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wife-of-all-dilfs · 11 months ago

Note

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

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

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

two souls, one heart | f. odair

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

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes!"

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

"Oh really?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wiress had been murdered.

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

The Careers had initiated an attack.

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

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

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

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

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

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

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

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

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

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

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

"NO! NO!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

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

"No," he whispered again.

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

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

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

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

"Breathe."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you."

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

**********

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

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

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

Your heart.

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

"I love you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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waitimcomingtoo · 7 months ago

Text

Just to Learn That You Never Cared

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret

requested/idea by @usoppsstar

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“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.

“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.

Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.

“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.

“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.

“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”

“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.

“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”

“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.

“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”

“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.

“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”

“Oh, I love that place.”

“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“

Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.

“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.

“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.

“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”

“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.

“I love you too.” Peter sighed.

“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.

“No.” Peter quickly lied.

“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.

The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.

“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.

“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.

“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”

“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.

“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.

“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”

“We can.” Carly mumbled.

“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.

“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”

“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”

“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”

“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.

“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.

“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.

“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.

“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“

“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”

“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.

“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.

“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.

“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“

“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.

“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”

“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”

“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.

“Huh?”

“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.

“Huh?” You said louder.

“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.

“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”

“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.

“So you didn’t know about this either?”

“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.

“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.

“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.

“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.

“What?” You wondered.

“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.

“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.

“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.

“What?”

“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”

“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.

“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”

“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”

“Why would we do that?”

“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”

“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”

“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.

“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.

“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.

“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.

“No.” He admitted.

The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.

“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.

“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.

“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.

“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.

“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.

“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”

“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”

“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.

“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.

“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.

“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.

“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.

You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.

“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.

“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”

“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.

“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.

“What?” You asked him.

“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.

“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.

“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.

“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.

“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.

“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”

He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.

“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.

“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.

“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”

Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.

“What?” You asked him.

“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.

“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.

“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”

“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.

“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.

“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”

“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”

“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”

You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.

“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.

“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.

“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.

“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”

“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.

“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.

“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”

You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.

That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.

“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.

“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.

“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.

“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.

“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.

“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.

“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.

“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.

“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.

“blue”

“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.

“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.

“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.

“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.

“if ur the Chase then who am I?”

“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.

“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.

“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.

“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.

“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.

“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.

“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”

“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.

“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”

“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.

“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.

“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.

“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.

“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.

“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.

“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.

“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.

“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.

“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.

“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.

“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.

“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.

“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”

“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.

“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.

“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.

“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”

“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.

“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.

“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”

“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.

“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.

“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.

“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”

“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.

“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.

“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.

The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.

“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.

“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”

“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”

“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.

“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”

“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”

“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”

“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.

“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.

“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.

“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“

“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.

Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.

“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.

“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.

“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.

“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.

“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.

“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.

“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.

“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.

“Like what?” Peter gulped.

“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”

“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.

“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”

“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”

“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”

“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.

“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.

“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.

“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.

“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.

“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.

“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.

“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.

“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.

“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.

“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“

“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.

“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.

“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.

“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”

“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”

“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.

“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.

“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“

“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.

“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”

Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.

“Peter-“

“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.

“What? Why not?”

“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”

“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.

“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.

“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”

“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”

“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”

“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”

“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”

“It was all I had.” You shrugged.

“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”

“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”

“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.

“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.

“Sit back down.” You told him.

“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.

“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”

“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”

“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.

“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.

“Or we could do your thing.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

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@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

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@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

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kingtomura · 7 months ago

Text

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words. wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen.

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor.

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something.

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!”

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.”

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side.

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all.

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most.

You had no idea what he was up to.

Maybe he was as depressed as you were.

Maybe he’s found someone else.

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous.

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees.

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id.

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers.

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing.

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura.

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far.

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet.

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that.

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile.

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!”

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day.

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle.

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge.

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch.

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains.

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura.

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you.

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession.

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw.

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time.

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy.

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake.

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by.

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?”

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you.

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that.

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there.

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore.

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously?

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective.

But things are always easier said than done.

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly.

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you.

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination.

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment.

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down.

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now.

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it.

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard.

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall.

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet.

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to.

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen.

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away.

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him.

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of.

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on.

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections.

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull.

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face.

“Stop walking away from me!”

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner.

“What are you going to do about it?”

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch.

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you.

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment.

Cat and mouse.

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest.

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would.

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed.

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact.

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer.

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible.

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity.

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt.

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well.

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more.

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course.

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer.

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over.

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression.

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure.

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure.

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t.

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high.

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality.

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell.

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now.

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time.

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him.

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom.

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock.

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon.

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy.

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication.

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well.

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek.

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it.

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word.

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long.

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it.

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high.

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again.

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup.

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking.

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.”

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?”

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment.

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles.

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again.

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?”

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is.

“Tomura…”

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it.

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.”

And it’s the truth.

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss.

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine.

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you

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katsukistofu · 4 months ago

Text

my caffeine mix-up! pt. ii

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | part i

note: fukuoka is the canon location of hawks hero agency

You stare at the text for what embarrassingly feels like at least the tenth time this hour.

pick you up at 8 ;)

Was sent mere moments ago from the contact Hawks, that had several hearts next to his name that you don’t remember him putting, saved in your phone after he dropped you off at work this morning.

Nearly giving your coworkers who just so happened to be looking out the windows at the time synchronized heart attacks in their cubicles, which would’ve been very hard to explain to your boss.

Who, thank All Might, was not here today.

But the millisecond you walked out of the elevator onto your floor, their nosy natures quickly won over their states of disbelief.

Desperate for the juicy details, nothing could stop them from swarming you like a group of hungry piranhas, and you’re flooded with a sea of questions you’re simply at a loss for how to answer.

“How did you meet him?” “So when’s the wedding?” “Were you rescued in a villain attack that wasn’t on the news yet?” “Oh my god, did you two—?”

“Guys!” You cut them off with a frantic wave of your hands, you did not need to hear the end of that sentence. “We just happened to meet. I, uh.”

Your coworkers look at you with expectant eyes, eagerly waiting to hear your no doubt heart-racing meet-cute story with the hero so popular, that when the paparazzi got a picture of him sipping kombucha tea, the drink went out of stock in stores nationwide faster than you could even say its name.

“I accidentally took his coffee order.”

You cringe a bit as you finish, and you’re met with the most comically shocked faces you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“You WHAT!?”

“Damn I literally just tweeted ‘my coworker stole Hawks’s coffee’ and it already has a hundred reposts.”

“Oh honey, you’re lucky our boss is out sick today. He’d fire you for that.”

“Yeah, Hawks is his all-time favorite on the charts since All Might.”

You groan. “I know! He was so nice about it too, I still feel bad.”

“You should be.”

All your coworkers simultaneously glare at your company’s front desk receptionist that somehow snuck up to your floor, who for some reason takes that as a signal to continue.

“I could never be illiterate enough to take his order if I was in that coffee shop.”

“No one cares, Janet,” everyone says in deadpanned unison.

Janet huffs and turns to leave, but not before pointedly throwing another withering look at you.

She never did like you ever since you politely corrected her grammar in that passive aggressive email she sent when you were a new hire.

Not illiterate your ass.

Throughout the day, you answer more emails, calls, and print papers in a daze.

When you go to forward an email, all you can think about is how his strong arms felt on your waist. When you go retrieve ink to refill the printer, all you can think about is his gentle yet firm grip that he had on your thighs.

This could not be healthy.

But what if it was? You’ve never been touched so intimately, so softly before, like you were something precious, even in your fleeting experiences with relationships.

No one’s made you feel this safe like he does from just being in their presence.

But you blame that on him being a hero. He was probably trained on how to calm civilians down, especially during rescues.

You don’t really think that applied to people who stole his coffee, but maybe that was just you trying to feel special.

With a shake of your head, you straighten yourself in your chair. You had to get it together.

No more thoughts of Hawks on company time until it’s time to clock out!

But it seems like the winged flirt had other plans.

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:00]

hey

[sent an image]

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:01]

saw a pretty flower on

someone’s roof and it

reminded me of you :)

You freeze when you see the notification pop up, mid-bite through the food that you picked up from your favorite aesthetically pleasing cafe for lunch.

With a mouthful of sandwich, you click on the message to text back, when suddenly the realization hits you.

You had no idea what to wear for the date.

Oh my god, what were you even supposed to wear? Was there some kind of etiquette for this?

I mean, it’s not like he’s taking you to the Hero Gala. It’s just a higher end homey sushi and ramen place, but still.

Pinterest probably didn’t have “cute date outfit ideas for going out with the freaking number two hero” in their search results.

In your mind, you nervously run through different casual but still elegant clothes to wear. Maybe that nice blouse you had been saving, the one with the ruffles on the sleeves? You bite the inside of your cheek. No, maybe your classy sleeveless turtleneck midi dress instead?

Ugh, but you’ve already worn it out too many times last month. Not to mention the current ninety degree weather would cook you alive in that.

You pray that the paparazzi wouldn’t dare to stalk you on your date, but imagine if they did and took a picture of you two?

Caption: Hawks takes girl that never wears anything else out on date.

Even worse, caption: Hawks seen taking girl that can’t dress if her life depended on it out on date.

Nope, not on your watch.

The further you brainstormed, the more each piece of your wardrobe seemed less and less fitting to wear for such an occasion.

An idea pops into your head.

What was Hawks’s favorite color? You could base an outfit off of that instead.

Thinking about it, it was probably red. Hell, if you had pretty crimson wings like him you’d forget every other color in the rainbow.

Should you text him and ask?

After a little mental wrestling yourself, you muster up all the courage you could possibly have on a Monday afternoon.

[12:20]

you

that’s so cute :((((

thank you <3

you

also random but what’s

your favorite color?

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh we playing twenty questions? ;)

you

lol i guess we are ;)

hawks ♡♡♡

hmmm ok then

hawks ♡♡♡

my favorite colors

probablyyy red

you

i knew it

hawks ♡♡♡

oh?

hawks ♡♡♡

been thinking about me

have you, pretty girl?

you

……..maybe

hawks ♡♡♡

you’re so cute when

you get all shy

Your cheeks warm at that, and you physically have to put down your phone for a moment to cool off.

[12:34]

hawks ♡♡♡

my turn

hawks ♡♡♡

whatcha having for lunch?

you

[sent an image]

sandwich :)

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh that looks yummy

you

it is!!!!

you

it’s from the cafe across

the one where i nabbed

your coffee lol

hawks ♡♡♡

ah when fate brought

us together by my overly

sweet latte

hawks ♡♡♡

i’ll make sure to stop by

it after patrol tomorrow :)

you

yay!!! lmk what you think

i want a full review

hawks ♡♡♡

yes ma’am (︶▽︶)7

you

what are you having for lunch?

hawks ♡♡♡

[sent an image]

just chicken lol

Of course he was. It did look good. The fried edges were perfectly crispy, and it was a nice golden brown color and—

hawks ♡♡♡

but i wish it was you instead ;)

you

!!!!!?1!?)$1&1$@-

hawks ♡♡♡

aw, you embarassed right now?

you

YESOHMYHOF???

you

YOU CANR JUST

SAY THAT

hawks ♡♡♡

whyyy nottt

hawks ♡♡♡

it’s true though! :(

you

oh my god i’m going to die

you

and this sandwich is

going to be my last meal

hawks ♡♡♡

noo don’t die

you

i will

hawks ♡♡♡

id miss you :(

you

then know that it

was all YOUR fault.

hawks ♡♡♡

pffft you're so cute

hawks ♡♡♡

wish i could see your

flustered face right now

you

STOP

you

i think i'm going to

have to block you

you

this isn’t good for my heart

hawks ♡♡♡

noooooooo!!!!!!

come backkkk!!

You had to bite back a fond giggle, feeling warm all over. How was it fair for him to be this cute over text and in person?

hawks ♡♡♡

okok but before you block me

which i don’t think you will

hawks ♡♡♡

send me your address so

i know where to pick up the

most beautiful girl alive <3

you

oh u smooth ass mf

hawks ♡♡♡

for you? always

you

UGHHH

fine here it is

you

123-4567 fukuoka, tenjin,

chuo ward, 8-91

hawks ♡♡♡

perfect

see you soon birdie ;)

After an eventful day at work, you’re turned around, glancing at your back in the mirror.

Even though the scarlet dress that falls just below your knees hugs your figure in all the right places, you still feel a little self-conscious in it.

You honestly haven’t touched it since you bought it at the mall with a friend, who insisted that red was your color even when you had wrinkled your nose.

But as you admire the smooth, soft fabric of it now, you can’t help but be reminded of a certain someone’s beautiful wings.

You think you were really starting to warm up to the color.

A spritz of your favorite perfume and slight touch up of your makeup later, you hear a knock on the door to your balcony.

That must be him!

You excitedly unlock the sliding glass, and you’re finally greeted with the sight of Hawks’s signature grin that you missed all day.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you say back, a bit breathlessly.

As if you were the one who flew all across the city just to see him.

He takes the moment to look you up and down, not in a hungry, lustful way like you’re used to when you’re around other men, even when you’re not exposing much skin.

Hawks admires you.

Like you’re a statue of a goddess, made of the most pristine marble. Like you’re a beautiful cherry blossom tree at peak bloom, with the wind serenading your soft pink petals.

Like you’re something so divinely beautiful and enchanting, you deserve to be revered.

“Wow.” Hawks opens his mouth, but no other sound comes out. The bouquet he’s hiding behind his back for you goes limp in his hand.

For a man who never runs out of words to say, he’s been rendered speechless.

There’s a tingle of anxiety at your neck and you’re suddenly a little nervous. “How—How do I look?”

Hawks takes a deep breath, and finally speaks.

“You look absolutely, astoundingly gorgeous.”

Hawks’s lips curve upwards softly when you visibly melt, his touch sweeter than the caramel of his eyes as a hand tips your chin up to meet his warm gaze that the summer heat had nothing on.

“And that’s the least interesting about you.”

─────────

“This is really good.”

Is what you ultimately decide when you’re on the fourth piece of the unagi roll you ordered.

Hawks grins, you looked cute with your cheeks puffed up like that. “Isn’t it? I knew you’d like it.”

You nod while covering your mouth, chewing slowly to savor the delectable taste of the sushi. “I’m literally going to gatekeep this place so hard.”

“Good.” He reaches across the table for your hand with an amused laugh. “It can just be our little spot, then.”

You softly smile back at him.

“Our little spot.”

At that moment, the waiter comes over with Hawks’s shoyu ramen. “Enjoy!”

“Thanks!” Hawks beams at him, then turns his attention to the bowl in front of him.

Then a slight frown appears on his face.

You tilt your head. “What’s wrong?”

His worried eyes meet yours.

“You sure just sushi is enough? You can always order something else, it’s on me.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” You wave a hand. “I’m not really that hungry—“

“I don’t believe you.” A hint of a teasing smile plays on his lips. “Could hear your tummy growling a bit earlier.”

“You heard that?” You whine. How embarrassing.

