at least was decent. He ended up finding a treasure, one worth coming back for again and again.



[verstappensrealwife]

Club Lights - Lando Norris x Reader

fluff, ¿angst?

approx 1200 words

READER IS FROM MANCHESTER + FRIENDS WITH ANGRY GINGE

warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of kissing and sex- nothing 18+. I tried to use more speech :s

lando norris masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

Lando was streaming fortnite with Morgan (AngryGinge), Max (F), and Filly, when he said something that caused more than laughter from Morgans end of the call.

“Y/n, god bless her heart, is not my girlfriend.” Ginge had to quickly say before any misconceptions were thought.

“But- I- You were linking arms all throughout the time you were in Monaco?” Lando replied, a look of confusion and disbelief on his face. “Prove she isn’t. Call her right now!”

Ginge simply shrugged and grabbed his phone, scrolling his contacts and landing on you.

It rung twice before your voice- on speaker- was played down Morgan’s mic.

“What do you want?”

“Fuck me, wanna be a bit nicer.”

“No, not really…” There was a pause where no one said anything, “Well what do you want, Morgan? I am busy!”

“I love you,” He was trying to bait you.

You laughed loudly- so loud the mic cut out a few times- “Have you drank? Call your girlfriend not me!” You chuckled before hanging up on him.

Ginge stared blankly at his camera, knowing Lando was watching. “Was that enough proof, Lando?”

Lando ignored him, although very satisfied,  “So~ Who’s your girlfriend Ginge?”

—

A few weeks later, Morgan extended another invitation to Monaco, which you eagerly accepted, thrilled at the prospect of a free trip. Upon meeting up at Manchester Airport, Morgan was relentless with his vlogging, capturing every moment up close—from your reunion at the terminal, to boarding the plane, takeoff, the in-flight experience, landing, and even baggage claim. Every opportunity he had, his camera was practically shoved up your nose.

When Lando arrived to pick you both up, Max was also recording, documenting Lando for his own channel. It was impossible to miss—especially for you—the way Lando looked at you with literal heart-eyes as you stepped out of the Nice-Côte d’Azur airport in the south of France.

"Good morning!" you cheerfully greeted, pulling your suitcase behind you with a coffee in hand.

Lando could barely muster a response, causing Max to chuckle behind the camera. Lando's attention was entirely on you during the drive to the hotel, to the point where he nearly crashed.

Your hotel room was charming, featuring a large bed, a stylish bathroom with a huge mirror, and a lovely view of the Monaco streets.

Unsurprisingly, Lando was quick to offer his assistance, suggesting he come up to your room to "help unpack and whatever."

You smiled gratefully as Lando heaved your 15kg case up the flight of stairs to your room, his muscles straining with the effort. "Thanks, Lan," you said, flashing him a warm smile. "I really appreciate it."

"It's nothing, I'd do it all over again for you," he replied, a deep blush creeping up his neck. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "You don't have a boyfriend, right?"

You shook your head, no, and a heavy silence settled between you, tinged with disappointment that he didn't continue to speak.

Lando began helping you put your clothes into the wardrobe, his hands moving deftly until he reached your underwear. Suddenly, he seemed paralyzed, his eyes darting around the room, trying to look anywhere but at the intimate garments.

"Lando, I googled you. I know you're not shy about seeing people's underwear," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

"Hey!" he retorted, his face flushing even redder. "You shouldn't believe everything you see!"

You gave him a pointed look. "You believed I was sleeping with Morgan..."

He huffed in frustration. "Rightly so... I mean I would—" He abruptly stopped, his words hanging in the air.

"What, you'd sleep with Morgan?" you laughed, but the humor faded as you saw the mortified expression on his face. Lando looked utterly flustered, as if he wished the ground would swallow him whole.

You stopped laughing, suddenly aware of the tension. His eyes were wide, nervous, and embarrassed, almost traumatized by what he had just admitted... out loud... in front of the girl he was clearly talking about.

"Oh, right," you said, your voice trailing off. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, but the words caught in your throat. You desperately wanted to kiss him right then and there.

"I—sorry—erm," he stammered, his voice shaky. "I'll talk to you later."

He moved faster than the cars he drove, practically fleeing from your hotel room, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

Later that night, Morgan waited outside your door, poised to dive into the allure of Monegasque nightclubs. You adorned a stunning, shimmering top paired with elegant black trousers, exuding understated glamour. Sharing an Uber, the anticipation built, though Lando was initially nowhere to be found. However, Max had secured a booth, complete with a large pitcher of an enticing orange cocktail, surrounded by a few unfamiliar faces.

One drink in, Lando sauntered over and playfully collapsed into the booth beside you. His hair, slightly tousled, added to his charming dishevelment. Clad in a simple jean-top combo and a watch that undoubtedly cost more than your annual rent, he exuded effortless style. The club thrummed with energy, the pulsating strobe lights and the dance-club remix of Nelly Furtado's "Say It Right" filling the air.

Lando's drunken smile was captivating, his eyes locked onto yours, his skin aglow under the club lights, making him look irresistibly beautiful. "Hi," he murmured dreamily, patting your thigh a few times before resting his hand there.

"Y'alright, Lan?" you asked, amused.

"Y'alright!" he mimicked with a laugh. "I love your voice, your accent, and your face. Such a beautiful face," he slurred.

You laughed, "How many drinks have you had?"

He widened his eyes in response, silently conveying the answer: "a lot."

While the table engaged in lively conversation, Lando's attention remained on you, murmuring your name just to gaze into your eyes, often letting his eyes drift to your lips.

"Why don't you like me?" he suddenly whispered in your ear, his face inches from yours.

"I like you," you replied, confused. He frowned, indicating that wasn't what he meant. "Yeah, I like-like you. I've never said I didn't."

"Like... like you'd hold hands and kiss me?"

You smiled, "Ask me when you're sober."

The next day, you woke with only a slight nausea, the remnants of the night before. As you stepped out of the shower and dressed for the day's filming, a knock echoed through the hotel. Opening the door, you found Lando, holding a bouquet of lilies, a bright smile on his face.

"What are you doing—and how are you not hungover?" you asked, surprised.

"I drink green smoothies... Anyway, I'm here to officially ask you on a real date," he declared, "with me. Right now."

Taking the lilies from his outstretched hands, you nodded. "Yeah—let me dry my hair first, bu—"

Before you could finish, Lando grabbed your wrist, pulling you out of the room, quickly snatching your keycard from the table and shutting the door behind you. "You look beautiful, and I cannot wait any longer to not see you on a date with me. So, we are leaving. Now."

You groaned, feeling the damp ends of your hair.

"Lando!"

[runningthroughthegarden]

finally kissing you

the relationship you had with art was complicated to say that least. you had always tried your best to keep your feelings for him a secret. you didnt want to be just another girl pining over him. you were his best friend after all, your job was to support him, not fall in love with him. but that didnt matter anymore, cause you had fallen in love with him. and now you were burdened with the task of having to pretend like he was just your best friend.

-

it was a usual thursday night, after training you would head over to art’s place to study or watch a movie. tonight you decided the homework could wait and put on your favorite movie.

his arms clung around your waist as his head lay softly on your chest. you raked your fingers through his curls with a soft smile on your face. it was times like this you truly thought your relationship could be something more. that soon came crashing down.

“thank you y/n” he whispered so lightly you almost missed it.

“for what?” you softly giggled.

“just everything, i cant imagine what id do without you. dont tell patrick but i think youre my favorite best friend” he replied, quickly gazing up at you with a soft smile before snuggling back into you.

best friend. you knew thats all that this was, but the subtle reminder hit harder than youd like.

