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synvil · 2 months ago

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can’t swim // rafe cameron

a / n : rafe cameron thoughts. btw this was actually an anonymous ask i sent to a writer, i don’t know if she’ll write it but im sure if she does, it’ll turn out amazing. @rafeysbunny i’m 🧋 anon, hehe.

fun fact, i cannot swim.

synopsis : in which, rafe overhears that you can’t swim and during a party out on the docks, some of the kooks push you into the ocean to loosen you up.

warnings : reader can’t swim. kelce being an ass, peer pressure, etc.

“are you serious, [Name]?”

The raised tone of her voice causes you to shush her as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and purse your lips faintly. “Not so loud, sare..” You let out a small breath and frown, leaning back against the headboard of her bed.

Sarah nods in understanding, lowering her tone as she sighs softly and crosses her legs on the bed in front of you. “That’s crazy- i mean, everyone here in Outer Banks are either surfers or decent swimmers.”

“Except me..” You trail off, shutting your eyes as you bring your hands up to your face. “It’s pretty humiliating, you know.. Seeing everyone in their swimsuits and able to swim in the ocean or go surfing, without the fear of drowning.”

“Wow, no wonder you wouldn’t ever go into the pool or go swimming with us during the boat parties on the dock..”

Unbeknownst to you two, Sarah’s door was open and a passing Rafe Cameron was on his way downstairs when he overhears your conversation.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, but each time, I feel my body sinking and it terrifies me. Plus, y’know, with the whole nearly drowning as a kid trauma and shit.” you force a laugh while Sarah shares a bittersweet smile.

“It’s alright, stay by me tonight and I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

“Thanks, Sarah, I appreciate it.. and you can’t tell anyone either, okay, especially not Rafe.” You warn pleadingly and she chuckles and nods. “wait, why specifically him?”

You feel your cheeks warm at her question as you turn away. “Your brother just seems like the type to make fun of me for it, and besides, it’s just embarrassing to have a guy i think is hot, to know that about me.”

Sarah scrunches her nose and shudders. “I think your crush on my brother is more embarrassing than you being unable to swim.” she teases and you playfully push her away from you as she breaks into a laugh.

Rafe peeks into the room and thinks for a moment as his eyes examine and take in your form. He has already known long ago of your developed crush on him, and to say he has a mutual infatuation with you may be an understatement.

Every time you come over, Rafe finds every excuse to be in the house, sometimes even in the same room, just to get a look at you.

The way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you feel shy, the way your eyes light up when you laugh, everything entices him, intrigues him. You were just so perfect.

Rafe quickly pulls away when he hears movement and leans against the wall beside the doorframe for a moment.

Despite being a little surprised at the newfound information, it brought a little smile to his face. You can’t swim? How cute.

“Come on, we should get ready for Topper’s party tonight.” Sarah says and you sigh softly, but get up anyways with her as she heads over to her closet. “It’ll be fun, come on.”

Rafe lingers for a second longer as he imagines what you’ll be wearing before taking his leave downstairs.

It’s around ten at night when the two of you arrive at the docks, the night sky surrounding the area with only the lights of Topper’s large boat illuminating the place.

“I don’t know, maybe i shouldn’t be here..” You go to turn around but Sarah stops you, pulling you to her side. “Come on, it’ll be okay, i promise. Besides, you look super cute, so flaunt it, okay?” She winks and you huff a breath before following after her.

The closer you get, the louder the partygoers become and the music blasting is enough to stimulate the senses.

Once you get on board, Sarah is engulfed by her friends, while you remain on the sideline with a weak smile and awkwardly hugging your arms. Despite being a kook, you weren’t among the popular ones but that wasn’t enough to get you on their bad side at least.

You rub your arms, the thin fabric of your cardigan doing nothing but add to Sarah’s fashion sense of your outfit tonight. In her baby blue, cropped cardigan, a matching spaghetti strapped solid colored tank and dark washed, high waisted denim shorts.

You help yourself to the bar, grabbing a red solo cup and letting the bartender fill the plastic cup with some beer before bringing it to your lips, hoping it would do some good to alleviate some anxiety, while you keep an eye on Sarah from nearby, who’s talking with her friends.

The scene brings a smile to your lips when you recall her saying she would keep an eye on you earlier in the day but you were happy to see her enjoy herself.

However, you didn’t get to enjoy much time alone as Topper and his friends make his way over to you.

“Hey, [Name]. All alone again?” Kelce smirks and you merely offer a small smile in return. “Not much of a party kinda girl.. but it’s nice.” you mention the last part to Topper who dismisses you, understanding you meant no offense.

“Where’s Sarah?” Topper asks, looking around the area and you gesture over a little ways nearby.

“She’s talking with some friends.” You reply, tapping my fingers against my cup as you shift your footing, feeling the anxiety come back, causing you to take another sip of your drink.

You let your eyes wander around the group, briefly catching Rafe’s, who let his eyes trail up and down your form for a moment, taking in your appearance. The way the baby blue color popped against your skin, the way your hair was styled for tonight’s party. Even the way you shyly held your cup to your chest, fingers still tapping against the sides.

Feeling your cheeks warm from Rafe’s intense gaze, you turn away and look back to Kelce.

Kelce and some of the other guys step closer and you give a small smile to them. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Come on, [Name]. We notice you always come to these parties but you don’t do anything,” Kelce mentions and you force a chuckle. “I’m an observer.” but some of the other guys don’t take that answer. “All we’re saying is, you should loosen up a little. Come on, some of the girls are taking dives off the tail, you should join.”

Your eyes widen slightly and you wave off the idea. “No, i think im good tonight, im actually pretty tired..” You say and Kelce scoffs lightly as his hand goes down to grab your wrist. “Don’t be a buzzkill, [Name], the water will wake you right up.”

“Kelce, i’m not really in the mood to-“ Rafe places a hand on Kelce’s shoulder, stopping him. “Let go, dude, let’s just leave her alone.” But Kelce doesn’t listen as he drags you along to where the other girls are, and the commotion causes all the partygoers to look over, Sarah looking your way.

Your eyes meet Rafe’s and he notices a look of fear and anxiety in them as Kelce brings you over and you try to pull away, the other guys surrounding you all, cheering Kelce and You.

“Yeah!”

“Come on, loosen up, girly.”

“Kelce, I really don’t—“ Despite your futile attempts, Kelce just takes the cup from your hands while Sarah pushes her way through the crowd. “Hey, Kelce, leave her alone!”

Rafe purses his lips and pulls Kelce away. “Hey, seriously, that’s enough.” He warns, pushing Kelce back, who just furrows his brows and scoffs. “What the hell? Why are you getting in the way, man?”

Sarah manages to get to your side, standing over you protectively. But the other girls now get in the way.

“Come on, Sarah, let [Name] do it.”

“it’s not scary.”

You shake your head again, as the girls pull Sarah away, leaving you alone with the kook surrounding you.

Rafe is pushing Kelce away, who’s confused and pushing Rafe back in retaliation. Meanwhile this leaves the other Kooks to act freely and the guys seem to share the same idea and go over to your body.

“Hey, hold on—“

But it’s too late, as the guys pick you up with ease and toss you overboard, a wave of laughter and cheers erupting from them.

“[Name]!” Sarah shouts from the girls hold and Rafe widens his eyes as he whirls around at the sound of your scream and a splash from the impact.

“Shit-“ Rafe curses as he roughly shoves Kelce into Topper as he rips off his shirt before taking a leap off the deck and into the water with you.

You flail, panic surging into you as you begin to hyperventilate. “S-Sa-Sarah—!”

“What the hell?!” Kelce scoffs with furrowed brows while Sarah feels tears brimming her eyes. “[Name] can’t swim!” she cries out as she rips away from the girls and shoves two of the guys out of her way before leaning over the railing. “[Name]!”

Topper’s, Kelce’s and the other kooks’ eyes widen in shock at the revelation. “What?”

They all rush over the rail to peer into the ocean as Rafe is diving under to find you.

Rafe manages to find your sinking body, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you up to the surface, your body already unconscious due to the lack of air and your panic flailing.

“[Name], [Name], are you okay?” He gasps as he reaches the surface and uses a hand to caress your cheek while the other props you up under your back. “No, no, come on, [Name], wake up.”

Sarah rushes around down the boat and on the boardwalk and leans down. “Rafe, Rafe! Come on, bring her over here!”

Rafe clenches his jaw when you still don’t respond and swims his way over towards Sarah as quickly as he can, panting before lifting your body up, Sarah doing her best to help you onto the wooden docks, laying you flat on your back.

“[Name], please! please wake up!” Sarah cries as she jostles you, Rafe climbing onto the dock next to her and looking down at you. She begins doing chest compressions, tears streaming down her cheeks faster. By this time, everyone on the boat is out on the boardwalk surrounding you body on the ground.

Rafe stands up straight, his clothes soaking and dripping but he doesn’t pay it any mind as he tries to catch his breath, staring down at his sister trying to wake you.

He contemplated for just a minuscule of a second, about beating the shit out of Kelce, but he prioritized your wellbeing first.

“Rafe- she’s not waking up.”

Sarah inhales sharply, trying not to think the worst and her older brother kneels down, pinching your nose closed before bringing his lips down to yours.

The kooks are whispering amongst each other, surprised by Rafe’s sudden leadership actions.

Rafe pulls away, continuing Sarah’s chest compressions before going back to pressing his lips against yours, providing CPR.

Please, not like this. wake up, wake up for me, [Name].

Suddenly a choked noise erupts from your lips as you turn to your side and spew out bits of water. Your throat becomes sore as you cough roughly.

Sarah immediately breaks into a smile, a gasp of relief coming from her and Rafe pulls back, a sigh coming from him. “H-Hey, take it easy, you’re alright..”

You look around, feeling dizzy and nauseous as you spit up the last of the water you nearly drowned in, as Sarah pulls you to her chest, engulfing you in a tight hug. “[Name], i’m so glad you’re okay!”

Meanwhile, Rafe stands upright, looking up at the sky, trying to relax his rapidly beating heart, as he takes slow steps to turn around.

“H-Hey, look, I didn’t know-“

Kelce, already knowing what was coming, raises his hands in defense as he backs up.

However, Rafe doesn’t hesitate his fist swinging into Kelce’s cheek, succeeding in knocking him down. “You son of a bitch!”

Rafe clenches his jaw tight as he looks to the other kooks. “Party is fucking over, get the fuck away!”

Topper tries to talk some sense into Rafe but Rafe shoves him. “You hear me? I said get away! go fucking home, now!”

Everyone is stunned into silence as they share looks, before quickly scrambling away and off the dock, not wanting to argue with the Kook King.

Sarah sniffles as she pulls away and looks up at Rafe, who kneels down and tucks an arm under your legs and the other under your back, before lifting you up carefully, bridal style.

“R-Rafe?…” Your hoarse voice calls out, hands pressed to his firm chest but Rafe hushes you. “Shh.. it’s alright, just get some rest.. you’ll be fine.”

Sarah watches her brother carry you towards his truck, wiping her tears as she follows after them, exhaling gently.

Tears brim your eyes as your chest swells with warmth, despite your freezing body.

You stare up at Rafe weakly, feeling your chest grow weak as your eyes flutter close and you press your head into his chest more. “Thank you.. Rafe.. You saved me..”

Rafe’s hold on you tightens, securing you in his arms.

“..I’m so glad you’re okay… i’m so sorry..”

a/n: welp, this could’ve been sooo much better but i rushed this at work hehe. outerbanks is playing on the tv at work so i thought id get a little smth out :3 this is sooo bad though 😭

not proofread or edited. i’ll go back and edit some other time.

synvil™️.