“All the more reason to share my ramen with me.”

Your eyes widen. “You want me to?”

“I do.” Hawks stubbornly says, picking up his chopsticks to grab noodles with them. He holds them up to your lips, a growing smirk on his handsome face.

“Say ahhh.”

Throwing a quick glance around the restaurant, your cheeks flame. “Hawks!”

“What?” He’s still wearing that casual, shit-eating grin. “It’s just us and a few other people here, c’mon.”

You huff. “I can feed myself!”

“I know you can, birdie.” Hawks holds your gaze with piercing but warm eyes. “But I want to do it.”

You fiddle with your own chopsticks, looking at anything but his eyes.

“Please? Let me take care of you.”

Finally, you cave at his pleading expression.

“Okay.”

He feeds you, and you’re not still not sure why he’s so happy to do so, but you let him.

The owner of the sushi and ramen place laughs as he looks over at the booth you two had occupied a few hours before closing.

As always, there’s a generously heavy tip left on the table and this time a new, small note.

thank you, boss :> we’ll be back!! - h

─────────

It’s summer, again.

Keigo flies you back home in his arms after his patrol and your nine to five, and as you touch down on your balcony, the sky is starting to turn a brilliant gradient of orange, pink and purple as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

His eyes are lidded as he pulls you closer to him by the waist on the couch.

“You like when I’m this close to you?”

In the privacy of your apartment with the only sound being the breeze from your air conditioning and the faint chirping of crickets outside, it’s like the both of you are in your own little world.

“Yeah.” You sound muffled while hiding your burning face in his chest. “You still make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous?” His low voice is lilting as he tilts his head, and pulls you even closer to him with a firm hand now on the small of your back.

Keigo smirks, drinking up the sound of your little gasp. “I’m gonna take that as a yes, little dove.”

You blink dreamily, disorientated by his warmth seeping through his sleeveless turtleneck and the feeling of his firm chest against yours. He was so cozy. “Dove?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause they symbolize peace, and you’re my safe place.” Keigo’s eyes soften at the way you snuggle into him in response. He was yours too, your comfort person. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“Mmm.” You’re resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “Tell me again.”

“As many times as you want.” He leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re perfect.”

You let out a laugh, his breath was tickling your ear. “Kei, why’s your heart beating so fast when you say that?”

“Mm.” He offers you a sly smile, hand tracing circles on the small of your back as you lay on top of him.

“Guess you just do something to me when we’re together, birdie.”

Your eyes start to feel heavy, and you hug him even tighter at that.

“I’m so glad I stole your shitty excuse of a coffee that day.”

And it’s when he laughs from deep within his chest that you know he is too.

— Courtship feeding is believed to function as ceremonial pair bonding. The male bird usually feeds their female mate, and the resulting nutritional boost contributes to more and healthier offspring.

#sorry to all the janets out there xx #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x you #mha fluff #mha oneshot #bnha oneshot

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imaginaryf1shots · 1 year ago

Text

Here For You | Lewis Hamilton

Words count: 1K

Lewis Hamilton X reader (established relationship)

Summery: When Lewis gets a podium and his team is nowhere to be found, but you stand there in a sea of red

Warnings: none

A/N: unedited

it really broke my heart seeing Lewis so alone after the race, the way he sat down waiting for his turn, while Carlando had their teams there. He looked so tired and defeted, thanks to the Ferrari and Mclaren who congratulated him.

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Singapore 2023, Sunday.

What an intense race, one of the best of the season so far. It was so close from start to finish, those last ten laps had you on your toes in anticipation. Leg bouncing up and down as you stared at the screen, Carlos, Lando, George and Lewis were stuck in a DRS train all for P1, George couldn’t overtake Lando no matter what he did. It’s under a lap left when the younger Mercedes driver drives straight into the barrier, your eyes open in shock, everyone is surprised, disappointment on everyone's faces in the Mercedes garage. Frustrated mechanics and just about everyone.

Your eyes don’t leave the screen, eyes on your boyfriend, but as the three round the last turn, he couldn’t overtake Lando, but he’s P3. you’re happy for him, so happy. You feel bad for George, he’s been doing amazing through the race, he was doing so good all weekend, and to end it like this breaks your heart. However Lewis is your number one concern, and he made it to podium after so long, and you knew given one more lap he could’ve overtaken Lando for P2.

Despite having one podium win, the mood in the garage was sombre. Everyone is so upset about George, you bit your lip as you waited for them to go to the barrier under the podium to meet their winning driver but no one made an effort to go and see him, despite them all going to congratulate George the day before when he qualified second.

You’ve been going to races for years, having been with Lewis a long time and every week you had free of work you were in the country he’s in supporting him every chance, sometimes you’d be there for a day or two, never missing an opportunity to be by his side, and you aren’t about to start now. So after two minutes you decided to just leave the garage, ignoring everyone, you couldn’t even see Toto anywhere.

Already Ferrari and Mcalren were at the barriers so you’d have to fight your way to the front. The heat had you a little sweaty as you squeezed yourself between the orange and red dressed people around you, trying to be heard as you moved but your voice fell onto deaf ears under the loud sounds and talking. Lucky for you Fred Vasseur Ferrari’s principal saw you struggling, the older man had talked to you multiple times, he and Lewis are on good terms and talk from time to time. He gestures for his team to let you through, and thankfully you make it to the front.

“God! Thank you so much.” You breathe out, huffing, you’re thankful you decided to have your hair in an updo today, feeling the heat from the crowd around you add to the heat of Singapore.

“It’s okay, it looked like you were about to die in there.” He joked, as you both turned to the front, Lewis was waiting to get weighted, your eyes stayed on him once they found him with a smile on your face as you answered Fred.

“Felt like it.” He laughs and pats your back, you look around the barrier for a moment, once Lewis is on the scale(?). No sign of a single Mercedes team member.

“What are you looking for?” Fred asks, also looking around.

“Mercedes.” was all you said, the man realises the absence of the team which is very odd. Lewis has been the forefront of the team for years, whether it’s a win or not, they should be cheering for him.

Lewis takes off his helmet and balaclava, he doesn't see you though. “Lewis!”

You call but your voice get drowned in the other sounds around you, your saving grace comes in Lando, he was walking to the wait for his interview when he saw and heard you, patting Lewis on his arm to get his attention, he points at you. The moment he sees you, you smile so wide at him.

Lewis also smiles, seeing you, when he got out of the car and couldn’t spot you or any of his team he felt crushed, he’s tired the race has been hard and having kept it together the whole race, doing better than the last few weeks, it definitely dampened his mood not seeing his team here for him. Seeing you now however brought him happiness that he’s grateful for.

Walking you to you, the driver wraps his arms around you, sweat and all, you holding as close as you could through the barrier, you close your eyes getting a tad bit emotional.

“I’m so proud of you my love, you did so great.” Kissing his cheek. Around you Ferrari cheered for you, making you laugh and pull back a little, but Lewis wasn’t ready to let you go yet, he held your arms in his.

“I couldn’t see you when I came in.” He tells you, you give him a sad smile.

“Fred rescued me, was fighting my way through to get to the front.” You say with a small giggle, he once again pulls you in for a second hug. “I love you so much Lewis.”

“I love you too… Thank you for always being here for me.” Lewis says low enough so only you could hear him.

“Always, I’ll always be here for you, you can count on that.” You run your hand up and down his back, hearing Lando do his interview. “It’s your turn soon, I’ll be waiting for you after the podiums.”

Lewis pulls back and quickly picks your lips, it’s rare that he shows PDA but in that moment he couldn’t help it. Lewis is a private man, and he likes to keep anything beyond the surface about the two of you away from the public eyes, so you know that your feed will be filled with edits and screenshots from your moment.

Watching Lewis on the podium with a proud smile you clap and cheer for him, as if it’s your first time seeing him on a podium, celebrating him as if he won a WDC. you couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel so you’d be alone with him and enjoy the night alone, just the two of you.

#lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #sir lewis hamilton #f1 scenario

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whatifitis · 27 days ago

Text

♡ I knew it, I know you - FC 43 ♡

Based off the song: I knew it, I know you by Gracie Abrams

Summary: You and Franco dated but when things took a turn with your career, your world got turned upside down.

Author's note: i was told i should add additional parts to this plot so lmk if that's something you guys would like to see <3

WC: 3309

CW: fights, brief mention of a car crash, a bit of angst i think

You swore to god, you hadn’t thought of him in ages. But there he was, plastered all over social media as a driver for Williams for the remainder of the season in F1. The man who absolutely destroyed you. But you had also destroyed him. You had destroyed each other towards the end of your relationship.

You and Franco dated back when the two of you were in F2 and F3. The two of you had hit it off almost instantly, already so drawn to each other. You weren’t gonna lie, the two of you almost weren’t a thing. You are terrible at not only initiating, but also keeping conversations going. But the fact that Franco was so bold and carefree, he was able to stick with you till you opened up out of your shell, which was truly insane to you. And you’re grateful for him and everything he has done for you, no matter what went down all that time ago.

The two of you were always there for eachother, whether one was winning races or not. You would always scream the loudest when he won. Every single time he was on the podium, you’d be so incredibly proud of him, standing there watching in awe, tears streaming down your face. You’d never met someone so perfect.

He was so different from anyone you’d ever met. He was valiant, hilarious, strong, and so beautiful, on the inside and out. He knew you’d often struggled with your mental health and maintaining relationships, whether platonic or romantic. But he stayed, he actually stayed, through all your faults. He loved you anyway. He was the best thing that ever was yours.

But now it’s like he’s on another planet, you wonder how the weather is there.

While you were proud of him for making it to F1, you still couldn’t help but feel a bit of annoyance. The two of you would often talk about the future together. The plan was always to work your asses off and make it to F1 together. He was gonna be the first Argentinian driver in ages, and you were gonna be the first woman in ages to drive in F1. During this time, you guys were gonna save money and buy your dream home together. He’d always wanted a big patio where you two could do barbeques together, where he could bring his family. He also wanted a pool where everyone could enjoy their time together, away from the cameras and chaos.

But now those dreams are just that. Dreams.

The breakup wasn’t necessarily mutual or on good terms. Franco initially wanted to work things out and talk but you didn’t think it’d fix anything. Things were already getting rocky as your racing career was coming to an end. After a bad accident all those years ago, you weren’t able to get back in the car. And for that, you were so angry. Racing was all you could do, you didn’t have a backup plan. Your anger got the best of you and you were taking it out on those around you. Franco got the worst of it though wanting to do his best to help you, but all it did was make you feel pitied.

Things just kept spiraling from there, til you officially ended things with him.

It was the night after the F2 race in Monaco. You had been there the whole weekend, cheering on all your friends. You were making your way to see Franco but you were stopped by a journalist. You weren’t really in the mood to speak to a stranger but you decided it wouldn’t do any harm to stop for a minute or two.

The journalist was a young man, about your age and a bit taller than you.

“Hello, thanks for taking a moment to speak with me.”

You simply smile at him, still not feeling all that sociallike.

“I just wanted to ask you a few questions, if that’s alright.”“Sure. Hit me.”

“My first question is, how does it feel to have had to drop out of racing due to your crash back in Australia?”“Oh well, you know, it didn’t feel great. I’m super disappointed in my performance from that day and of course not being able to race again has been a big struggle. I miss it a lot, but there’s nothing I can do now besides keep going. I’m still gonna come to some of the races and cheer on and support my friends.”

“Amazing. Now, how does it feel to know you won’t be the next woman in Formula 1? To know that you’ve essentially let down so many women, young and old, with you leaving the sport?”

You were honestly baffled by that question. Why the fuck would he ask that? Who in their right mind asks that?

You seriously had no words, so you simply nodded your head and walked away.

When you reached Franco, he could practically smell the rage emanating from you.

“Amor, what’s wrong?” going to touch your arm, before you quickly pull away.

“Nothing. Let’s go.”

Your shortness with him wasn’t new at this point, so he stayed quiet till you guys reached your flat.

Once you guys had walked in, he was quick to ask what happened at the track that led you to be stomping around with smoke coming out your ears. You told him everything that happened with the journalist, and he was nothing but sorry that something like that had happened to you. He knew how hard your transition was into a life without racing.

“Baby, I know things are hard right now, but we can figure it out. This isn’t the end.” Franco tried to reason with you. But all you could see was red, feeling an intense pressure and heat in your chest.

“You don’t even get it. My career is over, everything I’ve worked towards is gone. I have nothing left.”

Your words hit Franco, like a knife. You had nothing left? What about him?

“There are so many things you can do. We’ll find something that works for you. Stop being negative and actually try.”

“Fuck you. I am trying, you don’t understand how hard this is. Everything’s working for you. Your life is perfect and amazing. Stop pitying me. I’m not a child.”

Somewhere in the chaos in your mind, you had lost all sense of where you were and who you were talking to. All you knew was that you were screaming everything you felt.

Your mind was racing, you weren’t making total sense.

After the race today and having dealt with you these past few months, he was tired. He wasn’t gonna coddle you and go easy on you anymore.

“Well you’re sure acting like one. You need to grow up. Shit happens and you have to deal with it. Not everything will work out in life, you just have to deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say. Your life is perfect and you have everything you want.”

“If I had everything I wanted, then I wouldn’t have a girlfriend who’s giving up. I’d have a better girlfriend.”

What? Did he really just say that? I hate when we fight, sucks when we fight.

“I can’t pretend I’m sorry, when I’m not sorry. All I’ve ever done was my best when it comes to you and us. Unfortunately your girlfriend is awful.”

You looked him in the eye one final time, “Get out. We’re done.”

“That’s it? You’re gonna give up so easily?” he lets out a huff, “Typical of you to give up, again. Let me know when you’ve grown up.”

With the slamming of the door, he was gone. That was the last time you saw him.

After a few days of radio silence from you, Franco felt abandoned. He’d already felt lost when you told him to leave, the second the door slammed closed, he almost went back in through the door to fix everything. It felt as if you didn’t care about his feelings, like he’d been cut a thousand times. Franco actually struggled to keep it together. He didn’t realize how much he needed you in his life. He didn’t realize how he depended on you, on your support, your touch and how it kept him sane and stable when everything around him was just pure chaos.

It was hard for him to race after that day. And words could never describe how his heart hurt when he got called up to F1, when he got a seat. He immediately thought of you, he was living your dream after all - he couldn’t even share the experience with you, you weren’t by his side anymore. You were gone.

Until now.

Since that day, you have been working on yourself. You were in therapy now and continuing school to become an engineer. You thought, maybe since you can’t be in the car, you could work around it or with it. Things had been looking better. You started to surround yourself with love and support from your friends and family.

You were on a work trip in Texas, helping a company work on a new up and coming project that could be innovative, when you got a call from an old friend. Oscar had seen through social media that you were in Texas, and invited you to see the race at COTA. When he initially offered the invitation, you almost didn’t go since you didn’t think it’d be a good idea, considering how you and Franco had left off. But it had been years, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You would be able to go and support the rookies and maybe make up with Franco.

It’s not like you didn’t feel love for him anymore. Maybe you two could work things out and get back to where you were. So you told Oscar you’d be at COTA.