“yeah of course” you let out a small laugh to cover the break in your voice, tears threatening to spill.

you could tell by his change in breathing he had fallen asleep. before you knew it hot tears were spilling down your cheeks. this was so stupid. you knew you were just his best friend. but here you were crying as his arms clung around you and his breath tickled your neck.

you couldn’t take it anymore. you slowly slipped out of his grip to grab your things. taking one last look at his peaceful state, you left.

-

waking up on friday morning was honestly a shit show. you felt pathetic and just wanted to forget about all of it. so you decided it was time to move on.

it was no secret you had guys who would do anything to go out with you. you never paid them any attention cause you had art. but it was time to get over him so you decided to text a guy from one of your classes and asked if he wanted to hang out. he of course said yes so now you were in your dorm putting on your best dress to hopefully forget about art.

you truly felt so good about yourself and were excited to hang out with someone that wasnt patrick or art.

the date had gone shockingly well. the two of you had a lot in common and were laughing practically the entire time. still, a part of you ached. you felt yourself thinking back to art but tried to snap out of it as soon as you could.

he had offered to walk you back to your dorm which you kindly accepted. walking through the courtyard as the moon shined down you couldn’t help but wish it was art you were walking with. but you weren’t, you had to stop thinking like this.

“thank you for tonight, i had a lot of fun” you stop, looking up at him.

“yeah of course, im just glad i got the opportunity to take such a gorgeous girl out” he replys with a smile.

a blush creeps up on your face as he slowly starts to lean in. cupping your face with his hand, noses slightly touching.

“hey!” a voice you recognize all too well is shouting from behind you. oh my god.

stepping back from the boy you look to see art standing there. a flood of embarrassment washes over you.

“do you have a problem?” the guy asks putting his hand around your waist to pull you in.

“yeah i do get your hands off my girl!” art comes storming up pulling you away from him.

“you two are dating?” the guy steps back, clearly confused.

“no!”

“yes!”

you and art shout at the same time. looking at him with the most confused look on your face.

“it looks like you two have some things to sort out. i’ll see you in class y/n” he states with a sad smile and walks away.

“what the fuck is your problem?!?” you yell, turning back to face art.

“what is my problem? you’re the one who ditched me to go make out with some random guy!” he yelled back.

“why are you so mad?!”

“im not mad! i just think theres better people you could be kissing” he confesses.

“oh and who would that be?” you ask, angrily getting closer to him.

“me” he whispers.

“what?” every thought you had was now thrown out the window.

“i want you to kiss me” he confesses, stepping closer to you.

“but im just your…best friend” you whisper, feeling yourself get nervous under his gaze.

“y/n i think youre the love of my life”

his hands come up to cup your face.

“so can i please kiss you” he asks, desperation written all over his face.

without saying a word you smash your lips onto his.

[prentissluvr]

cariño — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x gn!bau!reader ➖⟢ genre : hurt/comfort, fluff ➖⟢ cw : car crash, mentions of blood and injuries, concussion, pet names (honey, sweetheart, cariño, baby), swearing, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K ➖⟢ listen to : cariño by the marías summary : you get injured while chasing after an unsub, and luke is there to take care of you.

also i think i was subconsciously inspired by one of my fav luke fics concussed at the end lol so check that one out, too!!

adrenaline pumps through your veins the way it always does during a car chase. this one is entirely chaotic as you weave the large black suv through other innocent cars, trying to keep up with the unsub. luke is in the passenger's seat, feeding you updates and directions from garcia as you step on the gas.

“left up ahead!” luke instructs, and your hands grip the wheel tight as you yank it to the side last minute to avoid hitting traffic. the tires squeal, but you make the turn and find yourself on an open road, houses and office buildings quickly fading into trees. you can see the unsub’s car just as it rounds a corner in front of you, and you increase your speed without the danger of hitting a civilian’s car. for a moment, you’re glad because this makes your capture easier, then that exact thought spikes confusion and worry in your mind.

“why the hell’d he turn here?” you question through gritted teeth, “it would be harder for us to get to him if he kept on the busier roads.”

“shit,” luke curses in agreement, “garcia, what’s past the corner we’re about to round?”

there’s a moment of silence as you continue speeding down the road. “nothing!” comes penelope’s voice through luke’s phone.

“nothing?” he repeats to confirm.

“no, nothing, is there supposed to be something?” garcia asks, worry quickly seeping into her tone.

“we need to slow down,” luke dictates as you’re already easing up on the gas and preparing to step on the brakes. but the speed of the car makes almost no difference as you round the corner, eyes peeled and body tensed to react quickly to anything the unsub might throw your way. maybe he’s stopped the car in attempts to surprise you into breaking or swerving dangerously, likely waiting with a gun in hand to try and shoot you down.

what you don’t expect, what none of you could have expected at all, is the new car that comes barelling into the road, hidden by a driveway to the left, right after the curve.

luke shouts your name in warning, and with a glimpse of the dark grey vehicle in the corner of your eye, you slam back on the gas and swerve further left in hopes that the car catch the tail end of the suv and send the it spinning down the road, rather than t-bone you and send you off the side of the road.

you’re not quick enough, just about no one could be. the grey car was ready for you, and it hits the driver’s side with a sickening crunch before running you right off the road. the airbags inflate almost right on impact and the car lurches to a halt when it bends to the will of a tall, thick tree.

it happens beyond fast, all of it a blur of sharp pain and the mixed voices of luke’s exclaimations and penelope’s worried voice calling your names until there’s nothing at all.

—

when luke wakes, he can still hear penelope’s voice. it takes a long, groggy and painful moment for it to come into focus. he groans as he forces his eyes open.

“luke! luke, oh my god! are you there? can you hear me? luke, answer me, please,” her voice is completely panicked, and oddly far away. luke realizes his phone must have fallen to the ground in the crash. then he remembers there’s been a crash.

“garcia?” he croaks out, trying to sit up from where he’s awoken against the door to turn his pained neck, because the most important thing he remembers then is that you were driving.

“luke! thank god. oh my god. there’s an ambulance on the way. luke, are you okay? i can’t hear you well and where’s y/n? are they okay?” garcia is practically begging for good news as she rambles out questions to him.

“i’m fine,” he calls to her, lying, “concussion, probably. i’m checking on y/n right now.” he’s trying to sound calm for her sake, but he’s silently panicking because he hasn’t heard a sound from your side of the car. you probably took the brunt of the hit, too. he’s terrified of what he’ll see when he finally can get a decent look at you.

there’s blood dripping down your face, reflecting the sunlight seeping in through the broken car windows as it seeps past your closed eyelids. you’re knocked out cold, far colder than he was, and your head slumps against the deflated airbag on the steering wheel. you’re facing him, and he thinks that seeing you like this is his worst nightmare. but his head is starting to clear up, probably only momentarily, and though his whole body aches, he can tell that nothing’s broken. with ample effort, he reaches over to you, calling your name softly, then urgently as he presses his fingers to your pulse point. when he feels the weak throb of blood pumping through your veins, he heaves a sigh of relief.

“they’re alive,” he calls to garcia, “still knocked out,” he explains, the strain in his voice evident. “i need to focus on them, okay garcia? have you called emily?”

“i patched her in while you were still out, she’s on the way with jj and spence. do you promise you’re okay?” she’s still talking like she’s barely breathing.

“garcia, i need you to breathe while i try to wake them up, okay?” it’s taking all of luke’s control to stay calm for garcia as he struggles to be closer to you. he checks for breathing, then for any obvious injuries other than your head. then, he’s stroking the side of your face, so gentle as he calls out your name.