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supercutszns · 1 year ago

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a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #this is far longer than i wanted it to be so sorry.#don’t usually write in 2nd person or present tense so i’m just trying not to look at it #the evil men with curly hair have won again

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airybcby · 28 days ago

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જ⁀♡⊹｡° i'm addicted to the ' if only '

♡ a/n — for a new childhood friends to lovers series :) a little shorter than i wanted but yk

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — sae itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, childhood friends to lovers, sae and reader are the " sit by this quiet kid so they rub off on you " kids i fear, mentions of sae going to spain, starts when they're in 5th grade ( does japan do elementary grades like that? idk. ) and goes all the way to the U-20 game, wrote this at midnight so sorry if it's confusing

♡ synopsis — From the moment Sae Itoshi said he loved you, you were his. The long-distance relationship wasn’t easy, but it didn’t matter. You had Sae, and that was enough. He was all you needed after all.

You met Sae Itoshi when you were ten, in the fifth grade. You were the loud one, always raising your hand to answer questions, always running up to classmates to start games during recess. Sae, on the other hand, was quiet. His answers were sharp, direct, and to the point. He preferred to sit at the edge of the classroom, observing rather than participating.

When the teacher paired the two of you together for a science project, you knew immediately that this was going to be difficult.

"Can’t you just sit still for five minutes?" Sae asked, an exasperated edge to his voice as you twirled around with the sheet of paper that was supposed to outline your project plan.

"Nope!" you said with a grin. "Sitting still is boring."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re impossible."

You should’ve hated him. He made it clear he found you irritating, and you had no interest in someone who acted like they were better than everyone else. But there was something about Sae that intrigued you—maybe it was the calmness that always seemed to settle around him, or the way he never tried to impress anyone.

To your surprise, by the time the project ended, he hadn’t abandoned you. Instead, he’d begrudgingly started helping you organize your thoughts, muttering under his breath every time you got distracted but staying by your side nonetheless.

Halfway through the school year, he stopped rolling his eyes when you dragged him outside to play soccer after school.

By the end of the year, you were spending every recess together. You teased him endlessly, calling him your best friend, even though he would only shrug in response.

But he never corrected you.

It wasn’t until you were twelve that you realized how much Sae had become a part of your life.

He wasn’t just your best friend—he was your favorite person. He was there for everything, from the boring group projects to the secret candy stash you shared during recess. He wasn’t just the quiet boy in the corner anymore. He was Sae, the person who made your days brighter without even trying.

One day, when you were both at the park, it hit you.

He was practicing soccer, as always. The golden light of the setting sun bathed his figure, making him look almost ethereal. He didn’t notice the way you were staring, too focused on juggling the ball with practiced ease.

You didn’t understand it then, but something inside you shifted. You found yourself watching him more closely, noticing the way his expression softened when he talked about soccer, the way he always let you have the last piece of candy, even though he’d complain about it afterward.

You liked him.

The realization was terrifying, but you pushed it down. Sae was your best friend, and you didn’t want to ruin that.

When Sae told you he’d been scouted to train in Spain, you didn’t know how to react.

You were happy for him—of course you were. Soccer was his dream, and this was everything he had ever wanted. But as you stood in the airport, watching him get ready to board his flight, all you could think about was how much you were going to miss him.

"Don’t cry," he said, his voice steady. He stood in front of you, his suitcase at his side, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked so calm, so sure of himself, that it almost made you angry.

"I’m not crying," you lied, blinking furiously.

Sae’s gaze softened, just for a moment. "You’ll be fine without me," he said. "You always are."

But you weren’t.

High school was different without Sae.

The loud, hyper child you used to be was gone, replaced by someone quieter, someone who didn’t raise their hand as much in class or run around during lunch breaks. The hole Sae left behind was too big to fill, and you didn’t know how to be yourself without him by your side.

But at night, when your phone buzzed with his Facetime calls, everything felt okay again.

When you were fifteen, one of those calls changed everything.

You were sitting on your bed, rambling about your day, filling the silence with every little detail you could think of. Sae’s face on the screen was calm, as always, but there was something different about his expression.

"I love you," he said suddenly, cutting you off mid-sentence.

Your heart stopped.

"What?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I love you," he repeated, his tone steady, like he had been waiting to say it for a long time. "I’ve loved you for a while."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "I love you too," you said, your voice trembling.

From that moment on, you were his. The long-distance relationship wasn’t easy, but it didn’t matter. You had Sae, and that was enough.

When you were seventeen, everything started to fall apart.

Sae’s texts became shorter, his calls less frequent. You told yourself it was because he was busy—Spain was demanding, and soccer always came first for him. But the doubt lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

One night, he called you.

You were so excited to hear from him that you didn’t notice the tension in his voice. You launched into your day, telling him about school, your friends, everything he had missed. He stayed silent until you finally asked, "Sae? Are you still there?"

"I’m here," he said. His tone was cold, unfamiliar. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Your stomach twisted. "What is it?"

"You’re a bother," he said, his voice flat. "We should break up."

The words didn’t register at first.

"What?" you whispered, your voice shaking. "Sae, what are you talking about?"

"You’re holding me back," he said, his tone as sharp as a blade. "I don’t have time for this anymore."

And just like that, the boy you'd grown to love - your best friend - was gone.

A year later, Sae returned to Japan for the U-20 vs. Blue Lock match.

You hadn’t heard from him since the breakup. Not a single text, not a single call. But even after everything, you couldn’t help but hope. He was still your best friend… right?

You looked for him everywhere—in the streets you used to walk together, in the soccer fields where he used to practice. But he was never there.

The night of the game, you sat alone in your room, watching him on the TV.

He was brilliant. Every move, every goal, was flawless. The Sae on the screen was a stranger, a far cry from the boy who used to roll his eyes at your jokes and share his candy with you.

It doesn’t feel right, you thought, not knowing the Sae that’s out there, shining so brightly.

And maybe, you realized, you never would.

no one said all of these had to be happy. childhood best friends to lovers to strangers anyone ?

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

#★ · airybcbyy #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #airy posts #bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x female reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #sae #itoshi #sae itoshi angst #bllk x reader #angst #sae angst #sae x reader angst #itoshi sae angst #HAHA SECRET ANGST (again)

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runningupthatvecna · 4 months ago

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get the peach(es)

bestfriend!eddie munson x reader

it's the day after chrissy got vecna'd and you and the gang decide to check up on eddie at rick's. he's still in so much distress that you can't help but selflessly stay with your best friend (who you've been harboring a crush on for quite some time) and keep him company. 6k words, not proofread.

cw: the good old friends to lovers trope, eddie is an anxious bean who just needs to be held (by you, ideally), mutual (and not so secret at all) pining, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind (she/her pronouns) but can also be read as gn i guess, fluff, hurt/comfort (for eddie), pet names, mentions of chrissy's death, there shall be kisses and a lot of softness. nothing too explicit but minors are still advised to LEAVE

a/n: totally not self indulgent, that scene of him being so terrified in 4x02 ripped me to shreds so this is my fix-it attempt, trying to still my need to hold him and scratch his head. disclaimer: this piece of writing is based on the ending of that episode, meaning all credits for the setting go to the respective writers. sources to the header images here, here and here. lovely divider by saradika. ok thank you so much for reading byeeee love y'all <3

–––––

The overwhelming need to befriend the satanic metalhead found you at that party at the Wheeler house. You had almost said no to Nancy when she invited you, knowing damn well how the night would end. Steve passed out with a girl on his lap, Robin silently pining after Vickie from some corner of the room while clinging onto the red plastic cup in her hand, Jonathan getting higher than a kite with his old school mates, the younger kids asking you every five minutes if you could give them a ride since you usually were the one staying sober.

Additionally this time, there would be Eddie Munson. This familiar stranger Dustin, Mike and Lucas had met and somehow befriended over the last months, due to them joining his DnD club. "He might come off as a bit intimidating ... but I promise he's super chill and easy going!", Mike had tried to convince his sister, poking the tip of her shoulder repeatedly with a bunch of pleases during lunch break in the editing room of the school's newspaper. Until she rolled her eyes theatrically and agreed to let the ambiguous stranger, which the whole town collectively perceived as not really fitting in (and who you both certainly knew under the not so chill reputation he carried around), attend the celebratory events at Casa Wheeler. Occasion: Karen, Ted and their youngest leaving the house for more than one day, off on vacation.

You'd always kinda stayed out of his ways, used to observe his antics back at school with a silent laugh and this .. intrigue poking at your guts. To you he always stood out, and if anyone asked you'd be hesitant to admit it, but his willingness to go against the flow and not conform to the acceptable standards set by society was honestly impressive. And besides, surely this whole mysterious drug dealer rockstar image must just be a fassade and deep down he's just a dork, right?

His eyes follow you through the living room, an echo of your name crossing his mind repeatedly after having pulled Dustin into a corner for a brief interrogation. He finds it endearing how quickly and almost bashfully you look away every time your curious gaze meets his. As you redirect your focus to the conversation you're becoming engaged in, there's a soft smile creeping onto your lips. Little did he know it would soon start to haunt him in his dreams at night.

"Anything specific you're looking for?"

God, his voice. The close proximity invites your nose to inhale a mix of fresh cigarette smoke, bergamot and sandalwood, allowing you to sense what can only be him standing behind you as you skim through the cabinets of the Wheeler kitchen. You turn your head for your eyes to confirm your assumption and what they find is the deepest brown of round baby cow eyes they've ever met, up so much closer now. The paring of his gaze and plush smile somehow manages to dissolve every little prejudice you've been involuntarily harboring about him. Eddie Munson, the town's freak. Prime reason for the existence of the satanic panic. Drugs. And then you realise that you should probably do the polite thing and give him an answer. "Yeah uh, I was just trying to find the peach syrup", holding his gaze with a small lopsided smile, lost in its warmth which you wouldn't have dared to expect from it, before facing away from him again. He snorts a little, "peach syrup?", pauses to bring a thumb to his upper lip, lightly scratching the skin above as if to wipe something away, before he removes it again and the dimples appear around the corners of his mouth, "that is oddly specific." His response spreads a smile over your face, and the next thing he says widens it, "looks like you have taste though."

You move one step to the side, about to investigate the insides of the next cabinet, the kitchen itself almost empty of people with only three others chatting away in the corner across the island. He follows, undoubtedly trying to stay close, and the heat from the fire he just ignited somewhere inside of you rises to your cheeks. "Thanks, I really like peaches. Especially in my drinks. It adds a little ... kick to my sobriety", you explain, Eddie now quirks an amused eyebrow paired with a lopsided smile at you, and as you get to the last cabinet it dawns on you (and also Eddie) that this household severely lacks peach syrup. An atrocity. Thanks Ted.

After he helped you rummage through the entirety of the kitchen without success but under a lot of small talk, the metalhead vanishes from the function for an hour or so. At least that's what your brain concludes when your vision fails to spot him among the people who are in attendance. Maybe he's selling out of Nancy's bedroom. Maybe he's puking up his insides in the bathroom because he had too much of that weird beer he's been downing all night. Maybe he's banging some random girl in the bathroom upstairs. Or summoning a demon. Or both. At the same time. You once again try focusing your attention back to the conversation you are involved in. Munson already feels so dear to you that the lack of his presence is starting to form an ache in your heart. It's tugging on those strings with how much you already want him near you. Yeah. You're gonna be in trouble with this one.

And then he stumbles into the room from the direction of the front door, an event you're totally unable (and unwilling) to miss. He doesn't look like he just puked, nor sold a whole lot of the stash since you notice it still bulging out the left ass pocket of his black jeans. Instead, as he pushes past the small groups of people socialising – and towards you – while you notice a red net of round fruits dangling from his right hand, and you start to think that his disheveled hair and that rosy tint on his cheeks might actually not be from shagging either. He meets your gaze again as he approaches you with a grin and your heart dares to swell at his attentive gesture (you think you might as well pass away on the spot).

"Have some, peach."

It's not syrup, but you'll take them anyway. And with your next drink, you swallow down not only that peachy sweetness on your tongue, but also whatever this tingly feeling in your chest is.

"Chchhrhch.."

Pause.

"Hey, uh– chrhchhr.."

Silence in your bedroom, the only thing illuminating the space is the moonlight softly falling through the window.

