#I hope this is okay and will start things off! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarletwinterxx · 2 days ago

Text

drowning in the deepest of truths, I think I'm falling for you - choi seungcheol scenario

hellooo ~ so it's been a while... few things to address😅 i saw svt recently and i can confirm i cried hahah and second thing, a certain mr. seungcheol choi bias wrecked me so we're here. say thank u to him🤣

THIS ISTG TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE. if you've been here for a long time, i think it's obvious i love a good friends-to-lovers storyline. i wanna give myself a pat on the back for writing this😅hope you like it too!!

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve been friends with Seungcheol for as long as you can remember. He’s the dependable guy, the one who shows up at your door with takeout when you’re upset, drives you to late-night emergencies, and threatens to "have a word" with anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s also the same guy who will call you at 2 AM to complain about Jeonghan stealing his food or Seungkwan roasting his playlist choices.

It’s all very platonic.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

But here’s the thing—platonic friends don’t always behave the way Seungcheol does with you.

Like how he always walks closest to the road when you’re together. You thought he did that for everyone until Jeonghan once teased him about being your personal bodyguard. “What, I’m just making sure she’s safe,” he’d grumbled, cheeks faintly red. You’d laughed it off, but now every time he switches sides to keep you away from traffic, your brain unhelpfully replays Jeonghan’s teasing.

Then there’s his car. His precious car. The one you’ve seen him ban people from for spilling a drink or even breathing too close to the upholstery. Yet, somehow, you’re the only one allowed to eat fries in it without getting scolded. “Because you’re neat,” he’d explained once, though you distinctly remember dropping ketchup on the seat that one time. He cleaned it up himself and still handed you another fry.

And don’t even get started on the hand thing. He always has a hand on your back—guiding you through crowds, steadying you when you wobble on uneven ground, or just casually resting it there when you’re walking side by side.

It’s warm, reassuring, and totally not something friends think about when they’re lying in bed at night.

You tried asking him about it once. “You’re very handsy, you know.”

“Would you rather I let you trip and fall?” he’d retorted with a smirk.

“Not what I meant, but okay.”

The problem is, Seungcheol seems completely unaffected by all this. He treats you like you’re just another one of his friends, albeit one he’s particularly protective of. You’ve heard him swear up and down to Jeonghan and Seungkwan that you’re just his friend. Jeonghan, of course, doesn’t believe him.

“Right, because you hold all your ‘friends’ like they’re a national treasure,” Jeonghan had said, earning himself a withering glare.

“Shut up, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol had snapped, but his ears were noticeably pink.

Then there was Seungkwan, who once asked, “Why don’t you just marry her already? Save us all the suspense.”

“We’re friends,” Seungcheol had groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

It’s honestly infuriating. Not because you want him to admit something else (okay, maybe you do, but only a little), but because it leaves you constantly second-guessing everything.

Like when he shows up to your apartment with soup because you mentioned a scratchy throat, or when he lingers outside your building after dropping you off just to make sure you’re inside safely.

Or—your personal favorite—when he softens. That big, tough guy act he puts on with everyone else melts the second he looks at you.

His voice gets gentler, his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he’s suddenly the kind of guy who brushes hair out of your face without a second thought.

It’s maddening.

And apparently, you’re not the only one who thinks so.

“I don’t get it,” Jeonghan says one day, while you’re all sitting at a café. “Why are you two still dancing around each other? Just confess already.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “What?! There’s nothing to confess!”

“Exactly,” Seungcheol agrees, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Sure. And I’m the president.”

“Jeonghan, drop it,” Seungcheol warns.

“Fine, fine.” Jeonghan smirks but doesn’t look convinced.

By the time you’re walking home together later, the conversation keeps replaying in your head. Seungcheol is quiet beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you say, bumping your shoulder against his.

He glances at you, his expression unreadable. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“...Nothing important.”

You don’t push, but as his hand finds its familiar place on your back when you cross the street, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan was onto something.

You knew it was going to be a long day when your boss handed you that stack of papers at 4 PM. By the time you finally wrapped up, the office was practically empty, the night sky spilling across the windows.

A quick glance at your phone confirmed what you already dreaded—you’d missed the last bus. Groaning, you stuffed your things into your bag, resigning yourself to the long walk home.

It wasn’t that bad. Just… cold, dark, and slightly creepy. You’d be fine.

Totally fine.

But when you pushed through the lobby doors and stepped outside, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was.

Choi Seungcheol, leaning casually against his car, arms crossed over his chest like he’d been waiting all night. His head tilted up as soon as he heard the door open, and when he saw you, that familiar, infuriatingly soft smile spread across his face.

“Finally,” he said, pushing off the car. “I thought you were going to sleep in there.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed, “What… what are you doing here?”

“Picking you up,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world

“I didn’t ask you to.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t need to.”

You frowned, confused. “How did you even know I was still here?”

“Your light was on when I drove by earlier.”

“You drove by?”

He had the audacity to look sheepish. “I figured you’d miss the bus. And I didn’t want you walking home alone.”

Your heart did an annoying little flip. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Sure you can,” he said, completely unfazed. “But humor me, okay? Get in the car.”

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to argue, but the cold wind nipping at your cheeks made the decision for you. “Fine,” you muttered, walking past him to the passenger door.

“Good choice,” he said, smirking as he opened the door for you.

The car was warm, smelling faintly of his cologne, and as you settled into the seat, you couldn’t help but notice the little things—how he’d adjusted the seat warmer on your side or how there was a blanket folded neatly in the backseat.

He climbed in and started the engine, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Hungry?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You barely eat when you’re working late,” he said. “We can grab something on the way home.”

You stared at him, baffled. “Do you do this for all your friends?”

He smirked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Do what?”

“Show up unannounced, wait in the cold, and then offer to feed them.”

“Only the ones who miss the last bus.”

Your lips twitched despite yourself. “So just me, then?”

“Just you,” he admitted, glancing at you again with a small smile.

The ride home was quiet, the hum of the engine and the city lights passing by making everything feel oddly intimate. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you turned to him, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Thanks for… this,” you said awkwardly, gesturing vaguely.

“Anytime,” he said easily.

As you reached for the door handle, he stopped you. “Hey.”

You turned back, and his expression had softened, the playful smirk replaced with something quieter, more sincere.

“Text me next time, okay? So I don’t have to guess.”

Your chest tightened, and you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”

You stepped out of the car, his eyes on you the entire time, and as you walked to your building, you couldn’t help but smile.

He wasn’t just a friend. Not to you, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t just a friend to him either.

It was supposed to be a quiet night for Seungcheol. He’d gone out with some friends, had a couple of drinks, and was planning to head home early. But somehow, he ended up back at Jeonghan’s place with Seungkwan sitting cross-legged on the couch, both of them looking far too smug for his liking.

They were up to something. They were always up to something.

“So,” Jeonghan started, drawing out the word like he had all the time in the world, “guess who’s out on a date right now?”

Seungcheol barely glanced up from his phone. “I don’t know. Who?”

“You,” Seungkwan deadpanned, then snorted. “Kidding. It’s her.”

Seungcheol’s fingers froze mid-scroll. “What?”

“You know who,” Jeonghan said, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s on a date,” Seungkwan added, like he was explaining something to a toddler.

Seungcheol’s brain short-circuited for a second. “Wait. What?”

“Why are you so shocked?” Jeonghan leaned back, looking like the cat that got the cream. “She’s a grown woman. She deserves to have a little fun.”

“She’s—she’s on a date?” Seungcheol repeated, his voice louder this time

“Yes, and he’s so handsome,” Seungkwan said dramatically, clasping his hands together like he was narrating a fairytale. “Tall, charming, great hair—”

“Wait a minute. You set her up?” Seungcheol cut in, his voice sharp

“Of course,” Jeonghan said breezily. “You weren’t making a move, so we figured someone else should.”

“I’m not—” Seungcheol started, then stopped, his jaw clenching. “She doesn’t need you meddling in her life.”

“She seemed fine with it,” Jeonghan said, grinning. “Actually, she looked pretty excited.”

That sentence hit Seungcheol like a punch to the gut. You? Excited to go on a date with some random guy? The thought made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t want to think about.

“I don’t get why you care so much,” Seungkwan said, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, she’s just your friend, right?”

Seungcheol’s head snapped toward him, but he didn’t say anything, his jaw working furiously as he tried to come up with a response.

“Right?” Seungkwan pressed, leaning forward.

Jeonghan smirked. “You do seem awfully worked up for someone who’s ‘just a friend.’”

Seungcheol shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “She is my friend.”

“Hmm,” Jeonghan hummed, unconvinced. “Then why do you look like you’re about to track down this guy and challenge him to a duel?”

“I’m not—” Seungcheol groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m just… concerned.”

“About what?” Seungkwan asked innocently.

“About her,” Seungcheol snapped. “What if he’s some creep? What if he says something to upset her? What if—”

“Oh my God,” Jeonghan interrupted, laughing. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Seungcheol said through gritted teeth.

“Then why are you gripping the couch like it insulted your ancestors?” Seungkwan asked, gesturing to Seungcheol’s white-knuckled hands.

“I’m just protective,” he argued weakly.

“Right. Protective,” Jeonghan said, rolling his eyes. “Because that totally explains the vein popping out of your forehead right now.”

Seungcheol groaned again, sinking back into the couch. He hated how transparent he was, especially to these two.

“Look,” Jeonghan said, leaning forward, his tone suddenly serious. “If you don’t want her going on dates with other guys, then maybe you should finally admit how you feel.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even try it,” Seungkwan cut in, holding up a hand. “We all know. She’s the only person you drop everything for. The only one you talk to with that stupid soft voice. You treat her like she’s your entire world, but you’re too stubborn to say it.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Because they were right. They were absolutely, infuriatingly right.

“Okay, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I feel something. But what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

Jeonghan snorted. “Are you kidding me? She’s just as bad as you. She talks about you all the time, and don’t even get me started on the way she looks at you. You’re both idiots.”

Seungkwan nodded solemnly. “Big, dumb idiots.”

Seungcheol stared at them, his mind racing. Maybe it was time to stop being an idiot.

“Where’s this date happening?” he asked suddenly.

Jeonghan and Seungkwan exchanged a glance, their smirks returning.

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, feigning innocence.

Seungcheol stood, grabbing his jacket. “Because I’m about to fix this.”

“Finally,” Seungkwan muttered, shaking his head.

Jeonghan grinned. “Go get her, tiger.”

And with that, Seungcheol stormed out, determined to set things right—even if it meant crashing your date.

Meanwhile you were having a perfectly peaceful evening. The kind where the air was crisp, the stars were starting to peek out, and the banana milk you’d picked up from the convenience store was hitting just right. Strolling through your neighborhood, you took another long sip, savoring the sweetness.

And then, like something out of a drama, Seungcheol’s sleek black car zipped past you.

You blinked, nearly choking on your drink.

Was that…? No, it couldn’t be. But then the brake lights lit up, and the car slowed before making a sharp U-turn.

You stopped walking, half-expecting someone else to step out of the car. But, of course, it was Seungcheol.

He parked haphazardly by the curb and got out, looking a little disheveled, which was unusual for him. His jacket was slightly askew, and his hair looked like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.

“Hey,” he said, jogging up to you, his voice slightly breathless.

“Uh, hi?” you said, thoroughly confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered, crossing his arms but not quite meeting your eyes.

“I’m just walking,” you replied, holding up your banana milk as if to prove your innocence. “What about you?”

He hesitated for a second too long. “I was… driving.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Driving? Around here?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was… in the area.”

“In the area?” you repeated, unconvinced.

“Yes,” he said firmly, but his eyes flickered to the drink in your hand, betraying his nerves.

You decided not to press him. Seungcheol acting weird wasn’t exactly new, but something about him tonight seemed different. Like he was on edge. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense, and he kept shifting from foot to foot like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

He froze, then sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m just… stressed,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Work?” you guessed.

“Something like that,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

You frowned, feeling a pang of concern. Without thinking, you held out your banana milk to him, your fingers curling around the straw as you offered it up. “Here. This always makes me feel better.”

He blinked at you, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“Drink it,” you said, blinking up at him innocently. “It’ll help.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening in that way that always made your heart skip a beat. “You’re sharing your banana milk with me?”

“Don’t make it weird,” you mumbled, cheeks warming.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he took the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours. He took a hesitant sip, his eyes never leaving yours, and for a moment, the world felt strangely quiet.

“Not bad,” he said, handing it back to you.

“See? Instant stress relief,” you said lightly, though your chest felt tight for reasons you didn’t want to examine too closely.

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made you feel uncharacteristically shy. Finally, he reached out, ruffling your hair like he used to do when you were younger. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, brushing his hand away. “Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

His smile faltered just slightly, something unspoken passing between you before he cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s just a short walk—”

“Let me drive you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t fight him on it. You weren’t sure why, but Seungcheol’s strange mood tugged at something deep inside you.

As you climbed into his car and he pulled onto the road, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his stress than he was letting on. And from the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened every time he glanced at you, you had a feeling he was thinking the exact same thing.

A few days later since that night. You're still wondering why Seungcheol was acting weird but you brush it off, thinking maybe he's just stressed because of work.

Now you're somewhere unfamiliar.

You sighed in frustration, staring at the unfamiliar street signs around you.

You were definitely lost.

The errand you thought would take twenty minutes had somehow turned into an hour-long disaster. To make matters worse, your phone signal had cut out just when you’d tried to pull up directions.

After wandering aimlessly for what felt like forever, your phone finally regained some service, and you immediately dialed Jeonghan’s number. He was your go-to for emergencies like this—always on his phone and annoyingly calm in situations where you were about ready to cry.

“Hello?” Jeonghan’s familiar voice answered on the first ring

“Jeonghan!” you practically wailed. “I’m lost.”

“Lost?” he echoed, sounding more amused than concerned. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned, scanning the street for anything remotely familiar. “I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, and then my phone lost signal, and now I have no idea where I am.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, clearly suppressing a laugh. “Relax. Describe your surroundings.”

You rattled off a description of the nearby buildings and street signs, and Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, I think I know where you are. Just stay put, and I’ll send someone to get you.”

“Wait—someone? Who?”

But before he could answer, the line disconnected.

Fifteen minutes later, as you sat on a bench scrolling through your now-working phone, your screen lit up with an incoming call from Seungcheol.

You hesitated for a second before answering. “Hello?”

“What the hell?” was the first thing out of his mouth, his voice a mix of irritation and concern.

“What?” you asked, confused

“Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded

You blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re lost, right? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I—” You paused, feeling slightly guilty. “I figured you’d be busy with work. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” he repeated incredulously. “You think calling me when you’re lost is a bother?”

“I mean… kind of?” you said hesitantly. “You’re always so busy, and I didn’t want to distract you.”

There was a brief pause, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, almost hurt. “You’re never a bother, you know that, right?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling small. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything important.”

“You’re important,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Your heart did a funny little flip at his words, but you tried to shake it off. “Jeonghan said he’d send someone to get me,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, and that someone is me,” Seungcheol said, his voice firm. “I’m on my way.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said, and then the line went dead.

True to his word, Seungcheol’s car pulled up exactly ten minutes later. He got out and strode toward you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and relief.

“You okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any signs of distress.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said sheepishly. “Sorry for making you come all the way out here.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “Just… next time, call me first, okay? No matter what. I don’t care how busy I am.”

You nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Okay. I will.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to flick your forehead gently. “Idiot,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his voice. “You scared me.”

You smiled up at him, clutching your phone tightly. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Always.”

And with that, he opened the car door for you, muttering something about making sure you had a proper map app installed while you slid into the passenger seat, feeling safer than you’d felt all day.

The car was quiet save for the low hum of the engine as Seungcheol drove. You sat in the passenger seat, sneaking glances at him every now and then. His brows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. You could tell he was still annoyed—though more at himself than at you—but the silence was starting to get to you.

“Are you really mad?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper

He didn’t answer right away, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. You shifted in your seat, feeling a small pang of guilt.

“Cheol?” you tried again, a little louder this time

Finally, he glanced at you, just for a second, and that’s when he saw it—the faint pout on your lips, your eyes wide and filled with worry.

Whatever lingering annoyance he felt melted away instantly.

How could he ever stay mad at you?

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.

In that fleeting moment, something clicked. He’d always known he cared about you, but this was different.

This was deeper.

The way his chest ached at the thought of you being lost, the way he couldn’t focus on anything else until he knew you were safe—it all made sense now.

He was in deep. Really, truly in deep.

But he kept that realization buried, locking it away for now. Because what if you didn’t feel the same? What if he ruined what you already had?

So instead of saying what was really on his mind, he shook his head and let out a small sigh. “No, I’m not mad,” he said softly, his voice losing all the sharpness from earlier.

“Really?” you asked, your pout disappearing as a hopeful smile crept onto your face.

He glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Really. Just… call me next time, okay? No matter what.”

“Okay,” you said quickly, nodding.

“Good,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. But the corner of his mouth quirked up, betraying his amusement at how eager you were to ease his worries.

And as you settled back into your seat, sipping the banana milk you’d insisted on bringing with you, Seungcheol kept driving, silently grappling with the fact that you had him wrapped around your finger—and you didn’t even know it.

It’s not something you consciously think about, but Seungcheol is the first person you instinctively search for in every situation.

Whether it’s at a gathering, in a crowded room, or even during simple moments like deciding where to sit, your eyes always find him first. And it’s always easy to spot him—because, without fail, he leaves a space open beside him, like he’s silently saving it just for you.

He never says anything about it, but you’ve come to notice how it’s always you in the passenger seat of his car, you who gets the last fry from his plate, and you who he lets get away with things no one else can.

One day, after an especially long week at work, you found yourself riding home with him again. The car was quiet, save for the soft hum of the radio, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

“Cheol,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” he responded, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the road.

“Do you think…” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you think I’m taking advantage of you being such a good friend?”

He frowned slightly, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “What?”

“I mean…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain yourself. “You do so much for me. I feel like I’m always leaning on you, and maybe—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, pulling the car to a gentle stop at a red light. He turned to look at you, his expression soft but serious. “You’re not taking advantage of me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he reached over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear in that way that always made your breath catch.

“I wouldn’t do any of it if I didn’t want to,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. Then, with a small smile, he added, “Take advantage of me all you want.”

You blinked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, it felt like the world outside the car had faded away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble.

There was something in the way he said it, something in his gaze that made your chest tighten. Like he wasn’t just saying you could rely on him, but something deeper—something more.

But you didn’t push it, didn’t ask him to elaborate.

Instead, you smiled softly, feeling your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Cheol.”

He nodded, turning back to the road as the light turned green, but his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, as if he was trying to shake off whatever had just passed between you.

And though neither of you said it out loud, his words lingered in the air between you, unspoken but clear.

Take advantage of me all you want.

It sounded an awful lot like he was saying, I’m yours.

The music was loud, the kind that vibrated through your chest and made regular conversation impossible.

You were at yet another one of Seungkwan’s chaotic gatherings, where everyone was laughing, shouting, and dancing all at once. You were trying to tell Seungcheol something, but no matter how loud you spoke, your voice barely reached him over the noise.