“okay, okay, i can do that,” comes garcia’s muffled voice, but luke’s already practically tuned her out. all he’s worried about is you, the way your face looks calm now, even covered in blood, and the way it’ll inevitably twist in pain when you wake. he keeps calling your name, but there’s no response. he’s too afraid to move you for fear of making any unseen injuries worse.

“garcia, how long for the ambulence?” he calls, panic beginning to seep into his voice.

“it’s three minutes out,” she responds, and if he weren’t so preoccupied with you, he’d be able to picture the fear in her face, the severe furrow of her eyebrows, maybe tears on her cheeks as she prays you’ll be okay. but all he sees is the way you’re stuck in your seat, trapped between the front of the car that hit you, its driver long gone by now, and the front dashboard that’s been pushed forward by the strength of the tree and collision.

the way he says your name is like the pleading of a desperate prayer. his shaky hand is still on the side of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“c’mon, honey. you gotta wake up.”

with that comes the first sign of life outside of your shallow breaths and weak heartbeat. your brows furrow slightly and a quiet groan escapes the back of your throat.

“hey, hey. that’s it, cariño, c’mon. can you hear me?” he begs. he gets another pained whimper and slight flutter of your eyelids, but your eyes still don’t open. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. you’re alright. wake up, y/n. come on, you got this.”

when your eyes finally flit open, everything’s blurry. you blink once, twice, as you try to focus on the voice that you think might be calling your name. it’s familiar, but sounds far away. then you groan and your face contorts in pain. everything hurts, bad. 

“don’t try to move, okay?” those are the first words you catch and can put the meaning together, “you’re alright, the ambulence will be here soon. cariño, can you hear me?”

you try to say yes, but all you can get out is a strangled, “hmm.” luke. you want to say his name as his face comes into focus and you register his gentle hand on your face. the soft brush of his thumb and the gentle sound of his voice are comforting, even as the pain grows with every waking moment.

“that’s good, you’re doing so good,” he reassures. he hates the way your cheek and forehead are shoved uncomfortably against the steering wheel, so as carefully as he can, he maneuvers his other hand to cup your head so you can rest against him instead of the hard, unorgiving surface of the wheel. your face pinches in pain when he does so, but you relax a little once your cheek settles against the soft skin of his palm.

“there you go, that’s a little better, huh? can you see me?”

this time your hum is a little more intelligible as a clear, “mhmm.” you try to keep your eyes and senses focused on luke and his pretty, worried face, but it’s difficult when the pain is so ever present, digging into your ribs and hips and chest and legs and god, your head is pounding, spinning, stabbing, throbbing in pain. luke wants to cry himself when he feels your tears mix with your blood on his hands.

“shhh, you’re gonna be okay. i know it hurts, but the ambulance is almost here, baby,” his words are comforting, and you don’t want him to stop, but it only gets worse.

“luke,” you groan, unable to say much else to express how much pain you’re in and how much you need him to keep saying sweet things and calling you pretty names.

“yeah, i know, i know. ‘m right here, i got you. we’re gonna get you fixed up so soon. just stay with me, okay? ambulance’s almost here.”

“okay,” you agree breathily, but your eyes want to close and try to shut the pain out.

“no, no, stay awake, honey. i need you to stay awake, okay?” he repeats. “you hear that? that’s the ambulance, it’s almost here,” he assures you. sure enough, if you focus, you can hear the sirens as they get closer.

“okay. ‘m awake,” you mumble, pinching your eyebrows together in concentration and squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment before focusing your eyes back on luke’s concerned face.

“that’s good, there you go. don’t worry about anything else, i got you. you stay awake, and i’ll take care of the rest, alright?” his gaze leaves you for just a moment as the ambulance pulls up and the emts run out of the vehicle to help.

“yeah,” you respond, and he can feel your jaw clenching against his palm every time you hold back a little cry of pain. he hates it because it’s often, because even now, you’re acting strong for the sake of someone else.

then there’s a paramedic opening the door to the passengers side, requesting for him to get out and to the ambulance.

“not until you get them out,” luke protests, not even bothering to look away from you, “i’m staying with them.”

“sir, i’m sorry, but we need you to get out so we can reach them. that door isn’t going to open until we can move the other car, and we need to stabilize your friend as soon as possible,” the medic explains. luke holds back a curse and clenches his jaw in anger because he knows he needs to leave you, but would rather do anything but that.

“cariño, i have to get out so the medics can help you, but i’ll be back with you the second i can, okay?” he explains to you gently, already slipping his hands away from your head with all the care in the world.

you whine in protest, and though what he’s saying makes sense, you don’t want him to be away from you for even a moment.

“i know. i’m so sorry, but i’ll be right back, okay honey?” his heart is practically breaking as he pulls away from you and stumbles out of the car with the help of a medic. within seconds, another medic has crawled into the car, speaking comfortingly as she assesses the situation up close. and while you appreciate her gentleness, it’s not nearly as comforting as having luke. it’s a task, but the other medic gets luke to sit down on the side of the road a few feet away before climbing into the car from the back seat to help stabilize your neck and get you sitting upright in your seat.

luke wants to throw something or cry, or maybe both, when he hears your pained sounds coming from the car. more than anything, he wants to be near you to hold your hand, but he knows there’s not enough room for him and the medics to do their jobs.

when there’s nothing left for them to do until they can move you, they allow luke to climb back into the car and hold your hand from the back seat after checking him for severe injuries.

“hey, there. i’m back, sweetheart, just like i promised,” he says as he reaches over the console to curl his fingers around yours.

“mhmm,” you hum in relief, unable to really speak with the brace around your neck.

only moments later, more emergency vehicles arrive, including a black suv that luke knows to contain emily, jj, and spencer.

“we’ll be able to get you out so soon, now. and emily, jj, and spence are here to help, too,” luke tells you, hoping to bring you a bit of good news. in your current state, he doesn’t expect you to answer aloud, but he smiles a bit when you squeeze his hand.

—

at the hospital, hours later, luke sits in your dark room, holding your hand and resting his head against your forearm. it was practically hell to him, being made to rest in a hospital bed himself for an hour or two before they let him sit in your room instead. his concussion is mild, much more so than yours. you’re sleeping soundly, a little frown on your face that luke both wishes would go away and can’t help but find it oddly adorable. matt reported to him that you woke up once before, dazed and confused from your injury before falling back asleep.

the darkness of your room helps him, but his head still pounds dully as he wishes you’d wake up so he can say something to you, so he can hear your voice and maybe feel just a little bit less worried about you.

with his head down, he doesn’t see your eyes drift slowly open, but he feels the twitch of your fingers inside his own hand. immediately, he raises his head to check on you, and his gaze softens infinitely when he sees you’re awake.

“hey,” he whispers, “how are you feeling?” 

you take in a raspy breath before speaking, “um… i’m okay, i think. my head hurts,” you pout. “what… what happened?” the nurses had warned that you might suffer from some temporary retrograde amnesia.

“we were in a car crash,” honey, he wants to add.

you inhale sharply, “oh. are you okay?” you sound so worried and sweet that luke wants to soothe you with a kiss to your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere you’d let him. he settles for squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“i’m very okay,” he reassures, happily glossing over the fact that his head hurts, too. “that’s why i’m here, to take care of you, because you have a bad concussion.”

“oh,” you repeat, and from the way you’re talking and the tone of your voice, luke concludes that you’re still clearly affected by the concussion, “is everyone else okay? we’re on a case, right?”

“yeah, we’re on a case,” he has to hold back from the pet names again, “and everyone’s okay, just a little worried about you.”

your brow furrows at that, and he thinks your eyes grow a little shiny from tears. “don’t wan’ anybody to worry about me,” you fuss.

“oh, sweetheart,” it slips out so easy and natural that he can’t hold it back, “we just want to be sure that you’re okay,” he explains, so soft and sweet, “but since you’ll be just fine, we won’t worry too much, okay?”