"Chrch– a-are you there?"

You stirr awake from dozing off in your bed, trying to piece together the information your senses are giving you.

Eyes gone dry, you have to blink a few times. Figure out which year it is and so on.

Confusion lies between the static crackle for a moment. That nap after your shift at the diner was necessary. God, you need to fucking quit.

"No I'm sure she'll pick right up, just– hey pleeease b-be awake, goddamn it!–"

Is it already past midnight?

You don't know and you can't tell, the clock on your nightstand still broken. What you do know though is that the familiar voice belongs to your friend Dustin and it's desperately trying to get ahold of you.

They must have found him.

"Dustin? I copy, where are you? What's going on?", you finally grab the device from the nightstand, fully awake and aware of your surroundings now.

You need to know. If he's okay.

There's that all too familiar instant tingle in your chest again, an ache that made itself familiar to you for the first time when he was introduced to you at the one and only Wheeler party several months ago. The dungeon master of Hawkins High's Hellfire club, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin and a super chill and easy going guy, to put it in Mike Wheeler's words.

What you didn't expect back then was your heart starting to develop that feeling, that tingle you'd always get to feel when you were in his presence, or like now, when his name is threatening to spill from your friend's lips on the other side of the connection at any moment.

"Aha! See? I told you she'd respond in no time."

You can practically feel Dustin's shit eating grin through the frequency, basking in being correct over Steve Harrington once again. It never gets old between these two.

"Oh my god", Steve's muffled voice is what you can make out vaguely from the off, he's probably palming his face.

"Dustin!", your voice disappears into the device, and your impatience grows with every passing second, hoping he gets the hint.

There's the sound of a door falling shut, leaves rustling under shoes, he must be outside now.

"Alright, okay yeah, so we found him at Rick's and he's really upset and he's been asking for you. I know it's late but can you meet us out here? And maybe, uh, stay with him?"

It's not even worth questioning. You're already wearing shoes. Your biggest hoodie in tow, you stumble into your kitchen with the intention to raid your own snack drawer. Pulling out Eddie's favourite, which you of course had stocked up on ever since hanging out with him at your place had become more of a weekly routine for the both of you.

Ten minutes, you told him. You'd be there in ten.

The drive feels like forever. The longest ten minutes of your life, you think.

You know the route like the back of your hand, having driven along the gravelly road leading from the last intersection before Hawkins' border to the outer world, to the serene woods surrounding Lover's Lake countless times. Eddie would take you here ever so often, for picnics, an occasional smoke after picking up a new delivery from Rick's, cloud or star gazing, listening to Metallica and Tears for Fears on Wayne's old walkman.

The gravel crunches underneath your white reeboks as they land on the ground. You close the door to your car as quietly as possible after you've taken out the bag and your hoodie.

Dustin and Steve are stood outside the boathouse, waving like madmen in the darkness once you come into their periphery.

The younger boy hugs you tightly.

"So glad you could make it", he gets out, the relief palpable through his voice as well as the grip he holds you in for a brief moment.

You look at them both after Steve presses you against him cordially, and breathe out through your nose, making your nostrils flare.

Dustin cracks open the case to you as he starts to ramble about the state in which they found your best friend, "well first he attacked Steve with a broken bottle, we had to put in great effort to convince him that we'd be on his side, and we came to the conclusion that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, basically."

What you want right now goes without saying. Everyone here knows how close you and Eddie are. As friends, of course. No one would think anything different.

Without wasting another second, the boys lead you inside where Max and Robin are knelt on the wooden floor. Heads turning towards the entrance of the room where you're now standing.

The sight of what's offered to your eyes, sitting opposite of them, breaks your heart.

You can see that he's slightly shivering, eyes glassy in the dim lit room. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips though once his brain grasps your presence, and he can't help anymore but let the water fall once his eyes lock with yours.

The pain that is swimming in those two deep warm brown oceans hits you like a dagger to the chest. Over the months of being friends with him you'd seen him various different states, none of them comparable to this.

"Peach", his shaky voice announces your arrival and the sound of your nickname spilling from his lips cracks through your bones. The bag that's slung around your shoulder drops onto the wood with a dull thud.

Wobbly legs carry him towards you with a gentle shove past Robin and Max. You're once again reminded of your best friend's sheer physical strength as he wraps his arms around you, instantly burying his face into the crook of your neck.

One arm of your own sneaks around his torso, pressing him against you as tightly as your own strength allows you, while your other hand comes up to bury itself underneath the mane and to end up scratching soothingly over the scalp above the nape of his neck.

Eddie lets out a muffled sob, sniffling into the collar of the sweatshirt you threw on in a haste. He doesn't really want anyone to see him like this, certainly not Steve Harrington, so he clutches onto you so tightly that he thinks you might just feel his heavy heart beating anxiously against your chest.

And you do. How could you not with the amount of world he means to you? Like an automatism your other hand rubs slow circles over his back. Comforting him in the best way you could. Not a conscious decision you make.

"Okay so, m'not meaning to ruin the party, in fact I'd love to stay for another round of doom talk, but I really should get home soon, guys", Robin scratches the back of her head after she gets up from her huddled position next to the wooden crate Eddie had been sitting on. Max joins in and agrees, mumbling something about having to move her mom from being passed out on the couch again into her bed.

"Yeah me too, actually. My dad's gonna be fucking pissed. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?", Steve's voice echoes through the room and you can tell he's already shoved Dustin back outside, itching to drive the kid home.

As Eddie processes having to stay in hiding, added the possibility of everyone leaving without him, his grip on you tightens even more.

"It's okay, Eds", you speak softly, head slightly tilted so your cheek rests on the dark frizzy mop you could call his hair. The skin on his neck and scalp so warm underneath your fingertips as you keep scratching it, emphasizing your presence, "I'll stay."

A soft muffled whimper is what you get as a response, and the way he lets you see him in this state melts your insides to a puddle.

You just need him to be okay.

They wave their goodbyes behind your back, accompanied by mumbles of "see you in the morning", and you can't even bring yourself to turn your head around, fully focused on making the young man in your arms less terrified of the world. A world he was sure was now going to come for him with all its force – in deep conviction of him being responsible for Chrissy's misfortunate end.

The door falls shut and Eddie muffles a quiet thank you into the fabric of your sweatshirt. The skin on your neck is damp with his tears, wet eyelashes tickling every time he blinks.

"It's okay, Eds", you softly keep repeating your words to him while continuously rubbing over the denim of his signature Dio vest in a slow motion, when he feels the urgency to claim the truth into the collar of your sweater about what has happened, "I– I didn't do it, I swear."

As if you would need any convincing.

"Oh no of course you didn't, I know that", you're looking for a way to ease the distress this entire situation is causing him, his quivering voice adding to your desire to soothe him to inner peace, "can I make a suggestion?"

Eddie nods with another sniffle against your collarbone, the round wet tip of his nose brushing against the column of your throat lightly. To his ears, your voice sounds like silk right about now.

"How about we head over to the main house and get ourselves a little more comfortable? Since we're gonna be here for a little longer? My god you probably haven't slept or eaten at all, have you?"

You can feel him nod his head again with a hum this time, and you start to think that the tears might not just be pouring because he just witnessed someone suffer a gruesome death right in front of him, but also due to physical exhaustion.

It makes your heart ache even more, that tingle still present, even more so now. It hurts to see your best friend hurt.

He just needs to be okay. And in that heart of yours there's that little spark of hope that leads you to believe you could be the one helping him with that.

You'd really want that. Be all his to find comfort in, to hold close, to kiss stupid

Stop.

A sigh escapes your lungs at the thought. That tingle, that longing, it's selfish. It familiarly pools in your belly and slowly drips downwards. You push your brain aside. This is about soothing your best friend now.

"C'mon then", you utter softly, encouraging him with your hand to lift his head from where it leans against your shoulder.

For your heart it's almost too much to look at, the hurt still swimming in the glassy big brown irises, his waterline red and puffy. The soft smile returning to his lips causes the wet apples of his cheeks to push up slightly, reflecting the dim light coming from the one torch Robin left you, placed on one of the crates.

He really hadn't been able to close an eye for a single second since he he'd gotten up for school the day prior.

You smile back at him almost bashfully as you slowly create space between your bodies.

Eddie is grateful that it's you who grabs his ringed hand next.

He squeezes yours, hoping to get the message of this meaning something to him across.

And he closely trails behind you as you lead the way.

The house feels empty, like no one's really been here in months. You'd never been inside. The few times you'd accompanied Eddie grabbing stash you'd stayed in his van, waiting. But as far as you now can make out in the darkness, there's a couch with knitted blankets, a little TV with a whole stack of VHS almost rising as high as the screen itself, spilled and spluttered empty cans and papers and wrappings littered all around. Maybe this is why he never let you come inside with him. Keeping you out of this definitely not sterile mess. Along with keeping you out of the business.

In the middle of the living room, you let go of his hand and shuffle one step away from him. He's inside now. Safe. Job done. Doesn't need physical contact. You shouldn't, he's your friend. You feel like something between you would break if you'd go there.

Eddie thinks otherwise, regarding close proximity at least. He promptly follows you into what you believe to be the kitchen where you hope you might find a tea bag or two. He comes up behind you and encases you in his arms as you rummage through the cabinets (feels familiar, hm?), not at all ready to say goodbye to the warmth of your body pressed against his own just yet.

You giggle at the silliness of him putting weight on you just to make it harder for you to reach into the cabinets. It's endearing. And very Eddie.

Twenty minutes later and there's two mugs – cleaned to your best ability – with steaming hot liquid on the sixties wooden coffee table. Next to them a plate filled with the almost equally hot insides of a ravioli in tomato sauce can. Thank Rick for a still functioning microwave.

You drape the knitted blankets over both you and Eddie as you settle into the cushions. The only light existent coming from two lit candles on said coffee table. It wouldn't be too wise setting up the torch you think.

The side of Eddie's face glows in the orange yellow, his wide brown bambi eyes dried after the first grand storm, and there's this tug on the corner of his pink plush lips again. He exchanged his leather jacket for the freshly washed hoodie for comfort and a small part of you hopes he doesn't spill his dinner onto any of it.

You lean back into the backrest of the worn out couch and watch as he eats, a domestic thing you've done a thousand times already, yet you still find comfort in knowing that he's nourishing himself.

Or well, in this case, inhaling the raviolis.

"Thank you Peach", he moves to put the empty plate back on the coffee table and it makes the spoon chink and glide along the edge, "I really needed this."

His voice is a little hoarse, probably from the emotions of the hours behind him. Maybe he has indeed calmed down a little. His hand moves down to your thigh, squeezing.

You give him the most empathetic smile you can bring yourself to display, painfully aware of the blaze that is transpiring through your leggings and seeping into your bones, "it's no big deal, really. I mean it is– uh, being there for you, is."

And he can't bring himself to look up at you. Instead, he stares at the empty plate on that coffee table in front of him.

"And to me as well. It really helps that you're here."

He doesn't bother moving the calloused warmth of his hand from the soft warmth of your thigh. It lights your entire nervous system on fire. In a good way.

And that's when you begin to wonder if everything that has just happened and is still happening right now changes anything.

"I'm so glad it does", is all you're able to get out.

Eddie decides that it's time to lean into your side and wrap his arms around your torso once again, drop his head back to its favourite place with a soft content little hum.

He just needs physical comfort. Of course. Just that. Nothing more, nothing else.

The words are redundant but your mouth articulates them anyway, "try to get some sleep, yeah?"

His back already lifts and falls evenly. You place your hand on the back of his head that rests in the crook of your neck again, scratching through the curls lightly, searching to help him shut off even deeper.

–––––

The candles have gone out by the time your eyelids slowly open. It takes you a moment to recall the location you fell asleep in, and you hope that the nightly darkness the whole room is now filled with hasn't invited any stranger to take advantage of your unconsciousness.