Finally, with a little huff of frustration, you stepped closer to him. So close that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He raised an eyebrow at you, amused but curious, as if to ask, What’s up?

Without thinking, you stood on your tiptoes, your hand lightly gripping his arm for balance. Leaning in, you brought your lips close to his ear and whispered the words you’d been trying to say.

His reaction was immediate. You felt his hands gently rest on your waist, steadying you like it was second nature. His touch was warm, firm, and grounding in the chaos of the room.

“What?” he asked, turning his head slightly so his lips were near your ear now, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You repeated yourself, barely able to focus with how close the two of you were. You could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne.

When you pulled back just enough to look at him, you caught the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slid one of his hands down from your waist and took your hand in his.

Your breath hitched when his fingers laced with yours, his grip firm but gentle, like he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, as if to silently say, I hear you now.

The moment stretched between you, the noise of the room fading into the background as you stared up at him. His eyes were warm, his smile soft, and for a second, you felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room.

“Better?” he asked, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, your cheeks warm as you managed a small smile. “Better.”

He didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night.

As the night wore on, you and Seungcheol gravitated toward each other like magnets. Even in the chaos of the party, you never strayed far, and he made no effort to hide how closely he kept you by his side.

At one point, you found yourself standing in front of him, tucked neatly into the protective circle of his arms. His broad frame loomed behind you, shielding your much smaller figure from the crowd. It was a natural thing, the way his arms rested lightly around your waist, his hands occasionally brushing against your sides.

You weren’t sure when you had become so glued to each other, but you didn’t mind. You felt safe there, cocooned in his warmth, the noise of the party fading into the background as you leaned into his steady presence.

Seungcheol leaned down slightly, his chin nearly brushing the top of your head as he murmured, “You okay?”

You turned your head slightly to glance back at him, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah, I’m good.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, and he gave your waist a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure himself. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I think I’m fine as long as I stay right here,” you replied without thinking, and you felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter behind you.

“Yeah?” he teased, his voice low and warm. “You planning to stick to me all night?”

You shrugged, your cheeks warming. “Maybe.”

His laugh softened, and you felt his arms tighten around you ever so slightly. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter this time, almost like he hadn’t meant for you to hear it.

From the other side of the room, Seungkwan and Jeonghan stood together, sipping their drinks and watching the scene unfold like it was a live drama.

Jeonghan leaned casually against the wall, a smirk dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked between you and Seungcheol. “You seeing this?” he murmured, just loud enough for Seungkwan to hear over the noise.

“Oh, I’m seeing it,” Seungkwan replied, trying his best to keep a straight face but failing miserably. His grin threatened to split his face in two as he watched Seungcheol pull you closer, his arms tightening protectively around you.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “Should we—”

“Don’t even think about it,” Seungkwan interrupted, though he looked like he was barely holding himself back. “You saw the look he gave us earlier. He’ll kill us if we say anything.”

Just then, Seungcheol’s eyes flicked toward them, sharp and warning. It was a look that screamed, Don’t. You. Dare.

Jeonghan, of course, couldn’t resist a bit of mischief. He raised his glass in a mock toast, tilting his head slightly as if to say, Oh, we’ll see about that.

Seungcheol’s glare darkened, and he subtly mouthed, Don’t.

Seungkwan elbowed Jeonghan, barely stifling his laughter. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeonghan whispered back, smirking. “It’s too good not to say something. Look at them. She’s practically in his arms, and he’s acting like she’s the only person in the room.”

“I know, but...” Seungkwan hesitated, glancing back at Seungcheol, who had now fully turned his body to shield you from the crowd. “He’s terrifying when it comes to her.”

“Exactly,” Jeonghan said, his smirk widening. “Which makes this even more fun.”

Before either of them could act on their instincts, Seungcheol shot them another glare—this one so intense that even Jeonghan momentarily reconsidered his life choices.

Seungkwan cleared his throat, straightening up. “Yeah, nope. Not worth it. I like being alive.”

Jeonghan chuckled, but even he backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll let him have his moment. For now.”

But as they watched you and Seungcheol disappear into the night, Jeonghan leaned over to Seungkwan with a glint in his eye. “We’re never letting him live this down, though.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Seungkwan agreed, grinning. “We’re just waiting for the right moment to strike.”

And with that, the two of them shared a conspiratorial laugh, already plotting how they’d tease Seungcheol later—if they lived to tell the tale.

The quiet of the car was a stark contrast to the laughter and energy of the night. It was just the two of you now, the hum of the engine and the soft rush of air outside the windows filling the space between your thoughts.

Seungcheol’s eyes were on the road, his focus steady, but there was something different in the air tonight. It felt like the perfect moment to finally ask the question that had been lingering on your mind.

"Cheol?" you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Mhm?" he replied, glancing at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of your thoughts making your chest tighten just a little. "We're not just friends, are we?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

You had been wondering for a while now, but it felt like the right time to ask.

Seungcheol didn’t immediately respond. The car continued on its path, the sound of the engine filling the space. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was a quiet, almost amused undertone to it.

"Whatever you want me to be, I'll be that," he said simply, his eyes still on the road, but there was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, processing his words. "What does that mean?" you asked, voice quieter now, trying to decipher his meaning.

"It means," he began, "if you want me to be more than a friend, then that’s what I’ll be. If you want me to be something else, I’ll be that too."

You felt your chest tighten, the air between you both thick with unspoken things.

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted, that the line between just friends and something more was now more blurred than ever before.

"Thanks for the ride," you said softly, unable to hold back a small smile.

Seungcheol smiled back, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. "Anytime,".

The boys had decided it was time for a beach day—a full day of sun, sand, and chaos. Naturally, Seungcheol insisted you join, claiming it wouldn’t be the same without you. So here you were, walking down the sandy shore with a tote bag slung over your shoulder while the boys argued over the best spot to set up.

Jeonghan, of course, found the shadiest area and claimed it before anyone could argue, while Seungkwan bickered about who had to blow up the inflatable. Meanwhile, Seungcheol carried your beach chair and umbrella, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up.

When everything was set up, you kicked off your sandals and ran toward the water, the cool waves splashing against your feet. The boys stayed back for a while, caught up in their own antics, until Jeonghan called out to Seungcheol.

“Hey, big guy! You’re really just going to let her wander off alone?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but still got up, his protective instincts kicking in almost immediately. He strolled down the beach after you, arms crossed casually over his chest, his broad shoulders drawing attention from passersby.

You were completely oblivious, laughing as you dipped your toes into the waves. That is, until a couple of guys sidled up to you, grinning and trying to make small talk.

“Hey, you here alone?” one of them asked, his tone far too confident for his own good.

“No,” you replied politely but firmly, already taking a step back.

“Come on, just a little chat—”

“Is there a problem here?”

That voice. Low, firm, and unmistakably Seungcheol’s.

The guys froze, their smiles faltering as they turned to see him standing there. His towering frame, sharp jawline, and intense gaze were enough to make them instantly reconsider their life choices.

“N-no, man, we were just—”

“Leaving,” Seungcheol finished for them, his tone leaving no room for argument.

They didn’t need to be told twice, muttering apologies as they shuffled away.

You turned to Seungcheol, your eyebrows raised. “That wasn’t necessary. I could’ve handled it.”

“I know you could’ve,” he said, his tone softening as he looked at you. “But why should you have to?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “My knight in shining board shorts.”

Seungcheol chuckled, nudging your shoulder gently. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

The two of you made your way back to the group, where Jeonghan and Seungkwan were snickering.

“Cheol scared off some beach bros, didn’t he?” Jeonghan guessed, smirking.

“Didn’t even have to try,” Seungkwan added. “He just exists, and they run for their lives.”

Seungcheol ignored them, guiding you to your chair and handing you a bottle of water. “Drink up,” he said, his hand brushing against yours briefly.

You didn’t miss the way his touch lingered or the way his gaze softened when he looked at you. And while the boys continued to tease him relentlessly, he just sat back with a satisfied smirk, his protective streak in full swing.

By the end of the day, no one even thought about approaching you again—not when Seungcheol made it very clear, without saying a word, that you weren’t alone.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The beach was quieter now, the once-loud waves now lapping gently at the shore. Seungcheol crouched down in front of you, his back turned as he gestured for you to hop on.

“Come on, before the sun sets,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a small grin.

“Why do I have to be the one on your back?” you teased, but you didn’t hesitate to climb on, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands secured your legs.

“Because I’d crush you if it were the other way around,” he shot back, standing effortlessly with you in tow.

He started walking along the shoreline, the sand soft beneath his feet. You leaned your cheek against his, your fingers lightly tapping against his chest as you spoke.

“Did you know that sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart?”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s called a raft. Isn’t that cute?”

“Almost as cute as you randomly spitting out facts,” he said with a chuckle, glancing sideways at you.

You ignored him, continuing your stream of trivia. “Oh! And dolphins have names for each other. Like, they have a specific whistle for every dolphin in their pod.”

“Do they have a whistle for their favorite dolphin?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Obviously,” you said, squishing your cheek harder against his. “If I were a dolphin, you’d have a whistle just for me.”

“I already do,” he murmured, his words so soft that you almost didn’t catch them over the sound of the waves.

You paused for a moment, the warm breeze brushing past the two of you. Then, out of nowhere, you whispered, “I love you.”

Seungcheol froze mid-step, his breath hitching just enough for you to notice. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you, his cheek brushing against yours.

“I was hoping I’d say it first,” he said with a soft laugh, his dimples deepening as he smiled at you.

Your heart swelled at the sight, and you couldn’t help but grin back. “Guess you’re too slow, Cheol.”

“Guess so,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. Then, without putting you down, he turned to face the sunset.

“Say it again,” he said after a moment, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper beneath it.

“I love you,” you said, softer this time, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.

He let out a content sigh, his hands tightening slightly on your legs as if grounding himself in the moment.

“I love you too,” he finally said, his voice carrying all the tenderness he’d been holding back for so long.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, you stayed there, clinging to each other, both knowing you had everything you could ever need right in that moment.

245 notes · View notes

vunblr · 2 days ago

Text

Toy Soldier (part 4)

Bit by bit, torn apart. We never win, but the battle wages on for toy soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Smut. Dark Content: Sexual Assault Wounds (Bucky). Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Canon-Typical Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con (both characters as victims)

Word Count: 6k.

Previous Chapter

Bucky’s arms tightened just slightly around her as she shifted, sensing her weight tilting as though preparing to pull away.

“Don’t,” he murmured, stopping her movement. His forehead still rested against her shoulder, and his words sounded almost muffled. “Just... stay like this a little longer. Please.”

For a moment, she didn’t know what to do or say, but then she felt it, the subtle way he leaned into her like he was holding onto something he needed, like a child with his blanket.

“Okay,” she murmured, softly.

Her hands, which had started to pull back, returned to their place on his shoulders. She let them rest there, feeling the warmth of his body beneath her touch, and stayed still, giving him whatever comfort he was seeking.

He exhaled slowly, a sound that felt almost like a sigh of relief, and his body seemed to relax further.

“It’s been a long time,” he admitted after a moment, so quiet she almost missed it. “Since anything... felt this way.”

She swallowed hard, curling her fingers slightly against his shoulder in a gesture she hoped was reassuring. “What way?”

“Safe,” he murmured. “Less… alone.”

Her chest tightened at his words. “You’re not,” she said softly, with a trembling voice. “Not anymore.”

He shifted slightly, settling his vibranium arm more securely around her waist. The movement was almost instinctive, but it was enough to make her cheeks heat.

For a while, neither of them moved or spoke.

When she finally found her voice, it was soft, almost hesitant. “You know... if you ever need this -anytime- I don’t mind. If it helps, I’m here.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, and his expression was so unguarded, so raw, that it took her breath away. There was an innocence to it, a vulnerability she had never seen before. To be fair, a lot of his expressions were new to her, she had only ever known the Soldat. For a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but instead, he gave a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks, doll.”

Her heart gave an involuntary flutter, but she quickly pushed it aside, managing a tentative smile. “Anytime.”

They stayed like that for a moment longer. He hadn’t fully let her go yet, and his hands still rested lightly against her back. She hesitated, feeling the warm rhythm of his breathing against her neck, before slightly loosening her arms around his shoulders, pulling back a little.

“Would you… maybe want to hang out sometime? There is no pressure or anything. I just thought... maybe-” she started, hesitating when his blue eyes fixed on her, unreadable. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine too,” she quickly added, dropping her arms completely and stepping back, putting some space between them. “Maybe this thing was... just this moment, and now that we’ve talked, you want to move on with your life. And I’d get it if that’s the case. I don’t want to make this uncomfortable for you.”

Her rambling trailed off, and she winced inwardly, wishing she’d been smoother, braver, or both.

“You’re not making it weird,” he said gently, “You did probably better than me if I’d had the balls to ask.”

Her heart stuttered, “Oh.”

He shook his head, pressing his lips together as though weighing his next words. “Maybe I don’t know what hanging out looks like,” he added, a faint hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice. “But... I’d like to try. If you’re okay with that.”

She blinked, and a cozy warmth bloomed in her chest. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, his mouth twitching slightly in almost a smile.

She smiled then. “Okay. Again, no pressure, though. Just... whatever feels right. Whenever.”

“Whenever,” he echoed softly.

-----

That “whenever” turned into something of a routine. Two or three days a week, they’d meet up, or, phone calls filled the space between them. Bucky hated texting -said it was impersonal and frustrating- and she didn’t mind. In fact, she preferred hearing his voice.

Sometimes, they ventured out. Small, simple outings, a walk through the park, a coffee shop tucked into a corner of the city, or just wandering without a plan.

Like today.

The planetarium was her suggestion. She’d been talking about stargazing lately, and when she casually mentioned she’d never been, he found himself agreeing before he even thought it through. He arrived first, scanning the crowd near the entrance, his with his gloved hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

She was standing a few feet away, and the blue summer dress with tiny white polka dots caught his eye. She was distracted by something on her phone, with a small smile tugging at her lips.

He exhaled through his nose, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts before walking toward her. His boots scuffed the pavement as he approached, but she must have sensed him because her head lifted, and her face brightened as she spotted him.

“Hey,” she said, slipping her phone into her bag, smiling. “You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you,” he replied, flickering his gaze briefly to her dress again. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out: “Nice dress.”

She blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before glancing down and brushing her hands over the fabric. “Oh. Thanks. I bought it in a second-hand store, I used to have one before, and…” better not go there. “You look pretty good too.”

The reply caught him off guard. He blinked, and then, almost unconsciously, his lips quirked into a small smile. It wasn’t much, just a fleeting expression, but it lit up his tired blue eyes in a way she hadn’t seen before.

She decided then and there that she wanted to see that brightness in his eyes again.

The hum of chatter and footsteps around them broke his train of thought. The crowd milling around the planetarium was bigger than he anticipated, and the press of people already made him shift uncomfortably. Without thinking, he offered her his arm.

“Come on,” he said quietly.

She glanced at him, a bit surprised by the gesture, but her lips curved into a soft smile as she slipped her hand through his arm. “Almost forgot what a gentlemanly gesture looked like,” she teased lightly.

He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Guess I haven’t forgotten all the old ways,” he replied, with a faint smile. “Some things just stick, I guess.”

She chuckled softly, resting her fingers lightly on his arm as they walked. “I like that,” she admitted, glancing up at him. “Maybe because I’m basically an old lady too.”

He raised a brow, his lips curving slightly. He hesitated, unsure if he should ask, but again, the words came out of his mouth before his brain could stop them. “You are right. I’ve never thought about it... how old are you, grandma?”

Her steps faltered ever so slightly, and her gaze drifted somewhere far away for a fleeting moment before she recovered, forcing a playful smirk. “Oh my, you can’t just ask a lady that.” She let the teasing linger for a second before sighing as if deciding to humor him. “But since you’re being such a gentleman... eighty-eight this year. I think I’ve preserved myself pretty well,” she added, throwing in a wink that felt almost rehearsed. "Mentally, I really lost count... thirty, maybe?"

Bucky blinked, a flicker of guilt tugging at his chest as he noticed the cracks in her playful demeanor. Her lighthearted tone didn’t quite match the faint shadow in her eyes, the way she seemed to deflect rather than engage.

“Sorry, I... shouldn’t have brought it up,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.

She shook her head quickly. “Don’t worry about it. We can’t always walk on eggshells around each other; it would be so tiring...” Her words trailed off for a moment, but then she grinned, and a spark of genuine mischief flickered in her eyes. “I’ll forgive you if you agree to take a picture with me in one of those silly-themed space photo booths.”

He grimaced instinctively at the suggestion, pressing his lips into a reluctant line. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” she replied, “They are adorable, and I always wanted to do something like that with a friend.”

He sighed in resignation. “Fine.”

Her brows shot up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said, averting his gaze as they continued walking. “If it makes you happy, sure.”

----

They walked in a comfortable silence, taking in the various themed sections of the planetarium. The displays were illuminated by soft, bluish lights, with models of planets and spacecraft towering over them. She marveled at the detail, occasionally pointing something out, and he would nod or hum in acknowledgment, his gaze always subtly flicking back to her as she admired the exhibits.

As they approached a rocket replica, he stopped, fixing his gaze on it with an unreadable expression.

“I saw a flying car once,” he said suddenly, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

Her head snapped toward him, and her eyes lightened up with excitement. “Wait, what? A flying car? Where?”

He glanced at her, and the faintest hint of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. “At an expo... Stark’s expo. It was supposed to be a big deal.”

“Stark? As in Tony Stark’s dad? Howard Stark?” she asked, her excitement spilling into her voice.

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “We went with Steve and a couple of girls-”

“So... you took your dates to nerdy conventions?” she teased, playfully nudging his ribs with her elbow, still lightly holding onto his arm.

His ears turned pink at her words, and the faintest hint of embarrassment crossed his features. “Something like that,” he muttered.

“Oh?” she teased further, a grin tugging at her lips. “Charming and smart, surely-oh, look!” she interrupted herself, looking to one of the themed photo booths they passed. Without a second thought, she tugged his arm gently.

He followed her, though his expression betrayed his lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t look so miserable,” she quipped, throwing him a playful glance. “I’ll pay for it. You just put your handsome face in that hole and try to pretend you’re into it.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head, but when they reached the machine, he pulled out some coins and fed them into the slot himself.

“I got it,” he said gruffly.

As they took their places, he turned to her, slightly furrowing his brow. “When does this thing-”

Before he could finish his question, the first flash went off, leaving him momentarily stunned. He squinted and wrinkled his nose at the brightness, instinctively turning forward just as the second flash fired.

By the time the third picture was taken, he managed to focus, smoothing his expression into something neutral. No scowl, no forced effort, just... Bucky.

The booth chimed, signaling the end of the session, and she reached for the printed copies with a grin.

“Oh, these are perfect,” she said, holding them up to inspect.

He leaned over her shoulder to look. The first photo caught them mid-conversation, his face slightly turned toward her as he talked, while she was gazing at him with a soft smile. In the second, her smile was directed at the camera, wide and bright, while he squinted with his nose wrinkled at the flash. The third one that made her pause, a simple shot of them both looking straight at the camera. She was still smiling, and though his expression wasn’t quite a smile, it wasn’t a scowl either. His features were relaxed, and his tired blue eyes were calm. A win.