“okay,” you sigh. the pout stays stuck to your lips, but you don’t protest anymore and he thinks tears are avoidable, now.

“i’m gonna grab a doctor to check on you,” luke tells you as he begins to stand and let his hand slip away from yours. your hand tightens around his and the tears spring right back into your eyes.

“don’t go,” you whine all sweet and simple.

“i promise i’ll be right back, but i need to get a doctor to make sure everything’s alright, okay?”

you shake your head, then squeeze your eyes shut in pain. that action sends a few tears out and rolling down the sides of your face. when your eyes open, a few more drops spill out as your breathing grows a little heavy and panicked.

luke settles right back down at your side and squeezes your hand with renewed urgency, “okay, okay. i got it, i’m here.” he brings his other hand to the side of your face, ever so gentle to avoid hurting you as he wipes at your tears, “i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” 

he sighs, but his face softens when you relax into his touch. “will you tell me when it’s okay for me to get a doctor? i promise it’ll only take a second, and it’ll help me not to worry about you,” he adds.

this makes your expression turn conflicted. it’s plain to him that you’re mulling over the options carefully in that pretty little head of yours.

after long consideration, you relent, “okay. but you can’t be gone long, please.”

“i won’t, i promise. i’ll be right back, okay?”

“okay,” you agree, but your voice is so sad that luke would rather do anything than leave your side. your fingers chase after his as he gets up, even when your muscles are tired, pained, and weak.

luke flags down a nurse, who gets a doctor to show up within a few minutes. she comes and confirms that your status is the same as before, all you need is rest and to be extra careful goin forward. you sigh in relief when she says that you should be discharged tomorrow or the day after, and you’re cleared to fly soon after that as long as you’re continually resting. your memory from around the time before the crash might remain spotty, but should clear up at least a little with time and proper care.

“luke,” you mumble once the doctor’s gone.

“yeah? can i get you something? water?” he asks, all caring and concerned.

“no. well, water would be nice in a minute, but luke,” you implore, “i jus’ really like you, and i wish that you’d kiss me. i’m pretty sure i’ve wished that for a while. but i definitely wish it now.”

those words nearly knock the breath out of his lungs, but he has to recompose himself quickly to deal with the fact that you’re only saying so because you’re severely concussed.

“i also wish you were my boyfriend,” you continue.

“i really like you, too,” he says, beginning gentle and truthful to ease into the fact that he can’t kiss you right now.

“so you’ll kiss me?” you slur hopefully. he sighs because he knows his answer probably won’t come across well in your current state.

“i will if that’s what you still want when your head clears up a little more, okay?” he concedes. he means it, too. he really would like to kiss you.

“but not now?” you sound so disappointed that luke is having trouble holding back. your eyes are shiny again and he wants to kiss the tears away.

“i’m sorry, but not yet.” the pronounced pout on your lips does not help his case.

“do you not want to?” you ask helplessly, and there’s tears slipping down your face again.

“oh, hey, don’t cry. i do, i promise i do, but i can’t right now,” he explains without making any headway in calming you down. you don’t seem to believe him.

he stands to lean over you and lay both of his hands against your face to wipe the tears gently awake. from the pinch of your brows and tightness of your lips, he thinks you’re probably crying from the pain, too. he shushes you softly as he presses a whisper of a kiss to your forehead when he can’t hold back from doing so anymore.

“it’s okay. don’t cry,” he mumbles into the bandage wrapped around your head. for good measure, he kisses the skin of your forehead again, since the first one seemed to calm you down significantly. it appears that the contact of his lips to your skin, regardless of whether it was on your own lips or not, was enough to sedate and please you, because the tears have stopped and there’s a little smile on your face when he looks.

“can you hug me, too?” you ask sweetly.

“of course i can,” he confirms as he wraps his arms around you, as careful and soft as possible. 

he holds you until your hand drops from his shoulder and you say plainly, “i’m tired.” he moves away slightly, brushing his thumb sweetly under your eye before he settles back down on the chair.

“alright. why don’t you go to sleep, then? i’ll be here when you wake up, cariño.”

your smile turns a little dopey at that word. “cariño,” you slur out. “i hope you’ll kiss me then, cariño.” with that, you send his heart into a flutter as your eyes drift closed and your breathing evens out.

he whispers, “i will, cariño, i will.”

[chukys-mouthguard]

surprised nobody wrote anything about cowboy rempe at the stampede. he looked 🙃. would love a written concept on bumping into him there and maybe he spills a drink on you but you end up getting dragged away and he catches up to you later on in the night and you end up dancing and maybe he even wins u a goofy prize playing ring toss or a corny game.🤠

step right up

1.7k words

pairing: matt rempe x female reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

note: i didn’t not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes 🫶🏼

Spinning around the dance floor, you grabbed a hold of your cowboy hat, holding it tight to your head as you swayed along to the familiar line dancing song. Trying your best to pick up the steps from your friend as she was the expert of the group, always prepared to break out any line dance she can at the drop of a hat.

Throwing your head back laughing you opted for doing your own thing, moving to the music as you sipped your drink. You had forgotten just how fun the Stampede could be; drinks, live music, fair food and games. It was the highlight of the summer.

“Oh shit-”

As you’d done one too many spins you found yourself crashing into a taller boy, towering over you as his chest was smacking you in the face. Your drink spilling all over your shorts, thank god they were black denim and it wasn’t too noticeable.

“I am so sorry, oh my gosh. Are you okay?”

You smiled up at him, laughing as you wiped your hand on your shorts, drying it as best you could though it would do nothing for the stickiness that would remain.

“I’m okay, honest. I’m the clutz not paying attention to where I’m spinning. Are you okay?”

Looking up at him you’d not noticed before how handsome he was. His black denim jacket just tight enough to show off his build, paired with a black t-shirt and blue jeans then topped off with a cream colored cowboy hat. He had a mustache that you’d found fitting on him, though you normally weren’t a fan. Perhaps it just looked good with his choice of outfit for the night.

“Me? Yeah, I’m great, no complaints. Um, sorry about your drink, and your clothes.”

You shrugged it off, little did he know you’d not paid for the drink so you didn’t mind. As the boy went to offer you a replacement your friends were pulling you off into the crowd as a familiar song began playing.

Waving him goodbye he softly smiled, mentally punching himself for not being quicker to speak and get your name. As he watched your figure fade into the crowd he sighed, hoping that somehow he’d cross your path again.

“Matt, dude, you good?”

Ty appeared at the boy's side, offering him a beer as he tried to pinpoint what his friend was looking at. Not seeing anything but a sea of people he gave up, now standing in front of Matt to try and get his attention.

“Sorry, um, yeah. I’m good.”

Matt made a point to keep his eye on you, hoping he’d have another chance to make up for his clumsiness. To get your name and drink order, perhaps even your number. But as he saw you and your friends heading for the door, he knew that window of opportunity was closing.

“Ty, let’s head out, yeah?”

Ty didn’t bother questioning Matt, assuming he’d grown tired of the bar they were at and wanted to make the rounds. Matt’s strides were swift as he maneuvered through the crowd of fairgoers, Ty having to rush to keep up. Unsure as to why Matt was in such a hurry, with it only being eight o’clock and the fairgrounds open until at least one in the morning.

Suddenly Matt came to a halt, Ty finally catching up to him as he followed Matt’s eyes. Seeing you and your friends crowded around a carnival game that surely was rigged. The objective? Knock down the milk bottles without them falling off the pedestal, practically impossible.

“Ohhh, I see. You’ve got your eyes on a girl huh?”