“That’s great! I’m so glad you’ll be able to make it. It’s been so long and I’m sure Lily would love to see you too.” “Omg, I’m so excited to see her again! I’ve missed her so much.” “Yeah. So, I’m sure you’ve heard. Franco is driving for Williams for the rest of the season, so he’ll be at COTA. Will you guys be able to keep it civil if you run into each other?”

“I can. I’ve lived a lot and I’ve let the rain in since everything. It’s just a matter of how he’ll react.” “I’m not gonna lie, I think he’s been waiting for an apology from you. Er, at least he did for a while.” “Yeah, he deserves one from me. I was pretty shitty to him, I know that now.”

“I’m glad you were able to sort everything out on your end, hopefully you two can be friendly again.” “Maybe. I gotta go, Osc. Talk soon.”

“Talk soon.”

The amount of various feelings flowing through your body was making you physically shake. You were excited, nervous, happy, and everything mixed into one.

You pull up Franco’s contact, thinking it’d be better to reach out and arrange a meeting rather than bombarding him at the track.

You must have typed and deleted about 50 messages before settling on a simple “hey”

Franco didn’t expect to see your name show up on his screen. He chuckled bitterly at the irony of life, bringing you back onto his path after being the one to send him away. He doesn’t even know how he feels about you anymore.

“Hey” he replied

“How are you?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“I’m okay”

Three minutes pass, you simply just stare at the screen, not knowing how to proceed. You watch as three dots float on the corner of your screen.

“What do you want?”

Damn, harsh much?

“I was wondering if you wanted to meet up sometime this weekend? Oscar invited me to watch the race and I thought maybe we could talk. I think I’ve calmed down since the last time we spoke.”

“Sure. I don't know when exactly I’ll be available but I can text you closer to the weekend”

“That sounds good. Thanks for being cool about this.”

“No problem, see you soon.”

He was quick to cut the conversation. Maybe he's just busy. You decide to put your phone away and focus on some work stuff.

The weekend comes around quickly and you find yourself wandering around the paddock alone. You weren’t able to make it Friday, but at least you’re here for qualifying. You managed to get a few minutes with Oscar and Lando, catching up a bit before they had to get ready for qualis. You made your way to where you were gonna watch the race, texting Franco at the same time.

He was letting you know he’ll be able to meet up with you after the race today. You were so incredibly nervous because you wanted things to work out between the two of you. You missed him. He was your best friend, and you guess that was the worst part of losing him. If he just said when, you’d play again because you felt more in brief moments with him, than with anyone else.

You sat down and watched the qualifiers, screaming and cheering everytime one of your boys passed someone or did something impressive. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed this. Watching and cheering on your friends from the sidelines. It felt good to watch them achieve their dreams, even if you couldn’t reach yours. Franco ended up in P6, which was impressive considering he’s only raced a few times in an F1 car, and he’s in a Williams car.

After about 20 minutes, Franco texted you, letting you know to meet him in his driver's room. You made your way to his room after getting lost for about 8 minutes, when someone eventually felt bad for you and pointed you in the right direction.

You walked up the steps to his room, standing there for a minute, nervous about seeing him. It’s been about 2 years since you last saw each other. You wonder if he looks any different now. Of course you’d seen his pictures around, but sometimes the cameras don’t catch certain things. Like how his eyes are essentially a kaleidoscope of everything you’ve ever loved, how his nose crinkles a bit at the bridge when he’s happy.

Fuck it, enough stalling. You knock on the door and wait there for a response. After a minute, you don’t hear one so you assume you didn’t knock loud enough. You raise your hand to knock again when the door swings open. When it opens, your eyes quickly find his.

He looks deep in your eyes, trying to find a glimpse of the past in them, a recollection of the memories you shared together, but it’s like you’re not there anymore. Sure, you’re standing right infront of him, but the you that he knew, the one he fell in love with, is missing.

“Hey” he said softly.

“Hey”

You two stood there in silence for a moment, sort of processing that you’re seeing eachother again in person. As if your brains are trying to decipher whether this is real or a hallucination.

The silence breaks when Franco shakes his head and clears his throat,

“Come in.” he says, holding the door open for you.

You walk in, brushing past him.

The room is spacious, quiet, yet suffocating.

You walk to the middle of the room, feeling a bit self-conscious. Turning back to face Franco, you watch as he closes the door and turns his body to you.

“So’’ he says.

“So”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to catch up, see how you’re doing. A lot has changed since the last time we saw each other.” you look down, swallowing a gulp before continuing, wringing your hands together, “I also wanted to apologize, for everything. The way I had acted all those years ago, especially towards the end. I wasn’t being fair to you and all you wanted to do was be there for me.”

“It’s fine.” he replies, leaning against a counter, crossing his arms over his chest, not giving you an ounce of emotion.

The burning sensation he feels in his chest now isn’t love anymore - instead it’s a mixture of pain and anger, feeling a riot form in his emotions. He’s wasting time on listening to someone who kicked him to the side without caring about how you had let him down when he needed you the most.

Well, you didn’t know what to expect, but it surely wasn’t that dry and short answer.

“That’s it? I came all this way to come and see you and apologize, and all I get is ‘fine’?!”

“I said ‘it’s fine’ actually.”

Why was he being like this? You get that you fucked up a lot and that you had hurt him, but if this was how he was going to act, you weren’t sure if you wanted to continue this conversation.

“Why did you even agree to talking to me, if this is how you’re gonna act?”

“How am I acting?” “Like you don’t give a fuck. Like you just wanna gloat, see how badly I was doing. You don’t know how to step outside yourself.” “You think so little of me? It’s not my fault you can’t sit with the hard thing.”

“Well when the proof is in the pudding then yeah. Are you even sad about the fact that we don’t talk anymore? That all we had is gone?”

“I’m not the one who ended things, you were. You’re the one who ruined us.”

“I blew all my plans, just to get to talk to you today. I’m trying to fix everything that I broke but you’re not letting me.” “Maybe you aren’t trying enough.” he says as he pushes off the counter and walks towards you, stopping a few inches from you. Close enough that you can feel each other's breathing.

“Not trying enough? Or not enough for you? For your deluded self?”

“I’m not the problem here, especially considering I’m the one driving in F1.”

“I should be the one with this chance, not you! All you have is an inflated ego and your shallow thinking.”

“I was the one who worked my ass off to get here. I’m sorry you couldn’t join me in this like we had planned, but it’s not my fault that things fell this way.”

“I should be in your seat, not you!”

“No, you don’t deserve this seat. I actually put in the work to be here.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I earned my way through those races. I was one of the best.”

“Keyword: was.”

“You know that crash stopped me from driving. I can’t get back in the car.” “Can’t or won’t”

“Can’t”

“No, you’re just a fucking pussy. You’re too scared to get back in the car cause you know you can’t do it. You can’t amount to anything.You know that even if you get back in the car, you’ll never get a seat in F1.”

You stand there for a beat. You never knew he could be so mean. Maybe you brought it out of him.

It’s all your fault. You’re the problem.

You feel the tears threatening to spill. You take a breath before saying, “I thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn't lose.”

He looks you up and down, lip twitching, “I guess I lied. I had the wrong idea about you.”

An all too familiar sight, his back, as he walks out the door, again, because of you.

You really thought you would get what you wanted. But what did you want?

#f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto angst

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lixzey · 23 days ago

Note

No one's ever had me not like you

✨ give me a scenario + character for headcannons!

First off happy birthday!

Can I have Evan Buckley with a daughter of Bobby reader? (Totally not projecting my 911 DR right now)

Like relationship headcanons and date ideas and all the fluff please and thank you!

Because sometimes squishy is a 30+ man

Take care of yourself!

what if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind?

evan buckley x nash!reader headcannons part one!

• I firmly believe that the two of you would be a grumpy x sunshine kind of trope. A slow motherfucking burn kind of romance, if I do say so myself.

• The day he arrived at the 118, he immediately tried flirting with you. “Hey, miss?”

• The look on his face when you told him your name was priceless!

• Buck definitely tried to get on your good side the minute he found out you were the captain's daughter.

• Bobby was a bit skeptical of letting you dive into intense...fires, you know? because of the fear of losing you—his only surviving family—was bugging him. you didn't know what you were thinking, but you said: “Don't worry dad, Buckley's here to protect me, if I ever—God forbid—need it.”

• Which, Evan Buckley unfortunately heard, of course. “Protect you, huh?” Buck teased, grinning at you so annoyingly smug. “Didn't know you thought of me so highly, miss Nash.”

• From that day on, Evan motherfucking Buckley made it his personal mission to annoy the hell out of you. Why? Because he thinks you look cute when you're mad.

• The two of you argue over the smallest things, it actually drives Hen and Chim crazy because the two of you ask them who's right and wrong.

• Speaking of Chim and Hen, they are 100% done with both of you. You two haven't even been at the 118 for a year but it sure feels like it with all of the bickering. You would always rant to Hen about Buck's annoying antics “That...that fucking grin of his- Ugh! I swear to God, Hen, one day I'm just gonna snap and pretty sure I'm gonna murder him, and you are helping me dispose of his dumb ass.” and Hen just chokes on her coffee, looking at you with wide, terrified eyes. “Sorry, what?”

• Meanwhile, Buck is yapping to Chim about your cute annoyed little pout. the poor guy has heard buck ramble on and on

• Your dad has had to pull you away from evan multiple times per shift, seems like you inherited his temper.

“Is she always like that, Cap?” Buck asks with an amused chuckle as he watches you stomp away with your arms folded over your chest like a child throwing a tantrum. Bobby sighs, giving him a stern look—more like an exasperated one, Buck couldn't really tell.

“I'm afraid she's got fire,” Bobby placed a hand over Buck's shoulder, causing him to tense slightly. “Think you can handle more?”

Buck stared at Bobby, like he'd grown another head or two. “M-more? what do you mean, more?”

Bobby raised a brow. “I thought I heard you tell my little girl you'd protect her?”

• After that little moment with your dad, Buck literally started protecting you. A fire? He’s pushing you away with a big ass smug grin on his face. “I got this,” God, that annoying grin of his was getting on your nerves so badly, you almost hit him with the line hose once.

• The arguments went on and on, of course. Buck would often tease you about being, well, a damsel he loves saving. And you’d always clap back that he’s an annoying peasant that should bow down to you, because you’re no damsel, but a queen.

�� Cat and dog, the nickname the whole 118—including your father, unfortunately—gave you and Buck, much to your complete, absolute, annoyance.

• You’ve always viewed Evan Buckley as this manwhore, annoying, little shit starter, but when he fails to save a person in a roller coaster accident, your views change drastically.

• He has a heart, and you saw first hand how everything affected him. Which honestly gave you flashbacks when…your mother and siblings died and you couldn’t do anything.

• You helped Buck with the guilt he felt, and it somehow made him feel better. It was also the very first time he saw you smile at him, easing his worries even for just a split second.

• Sometime later, you and your father didn’t show up for work. Buck was worried—terrified, almost—because all of his texts and calls were left unanswered. You always answered texts, even before when he was still the annoying douchebag, you answered. Turns out, your father was relapsing with his alcoholism, and you were reliving the past trauma.

• You were a mess when Buck and Hen arrived at yours and your dad’s place. You had been trying to get your dad to come out of his room, but all of your efforts were in vain. It was like you forgot that you were a trained firefighter, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything aside from calling your dad’s name from outside his bedroom door the way you did after the loss you and your father faced.

• As soon as the apartment door opened, Buck immediately came running towards you, not even letting Hen get to you first to check you out for any injuries or whatever. Evan Buckley just wrapped his arms around you, and you broke down crying like a little girl, holding onto him for dear life.

• After Hen got your father sane, you and Bobby recalled the day of the accident, which honestly gave Buck a better insight of you. From that day on, somehow, you and Buck became friends.

• Do not get me started on Abby Clark.

• You hated her, but you wouldn’t admit it (Hen definitely noticed how your face would contort into a look of disgust whenever she was mentioned.)

• And Buck just HAD to date her, aka creepy old lady.

• The look on your face was absolutely priceless when Buck invited her to Chim’s welcome back party. Let’s just say the poor cake you had didn’t deserve the stabbing.

• And him going on a DATE with her???? That Chim and your father took holiday duty for?????

• Technically, it wasn’t Abby’s fault that Buck choked on a piece of bread (you were mad and worried, but you still laughed a little-) but you still blamed her (you are not a girl’s girl when jealous- is that what it was?, that’s for sure.)

• As Buck, well, pushes through with his new relationship, you grew a bit distant with him, which confused the fuck out him because he thought you were friends. You had to assure him that yes, you were friends, but you also had a life of your own. Funny, because you just sulk in your home every day because of, well, you know.

• You tried meeting other people. It was weird, to say the least. When Buck found out, he almost choked on his water (see what I did there?). At least your dad is on the road to finding happiness again.

• Okay, so let’s do a quick uno reverse.

• Eddie Diaz, the new guy, who caught Buck’s attention. Why? Because he was a bit too chummy with you for his liking.

• And there you two go again, arguing like petty middle schoolers.

• You were siding with Eddie with everything, with infuriated Buck so bad he wanted to bang his head on the gym equipment.

• Because what the fuck did you mean when you told Eddie he should join the freaking sexy firefighter calendar????? Was he not sexy enough for you????? Bro was having a midlife crisis at this point.

• Buck constantly judged everything Eddie did, and it was getting on your nerves, to the point of-

• Okay so, long story short, Buck and Eddie become friends after you snapped at them during an argument. The way you shut Buck up completely was honestly amazing, because he literally said “Yes, ma’am.”

• And then you and Buck finally meet your new godson, Christopher! Buck was a sweetheart, honestly, you loved seeing him interact with him.

• Everything was fine, until this reporter came in.

• God, you hated those cameras. You wanted to punch them and her for constantly being in your space.

• On the bright side though, you now have a new mom: Athena! And a new friend, aka Maddie Buckley, Buck’s big sister! You love hearing stories about Buck from her, and you consider her as your new favorite person.

• Speaking of Maddie, when her deranged ex-husband kidnaps her, you helped Buck find her, despite your dad and new mom’s protests.

• When the 118 was targeted by this bomber (you wanted to strangle the kid with your bare hands) you were absolutely torn. Buck’s legs were crushed by the fire engine caused by the explosion, to add salt to the injury: you and your dad were the MAIN targets.

• Even though Buck was in immense pain, all he could think about was you, only you.

Buck screamed in pain, his legs trapped under what felt like tons and tons of weight, but when he saw you, crawling towards him, somehow everything in his body felt fine. You were now his main concern.

“Y/n- ah!” Buck screamed out in pain, struggling to reach his hand out towards you. “A-are you- ah! Okay?”

“Buck!” You cried, taking his hand in yours, desperately trying to push the damned heavy truck off of his legs. “Someone help! His legs are getting crush, for fucks sake! Help me get this thing off of him! Someone!”