There's a warm hand holding your face, the pad of a thumb tracing over the apple of your cheek softly. It makes its way from the bridge of your nose to the outer corner of your eye, and back. And forth. And back. And forth.

You must have moved to lie down on your back in your sleep, with Eddie's weight still on your body, legs entangled. It's not the first time you've slept like this, there had been movie nights that had ended similarly.

His hand caressing your cheek though, yeah that is new. There's something unspoken in the air this time around. Your stomach is doing flip flops when you realise that he is propped up on his elbow, just .. looking at you. With eyes that don't require light to hint at whatever it is he is trying to say, or maybe not trying at all.

"Eds, what are you doing?", you ask almost in a whisper followed by a lopsided smile, expecting an unserious answer, because he always tends to make a joke whenever he tries to avoid conversing about emotions regarding his heart.

His thumb stops its acrobatics on your cheek, comes to a halt.

"I'm–", he takes a deep breath before he continues, "I'm just so grateful it's you that's here right now."

Your hand comes up to cup his. Brush over his rough knuckles with a thumb of your own. Enjoying the warmth that is seeping from his palm into your skin.

"Yeah, I figured you were gonna be a little opposed to spending the night with Harrington", you laugh, an attempt to turn your nerves into humour.

Eddie snorts a little, "yeah right, it's almost like you know me", he grins and pushes himself even closer to your face than he already is. It doesn't necessarily help in extinguishing the fire that's consuming you whole at this point.

"It's almost like we're best friends and I know what you think of him because every time Dustin or literally anyone else mentions his name around you, you're not necessarily secretive about it."

"Hey, my own worldview is not my fault, it's just– ... he just kinda seems like a douche of the highest order."

"He's quite alright, Eds. Try giving him a chance, I think he'd look great as Coffin's tambourinist."

He snorts again and you feel his breath on the column of your neck next when he dips his head down, nose pressing against the soft skin, his small giggle being swallowed by the collar of your sweatshirt.

Your favourite sound. Ever. Followed by the relieved moan Eddie lets out at the way your other hand is softly rubbing over his shoulder blade. The vibration against your neck makes you twitch as much as being pinned into the couch cushions by his body allows you.

It's soothing as much for you as it is for him.

When he lifts his head, the soft gaze he eyes you with is enough to let the goosebumps erupt. Even in the darkness of the room you can still make out those round buttons that could melt the entire north pole.

"Thank you, Peach, really. I'd be goin' mental right now and probably tryin' to counter that by smoking an equally mental amount of the stash I've been hiding here."

Your heart aches.

"I'm just glad I can be that kind of comfort to you, Eds. You don't have to go through whatever the fuck this is alone."

"I know I'm never gonna be alone as long as you are there."

You almost cry yourself now, his words making your hand travel from his own to his cheek, almost passing out from the way his eyes bore into your own once again.

Eddie isn't sure what it is that is making him feel lightheaded right now. The whole rollercoaster of events of the past hours. Or your words of affirmation. Or mayhaps it is your cute soft hand with that little ring on your thumb which is gently swiping over his damp skin.

That cute soft hand he'd been imagining countless times at night, silently yearning for your eyes to look at him differently, to finally see him in a different light the next time you'd hang out.

Probably a combination of just everything.

You reciprocate his soft half-lidded gaze, hand moving from his cheek to tuck some of his hair behind his left ear, revealing that delicate silver hoop earring you'd gifted to him for his birthday, after having talked your ear off about getting his ear pierced for literal months.

He'd insisted you join him for the appointment, "another metal moment for the books", as Eddie had called it, the need to have his hand held during the stab comically urgent in the way his voice sounded when he called you that day. And in the pace in which he picked you up.

"I'm here no matter what", you respond to his sentiment, that hand that brushed his hair away resting on the side of his neck while leaning the weight of your head into his palm that is still attached to your cheek.

Eddie's confidence reaches a new all time high with the admission of your unconditional support being stirred into the cocktail of hormones and emotions that's been circulating in his bloodstream for a generous amount of time now.

Because then he goes on by saying impossible things.

Impossible things with a slightly less platonic undertone.

"You're so fucking sweet, has anyone ever told you?"

You smile as you shake your head, heat rising to your cheeks once again and you're sure he won't be able to see just how flustered he's getting you (joke's on you he does).

You're also sure he's out of his mind for saying that. Now.

"A shame, honestly. You should scold your best friend for not telling you sooner. Tell him what a fucking idiot he is."

Eddie earns another giggle from you. Music to his ears. Better than Metallica. Okay maybe not but .. pretty fucking close.

"I'll let him know next time I see him", you say with a grin, playing along with pleasure, and you ask yourself why it is only now that you realise just how fucking close his face is to yours.

There is a moment of silence in which Eddie hesitates articulating whatever is seemingly bugging his mind.

"Do you, uh, still like him?"

If you lifted your head just a little your noses would be touching. A silly and utmost redundant question, and yet, Eddie dreads your answer. If the circumstances were different, less dystopian and tragic, you'd seriously wonder what would spark the doubt in your friendship in him, but considering that everyone else would be going to pour their judgement over him, you understand.

Every word exchanged between the two of you at this hour is soaked in mutual infatuation, something the idiots in both of you are slowly starting to fathom as well.

"Of course I do, he's everything to me."

As you say it, you can't help the grin which reappears reliably each time you finish verbalizing your thoughts. It's contagious, you notice.

"And do you think – just hypothetically of course", it's only then he breaks eye contact to clear his throat, "of course", you interrupt him still smiling and cocking an eyebrow at him, "d'ya think it would be okay for this best friend to, uh, maybe...", Eddie pauses, internally watching the ship containing his confidence set sail slowly and ultimately letting the irrational thoughts win for tonight, "would you let him..."

Eddie generally wasn't someone who lacked confidence. It showed in the way he boisterously wandered the halls of Hawkins High, the way his demeanor never changed, his mask never faltered no matter who was around. Except for you. You who he had always granted a look underneath the impulsive, extroverted surface.

"Eds", you try everything in your power to stay calm even though everything inside of you is screaming right now and you're certain you can feel your pulse in your earlobes.

"Would it be just insane of that best friend to kiss you right now?"

You want to squeal and kick your feet, pull him into your face, pinch your own forearm, pass away, leave the house and never return, and stay right where you are forever, buried underneath your favourite metalhead, the parts where your bodies are touching practically on fire, cosy and content.

Instead, the most fond smile spreads over your lips as you try to contain your internal overwhelm.

It's still dark, the only light source being the full moon outside. Eddie's so hopeful of your reciprocation and even more terrified of ruining his entire life at the same time, those deep doe eyes at this point pretty much resemble the shape of the space rock orbiting earth. Rejection from you, his pretty Peach and the Bonnie to his Clyde, would be unbearable.

"I think so," you almost whisper, the hand that's been rubbing over Eddie's back coming up to lightly trace one of his eyebrows with your index finger because you just can't seem to not touch him in some way, "but you should know that I love his insanity."

Your small giggle is being silenced by a soft and cautious kiss from Eddie Munson. Like he doesn't want to break you. Or he's afraid you'll snap out of a haze, slap him and leave if he starts kissing you like he really wants to.

And then it's you who goes for it, you feel at home, right where you belong, you don't think you've ever felt this good. The hand on his jaw tugs him closer softly, pressing your lips to his with a bit more urgency.

It gives him all the confirmation he could possibly need.

That tingle, it grows and fills up your chest and shoots through your entire being, goosebumps and all. Eddie moans and breathes against your lips, tongue dancing over the thin skin, asking for permission.

His ringed hand digs deeper and slowly moves to the nape of your neck, intending to hold you in place, afraid you could slip away from him if he didn't. This blossoming thing between you could slip away from him. If he didn't.

It's so soft, the way his lips touch yours, and before you know it they move to your cheek, to your jaw, down your neck before Eddie comes up again, smiling from ear to ear, to gently bump his nose against the tip of yours and his lips return home with a soft and deep hum escaping from his lungs into your mouth.

Relief floods his veins along with whatever it is you're doing to him. The ability to shut out the insanity of the past hours is what he so desperately wants to cling to for as long as you allow him, even if the dawn will remind him of the horrid reality he's involuntarily become subject to live through now.

"You're making things so much better, Peach, you're so sweet, so fucking cute, so fucking good for me, do you even know for how long I've been dreaming of this?"

Eddie greedily pulls your face into his again, not even giving you a chance to reply and not nearly getting enough of your affection it seems with how fervently his tongue searches for yours.

A gentle collision of skin.

The soft whimpers you let out only spur him on. You not backing away from him, staying with him, letting him be this close to you?

You, the only constant source of consolation Eddie's ever really had.

Life changing.

Soft touches follow soft touches, your thumb traces his jaw repeatedly.

"You don't–", kiss, "for how long–", kiss, "I've been dreaming–", kiss, "of you as well", you breathe against him and Eddie thinks he might be about to resort to sniffling into your collar again with the amount of relief he is experiencing.

You'd let him.

"Yeah?", he presses his nose into your cheek with his eyes closed, smiling from ear to ear, relaxing his entire body into yours as you let him slide inbetween your legs.

"Yeah, you know how much of a sucker I am for peaches", you grin, another peck to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, your hips slowly finding a rhythm against his own.

Eddie groans at your allusion with a wide grin on his face (and the feeling of your warmth against his dick), before pressing his lips against yours again lovingly, "me too baby, me too."

–––

taglist (thought you might be interested): @josephfakingquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @analogkraken, @wroteclassicaly, @songforeddiemunson, @joejoequinnquinn, @somnambulic-thing, @trashmouth-richie, @eddddiemunson, @ceriseheaven, @userchai

comments, reblogs and other forms of affection towards the author are greatly appreciated thank youuuuu <3

#nora writes #get the peaches #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #this took me way too fucking long to finish holy shit #but it's here now #it's here !!!#finally lol #also sorry for the title it makes me cringe but i couldn't come up with anything else for the life of me #oh well i hope y'all enjoy this either way :)#thank u for reading <3

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 year ago

Text

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")

warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate

a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!

w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)

Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident.

He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you.

From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again.

Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out.

Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out.

It all started when David scolded him.

“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.

The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.

Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”

Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.

“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”

Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“

Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”

Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”

Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.

Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”

Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”

The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”

Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.

Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.

Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”

David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”

David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”

Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.

You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”

The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”

Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”

Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”

What had he gotten himself into?

Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.

With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.

“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”

Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.

“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.

As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”

Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.

“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”

“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.

“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.

While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.

“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.

Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive.

“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table.

Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”

“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.

“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.

“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.

You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.

“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.

Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”

“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.

“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.

“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”

Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.

As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.

“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.

“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.

“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.

“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.

“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.

“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.

“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.

“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.

Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.

Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.

“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.

”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.

Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.

A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”

Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”

“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.

The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.

It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.

Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.

Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”

“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.

“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."

"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.

"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."

"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.

Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.

"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."

As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"

Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."

The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word.

Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face.

“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.”

Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.”

“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple.

“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.

After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?”

“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.

Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.

Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."

Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.

Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”

“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.

Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”

Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."

You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.

Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.

Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.

Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.

"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.

"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"

Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."

Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.

“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”

Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.

Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.

“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”

Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”

It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.

The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.

Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.

“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”

Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“

”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.

”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“

Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“

Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.

Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.

”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.

Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”

”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?

Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.

“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.

“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“

Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“

As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”

The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.

God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.

“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.

“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.

“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.

“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.

“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced.

“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”

Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications.

“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–

“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”

“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”

“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.

“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.

Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.

“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.

“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.

“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.

Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.

“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”

Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.

After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.

It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all.

Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.

Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.

“I need to see your phone.” His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.

“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment.

Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”

Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about.

Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him.

“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch.

“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.

Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”

“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him.

“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.

“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.

“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.

“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording.

Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”

“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.

Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”

“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!”

“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”

By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”

“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.

“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space.

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did.

“I hope you made it home safe–”

You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening.

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.

“I'll always keep you safe–”

Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button–

“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”

His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.

Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face.

“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.

His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.

“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.

“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.

“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.

“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came.

Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you.

“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground.

Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced.

Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem.

Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache.

“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it.