Matt smiled, slightly embarrassed as he tried to shrug off his friend’s comment. Watching you point out a stuffed animal elephant holding a peanut that you so desperately wanted. The only way to win that prize was to be absolutely perfect in the game, but with several drinks in your system, Matt could tell by your first throw you weren’t leaving a winner.

“I spilled my drink on her Ty, I wanted to try and repay her, but she left the bar before I could.”

“Soooo you’re stalking her now to buy her a ‘sorry I’m a tall lanky clutz’ drink?”

Matt shot Ty a glare at his comments, leaning against a nearby building as he continued watching your failed attempts at winning your desired prize.

“Not stalking Ty, simply a man after something he wants. And I hate to say, I want her number. She’s beautiful.”

Ty flicked the brim of Matt’s cowboy hat, rolling his eyes as he found a spot against the wall to reluctantly join him. “Okay lover boy, so what’s your master plan to get her number? Star at her from afar all night and hope she notices your eyes burning a hole in the back of her head?”

You’d handed another ten dollars to the worker, getting another three chances at the prize you’d been listing over. A smile on Matt’s face as he watched your friends giving you a pep talk, laughing at how hard you were working for this prize. Though he admired your persistence for the plush that surely wasn’t worth the money.

“Well, that’s thirty bucks down the drain. I need another drink!”

Matt watched as you and your friends made your way across the path to a new bar, finding a place at the counter to order a round of drinks. Once the game had been available and reset, he walked up to the counter to take his chances. Ty rolled his eyes with a groan as he joined Matt at the booth, praying that he’d somehow get lucky and win so that the boys could get back to drinking.

“I do not come to the Stampede for carnival games dude, and you’re twenty-two years old by the way. Trying to win an stuffed animal elephant for a girl…who if I had to guess-”

Ty glanced back at you and your friends tossing back shots at the bar, turning back to Matt as he studied the baseballs to find the perfect one to throw.

“She’s definitely at least twenty-one, maybe if we are lucky she is older and can get you to act your age for once.”

“Newsflash Ty, she was just playing this same exact game so shut your goddamn mouth for five minutes so I can concentrate.”

Matt took a deep breath, stretching his arm a bit as if he was getting ready to pitch the final game of the World Series. Ty just shaking his head, praying that no one passing by was catching a glimpse at how embarrassing this scenario was becoming.

“Fuck!”

Matt’s first throw not even close to the tower of milk bottles, a soft chuckle coming from Ty as he tried not to add to his friend’s frustration. Simply giving him some halfhearted words of encouragement as Matt picked up his next baseball.

As you finished your second drink at the bar, you glanced out at the crowd passing by, a tall figure catching your eye at the booth of the game you’d just thrown thirty dollars at. Only for you to realize it was the culprit who had spilled your drink at the previous bar, mainly since he was the tallest man at Stampede and was too hot not to notice.

You watched as he handed over another bill to the worker as he was handed three more baseballs, his friend clearly fed up with having to watch the taller boy failing continuously at the game. Chuckling to yourself you’d ordered another round of drinks for your friends, keeping an eye on the two boys wondering how long they’d keep at it before calling it quits.

The next ten or so attempts continued similarly to the first, only getting slightly better as Matt had managed to knock over a maximum of two of the three milk bottles, though they’d not stayed on the table as was the point of the game. Ty had grown restless as he watched Matt reach in his pocket for another ten dollar bill, patting him on the shoulder as he decided to head over to the bar you were occupying and grab a drink.

“Hey! Is he having any luck over there?”

You smiled at Ty as he shook his head, throwing a shot back before he leaned against the bar to see Matt still trying his darndest to win you a prize.

“Well he’s doing it all for you, you know? He’s dropped like almost fifty bucks all to make up for your ten dollar drink he spilled on you back at the other bar.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Matt, seeing him hang his head as he’d thrown away another ten dollars in failed attempts. Needing to put a stop to things before he dropped a hundred dollars trying to win you a no more than fifteen dollar stuffed animal that you did not need in the slightest.

“Hey, cowboy.”

Matt turned to see you now next to him, a smile on his face as you were the last person he expected to see at his side.

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

“Isn’t it obvious, trying my luck at becoming an MLB pitcher.”

You laughed at his sarcasm, seeing a ten dollar bill in between his fingers and quickly reaching for it. Tucking it in the breast pocket of his jean jacket, leaving him with a confused look on his face.

“While I appreciate you embarrassing yourself at this carnival game that is surely rigged just to repay me for a drink…did you ever think of just buying me a drink?”

Matt scratched his head as he’d realized that would’ve been the logical thing to do, despite Ty telling him several times it had only gotten through to him coming from you.

“I mean, that would’ve been the more obvious route to take. But, I wanted to stand out I guess? Be different than just another guy offering you a drink?”

Nodding your head you smiled up at him, his smirk causing you to blush but luckily your cowboy hat hid your cheeks from him.

“And how did that go? Wanting to be different and all?”

“Wanting to be different ran me about fifty bucks.”

He awakedly rubbed his hands together, watching as you reached towards his pocket pulling the ten dollar bill from it and flashing it at him between two fingers.

“Well, lucky for you the drink I like will only cost you less than ten.”

[generalsmemories]

CONGRATS ON GETTING 1K FOLLOWERS!!!! For the event may i request fluff scenario 5 with fluff sentence 6 for jing yuan? :3

Love your writing and hope you’re having a wonderful day/night!!

Tranquility

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts: simple scenario centered around kisses + "you know you're stuck with me right?" "thank god i am" and "you're so warm" "i hear you, but we really need to get up, love" || 1k event

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, lost of kisses and cuddles

✧ a/n: HE GETS A BREAK FOR ONCE HALLELUJAH. NO HURT/COMFORT, NO ANGST, NO NOTHING. JUST SIMPLE, SIMPLE FLUFF OH HOW I TOOK YOU FOR GRANTED DEAR FLUFF. no plot no hidden agenda this is just pure fluff in a daily life just enjoy the kisses and smooches quite literally

i say this because aside from another 1k drabble within his category, the rest are most likely going the hurt/comfort route. not beta-read again fellas

There's a ticklish sensation by your neck, the feeling effectively rousing you from your slumber. Sleepily blinking your eyes open, you notice the strands of hair by your peripheral vision and feel the arms that are tightly wrapped around your waist. "No wonder it was so ticklish..."

Jing Yuan's face is pressed against your neck with his lips pressed against your shoulder. He's practically glued onto you, legs wrapped around your own to the point you can feel his chest rise up and down.

Turning your head around slightly enables you to catch a glimpse of his sleeping face - the general in deep enough sleep that you're able to wriggle free from his legs and hold to turn around to face him fully. He groans a tiny bit though, immediately reaching out to have you within his grasp once again - burying his face back into your neck instinctively with a groan.

Ah, guess I moved too much.

"Yuanyuan," you murmur, reaching up to brush his bangs aside to press your lips against his forehead. "It's morning."

He doesn't say anything, only responding by rubbing his face on your exposed skin, lips pressing against a particular sensitive spot on your neck which causes you to chuckle. "Stop that, you know it tickles."

"Can't help it," is his muffled reply, voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up. And although he apologizes, he doesn't move away from you, instead he presses closer while slipping his hands underneath your shirt - the action making you flinch from the difference in temperature. "You're so warm."

"I hear you," you snort, brushing aside the strands that covers his ears so that you're able to glide your lips against the shell of it, "But we really need to get up, love."

You hear him let out a low whine, but the tight hold he has on you loosens until you're able to wriggle away from his hold. Before you can push yourself to sit up and get ready for the day, you feel Jing Yuan push a knee between your legs while he heaves himself away from your side to instead hover above you - hands pressing against the sides of your head with a sleepy grin spread across his lips, "Hello there."