“Well,” she said, tucking the photos into her bag, “you survived.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Barely.”

“Don’t worry, you did great,” she teased. “I mean, you’re not exactly a natural, but there’s potential.”

He gave her a dry look but didn’t argue, as the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

-----

They continued to walk through the exhibits, and her voice filled the gaps between the growing noise of the crowd. But the further they went, the more people seemed to gather. Conversations overlapped, children darted past, and the sound of footsteps seemed to echo from every direction.

Bucky’s shoulders stiffened, and his gaze started to dart toward every sudden movement. The press of bodies felt too close, the noise too sharp, and a familiar suffocating pressure began to rise in his chest.

“Bucky? Are you-” she began to ask, catching the way his vibranium hand twitched at his side, clenching and unclenching in a rhythm she recognized all too well.

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

But she didn’t miss the tension in his jaw or the way his breathing had started to quicken. “Okay,” she said softly, “but maybe we should head outside for a bit? It’s getting pretty crowded in here.”

He nodded jerkyly, and she gently guided him toward the exit. She kept her pace steady, making sure to stay just slightly ahead of him, carving a path through the throng of people.

By the time they reached the doors, his breathing was ragged, and he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling. The open-air hit them, cooler than inside, but it wasn’t enough. The people lingering outside -the families, the couples, the chatter- felt like too much.

“This way,” she said softly, steering him down a side path. When they passed an alley, he stopped abruptly, leaning against the brick wall as if his legs could no longer hold him. His head dropped, and his hands braced against his thighs, as his breaths came in short, uneven gasps.

Suddenly, his hands clenched into fists as his shoulders began to shake. She promptly crouched down beside him. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe, Buck. I’ve got you.”

He shook his head, and his voice broke. “I can’t- I can’t breathe-” His vibranium hand clenched into a tighter fist, and the metal groaned softly under the pressure. His other hand pressed against his chest as if trying to physically force the panic away.

“You’re safe,” she said gently, lightly resting her hand on his knee. “You’re not there anymore. Just breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

His gaze flicked to her, wild and unfocused, but he tried to mimic her slow and deliberate breaths. It wasn’t immediate, but little by little, the erratic rise and fall of his chest began to even out.

Her hand moved to his, covering his flesh hand first before hesitating and resting against the vibranium one instead. “Feel this,” she murmured, her fingers brushing the cool metal. “This is real. You’re here. With me.”

His jaw tightened, and his eyes squeezed shut as his legs gave out beneath him. Slowly, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the pavement.

Without hesitation, she knelt beside him, and the rough ground dug into her knees, but she didn’t care. She kept her hands on his with a firm grip, whispering soft reassurances. “It’s okay. Just breathe with me.”

His chest heaved as he tried to match her calm, deliberate breaths. The panic still gripped him, sharp and relentless, but her voice and presence cut through the worst of it like a lifeline.

When he finally lifted his head to look at her, his glassy blue eyes were full of guilt and pain. His voice trembled, barely audible. “I’m sorry. I… your polka-”

A whimper broke through his words, his gaze dropping to her dress, now soaked from the puddle she was kneeling in.

“Shhh,” she interrupted, shaking her head firmly. “You don’t need to apologize for this.” Her voice was low, and so achingly gentle that it made his chest tighten. “Everything’s fine, Bucky. It’s just water. It doesn’t matter.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump that refused to go away. “I hate this,” he admitted hoarsely. “Feeling like this... making you-”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, squeezing his hand. “You didn’t make me do anything. I’m here because I want to be. Because I care.”

He looked at her again, taking in the way her dress clung to her knees, the way her hair was slightly disheveled from their hurried escape, the way her eyes held nothing but understanding.

She sighed, and her gaze dropped briefly to where her hands still rested on his, before meeting his eyes again. “Over decades, I had to fix you,” she said softly. “Not as a person. Not as... you. But as a tool. A deadly, efficient weapon. A puppet of carnage under their thumb.”

Her hands squeezed his gently again. “And every time I healed you, every time I put you back together, it felt like I was just handing you over to them all over again. But now...” she briefly paused to steady her slightly trembling voice. “Now, I don’t have to do it because they’re forcing me to. I don’t have to patch you up so they can send you back out to kill or to suffer.”

Her lips quirked into a small, bittersweet smile. “Now, I get to help you as a friend. Because I want to. Because I see you.”

His head turned back toward her; his blue eyes were wide and glassy with unshed tears that he refused to let fall. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.

She reached up, brushing a lock of hair away from his face. “I know it’s hard to accept that, Bucky. I know. But I’m here. And I’ll keep being here, as long as you’ll let me.”

Finally, he exhaled shakily, slightly bowing his head. “I don’t deserve that,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

“You deserve more than you think,” she replied gently, leaning forward just enough to catch his gaze again. “You just don’t see it yet. But I do. And I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

Slowly, she leaned back, giving him space while still keeping her hands resting lightly on his.

He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse as he finally said, “Thank you.”

She smiled softly. “Anytime, Buck.”

----

When the emotional storm had eased, he stood, brushing off his pants with a muted sigh. He still looked shaken, though he seemed to carry himself with that familiar, quiet resolve.

“I’m taking you home,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

She blinked, caught off guard. “I’m fine. I can-”

“Please,” he interrupted. The weight of his gaze silenced any protest she might have had. “Just... let me do this.”

She hesitated but nodded. “Alright.”

As they walked toward the street, she noticed his furtive glances at her dress. His eyes darted to the wet fabric clinging to her knees, then quickly away, as though looking at it too long would somehow make things worse.

When they reached the curb, he raised his hand to hail a cab. She could see the tension still lingering in his shoulders and the way his gaze flickered around their surroundings as though scanning for threats.

When they reached her building, he stepped out first, scanning the area before offering her his hand to help her out of the cab. She took it, lingering her touch just slightly longer than necessary.

“Thank you,” she said softly as they stood in front of her door.

He nodded, stepping back as though preparing to leave. But before he could retreat further, she spoke again.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked.

He hesitated, flexing his hand at his side. “I don’t think it’s a good idea...”

She crossed her arms loosely and leaned against the doorframe, watching him carefully. “Why not?”

He glanced down, as if the words were written somewhere on the pavement. “I just... I don’t want to make things... weird. Or... harder.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, though her eyes betrayed her concern. “Bucky, you’re not going to make anything harder. We’ve been through harder. You’re allowed to have a cup of coffee with a friend.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s late,” he added weakly, like he was searching for excuses, probably mortified by what happened earlier.

“It’s not that late,” she countered. “And you’re still ensuring I’m okay, so... maybe let me do the same for you?”

“Okay,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Just for a little while.”

She smiled, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Make yourself at home, you already know where everything is. I’ll go change”

Bucky stepped hesitantly inside, as though he were intruding, even with her invitation. He stood awkwardly in the entryway for a moment, looking at the familiar details: books stacked on the coffee table, a knit throw draped over the couch, a faintly lavender scent lingering in the air. It was warm, welcoming, and unmistakably hers.

There were a few more plants than the last time he’d been there, their leaves were lush and healthy, catching the soft light of a nearby lamp. His eyes drifted to a basket by the couch, filled with yarn and a half-finished crochet project. She must’ve started something new, though he wasn’t sure what.

A few minutes later, she reappeared in a sweatshirt and leggings. Draped over her arm was another piece of clothing, a pair of grey sweatpants. She held them out toward him without much ceremony.

“Here,” she said casually. “Your jeans got wet too. These aren’t fancy, but they’ll do until yours dry.”

Bucky frowned slightly as he took the pants. They were plain, unassuming, but distinctly... male. A faint crease appeared on his brow as his thoughts began to spiral. Whose sweatpants...?

“Don’t like grey?” she teased, breaking through his train of thought.

He blinked, looking up to meet her eyes. She was watching him with a faint smirk, completely unaware of the questions ricocheting in his head.

“Uh, no, grey’s fine,” he muttered, gripping the sweatpants tighter. He mumbled a quiet “Thanks” before heading toward the bathroom to change.

As he shut the door behind him, his reflection stared back at him in the small mirror above the sink. He could feel the weight of his own thoughts pressing down. Why does she have these? Who left them here? Was it someone she’s seeing?

The idea settled uncomfortably in his chest. It wasn’t as if he had any right to ask, and yet... the questions wouldn’t leave him. He pulled off his damp jeans and slid into the sweatpants. When he returned to the living room, she’d set up a drying rack by the window, and extended her hand toward him to take his jeans and put them there.

“Thanks,” he said again.

She looked over her shoulder and smiled, brushing her hands off as she turned back to him. “No problem. You look good in grey, by the way,” she said with a wink, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Bucky’s lips twitched in the faintest ghost of a smile, but his thoughts remained tangled. He sat down on the edge of the couch again, briefly flicking his gaze to the sweatpants before settling on her.

“Do you want tea, or are you sticking to coffee tonight?” she asked, already heading toward the kitchen.

“Coffee’s fine,” he replied, almost distant.

As she busied herself in the kitchen, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling creeping through his body. It’s none of my business, he reminded himself firmly. She can have whoever she wants here. It doesn’t mean anything.

He rested his elbows on his knees, and his thoughts spiraled as his eyes fixed on the coffee table. The faint sounds of her moving around the kitchen didn’t help, they left him feeling more isolated, as though he were drifting further from solid ground.

With a frustrated sigh, he stood up and made his way to the kitchen. He told himself it was to keep her company, but deep down, he felt like a lost puppy, tailing after her for no reason other than to stave off the weight pressing on his chest.

She didn’t seem to mind. When he appeared in the doorway, she glanced back and offered him a warm smile before turning her attention back to the coffee mugs she was setting out.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, trying to look casual despite the storm brewing inside him. She hummed softly as she worked, relaxed and unhurried.

As she waited for the coffee to finish brewing, she rummaged through her purse and pulled out a small paper envelope with the photos they’d taken at the planetarium’s booth.

A soft laugh escaped her as she flipped through the images, and her gaze lingered on the one where he was squinting and scrunching his nose from the flash. Without hesitation, she walked over to the fridge and stuck it there with a sunflower-shaped magnet.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her, unconsciously tightening his fingers around the fabric of the sweatpants. “What are you doing with that?” he asked, his tone edged with tension.

She glanced at him unbothered. “I love this one,” she answered simply, gesturing to the photo. “So it goes on the fridge. Right where I can see it.”

His jaw worked silently for a moment, a flicker of something he couldn’t name tightening in his chest.

She seemed to pick up on his hesitance, and her smile softened as she walked back toward him, holding out the other two pictures. “Do you want any of these?” she asked.

Bucky hesitated, glancing down at the photos in her hand. One showed her smiling brightly at the camera while he’d been caught mid-sentence, looking confused but oddly endearing. The other was the final shot, where they were both looking straight ahead, her grin wide and radiant, while his expression was almost neutral, but not unpleasant.

He pointed at the last one. “Maybe… that one.”

She handed it to him, brushing his fingers briefly. “Good choice,” she said with a smile, watching as he stared at the photo in his hand.

His thumb brushed absently over the glossy surface of the picture, and the edges crinkled slightly under the pressure of his fingers. He glanced up again, and his gaze fell on the photo she’d stuck on the fridge. He bit his lower lip.

There was a rhythm, a game to moments like this. Small, personal exchanges that could shape the tone of a connection. But he was out of practice. And tired. So tired. Instead of letting the thought fade, he spoke bluntly.

“Whose pants are these?”

She didn’t turn to look at him, focused on filtering the coffee. “Sam’s,” she said lightly, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

A pang hit him square in the chest. Well, yes, they were friends. Actually, he’d met her again thanks to him. Neither of them had said anything about seeing each other, and he hadn’t considered the possibility that... maybe they had their dynamic. Their own history.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

She finally turned around, holding two mugs in her hands. “They’re his old workout pants,” she explained. “He left them here ages ago when he helped me move some heavy furniture. I tried to give them back, but he told me to keep them. Said they didn’t fit him right anymore.”

Bucky’s lips twitched faintly, and his grip eased on the photo. “Oh,” he repeated, softer this time, nodding slightly as if to himself.

She studied him for a moment, with a hint of curiosity flickering in her gaze, before offering him one of the mugs. “Why do you ask?”

He hesitated, gripping the photo a little tighter again. “I don’t know,” he muttered after a pause, the faintest trace of vulnerability slipping through his tone. “I guess I just... wondered.” He glanced back down at the photo, the corners of his mouth pulling downward faintly. The laughter in her face, so easy and genuine in the picture, contrasted sharply with the heavier thoughts swirling in his chest.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

He blinked, startled by the question, and quickly nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

“Hmm,” she murmured, unconvinced but not pressing further. Instead, she offered him a small smile and gestured toward the living room. “Let’s sit. Coffee’s better when you’re not standing around awkwardly, you know?”

He followed her lead, moving slowly and setting the photo down carefully beside his mug on the coffee table. As he joined her on the couch, he caught himself glancing at her again.

Before he could avert his gaze, she met his eyes, and her brow furrowed. “Buck,” she started, gentle but firm, “you should have told me about the crowds. We could’ve gone somewhere else, like our other outings.”

His jaw tightened slightly, and he stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers as though searching for something to say. “I didn’t think it’d be that bad,” he admitted quietly. “Didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” she replied quickly, leaning forward slightly. “You know that, right? I had fun. It’s just... I hate that you felt like you had to tough it out when you didn’t have to.”

He nodded slowly, still avoiding her gaze. “I’m used to... pushing through,” he muttered. “It’s what I do.”

She tilted her head, studying him carefully. “Maybe with me, you don’t have to,” she said softly, almost hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure how he’d take it. “Crowds were a thing for me for a long time after I escaped. Sometimes they still are. I mean, I never left the Hydra bases when they woke me up from cryo. All I knew for years was my cell, yours, the med bay, the cryo room, and the... party accommodations.” Her voice faltered slightly at the last phrase, but she pressed on. “It was just those walls every day since they abducted me one day returning from the bakery. So I get it. We don't have to do it again if you know you'll maybe feel bad.

“You were... just going home from the bakery?” he asked, softly.

She nodded, and her gaze went distant for a moment, like she was sifting through memories she didn’t want to relive but couldn’t ignore. “It was a normal day. I had flour dust on my dress, and a loaf of rye in my bag, thinking about what to make for dinner. And then...” She shrugged, her fingers gripping her mug tightly, knuckles whitening. “Then it wasn’t normal anymore.”

“You didn’t deserve that.” He muttered.

Her lips quirked into a sad, fleeting smile. “Neither did you. So, as I was saying, you don’t always have to keep it together, Bucky. Not with me. You’ve already seen me at my worst, and I know more about that part of your past than anyone else ever could. There’s no point pretending.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, drumming his fingers once against his knee before stilling.

“It’s not that simple,” he said finally, his tone was laced with frustration, not directed at her, but at himself. “I’ve been... I always had to handle things on my own. Even now, it’s just-” He broke off, shaking his head.

“Instinct,” she finished for him. “It’s hard to break.”

He nodded, looking down at his hands. “Yeah.”

She leaned forward slightly, touching softly his forearm. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But... I want you to know you don’t have to do it alone.”

His gaze drifted to where her hand rested lightly on his forearm. The warmth of her touch seeped through the fabric of his henley. He swallowed hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he worked through the knot tightened in his chest.

His eyes then flicked over to the coffee table, landing on the photo they’d taken at the planetarium. There it was, sitting beside his untouched mug, her bright smile and his calm expression. The corners of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. Then his gaze fell to the grey sweatpants he was wearing. Sam’s sweatpants. His fingers instinctively flexed around the fabric, tightening briefly before releasing as he tried to kick out the intrusive thoughts. He clenched his jaw. His breathing hitched.

And then… fuck it all.

Slowly, tentatively, he shifted forward hesitantly. He hovered his vibranium hand in the space between them before lightly gripping her shoulder. Her gaze snapped up to his, her eyes widening in surprise but softening immediately when she saw the conflict etched into his expression.

She didn’t move or speak, giving him the space to figure it out. And when he finally leaned in, wrapping his arms around her with careful deliberation, she melted into the embrace without hesitation.

His chin rested lightly against her temple, his flesh hand pressing against the small of her back while his vibranium one lingered just above it, as though unsure of its place. His chest rose and fell unevenly against her, his breathing was still a little erratic but slowing, steadied by the warmth of her body.

Her arms slid around his waist, holding him tightly, and she murmured, “It’s okay, Buck.”

He didn’t reply, couldn’t find the words even if he wanted to. His grip tightened slightly. The scent of her shampoo, the faint hum of her heartbeat, it was overwhelming, yet calming all at once.

He closed his eyes, his cheek brushing lightly against the crown of her head as he let himself sink into the moment. For once, he allowed himself to take the comfort instead of pushing it away. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the knot in his chest loosened just enough for him to breathe deeply.

Her fingers moved gently against his back, tracing soothing circles through the fabric of his shirt. “You’re okay,” she whispered again. “We’re okay.”

He swallowed thickly and his lips parted as if to say something, but he stopped himself, settling instead for the faintest squeeze of her waist.

They stood like that for a while, their breaths mingling in the quiet, until the sharp buzz of her phone shattered the bubble. She sighed, reluctantly pulling away. He also pulled back, slow and hesitant, dropping his arms to his sides.

She turned to grab her phone, furrowing her brows as she glanced at the screen. “It’s Sam,” she muttered, answering it quickly.

Bucky stayed rooted in place, his enhanced hearing picking up snippets of the conversation despite himself. The words “mission” and “Patagonia” stood out, along with a timeline: five days. When she hung up, she turned to him.

“Everything alright?” he asked, feigning casual curiosity, though his posture stiffened ever so slightly.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, Sam just said we’ve got a mission. Argentina. Something about a big crew going along. He’ll fill me in the details tomorrow.”

The words hit him almost physically. Argentina’s Patagonia region. The location echoed in his mind, igniting memories he’d rather not revisit. Post-war asylum. Hydra remnants. The country’s role after WW2 wasn’t a secret.

His entire body language shifted. The soft, vulnerable demeanor from moments before hardened into something colder and sharper. A mask of resolution and rage settled over his features, and she noticed the change immediately.

“Bucky?” she prompted.

His thoughts spiraled. A Hydra facility? What if something went wrong? What if she ended up in their hands again? The images flooded his mind. The dark cells, the abuse, the cruelty. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and the tension radiated from him like a storm about to break.

“I’m going,” he said abruptly.

“What do you mean, you are-? Bucky, you can’t just decide-”

He stood abruptly, raking a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “Speak to Sam. Tell him.” he said, in a low but commanding tone.

“Tell him what?” she asked, confused.

“Whatever you consider necessary,” he replied, in a tone loaded with implication. Their past.

“Wait-”

“I forgot I have somewhere to go,” He grabbed the photo from the coffee table, tucking it into his back pocket without a second glance.

“Bucky-.”