“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”

Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”

“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”

“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.”

Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move.

Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.

Thanks for reading!!

#frank castle #my writing #frank castle x reader #the punisher #marvel #nmcu #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x you #the punisher x reader #the punisher imagine #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #fc

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unwantedshivering · 3 months ago

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

HEADCANONS for KEVIN KATCHADOURIAN as you try and figure out what he truly feels about you.

MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: mentions of reader death, emotional manipulation, overall toxicity

FOR: Kevin Khatchadourian

NOTES: @slasherscream totally inspired this, their characterization of kevin made me want to write for him !! :) this is entirely too long to be considered hcs btw

HOW IT STARTS

Truly, you believed he hated you. Why else would he stare as though he was trying to telekinetically explode your head? It’s a wonder how you even started hanging around him. It wasn’t necessarily out of your own volition, really, as you were just the Khatchadourians’ neighbor tutoring and hanging out with Celia in exchange for your sibling receiving archery lessons.

You grew up practically adjacent to Eva’s household, so it was just a small, kind gesture you’d do when you visited from college. You remembered that weary, worn down visage of hers from your childhood and let it pull at your heartstrings. You were sensitive, and perhaps that’s what drew him in.

You were watching a kid’s movie with Celia, and unbeknownst to you: Kevin was eyeing you.

He wasn’t usually home, off in his room when he wasn’t attending his own classes. Quiet. Off-putting as he would taper down the creaking steps, barely acknowledging your presence before leaving. Usually he’d grab an apple, glance over you as if you were nothing but air.

It was intriguing to you. Kevin had always been intriguing to you. He was unnaturally, uncannily pretty. Like a bust set on display within his own modern-century home, you couldn’t touch or manage to decipher him. It was embarrassing to say he had been the face of several boyfriends in your silly teenage dreams.

It was pure happenstance as he came down just in time to watch as you hiccuped during the movie, tears streaming down your face. Celia was long-gone off in dreamland on the couch.

It wasn’t enthrallment that Kevin felt. It wasn’t even want. It was a sick, morbid curiosity. Celia, despite her humanity, wasn’t entertaining to Kevin anymore. Not as she was when she was eight and entirely naïve, cut bare in her love for her big brother.

You gave him something new. He halted in his steps. For the first time in simply years, you heard Kevin speak to you.

“Stay a little bit longer.”

Through your own bewilderment, you agreed. Kevin had no reason to continue his sweet, loving son act. Not really. Still, he smiled something that could only be described as honey. It was drenched in a sickening sweetness, something with a bite. A bit of blood in his teeth.

He took you archery shooting. It was way past the acceptable time for you to be in the Khatchadourian household, and yet you stayed. Fly wrapped in silk. Bug to be eaten, saved for later.

It felt magical to be the center of Kevin Khatchadourian’s attention. In school he was a little misunderstood and disconcerting, but nothing truly horrific happened. It was that same quietness he displayed that made him so elusive, so lovely to you.

He displayed amazing skill when it came to archery, a terrifying mastery. You only chuckled nervously when it whizzed past you, making your hair stand on end and fingers clench.

“I’m sorry,” he said, yet it was low, accompanied by eyes that seemed anything but apologetic. “You should really stand on the side, I must’ve overshot it.”

HOW HE IS IN THE BEGINNING

As you continued staying longer, mutual exchange forgotten, he grew more and more expressionless. The most he would usher you was a glance under firm eyebrows, a wry little twitch of lips when you did something particularly amusing. You felt like a piece of brain tissue on a petri dish.

Kevin was actually scarily kind to your sibling and family though. It was like a flip-switch: he went from helping your mother with carrying dinner to silently staring at you, trying to pick apart your body, all smiles and good-boy mirth gone from his eyes. Most of the time, he fiddled with his technology as you did your own thing. Reading? He’d be clicking away, his incessant typing as your white noise. Crochet? Doing it outside as he practiced archery. Talking? He’d stare to let you know he’s listening.

Unfortunately, this still left you neglected. Initiating physicality was on his own terms, and you’d get a quick look before being brushed off if he wasn’t into it. Speaking about your troubles with him is met with silence. At the beginning, it was even met with slight condescension and mockery. One step forward? It didn’t matter, Kevin himself was never going to be able to fulfill all of your needs.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t have other friends. Most of them didn’t know Kevin. If they did, they didn’t speak of him to you; speaking of him made you jittery, a little doe-eyed, but you always spoke of him fondly. They could never understand why.

Kevin knew all your friends. You were at a house party, introducing them with a blinding grin on your face. He disliked them. If there was one thing he held other than apathy, other than wanting to feel more than he’s capable of, it was the need to harbor your attention. You were his only source of anything. You were clearly fond of him, no matter how strange or unnerving he showed to be. You talked seamlessly and mindlessly about your interests. He knew sunsets were pretty, but because he saw them through you. He knew what cafés were the best, what to get his mother for a gift when Frank pressured him to.

In the same breath, Kevin resented and found himself thinking often on that part of you. There wasn’t a way he could name it, but the feeling was dull. It stung a bit, hearing you speak about anything outside of his reach. He liked the sting somedays: it was proof he felt. Other than his heart thrumming in his ears, he felt something other than disdain and unadulterated anger.

He hated feeling jealousy, though.

It was quiet like the rest of him. Your friend, Matt, kept pushing. It was becoming sickeningly obvious that he thought of you more than a friend, and yet whether it be your own denseness or the fact that you’d known Matt since forever, you didn’t stop him. Not the meaningless touches on your arm, not the compliments on things only Kevin thought he’d noticed about you. Sick. Sick. It was that old, juvenile anger he felt spike again.

There was a barely there acknowledgement of the fact that you were attractive. He found you attractive even faintly. Then, there was the notion of your attractiveness shoved in his face. Others found you attractive.

His family already assumed you were dating. You hung around too often for them to not believe so. Your friends? They didn’t know. Before this, Kevin didn’t necessarily care whether or not you were called his significant other or the person he kept around. It was only then where he realized the perks of you being his: no Matt.

It was impulsive. He kissed you. It was under the porch light after Matt hugged you goodbye, and as he started to pull out of the driveway Kevin ducked in for the kill. It was impulsive, a bit too strong, and left you lightheaded like you drank more than you should’ve. Being with Kevin was like being an alcoholic.

There was an emptiness in his eyes as he pulled away. He didn’t even hold your cheek, he simply ducked forward. You felt… odd. Confused and a bit embarrassed that you let him do that simply for his own whim. What you didn’t see were the indents of Kevin’s fingers in the cup he was holding onto the entire time, the way he fiddled with the lighter in his pocket, the way his jaw clenched.

WHY STAY

There’s a certain value Kevin placed on you. You don’t know if it’s that of a toy, lover, or a third scarier option. There’s a big chance you’d never know either.

What you do know is that he’d give you his jacket when it’s cold, and surprisingly he’d take off yours for you when you enter his house. It’s done so casually that you forget it’s typically uncharacteristic of him.

He played nice with Celia when you were around. He played nice with your family, to the point where you might even misunderstand and believe he wanted them to think highly of him.

Kevin could be awfully kind. It’s never a kindness for the sake of it, but it only ever distinctly shows itself around you. If you were ever sick or vice versa, you’re spending all your time around him for the day.

If he had the fever, he’d push his forehead against yours while you’re both lying down, lazily breathing with his eyes closed. If you were the one ill, Kevin sits on the bed instead, placing one hand on your hand or your forehead. It’s a cool, light feeling. His hand is large enough for it to fully encompass your face if he so wished, or at least your neck, and yet he chose to be gentle.

He doesn’t like the idea of you being special to him though; the fact that you’re exempt from even some of his antagonizing ministrations makes it frustrating. You shouldn’t be. You were something he hung around and dated technically, so the idea of you actually being the definition of a significant other made him heavy in the chest.

If you show that you like the idea of being special to him, at least in the beginning, it’s easier for him to pull away. Whether physically or emotionally, he can shut off completely from you. Deciding to stay is what does it for him. How can you stay? Even with all the silence and work it takes for him to do anything?

His kisses grow less rushed. They’re even somewhat experimental later on. Kevin doesn’t really know if he likes it, but he knows you do. A nip at your lip, eyes closed, fluctuating pressure. He’s a fast learner. He’d pull away prematurely, waiting to see how you’d react. Usually he’d just walk away afterwards like nothing happened, but if he’s feeling the reactive impulse to he’ll duck right back in.

Kisses with Kevin leave you panting. Sometimes you believe he truly is attempting to steal your breath, and he might just be. He has more often than not almost let the arrow hit you when you watch him practice archery. It never does, but it’s always close. There’s a furrow in his brow afterward, like he’s examining how he himself feels on you almost dying by his own hands.

He has also more often than not found that it leaves him annoyed.

#kevin khatchadourian x reader #we need to talk about kevin #kevin khatchadourian #kevin khatchadourian x you #kevin khatchadourian hcs #kevin khatchadourian angst #kevin khatchadourian fic #kevin khatchadourin drabble #kevin khatchadourian fluff #kevin khatchadourian x y/n #kevin khatchadourian imagine

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latanyalove · 11 months ago

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Stay the Night with Me

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Pairing: Eustass Kid x Y/N

Dialogue: “Stay the night with me. Please…” 🧲😡

A/n: It's very long so get ready for this 9,413 long story which is also going to have a Part 2 :) .I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

Taglist: @stuckinthewrongworld for the idea!

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"Stay the night with me. Please…" The plea hung in the air, charged with emotion. The magnetism of desire clashed with a hint of frustration.

The request was simple yet layered with unspoken words, begging for a response. The intensity of the moment lingered, waiting for a decision to be made.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with anticipation and uncertainty.

Each heartbeat echoed loudly in the room, underscoring the weight of the request and the gravity of the unspoken emotions that hung in the air. . . .

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Eustass Kid, also known as the "Captain" of the Kid Pirates, is a notorious and feared pirate in the One Piece world. With his magnetic powers and fiery temper, he is not someone to be messed with.

Eustass Kid strikes fear into the hearts of both his allies and enemies alike, as his magnetic powers allow him to manipulate and control metal with deadly precision.

Combined with his explosive temper, he is a truly terrifying force to reckon with on the high seas.

You, being the newest member of the Straw Hat Pirates, had heard of the infamous Eustass Kid and his crew. They were known for their brutal methods and lack of mercy towards their enemies.

So when your crew unexpectedly crossed paths with the Kid Pirates, you were on high alert.

Luffy and the rest of the crew seemed more relaxed with the Kid Pirates, maybe it was because they had defeated many enemies side by side or maybe Luffy was too gullible into trusting him so easily.

But not you. You weren't going to fall for his tricks.

You sat far from the group, who looked like they were having the time of their lives, while you glared straight at the red-haired pirate with cautious eyes. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was more to Eustass Kid than meets the eye, and you vowed to keep a close watch on him, ready to defend yourself and your crew if necessary.

"Hey, why aren't you with the group celebrating?" Nami said curiously behind you.

Startled by Nami's sudden voice, you turned around quickly, trying to hide your unease. "Oh, I just needed some fresh air," you replied, forcing a smile.

"So why are you staring at Kidd like that?" Nami teased, sitting beside you.

You hesitated for a moment, then leaned in closer to whisper, "I can't quite put my finger on it, but something about him just doesn't sit right with me. I think there's more to him than meets the eye, and I don't trust him."

"Or maybe," Nami started, leaning closer, "You just like him,"

"No way!" you jumped back, feeling your face heat up. "That's not it at all! I just have a gut feeling about him, that's all."

Nami smirked mischievously and nudged your shoulder. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

Nami then stood up, said goodbye, and walked over to the group, leaving you alone with your thoughts. As you continued to observe Eustass Kid from afar, you couldn't help but wonder what secrets he was hiding beneath that intimidating exterior. . . .

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The atmosphere suddenly shifted as Sanji and some of Kid's crew finished preparing the feast. The cheers and laughter grew louder, and even Luffy couldn't contain his excitement.