You blink, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "Good morning," you merely reply, raising your arms to worm them around his neck to pull him down closer to you - the general ever so pliable in your arms and bending down slightly to accomodate you.

You intially planned to only peck his lips and let go, but the moment you slide your lips against his, Jing Yuan lets his entire weight crash down on you. The sudden action causes you to let out a yelp of surprise, Jing Yuan taking the momentary opening of your mouth to slide his tongue in to tangle with your own. His hand moving from the spot beside your head to instead gently cup your cheek to keep you in place while his free hand rests against your hip, thumb brushing against your exposed skin back and forth.

All while keeping eye contact, the intense gaze making you squirm a bit in his hold - Jing Yuan is well aware of the fact that there's times where you can't hold his gaze long, these delicate moments being one of them. So he uses it to his advantage, you can practically feel the smirk on his lips as he presses himself closer to your body, leaning further in to deepen the kiss.

Well if I can't get him up, I might as well wait until he's gotten his fill.

With that in mind, you close your eyes to enjoy the moment and avoid his gaze at the same time, digits traveling from his neck to instead tangle themselves against his locks.

A few more minutes passes by, and you eventually find it difficult to breathe - pulling on Jing Yuan's strands to signal your need to get some air back into your lungs. The sudden pull making your lover emit a low noise from his throat, but he eventually lets your (now) swollen lips go, pressing a tender kiss at the corner before he raises himself back above you with lips equally as swollen and a red hue dusting his cheeks.

"You know you're stuck with me, right?"

You huff, still a bit breathless but able to push him away from you so that you can finally sit up, Jing Yuan making himself comfortable on your lap. "Really now, I had no idea," you joke back, swirling your head around to loosen the muscles.

You can practically sense the pout before it even forms on his lips, the general inching closer to you as a silent request for you indulge him. So before it fully forms, you quickly lean in to peck his lips - backing away immediately after to avoid a repeat of the minutes before, "I know I'm stuck with you, and I'm quite thankful that I am actually."

"Now get up, any later than this and Qingzu is going to bombard my phone with messages asking for your presence."

[wonwayne]

whatever you say ☁️ park jongseong

pairing : bf!jay x fem!reader genre : tooth-rotting fluff warnings : none! word count : 0.85k

a/n : i don't really know what this is. but it's cute. (just HAD to write on this thought [creds to @atrirose] because husband material jay !!)

home. nothing felt better than coming back from an achingly long work day to the smell of you. closing the door softly behind him, jay let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. comfort always seemed to creep up on him like this, with subtle reminders in the air that you would always be there for him, ready to—

“help me build the titanic?”

you beamed up at your boyfriend, legs crossed on the living room carpet, encircled by seemingly infinite lego pieces in red, white, yellow, and black.

not quite what jay was expecting to come home to. but he approached your little recreation ground anyway, lunging carefully towards the box packaging. “another 2000+ piece lego set?”

“9000!”

“oh—”

“9090, to be exact.”

jay nodded, kneeling down by the carpet to match your eye level. “... that’s really—”

“wait no, 9092! sorry i keep correcting myself, it’s just that i forgot to add the jack and rose minifigures.” you pointed proudly at the thumb-sized people. “once i’m done with the ship, i’m going to have them at the bow like that iconic scene. and then maybe every few days i’ll move them to the floor and put rose on a little door.” you held lego jack up to your boyfriend’s face. “you look just like him.”

he glanced to the side before mirroring its boxy grin. “do i?” you nodded vigorously. “well that’s very flattering, y/n, but i should say,” and he looked emphatically at the heap of legos strewn between him and you, “you’re making it very hard for me to hug you. any closer, and i’m bound to step on a lego here.”

your expression morphed instantly from disquiet to delight. god, you could never get over how adorable he was when he said the sweetest things in the sternest voice. “i’m sorry!” you burst out, sweeping the pieces to the side and jumping into your boyfriend’s arms. “i’ll be right at the door to hug you next time.”

“thank you, love,” he murmured as he kissed the top of your head, “keep working, i’ll make dinner and help build as soon as i can.”

even more adorable, you thought, for calling your lego-building “work.”

tragically, jay found you breaking your promise just a few evenings following. anticipating your pretty face peeking out of the doorway, he practically raced out of the apartment elevator. but instead of anything to look for, he was met by faint screams and hearty laughs — your laugh among them, and panic consumed him. who would she be laughing with in OUR apartment besides me? why the screams?? what if she’s—

bursting the door open, he was yet again unable to make sense of… you. you, belting taylor swift at the top of your lungs, dappled with rainbow light under the mini disco ball you’d set up in the far corner, mid-cartwheel with a wireless mic in one hand, dangerously close to crashing into both your partners in crime, jake and sunghoon.

they steered clear of you swiftly before freezing at the sight of a narrow-eyed jay.

“uh, y/n,” sunghoon began (poor boy), “i think—”

“—BUT THIS LOVE IS BRAVE AND WIIIIIIIILLLLLDDDDDD,” you persisted, thoroughly unaware of your boyfriend’s presence, and nearly assaulting the sofa as you landed from the cartwheel.

it took you till the end of the song’s bridge to notice your friends’ conspicuous silence. following their uneasy gaze, you saw jay maintaining the hardest poker face you’d ever seen him wear before.

but forget the “oh hi”s, skip the “let me explain”s — you glided over to where jay stood by the entrance and, offering the mic to him, sang quietly: “and i neverrrrrr saw you comiiiiiiiiiiing.” you sounded impossibly good.

“you should’ve,” he said, voice low, and with the hint of a pout, “seen me coming.” at a louder volume, he addressed the boys while his arms wrapped around your waist, “why do i have to come home to these two losers making a mess on a respectable thursday evening?”

jake opened his mouth to protest, but jay’s attention was already back to you. “you invited them?” he asked casually, pulling you closer in.

“i was getting bored without you,” and it was your time to pout, “had to unwind somehow.” you conveniently left out the detail that you had organized the whole “mess” in the house, and that the other two had played absolutely no part.

“with karaoke at the ungodly hour?”

“well, only because you arrived at an ungodly hour.”

he paused for a moment, then conceded, “right. of course, love, i’m sorry.”

you missed jake’s priceless expression as he made eye contact with jay across the room.

“P A R T N E R  P R I V I L E G E,” he mouthed as aggressively as he could.

jay scoffed, and buried his chin deeper into the crook of your neck.

the only privilege, he would tell the boys later, was that of him having you in his life.

[noproofread]

Diamond to the Sun

"I held a diamond to the sun to count the moments on account of the way you smile for me"

HELLOO I WROTE AND IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF LOL. writing is hard but it's been a minute since i've written for sanji so here we are :D

Sanji x gn!reader

Fluff. Mild angst. Praise lol. Pet names :).Reader is emotionally unavailable, or so they think. Sanji is determined to break down their walls. Sanji's just a regular loverboy <3

tag list: @vangowithit @fanaticsnail @dakingsu-blog

word count: 1,018

masterlist here

He loved watching you.

Admiring you.

Every time you smiled he felt his heart jump. He felt weightless at the sound of your laugh. You knew this well, and you had made it clear to him that you didn’t do “love.” You didn’t do relationships. You didn’t believe in it. Sanji didn’t care. He would gladly pine for you even if you didn’t return his affections. You would wake up to breakfast in bed, little notes with beautiful words about you.

“I don’t need to see the sun as long as you’re here.”

“The world is in slow motion whenever you smile for me.”

You would be lying if you didn’t feel flattered. Sanji practically worshiped the ground you walked on. It was cute. You had never experienced someone devote so much love to you. You had grown accustomed to people using you to get their rocks off and leave you. You never had any good experiences so you gave up on everything. You closed yourself off for good. And yet here he was. The blond, charismatic, flirty chef dropping everything to be at your beck and call.