But he was already halfway to the door. He paused for the briefest moment, with his back to her, before stepping out and letting the door click shut behind him.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @sunshinedayz19 @star-maker-rain-dancer @tumdlrnewb84 @mgchaser @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @gotminho @kaitlin013106 @startorrent @idontknowhowtonormal @mattmurdock42 @hnnhbananananana @aeriss-at-heart45 @jainaeatsstars @airixaram @seventeen-x @jaxz21 @zizzlekwum @hi172826 @valckenaux @moth-maam56 @myllamatimemachine @unaxv @smiithys @cats-chaotic-mind @melsunshine @neuviloved @cjand10 @frombkjar @strvnger3ditz @nikkinss @alexandra-001 @lavanderbreeze @cats-chaotic-mind @sleep-tight1 @lasrehsif @delicatepersondinossaur

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky hurt/comfort #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader

234 notes · View notes

daryltwdixon · 2 days ago

Note

So could you write a pretty angst-y fic where Joel and reader are in an established relationship and they've been settled in Jackson for a while, taking part in patrols and all. And one day, reader and Tommy go out on patrol and they're taking longer than they should to come back and Joel is anxiously waiting by the gate. Then he sees Tommy approaching on his horse with reader's limp body in his arms and a scared look on his face. Reader's been badly hurt while saving Tommy's life. Joel thinks he's gonna lose her but thankfully she recovers (so happy ending!!!)

Thanks! I hope you can understand the general idea, English is not my first language so bear with me lol

first ever Joel request :') thank you anon!!!! had this in the draft for the past few days

The air bit at Joel’s face as he paced near the gate, his boots grinding against the frost-touched dirt. The sun had started to dip, its light staining the snow a faint amber, and still, there was no sign of them. He glanced at Maria, who stood a few feet away, her arms crossed and her expression tight.

“They’re late,” Joel muttered, more to himself than her.

“Give them time,” she replied evenly, though her voice carried no conviction.

Every nerve in Joel’s body felt like it was stretched thin, pulled taut by the silence. He wasn’t the type to panic—he’d seen too much, lost too much that he'd grown a thick skin—but this was different. You were different. And Tommy... Hell, he couldn’t let himself think about it.

When the sound of hooves finally broke the stillness, Joel’s head snapped toward the horizon. Relief flickered in his chest, but it was fleeting. The sight of Tommy riding toward the gates, his horse kicking up fresh snow, sent his stomach lurching.

You were slumped against Tommy’s chest, your body limp as a rag doll.

Tommy’s face was pale, his jaw tight. “Open the gate!” he shouted, urgency sharpening his voice.

Joel’s feet moved before his brain could catch up, his heart thundering like a war drum. His hands felt clumsy as he helped Maria shove the gate open, the cold metal biting into his palms.

“What the hell happened?” Joel demanded, his voice rising as Tommy reined the horse in.

“She—she saved me,” Tommy stammered, his breath fogging in the cold. “Raiders. She pushed me outta the way, Joel. Got hit bad—”

Joel didn’t hear the rest. His eyes were locked on you, on the blood soaking through your jacket and the way your head lolled against Tommy’s shoulder. He reached up, his hands trembling, and carefully took you from Tommy’s arms.

“Jesus, no—no, no, no,” Joel muttered under his breath, his voice cracking as he cradled you against him. You were too still, your face too pale, and the warmth of your blood seeped through his clothes.

Maria was shouting something about getting a stretcher, about calling for a doctor, but Joel barely registered it. He carried you toward the infirmary, his steps uneven and frantic.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he pressed his face to your hair. “Don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you dare.”

The hours that followed were a blur of blood-stained bandages, hushed voices, and Joel’s chest so tight he could barely breathe. He sat by your bedside, his hands gripping yours like they were the only thing tethering him to the earth.

You didn’t stir.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Joel rasped, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His voice was low, hoarse. “You hear me? You’re gonna be fine. I’ll kill anyone who says otherwise.”

Joel hadn’t moved from the chair in hours. His back ached, his legs felt stiff, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The only thing grounding him was the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of your chest.

The infirmary was quiet now, save for the faint hum of the heater. The blood had been cleaned off your skin, the deep wound on your side stitched and wrapped. But the pale cast to your face still gnawed at him, clawing at the frayed edges of his composure.

“C’mon,” he murmured, his voice low. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You’ve fought through worse, haven’t you? Don’t make me sit here and talk to myself like a damn fool.”

He didn’t realize he’d drifted off until he felt your fingers twitch in his. It was subtle—barely there—but it sent a jolt through him. His head shot up, his heart hammering as your lashes fluttered.

“Hey,” he breathed, standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor. He leaned over you, his hand cupping your cheek as your eyes cracked open. “Hey, there you are. You’re awake.”

You blinked sluggishly, your gaze trying to focus on his face. “Joel?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me.” His voice cracked, his forehead lowering to press against yours for a long moment. His breath was shaky, his hands trembling as they cupped your face.

Then—in a move that to anyone but you that knew Joel would be uncharacteristic—he kissed your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—his lips lingering as if trying to will you back to life.

But the reprieve didn’t last. When he pulled back, the familiar furrow of his brow returned, and his jaw tightened.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?” he growled, stepping back just enough to meet your eyes. The raw edge of his voice sliced through the haze of your exhaustion. “Throwin’ yourself in front of Tommy like that? You tryin’ to get yourself killed?”

The gruffness in his tone didn’t surprise you—it was Joel’s way of dealing with fear. But the storm in his eyes made your throat tighten.

“Tommy—he… needed help,” you rasped, your voice weak.

“I don’t give a damn what the excuse is,” Joel snapped, his hand raking through his hair. He paced to the foot of the bed, then back to your side, his frustration barely contained. “You think I can just sit here and watch you—watch you almost…” His voice broke, and he turned away, rubbing a hand over his face.

Your heart twisted at the sight. Joel Miller wasn’t a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, but here he was, raw and undone.

“Joel,” you whispered.

He turned back to you, his jaw tight. “You don’t get to do that,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You don’t get to make that choice for me. For us.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and you reached out, your fingers brushing his hand. He hesitated for a moment before taking your hand in his, holding it tightly like it was the only thing tethering him to sanity.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you murmured.

“Well, you did. You scared the hell outta me,” he shot back, though his grip on your hand softened. “Don’t ever do that again. You hear me?”

You managed the faintest of smiles, your lips quirking despite the ache in your body. “Bossy.”

Joel let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Damn right I’m bossy. And you’d better start listenin’.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the hum of the heater and the quiet, shaky breaths Joel took to calm himself. He sank back into the chair, his head bowing as he rested his forehead against your joined hands.

“You’re stuck with me,” you whispered, echoing the words he’d once said to you.

Joel huffed, "Got that right.”

When he lifted his head, his eyes were softer, though the tension in his jaw hadn’t fully eased. He kissed your knuckles again, lingering for a moment.

“I mean it,” he muttered, his voice gruff but tender. “Don’t scare me like that again. I can’t…” He trailed off, the words hanging heavy in the air.

“I’ll try,” you said softly, your fingers brushing against his.

“That’s all I’m askin’,” Joel replied, his lips twitching into a small, reluctant smile.

He stayed there, his chair pulled close to your bedside, his hand never leaving yours. And for the first time in hours, the storm inside him began to quiet.

#Joel miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller angst #Joel Miller x reader #requests #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfic #Joel Miller drabble #tlou drabble #the last of us one shot

175 notes · View notes

madebycloud · 3 days ago

Text

What Would I Do Without You?

jinx/powder x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you've been through hell and back with jinx, and despite it all, you couldn't leave her behind. (requested by anons) warnings/themes: HEAVY ANGST, character death (reader), blood, hurt no comfort harhar words: 2.6k notes: first time writing something so angsty like this haha i hope this is angsty enough... (this takes place when jinx rescued isha in prison) a repost cz tumblr is shti!

You could run.

You could run right now, escape with Isha and Sevika.

But-

How can you? You can't just leave Jinx alone—not now. Not after everything. Not when she's facing off against this monster.

Why didn't you listen?

Why did you have to play the hero?

Why, why, did you choose to stay?

“What are you doing?!” Jinx screams.

And that's the last thing you hear before you face off against the beast, watching as it launches itself at you-

At the last minute, you duck.

Too slow.

Too slow and too late.

In one quick motion, the beast tears into you.

It claws straight at your stomach-

You can feel the air leave your lungs.

You hit the ground.

Blood blossoms on your shirt.

But… it worked. The beast backed away. It fled.

You managed to scare it. You've saved Jinx. You've protected her. This is a victory.

Yet-

Why do you hurt so badly?

You look down, and your stomach is-

Oh.

Oh no...

Everything is red.

There's blood. There's blood everywhere.

Your blood.

You hear the sound of running footsteps. “NO!”

It's her voice.

“PLEASE, NO!” Jinx kneels next to you.

Your mind goes hazy, clouded by pain.

Arms grab you and move you into a sitting position. She's holding you. “Please, please,” she's sobbing as she puts pressure on the wound. “You're going to be okay. You're going to be fine.” You know that's a lie.

You cough. Red bubbles on your lips and slides down your chin.

“No, no, you're okay,” she repeats. “Don't go,” she sobs. “Don't you dare go. Look at me. Look at me.” She grabs your face, trying to angle your face up towards hers. “Please, stay with me. Stay. With. Me."

You feel so tired. You want to sleep.

But she needs you to stay here.

“Sevika!” she screams into nothingness, holding you tighter. “I need help, please come over here!”

The pain is still there, but the adrenaline is starting to wear off.

Your body hurts. Your eyelids flutter, but you force yourself to focus on her face.

She's crying. Her whole body is shaking. She's a wreck, but even like this, she's the most breathtaking you've ever seen.

You think that if you were to die, you'd want the last thing you ever saw to be her face.

She's still holding your head as she screams for help. “SOMEBODY—SOMEBODY PLEASE GET OVER HERE!”

Your body is getting cold. You can hear your pulse, thump, thump, thump, thump, in your head.

There's an arm around your back, supporting you as you slowly slump against her. Your head rests on her chest, and you can hear her heart beating loudly.

“I'm scared,” she whimpers. “I'm so scared.”

She is scared.

She's scared that she'll never taste your lips, never feel your breath on her neck.

She's scared that she'll never again feel your fingers on her hip, or your hands on her waist, or your face in her hair.

She's scared that you'll never hold her close, or tease her, or say her name in a way that makes her heart flutter.

She's scared that this is her last moment with you.

“Jinx.” You call her name one last time, her heart breaking when she hears how labored your voice is. It sounds so unlike you.

“No, no, don't say my name like that,” she begs. “Don't say my name like that—it can't be. Please, it can't be.”

She's crying, her tears fall onto your face. You taste saline and sweat and sadness.

You look into her eyes. Those beautiful eyes, full of tears. The eyes that made your heart pound faster and faster whenever you met her gaze.

You think of her face, her laugh, her smile. You think of her hand in yours and the way she looks in the light of dawn. You try to remember her smell, her voice, her skin.

You know this is probably the last time you'll ever be this close to her.

You love her so much.

You try to reach up and touch her face, to wipe away her tears. Your muscles protest and scream at the movement. But you try, anyway.

She catches your hand, presses it against her cheek. Her skin is warm and soft, and you memorize the feeling of it. You hope you'll always remember how her face feels.

“I love you,” you manage to say.

Her lower lip trembles. “What?”

“I love you.”

“No, no, no… don't say that,” she cries. “Don't say that. You're staying right here. You aren't going anywhere.”

She can't let you go. Not like this. Not after she just got you. Not after being so close to a life together. Not after finding someone who loves her so much.

You'd give anything for a few more minutes together. An hour, a day, a week.

You want to stay with her.

You want to stay and be with her and see her grow into the woman you know she'll be. You want to watch those eyes light up at a joke and see her smile. You want to sit by her side as she laughs and talk to her for hours. You want to hold her, for as long as you can, and tell her you love her.

You try to muster a smile. “It's okay,” you whisper. “I'm here, right now. I'm… I'm not going anywhere,” you lie.

She nods. She tries to wipe away her tears.

“Please don't cry. You're too pretty to cry.”

She scoffs as she smiles through her tears. You love her like this. Even just hearing her scoff, even if she's upset, makes you happy.

“I'm a mess,” she says. “I'm a crying, snotty mess.”

“I'll love you anyway.”

“Don't say that,” she pleads. “Don't say that, please.”

“Why?”

Her voice breaks. “If you keep saying things like that, I'm not going to be strong enough to let you go.”

“You won't have to.”

“Don't say that either,” she whispers. “Don't make promises you can't keep.”

“I'm right here.” You try to speak louder. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Stop. You don't know that.”

And you don't. But you want to believe it. Oh, god, if anything, you want to be right.

You reach up again, brush the hair from her face. You try to be gentle so she won't notice how much it's hurting you to move at all.

“Please tell me a story,” you breathe. “Please. I want to hear your voice.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything… anything at all.”

She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and bites her lip in thought. “Okay,” she says after a moment. “I… I have an idea. Do you want to hear it? It's a story, if—if that's okay.”

You slowly nod and take her hand. She's shaking so hard. You run your thumb over her knuckles.

“When I was a little girl,” she starts quietly. “I used to watch the stars. They were so pretty… I'd stay up past my bedtime, just sitting by the window and trying to find the brightest ones in the sky. I always looked for that one star, and I knew I could find it no matter what time it was. I know it's silly…”

It doesn't feel silly to you. You like that she's talking, and even if it's a dumb story, just hearing her is making you feel better.

“I—I wanted to know if there were worlds up there. I didn't know about planets and stars yet, so I'd sit there in my room and imagine all these worlds, full of people who had entire lives I couldn't dream of.”

Closing your eyes, you focus on the sound of her voice.

This is the last time you'll get to hear her talk. The last time you'll get to see her. The last time you'll get to hear her voice. The last time you'll feel her touch. The last time you'll get to be with her.

You smile.

Despite the pain.

You smile.

Even as things start to grow dark.

You smile.

Because even though it won't be for much longer, you know she's still out there.

And she will find her way through this, because you know she can.

Even without you.

“Whenever I couldn't fall asleep,” she continues, “I'd look at the stars and imagine what it was like to live there and what people there were like. I liked to think people on the other worlds would look up and see the same stars and wonder the same things, just like I was. I wanted to see those stars and know that, even if I was by myself in my room, I wasn't really alone.”

“I wanted to know what it was like to explore those other worlds,” Jinx murmurs. “What it was like to be one of those people, with real adventures and fun and families. No rules, just… freedom.”

She keeps talking and talking and talking and-

She notices your hands. Cold. No.

Her hands are shaking, but she reaches out. She reaches for your cheek, caressing it as her fingers tremble. Her hand trembles, and she can't focus on anything but the fact that she's touching your skin, that she's touching you-

She feels the blood on her fingers, trickling down her hand, but she pushes that out of her mind. She doesn't care. You're the most important thing. Always.

She watches your chest, your stomach, waiting for a twitch, a breath, anything to show her that you're still here. That her worst nightmare isn't happening right in front of her eyes.

But there's nothing.

She presses her ear to your chest. Come on, she thinks desperately. Come on, please.

Silence.

Her fingers fumble to find your pulse on your neck.

Nothing.

Her world collapses around her.

No.

No, not like this.

Tears blur her vision. She blinks them away, trying to fight off the tears so she can see you. Can't see you. She doesn't want to. She can't. Not now.

One minute.

Just one more minute, that's all.

Just a few more seconds.

Please.

There's a pressure growing in her chest. It's so tight, it's hard to breathe. She can't breathe. Why can't she breathe? She needs to breathe. She needs to breathe, she needs to breathe, she can't stop crying, she can't stop because you're-

No, no, no. Don't think it, don't think it, don't think it-

“Hey, c'mon,” she says. “This isn't funny. Wake up.” She grabs your shoulders, shaking you. “Wake. Up.”

You're not moving. You're not talking. You're just-

Cold, limp. Nothing's different.

Please, not like this.

“You can't do this.”

Please.

“You have to wake up.”

Please!

“You have to wake up.”

Please, please, please, please.

“You don't just—you don't just get to do this to me!”

This isn't real.

It can't be real.

She closes her eyes.

She reopens them, looking down at your body.

It's real.

“Please wake up! I need—I need you, please.”

She's begging you, to the wind, to the moon, to the stars, that maybe if she pleaded hard enough, hard enough to the whole universe itself, maybe fate would be on her side just this once.

But fate was never on her side.

Life did this to her, it took everything she had and loved and was precious, it took away the only person she knew loved her. Life wasn't good, it was cruel and cold and harsh, and it was taking away everything she had. It was taking everything.

She hates this.

She hates what life was doing to her, what it had done to her. She wants to scream and pull her hair out. She wants to burn the world down and scream at the top of her lungs, at life, at the whole universe, begging it to bring you back.

Just. Bring. You. Back.

How many times had she watched you laugh, watched you smile, and done something as simple as breathing? How often had she watched you speak and talk and joke about something?

How many times had she told you she loved you, how many hours had you lost track of just the two of you talking? How many good moments had the two of you had that she would never be able to experience again?

It had been taken away from her.

You'd never laugh or smile again, that beautiful voice of yours is only a memory now.

And it hurts.

It hurts so much to think about how she's never going to hear your voice. How she's never going to see you walking around the hideout again. She'll never be able to see the smile you give every time she says something stupid.

She'll never be able to hold your hands, to kiss you, to lay her head on your lap. She'll never get to hear you laugh or feel your hands on hers.

She loved you. Every piece of you.

Every smile.

Every laugh.

Every word.

Every tear.

Every kiss.

Every touch.

Every moment.

Every single time.

Every single time you were there for her.

Every single time that you'd given her the best hugs when she'd cried on your shoulder.

Every single time the two of you slept on a small couch just so she could feel safe.

Every single time you'd hold her in your arms.

Every single time you talked her out of a bad mood.

She'll never get to have those again.

She'll never get to experience all of those wonderful, beautiful things again.

And she wants to do it one more time.

One more time to hear you laugh. One more time to feel you put your arms around her. One more time, she wants you to tell her everything is going to be alright. To take her face in your hands, look into her eyes, and say that.

Just one more.

Because what would she do without you?

How would she go on living without you when you were the person who had kept her going for months?

For the longest time, you were the one person that she trusted. The one person that she felt safe with.

Without that, what was the point?

She can still remember the first time she met you. She can still remember the butterflies in her stomach each time she saw you, the way her heart raced whenever you spoke to her. She can still remember that first, awkward kiss, how you held her close in your arms afterwards and didn't let go.

She can still remember the first time the two of you had said, “I love you.”

It was so hard for her to say it because she hadn't felt loved in a long time. And she's nervous, she's scared. But you spoke first, you pulled her close.

It was a whisper, a quiet “I love you” spoken in her ear. And then she started crying, she turned and buried herself in your arms.

I love you.

She'll never hear those words again.

But she can still remember what you sounded like.

That had to be enough.

That has to be enough.

Those three words have to be enough for her.

They have to be.

But they weren't.

Because now, you are gone.

“I love you too,” she murmurs. “So much-”

But there's no one to hear it.

She closes her eyes again, letting the tears roll down her face.

This is what love is, she thinks.

This is what loving someone does to you.

She'd never hated something so much in her life.