• THE WAY YOU FUCKING CURSED THE LITTLE FUCKER WHO CAUSED THE EXPLOSION-

“Let my friends go, you stupid dumb fuck! It’s me you want, right? To get revenge on my dad? Let them go! They didn’t do shit, you stupid brainless son of a bitch! Let them go! I swear to all the deities out there, I personally escort you to hell! I will drag your corpse straight to motherfucking satan if you don’t let my friends go right this goddamn instant!”

• Way to get someone’s attention though, because of that your dad got the upperhand (Bobby was surprised by your vocabulary, though).

• You held Buck’s hand while the people around you helped to get the truck off of his legs. You tried your best to soothe his pain, despite your own broken arm (Who cares about your arm? Hell, you don’t even care about yourself, the only thing that mattered to you then was Evan Buckley).

• You were there by his side when he got to the hospital, and refused to leave. Athena and Bobby had to talk to the hospital staff to let you stay, because there is no way in hell you were leaving him.

• You comforted Buck when he was told that his injury was severe, and that he might need to consider another career. You glared at the doctor, whilst holding Buck’s hand tightly in yours.

• Five months after the accident, when Buck was finally cleared (oh, so you all thought-) you were absolutely happy and your mom and dad could see that. Pretty sure from that point onwards they knew you had feelings for Buck because when he coughed up blood, you were the first one to respond and do shit.

• After finding out he is no longer cleared to go back to work, Buck quits the LAFD and starts spiraling. You ask Eddie if he could bring Christopher over, to cheer him up—which helps, thank God. You and Buck bring Chris to Santa Monica, for a bit of well-deserved relaxation, almost looking like a little family (Buck may or may not have thought about that-).

• You and Buck almost had a moment, standing so close to each other, barely and inch separating both of your faces, AND A FUCKING TSUNAMI RUINS THE GODDAMN MOMENT.

• Even after being injured only months prior to the tsunami, Buck put yours and Chris’ safety first. Jesus, the man could RUN with you and Chris in his arms.

• The three of you managed to hold onto each other for a while, with you practically refusing to let go of Chris—maybe it's the trauma of losing your younger siblings, or something else—like he was your lifeline in all of this shit that was happening around. Same goes with Buck, but it’s mainly you who’s anchoring him down. The way the both of you almost lost your minds when Chris got separated from you was honestly crazy, Buck had to hold you by the waist so that you wouldn’t swim through the running waters in search of your kid, even though he wanted to do the absolute same. The breath the two of you breathed out when you saw Christopher safe and sound, looking for his ‘Buck and Y/n’, oh, you almost cried on the spot if you weren’t so dehydrated from helping throughout the stupid tsunami. Eddie couldn’t thank the two of you enough for putting his son first in a calamity. At this point he owes you and Buck his life.

• When Buck decided to sue the department and city for wrongful termination, it caused a rift not only between the two of you, but with the whole team. You were mad at him, because was it wrong to think about his safety first? It was actually you who suggested it to your father, in hopes of helping Buck get the medical help he needed first before finally getting back into the workforce, but he took it the wrong way when you and your family tried explaining it over dinner.

• You and Eddie decide to ignore him, even though it pained the both of you because Buck was your best friend, the only person you and Eddie trust in this world to have your backs and everything. Now, the two of you had to rely on each other now.

• When the team encounters Buck at a supermarket, you snap at him. Giving him a dose of reality he needed to hear. No one could stop you, even your own father could as you lashed out on this man, who you only wanted the best for. This little interaction leads to his reinstatement to the team (Partially, as everyone is still mad at him, until Eddie, Hen, and Chim finally forgave him). Yet, you still avoided him at all costs because of how much he hurt your feelings with all the shit he pulled. You still went with your dad though after finding out that Buck was in the emergency room (still acting mad, but in reality you almost had a heart attack when you found out.) You quickly left when he said he was fine, much to the confusion of your father, since you were so adamant on coming with your dad to see if Buck was alright.

• Okay, so after that little stint in the emergency room, Buck is now a regular in your life again, as he is now a full member of the 118 again without any restrictions whatsoever. Which made it harder to avoid him, since you still felt a bit, well, heartbroken. Honestly, you were so confused with your own feelings, you thought it was better to stay the fuck away or else you would have punched him in the face the minute he initiates small talk or whatever. Buck tried everything to get you to talk to him, or at least yell at him or something since it was his and your thing, where he’d annoy you and you’d snap at him for being a little shit who won’t take no for an answer. Hell, he even got Eddie, Chim, and Hen on board (begrudgingly, might I add, as they do not want to invoke your anger, really.) with his plan. Like, them purposely taking seats close together and leaving seats opposite of each other or side by side for you and Buck to take with no other choice. It was torture for Buck more than it was for you, because he missed you.

• Eddie, Hen, Chim, and Maddie are absolutely tired of hearing Buck talk about you. Like, if they hear one more word from him, they’re either banging their head against a nearby surface or taking an ungodly amount of alcohol or coffee to be able to cope with this whining from Buck. At least they aren’t hearing from you. You practically detached yourself from them (they’re honestly worried, especially Eddie, Hen, and Chim), you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but it was working in terms of being left alone.

Okay, let’s get to Christmas!

• After learning that Christopher isn’t happy about spending Christmas without his favorite people—his father, his Y/n, and his Buck—you feel a bit guilty, I mean, all three of you are. You’ve just been so…busy? With your father’s health being on the line caused by hazardous radioactive material, you were just so stressed. You’ve already lost one parent, and you were not going to lose another. Athena was your rock during all of it, and she was the only person you’d talk to about your mind and heart messed up by someone named Evan Buckley. To relieve everyone’s worry, Athena and Buck managed to throw a Christmas party at the station for everyone. You loved the party, getting to spend time with your family was the best thing you could ever ask for. You felt a bit like yourself again, but there was still this longing ache inside of you that you couldn’t shake. God, it was annoying. Because deep inside, you knew this longing was something else. Who knew stolen glances between the two of you would feel like this?

• In the middle of everyone mingling at the party, Buck managed to pull you aside (downstairs, but yeah), and surprisingly, you didn’t pull back. It was as if his touch was your vice and you couldn’t get enough.

“Uh, hi?” Buck awkwardly smiled at you, scratching the back of his neck as if he was in high school trying to ask a girl out for the very first time, though, you highly doubt that he was like that during his years as a high school student with the personality he had. “Are…are you enjoying the party, so far?”

God, is this what the two of you have reduced to? Cringe worthy small talk? Jesus Christ, what the fuck?

You gave him a little smile, pulling your hair to the side, trying to hide the growing awkwardness—more like something else—that you felt deep in your bones. “Yeah, it’s…fun, really. I’m glad you and Athena thought of this, it’s quite thoughtful of you to think about everyone.”

A nervous chuckle leaves his throat, his eyes meeting yours after all of those secret glances in the middle of the crowded party. “I’m glad you liked it.”

The two of you stood there, face to face, your heart beating uncontrollably inside your chest like a machine gone haywire. Sweet baby Jesus, how on earth does Evan Buckley’s presence make you feel…stuff like this?

And then, Buck took a step forward, standing a few inches away from you. He was so close, but you still felt so far from him. Without thinking, you took a step forward, meeting him halfway, with only a few centimeters separating the both of you, his breath hot on your cheek as the two of you locked eyes like those romance movie posters. God, why is he so tall? You were already on your toes just looking at him.

“Hi,”

“Hey,” Buck laughed, finally closing in the distance between your bodies, your lips almost touching, sending a shiver down your spine as you placed your palms onto his chest, feeling his heart beating the same way yours did. He then wrapped a strong arm around your waist, and then he kissed you.

And you kissed back.

God, is this what love feels like? A warm, fuzzy feeling spread all over as your body kissed the living daylights out of you, devouring you like it was the last day on earth and he wanted to make it last at least until everything faded into the cosmos or whatever. A moan escaped your throat as Evan picked you up in his arms, like one of the kisses in those cheesy romantic comedy movies. Somehow, everything about this felt absolutely right. Everything made complete sense now, Evan Buckley was your true north.

You could have stayed like this forever, wrapped in his arms as the two of you hungrily made out like two lovers separated by war, but all fantasies have their limits. Maddie and Chim spotted the two of you, and well, it left you and Buck, rather breathless.

Evan Buckley tasted like heaven and hell, intertwined in a perfect storm of love and admiration that made you craving for more. Fuck, how the hell does he manage to make you feel like this?

If it wasn’t for Maddie and Chim standing there, you would have gone for seconds, thirds, maybe even fourths, fifths, and so on. You were in too deep with him now, but Evan Buckley was already far deep down that hole—having realized that he’s been in love with you for the longest time.

After that breathtaking kiss, you and Buck quickly ran upstairs, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Anyone with functioning eyes could easily decipher what just happened, the smudged lipstick was already a dead giveaway.

“Looks like someone finally got the courage to ask the girl out!” Hen grinned, placing her plate down onto the table. “I won, pay up everybody!”

“What?” You asked, your eyes wide with disbelief. “You bet on us!?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Chim answered, taking out ten dollars out of wallet. “I’m not even mad at losing the bet. Hell, I’m absolutely over the goddamn moon for the both of you! It’s about fucking time you two got together!”

You stared at him, your cheeks tinted pink, either from the kiss of your life, or the embarrassment you felt. “God, are we that predictable?”

“Yes, you are.” Your father laughed, walking towards you, Athena following suit. “We’ve known for quite a while, darling.”

“Dad!” You looked at your father, horrified. “You knew? You actually knew, knew?”

“Oh, baby,” Athena placed a hand on your shoulder, motherly as always. “Your father knew the minute you complained about Buck.”

“You complain about me, huh?” Evan gave you a teasing grin, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “How mean of you, miss Nash, you wound me!”

You glared at him. “Shut up, Buckley.”

“Make me, Nash.”

“How cute!” Maddie gushed, loving the way her baby brother looked at you like you were the only person in this crowded area. “Buck’s finally happy, I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“He’s finally found his match,” Chim chuckled, watching you and Buck argue like children, which was almost endearing to see. “I’m just glad that I won’t be hearing Buck whining again.”

“Hey! I do not whine!”

“Yeah, you do.” Eddie said, patting Buck on the back. “You’ve been whining about Y/n not-”

“Shut up,” Buck grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully. “We get it. I was a whiny baby because of my beautiful, amazing, girl who never fails to make me crazy with her.”

• And just like that, you and Buck are finally an official couple with Bobby and Athena’s blessing (Bobby gave Buck the protective father talk, let’s just say Evan Buckley would be an idiot if he hurt you in any way possible, he'd personally beat himself up if he ever did so.)

• Evan Buckley is a simp, I say this lovingly. Like: “Look at my beautiful girl!”, “Hey, you see that? That’s my woman over there!”, “Isn’t she just amazing?”, “I love her so much, it hurts!” Eddie, Chim, and Hen have escaped whiny Buck, but now they have to deal with an in love Evan Buckley.

• He keeps a photo of you practically everywhere. In his wallet, locker, phone, the bac of his phone, his name plate thingy where the gear are, EVERY FUCKING WHERE.

• Pet names!! This man loves to call you a bunch of tooth rotting pet names like sweetheart, bunny, my love, lover, baby girl, princess, sweet pea, darling, my beautiful angel, honey, angel baby, love of my life, queen of my heart, the flame in my heart and a shit ton more. Buck definitely beat the record for cheesy pet names.

• Buck loves seeing you in action on the field, like “That’s my girlfriend, you suckers!” kind of vibe. But he does step in when the situation gets dangerous for you.

• Dates. DATES. Dates!!! Evan takes you on a date every day off from work. Honestly, he specifically asked Bobby to give him the same days off as you so the two of you could spend time with each other and have fun (but not too much fun - protective father Bobby Nash).

• Your favorite activity to do with Evan is definitely cooking!

• Okay so, remember Jeffrey Hudson? Yeah, him. Buck is absolutely terrified that you’d be his next victim. After everything that happened with Athena, he fears that as an act of revenge towards your step mother, he’d kidnap you and….let’s just say Evan never had peace of mind after that.

• Because of said fear, Evan asked you to move in with him, with Bobby’s blessing, of course. And you said yes! Living with Buck felt so natural, the domestic kind of life felt nice. I mean, the two of you weren’t only just playing house, but it’s kinda like a preparation for what’s to come.

• Remember Abby? Well, Buck doesn’t care about her anymore. In fact, during the rescue, he told her “My wife and I are going to do everything to rescue your fiancé.” Him calling you his wife???? MADE YOU MELT!

“Wife, huh?” You grinned, fixing your harness for the rescue operations. “I’m flattered, Buckley. But where’s my ring?”

“I-uh, you know I just said that-”

“I know, baby.” You kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, my future wife.” Buck smiled, kissing your forehead.

“That’s more like it.” You giggled, tugging on your straps to make sure they’re safe and secure. “Come back to me, alright?”

Buck nodded, placing another kiss on your temple. “Always. You stay safe, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, Evan!”

“I love you too, Y/n!”

• When Maddie announces that she and Chim are expecting a baby, you and Buck were so excited! Auntie Y/n and Uncle Buck for the absolute win!

• When Buck and Maddie’s parents came to visit, you stood by your boyfriend, holding his hand because you knew everything about his childhood and that he was seeing a therapist for it. And when the secret about their older brother was revealed, you were Evan’s rock—the only person he knows that would never lie to him.

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley headcanons #evan buckley 911 #evan buckley imagine #ellie's 22nd birthday!! 🥳

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7s3ven · 10 months ago

Note

can you please do poseidon/reader and she finds out luke is the lightning thief?

THE GRUDGE. luke (pjo)

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N can’t forgive Luke for his crimes despite loving him more than she loves herself.

“I know in my heart hurt people, hurt people. And we both drew blood, but, man, those cuts were never equal.”

Warnings : spoilers, small angst (in my opinion lol. I’m more sensitive to family/friendship angst, not relationship angst), short(ish) oneshot

A/N : to any other writers, do you ever act out the situations you’re writing so you can write a better descriptions of reactions and then you realise that you’re actually a good actor?

Because I literally just acted out Y/N’s reaction and either I’m great at fake crying (which has been a talent of mine) … or my heart-wrenching sobs were real 😨. Also, the song one of us from the Lion King suits Luke perfectly.

—

The life of a half-blood wasn’t easy, especially not when you were a forbidden child. Y/N flipped through her fashion magazine, aimlessly swinging her legs as she lay on her front. “Y/N.” Luke called out, pushing the creaky door open. She lifted her head, staring at him curiously.

“Hey, Luke.” She smiled at him, clasping her hands together. He grinned back, slowly walking over to her side.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. With Percy, her half-brother gone, she was alone in her cabin. Again.

Y/N gazed at him through her lashes. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m fine.” She whispered, reaching out to grasp his wrist. Luke bit the inside of his cheek.

“I have your phone.” Luke uttered, handing Y/N her device. Phones weren’t allowed in camp but Luke found a way around that, much to Y/N’s happiness. She had spent far too long in the mortal world to give up scrolling through social media.

“Thanks, love.” Her pink-tinted lips curved into a soft smile. “You have no idea how much I need this now that Percy is gone on his quest. It’s so lonely here.”