You sat out on the deck, admiring the way the waves crashed against the ship. Droplets of salt water spraying onto your skin, cooling you down as the sun beamed at its highest point. You felt him looking at you. You smiled to yourself, unsure if you smiled because you liked having his attention or because it was cute to see him so powerless in front of you.

“Sanji” you called out to him. He sprinted in your direction as quickly as he could. “Yes, my diamond?” Diamond. His nickname for you. You smiled at him. “Can you get me some lemonade with lots of ice? I feel like I’m cooking in this heat.” You said with a wink. The cook blushed bright red and nodded before heading off to the kitchen as if nothing else mattered but your request.

When he returned with your beverage he stood there for a moment, watching you drink it. Seeing how your lips wrapped around the straw he so carefully chose for you. How your eyes closed as you savored the sweet citrusy flavors that he curated for you. How pretty you looked under the bright light of the sun. How your skin glistened with sweat and droplets of water. He was completely infatuated. You picked up a cube of ice with the straw and maneuvered it into your mouth to chew on it.

“Sanji, are you okay?” You asked after a few moments. He suddenly kneeled down in front of you. Looking up at you as if you were his entire world. It was sweet. You were surprisingly nervous. He had never really looked at you like that. Nobody had ever looked at you like that. It was an odd feeling. You had gotten so used to feeling mostly nothing, at least when it came to people showing interest in you. They never cared so why should you? But Sanji was different. His eyes were different.

“I just want you to know how much I adore you, my diamond. You may not believe in love but I have enough love for the both of us.” “Sanji-” “I would do anything for you. If the gods are real I would gladly let them go for you. I would fight them for you. I would die for you.” He continued. You knelt down to his level, a small smile on your face as you moved some of his hair out of the way.

"You sweet sweet thing.” You kissed his cheek. He blushed. He grabbed your hand, using it to caress his own cheek. Feeling how soft your fingers felt against his skin. You gasped, feeling your own heart flutter at the intimate action. You smiled affectionately. You did care for him. “Thank you for your lovely words, Sanji. I appreciate them more than you know. I just-” You hesitated for a moment. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He stood, taking your hands in the process to help you up. You met his eyes. His kind, doting eyes. If anyone was going to break your walls, it would be him.

“I know it will take a long time, but I will always be here.” He grinned. You barely noticed his thumb tracing circles on your hand. Sanji looked into your eyes. It felt like he saw you. Like he really saw you. As if he already knew your past, your traumas, your fears, your regrets. You felt almost vulnerable in his gaze. He only knew what you had told him. And yet it was like he had known you forever. Something you were unfamiliar with. An exciting feeling. You laughed softly. “Thank you, Sanji. My blonde prince. Thank you for being patient with me.” You felt his hands tense at the word “prince.” Sanji’s heart pounded against his chest. He didn’t want this moment to end. This perfect moment, with him holding your hands as the sun illuminated both of you. You let go first, his hands dropping to his sides as you picked up the glass of lemonade. Only a couple of ice cubes left as the rest had melted.

“Would you like more ice, my diamond?” Sanji asked, his gaze had shifted to a more flirtatious state. You chuckled. There he is. There’s the Sanji you are used to.

“I would love more ice.” You responded, handing him the glass.

He bowed as if he was your butler. A bow that said “your wish is my command.” And he walked to the kitchen. You laughed breathlessly, watching him light up at the sound. You glanced back at the blue sea, biting your lip at the lingering memory of the tender moment you shared with the chef. Moments later, he reappeared with your glass. You took it from him and stared at the ice for a second. Before he could leave you reached out for his hand.

“Would you want to stay and keep me company?”

“I’d want nothing more.”

[houseofanticipation]

You've always been an outdoor person. You're a camper, a hiker, an explorer. You feel at home in this forest; miles upon miles of trees in every direction, the only hints of civilization a handful of campgrounds and the odd ranger station. Years of experience have made you comfortable here, in the cool, quiet air.

Maybe too comfortable.

It's late morning when you first notice someone behind you on the trail. You don't see them when you look back. You just their footsteps, the sound of cracking twigs and crunching leaves. You expect them to pass you, as you're taking a pretty leisurely pace, but the footsteps always seem to be about 20 feet behind you. You start to get annoyed. This person's thousand-pound feet are ruining your nice, quiet walk. You step to the side of the trail and wait the person to pass.

And so do they.

That makes you nervous. You start walking again, and they walk with you. You stop, they stop. You begin to think you might be in trouble. Careful to keep the noise at you front, you take the folded trail map out of your pocket and begin to scan it. There's a ranger station not far ahead; if you can just make it that far, you might be safe.

You break into a brisk walk, and your pursuer keeps pace. This trail was made intentionally with a lot bends in it, so each hiker or group of hikers could feel like the wilderness was their own, without running into many other people. It means your pursuer can stay relatively close to you without ever entering your line of sight. You're close now, you recognize the little footbridge over this creek, so you break into a run, skidding on mud and dried leaves as you make a mad dash for safety. The footsteps crash through the forest behind you, and you're too afraid to turn around but you're sure they're gaining on you. You see the ranger station up ahead, a little log cabin with a green door, and you practically fly up the front steps, through the unlocked door. You slam it shut behind you and throw the deadbolt, sliding down the door in a mess of exhaustion and nerves.

The ranger station consists of a single room, with a ladder up to a small loft space where the ranger sleeps. You were hoping to find help, but the ranger isn't here at the moment. That's okay. Just the locked door on its own makes you feel a lot better. You listen intently for any sound outside, but all you hear is birdsong, and wind through the trees.

Then someone is trying to turn the door handle. The sound makes you jump, but you try to stay brave. You're still safe. They can't get in.

You hear a man's voice on the other side of the door. "Hello?"

You summon your courage and call back. "Leave me alone! What do you want from me?"

The voice sounds surprised. "I...I don't want anything from you ma'am. It's just...well, you're kind of in my office." You get to your hands and knees and crawl to the front window, just peeking over the sill. Outside is a flustered looking man in a ranger uniform. Relief floods your body. You let him in.

"Thank god," he says. "I'm not supposed to leave the station unlocked, I thought at first some teenagers had gotten in here and...hey, what's wrong?" He's seen the look in your eyes, the way you're still panting, the state of your hair. You explain to him about the footsteps, the chase through the woods, how you hid here for safety. His eyes grow wider with your every word. "Shit, that's terrible. Drink some water, get yourself hydrated while I check around out there." He offers you his canteen. You begin to tell him you have your own water, but he waves you off. "No, no, I can't let you use your own rations. I've got extra water reserves here just for unprepared hikers, I won't run out. Please."

You take the canteen and drink, sitting on a hard folding chair while the ranger goes back outside. Now that you think about it, you're actually incredibly thirsty. You finish off the ranger's canteen, and feel a little bad about it, but he seemed insistent that you should have it.

You're exhausted. It had already been a long day of hiking, and then you went and spent the rest of your energy running through the forest. You were probably overreacting, you think as your eyelids begin to droop. Maybe it was just an illusion, your own footsteps somehow echoed back to you by the forest. In the warmth and safety of the ranger station, the fear you felt before seems almost silly.

Your limbs feel sluggish and disconnected. Your head seems to be full of rocks. Your eyelids fall closed, and you're out before you hit the floor.

You come to little by little, slowly becoming aware of several odd sensation at once. The first thing you notice is that you feel good. Incredible, actually. You're having trouble wrapping your head around why exactly—you're having trouble putting thoughts together, connecting raw sensation to ideas or meanings. But you like how you're feeling, you know that much.