“How am I supposed to live without you?”

notes: forgot that singed is literally right there… (might write pt2)

#arcane #jinx #arcane jinx #jinx arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x gender neutral reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #jinx x reader #jinx x gender neutral reader #jinx x female reader #jinx x you #jinx x y/n #jinx imagine #angst #heavy angst

268 notes · View notes

starryylies · 16 hours ago

Note

What about Si with a reader who's giving him the silent treatment? I feel like at first he'd be like "fine whatever" but after like 10 minutes he begs his princess to talk to him

Silent treatment and Simon

Hii thank you sm for the ask! I loved writing it <33

Sorry if it got a bit self indulgent though.

It’s heavy on comfort so hope you enjoy!

You’ve been ‘off’ Simon could tell something’s going on but he couldn’t pin point why it’s going wrong.

Youve been ignoring him since he came home that night after his deployment, giving him short and curt greetings and replies a contrast to your sweet and elaborated ones.

He thought he’d let you deal with whatever you’re going through without butting in.

But no,

Just no

He couldn’t stand there and watch his baby look so down,

He couldn’t stand not hearing your sweet voice echo in the room.

He couldn’t stand the thought that you’re getting tired of him.

He was an overthinking wreck,

All possible ideas came to his mind as to why you’re ignoring him.

“Maybe she’s tired of me, ‘m a fucking mess aren’t I.”

“Maybe she found someone else, someone her own age. Nah fuck no, she wouldn’t do that. Would she..?”

His mind was going on overdrive and he broke down.

And now he found himself marching up to your shared room where you sat on your bed watching a movie.

He turned off the movie and put you on his lap.

“Love what’s happenin’ whys my baby ignoring me huh? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

“Are ya tired of me?”

He croaked out the last question, tears welling up in his eyes.

You looked at Simon as if you’d seen a ghost

“You really think I’ll be tired of you? I’m here thinking yr’ gonna be tired of me” you confessed with tears welling up in your eyes now.

“It’s just that, I know I can be a piece of work sometimes. I probably just make life harder for ya so I thought maybe keeping my mouth shut wouldn’t annoy ya like I annoy others.”

Simon is hurt to hear you say that, how could you think you annoy him. He fights to come home so he can listen to your sweet voice and look at that pretty face.

And who the fuck told you you’re annoying?

He holds it in him to ask that later because he doesn’t want to stray from the conversation going on but he makes a mental note to give them a personal visit when you’re done

“I don’t even know why you’re with me there’s so many people out there who are better, prettier, more competent.”

“I’m nothing si,I’m not the girl you make me out to be. I’m so scared of the day you start seeing me the way I see myself”

Simon felt his heart break in pieces when he heard you say such cruel things about yourself.

How could he feel okay when the love of his life thought so badly about herself

How could he show you you’re the prettiest and the only woman that matters in his life

“Ya fucking stupid?”

He asked curtly, regretting his harsh words the second he spit them out.

“Excuse me?”

“No genuinely are ya fucking stupid, you fucking think I’ll get tired of you- the first and the only thing that’s ever mattered to me?”

“Fuckin’ hell lovie you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve seen and yr’ important person in my life.”

“Ya think you make life tougher for me? Ever since you’ve come in my life you’ve made it liveable, you made life seem something worth experiencing, I was just blood and guns before I met you, now I’m a person”

“Fuck id kill for you, die for you, do anything for you. You seriously believe I’ll ever get tired of ya? Because if you do I’m sorry to say you’re a fuckin’ idiot”

Tears prickle down your face as you hear his confession,

You’ve been feeling so insecure, so incapable and so unlovable these past months when simon was away, you’d forgotten how much he loves you.

You cried into his chest, gripping onto him and nestling yourself in his arms.

His beefy arms rubbed your back as he cood at you, telling you how much he loves ya and how he will never get tired of you.

287 notes · View notes

emsdevs · 2 days ago

Note

saw you wanted luke hughes reqs, so ‼️

him coming back to your apartment after a game and just yapping to you because he needs to be close to feel better about how it went, but will never explicitly tell you that it helps him. you're just doing miscellaneous tasks, and he eventually starts whining about it, wanting to ay down and get head scratches/cuddles from you

(if this makes no sense, pretend i was never here 😭)

a/n: so so so sorry for the wait nonnie! i hope you still like it! i did in fact get carried away and wrote 1.6k words of mostly dialogue. is this a crack fic? possibly idk. anyway this was very much a lot of fun and my beautiful wonderful wife kirby helped inspire me

masterlist

Not-So-Silent Treatment

The Devils had an early game today, and although it was a Saturday, you had to this morning and couldn’t make it. That leads you to where you are now, finally home and in comfy clothes, cleaning as a way to pass the time until Luke gets home. Before you know it, you hear someone turn down the music you previously had blasting, whipping around to see who the intruder was after not hearing the door. When you turn, you’re met with your boyfriend, Luke, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face. He watched as you jumped, slapping your hand over your heart, hoping to somehow calm it down.

“You gotta turn the music down when you’re home alone, babe. What if I was a serial killer?” the smirk he’s still wearing tells you he’s not serious.

“Doesn’t mean you have to give me a heart attack,” you roll your eyes, walking over to give him a quick kiss. “How was the game, Lukey?”

“Oh my god. I have so much to tell you.”

“Yay! I’m gonna finish up the cleaning while you talk, okay?” you give him one last kiss before returning to your task of doing the dishes. In the background, you could hear Luke beginning his story of a crazy penalty that happened halfway through the first period. His favorite thing to do was talk. You weren’t sure why he likes to talk so much or how he always has so much to say, but it’s become sort of comforting to you. Instead of having some random song or podcast playing while you did something, you could have your boyfriend telling you everything about nothing. You suppose it’s so comforting because you enjoy hearing his voice, and it’s a nice reminder of the fact that he’s with you, even if you’re just talking on the phone while he’s on a roadie. Either way, no one will ever hear you complaining about your boyfriend’s talking habits.

Luke, on the other hand, knows exactly why he loves to talk so much. He enjoys talking in general, but when he talks to you, it’s just as comforting for him as it is for you. It’s a way for him to decompress after a long day, lay everything out, and get it off his chest. Then, he never has to think about it again. His favorite part of his day is talking to you, so he’s going to soak it up every chance he gets. Also, Luke is aware that he’s a clingy boyfriend. He’s not scared to admit that. Talking your ear off is just another way for him to feel close to you. It especially helps when he’s gone on roadies and can’t see you face-to-face.

By the time you finish cleaning your apartment, Luke is on story number five. This one happened an hour or two before the game while the boys were messing around in the hallways, something about Luke almost getting taken out by a soccer ball while he was doing his pre-game run. You’re almost finished folding your last load of laundry when Luke starts whining behind you.

“Baby, when are you gonna be done? You’ve been cleaning for hours,” he drags out half the words in the sentence.

“Luke, you’ve only been here one hour? Just let me finish this then I’ll come sit with you, okay?”

“Whatever,” there’s no real bite to his tone, and you know he’s just being dramatic. You finish up the last bit of your cleaning about twenty minutes later, not without some more whining on Luke’s end. Soon, you’re lying down on the couch, watching as Luke makes himself comfortable on top of you. He grunts a little bit when you don’t move, and you know that’s his way of asking you to run your fingers through his hair.

He lets out a big sigh before starting again, “So anyway…” You aren’t sure exactly how long you lay there with him, listening to him talk while you played with his hair. Soon, though, the sun has set, and you’re attempting to hold back yawns. “So Curtis decided to- oh? Are you sleepy, baby? We can go to bed.”

“Yeah, let's go to bed, hun,” the two of you make your way to your bedroom, immediately lying down and getting comfortable. Luke talked the whole way there. As you’re getting comfortable, you catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. “Luke, baby, it’s after midnight… can you maybe finish your story in the morning?”

“Yeah… yeah, babe, don’t worry about it. Just don’t be mad when I forget important details,” he mumbles the last sentence before letting go of you and rolling over so that his back is facing you.

“Luke. Don’t pout. I’m just sleepy, okay?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not pouting,” you can feel him rolling his eyes even though you can’t see his face. “I’m just saying. You know I don’t remember stuff well after I’ve slept on it. All those important details will probably be gone from my mind. Oh well.” You sigh, deciding to let him pout in favor of getting some sleep. A few minutes later, he speaks up again, “Ya know, I thought you liked hearing me talk.” After getting no response, he tries again, “Dad always told me I’d never find a wife if I didn’t learn how to shut up sometimes. I guess he was right,” he let out a big sigh in between the two sentences. It goes on for you don’t even know how long after that.

“Jack and Quinn used to never let me talk. I’m starting to think you’re just like them.”

“I thought I was dating my best friend. Turns out you actually hate me.”

“There was a really funny part too. I guess you don’t want me to do my favorite thing. Make you laugh. I love your laugh, but you obviously don’t care.”

“I guess I just love you more than you love me. I would do anything for you, baby, even ruin my sleep schedule. Unlike some people.”

“I would never name names but some people like to tell me they love to hear me talk but they really only mean they like it when it’s convenient for them.”

That’s when the fake waterworks set in. Luke is a horrible fake cryer, but that doesn’t stop him. He’s slapping his hand over his mouth, shaking his shoulders, letting out the most unbelievable “boo hoo” you’ve ever heard. When he sees it’s not working, he changes his tactic again.

“Aren’t you gonna apologize? You made me cry!”

“It’s 2:00 AM, and you made me cry. Are you happy with yourself? This is the kind of relationship you want? The kind of relationship where I have to cry myself to sleep?”

“I bet if we got into an argument right now, you wouldn’t even let me plead my case. Because then I would be talking, and apparently, you don’t like that anymore.”

At this point, you know you’re not sleeping any time soon, so you let yourself answer, “Luke, you’ve been talking for the past six hours.”

He’s quick with his reply, “See! I just can’t do anything right.”

“Ya know, you always call me your baby, but is this what you would do to a baby? Let them cry themselves to sleep?”

“Yeah, Luke, it’s called self-soothing. It’s actually a really common soothing method these days.”

“Torture method, more like. Poor kids. Is this what you’re gonna do to our kids? Tell them to shut up because you aren’t in the mood for them to express their thoughts and feelings?”

“Luke, we’re both freshly twenty-one, and we aren’t having kids any time soon?”

“Oh so now you don’t see a future with me? I guess I should return the ring in my sock drawer then, huh?”

“You have a ring?” you nearly shout, shocked at his revelation.

“Nah, I just wanted you to feel bad.” You quiet down after that, relieved that you won’t have to turn him down because you’re not ready, not that he isn’t the one you want to marry. He very much is, just not right this second. The exhaustion is setting in, so you don’t say much for a while. Apparently, that makes Luke really nervous. “I’m so sorry, baby. You know I was just playing, right? I’ll buy you a ring one day. I’ll do all the research. I’ll even stalk your Pinterest if I have to. I’ll buy you the perfect ring. Then I’ll give you the perfect wedding. Then we can have the perfect kids… Do you hate me now?” You can hear how sad he is, knowing he’s probably tired, and it’s probably heightening his emotions and dramatics.

“I don’t hate you, Lukey. I could never. I’m just sleepy, baby. I need to sleep, and I think you do too. Besides, I don’t wanna get married right now anyway.”

“Oh, so you don’t wanna marry me?” it was his turn to almost shout, his dramatic side getting the better of him in his sleepy state.

Eventually, you manage to wrangle him into laying his head on your chest so you can softly drag your fingers through his curls just the way he likes. Soon, it gets him asleep, just like you knew it would. Finally, you’re able to get some much-needed sleep as well. The next morning you hear it from Luke. He won’t shut up about how he has to finish his story but can’t remember half of it because you made him sleep. He loves to get on your nerves, but you wouldn’t trade a single moment with your favorite drama queen.

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @one-sweet-gubler

join the taglist

#em's writing #em's inbox #em's nonnies #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #new jersey devils #njd #nj devils #nhl #nhl x reader

340 notes · View notes

prettygirl-gabi · 1 day ago

Text

Title: Taking Care of You

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Fandom: UConn Women's Basketball

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: mentions of monthly periods

Summary: Paige's biggest moment in her college ball career and you missed it... and she’s ok with that

(It's that time so I'm in this kind of writing mood,be preparedfor extra saappy or heavy angst)

Reader's POV

It had been two months since I had last gotten my period, and I was beginning to think I was in the clear for a while. My period was always irregular—sometimes it was a couple weeks late, sometimes it’d skip an entire cycle, and sometimes it came in like a flood, heavy and relentless. I’d grown used to the unpredictable nature of it all, but this time felt different. I was just about to start to relax, thinking maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have to deal with it this month... until I felt that first cramp during the second quarter of the game.

I froze for a second, glancing at Paige from across the court as she made an incredible play. Her focus, her poise—everything about her on the court made me feel proud. I wanted to stay and cheer her on, but the cramping in my lower abdomen intensified, and a wave of dizziness hit me hard.

"No," I whispered under my breath, standing up and trying to push through it.

But my body wasn’t having it. The cramps quickly became unbearable, each contraction of my uterus sending a sharp, radiating pain up my spine. I could barely stand, much less focus on the game.

I made the decision right then—I had to leave.

It was a struggle to get to the doors of the arena, but somehow, I made it, feeling the heat of my body flush with discomfort. By the time I got to Paige’s dorm, which I practically lived in at this point, I was in so much pain I could barely keep myself upright.

I stumbled into the bathroom, leaning against the sink for support as I fought to steady my breathing. The nausea was starting to set in too. My stomach felt like it was being twisted, and I had the sudden urge to curl up into a ball.

I grabbed my phone, hoping to text Paige to let her know what had happened, but the moment my fingers touched the screen, I was overwhelmed by another wave of pain. I dropped the phone onto the counter, sinking to the floor and hugging my knees to my chest as the cramps kept coming in violent waves.

Paige's POV

The second half of the game started, but something was off. I’d scanned the stands after a particularly good play, searching for the familiar face of the person I loved. I didn’t see her.

Where was she?

It felt wrong. I had gotten used to having her there, sitting courtside, supporting me through every dribble, every shot, every win. And now, with the crowd roaring around me, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. I shook my head, trying to focus on the game. I had to finish it—there was no turning back. But the doubt gnawed at me with every minute that ticked by.

When the buzzer finally sounded, signaling the end of the game, I was relieved that we’d secured a win. But as my teammates high-fived and celebrated, all I could think about was her.

Where the hell had she gone?

Reader's POV

I must have passed out for a little while because the next thing I knew, I was being gently roused by a warm hand on my shoulder.

"Hey, hey, baby... you’re okay."

I blinked up, groggy and disoriented, only to see Paige’s concerned face hovering above me.

"Paige..." I murmured, trying to sit up, but the pain in my abdomen hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Don’t move,” she said softly, her voice full of worry. “I’m gonna take care of you, alright? I’m here.”

I felt myself melt into her touch as she carefully helped me up, supporting me as I leaned into her. She guided me to the bathroom, where I could see her pulling the warm, steamy water from the tub.

"I know you're hurting, baby," she said softly, her hands moving to help me out of my clothes. "But we’re going to get you in the bath, okay? It’ll help."

I nodded weakly, too tired to argue, letting Paige help me step into the bath, the hot water easing some of the tension in my body.

"You're so strong," she whispered as she knelt beside the tub, her hand brushing my wet hair out of my face.

I swallowed hard, too overwhelmed to respond. I felt a pang of guilt—after all, she had just played in the game, a huge win for her career, and I was here, crumpled in pain, unable to even sit up properly.

“How did you do?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Paige gave me a soft smile, brushing her thumb over my hand. “You’re the one I’m worried about right now. But, we won. We kicked ass. I hit 2,000 but ended the game with 2,012 career points.” She said it with such pride, and I could feel the sense of accomplishment in her words.

But I wasn’t really focused on that. I just wanted her to feel as at ease as possible, even as I struggled with the pain and nausea.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to leave during the game… I just couldn’t…”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, baby,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “You’ve been through a lot, and I understand. It’s okay. I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Paige’s words had a magical effect on me, and I could feel some of the tension in my body begin to ease. I let myself relax further into the bath, feeling the heat soothe the cramps. But even as the pain started to dull, the exhaustion was catching up with me.

“You’re still my hero, you know?” I mumbled.

Paige chuckled softly, brushing her lips over the top of my head. “I’m just happy you’re okay. And don’t worry, I’ll be your hero anytime you need me.”

I gave a tired smile, reaching for her hand as I let my eyes close, feeling her presence next to me like a warm blanket.

“I love you,” I murmured.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice full of tenderness.

As I rested there, surrounded by her care and concern, I knew that no matter how difficult things got, we’d always have each other. She was my rock, my safe place, and tonight, more than ever, I was grateful for her love.

183 notes · View notes

dollzites · 2 days ago

Text

⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS A FATHER

୨ৎ pairing: father!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: quite soft, quite fluffy, and emotional!

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!! so happy to receive this adore request and I’ve been so excited to get to it! I hope you can enjoy this and seeing a dad jiyong would be the cutest ever!! ): such a sweetheart x

jiyong will be the most softest, caring, sweetest, loving, supportive, and genuine father ever!!!!!!!!!!

does not care about whether the first baby will be a boy or a girl all he cares about is having a healthy child that he can help him become a better person.

enjoys letting the baby hold his finger and takes at least a dozen photos even when you tell him it’s a bit pointless to have so many of the same photos.

“it’s not! what if something happens to the first few I took then I need to have more for backup!”

jiyong will be extremely overprotective and if a family member wants to hold the baby he has to be near to watch and make sure everything is okay.

“see that precious smile? that’s because of me.”

you’ll give him this look and he then of course adds you in and thanks you for helping in the creation of the baby and why he/she is just so beautiful. aww

“do you think he’ll/she’ll look more like me or look more like you as they get older? I’m so curious.”

jiyong will kiss you and tell you to go back to sleep while he takes care of the baby during the night. he knows you need all the rest you can get for being up most of the day with the baby. he’s very caring.

spoils the child rotten but also makes sure that he or she has the best manners even at such a young age, teaching basic skills and always showing the baby how much he loves you for everything you do.

as the child gets older it only makes jiyong slightly panic because he wanted so badly for the baby to stay little forever but of course it doesn’t work that way so he spends extra time filming for memories.

“one sec! let me take this last picture.. alright I got it. gosh.. she/he looks so perfect thanks to us.”

when it’s just the three of you jiyong sometimes gets emotional and talks about how much he’s always wanted a family like this and he still can’t believe he finally has one after so many years.

takes family time very seriously. he’ll cut everyone off who’s not interested in including you and the baby. he doesn’t have time for any of that stuff.

jiyong will want matching pjs, shoes, jewelry, hats, glasses, etc etc with the baby and you. he looks at it like family goals and thinks it’ll complete the fam.

“guess what? I learned how to make this dish! do you think he/she will like it? it has all of his/hers favorite things in it! the broccoli is what sold me.”

jiyong is obsessed with taking you and the baby to the park every chance that he gets. he’ll ask if you want to go if the weather is nice and gets the big bag ready full of snacks, drinks, and toys for the baby in case he/she gets a little bored there.

he likes to plan little trips as a family. the zoo and aquarium being at the top of the list because in his mind it’s so important to experience these types of things with the baby as a very close family. cute ):

allows you to have time to yourself since being a mom is a very tough job so he’ll take the baby and shop around for the day or hang out at the studio while he/she plays and snacks on yummy snacks.