Y/N always hated being in her own company. Her cabin got messy and she never had the motivation to clean it. She was thankful for Luke because he always helped her with the mundane task that should have been easy, but not for her.

“No problem, princess.” Luke lightly kissed her forehead while she laughed. “I can’t wait until Percy is back because I have a feeling that things are about to change.” Nothing good lasts for long. Y/N, more than anyone, knew that. She stalked through the thick vegetation, harbouring a heavy sword. She had heard rumours of Luke… and she needed to confirm it for herself, even if it meant endangering her safety.

“Luke.” She called out, her voice shaking. She didn’t want to believe the rumours but Luke was unpredictable. Ever since returning from his quest, he hadn’t been the same.

Y/N had been at Camp Half-Blood for longer than most and she had seen demigods come and go, desperately searching for glory but never finding enough of it.

“Luke.” She said again, repeating it like it was a mantra that would save him from the terrible fate he had chosen. She dragged her sword against the ground, her eyes scanning for the slightest bit of movement amongst the trees.

She sighed, thinking of returning to camp before she spotted a flicker of orange. "Luke?" She whispered, but he still heard her. She stepped towards him, breathing heavily.

"Luke... what... is it true? Did you..." Y/N couldn't find the right words. "What did you do, Luke?" She asked, grabbing him by the front of his shirt when she noticed how he avoided her gaze and how his eyes looked so guilty. "What did you do?!"

"I did what I had to, Y/N. The gods... they don't care about us." Luke stiffened as Y/N glowered at him, her eyes filled with so much rage and hate and sadness and everything in between.

"You're wrong, Luke!" She exclaimed, harshly shaking him.

"I'm not like you, Y/N! My father doesn't care about me. Yours might give a shit about you but that doesn't apply to anyone! Look around you. Poseidon ignored Percy for years while nurturing you. My father abandoned my mother and I when he could have helped us. Ares hates Clarisse for being a girl and forces her to train harder until she collapses. They try so hard to find every little flaw in us that they ignore what we've done for them."

"But why this, Luke? Why betray us? Me! You betrayed me, Luke! And all your friends and family! Hermes may not give a shit about you, but I do! I have loved you since we first met, Luke! I fucking love you and you betrayed me!" Y/N slammed her fists against his chest, screaming until tears welled up in her eyes. "What did you do to Percy?" She muttered, her voice barely even a whisper. "Tell me. Tell me now and I might spare you! Please… please.” She hiccuped, her hits growing weaker.

Luke wheezed as Y/N gripped his throat for a split second. "He'll be fine... he only got stung."

"I hate you." Y/N seethed, rage engulfing her soft heart until it spilled out and poisoned her body with its toxins. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you! Gods, I hate you, Luke! Fuck you! Fuck… you!” She screamed, the sound echoing around the empty trees.

But she still couldn't bring herself to stab him. "Get out of here, Luke. Go! Leave! I never want to see your face again!" Y/N's voice shook as she shoved Luke away from her.

Heart-wrenching sobs slipped past her lips as she pointed an accusing finger at Luke. "The gods have fucked up, Luke, but you are no different. Maybe you had the right idea at first... but you went with it the wrong way. And it cost you everything. Don't go near Percy again. Don’t you dare touch him ever again! You don’t deserve his kindness! Don't even look at him because I promise you, if you do, I will drive a stake through your heart!” Y/N's confident voice faltered for a moment. She shakily inhaled. "I hope you're happy with yourself." That fated day still haunted Y/N's mind. She often had nightmares about it, where things turned out different had she stabbed Luke. She always woke up with a loud gasp, covered in a light layer of sweat.

On her nightside table, her phone rang. She hadn't been using it much since Luke left. She slowly reached for it. Nobody had her phone number except her close friend, who lived in Tokyo, her cousin, and... Luke.

Her heart was beating unusually fast as she shakily turned the device over to peer at the screen. Her stomach churned and she dropped her phone in horror. Percy was in the infirmary, still recovering from the pit scorpion attack. She was somewhat thankful for that.

She let the phone ring, letting out a sigh of relief when it finally stopped. But it started again, and again. Until on the third ring, she finally clicked the green button.

She didn't say anything, flinching at the sound of Luke's voice. "Y/N? Y/N. Thank goodness you picked up! I knew you weren't going to answer my iris message so I was hoping your phone was working."

Y/N cut Luke off from his ranting. "Luke... don't call me again."

"Wait, Y/N. Please listen to me. I love"-

She hung up before he could finish. She stared at her phone, gripping it tightly. With a guttural scream, she threw it across the room. It landed safely on Percy's bed and a part of her was glad that it did. It was one of the only things she had left from Luke.

She didn't know if she could ever forgive Luke for betraying her trust. And the worst thing was that she still loved him from the bottom of her heart. "You good?" Y/N quietly walked towards Percy, helping him sit up. He groaned.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about Luke... I know how much he meant to you." Percy's eyes softened as he stared at Y/N, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"He, uh... tried calling me last night." Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line.

Percy tilted his head to the side. "So what'd you do?"

"I ignored him until the third time... then I hung up after I told him to stop contacting me."

"You don't have to be so tough all the time, Y/N." Percy uttered, pulling her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her waste and she sighed.

"I really want to scream, Percy. I just... can't believe he could do that so easily. I mean, leave us... leave me. I'm trying not to care and I'm trying to say I'm fine but I can't let it go." Tears welled up again, dripping down the red apples of her cheeks.

Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t tried to figure out why Luke did what he did. She tried to piece everything together but it only hurt her head and heart to think.

After ensuring Percy was comfortable, she stepped outside. The camp was in utter chaos after Luke’s betrayal and they were trying to find more spies amongst them. Most people suspected Y/N because she ran into the woods to confront Luke and she was closely associated with him, which didn’t help. But she loved her friends and she could never leave them as Luke had.

She wandered into a small clearing, dipping her hand into a cold river nearby to calm herself. She didn’t even notice someone was watching her from behind until they cleared their throat.

With a panicked gasp, Y/N looked over her shoulder. She was expecting a fellow camper, maybe even Luke, but not Hermes in all his glory. The pair stared at each other for a minute before Hermes finally broke the awkward silence.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He hesitatingly pointed at her, worried he had the wrong girl.

She nodded.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to see after Luke left.” Hermes started off, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“Luke is the last person I want to see.” Y/N retorted, “You’re second on that list.”

“He really did like you, you know."

“It wasn’t enough apparently.” Y/N shrugged, already accepting that she could tear Luke from his fate, “Maybe I deserved the betrayal… but not from Luke. He practically made me into the person I am. I guess he wanted to see how high he could build me before I fell. He had everything yet he still wanted more.”

“He cared about you. Dare I say, Y/N, he love”-

She cut him off just as she had cut Luke off. “Don’t say he loved me because if he did then he wouldn’t have done this! He… he wouldn’t have done all this!” Y/N choked on her words as she bit back a sob.

“He still loves you. Not loved. Not past-tense. Never past-tense. I’ve seen him, you know. He misses you and for a while, he tried to contact you in every way he could just so he could hear your voice. Even if you were screaming at him. I know that in another life, he wishes he didn’t have to leave you behind.”

“There shouldn’t be another life!” Y/N exclaimed. Getting angry at a god was dangerous but she was so frustrated and angry and hurt. Hermes didn’t seem to mind. He nodded his head, understanding her emotions. “Don’t you get it? You also have to take the blame. You’re part of the reason why he betrayed us!”

“He’ll forgive me eventually.”

Y/N shook her head. “No. You and every other deity thinks that your neglected child will forgive you but they might not. They might forgive but they will never forget. If I can’t even forgive the boy I love with all my heart, how do you think Luke will ever forgive you?” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Forgiveness takes strength." Hermes whispered, barely loud enough for Y/N to hear. "Luke is much stronger than I originally thought and you, the mighty daughter of the sea god himself, are too.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/N shrugged as she stood up, brushing the dirty off her pants. “I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“It takes time.” Hermes said, “Meanwhile, I would suggest answering that.” He pointed at her phone that was ringing in her hand. Y/N didn’t even notice with how distracted she was.

She briefly looked down at the screen and raised her head again, her lips parting when Hermes was nowhere to be seen.

She hesitatingly pressed the accept button and raised her phone to her ear. She heard him quietly gasp, surprised she even answered again. “Luke… hi.”

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dusterbishop · 3 months ago

Text

have you come here to rescue me (all of this can be broken)

summary. || three timelines, you have watched remy lebeau die. you didn't believe you would earn a fourth chance to save him until you find a variant with no memory of his past, lost in a void of existence.

pairing. || gambit x f!reader (past relationship with current enemies-to-lovers)

count. || 2.7k

notes. || posted on ao3 here. warning for character death and violence. thank you for all the kind comments and likes! i'm happy i could share this with such a talented fandom.

part one. || part two.

You and Gambit meet before, eh?

Many times

Mais, pleasure’s mine, chér. Gambit’s never forgotten a beautiful woman

You draw your next card at random, and find yourself flat on your back, the back of your head still slick with the blood that pools beneath you. The hit from behind splintered your skull, but this body merely festers with a fading migraine. It is the closest you could get to avoiding death without skipping from this reality entirely. The pain has to keep you anchored, because you can’t count on Gambit to know what to do to keep you here.

Gambit, for his part, stares down at you. He looks like your Remy, which seems like such a strange thought to have. Of course he looks like Remy LeBeau. That is who he is in every lifetime. And yet it makes perfect sense that you halt upon this revelation for the very same reason.

Every Gambit is Remy LeBeau, and yet this one looks like Remy. He has the same strong jawline, the same furrow of his brow, the same black-rimmed red irises. He towers over you, the line of his shoulders set back and perplexed, at least until he crouches down to be closer to your level. Every movement is fluid, graceful. No sign of pain or hesitation. No snarl of distrust or blank expression of disinterest.

Found ya’, chér.

You would laugh if the back of your skull wasn’t just recently smashed in, new body or not. The daze of death’s lingering touch keeps you still as you stare back up at him. He had promised you would meet again, hadn’t he? In another lifetime, at least, he had. You are not the same body that he had been in love with, and yet some part of you can still smell the smoke in the air and feel the buzzing of kinetic lightning across your skin.

He is not your Remy. Not even if he’s looking at you with that same curious intensity. Gamblers could never refuse the call of the cards, and you have a stacked deck.

“Watch it, Cajun,” you tell him. Your voice is scratchy, grating the back of your throat. That explains the weariness in your joints, then. This version of your body is sick in some way. “I know how to wave a stick.”

A knowing laugh escapes him. “Oui, saw ya’ wit’ it. Don’ threaten Gambit wit’ a good time.”

Right, the flirting. Of all the swamp-dwelling boys you could have ended up entangled with, you just had to choose the one with that damned silver tongue. This version of Gambit is no different than the thousands of others you have witnessed in terms of that, at least. Perhaps thousands was even a conservative estimate. How many times have you crossed lives only to find a stranger wearing the face of the man you love?

God, you’re tired of it all. You don’t think you can handle another Gambit right now.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you sigh. “I’m not staying long.”

“S’il vous plait, you should.” He’s smiling, but you know that look in his eyes. Your gaze falls to the inner folds of his coat. You can barely make out the stitched lining where he keeps his cards, but you know that its there. He always had a habit of stitching the pockets in the same spot. Your Remy liked to command full control of the kitchen table to spread out his coat and ensure straight stitching. The cats liked it, too. You would come home to find them all clustered at the table, Remy idly scratching Oliver’s chin while he assessed his work, the other two boys stretched out languidly with them.

Gambit notices your attention, and his smile goes flat. “Where’ve you been my life, eh?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back. The fatigue starts to settle deep in your bones. Maybe this body wasn’t sick when you borrowed it. Maybe this is just the effects of your time-skipping leeching over to another form. Your body feels like its burning a low-grade fever. “I don’t want to argue with you, Gambit.”

“Argue?” He looks almost offended at the mention of underlying tension. “Mon chér, you wound me. Dis is a civil conversation, non?”

“Don��t you get tired of talking?” You know he doesn’t. The two of you have spent so many hours sparring both in the danger room and verbally. He likes to make you take the backfoot in both fighting rings. At least, Remy did. This Gambit seems… off.

He almost seems familiar.

“Not when I’m talkin’ to you,” his smile edges with that coy charm. “Why don’ you tell Gambit about your travels?”

It feels like dunking your head beneath tumultuous ocean waves. Your gaze jolts to his eyes. His biggest tell had always been the way his pupils expand, consuming the ringed red of his irises. In some light, at some times, it almost looked as if he didn’t have irises at all. Just an all-consuming gaze of ink-black.

He looks that way, now, staring down at you. Black-eyed and smiling like a rogue, his elbows perched idly on the curve of his crouched knees, hands freely dangling between you. Unarmed, almost, if not for the weight of cards pressed against the cuff of his sleeves. That brand of stitching is new. Your Remy would have been absolutely delighted to see that sort of innovation as much as he would have groaned about not doing it himself.

“Ace up your sleeve,” you say instead. Your head is rattling with a desperate panic. How does he know that you can travel?

Gambit flicks his wrist, the air rushes, and a splayed set of cards stare back at you. Four of a kind. A handful of aces, in fact. Your Remy would be in absolute stitches over it.

“Some, oui,” he says. He looks just as pleased with himself. He always did like to be the smooth-talker. The air whirs with quiet trepidation, charging, turning metallic in the back of your mouth. One of his brows raises the same moment you half-raise your arm, reflecting the same suit of cards back to him. His fingers reluctantly slide closed on empty air.

“So do I,” you tell him. You hold steady when he goes to take them back from you and nearly yank your arm out of reach when his fingers close over your wrist instead. He’s wearing his gloves, but even the slight warmth of his skin pressed against yours makes your mouth go cotton-dry.

“Houdini,” he remarks.

“Not quite,” you whisper.

“Non,” he agrees. He studies your hand for a long moment. The cards are his, of course. You had shifted time just enough to reach across it and claim your prize. Nothing more than a parlor trick in the light of what you have done lately. What is a suit of cards in the face of endless, staggering realities? If you don’t like the way a restaurant cooks a dish, you can cross time until you find the same dish cooked to mind-numbing perfection. If you miss the city bus because it showed up three minutes early, you can change lifetimes to delay the driver by five minutes, the extra two minutes only for good measure.

If you lose one Remy LeBeau, why not venture out to find him again?

And again?

And again.

You know the answer, now. Maybe part of you always did, yes, but the answer is staring you in the face. You cannot ignore him any longer. You cannot skip timelines and pretend that there will never be a Remy like yours again. He was yours because he was not perfectly brought up as a child and ended up with some nine-to-five office job and a three-bedroom home with a white picket fence. That Remy does not have an interest in a strange paradox such as yourself. Neither does the Remy LeBeau that ends up being a schoolteacher, or a stay at home dad, or a volunteer at an animal shelter.

Your Remy was imperfect, and that was why he was the only version of himself that you could love.