There's more to it though, because you also hurt, which you don't like. There's something rough pressing up against your back, and your arms and legs are sore. You're cold, too, colder than you've been in a long time, and a cool wind stings your bare skin. Why is your skin bare?

You open your eyes. You're in a forest clearing, a place you recognize. It's a popular camping spot, secluded but not far from the trail. You're on a tree—tied to it, you realize, that's the rough thing on your back, and the reason you're so sore. Coils of rope around your wrists are pulling your arms up and behind you, like you're giving the tree a backwards hug. Something similar is happening with your legs, and a rope across your throat is keeping you from pointing your head down.

You are naked.

The ranger is there, leaning into you, and for a confused moment you think he's trying to untie you, but then the whole picture suddenly falls into place. He is raping you, slowly and indulgently, moaning openly as he slides cock up and down, in and out of your pussy. Fear jolts you awake, your fight-or-flight response taking control, but you you have no way to fight and now means of fleeing. You begin to scream, thrashing against your bonds, but they're solid and secure. You're not going anywhere.

"Oh good you're...oh!...awake," says the ranger, still inside you. "I have to tell you, I thought you looked cute when I decided to follow you, but I had no idea you'd be this...o...oh, fuck...this good. I think you've got the tightest little cunt I've ever fucked."

Just because that pleasurable feeling isn't wanted anymore doesn't mean it's going away. With every thrust of the ranger's cock, the feeling builds inside you, threatening to spill over. "Please," you whimper. You can't cum, not here, not to this. "Please stop, let me go."

The ranger grins and looks at you. He gives you an extra deep thrust and you moan in spite of yourself, your muscles contracting and your pussy tightening around him. "Why would I...oh, fuck that's good...why would I stop when you're clearly enjoying this just as much as I am?"

Tears stream down your face. You can't control it now. Waves of tension wash your body, each one making you seize tighter, arching your back, straining your bonds. As the final wave crashes over you the ranger gives one last moan and buries his face in your neck, his cum seeming to warm your shivering body from the inside. You go limp, wobbly, all the tension draining from your body with the cum that spills forth as he withdraws his cock.

The ranger buckles up his pants and leans over, hands on his knees, panting. "Fuck, girl. I can't just keep that cunt to myself. People need to know!" He goes behind you somewhere, and you can hear leaves rustle. When he comes back he holds a stake in his hand: a signpost, with a printed metal sign attached. He shows it to you:

Elk Trail Cum Dump

The park thanks you for your patronage. Feel free to use this receptacle as you see fit.

"I had this made up a few years back." Says the ranger as he hammers it into the ground in front of you. "We've had a handful of cum dumps, but I'll tell you what, you're definitely the best." He looks you up and down, then steps forward and sticks his middle and index fingers up inside you. You tighten reflexively, and he whistles. "Fuuuck me that's good! Alright, I'll probably be back tonight with some friends. New cum dump always attracts some attention. Stay tight, honey." He gives your cheek a little slap and walks away.

It hurts for a while. The bark against your skin. The ropes digging into you. Your shoulders, supporting your weight for so long. But after your sixth hour or so it all just fades into a general, dispassionate numbness.

People walk by sometimes. You hear them on the trail and call out for help. They come, usually but they don't help. A pair of young women laugh and take selfies with their fingers in your pussy. And old man rapes you breathlessly while is wife rolls her eyes and laughs good-naturedly. A middle aged woman with a big backpack says she's going to help you out, which turns out to mean producing a vibrator and giving you the most mind-melting, earth-shattering orgasm of your life, before saying a polite goodbye and leaving you tied up.

When your bladder gets full you just piss right there. It's not a bad way to do it, really; with your legs pulled back like this, you manage not to get much on you. You're a little more concerned about what happens when you need to shit, but you suppose there's a chance you can hold it until you die of hunger or thirst.

A man with a bushy beard gives you a long look before leaving and coming back with a long branch, one end whittled barkless and smooth. He inserts the smooth end into your pussy and sets the other end on the ground, held up only by your natural grip. He instructs you to bounce up and down on it while he masturbates. It's a little thick for you, but it actually feels pretty good, and you try to put on a good show for him as thanks. He lets you keep in there when he leaves, as a way to pass the hours.

You fall asleep just as the sun is setting. You find if you rest your head against the tree just so, you can relax without it falling forward and choking you on the rope across your neck. When you wake again it's full night, and someone has built a little fire in a circle of stones. A dozen or so men are lounging around, laughing, chatting, drinking beers out of a cooler. And raping you of course, but you barely even notice that now. All it really means to you is that someone took away your nice stick.

The ranger is among the men, though he's out of uniform. He raises a beer to you when he sees you're awake. "Welcome back to the land of the living! My buddies here are loving that little pussy of yours."

"You shouldn't have open flames out here," you croak, your throat dry. "You could start a...a...ah! Forest fire." Your sentence is interrupted when the man currently inside you does a strange sort of twisting thing you don't quite understand, and the jolt of pleasure takes you by surprise.

"Ah, fuck you," says the ranger. "Which of us here is the park ranger and which is the cum dump? I know my way around a fire."

"If you say so," you say as the man adds another load of cum to your collection.

He's drunk, you can tell. They're all a little drunk, their words a little slurred, their movements a little wobbly. As the next guy slides into you, you nod at the bottle in his hand. "Hey, let me get a little of that." He holds the bottle up to your lips obligingly, and while most of it splashes down your chin and across your breasts, you get a few good swigs in. It's a party, after all.

When everyone's had their turn on you the boys decide to play a game called "Hide the Herring," which turns out to consist of everyone scattering to find objects, and then taking turns trying to fit them inside you, the winner being the one with the largest object that manages to fit completely inside you. You get several different rocks, some sticks, big chunk of frozen together ice cubes, One guy tries to fit a full, unopened bottle of beer in you, fat end first. It stretches you almost to your limit but he manages, with a bit of clitoral stimulation, to get it all the way up to the neck. He says, "if you can hold on to it for ten seconds you can drink the whole thing," and you agree gamely to give it a try. He takes his hand away and the whole crowd counts down as you clench around this bottle, harder to do when you can't close your legs. You can feel it slipping, little by little, but when the count reaches zero it's still there, and you let it slip out into its owner's waiting hands. He cracks it open and holds it to your mouth, and you close your lips around it. You don't want to lost any like last time. The group is so impressed by the way you open your throat and let it drain into you that they give you another, and another after that. By the end of your fourth beer you're definitely feeling the alcohol, and the last of the fear and misery of the situation falls away like the last remnants of a lizard's skin. Being the Elk Trail Cum Dump, you guess, isn't so bad after all.

The winner of Hide the Herring ends up being a full ten pack of hot dogs. The entrant opens it up, uses two of the hot dogs to pack the wrapping into your pussy, and then spends about fifteen minutes cutting the other eight into pieces and popping them, one at a time, into your asshole. There's a lot of arguing about whether using your ass is allowed, or if it still counts as one object once the package is open, but it doesn't matter to you. Being filled this full feels amazing, and you manage to convince one of the guys to fuck you with your ass stuffed like this. Chunks of hot dog pop out of your ass, two and three at a time as you cum, and he leaves you dripping, feeling warm and gooey.

You get fucked a few more times as they set up camp for the night. Everyone's cum at least once by now, so the loads are getting a little thin, but that's okay. You feel as though you are melting into the tree, becoming a part of it. When you wake tomorrow, you imagine your arms and legs will have grown into its bark, your hair becoming leaves, your heart and lungs and mind becoming wood. Nothing more than a handful of tight wet holes for hikers and campers to enjoy. With this image glowing in your mind's eye, you drift off into a contented sleep.