“are you having fun with dada? I know you are.”

if you’re away at work or he’s allowing you time away for yourself like said before then he’ll send you so many selcas that he takes of him and the baby asking if you’d like this as your wallpaper.

“thank you for giving me my perfect little one.”

jiyong loves falling asleep with the baby even when he/she starts to get older he’ll take bedtime very seriously and read he/she a book while slowly falling asleep. next thing you know he’s asleep with he/she in bed and it’s the cutest thing ever!!!

long story short he’s a perfect father to your baby.

137 notes · View notes

luvismenu · 3 days ago

Text

stream #04 — underwater

(smau + written chap) ,, pause or play ,, JJK — series m.list

warnings: wet. like, literally wet. cutie moments, flashbacks.

“alright, chat, see you in the next stream,” jungkook says with a grin, waving at the camera before ending the stream.

as soon as the stream is off, you start helping him clean up while he grabs a towel to dry himself off.

you were a little worried when he told you he’d be streaming in his pool today. showing tricks and swimming around sounded fun, but you couldn’t help but stress about how long his streams usually last—being underwater for extended periods couldn’t be good for him. thankfully, though, he wrapped it up earlier than usual.

you’re glad he’s more aware of himself.

“the weather was perfect today, wasn’t it? made for a great stream,” he says cheerfully, shaking his head, water droplets scattering everywhere.

you laugh softly as you carefully walk over, mindful of the slippery, wet floor. “here, let me help,” you say, reaching for his towel.

he lowers his head for you with a little smile, letting you dry his hair.

you’re in your usual clothes, a white shirt and jeans and he’s just in his swim shorts, but this isn’t anything new— you’ve seen him like this plenty of times before.

but for jungkook, this feels different.

his heart is pounding. every time he tries to show you his manly side (as he calls it) it’s like his thoughts spiral. he knows he’s doing too much, but he can’t help it. he just hopes you’ll see him differently… feel something, anything, for him.

“jji…” he mutters softly, barely audible.

you pause, your hands still in his hair, but you don’t pull away. “what is it?” you ask, your voice equally soft as you meet his gaze.

he tilts his head up, slowly straightening to his full height, towering over you now. your hands lower slightly, following the movement of his head, and you notice him reach for your wrist, holding it gently.

you blink, a little confused. “what?” you whisper, the proximity making your heart skip slightly.

he swallows, his eyes searching yours nervously.

“you look pretty,” he finally says, his voice quiet but steady.

your breath catches, and you stare at him, processing his words.

“huh?” you reply, caught off guard.

compliments from jungkook aren’t unusual. he’s always been sweet. but this… this feels different. his tone, the look in his eyes, the way he’s standing so close— it all feels heavier, more meaningful. you can feel your face heat up, and for a second, you can’t seem to find the right words.

his lips twitch into a slight smile when he sees you blinking rapidly, clearly caught off guard.

“i said you look pretty,” he repeats, voice quieter this time as he gently lowers your hand, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

“oh. thanks,” you murmur, clearing your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. “lunch?” you quickly ask, hoping to steer the moment away from the sudden shift in energy.

he doesn’t step back, and the proximity feels heavier now. this sort of closeness isn’t new—it’s happened countless times before—but it felt different ever since jungkook started his whole “i’m a grown man now” thing.

you think it began after your breakup with your ex, a few months ago. it wasn’t messy, just two people realizing they weren’t meant to be. it was fine, really. still, you’d had your moments of sadness, and jungkook had been there for all of it, comforting you in his own way.

but somewhere along the line, he started slipping in comments like, “it’s okay, jji. you can lean on me. i’m a grown man now.” it had made you laugh at first— you didn’t think he was serious. but the more time passed, the more you realized he was indeed, serious.

and you don’t know what to do with that.

“yeah…” he mutters, barely audible, but his gaze doesn’t falter. he keeps looking at you, and you find yourself unable to look away.

then, his hand shifts, his fingers intertwining with yours. you snap out of your thoughts, your brows knitting together as you notice him leaning closer.

your breath catches, and before you can think, you flinch and instinctively step back— unfortunately, towards the pool.

“oh—”

the slippery floor doesn’t give you a chance. you stumble, yelping as you lose balance. your grip on jungkook’s hand tightens as you fall, and his eyes widen in alarm.

it all happens too quickly.

your body hits the water with a splash, the cold instantly shocking your senses. jungkook's grip on your hand slips and he drops to one knee at the edge of the pool, his eyes wide with panic.

“jji !! are you okay?” jungkook asks, his voice louder than usual as it cuts through the sound of splashing water.

you blink up at him, soaked and disoriented, water dripping from your hair and face. with a heavy sigh, you mutter flatly, “jungkook.”

his lips twitch, and you can see him trying to suppress a laugh. “it’s not my fault!” he says defensively.

“you— you scared me!” you snap, grabbing the edge of the pool to pull yourself out.

“what did i do?” he argues, kneeling fully to help you.

“ugh, nothing,” you grumble as you accept his help. with his grip, you manage to haul yourself out of the pool, but now you’re completely drenched. your clothes stick to you uncomfortably, and you can already feel the chill settling in.

“well,” he says, glancing at you, “at least you’ve got extra clothes here and..”

but then his words trail off. he stops moving entirely.

you look at him, confused by his sudden silence, until you realize—

oh shit.

your soaked white shirt has turned almost transparent, clinging to your skin and revealing the light pink bra underneath. jungkook’s eyes widen for a split second before his cheeks flush bright red. his head jerks up so quickly it startles you.

“uh—” he stammers, now looking everywhere but at you, “the t-towel!”

your head snaps to the towel lying forgotten on the floor. you grab it immediately, wrapping it around yourself as fast as you can.

“i-i’m gonna go change,” you say, your voice shaky as you clutch the towel tightly.

he’s still turned away, fidgeting as he stares into the void, anywhere except you. “yeah, yep, sure, you know the way!” he rambles, his words tumbling out so fast they almost don’t make sense.

despite the awkwardness, you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

he’s flustered.

so flustered that it’s kind of.. cute.

“jagi, can you also get the tomato sauce? i think we need more,” your mom says into her phone, distracted as she talks to your dad. she looks a little frustrated, glancing between the ingredients for lunch and you playing on the floor with jungkook. his little hands clap excitedly as you build a colorful fort with play blocks.

“aish, jagi, no, not that one! you know, the one with—” her voice fades into the background, leaving just you and jungkook surrounded by his tiny giggles.

“jajji !” he exclaims, pointing at you with a big smile.

you giggle back, his happiness contagious. you gently take his small hands in yours, your slightly bigger hands wrapping around his.

“my dad is my mommy’s jagi,” you explain, smiling at him. “just like my mommy is my dad’s jagi.”

“eomma?” he asks, his head tilting as he refers to his mom.

“yes! your eomma is your appa’s jagi, and your appa is eomma’s jagi,” you say with confidence, proud of your explanation.

“jajji !!” he repeats, laughing at the word, his laugh light and full of joy.

at that time, he was new to the neighborhood. his family had moved in not long ago, but the two of you got along so well that he was already spending afternoons at your place for playdates.

“no, jungkook,” you say sweetly, pointing at your mouth to enunciate the word clearly. “ja-gi.”

he blinks at you, his little head tilting again as he tries to understand. after a moment, his eyes light up like he’s figured out something big.

“jji !!” he exclaims, clapping his hands again.

you burst into laughter. “jji?!”

“you,” he points at you, his grin so wide it shows his tiny teeth. then he points at himself and says proudly, “my jji.”

your face brightens with joy.

“and you,” you say, pointing back at him with equal excitement, “my jji.”

you smile as your eyes settle on a picture frame of a seven-year-old you with a three-year-old jungkook perched on your lap. his tiny arms are wrapped around you, his grin showing his little bunny teeth. your hands are loosely holding him, and your expression is full of joy. you wrap your arms around yourself now, standing in front of his wall of memories, each photo telling a story.

there’s his kindergarten graduation, his middle school soccer team, and his high school prom; with you beside him because he refused to take a date, saying he’d be just fine as long as you could make it somehow. (more like insisted you), and you did— showing up near the end of the prom, and you still remember the way his entire face lit up when he saw you there.

photos of him winning trophies and awards, moments that document every stage of his life, and in almost all of them, you’re right there beside him. you trace the edge of one of the frames lightly—the one with him on your lap—with your fingers, a small smile playing on your lips.

“figured it out jji !” jungkook's voice calls out, breaking your thoughts. you turn to see him walking out of the kitchen, a wooden spoon in one hand, looking triumphant. “i forgot to add sesame oil.”

you chuckle, watching him as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. he's fully refreshed now after his shower, and you’re wearing the fresh clothes you grabbed after your own dive into the pool.

“need any help?” you ask, tilting your head.

“nope! the only thing i need you to do is eat,” he says, flashing a grin before disappearing back into the kitchen.

you can’t help but smile again. the strange tension from earlier, the moment by the pool, it feels like a distant memory now. right now, it’s just jungkook; your jungkook. the boy who grew up with you, who you’ve always been able to depend on. there’s nothing to overthink, nothing to worry about.

he's just your jji.

next chappie at 120 notes !!

a/n: ive got the plot already written in my notes but it takes time to fully write & execute it ,, pls forgive me for the slow updates 😣

💌 series taglist: @milkk1400 @dna-black-and-blue @vrsltz @jkvamp @dieforkoo @myjungkookthighs

💌 permanent taglist: @annyeongbitch7 @internetrando64 @jkvias @lovieku @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @onlyforyoukook @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @jaytheatiny @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @genevieveeeee @thvgukk

@134340-kr @mar-lo-pap @fluttershypoo @kyuupii @https-mei @elinaki92 @jungkookmyoneandonlybaby @hoseokteardrop @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @jaykay-world @jmscaffeine @libra04 @beigerin @nikidream24 @svnbangtansworld @mimi1097 @kookoo-kachoo @junecat18 @iheartchanelle @rrosiitas @jjeonjjk7 @remgeolli @ty-moy-ya-tvoy @rpwprpwprpwprw

#jungkook fic #jungkook x y/n #jk fic #jungkook smau #bts fic #jeon jungkook #fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x you #jk x reader

136 notes · View notes

oceandelreysworld · 2 days ago

Text

Hard times

Homophobic parents, vi comforts reader. Fluff(Angust to) a/u. Vi x reader.

You never thought you'd end up crying in the rain at Vi's doorsteps, but here you are. Kicked out of your house because your parents found out that you have a girlfriend...

You knocked at her door, not even 10 seconds later, she opened the door with wide eyes as you rushed into her arms.

"Hey hey hey, y/n what's wrong?" Vi asked while she rubbed your back, bringing you inside, closing the door. You started sobbing into her arms, and all she could do was stand there and wait for you to answer. As you picked your head up off her shoulder, she cupped your face as your eyes drifted off from her face. You couldn't look at her.

"They..they found out. They found out about everything. They found out about me, you, us. I'm so sorry. I really tried. And I know I shouldn't have just-" you rambled on so fast you didn't realize when she put her lips on yours. Your heart was racing, body tence, but Vi has always been here for you to come back to and to comfort you. Your body relaxes as her kiss lingers.

She slowly backs away from the kiss, resting her forehead on yours. Both of your eyes are closed.

"You don't ever have to apologize to me. Especially for being yourself. Okay?"

She wiped your tears away with her thumbs. You okay your eyes to find hers looking back at you.

"Okay...Vi I never...I never meant for you to get caught up in all of...this. Whatever this is. Their problems always reflect on me, which just falls back on you-"

"Honey, listen to me. I. Do. Not. Care. Fuck em. All that matters to me is you. I don't care what they think of me. I care about you and us."

She's soft with her voice, but you can tell she's being serious and stern. Vi means what she says. It comes from the deepest part of her heart.

You are her soul tie. Her string of balance. She's your twin flame. Your everything.

"Please understand when I say I love you. I love your mind, your body, your soul, even your damn stubbornness."

You both lightly laugh as you lean into her hands, placing your hand on top of hers.

"Vi is do, but I don't want to keep relying on you for everything. I'm helpless. I feel like I keep taking advantage of you. I fall back onto you when everything goes wrong."

You sob lightly, trying to catch your breath. Her eyebrows frowned, looking at you in the eyes.

"Oh my sweet girl...I'm here for that. That's what I'm here for, I'm here to go through these things with you. You're my girl. And I wouldn't change that for anything in the world."

She kisses your forehead, then you lean into her shoulder and she moves her hands down on your waist, rubbing her thumbs on your sides, as you move your arms around her neck, moving your body closer to hers.

"I love you." You say as your grip grows tighter around her.

"I love you more." There's a comforting moment of silence between you two before she speaks again."You can stay with me as long as you want to. I don't mind at all, okay? Don't ever think you're a burden on me." She always knows what you're thinking without speaking out loud. Vi knows just what to say to make you feel better.

"Okay. Thank you Vi. You always know what to say. "I know, baby. I know." She rubs up and down your back as you rest your body on hers.

"Hey baby?"

"Yeah?" You say as you picked your head up.

"Let's go lay down. How does that sound, hmm?" Vi hold your ever so gently, afraid if she hugs you to much you might break.

"Yeah, I would like that alot."

"Okay, but first let's get you changed into some different clothes."

"Okay...can I wear one of your shirts?"

Vi hums in approval, nodding her head. "Of course baby, whatever you want." She kisses your forehead.

___________________________________________

A/n: I hope you guys loved this plot as much as I did. I'm so glad I came up with this. Also, if anyone has parents like that, please reach out to me or someone for comfort. I know this is a very delicate subject. So if anyone needs to talk, I'm all open ears.

#arcane x reader #arcane fluff #arcane vi #arcane x you #vi arcane #vi fanfic #vi fluff #vi smut #vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi league of legends #vi x you #arcane violet #violet arcane #comfort #fluff

135 notes · View notes

sleepyeepyp3rson · 2 days ago

Text

wwe/pro fighters!141 x announcer!reader (pt 2.)

Two losses in a row, a broken arm, and a complete disruption of the script. Add it all up, and it's trouble for you. So much so that your boss, Shepherd, called you into his office and told you to fix it. Or else. Not ominous at all.

an: oh yeah buddy pt 2. tried to do a pov switch (?) hope it isnt too confusing lmao. tried to keep reader as gender neutral as possible. dee vs accents, dee vs giving the reader a nickname

tw: nothing much, tagging these just to be safe. reader is told to "cover up more" and be less of a distraction, soap is a clingy, overenthusiastic little guy, reader briefly wants to kill their boss

(masterlist, 1)

"Four against three. One with a broken arm. Tell me how, in less than two matches, a team with a perfect track record loses twice and completely disrupts the script?"

You start, but Shepherd interrupts you. "They got distracted, that's how." He stands and starts pacing, looming over you. "The 141 boys were supposed to win last night. That's the script, that's why we did the promo the way we did it. And they, pro wrestlers with years of experience, got distracted."

He slams his hand down on the desk.

"Fix it." A finger in your face. "I don't care how! Cover up more, talk less, I don't care. Fix it!"

And like that, you're dismissed. Left standing outside his office door like some puppy. You want to march right back in there and slam his stupid, deformed pug-looking face right into his desk. But you can't. You need this job. It's your dream and your only source of income.

So you go home, and you stare into the mirror for a good ten minutes.

Okay. Just... talk less. Easy. You can shut up, you can stop talking. Not like you're the only announcer anyway, you have your coworkers. But how would that even work? You're an announcer. You announce things! Are you just supposed to not do your job? Does Shepherd not know why he hired you? Is he not the one signing the checks?

You settle for wearing a turtleneck the next day.

Pulling into the parking lot is no problem, neither is passing through security and going backstage, but the second you pass the men's locker room on the way to your booth, you're stopped.

"Aye, bonnie!" An arm makes its way over your shoulders, and turning your head, you see a familiar sharp grin.

"Soap." You shrug him off. Usually, it's fine, just him being touchy as normal, but you were told to sort out the distraction problem, to take up less space in the company, so you need to do that.

A flash of hurt passes over his face, and it stabs at your heart. "You can call me Johnny-" You shake your head. You did, before the whole almost losing your job thing.

You walk away before he can pull out the puppy eyes.

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

"Somethin''s up with our announcer."

Gaz pokes his head up at that. "Sunshine?" At Soap's nod, he curses and stops his stretches. Ghost looks up too, eyes narrowed, always watching.

"Knew something was off when I saw the turtleneck. Never worn one of 'em before." He huffs, looking at the little TV they have in the room to see what's going on. "I mean, steamin' Jesus. Thing swallows 'em. Like I'm watching a live show of a nunnery."

"Somethin' wrong?" Price chooses that moment to look up from his cigar and actually pay attention to the conversation.

"Aye. Sunshine's a bit too quiet, ye ken?"

Price hums, running a hand over his face and beard. "A bit concerning. Not like 'em to be quiet for so long. Someone say something?"

Gaz and Soap look at each other, clearly not considering that option, then back at the TV.

"Maybe we should look into it." Ghost speaks up for the first time, voice a low mix of a whisper and grumble as he fixes a few stray stitches in his costume. "Saw 'em leave Shepherds office yesterday. Could pay 'im a little visit."

Price stands, groaning and rubbing a hand on his lower back. He really needs to use those ice packs his PT gave him. "I'll go. Stay low for now, prep for that interview."

A chorus of "Aye, Cap" rings out, and Price exits the locker room.

Soap waits for a few seconds before he rises, and is immediately tugged right back down by Ghost. A dog on a leash, he is. "Don't you even think about it, Johnny. You give 'im enough of a headache."

He grumbles, but he slumps down in his seat, eyeing the TV. Eyeing you. (And that stupid turtleneck.)

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley x you #tf 141 x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader #tf 141 x you #tf141 x reader

121 notes · View notes

scoupsakakitty · 3 days ago

Text

Fan Letter | idol!Dk x reader | fluff

Y/N had never thought much about the contents of the shoebox tucked away in the corner of her closet. It was a relic from her teenage years, filled with old posters, concert tickets, and faded memories of a time when she was just another fan in a sea of glowing light sticks.

But apparently, DK had other plans for that shoebox.

“Y/N,” his voice rang through her apartment as he stepped inside, waving a crumpled piece of paper in the air. His expression was a mix of confusion, amusement, and something else she couldn’t quite place. “What is this?”

Y/N blinked, completely caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

He held up the paper, and her stomach immediately dropped. The handwriting was unmistakable, it was hers. A letter she had written years ago, when she was just a fan who never thought she’d actually meet the man who had inspired her so much. And now, here he was, standing in her living room, holding the very letter she had hoped no one would ever see.

“Where did you even find that?” she asked, her voice a mix of panic and embarrassment.

DK grinned, tilting his head in that way he always did when he was teasing her. “You told me to grab a blanket from your closet, so I might’ve… accidentally opened a box.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Seokmin, you weren’t supposed to see that. It’s so embarrassing.”

But DK didn’t seem embarrassed at all. In fact, he looked almost… touched. “You wrote this to me? Like, for real?” He glanced back down at the letter, reading it aloud with dramatic flair. “Dear DK, I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I just wanted to say thank you. Your voice has helped me get through so many tough days.”