"Y/N, the food is ready," You opened your eyes to see Killer standing over you, his mask covering his face as usual.

Killer, the stoic and enigmatic member of the Kid Pirates, rarely showed any emotion. His mask concealed his face, adding to the air of mystery surrounding him. It was hard to read his intentions or gauge his reactions, making him an even more intriguing figure to watch closely.

As he extended a hand to help you up, you couldn't help but wonder what lies behind that enigmatic facade.

With a yawn, you took his hand and stood up, ready to join the festivities.

Unfortunately, you had to sit beside Kid to eat as all the other seats were taken. As you took your place beside him, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease and curiosity, wondering what secrets he was hiding and if they would ever come to light.

As you ate, you noticed that Kid was always tense even when he laughed, his body language betraying a constant state of alertness. It was as if he carried a weight on his shoulders, constantly on guard.

It only fueled your suspicion that there was indeed something more to him than meets the eye.

Suddenly, Kid stopped eating, his eyes darting around the room with a heightened sense of vigilance. His grip on his utensils tightened, and a frown creased his forehead as if he had sensed something amiss.

"I have to go," he said, suddenly standing up and walking over to where the ships were anchored.

Everyone was confused for a while but then they went back to talking to each other except Killer.

Killer's gaze remained fixed on the spot where Kid had disappeared to, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. It was clear that he knew more than he let on, and you couldn't help but wonder what he had seen or sensed that made him so focused on Kid's departure.

Despite Killer's intense gaze and the mysterious departure of Kid, you chose to dismiss any concerns and immerse yourself in the joyous celebration.

It was a time to revel in the camaraderie and enjoy the feast, leaving any thoughts of hidden secrets and enigmatic figures for another day.

As the night wore on and the merriment continued, you found yourself in a friendly competition with Zoro to see who could hold their liquor better.

Shots were poured and downed, laughter and cheers filled the air, and for a fleeting moment, all thoughts of Kid and his mysterious aura faded away as you focused on the exhilarating challenge at hand.

"Okay, I give up," you declared, placing the bowl back onto the table. The drinking competition had taken its toll, and you were finally admitting defeat.

As you leaned back in your chair, feeling the effects of the alcohol, your mind couldn't help but wander back to the enigmatic figure of Kid and the unanswered questions that still lingered in the air.

As you stumbled away from the festivities, a nagging thought tugged at the back of your mind, reminding you that there was still much to uncover about Kid and the secrets he held.

As you stumbled towards the ships, the sound of a muffled voice reached your ears, growing louder with each step.

It sounded like a scream, piercing through the night air with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. Your heart raced as you followed the sound, the darkness shrouding the source of the scream adding to the sense of unease and mystery that surrounded Kid's sudden departure.

You quickened your pace towards the ships, your footsteps echoing through the quiet night. Suddenly, a loud bang reverberated through the air, causing the Kid Pirates' ship to tremble slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realised that there was more to Kid's disappearance than meets the eye.

It was when you saw something red out of the corner of your eye, but it disappeared as soon as you turned to get a better look. The fleeting glimpse left you with a sense of unease and a nagging feeling that there was a deeper mystery surrounding Kid's disappearance.

"I can help you!" you yelled, your voice slurred because of the alcohol. But your words seemed to get lost in the night, swallowed by the darkness and the unsettling silence that followed.

Your vision then went black, and you went unconscious, collapsing onto the ground. The last thing you heard before succumbing to darkness was the distant sound of footsteps approaching, leaving you with an unsettling sense of dread and the lingering question of what had truly transpired that night. . . .

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You woke up with a massive headache, the events of the previous night still hazy in your mind. As you tried to piece together the fragments of your memory, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something sinister had unfolded while you were unconscious.

You didn't remember how you had ended up in bed yesterday, yet here you were, tucked in your bed with no recollection of how you got there.

The missing hours only added to the mysterious puzzle surrounding Kid's disappearance, leaving you desperate for answers and determined to uncover the truth.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, wincing as the throbbing pain intensified. The room spun as you stood up, and you had to steady yourself against the dresser.

As you stumbled towards the bathroom, you couldn't help but wonder if the events of the night before were somehow connected to your own sudden blackout.

You splashed cold water on your face, hoping to clear your mind and shake off the remnants of the alcohol-induced haze.

As you looked at your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but notice a faint red mark on your neck, as if someone had grabbed you forcefully.

The realisation sent a shiver down your spine, as you began to suspect that there might have been more to your blackout than just excessive drinking. The red mark on your neck hinted at a possible altercation or even an encounter with someone who had a vested interest in Kid's disappearance.

Feeling a renewed sense of urgency, you quickly changed your clothes and headed out, determined to retrace your steps from the night before and gather any clues that could shed light on what had happened during your blackout.

As you walked onto the deck of the Thousand Sunny, the talking became louder, and you realised that the voices were coming from your crewmates and Kid's crew who were gathered around, deep in conversation.

"Who could have made such a big hole?"

"Maybe there's a wild animal around. Hehehe!"

"Ahhh! I think I have a wild-monster phobia!"

Curious about their discussion, you jumped off the ship and landed close by. Nami, who seemed relieved to see you, looked over at you and gestured you over.

"Apparently someone or something made a hole in Kid's ship, which means that they can't sail for a while," Nami explained, her voice filled with concern.

As you joined the group, you couldn't help but feel a sinking feeling in your gut. The timing of this incident and your blackout seemed too coincidental, making you wonder if there was a connection between the two.

"We're trying to figure out who or what could have done it. Any ideas? You were the second to leave after Kid left."

You looked around but he wasn't there. "Where is Kid?" you asked anxiously, scanning the faces of your crewmates for any sign of him.

"He's still asleep," Nami replied, her brow furrowed with worry. "Killer mentioned that Kid was knocked out cold when he checked on him earlier. So, it couldn't have been him who made the hole in the ship."

So who did you see then? Maybe it was your mind tricking you but then why do you have a mark in your neck?

As you went over to look at the damage, you noticed a familiar scent lingering in the air - the same scent that had filled your nostrils during your blackout.

This realisation made your heart race, as you began to suspect that the person responsible for the hole in Kid's ship was none other than the one who had grabbed you forcefully.

"What's that mark on your neck?" a voice said behind you, causing you to turn around in surprise.

It was Killer, Kid's loyal right-hand man, who had a concerned look on his face as he pointed at the mark.

He was looking at you with a mix of concern and suspicion, as if he already knew the answer to his own question.

"I don't know," you stated, fully facing him, "but it looks like you do." The intensity of the situation heightened as you locked eyes with Killer, realising that he might hold the key to uncovering the truth behind both the hole in the ship and your mysterious mark.

Killer sighed before gesturing over to the bench nearby, indicating that you should sit down and have a serious conversation. It seemed that he was ready to reveal the truth behind the incident and the mark on your neck, finally shedding light on the unsettling events that had taken place.

Reluctantly, you took a seat next to Killer, your heart pounding with anticipation. As he reached out to examine the mark on your neck, you flinched, still wary of his intentions.

"Trust me," Killer said softly, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I had nothing to do with this. But there's something you need to know, something that might explain everything."

The mark on your neck was unlike anything you had ever seen before. It was a metalic, etched into your skin with roughness and harshness. As Killer carefully inspected the mark, you couldn't help but notice his focused expression.

After a few moments, he retrieved a small bottle from his pouch and showing it to you.

"What is it?"

"It's a medicine for when we get hurt by...." Killer paused, dropping a few drops of the medicine into his hands and rubbing them together.

"By what?"

"By Kid," Killer replied, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and concern. "There is a time every year around now when Kid is not himself. At first, it wasn't bad but now, it's unbearable to even hear his anguishing yells."

"So it was him that was yelling yesterday," you muttered to yourself, finally connecting the dots.

"Why are you telling me this?" you turned to him, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of suspicion. Killer met your gaze, his eyes filled with determination.

"Because you're the only one who can help us stop him," he said, his voice steady.

"I've heard about your devil fruit," Killer said, his voice hopeful. "You can remove pain away from a person, right? We believe that your ability is the key to stopping Kid and preventing further harm."

You kept quiet, thinking about the weight of the responsibility that had just been placed upon you. It was a daunting task, but deep down, you knew that if there was a chance to stop Kid and protect others from his uncontrollable rage, you had to take it.

"I don't know if it will work," you explained, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Usually, my ability works to alleviate pain that is inflicted by a person or object. I've never tried to remove pain that is generated by the body itself. But I'm willing to give it a try if it means stopping Kid and protecting others from harm."

Killer nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "We understand the risks," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "But we believe in your power and know that you're our best chance to bring an end to Kid's torment."

"Okay, I can try, but there is no guarantee that something will happen," you cautiously agreed. "I'll do my best to use my ability and see if I can alleviate Kid's pain. But we need to be prepared for the possibility that it might not work."

"That's all I ask for," Killer said, gratitude evident in his voice.

As soon as you touched your neck, you felt like nothing was there. It was as if there was nothing there in the first place.

Though before you could compliment the medicine and its effectiveness, a voice caught your attention from far away.

"Jaggy! You're finally awake! Your ship has a hole. Shishishi!" Luffy's voice yelled, interrupting the serious conversation.

"Stupid monkey! You probably broke it!" Kid's voice yelled, frustration evident in his tone.

You quickly stood up and ran over to where the voice came from, eager to see what was happening and hoping that Luffy hadn't caused too much trouble.

As soon as you came into view, Kid caught you immediately and had eye contact. His expression turned from frustration to surprise, and for a moment, you could see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Jaggy! Where are you going?"

"Away from here."

You quickly walked closer to them, realising what Kid was trying to do. He was trying to distance himself from the vulnerability he had shown in that moment, pushing you away to protect himself from further emotional exposure.

"Y/N, where did you come from?" Luffy commented.

"I came to talk to Kid," you answered, your voice calm and determined.

Kid halted and turned around to face you, his eyes locked with yours. There was a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his gaze as he carefully studied your expression.

He then walked over and towered over you, his imposing figure casting a shadow. The intensity of his gaze did not waver as he leaned in closer, as if trying to unravel the mystery behind your calm and determined demeanor.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of skepticism.

"I know what you're facing. Let me help you," you muttered, your voice filled with empathy and understanding. Kid's skepticism softened slightly, and he took a step back, allowing a brief moment of vulnerability to flicker across his face once again.

His gaze shifted from Killer, who stood in the distance, to you, and then back again. It was clear that Kid was torn between trusting you and protecting himself.

"You can't help me, no one can," Kid muttered in frustration, turning around to walk away from you.

As you watched him walk away, you crossed your arms, a determined look in your eyes.

"I knew he was going to do this," Killer said, now standing beside you, "you don't have to try anymore," he reassured you, his voice filled with concern. But you couldn't give up that easily. You knew that behind Kid's tough exterior, there was someone who needed to be understood and supported.

"But I can't just give up on him," you replied, your voice filled with determination. "He may push me away now, but I believe that deep down, he still needs someone to understand and support him."

Despite his resistance, you knew that you wouldn't give up on him that easily. You were determined to break down the walls he had built around himself and show him that he didn't have to face his struggles alone.

Plus, the quicker you can help him, the quicker his ship will be fixed and the both of your crew can separate and probably never see each other again.

You were doing it solely for the sake of fixing his ship and ensuring the smooth separation of your crew, with no ulterior motives or personal gain involved. . . .

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The ship was going to take a while to repair by Franky's calculations so you had a lot of time to study Kid and the pain he was having.

Fortunately Robin was interested in basically anything to do with pain so it was easy enough to find a collection of books about the pain that Kid was feeling.

As you got to know Eustass Kid better through Killer's stories, you learned about his arm and the constant phantom pain he experienced. Despite his tough exterior, you could see the pain in his eyes whenever he clenched his fist or winced in discomfort.

You would spend nights upon nights reading about the phantom pain and how to release the pain but there was nothing like that. The thing you discovered in your research was that phantom pain is a complex phenomenon that is not fully understood, and there is no definitive method to release or eliminate the pain.