This version of Remy LeBeau is still holding onto you. His grip is firm, but not bruising. He’s holding you fast to keep you with him, not to hurt you. You’re too tired to attempt to escape. Every muscle in your body feels leaden and overworked. That’s the other answer demanding your attention, but you let the revelation slip from its leash and ignore it.

“I know what you are, chér .” His grip doesn’t change, but there’s a dangerous riptide swelling in his tone. “What you do.”

“Wayfarer,” you say. It feels flimsy to say it like this, laying flat on your back, Gambit poised gracefully beside you. Remy had been rather nonplussed with the title when you first told him about it. Non, mon coeur, you are Wildcard. Not even Gambit knows your next move.

“You travel, d’accord?” With the hand still holding you fast, he rubs the calloused pad of his thumb against the rapid flutter of your pulse. It’s nearly enough to make you flicker out of time itself, consequences be damned. His next words are a wistful purr. “You can leave.”

You aren’t sure why the surprise that lances through you hurts so much. Of course, he isn’t your Remy. You know this. He may smile and banter and touch you as kindly as Remy does — as he did, past tense, it’s all beyond your grasp now — but that does not make you something for him to cherish.

It does, however, make you something to use.

“I am always here,” you start, settling into this waltz slowly. This was the other part of your existence that used to confuse Remy. Some part of you hardly understood it, either. You don’t know how every part of a jet plane or automobile works either, though, so it doesn’t phase you much anymore. You had tried to explain it with the T.V. analogy, like your other versions were playing on different screens even if you aren’t tuned in, but that only served to confuse him more. He did enjoy your choice of explanation in some way, at least, by fully indulging in references from his favorite T.V. shows. The conversation had derailed into you hitting him with a pillow, and then you had both unraveled into a different sort of banter.

Not that Remy ever let you get the last word, though. Tuning the channel, he had said seriously, as you had writhed beneath his touch in a breathless rush. Smart-mouthed, smooth-talking swamp boy.

“Some part of me stays here. A variant,” you continue. Gambit waits, those slivered-red irises trained intently on your expressions. How strange to have him staring at you with such suspicion. You could never lie well to Remy LeBeau no matter the version you stumbled across. You could hold back, yes, but he would always know anyway. You have learned to stop hiding from him. It is inevitable that you will admit your life to him in some way, either by choice or by necessity.

“I am here,” you say. “Like I’m sitting in a coffee shop in Paris, reading the morning newspaper, playing the crossword. I can see the empty grid in my head. I know the clues.”

There’s a familiar furrow in Gambit’s brow. You’re suddenly glad he’s holding your hand before you end up surrendering to the urge to reach out and smooth it away. Not your Remy. A touch from you is not the sort he hungers for.

“Paris, eh?” He presses his thumb to your pulse. You wonder if he feels the leap in your heart beat at the touch. “Wha’s got you wandering da Void, then?”

“I didn’t choose to be here,” you admit. “I got… reset, I guess. My mind went to the next version of my body available.”

“Reset sounds awfully dire, I t’ink.” He gives you a pointed look. “Wha’s got you?”

For one long, awful moment, you almost tell him the terrible truth. You almost tell him that you went looking for a version of him that was familiar enough to soothe the gaping hole in your heart. That you found a Gambit that was witty and kind despite his shitty upbringing, one that liked to make you laugh and could keep up with the practice drills you still put yourself through. A Gambit that wasn’t afraid that you would one day vanish and be replaced by some version of yourself that he didn’t love.

You want to tell him that you found a Gambit that you had wanted to keep safe, and he was shot in the back trying to do the same for you. You tore yourself apart to take down the men that did it to him. You died with him and you still woke up within one breath and the next. You had to wake up and hear his voice, except this is not the Gambit that died because of you, this version does not know what he holds onto so tightly.

You want to tell him that three other versions of Remy LeBeau died just as terribly, and you just keep spinning the roulette wheel, and you just keep living.

“That version of me died,” you say. “Shot in the stomach.”

He’s looking at you as if he has never seen such a phenomenon. You suppose, technically, he hasn’t. He used to be one of the lucky ones that didn’t know you even existed. There goes that winner’s streak.

“Do’ya have t'die to… reset?”

You think about lying again. God, you wish you could. “Not always.”

He raises a brow at that, but you don’t offer to elaborate. Instead, you let the cards in your hand release from this reality with a soft whir of energy. Your head feels stuffed with cotton, or perhaps rocks. Maybe this is your mind finally burying itself alive in rebellion of your time-skipping antics.

“Tell ya what, chér.” His fingers loosen their grip on your wrist only to tangle with your own, intertwining your hands. Your breath catches. It’s the only split-second warning you have before he hauls you up to your feet, one hand entangled with yours, the other supporting the small of your back to keep you balanced. You have to shut your eyes against the vertigo that thunders in your head.

“Don’t die,” he continues. “Paris ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, hein? No reason to go dere.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” you grit out. You think you might throw up. Or pass out. Your free hand grips onto the lapel of Gambit’s coat hard enough for your fingers to grow stiff. His hand on your back is a solid, anchoring weight. It supports you more than you would like. Relying on him could be a dangerous game.

Still, your power is a raw, aching nerve burning through your veins. You couldn’t switch without tearing yourself apart, not as exhausted as you are. Considering that this Gambit hasn’t driven a knife into your back, either literal or figurative, it’s easier not to resist when he makes a soft hum and sweeps you into a bridal carry. You keep your eyes closed, and try to ignore the burn at the back of them. A part of you waits for his sound of pain, the impact of bullets thudding into his back. Another part wonders if he will be vaporized from existence by the TVA, just a second before your hands meet.

The third, quieter part of your mind just thinks: Remy.

Gambit, the fourth ace in your suit, doesn’t do any of those things. He adjusts your weight, testing to see if you will squirm out of his grasp, then he begins to walk. He’s strangely quiet. It’s almost a relief in the wake of your draining, familiar conversation. How many times will you have to reintroduce yourself to a Gambit? What could you possibly offer this fate-curious, battle-wary version of the man you love? It’s the sort of question that makes you reconsider your choice to stay.

Stay with a Gambit with ulterior motives, or move on to another life with no guarantee of who will meet you there? Well. When you put it like that, there’s no other option at all.

And, as if he can read your mind, Gambit begins to explain.

#gambit #remy lebeau #gambit imagine #xmen imagine #gambit x reader #remy lebeau x reader #gambit x y/n #gambit fic #remy lebeau x y/n #d&w #dp3

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marshmellowzz · 2 years ago

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HIII! I wanna be the first one to request on your blog(I hope I am😭😭) YOU DIDNT HAVE IN YOUR RULES,HOW MANY CHARACTERS YOU CAN REQUEST AT THE SAME TIME BUT I'D LOVE TO HAVE KISSING HEADCANONS(female reader) WITH MUZAN,GYUTARO,DOUMA AND AKAZA!! Thank youu :))

Uppermoon Kissing Headcannons 💞

A/N- Hi anon!!! I'm really sorry about the character request limit thing, I'll fix that right away. and yes! you are the first person to request, thank you lovely! i had a lot of fun with this request! I really hope you like it <3 (^з^)-☆Chu!!

Muzan:

Very rarely gets romantic with you, but oh boy when he does...

Muzan is a megalomaniac, he has a very inflated ego and a delusional sense of self worth, he sees no value in any life other than his own, so naturally, he even surprised himself when he took interest in a human—a lowly being like yourself. You are EXTREMELY lucky that you even caught his attention, and because of that he feels that he is entitled to you, he is your ultimate superior, your god, you should be groveling at his feet and thanking him for bestowing his affection onto you. From the very moment his eyes set on you, your fate was sealed.

Even so, he is a man that you've come to love, and because he's had many wives in the past he is extremely adept, and he knows exactly how to get you head over heels in love with him.

He is a traditional kisser, he's more into deep, heavy kisses to show intimacy. Although sometimes his kisses seem more demanding and rough. In short, he wants to show you what he really wants - he wants you to be his.

You are always left breathless and flustered no matter how many times he kisses you.

It gives him great pleasure to watch you gasp and pant as you desperately try to catch your breath. It makes him feel empowered, as he could go on for hours and he'd still be okay.

He'd probably be the one to initiate the kisses, that sense of superiority and need to exert power in any situation shines through in your relationship, he will kiss you when he wants to kiss you, and that's final.

Whenever he's in the mood he'd grab your cheeks and pull your face closer to his, until eventually your lips are feverishly against each other.

He'd grab your hips and pull you closer to get rid of any distance between you two, he wouldn't be very touchy-feely, but if he's in the frame of mind he'd be more teasing — squeezing your ass, rubbing his hands along your waist and hips, fondling with your breasts, etc.

Although he doesn't really like PDA, he is a very possessive man, and will sometimes bring you to meetings and kiss you in front of his subordinates to make clear that your his, and his alone.

Gyutaro:

His behavior would initially be extremely hesitant. He would pull away from you, insult you, mock you, whatever he could do to scare you away.

He would be very convinced that you were trying to tease him or were making fun of him.

Gyutaro is not very fond of himself. He usually compares himself to others and greatly envies/despises those who are fortunate or possess things that he longs for. Standing next to Daki, he has grown accustomed to being the unattractive sibling -- he just never imagined being loved the way you love him.

Daki doesn't help the situation very much either, she'd probably be reinforcing Gyutaro's thoughts of himself, she'd be like "Big brother, don't kid yourself! Y/n's probably just messin' with you!"

The truth is that he doesn't understand why you like him. He thinks it's silly when you compliment or lean in for a kiss, it's hard for him to accept that you're attracted to him, and at times he thinks you're trying to 'save him' or 'bless him'.

"Your pity doesn't matter to me, stupid girl."

Yeah...It'll be hard to convince him that you truly like him, and he probably wouldn't show you much affection initially.

After some time, he will grow to love your touch and kisses, even if they are small. It gives him comfort to know that you are not bothered by his appearance.

Gyutaro is more sloppy when he's kissing you, he completely abandons any rhyme or reason and simply lets his body take control.

He's newer to kissing so he might be a lil' inexperienced and inconsistent (please be patient with him he's trying 😭)

Sometimes he'll miss your mouth and plant a kiss on your cheek instead, he plays it off well, most times you don't even notice.

Gyutaro's kisses are more gentle and relaxed, he values a passionate kiss more than a harsh one.

It's difficult for him to express his tenderness, so he appreciates it when you initiate the kiss.

He's a sucker for knuckle and hand kisses. He has cold hands and he gets really blushy when you kiss his knuckles or try to warm up his hands.

The reason Gyutaro prefers small pecks and short kisses is not only because he finds them most comfortable, but also because he also struggles to commit to a long and sensual kiss because he is afraid you'll leave him and abandon the relationship you two have built.

If you want him to settle in and feel comfortable, you'll need to give him a lot of reassurance. At times he will pull himself away or withdraw from any affection; he does not believe someone like himself is worthy of your touch or your gentleness.

He likes PDA but only because you're something he can show off, you are like a boost of self-esteem for his emotionally-constipated-self, he likes to flaunt that even someone like him managed to bag a diamond like you.

Gyutaro loves cuddling and kissing, he loves being able to hold you close to him and just all around touching you, he's a very touch-starved individual—he will seize any opportunity he gets to feel your skin against his.

Douma:

Oh goodness...

Douma is definitely the most affectionate among them, which is ironic because under his carefree and outwardly friendly air the man is clinically apathetic, the concept of emotions being completely foreign to him, his love for you would be more of a source of amusement for him—something that he can play and toy with.

The only reason he kept you alive was because he found you pretty and grew quite fond of you.

Let's start off by saying that...Douma has zero concept for personal space, like...none.

He's always holding you, he loves placing you on his lap and just kissing you as he pleases.

His kisses come in wide variety and he gets very unpredictable at times.

For example, sometimes Douma places light and feathery kisses on your face, gently peppering them all over your face. Just cute small pecks!

He'll probably wait about ten minutes before jumping you and pulling you into a slow and savory kiss, the kind that always leaves you breathless.

Like, what happened to 'hello'? 'how are you'? 'my name is...'? what happened to that...?

He's extremely handsy as well, whether it's gently cradling your cheeks, his hands running down your inner thighs, or simply cupping your breasts in his hands. He just can't keep his hands off of you, you're too adorable!

He's very flirtatious and he loves to tease you, he just loves to see you get flustered or embarrassed.

"What's wrong, dearest? Cat got your tongue?"

Douma's favorite type of kiss would definitely be the French kiss, he likes the tongue work involved, he loves the sensation of his tongue on yours and he feels that it is very intimate.

Douma completely spoils you rotten, he buys you tons of chapstick flavors and colorful lipsticks and then kisses you to test which one tastes the best.

If you think he only does this in private then you are sorely mistaken.

In uppermoon meetings, Douma may just spontaneously invite you to a steamy make-out session just to annoy the rest of the group.

He's a sucker for PDA, he isn't jealous, he just wants to show you off. You are one of his most polished gems, and there's just no way he's going to keep you hidden from the world, he wants everybody to see your beauty.

Akaza:

He's probably the most appropriate and sensual with his kisses.

Akaza would also be hesitant with kissing. He is not a gentle man in the slightest, and he cherishes strength and takes pride in it. However, emotionally, as much as he wants to deny it, he is weak.

Akaza also has a weak spot for women, he'd like to tell himself that he doesn't eat them because they're simply helpless beings, but in reality the man cannot bring himself to harm them.

Generally, Akaza's kisses are deep and meaningful, his kisses have a lot of raw emotion behind them, and he doesn't just pass them around like they're charity.

It takes him an extremely long time to trust, he believes that showing love also showcases vulnerability, and he needs to be sure that you're going to be as committed as he is.

Although, once he falls, he falls HARD.

His kisses are a good representation of that. Akaza doesn't mind quick pecks, but he isn't a huge fan of them, he prefers to draw out his kisses for as long as he can. He lets his lips linger on yours, his arms tenderly wrapping around your body as he pulls you close enough that your foreheads lightly bump against each other.

He's a firm believer that the lips is the most intimate spot to kiss, he likes to kiss you there the most, and he likes it when you do the same for him. He wants to let you know that only you have access to that spot, and that you've gained a permanent spot in his heart.

Akaza is not one for PDA, he dislikes it and often avoids doing even the littlest things like holding hands or quick kisses in front of anybody. He feels that those are reserved for when you two are in the privacy of each others company. Not only that, but because he has an image he needs to maintain.

Akaza isn't unnecessarily handsy, but he's not afraid to get all touchy-feely with you.

Akaza also quite enjoys forehead kisses, he thinks it's a good way to show care, and affection. He uses it as a way to tell you 'I've gotcha,' or 'you're safe here,'.

An all around very sweet kisser! He uses it as a way to express how much he loves you without saying it out-loud.

4K notes · View notes

miley1442111 · 4 months ago

Note

HEYY I WAS THE ONE WHO ASKED FOR THAT FIC WHERE RAFE HAD TO CHOOSE IT WAS PERFECTTTT SO MUCH MORE PERFECT THAN I WAS EXPECTING!!! THANK YOU SO MUUUUUUUCHHHH YOU SAVED MY LIKEEEE!!!!!