“Stop it!” Y/N lunged at him, trying to grab the letter, but he was too quick, holding it above his head and out of her reach.

“Whenever I feel like giving up, I listen to your songs, and it feels like I can breathe again. I don’t know how to explain it, but you make everything feel a little lighter.” He paused, his expression softening as he lowered the letter and met her eyes. “You’ll probably never know who I am, but I just wanted to say thank you for being you.”

Y/N froze, her cheeks burning as she tried to think of something to say. “I was young, okay? I didn’t think you’d ever read that. It’s… it’s just stupid.”

But DK shook his head, folding the letter carefully and slipping it into his pocket. “It’s not stupid. Not even a little.”

“Seokmin…” she started, but he cut her off, stepping closer.

“Do you know how much this means to me?” he said, his voice quieter now. “To know that I could make someone feel like that? To know that I made you feel like that?”

Y/N looked up at him, her embarrassment slowly fading as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You really helped me,” she admitted softly. “Back then, when I was going through a lot, your voice… it made things feel less heavy. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

DK’s smile grew, and he reached out to take her hands in his. “And now you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

She let out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope,” he said with a laugh, pulling her into a hug. “But seriously, Y/N, this is one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said about me. And the fact that it came from you makes it even better.”

She relaxed in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder. “I still can’t believe you found that.”

“Believe it,” he teased, gently swaying them side to side. “But hey, if you ever want to write me another letter, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe something like, ‘Dear DK, you’re the best boyfriend in the world.’”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re the reason I keep singing,” he replied softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

As they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Y/N realized that the boy she had written to all those years ago had turned out to be even better than she could have ever imagined.

————————————————————————————-

138 notes · View notes

incomplete-leclerc · 1 day ago

Text

　𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗞𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦.　franco colapinto · #43

　　　your boyfriend acts on impulse, leading him to get into fights, and you to worry about his safety.

genres : hurt/comfort ... established relationship ... franco x fem!reader.　 request : anon for franco + stitches on a cheekbone for the 100 event.　word count : 0.6k.　warnings : mild arguing ... mention of injuries (bruises, a cut, stitches) ... mention of franco punching someone ... profanity ... some spanish pentanes (i do not speak spanish but i think they're all translated correctly).　 note : tell me why there were no good pics of franco so i had to find a random gif instead LIKE i swear finding pics takes longer than writing the actual fics sometimes.　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

“Franco? Where the fuck have you been?” you asked disgruntledly as the figure of your boyfriend stepped through the door. Wide eyes, clearly tired, but they softened at the sound of your voice, no matter how irritated your tone was. He dropped his tattered backpack on the floor and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t mean to leave you worried,” he whispered. You breathed, closing your eyes and reciprocating the hug. More than twenty-four hours with no word from him had you thinking of the worst possible scenarios to explain what had happened. Although you were still very much mad at him, you let him have the hug that you both needed in the moment. Breathing in his familiar scent, letting it calm your senses just slightly. He was safe, back in your arms. You could finally let your brain take a break from running in circles.

You felt him press a few kisses to your neck, soft and slow, travelling up to your cheek until you pulled away from the hug.

“Where were you? Why didn’t you call?” you questioned, withdrawing to look at his face.

“My phone died. And I got in a little fight— but, I’m really okay, Y/n. It was just a crazy night.”

Your face fell. “You’re so reckless all the time, amor. Don’t you ever stop to use your brain once?”

You knew the words would do little to change anything. Franco was messy. Nothing could magically make him a clean person. Usually it didn’t bother you. It was something you loved about him. But when it got in the way of his safety, it scared you. Staring at the bruises starting to form on his left cheek, and the cut on his cheekbone closed up with a few stitches, you only wished he would listen to you for once.

“How’d you start a fight this time?” you asked, leading Franco to sit down on the couch. Now that he was back home, it was time for you to take charge and take care of him. And if you were lucky, knock some sense into his brain. He was silent for a moment, thinking of how to phrase what had happened in the mildest way possible.

“Well… we were all drunk, and some guys said some things about you, so I just punched them in the face so they would shut up,” he said simply, trying to stop himself from grinning. You stared at him in shock.

“Franco—”

“Y/n, you can’t possibly have expected me to just let them talk shit about you? I don’t think I overreacted,” he defended. In his mind, a few bruises to his face was more than worth it to shut up a few assholes talking about his girlfriend. And seeing them run off with much worse injuries than him was satisfying.

“You didn’t have to fight them over it. Now you’re hurt, and I was left worrying about you for hours. It was unnecessary and completely avoidable,” you pleaded, hoping that he would understand where you were coming from. A few tears building in your eyes stopped Franco from arguing over it more.

“I’m sorry, hermosa,” he whispered, cupping your face and silencing you of any other critical words. You knew it was time to drop the issue. You didn’t want to press him more after he apologized. “I won’t do it again,” he said, noticing the doubt in your eyes. It eased up, and you relaxed slightly.

“Promise?”

“Swear on my life,” he assured, sincerity swimming in his pearly eyes. You knew he meant it this time.

taglist: @caffeinboi

97 notes · View notes

takimakiiiii · 3 days ago

Text

The Adventures of Loverboy and Twinkle Toes ~

lando norris x driver!female & platonic!grid x reader

angst, fluff, more angst with a dash of extra angst + established relationship + breakup

¡happy ending! dw, i’m not that mean

TW: swearing/profanity, bullying

WC: around 1k-ish?

disclaimer!: not all of these stats are accurate and the timeline doesn’t stick to the 2019 as it had to change for the story also the drivers had to be shuffled around for the story to make sense. basically it’s a big of a mess ALSO THERE IS USE OF Y/N IN THIS FIC

a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app for the last few month cuz i got bored one night at 3am

ALSO THE STARTING IS SO CHEESY SO LIKE BARE WITH ME IT GETS BETTER I SWEAR 😭

also with the driving parts it’s so bad okay I don’t even know what I’m talking and so pls don’t hate on me

sorry if it’s so bad I just wanted to finally post this so it doesn’t die w me in my notes app

<—————————————————————————————————>

You first met Lando Norris at the ripe age of 8 and my god was he an asshole. A constant pain in the ass, he attended the same private British school you did in Bristol, an academy for only the brightest and well, richest in the country.

Lando Norris’s family was a wealthy and famous one too, it wasn’t a secret. Yours, on the other hand wasn’t, and that too wasn’t much of a secret either. You’d gotten a scholarship to attend the academy after winning a competition. And from the minute you stepped into the school Lando Norris never failed to make you feel like you didn’t belong there.

You came from a line of mechanics and at a young age your Father got you into karting. And it was clear you had a talent for it.

Well as expected, it didn’t sit well with Lando, you were the only girl. It didn’t sit well with any of the boys who you karted with. That brought along of other things too, you were treated like a boy, something that you’d come to expect whenever you stepped onto the track. The boys would call you horrible names, something such a young girl shouldn’t be hearing, they’d belittle your wins and make you feel like shit.

You were a girl who’d fallen for a boy’s sport.

Something Lando would constantly remind you over and over again - that you didn’t belong there. Not at the fancy rich academy and definitely not on the race track. Only to make matters worse, he was incredible at karting. By the time you were both seniors at the academy he was already well on his way to the glory of F1.

Yet somehow you both were always the ones battling in that final lap, perhaps that’s what made him hate you so much was because you offered something no one else could: competition.

“Hey Twinkle Toes, you’ve got balls coming back onto the track after what you pulled last time.” a voice cut through the silence of the garage.

That same voice that had been annoying you for years on end, snapped you from your train of thought. You looked up and saw Lando pulling his gloves on, looking down on you as you sat on the steps of the garage. Something inside you began to tick, like a bomb about to go off.

He was referring to your last competition in which you’d pushed him off the track, unintentionally of course but he didn’t see it that way. He’d had a good yell at you afterwards in front of everyone, embarrassing you in front of all the other boys too. You clenched your fists as you stood up, yet his height was unmatched as you glared up at him. You hoped your face was able to match up the words that were about to leave your mouth.

“Yeah? Well at least I have balls dipshit.” you retorted angrily as you picked your helmet up from the stairs.

You turned around and he was now closer, a few mere centimetres away from your face. You nearly caught yourself jumping in surprise but managed to keep a collected face as he spoke.

“If you try that again today you’re going to wish you never stepped foot onto that track. Got it, Twinkle Toes?” his voice was laced with poison as he stared straight down at you. You stared back into his deep green eyes that seemed to glint with a harshness you’d grown to hate. You poked your inner cheek as you bit back an insult, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, Loverboy.” you replied with a humorous chuckle as you walked past him. You could basically feel the anger radiating off him as you exited the garage, heading in the direction of the track as your pulled your helmet on.

<—————————————————————————————————>

“What? Do you think you’re better at karting than me?” Lando asked as he lowered himself to your level, you were still sitting at your desk. His hands were down on the wooden table as he glowered down at you. Class had just finished for lunch and to explain it briefly - Lando wasn’t happy how the race had ended that weekend.

“I don’t think I’m better than you, Lando Norris. I know I am. So why don’t you stop being such a dramatic prick and leave me alone.” you shot back with a smile, knowing that would piss him off. You picked up your books and stood up, he did the same, now towering over you once again. You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your bag off the chair.

“You’re so full of yourself, you don’t belong here Twinkle Toes, you never have and you never will. You’re a fucking outsider.” he replied, you swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. You knew you shouldn’t take his dumb remarks to heart but the words would often eat you alive because deep down you knew he was right. Surrounded by all these rich kids with their rich parents, compared to them you were absolutely nothing.

“Fuck you, Norris.” you spat, inhaling slowly, looking away so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Go cry about it.”

And that’s how you found yourself sobbing in the bathrooms during lunch.

You could hear hushed whispers outside of the stall as other girls walked in and out of the bathroom. You knew they could hear you crying, yet none of them had the decency to even ask if you were okay. Rich British people were just like that, you guessed as you wiped your face with the back of your hand.

“Is someone crying in there?” a girls voice whispered in a hushed tone outside of the stall, you could see two pairs of black shoes and white socks from underneath the door.

“Yeah. I think it’s-“ the other girl replied, voice dropping low out of earshot. There were more hushed whispers before you heard one last remark.

“He’s such an asshole.”

That, you could agree on.

There was a moment of silence before a gentle knock came through from the other side of the door. Your heart jumped in your chest as you stared at the stall door, the girls on the other side still unknown.

“Hey girl? You okay in there?” one of the girls asked. You weren’t sure how to answer so you got to your feet and slowly unlocked the stall door. It swung open to reveal two girls, one a tall sun kissed girl with beautiful braids. The other, a pretty asian girl you recognised from French class, her name was Lisa or something.

“Hi.” you finally said. There was a long dreading moment of silence as you waited for them to laugh in your face but it didn’t come.

“It was what’s his name, Lanky Norris or something, right? He likes to pick you on, doesn’t he?” the tall girl asked, you instantly liked her. You let out a laugh through tears, the two girls smiled, success clear on their faces.

“Yeah.” you nodded, wiping your face for any stray tears that still lingered on your cheeks.

“He’s so annoying, the only reason he’s here is because his Daddy’s rich, ya know?” she grimaced as she crossed her arms.

“You’re also here because of your Daddy’s money, Sandy.” Lisa reminded her with a gentle nudge, you let out a laugh at Sandy’s frown.

“Okay, calm your farm, girl. I’m trying to insult him to make our new friend here feel better.” she shot back, throwing an incredulous look your way as she shook her head.

Lisa held her hands up in defence with a grin on her face.

“Okay, okay. Well, Y/N, let’s get you out of here and get you something to eat.” she suggested. The two girls pulled you out from the bathroom stall and you left the bathroom with two new friends and a smile.

<—————————————————————————————————>

Lando had heard the rumours going around, two popular girls he wasn’t a big fan of had found you in the girl’s bathroom crying. He knew he was the one at fault for that, Lando knew you weren’t as strong as you came off to be. But he always let his pride and selfishness take over because the truth was you were right, you were better than him. And he knew it too.

And that’s what pissed him off the most is that you were and would always be better than him. Not only at karting, in school and everything else too.

He guessed he owed you an apology, the hard truth was that he sort of admired your strength, you weren’t as strong as you came off to be because you were much more stronger. He’d seen you be treated badly by most of the other boys on the track, but he was too much of a coward to stick up for you because that would mean his feelings for you would be obvious. If only you knew-

“What do you want, Norris?”

He stopped in his tracks oblivious to the fact that he’s stopped right next to your locker. His palms instantly became clammy like they did each time he saw you as he attempted to find his words that had gotten caught in his throat.

“I didn’t- I mean- “ he stumbled on his words, mentally cursing himself as he made a fool of himself in front of you.

You let out a scoff as you shut your locker door with a loud SLAM, gaining the attention of other students who lingered around, their eyes floating toward you both. Lando flinched from the sound, becoming aware of the surrounding eyes.

“Save it. Your words mean nothing but shit to me.” you spat angrily.

Lando stood defeated as he watched you walk away. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, his mind was telling him to do something, but what? He didn’t know.

“I’M SORRY!” he yelled at the top of his voice before he lost the courage to do anything at all. Everyone in the hallway stopped to stare at him. If people hadn’t been interested, they sure were now. A scarlet red hue appeared across his face as you slowly turned and walked up to him, a giant grin on your face.

“What’d you say? I don’t think I heard it the first time?” you held your hand to your ear, propping up on your heels. He let out a sigh, you could be a big pain in the ass when you wanted to be. Yet he could still fell his heart beating ever so loudly in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, aware of all the eyes now watching you both.

“Didn’t catch that, wanna repeat it one more time?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips as you leaned closer which only made his face redder.

“Fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those thing. It was dumb and fucking stupid. You do belong here, hell you’re probably the only one who does, you didn’t use your parents money to get here unlike the rest of us. So, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve all of the shit I’ve put you through the last few years.”

You pulled away, staring him in the eyes you nodded. A silent thank you.

“It’s alright, Norris. It’s no secret i’m better than you anyways.” you chimed with a laugh. Lando felt his heart flutter as your laugh echoed through the hallway.

“C’mon, we have English class.” you turned on your heel and that’s all it took for Lando to follow after.

<—————————————————————————————————>

School passed in a quick intense blur as both you and Lando graduated in no time. A couple months after becoming close friends you’d gotten together, a bit of a shock to everyone at school who’d only ever seen you fighting before. Especially Lisa and Sandy, whom you were still close with despite your busy schedule now.

Your relationship with Lando was going great, both of you had slowly moved from the ranks of F4 to F3 to F2 and now you were both at the age of 19 soon to make your F1 debuts.

Lando had signed with McLaren, a team he’d had close ties with ever since he was a teenager his father was a close associate with Zak Brown. Lando alongside Carlos Sainz were to be the 2019 McLaren team.

You, on the other hand had signed with Ferrari, a big dream ever since you were a young kid. You were going to be driving with Charles Leclerc, a guy who was like a god to your family. You’d be driving alongside some of the greatest drivers of all time, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Fernando Alonso and many more.

It was no secret that you were dating Lando, most of the public seemed to take it well and the media weren’t too concerned with trying to pry into your relationship. One thing you were thankful for. Yet you were oblivious to the fact that it might change once everything started in F1.

You knew with Formula 1 more obstacles would come your way and attempt to break you and Lando’s relationship, you just hoped it would be enough to stand it all.

“Hey love? You alright?” Lando’s voice sailed across the living room of your parents’ house from the kitchen. Your silence when he asked a question prompted him to check if you were okay.

“Yep.” you quickly replied, laughing when Lando poked his head from around the corner for the sole purpose to raise his eyebrows at you.

“You sure? Wanna talk about it?” he offered, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. You smiled as you pressed up against him, pecking him gently on his cheek.

“Just thinking about what it’ll be when the season starts.” you told him as he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lean against him. His touch allowing a sense of peacefulness in the moment making you believe it would be okay.

“Me too. It’s kinda of scary isn’t it? Everything we dreamt of is coming true.” Lando mused as he leant his head down against yours. You let out a gentle exhale, “Yeah.”

There was a long moment of calm silence as you both sat there in the comfort of one another. Lando drew circles on your palm with his fingers as you closed your eyes.

“But. . .?” Lando offered, looking down at you with a soft smile. You chuckled, “You know me so well.” you grinned as you nestled your face in the crook of his neck.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.

You let out another sigh as you pulled away facing the tv that was playing FRIENDS.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just scared of what might happen to. . . us. You know? I’ve seen what can happen to couples when their lives are shoved into the spotlight.” you held your breath as you looked up at him, awaiting his reaction.

He gently rested his head on yours again, relieving the tightness inside you.

“That’s not going to happen to us, I promise, Twinkle Toes. I trust you, I trust us. I always have. Whatever happens we’ll get through it together” he assured you with such certainty it nearly made you believe him. You smiled, he always managed to make your heart flutter no matter how long you’d been together. The chemistry had managed to continue after all these years was unmatched.

“I love you, Loverboy.”

“Love you more, Twinkle Toes.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“ITS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest as you hit the accelerator, the car moving forward to your command. It almost didn’t seem real, the loud cheers of the people in the grandstands were one to rival a concert.

It was the same exhilarating feeling each time you raced, pressure but nonetheless excitement resting on your shoulders. The first few laps went by smoothly, you were in P12 after beginning in P14 after qualifying. Not too bad if you could say so yourself.

Soon enough you found yourself in the second last lap, you were currently in P6 after a spinning out from Daniel Ric took out three other drivers. The commotion after that had lasted quite a while as everyone was forced to wait. But the race still continued, a certain McLaren was on your tail as you both fought for P6. You were struggling to keep Lando at bay, defence was never one of your strengths. In this case it proved to be a big liability.

The waving checkered flag came around in no time as you and Lando crossed the finish line half a second apart.

“Who’s pole?” you asked your radio engineer as you pulled off the race track, loud cheers greeting you as you stopped the car.

“Hamilton, P1, Verstappen P2 and Leclerc P3.” your radio engineer replied.

“Sweet, that’s great for Charles.” you replied, “Good job guys, P6, that’s not half bad.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

The 2019 Championship went by in a quick exhilarating blur. And so did 2020, 2021 and 2022. Covid posed a problem for a while but everyone managed. Lando and you had been stuck at home focusing on other things, he with his Twitch channel and you on your own things.

Maybe you chose to ignore it, too focused on your career to pay attention to the cracks that had begun to surface in you and Lando’s relationship.

So now here you were in off-season awaiting 2023. Both unsure of what to do with each other’s time after being away from one another for so long.

“Hey, love? You going to come sit down and eat?” Lando’s voice called from the kitchen table. You’d moved in together in an apartment in Monaco not long after your first F1 season. A sense of hopelessness tainted his words, one you chose to ignore.

“Yep! Give me like one second!” you yelled back from your bedroom. You knew you had to stop pretending everything was fine, it clearly wasn’t and you both knew it too.

It was the time and the media at fault, something you would constantly tell yourself over and over again. Yet if you really thought about it you could only really blame yourself. There was no use in blaming all of those other things if it was just the two of you in the relationship.