One thing you were determined to find out was whether your devil fruit powers could somehow alleviate Kid's phantom pain. You knew that even if there was no specific information on it, you wouldn't give up without trying every possible solution.

Even though Kid had started to avoid you after you confronted him, you were determined to find a way to help him. You believed that your devil fruit powers had the potential to alleviate his phantom pain, and you were willing to try every possible solution, regardless of his avoidance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

One night, both of the crew members were sitting by the fire after a long day of repairing Kid's ship and you made sure you were sitting beside Kid.

As the night went on, you watched Kid carefully for any signs of pain, hoping for an opportunity to test your theory. You then noticed a slight grimace on his face as he shifted in his seat. It was a subtle but telling indication that the phantom pain was still present.

You could see the pain etched on his face and without thinking, you reached out and gently placed your hand on his amputated arm.

To your surprise, Eustass Kid's tense muscles began to relax and the pain seemed to subside.

So your devil fruit does work on the pain that is generated by the body.

He looked at you with shock in his eyes, unable to believe that the pain he had been carrying for so long had finally eased. Kid's expression softened, and a mix of gratitude and disbelief crossed his face as he whispered, "How... how did you do that?"

"I told you that I could help you," you muttered, letting go of his arm. "Now don't you feel better?"

He nodded, still speechless, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

It was a moment of validation for both of you, confirming that your determination and belief in your devil fruit powers had paid off in helping alleviate Kid's phantom pain.

"Good, now I'll be going to sleep early," you muttered, standing up and walking back to the ship.

Usually when you used your devil fruit on people who are injured, you would only get the smallest headache and that was hardly the case but when you used it on Kid, you felt like all of your energy was drained out of you.

As you made your way back to the ship, you could feel Kid's gaze burning into your back. His eyes followed your figure, filled with a mix of shock and disbelief. It was clear that the impact of your ability to alleviate his phantom pain had left him speechless, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

"What happened?" Killer asked, nudging Kid's arm, breaking the silence that had settled over the two of them.

Kid looked at him, his expression still filled with shock and disbelief, before finally finding his voice. "I don't know," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "But whatever it was, it worked."

"What worked?"

Kid stated, his voice filled with awe, "She stopped my phantom pain, just like she said she would."

"Really! Hehehe, that's great!" Killer replied, "I knew she could do it."

"I want her to be in my crew," Kid muttered to him, his voice filled with a newfound determination.

"What did you say-"

"Hey Luffy! Let Y/N join my crew!" Kid yelled to Luffy, who was sitting at the other side of the table.

The rest of the crew turned their heads in surprise, but Luffy simply grinned and nodded. "Sure, why not? But Y/N has to agree to it first."

"Huh!" the crew members said in unison, their eyes widening in shock and disbelief. They had never expected Kid to make such a sudden request, especially considering how fiercely independent he had always been.

Kid grinned to himself as he drank the alcohol, his mind filled with excitement and anticipation. . . .

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You didn't know why, but you noticed that Kid was staring at you more often, his eyes lingering on you with a mix of curiosity and admiration.

It seemed that your ability to reduce his phantom pain had sparked a newfound interest in you, and he couldn't help but wonder what other hidden talents you possessed.

You didn't pay any mind to it. It was normal to be interested in someone if they helped you get over a pain that affected you.

The feeling would fade eventually and when that happens, the both of you will be separated into your crews and we will be enemies again.

However, despite his initial interest in you, Kid hardly came to you anymore for his phantom pain. It seemed that your ability had truly worked, providing him with the relief he needed.

As a result, the connection between the two of you began to fade, and the reality of being enemies once again became evident.

For some reason, you couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness as the connection between you and Kid began to fade.

Even though you knew it was inevitable, a part of you had grown accustomed to his presence and the brief moments of camaraderie. As the reality of being enemies once again became evident, you couldn't shake off the feeling of longing for that connection.

So much for doing it solely for the sake of fixing his ship and ensuring the smooth separation of your crew, with no ulterior motives or personal gain involved.

"Ahhh! Y/N! Y/N!" Usopp's voice came to play, waking you from your thoughts as you remembered that you were doing a job before you started to contemplate.

You turn around to see the long-nosed Usopp running towards you, holding his back in pain. It seems like he's injured himself again during the job, and you can't help but sigh, realising that there's always something happening when you're part of this crew.

"What happened, Usopp?" you ask, concerned.

"Luffy hit me with a big plank and now I think I'm going to die," Usopp cried out, rubbing his back.

You sighed again, "You're not going to die Usopp,"

"You're just being dramatic as usual," you said with a smile, as you activated your healing ability and placed your hand on Usopp's back, extracting his pain with a gentle touch.

The familiar warmth flowed through your fingertips, relieving his discomfort and reminding you once again of the unique gift you possessed.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Usopp said gratefully, giving you a hug before running back to where he came from.

As you watched him go, a bittersweet feeling washed over you. While you were glad to have the ability to help your crewmates, it also served as a constant reminder of the inevitable separation of Kid and returning to being enemies.

When you turned around to walk away, your eyes were met with red/orange ones in the shadows of the trees, which belonged to Kid. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down your spine, making it clear that the connection between the two of you was far from faded, and the lines between friend and foe were blurred once again.

"Kid, is something the matter?"

"N-no, there's nothing," he answered, his voice barely above a whisper, as he turned around to walk away.

But the lingering tension in the air and the unspoken words between you both made it clear that there was definitely something bothering him.

You ran over to him and stood in front, blocking his way, as another sigh escaped your lips.

You could feel the tension in the air as Kid's face turned red. It was clear that something was bothering him, but he seemed hesitant to share it with you.

You stood in front of him, blocking his way, and asked again, "Kid, is something wrong? You can tell me."

"It hurts again," Kid muttered, gesturing to his amputated arm. His face was twisted in pain and his body contorted as if he was suffering greatly.

You smiled warmly before placing your hand gently on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. With a firm grip, you slowly began to massage the area, applying just the right amount of pressure to extract the pain and ease his discomfort.

As you worked your magic, you could feel his muscles relaxing and his breathing becoming more steady. Finally, after a few minutes, you removed your hand and looked up at him with a reassuring smile, knowing that you had helped alleviate his pain.

Kid, slightly gasping for breath, looked down at you and managed to utter a sincere "Thank you".

You graciously responded, "You're welcome. You know you can always ask me to do that for you, I am at your service."

Kid, feeling embarrassed, averted his gaze and turned away. As he did so, he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head, perhaps hoping to distract himself from the awkward situation.

"I wanted to apologise," he started, his tone contrite and apologetic. He looked directly into your eyes, hoping to convey the sincerity of his words.

His heart felt heavy with regret as he continued to speak, "I remember that I held you wrongly and caused a mark to be on your neck."

"Ah, that thing is what you are referring to!" you exclaimed, your mind drawing a blank for a moment before you realised what it was that was being discussed.

"I am truly sorry for my actions and the hurt they caused. Please forgive me."

"It's completely understandable that you reacted the way you did. Given the pain you were experiencing at that time, it's natural to respond in a way that reflects your emotions."

"I'm sorry," he said softly, looking down at his feet.

You expressed doubt with the question, "I'm still alive, aren't I?"

His eyes widened with astonishment as he gazed upward, caught off guard by your words.

"Yeah you are still alive," he replied, his voice slightly hesitant and reserved.

"Good, if not, who would be able to stop you from making another hole on your ship," You joked.

Eustass Kid's flushed and red face perfectly complemented his lipstick as he was overcome with a mix of emotions, causing his blood to rush to his cheeks.

The vibrant hue of his makeup reflected the intensity of his feelings, creating a striking and powerful appearance that captured the attention of everyone around him.

"I made something for you," he muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Curiosity piqued, you gently probed, "What is it?"

Sheepishly, he handed you a small, beautifully crafted necklace. The intricate design and attention to detail spoke volumes about the effort he had put into making it, leaving you touched and speechless.

Taking a closer look at the small, beautifully crafted necklace, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe. "Kid, it's beautiful," you said breathless at the sight of it.

"You really went all out, didn't you?" you chuckled, teasingly.

Kid's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he stammered, "I-I wanted to make something special for you...to show you how sorry I am."

"Thank you so much, Kid. This means the world to me."

Kid nodded before walking away nervously, a mixture of relief and anxiety evident in his movements. The weight of his apology and the vulnerability he had shown hung in the air, leaving you with a newfound understanding of his sincerity and the depth of his remorse.

You smiled, touched by Kid's gesture, before delicately tying the necklace around your neck. As the pendant rested against your chest, the cool metal against your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of forgiveness.

It's not like being friends with him is against your own rules right?

As you felt your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn't help but wonder if your feelings for Kid went beyond friendship. The intensity of your emotions raised questions about the nature of your relationship and whether it was possible to cross that line without breaking your own rules.

There was no point in even thinking about it. After all, you were just a mere crew member and he was part of The Worst Generation.

The boundaries between friendship and something more were blurry, but you knew that navigating the complexities of a romantic relationship with Kid would be a challenge you weren't sure you were ready to take on.

But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that Kid's gesture meant more than just pity. The sincerity in his eyes and the effort he had put into making the necklace hinted at something deeper, something that made you question the boundaries of your relationship.

"This is too much," you muttered to yourself before you walked to where you were supposed to be 20 minutes ago. As you hurriedly made your way to your destination, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you - gratitude, confusion, and a lingering curiosity about what could lie beyond the boundaries of friendship with Kid. . . .

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Nami laughed teasingly, "I told you that you loved him!"

"Come on, Nami, don't start with that again," you replied, rolling your eyes playfully.

"So it took you three weeks to figure out your feelings," Nami stated as she peeled a tangerine. "That's a slow burn if I've ever seen one."

"Why don't you stop judging and give me advice?" you muttered, stealing a slice of the tangerine and dropping it into your mouth.

"Advice? Gurl, you need to take your butt out there and tell him how you feel," Nami answered, eating the rest of the tangerine.

"Did you not hear a word of what I just said?" you asked, lying back on the chair.

"Yeah, you don't want to disrupt the relationship between the two pirate crews right?" Nami said with a sly grin. "But hey, sometimes you have to take a risk for love. Who knows, maybe you and Kid could be the ultimate power couple of the seas!"

"That's not real advice, Nami," you groaned into your hands, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. "I can't just jeopardise everything for a potential romance. I need to think this through and consider the consequences."

"You think too much," Nami commented, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes, you just have to follow your heart and take a leap of faith. Life's too short to overthink everything."

As you were going to respond, the door opened and revealed Killer, Kid's first mate and closest confidant. The sight of him caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had overheard your conversation with Nami.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?"

You nodded before saying goodbye to Nami, who had a grin on her face. As you walked towards Killer, you couldn't shake off the feeling that he had indeed heard your conversation. Your heart raced, unsure of what he might say or how he might react.

As you closed the door behind you, you faced Killer and asked, "Is something wrong?" His expression seemed serious, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over you.

"During this day every year, I've recorded that Kid's phantom pain increases threefold," Killer said, his voice filled with concern. "I know you care about him, and I wanted to warn you that he might not be in the best state of mind right now."

"I thought you should know, since you're the only one who seems to have a calming effect on him. It's important that you understand the impact you have on him."

You nodded in understanding, grateful that Killer had shared this information with you. As he started to walk away, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of responsibility towards Kid and his well-being, knowing that your presence had such a profound effect on him.

"Umm, Killer, can I ask you for a favor?" you said hesitantly, hoping he would agree.

He turned around with a curious look, his gaze fixed on you. "Of course, what do you need?" Killer responded, his tone indicating his willingness to help.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"I appreciate you providing this room for me", you said, sitting on the new bed.

"It's no problem," Killer said, leaning against the door frame on the other side of the room. "I'm glad I could help. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask."

You nodded, grateful for Killer's support, and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone to gather your thoughts.