So... Since you saved and now im already in dept with you can I ask for another one??? Pleaseee!! If you dont like Its ok just ignore and If you feel uncomfortable IM SORRYYY.

It would be something like, Rafe gets into a fight as always and then the reader, his friend tries to break the fight and then the other person fighting Rafe says something like "YEAH LISTEN TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND/THEYFRIEND" and like every single person on the vicinity goes dead silent because everyone know you guys like each other but didnt realized yet and EVERYONE is scared of Rafe and also both of you have a partner, whos RIGHT there and will for now on live with the knowledge that: Since Rafe and Reader met, every other relationship they would have would be the runner-up.

Maybe Rafe and Reader trying to prove everyones wrong by sticking to the partners but its undeniable how the two are good for each other, how the always serious and scary Rafe looks like a normal funny happy guy when hanging out with the Reader who also goes from a quiet apathetic person ta burning sun.

Sorry this os too long 😭😭😭😭😭

Also i typed that listening to Entombed by Deftones

Byeee love youuuuuu

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

waiting game- r.cameron

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

a/n: welcome back light of my life anon. ur too cool i knew u listened to deftones bc only cool people can. thank you for requesting :)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, male oc x fem! reader, rafe cameron x female oc

summary: i suggest you look at the ask

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is a bit of a fucking prick to Ava and reader, rafe is confused and a dick, cursing, underage drinking, drinking, suggestive mentions, reader is going through it, rafe is a crybaby, violence, creepy guy (I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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

Rafe watched as you crossed the busy dance floor, two drinks in hand. Usually, one of those would be his, he was your best friend after all. But in recent weeks, you’d been becoming friendly with a pogue named ‘Elijah’. He hated him, seriously, he did. He was a piece of shit in Rafe's eyes, and somehow that made you like him more.

You and Rafe had been friends since you were little kids, and you’d always brought out the best in each other. When Rafe was around you, he wasn’t a lunatic with raging anger issues and a god complex, around him, you weren’t the shy, quiet girl everyone knew you to be. It worked well, and you promised each other that you’d never bullshit each other. That meant; he’d never lie to you, and that you’d always tell it to him straight. It worked, and it worked well.

So well in fact, that people usually assumed you were dating.

Years and years of being told by your respective friends and family that you two should ‘just date and put the entire island out of its misery made the idea even less appealing, at least to you. You always wanted to do the opposite of what you were told, and that meant never even thinking of Rafe in a romantic sense. Obviously, Rafe never thought of you like that either. He didn’t think about how sweet your lips would taste, how well you two fit together, how you brought out the best in him, or how much he loved you being around. He’d never think about how good calling you ‘his girlfriend’ was when he had to fend off assholes at the bar. He’d never even mention how good it felt to know he was your first kiss, and how you were his (courtesy of you two being very drunk 15 year olds).

He never thought about any of that. That would be weird, right?

So he stood, his new girlfriend, Ava, hanging off of his arm as he watched you sit in Elijah’s lap.

“Rafey,” she whined and he winced. He hated that name. “I’m so drunk!”

She’d had a beer and two vodka lemonade’s he’d made with about one shot of vodka between the two, she wasn’t drunk. Ava was the perfect kook princess, and she was driving him crazy, but Midsummers was in three months, and his dad told him he needed someone respectable. That’s what he’d told you when he asked for candidates, though he must’ve failed to mention the way his dad asked him to bring you.

“Ava, go sit down then,” Rafe shrugged her off of him. “I have to go talk to someone, ok?”

“You’re seriously leaving me here alone?” Her face formed a frown, but Rafe couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck.

“Yes,” he answered before walking off to find you.

The last couple of months had been very freeing for you. You’d finally gotten over the crush you’d had on Rafe for years, and you were finally out having fun and really dating for the first time. You had your friends, and Rafe finally stopped scolding you like an old man every time you went out with the pogues, you made friends with more people from the mainland since you’d started to go to college there, and Rafe had a girlfriend, so he wasn’t constantly with you, making your crush come back. It felt good. Elijah was hot, and all you really wanted was to fuck someone, and he’d do just fine. Dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and if the semi he was sporting underneath you now was any indication, he was do just fine in the ‘fucking’ department.

“So what are you studying?” he asked, taking another sip. The mixture of drink and smoke in the air made your head spin in the best way.

“Journalism and English lit,” you answered, pressing your hand against his chest. “You?”

“Maths,” he answered and you laughed.

“That’s unexpected,” you chuckled. He looked like he was a surfer boy, not a maths major. His dirt tank top, worn-in swim shorts, and salty skin. He was hot. He laughed with you as his hands travelled lower, grabbing your ass, and you didn’t even mind.

“I know, right?” He smirked.

“So why did you pick maths?”

“I’m good at it,” he shrugged. “And I got a scholarship.”

You nodded. “So can you do like, any maths question?” You knew it was low-hanging fruit in terms of flirting, but you really weren’t in the mood for trying very hard. It was late and you were pretty drunk.

He nodded nipping at your lips with his own. Your conversation was long forgotten as your finger ran through his hair and he groaned into your mouth. He was a good kisser, despite his wandering hands, which were either on your ass or tits, but again, you didn’t mind.

He pulled away with glazed, lust-filled eyes. “You wanna get out of here?”

You nodded, then pulled him back in to kiss you.

“Y/n!” Jj’s voice rang out in your ear, and he started to tap you hard on the shoulder. “Eli!”

You pulled away, annoyed. “What?”

“Rafe is beating the shit out of one of Eli’s friends, can you talk him down please?”

“What?” Eli asked. “Who?”

“Josh,” Jj answered. “Let’s go Y/n, before Rafe kills someone ideally!” Jj said it in a sing-song voice to mask the truth in his words. Rafe had come very close to seriously hurting people before, and every year he was just getting stronger (thanks to his gym addiction and never-ending rage).

You reluctantly got off of Eli’s lap and ran behind Jj as he led you to the scene.

Rafe was beating the shit out of Eli’s best friend, Josh and he was not looking good. He was trying to fight back, but you could tell he was close to tapping out, though you also knew that Rafe didn’t do ‘tap-outs’.

“Rafe!” You shouted as the circle of people silenced. “Stop being a fucking idiot, get off of him!” you grabbed one of his arms, angry now. Your nights were always getting ruined by Rafe, especially recently. He had no right to pull shit like this, it wasn’t fair that you always had to clean up his messes.

“Yeah exactly, listen to your girlfriend!” Josh spat.

The circle of people watching went dead silent, and phones stopped recording. Both you and Rafe froze. Josh dropped to the floor, and Eli walked him off without sparing you a glance. The moment was frozen, and you were stuck in place, staring at Rafe's eyes.

Rafe could always tell how you were feeling but he couldn't now.

And it scared the shit out of him.

After another moment of confusion and being frozen, you looked after Eli, and tried to walk after him, but Rafe grabbed your arm.

“Can we talk ab-”

“No! You fucking asshole! Did you really need to ruin tonight for me? Seriously? Go fuck yourself Rafe!” You cursed, then turned to the crowd around you. “Rafe Cameron is not my boyfriend, nor will he ever be, the shows over folks, fuck off!”

And with that you ran off to find Eli and Josh.

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

Rafe was searching the party for you. You weren’t where Eli had been before, and he wanted to talk to you, to drag you away from that piece of shit.

In all honesty, the past few months had been a very confusing time for Rafe. He’d started college (only because his dad asked him to), he’d gotten his first long-term (3 months so far) relationship, he’d gone off drugs for the most part, he’d started feeling things for you.

His best friend.

Not that he hadn’t realised it before, but you were just so… you. So gorgeous, so smart, so funny, all of you. It was proving to be an issue, so he’d stopped hanging out with you so much, at least until he could figure out what was going on. He was about 99% sure his feelings were platonic, because everyone felt this way for their best friend, right? Obviously. Totally. Maybe?

He crossed the dance floor, only to be met with the face of Josh, Eli’s friend. And he was talking about you.

“Yeah, Eli’s got the only fucking hot girl here,” He smirked. Rafe hated how he smirked. He hated how he looked. He hated everything about this man, the one he’d never even met. “I’ll ask him if he’ll share,” he laughed like a sleazy piece of shit, and so did his friends.

“Excuse me,” Rafe tried to move past them, but Josh grabbed his arm.

“Oh shit! You’re the boyfriend,” Josh chuckled and Rafe didn't correct him. “Sorry dude, she’s all mine tonight.”

And that’s when Rafe’s right hand made contact with his face.

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

Rafe stood there staring dumbly at his bloodied and bruised hands. You’d never spoken to him like that, ever. Rafe knew he could fly off the handle, and he knew it annoyed you when you had to fix everything for him, but you’d never complain. Tonight. Tonight, it finally boiled over and you shouted at him. Like he was anyone. Like he wasn’t your best friend, your Rafe.

“You ok?”

Topper’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Rafe’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears and it was taking a lot of willpower to not scream and try to break something, or sob and run after you.

“Fine,” he said, letters over-punctuated as he rolled his eyes, looking up to stop the tears from falling.

“Rafey!” Fucking Ava. “Did you get into another fight over me again?” She sighed, faking anger. He knew she didn’t give a fuck if he fought, she only cared about what the fight was about.

“No,” he answered, getting closer to her face, dwarfing her with his tall height. “Go away.”

She pouted. “Rafey-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” He cursed, grabbing the wrist of her hand, which was reaching to touch his face. “Ava, go home.”

“You brought me here,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, so find another way home,” he chuckled softly, delighting in making her feel small.

Ava looked down, angry now. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

Rafe just smirked. “But you’re still with me, so I must not be that bad,” he laughed in her face. “Unless it’s just your daddy issues-”

He was hit so fast he didn’t even know what had happened.

“Don’t ever talk to her like that again,” Kiara scoffed, squaring up to Rafe. “Ava, you can get a ride with me, ok?” Ava nodded and walked off with Kiara as you appeared.

Kiara’d hit him. And he’d deserved it.

Kelce and Topper cleared off, they knew this was about you.

“How’s Elijah?” He rubbed his red cheek.

“Josh is fine, thanks for asking,” your voice was cutting and precise.

“I asked about Eli,” Rafe growled, grabbing your hand.

“And I answered about Josh.”

He chuckled. “Your friends suck.”

“Your girlfriend is a bimbo.”

Rafe smiled. “And she takes dick like a champ, what more could a man want?”

Your face went from mild annoyance directly to disgust. “I’ll see you later,” you scoffed, starting to walk off.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He called after you. “I-I’m sorry, ok? I was an asshole, and I’m sorry. That was a gross thing to say, I’m drunk and I just got beaten up, can you please forgive me?” he begged.

But you were still walking away from him, and he was losing you. He followed you through the hoards of people, pleading and begging for you to forgive him as he trailed behind.

Finally, on the most secluded area of the beach you turned to him with tears streaming down your cheeks, and he felt his heart break.

“Fucking hell Rafe! Can you not just notice anyone else around you for once!? You just ruined my fucking chances with Eli, you just beat the shit out of someone, and you just treated your girlfriend like she was some fangirl, you think I was to be associated with you right now? Let alone with you right now?! Can you stop being so tunnel-visioned? Fuck’s sake!” You wiped your eyes. “I’m so sick of being your fucking babysitter, you’re older than me Rafe! Please act like an adult! Treat your girlfriend better and treat the people around you better!” You sighed. “Treat me better.”

Rafe’s heart was breaking. He never wanted to hurt you, that was the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do. You were with him through everything, through thick and fucking thin. And he was treating you like this? This was unacceptable,and he felt so guilty he wanted to throw up.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, the tears finally falling. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over. “Where?! Where are you fucking sorry Rafe? Because all I keep seeing is empty fucking promises and bullshit excuses,” You groaned. “You think I want to be the one scolding you? You think I want to have to de-escalate situations for you? No! This was my one fucking night off from work too, and you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry,” he was breathing heavily, he’d never felt so shitty.

“Rafe,” you sighed. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean.”

And with that you walked away.

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

You dialled Eli’s number and prayed that he would answer.

“Hey,” he sighed.

“I’m so sorry,” you immediately answered. “Can we still meet up?”

He sighed into the phone. “I’m not sure Y/n, you kind of seem… preoccupied with Rafe.”

Fuck. Yet another one of your relationships ruined by Rafe Cameron. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t see it?” he chuckled. “You two are perfect for each other. He’s like the most angry and uncontrollable guy I’ve ever seen, and you control him and calm him down by just breathing. And you were the most shy and quiet person I’d ever seen, but when I see you talking with Rafe, or just being around him, you’re so much more brave and extroverted. It’s seriously impressive. You two complement each other Y/n. You bring the real him out, and he brings the real you out. That’s beautiful, and i’m not going to be the person to fuck that up.”

You finally understood. Rafe loved you back. You loved Rafe. Simple. Why did you ever overcomplicate this?

“Ok, thanks Eli,” you sighed, then hung up. You were still angry with Rafe, but you needed to tell him, and you needed to go now.

When you turned around, you ran straight into someone, Rafe.

“I couldn’t just let you walk away, you were crying and-”

“I’m super pissed with you, obviously,” you interrupted. “But I love you, like, love you. And I have for a long time.”

Rafe’s jaw dropped. That’s all he had wanted to hear his whole life, and he only wanted to hear it form your perfect lips.

“I-I-I-” he took a deep breath. “I love you too.”

He went in for a kiss but you pushed him back. “I’m still pissed, and you still have a girlfriend.”

He nodded, agreeing. “Right.”

You pressed your lips to his cheek. He smiled. There was a moment of silence.

“Tanneyhill?” he offered. You agreed, and you walked there hand in hand.

While you weren’t together yet, you would be.

And that was enough for the both of you.

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

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

186 notes · View notes

lee-laurent · 5 months ago

Text

Playing Pretend - Jamie Drysdale

Summary: In which Jamie and his girlfriend end things after pretending everything was okay. Or in which Jamie's girlfriend moves in with Trevor while attempting to keep her pregnancy hidden from everyone.

content: pregnancy, mentions of abortion, long distance, keeping secrets from partner (if that's a warning idk), angst, fluff, mentions of sex, implications of cheating/being unfaithful, jamie's trade :(

notes: this one is a bit more angsty than my other fics. i wanted to experiment with trying something new. possible happy ending tho. guess you'll have to read to find out ;) sorry if it seems rushed, i didn't know how to format it :/

"Of course, you have options. You can read more about those here. This is a judgement free zone," the nurse continued to drone on about scheduling another appointment, but Violet had tuned her out. In fact, the only thing that Violet could hear was her heart pounding in her chest.

"Thank you," she mumbled, grabbing the paperwork and shoving it into her purse. All she wanted was Jamie and he was on the other side of the country.

Once she was safely in her car in the parking lot, she let the tears fall. A baby? How was she supposed to take care of a baby when her boyfriend lived five hours away by plane. They barely spoke more than twice a week at this point. Their relationship was falling apart and a baby wasn't going to save it.

"How was the doctor?" Trevor asked as she walked through the door, kicking off her shoes.

"Fine. Just food poisoning, like you thought."

"I told you! Never eat grocery store sushi, Vi. Should've listened to me."