You got up and walked into the dining room, smiling softly upon seeing Lando sitting down already. But the smile wasn’t reciprocated on his face and the one on yours had vanished by the moment you got to the table.

“Y/N, I think we need to talk.” he said gently, looking up at you. You let out a breath one you hadn’t noticed you were holding, nodding as you replied. “Yeah.” you breathed, the shakiness in your voice evident.

You took a seat across from him and awaited for everything to spill out.

“What’s been happening? What happened to us?” his simple words hung in silence as you found your own.

“I don’t - I don’t know.” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes that you knew were filled with disappointment, you stared down at the plate in front of you.

“Then why haven’t we tried to fix it? Is this it? Do you not want to be with me anymore?” he asked, his voice breaking as he looked at you helplessly for your answer. Your heart jumped as you looked up at him, his face breaking your heart as they searched your eyes for an answer.

“No! Lando, of course I want to be with you, I just- I’m scared.” you inhaled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. Your heart was thumping loud in your chest as you closed your eyes.

“Scared of what?” Lando asked, reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. You took another breath in. . . and the words slipped out.

“They want me to take your seat at McLaren.”

“What?”

“No- It’s not what it sounds like, I promise. I just found out, I swear. I was going to tell you when they told me but I-” you stammered as you searched to find some way to salvage from the damage that was now done.

“When did you find out?” Lando asked, his hand had now retracted from holding yours and now at his side. Your lip wobbled, unable to lie to him you answered, your throat closing in on you. It was something impossible, a change in seats and teams being so close cut to the season?

It was basically impossible and yet here you were.

“At the end of last season.” you managed to say as your voice wobbled.

That was well off two months ago.

You knew you should’ve told him the moment they suggested it to you. It would’ve been the right thing to do but you just could never find a good time to tell him. Yet that was just something you’d told yourself to make it seem better.

Lando let out a scoff, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, standing out of his chair, a loud scraping noise filled the apartment, dinner on the table long forgotten. You stared up at him, regret tainted your face.

You stood up too, reaching out for him.

“I did, I mean I tried to. I just didn’t know how to tell you, they didn’t want me to. I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry Lan, I really am.” you stammered, tripping over your own words.

He pulled away from your grasp like you had burnt him. “I thought we were in this together, I trusted us, I thought you did too. But apparently not.”

“No, wait, Lando. Stop, where are you going?” you asked helplessly as you followed him to the door. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen bench, unable to look in your direction as he answered.

“I have to go. Go somewhere away from you.”

The front door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed against the wall in a heap of sobs.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A week passed and Lando didn’t come back home. You called him, texted, all of them going to either voicemail or delivered and unanswered.

You tried asking the other drivers of the grid whether they’d spoken to him but they all answered with the same thing: that he’d asked them to leave him alone for the time being.

You hated yourself right now. You should’ve told him the moment McLaren offered his seat to you. You had been scared that if he knew he’d leave, and well, keeping it from him resulted in just the same thing you wanted to avoid.

You wanted to feel mad, mad at him because your selfishness couldn’t help but want to blame him. Yet, you knew it was wrong, the only person at fault was you. So here you sat in the waiting lobby of McLaren, surrounded by so many people who were associates with Lando it made you feel like a fool. You felt as if everyone was staring at you and not only that but judging hard as if they knew what had happened.

That’s when you spotted him, Lando was walking through the lobby, he was in the same clothes as that night. Your heart dropped as you stood up, unsure of what you were going to say him but you pressed forward. Your footsteps echoed around the lobby as you caught up to Lando who wasn’t yet aware of your presence.

“Lando!” you called, he paused and hesitantly turned around to face you. All those walls you’d broken down throughout the years were now back up again as he stared at you coldly. And it was just like it was back in school, Lando staring down at you as you looked up at him helplessly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly as he looked pass you, unable to meet your gaze. You swore your heart broke a little when he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Please don’t do this, Lando. I know I messed up. I should’ve told you the second they offered the seat to me. I didn’t want to lose you, I thought that if you knew you’d leave.”

“Well looks like you’ve lost me either way. I don’t care about the seat, Y/N. I care about the fact that you chose to hide it from me, I thought we were in this together.” his eyes flitted from your eyes to away as he took a step backwards. You could feel him slipping from your heart, you reached forward.

“We can! Please, I promise we can fix this, I can fix this. Just don’t leave me, please.” the words tumbled out of you only to come out as desperate and pathetic. It was wrong, you knew it too.

“I can’t do this right now, Y/N. I have to go meet Fred Vasseur at Ferrari.”

“Ferrari?”

Lando let out a sigh, stepping past you as he replied.

“Yeah. Ferrari’s offered me your seat.”

You felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach as you watched Lando walk out the McLaren doors. Tears slipped from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you stifled a sob in your hands. You watched him leave, taking your heart with him.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A couple of months later

“Race in 15 minutes.” a voice called in passing as you sat on the steps of your garage. Your eyes floated around to where Oscar stood next to one of the engineers, both peering down at a screen, jabbing at something on it every so often whilst nodding.

Oscar was the other driver who joined the grid this year to race alongside you with Mclaren. He was a young polite funny Australian guy and from what you’d heard and seen- one of the best drivers of the newest generation. He’d already impressed you before on numerous occasions when you would go with Lando to go watch the F2 races when you got the chance. The two of you would go watch your old buddies race and join them in drinking afterwards.

“All good.” you replied, anxiousness creeping its way into your voice as you attempted to banish any thought of Lando. You swallowed hard as you pulled your gloves on, hands trembling as they did before any race.

It was the first race of the 2023 season, there was a new lineup of drivers, some old, some new. Many of the drivers had transferred teams, this included both you and Lando, Carlos, Daniel Riccardo making his comeback and a couple of others.

You and Lando had both decided to call it quits after the whole thing that went down during the off-season. The other drivers were aware of what had happened and honestly it didn’t take a lot of thinking to put the two things together. You and Lando had swapped seats at Ferrari and McLaren, and alongside it your relationship had crumbled and fallen apart. Charles and Max, the two drivers you were closest with and looked up to like brothers had also provided comfort, saying they would’ve done the same. But you knew it wasn’t true, they just said it to make you feel better.

You and Lando hadn’t spoken since the day he’d packed everything up and left the apartment. You’d been absent when he’d left.

Neither of you had the bravery to reach out yet and neither of you could too busy with other things. Yet, two months later you still missed him, longing for his comfort and endless love he’d given you. It made you feel sick, it all felt so misplaced and wrong.

Both Sandy and Lisa had provided you with solace and comfort with their weekly movie nights at your apartment with buckets of ice cream. But it wasn’t the same, you still felt like you were missing something. Or someone. And either way, it would’ve been Lando.

Life just felt so wrong without him. There wasn’t anyone to ramble to each time you came back from work, no one to sit down with and watch corny movies with popcorn with. No one to sit on the balcony with and watch the stars late at night, no one to go on day trips to beach with and build sandcastles only for them to be swallowed by the ocean at the end of the day.

All of those things you’d found within Lando ever since Day 1. He was the person who kept you grounded, the person who’d stay up rubbing circles on your palms late at night when you couldn’t fall asleep or who would keep you company as you cooked in the kitchen.

And all because of a few dumb thoughts you’d lost it all in a mere few days. If you could turn back time you would’ve gone back and fixed everything. Now the only thing you could do was sit and wallow in regret and self pity.

<—————————————————————————————————>

You felt a soft tapping on your helmet, you looked up through the visor of your helmet to see Charles standing next to you, a wide spread grin on his face.

You broke into a smile as you stood up, pulling your helmet off.

“Hey old man, what’s up?” you greeted your former teammate with a hug. His smile dropped, replaced with a grimace upon hearing the nickname from you.

“Came to see you, you traitor. Can’t believe you’d choose this colour over this colour.” he remarked in disgust as he pointed to your suit and then his own. You had to admit, the bright red did look a lot nicer than the papaya orange you were currently sporting.

“Part of the job, I can’t say no unfortunately. It’ll grow onto me eventually.” you shrugged spreading your arms out and looking down at the papaya coloured suit.

Charles clicked his tongue dismissively before his expression turned soft, something you’d seen too much of lately.

“You sure you okay though? Have you spoken to-“ he cleared his throat, leaning in before whispering, “Lando.” like it was some sort of forbidden word. You bit back a laugh.

“It’s okay you can say his name.” You chuckled, Charles eyed you suspiciously.

“Are you sure? Because the last time I did you cried for 2 hours.” He answered.

You swatted him defensively, “That was ages ago!”

“That was last week.”

“Whatever.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Will you talk to him?” Charles asked.

“Nah, it’s fine though, we can’t talk. Not for now at least.” you told him, but your voice was strained as your eyes flickered around the garage. Charles knew you hadn’t taken breaking up with Lando well. As your “older brother” alongside Max the two of them made it their sole mission to keep you from harms way, that being Lando.

He looked at you with pity, you caught his eye before scoffing. Wallowing in self pity was something you’d done too many times this year.

“Don’t look at me like that, Charles.” You said, letting out a huff.

“Like what, Y/N?” he prompted cautiously. You couldn’t get pissed at Charles, he knew it too. After all, that’s what a big brother did, annoy the shit out of you.

“That you feel bad for me. I’m fine, I swear.”

But you didn’t believe the words that came out from your mouth either. He chuckled as he ruffled your hair affectionately before you swatted his hand away.

“I know you are, petite soeur.”

Your nose scrunched up at the nickname Charles had dubbed you ever since your first season. It meant little sister in French or something like that, you were yet to Google it.

He let out one of his contagious laughs before patting you on the back gently, before leaning in and whispering;

“But seriously, if you want Max and I can push him off the track anytime.”

“Okay, time to go, old man.” you said as you shoved him out the garage door. He rounded the corner with one last dumb grin and salut.

“See you out there, petite soeur!”

<—————————————————————————————————>

1 more lap to go.

You could feel your foot getting a cramp from switching between the accelerator and brake, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your neck and your breathing was heavy.

Right next to you, battling for P2 was Lando. Such a coincidence. Thanks universe, you thought as you turned the steering wheel as you rounded turn 3. Max was long gone in the distance probably nearing the checkered flag already leaving the rest of the grid in dust.

Zhou and Stroll were out already both crashing into the same barriers at turn 7, something you were used to at this point. (IM JOKING, I love them)

In the corner of your eyes you could see and feel Lando closing in on you, pushing you off the track.

You gripped the steering wheel, turning it in the direction of the Ferrari but he was quick to use this as a chance to slip in front of you as you both rounded a corner. You hit the steering wheel angrily as you watched Lando in front of you.

A long strand of curse words left your mouth as you crossed the finish line. The FIA was sure to have fun with that.

Your heart was pounding in your ears loudly as you pulled the car aside to a stop. Your team cheered, you’d gotten on the podium. But it wasn’t a win to you, you’d fallen for Lando’s terribly obvious trap and allowed him to take advantage. You felt like such a fool, he seemed to have that effect on you.

Thanks, universe, you’re a pain in the ass, you thought as your team surrounded you celebrating loudly. Any thought of Lando disappeared in an instant as you were pulled into hugs from your team and instead replaced with smiles and laughter.

You were pulled up onto the platform next to Max, and Lando whom you avoided interacting with the entire podium stand part. Everything after that was a quick blur until the after race press conference.

“Here we’re joined by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris and Y/N

L/N.”

You forced a smile, honestly the only thing you wanted right now was to be at home eating ice cream with Sandy and Lisa. Or be sleeping, you’d be okay with either of those options. Yet, here you were sitting on a couch alongside your friend and ex-boyfriend in front of a bunch of reporters.

You glanced over at Max who’d thoughtfully placed himself in between both you and Lando. Something you were sure to thank him for afterwards. He sent you a gentle smile, one you returned without hesitation.

The first couple of questions were pretty simple ones, you avoided adding onto Lando’s answers and he to yours and there was no need to.

That was until a young female reporter took the opportunity to ask about you and Lando’s relationship. Something that caught you unprepared and by surprise.

“So Y/N and Lando,” she began, you could feel your heartbeat spiking as you looked around, every PR training you’d sat through instantly disappearing from your mind.

“There’s been rumours going around that the seat transition wasn’t something that was thoroughly discussed before the contract signing. Is there something you’d like to add on about this?”

You swallowed hard as you avoided meeting Lando’s gaze, one you could see in the corner of your eye.

“N-no comment.” you managed to say.

“Right. So how about you and Lando’s relationship status, there’s been some sources claiming-“

“Okay. I think that’s enough. We’re here to answer questions about the race, nothing else.” Max cut off as he stepped in with a stern voice, one that was sure to make anyone go silent. You prayed to god that no one heard the giant sigh of relief that you let out after Max interjected. You could feel yourself shrinking under the stares of all the reporters and photographers as you sat in front of them.

The rest of the conference went by in plain awkwardness, answers were now only answered by Max, yet another thing you had to thank him for.

You finally exhaled as you stepped out of the conference room, Max behind you, Lando had gone out the other door. You leant against the empty corridor wall, head pressed against the cool plaster.

“That was a nightmare.” you groaned loudly, the exhaustion obvious in your voice. Max let out a sigh as he crossed his arms disapprovingly.

“That was unacceptable on their side to allow the reporter to keep asking such questions.” Max mused, anger tainted his voice. You let out a laugh as you turned to him.

“Thanks, Maximilian.” you broke into a grin knowing how much he hated being called that. He huffed disapprovingly, “Maybe next time I wont save your sorry ass.”

“Okay, okay. Calm your farm, pal.” you replied as you both began walking down the corridor headed toward the entrance where there was sure to be a giant crowd waiting.

“I’ll go get that reporter fired.” Max announced loudly despite it only being the two of you in the corridor. You looked up at him, holding back a laugh despite the look on his face being the opposite.

“Admirable goals, but it’s fine really. I’m sure Twitter will have a fun time tearing her apart.” you waved it off with a gentle smile knowing just how brutal the audience on Twitter could be.

Max chuckled, “Everything else okay though?” You knew instantly what he was talking about, you appreciated the concern, you really did but you could handle yourself.

Your smile fell, replaced with narrow eyes and a clenched jaw as you eyed him.

“Did Charles put you up to this?” you asked him skeptically, he shook his head.

“I’m allowed to worry about you too, you know.” he added with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks Maximilian, for everything.”

“Okay, you can shut up now.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“Y/N?”

“One second!” you called, trying to avoid the oil that was spattering into a puddle beside your face. You were currently in your father’s mechanic shop underneath a car working away at it. You were still blowing off steam after the press conference that had happened on the weekend and your father was more than happy to lend you the garage for just that. You knew some part of you wanted Lando to approach you after the race, even if it wasn’t to talk but just to say something, you know?

But even if he had you were sure how you’d react.

“Can you pass me the wrench?” you called to the unknown person. You heard a loud clatter of metal before a wrench was stuck in your face.

“Thanks.” you grumbled as you took it from them, pausing as a shock of realisation hit you.

Wait, that watch on their wrist.

Your dumbass tried sitting up on the board while still under the car.

BAM.

“Ouch, fucking hell.” you swore loudly as you pulled yourself out from underneath the car. Rubbing your forehead in pain as you stood up, before your eyes settled on the person in front of you.

Your mind blanked as Lando stared back at you. You could see him biting back a laugh at your misfortune. He was in a white shirt, one button too many undone for you to know where this was going. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he stood watching you as you walked his way.

“Fine. Laugh, you asshole.” you grumbled as you brushed past him. Gripping the wrench in your fist as you held back the strong urge to whack his head in with it. Lando laughed and you’d be lying if the sound of it didn’t still make your insides turn and do flips.

“Calm down Twinkle Toes, I’m not here to laugh at you. I’m here to . . . apologise.” his tone turning serious, you let out an steady exhale.

You missed being called that, it was a dumb nickname he’d given you as children, back when you were each other’s biggest rivals on the track.

Twinkle Toes and Loverboy, a duo to rival Chandler and Joey. Or at least that’s what your dumb asses came up with at the time.

You let the wrench fall from your grip and onto the bench with a loud metallic clatter, breaking the silence before you spoke.

“Yeah.” you breathed, staring at the wall in attempt to not let your guard slide down so easily.

“Want to go for a ride?”

You turned around with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed and all. Lando stared back at you, heat flushing up your cheeks as a smile tugged at his lips.

“What?”

“C’mon, Twinkle Toes, let’s get out of here.” he said with a gentle nod of his head in the direction of his car parked outside.

And that’s all it took for you to drop everything and follow him out the garage.

<————————————————————————————-—————>

You let out a soft gasp when Lando pulled up at the track where you both used to race on during your karting days. The sun was already beginning to slip back the mountains and buildings and out of view, you bit your lip nervously as you opened the car door.

Was this right?

Were you making a big mistake?

Despite your lingering doubts you followed him onto the empty track. The first few minutes of walking were full of silence, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable despite everything that had happened. It was peaceful of all things.

“I-“

You both immediately retracted your words as you both began at the same time. You looked away, “God this worse than that movie we watched that one time.” you murmured with a soft laugh. Lando found himself chuckling knowing exactly which movie you were talking about.

“Let me go first, then.” he offered, you nodded silently. A long string of silence filled the air, only the sound of your footsteps on the track could be heard.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Honestly? I would’ve done the same thing. I shouldn’t have given so easily on us, I should’ve given us a second chance. Because bloody hell these last two months without you have been absolute shit. I don’t even know who I am without you, and maybe in someway that’s a bad thing but I don’t care as long as I have you.” he stopped in his tracks and faced you, his dark green eyes reflecting the light in the sunset as it cast its gaze over his face.

Your hand cupped his cheek softly, your heart fluttering when he pressed his face into your hand, loving how it fit perfectly.

Just like that it was like you were both high schoolers again. Slipping out of class to steal kisses in the hallways before they were crowded with students. Sneaking out at night through your window to go walk around the streets late together.

You swallowed hard and spoke.

“After everything happened, my life completely just stopped still. And it felt like I had lost half of who I was because the truth is, Lando, that you’re a part of me. Ever since we were kids it’s like without you i’m lost. I should’ve told you the moment they offered me the seat, I was just ashamed and scared. Because I wanted a future with you, because I still do. I want to marry you, have a family and grow old right next to you.”

You stared longingly into his eyes as he pulled you closer. You fell into his arms as they wrapped around you like your own protective shield. Because the truth was that Lando was your home. You let out a shaky breath, as you pulled back and leant in for a kiss only for your lips to be captured in a gentle motion.

It was something out of a cheesy teen movie, one that the two of you would just hate - two figures kissing as the sun set in the back of a race track.

“You’re crazy.” you whispered against his lips.

“Crazy for you.” he whispered back, sending you both into fits of laughter. This was it, this was right, this was home.

“C’mon, let’s go home Twinkle Toes.”

“After you, Loverboy.”

A/n: STOP ITS SO CRINGEY I WANNA DIEE

Jk.

Tysm for reading! I apologise again for the bad writing, this is just an old piece that I really wanted to get out there, I hope u cringed just as much as I did reading this! Stay safe and have an amazing day - xoxo takimakiiii (yes I changed my name it was long overdue lol)

#lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando x you #oscar piastri #charles leclerc x reader #f2 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 angst

125 notes · View notes