"Ha. I guess you know best, Trev. I'm gonna go lie down. I'm still nauseous."

"Make sure you text Jamie! He was worried about you."

"I'm sure he was," she mumbled, making her way to her bedroom. She looked at the picture on her bedside table. It was of her and Jamie at his first game with the Ducks. She'd been so proud to see him move from the Gulls to the NHL. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and was looking down at her like she'd hung the moon and stars in the sky, while she smiled happily into the camera. Violet sighed, putting the photo face down. She couldn't bare to look at Jamie's face right now, photo or not.

Her phone buzzed.

Jamie <3: Trev texted. Said it's food poisoning like he thought. Feel better. I love you

Vi: Thanks, Jam. Love you too

Lying to Jamie made her stomach churn. In fact, everything was making her stomach churn at the moment. Trevor had made sausages with his breakfast that morning, leading to her projectile vomiting in the kitchen. Which is when Trevor finally convinced her to go to a walk-in clinic. A walk-in clinic that sent her to Planned Parenthood. And now at the thought of Jamie not knowing about his child mixed with the baby in her womb hating the smell of everything, she was leaned over the toilet once more.

"Vi? Do you want some ginger ale?" Trevor asked from the doorway.

"No. I'm okay, Trev. Just, I- I'd like to be alone right now."

"Oh, right. Call me if you need anything," he sighed, gently shutting the door behind him.

Violet sniffled, reaching for her phone on the counter next to her.

Jamie was worried sick about Violet, but he was also focused on the game of NHL 24 he was playing with Cam.

"Wait. Time out. Violet's texting."

"Oh, shit. What'd she say?"

"That... that we need to talk?" Jamie furrowed his eyebrows.

"Shit. We can finish this later. Call her."

"Thanks, Cam. I- I'll be back," Jamie stood up from the couch, albeit a bit wobbly from nerves, speeding off to his room.

"Hey," Violet's voice cracked as it broke through the speaker of his phone.

"Hey, um, what did you wanna talk about?"

"Long distance isn't working, Jamie. I- I think we should end things."

"What? Vi? Where is this coming from? Did- did you meet someone in Anaheim?"

"What? God, no. Jamie- I wouldn't cheat. You know that. I just- this is too much stress for me right now."

"Our relationship is too much stress for you? I- I told you that you could move here. We could get our own place. I-"

"Jamie, I have a life here. I have a job. My friends."

"I had all of that too. But, I- I'm making it work here. You could make it work here, Violet! Please don't do this. You- you're the love of my life."

"Jamie, don't make this harder than it needs to be. I can't do this anymore."

"Please, Violet. Please."

"We- if you need anything call Trevor. Goodbye, Jamie."

Jamie didn't return to his game with Cam; he spent the rest of the night crying himself to sleep on his bed.

"You broke up with Jamie?!" Trevor shouted the next morning, waking up an exhausted Violet.

"Trevor? It's 6 in the morning."

"Yeah? Well Jamie just called me in tears, saying that you dumped him OVER THE PHONE?!"

"We're long distance. How else was I supposed to do it?"

"You weren't supposed to do it at all, Violet! You guys are made for each other! What's with this sudden change of heart?"

"We were barely talking anymore. I need a present boyfriend."

"Vi-"

"Drop it, Trevor! It's frankly none of your business!"

"None of my bus-"

Violet gagged, leaning over and puking on the hardwood floor. She looked up at Trevor, wiping her mouth.

"Get me a paper towel, please."

"Right. Um, right... This conversation isn't over."

He returned with a roll of paper towels. Watching as she pulled herself out of bed, to clean up the mess next to her bed.

"Why'd you break up with him?"

"I just told you. It wasn't working."

"But, you didn't even try to make it work. He said you didn't communicate it wasn't going well until yesterday."

"Wow. Does Jamie tell you every intimate part of our relationship?" she snapped.

"No."

"It was rhetorical, Trevor."

"Oh. He loves you."

"I know."

"Do you not love him?"

"What? Of course I love him. He's the fa- the first man I loved. I'll always love him."

"Then why break up with him?! He- he said you could go live with him in Philly."

"I don't want to leave Anaheim. I want to r- never mind. But, my job is here."

"Get a new one."

"God! You're so immature! It's not that fucking easy, Trevor! I'm not going to start my entire life over for Jamie! So fucking drop it!"

"I-"

"Drop it!"

Trevor dropped it. At least with Violet he did. He spent every day trying to convince Jamie to call her. To fix things. To figure what he could do. Jamie wasn't easily convinced though. After the mental anguish that the phone call with his now ex-girlfriend had caused him, he wasn't sure he wanted to go through it again.

Violet's morning sickness hadn't ended. In fact, it was getting worse. Morning sickness? More like all day and all night sickness. She was in agony. And Trevor as oblivious as he was, was getting suspicious.

"Maybe you should go to the doctor again? I don't think food poisoning is supposed to last this long."

"It's probably just stress."

"Why're you stressed?"

"Work."

"But- okay? I still think you should go back."

"Trevor."

"Yes?"

"I'm fine."

"You're pretending."

"What?"

"You're pretending everything is okay. You're just afraid to admit that things are worse without Jamie. Not better. You're more stressed. Hence the vomiting."

"Trevor, I- I have work to do."

Two hours later Violet was in the kitchen doing dishes when her phone started ringing.

"Trev! Can you get that?"

"Sure."

"Hi! This is Alice from Anaheim OB/GYN, I was just calling to confirm your appointment on Friday with Dr. Rhodes," the voice came through the phone.

"Trev! Who is it?"

"Sure, just let me get the phone to Violet. Oh, perfect! Thank you!"

"Hi?" Violet asked, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Hi! Is this Violet?"

"Yes, this is she."

"Perfect! Just a few questions to go over before confirming your appointment."

"Oh, of course."

"Any abnormal bleeding?"

"No."

"Dizziness?"

"Nope."

"How's the nausea you mentioned last time you were in?"

"About the same."

"Okay, I'll let the nurse know. We can get you some tablets for that. See you Friday at 11:30."

"Perfect, thank you."

Violet sighed, hanging up the phone.

"You're pregnant?" Trevor whispered.

"What? No."

"She said she was calling from the OB/GYN's office. Isn't that a doctor for pregnant people?"

"Not always. They also give birth control and stuff."

"But why would you need birth control if you're not seeing Jamie anymore?"

"For my periods."

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying, Trevor. Why would I lie?"

"You're lying. You always itch your wrist when you lie. You're pregnant. Does Jamie know?"

"Maybe it isn't Jamie's?"

"Yeah? Who else have you slept with? Nobody. You and Jamie had sex the night before we left for Nashville."

"Who told you that?"

"Jamie."

"Ew. I-"

"So it is Jamie's?"

"I'm not pregnant."

"Violet... is this why you dumped him? Are you getting... you know?"

"Not pregnant, Trevor."

"Fine, I'll drop it for now. But, if you were pregnant, I, um, I'd be here to help. I promise."

"Good to know if I am to hypothetically get pregnant," she mumbled, itching her wrist. Trevor let out a heavy sigh.

"You- you can tell me anything, Violet. I'm not going to tell Jamie if you don't want me to."

"You said you were gonna drop it. Plus there's nothing to tell him. Everything is normal."

"Right, um, I'm going out. Call if you need anything for your... food poisoning."

"Will do."

When she finally heard the front door shut, she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. The tension in the kitchen had been palpable. She knew deep down that Trevor didn't believe her, but until she was showing she'd be able to hide it... maybe.

A month had passed and Violet was shocked to find that it looked like she was bloated. Violet had always been on the thinner side, but not to the point that she thought she'd be showing this early into her pregnancy. The doctors had confirmed that she was just over a month when she found out, meaning she was nearing three months. Baggy clothes became her new best friends. Unfortunately, most of the baggy clothing she owned were items she'd stolen from Jamie. This led to lots of looks from Trevor as she moved around their apartment.

Trevor now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Violet was pregnant. He'd gone into her bathroom to find some extra toilet paper and come across an array of prenatal vitamins. He didn't bring it up though. The apartment constantly had an air of awkwardness shrouding it. Violet and Trevor were tip-toeing around each other. And he knew that eventually he would have to be the bigger person and bring it up, which was uncommon for the Ducks player.

"I was talking to Jamie today," Trevor mentioned as he twirled some spaghetti onto his fork.

"Hm. How's Jamie?"

"Better. He, uh, he still asks about you."

"Good for him."

"I'm sure if you told him... about your situation, he'd be willing to help."

"What situation?" Violet smiled, taking a sip of her water.

"Can we stop pretending, Violet?"

She shook her head, pushing away from the small kitchen table.

"God! Grow up, Violet! You're going to be a mom! Start acting like a fucking adult!" Trevor shouted as she retreated to her room, that Trevor had not-so-lovingly nicknamed "the cave." Her door slammed in response, shaking the pictures hanging in the corridor.

"Hey, girl!" her best friend, Aly, smiled through the FaceTime call. "How're those vitamins? One of the moms I work with says they're the best ones!"

"Good, I think. I've got a little bump now."

"Damn! Baby Drysdale is growingggg!" she dragged out.

"Don't call them that. He- I still haven't told him."

"Girl! You told me you were going to like a week ago! What changed?"

"He- I saw him on Instagram and he looked so happy. I don't want to ruin that."

"So... you're just gonna wallow in self-pity until your baby is born? What about when he sees you with a baby? Isn't he gonna be suspicious?"

"He already accused me of cheating. So..."

"Violet! No! We are not claiming you cheated and got pregnant from another man."

"Jamie's not ready to be a dad."

"Who told you that? Jamie?"

"No."

"Exactly. You don't know that!"

"I'll think about it, Aly. Right now, the doctor said I need to avoid too much stress. It makes my nausea worse."

"Uh huh. Lemme tell you about this date I went on!"

"Do you think Violet would be okay if I came to visit?" Jamie asked Trevor.

"Um... I mean you're coming to see me. It has nothing to do with her."

"I guess, you're right. I'll get a hotel though. I don't want to intrude on her space."

"Her space is also my space, Jamie."

"Yeah, but she's my... ex. It'd feel weird. Is she, um, seeing anyone new?"

"Violet?" Trevor choked on his water, "No. No. She's been busy with... work."

"Makes sense."

"What about you? Any new women in your life?"

"No. I just compare them all to Vi."

"When you come, maybe you can get some closure. Talk to her."

"If she lets me."

"If she lets you," Trevor smiled, continuing to help his best friend plan his trip.

Six months pregnant. Violet couldn't believe it. Her baby was the size of corn, according to Aly. It was hard to hide her ever growing bump, but Trevor's hoodies and some of Jamie's old clothes did the trick. She had no idea that Jamie was coming to visit. It was all part of Trevor's plan to get her to talk to him... and admit her pregnancy.

Trevor was buzzing as he walked Jamie up the stairs to their apartment.

"Violet did some redecorating, but it looks similar to when you left! She's still asleep, I think. She sleeps in on weekends."

"Not surprising," Jamie bit back his smile.

"Welcome back, bud!" Trevor swung open the door, leading his ex-teammate into his home. Jamie looked around, it was similar to when he left. A few pictures had been taken down and replaced with new ones, but it looked pretty much the same.

"Trev? Why are you shouting?" Violet questioned sleepily, rubbing a hand on her stomach. The baby had recently discovered how to kick and it was their new favourite hobby.

"Look who I brought home with me!" Trevor beamed.

"Jamie?" the girl suddenly looked much more awake, dropping her hands to her side.

"You... you're pregnant," was all Jamie could manage, staring directly at her stomach.

"Surprise?"

The group sat in the living room. Well, Trevor and Violet were sitting. Jamie was pacing around the room, running his hands through his hair.

"You're gonna go bald, Jimmy. Stop."

"She- you're pregnant?!"

"Yes. We established that, Jamie," Violet rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. Is it... is it mine?"

"Um..."

"Yes, the baby is yours, Jamie! Are you dumb?" Trevor furrowed his brow.

"You didn't tell me?! Neither of you?!"

"She... It wasn't my place."

"Yeah? What about you, Violet? What's your excuse?!"

"I- I didn't want to ruin your career."

"Ruin my career? No! You were just being selfish. Don't pretend this had anything to do with protecting me!" Jamie exclaimed.

"Jamie, can you sit down? You're stressing me out," she sighed, rubbing over where the baby was kicking repeatedly, sensing its mother's turmoil.

"Violet! We... we're having a baby."

"I'm having a baby."

God, she was just as stubborn as before.

"Z, can we have a minute?"

"Oh, sure," Trevor left and Jamie didn't speak until he heard the door close.

"Violet, this is serious. Why would you keep this from me? Is this why you ended things?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.

"Sort of. I panicked. I just, I don't want you to feel forced to stay because of us," she motioned to her belly.

"I... I still love you. A lot. God, I never stopped loving you."

"Jamie..."

"You... you can come live in Philly! We can fix us. And raise our baby. Be a happy family."

"I want to stay here."

"You... you can't keep my baby from me, Violet. Please," his eyes started to water, "Not any longer than you already have."

"He-"

"He? It's a boy?"

"Shit. Yeah."

"I'm going to have a son?" he smiled, the tears finally falling. Violet could feel her hormones acting up, her eyes also welling with tears.

"Henry."

"Hm?"

"I- I've been planning on naming him Henry."

"Henry. It's perfect, Vi. Can I?" he gestured to the swell of her stomach. She nodded, letting out a sob as his hands met the cotton of her shirt.

"Hi, Henry. It's your dad. I'm sorry I haven't been here. I- I don't blame Mommy. She did what she thought was best."

Violet continued to sob. Why was he being so sweet to her? She'd kept his son from him!

"Violet, can you just think about it? Please. Us and Henry in Philly."

"I can think about it, Jams," she cried, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Are you sure you built that right?" Violet asked for the fourth time, "I don't want him falling on the ground in the middle of the night."

"I followed the instructions, Vi. It's secure. He'll be fine."

"Are you sure? I just-"

Jamie cut her off with a kiss to her lips.

"I'm positive, love. Now stop worrying. Poor Henry is going to pop out early if you keep that up."

"I'd appreciate it if he did. He's been sitting on my bladder all day."

Jamie kneeled down in front of her, placing a hand where he saw the imprint of a foot kick.

"Can you move off Mommy's bladder? It makes her pissy. And Daddy doesn't want to deal with it right now."

"He's not listening. I need to pee," she waddled out of the nursery and into the ensuite. Jamie laughed, following her into their bedroom.

"You look good pregnant," Jamie commented as she emerged from the bathroom.

"Shut up. We're not having sex until this monster is out of me."

"He's not a monster!"

"He's giant! I can't breathe."

"Here," Jamie walked behind her, lifting up her stomach. She let out a long sigh of relief, the pressure being alleviated from her back.

"Thanks, Jams. I love you."

"I love you too," he smiled. Although they weren't the most stable couple on the planet, Jamie was just glad to have his girl back. And now he had his little boy too. He felt complete. And so did Violet. Complete and happy with their soon-to-be family of three.

#jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #trevor zegras

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