Feeling a mix of emotions, you then laid on the bed, trying to process the weight of Killer's words and the newfound responsibility you held in Kid's life.

The room felt heavy with the realization that your presence could make a difference in someone's well-being, and you couldn't help but wonder how you could best support Kid during his struggle with his phantom pain.

"Umm, Killer, can I ask you for a favor?" you said hesitantly, hoping he would agree.

He turned around with a curious look, his gaze fixed on you. "Of course, what do you need?"

"Since Kid may need my help during the night, can I stay over at his ship for tonight?" you asked, hoping that Killer would understand the urgency of the situation.

Killer's expression softened, and he nodded in agreement. "Absolutely, I think that would be a good idea. Kid will appreciate having you there for support."

Why did you ask him that? Why were you on Kid's ship? This was definitely going to cause some problems for both of the crews if they saw where you were.

"You think too much," Nami commented, rolling her eyes. "Sometimes, you just have to follow your heart and take a leap of faith. Life's too short to overthink everything."

You sighed, remembering Nami's words. Sometimes, you just have to trust your instincts and do what feels right in the moment.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as you lay on the bed, knowing that your proximity to Kid's room could potentially complicate things.

There is only one purpose for your presence here, and that is to help Kid.

Laying down on the bed, you tried to get some sleep, hoping that a good night's rest would help clear your mind and prepare you for the challenges ahead. However, thoughts of the potential complications lingered, making it difficult to find peace in the midst of your newfound responsibility.

You held the necklace that Kid made for you tightly, feeling its familiar weight against your chest. It brought you a sense of comfort and reminded you of the connection you shared with Kid.

As you drifted off to sleep, you hoped that your presence on Kid's ship would ultimately bring more good than harm. . . .

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In the eerie darkness, Kid found himself paralysed with fear as he witnessed Victoria, his beloved, trapped in a nightmarish scenario, fading away before his very eyes.

Her anguished cries echoed in the void, sending shivers down his spine. Despite his desperate attempts to reach out and save her, he was rendered powerless, a mere spectator to her tragic demise.

As the nightmare unfolded, a sinister force seemed to take hold of the dream, twisting and distorting reality.

Suddenly, you appeared in the scene, just as you had that fateful night a week ago, drunk and stumbling. Kid's heart raced as he desperately tried to make sense of your presence in this haunting nightmare, unsure of the role you played in the twisted reality unfolding before him.

Kid's body started to move without his command, running towards Y/N. Panic and confusion filled his mind as he tried to regain control, but his limbs seemed to have a will of their own.

The closer he got to Y/N, the more intense the feeling of dread became, as if his own instincts were warning him to stay away.

In a surge of terror and desperation, Kid's hands clenched around Y/N's neck, his grip tightening as he lifted them off the ground. The place filled with the sound of Y/N's gasps for air, mingled with Kid's anguished cries, as the nightmare took a horrifying turn.

"K-Kid, I can help you," you muttered, gasping for air, desperately trying to convey that you were not the enemy in this twisted nightmare. Your words hung in the tense air, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, Kid would snap out of it and release his grip on your neck.

Kid also hoped so too, that his body would listen to him and leave you alone.

But of course, since it was a nightmare, Kid's body remained under the control of the sinister force, tightening his grip even further. The glimmer of hope quickly faded as Y/N's vision started to blur, their consciousness slipping away as the nightmare reached its horrifying climax.

Your hand then touched his arm and suddenly Kid felt refreshed, as if a surge of energy had coursed through his veins. The effect of your devil fruit powers seemed to break through the grip of the sinister force, loosening Kid's hold on your neck.

As his senses returned, Kid's eyes widened with horror at what he had almost done, his trembling hands releasing their grip as he fell to his knees, overcome with guilt and relief.

Y/N lay motionless on the ground, gasping for air and clutching your throat, the remnants of Kid's grip still visible on your skin. The weight of guilt and relief washed over Kid, leaving him paralysed with the realisation of what he had almost done.

"Please, not you too," he muttered, his voice filled with a mixture of anguish and desperation, as he stared at your motionless body on the ground. . . .

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Kid woke up in a jolt, sweating profusely. He looked around, relieved to find himself in his own bed, safe and sound.

It took a moment for him to realise that it was all just a nightmare, but the guilt and fear still lingered in his mind.

As the night went on, Eustass Kid's arm continued to bother him. Kid lay awake in the darkness of his quarters aboard the Kid Pirates ship.

The memory of losing his arm in a fierce battle replayed in his mind, causing him to grimace in pain as he felt the phantom ache that still haunted him. The room was suffocatingly silent, except for the occasional creaks and groans of the ship as it managed against the dark waters.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his missing arm, causing Kid to sit upright with a gasp. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he clenched his teeth, trying to push away the pain that felt all too real.

He longed for a distraction, something to take his mind off the agony that had consumed him.

Just then, a soft knock sounded at his door, followed by the creak of the hinges as it opened slowly. Kid's first instinct was to lash out, but he stopped himself when he saw who stood before him - you, your concerned gaze locked on his troubled face.

"I... I heard you groaning in pain. Is everything alright?" you asked, your voice filled with genuine worry.

Kid's initial reaction was to brush you off, to insist that he was fine, that you should leave him be or even question how you were on his ship. But as he saw the genuine concern in your eyes, he hesitated.

For a brief moment, he let his guard down, allowing the vulnerability that he usually kept hidden to surface.

"My arm... it still hurts sometimes but it's worse now. The pain never really goes away at this time," Kid murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Do... you want me to help you?"

At first, Eustass Kid was taken aback by your offer even though you've been helping him for weeks now.

"Yes... please," Kid replied, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, but you also saw the genuine need for companionship. Without a second thought, you agreed to stay.

It's not like anything would happen right?

As you adjusted to the darkness, you realised that Kid was shirtless, revealing the scars that covered his muscular chest and arms. The sight took you by surprise, but you quickly averted your gaze, focusing instead on the pain that was etched across his face.

You slowly walked up to him, his eyes never leaving you. His eyes held a mixture of pain, longing, and vulnerability, as if they were windows to a soul that had experienced more than its fair share of hardships.

In that moment, you could see the depth of his emotions, the weight he carried on his shoulders, and a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could provide him with the solace he desperately needed.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, reaching over to his amputated hand when he grabbed you with his other hand. His grip was surprisingly gentle, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

"Kid?" you questioned, your voice filled with concern as you met his gaze. "Are you okay? You can talk to me, you know."

Despite the fact that he was generally regarded as an independent person, he could not deny that he had a strong desire for someone to stay with him tonight.

He wanted you. He needed you.

"Stay the night with me. Please..." he finally spoke, his voice laced with vulnerability.

Your eyes widened at his statement, surprised by the depth of his vulnerability and the sincerity in his plea. The weight of his words hung in the air, and you found yourself unable to resist his request.

"I'll stay," you said, your voice gentle and reassuring. "What do you want me to do?"

Kid's reply was a soft whisper, barely audible in the darkness. "Just... stay with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability.

Gently, he pulled you closer by your hand, his touch both tender and desperate, closing the physical distance between you.

The warmth of his touch and the vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that all he needed in that moment was your presence.

Placing your hand close to Kid's head, you felt the softness of Kid's hair against your fingertips, which made your heart skip a beat.

As Kid's hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, a wave of goosebumps cascaded over your body, electrifying every inch of your skin that his touch grazed. The intensity of the moment heightened, revealing the depth of his longing and the raw vulnerability he entrusted to you.

"What do you want?" you repeated, your voice a gentle whisper.

"I want you, even if it's only for tonight," he confessed, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and desperation that sent shivers down your spine.

"What about the others?" you muttered, your mind racing with thoughts of the potential consequences.

"I just want you here with me," Kid replied, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and determination. "I don't care about the others. All I need is you."

"Okay, for tonight," you agreed, your voice filled with understanding.

In that moment, Kid took it as a sign to cup your cheek and lean closer, his lips gently brushing against yours, igniting a fire within both of you.

His lips were soft and warm, molding perfectly against yours as they moved in sync. The gentle pressure and the taste of his kiss sent a rush of heat through your body, making you forget about everything else except the intense connection you shared in that moment.

As the kiss deepened, Kid's tongue gently traced the outline of your lips, seeking permission to explore further. Your heart raced with anticipation as you granted access, allowing the kiss to become even more passionate and intoxicating.

His tongue danced with yours, exploring the depths of your mouth with a hunger that mirrored the intensity of his longing. Every stroke and caress of his tongue sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, erasing any doubts or hesitations that lingered in your mind. In that moment, all that mattered was the intoxicating taste of him and the electrifying connection you shared.

You reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, your chests rising and falling rapidly as you both tried to catch your breath. The intensity of the moment had left you dizzy, and you needed a moment to collect your thoughts and reassess the situation.

Kid's lipstick was definitely smuggled all over your lips, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, a reminder of the passionate connection you had just experienced.

"I like the taste of your lips on mine," he muttered, his voice still filled with longing. The words sent a thrill down your spine, igniting a desire within you that mirrored his own.

"Well, if you like the taste of my lips, maybe you should try them again," you replied with a playful smirk, unable to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you.

"If you're offering, I wouldn't want to deny you another taste," Kid responded with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Only if you promise to make it even more unforgettable than the last time," you said, your voice dripping with seduction.

Unable to resist the magnetic pull between the two of you, he captured your lips once again, his kiss even more passionate and intoxicating than before.

As you kissed, Kid's hands gently slid down your back, pulling you closer and causing you to straddle him. As the kiss deepened and his hands explored your body, one of Kid's hands slipped under your shirt, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine.

The touch of his warm skin against yours heightened the intensity of the moment, fuelling the desire that burned between you. . . .

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up to the smells heavily of metal and copper, the remnants of the passionate encounter with Kid still fresh in your mind. As you took in the scent, a mix of desire and satisfaction washed over you.

You opened your eyes to see Kid's peaceful face beside you, his breathing steady and his lips slightly parted. The sight filled you with a sense of contentment and a desire to continue exploring the depths of your connection with him.

The sunlight streaming through the curtains caught your attention, and you realised that it was morning. The soft glow illuminated the room, casting a warm, golden hue over the tangled sheets and the two of you intertwined within them

As you watched Kid sleep, a sense of gratitude washed over you, knowing that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

"Okay, for tonight," you agreed, your voice filled with understanding.

The things you said last night haven't escaped your memory.

However, deep down, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness that this passionate encounter with Kid was only meant to be a single night. The bittersweet feeling lingered as you admired Kid's peaceful face, wishing for more moments like these to come.

You slowly got out of his bed, gently releasing Kid's grip and tiptoeing towards the door.

As you looked back at his sleeping form one last time, you couldn't help but wonder if fate had other plans in store for the two of you, and if this unforgettable night was just the beginning of something more. . . .

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Why can't you stop the pain in your heart?As you thought, gripping your shirt, you realised that the pain in your heart cannot be stopped because it is an emotional pain that stems from deep within.

"Stay the night with me. Please..." he finally spoke, his voice laced with vulnerability.

─────────────────────────────────────────

"I'll stay," you said, your voice gentle and reassuring. "What do you want me to do?"

Kid's reply was a soft whisper, barely audible in the darkness. "Just... stay with me," he pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of longing and vulnerability.

─────────────────────────────────────────

The warmth of his touch and the vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that all he needed in that moment was your presence.

Placing your hand close to Kid's head, you felt the softness of Kid's hair against your fingertips, which made your heart skip a beat.

─────────────────────────────────────────

As you ran your fingers over the necklace Kid had made for you, the memories of last night stayed in your mind, reminding you of the deep connection you shared.

You weren't going to deny that you had fallen in love with Kid.

Eustass Kid's vibrant red hair was wild and unkempt, adding to his rugged and unpredictable appearance. The fiery colour of his hair reflected his fiery personality and his willingness to take on any challenge.

He possessed a towering and imposing physique, adorned with a labyrinth of battle scars and metallic implants seamlessly integrated into his arms and shoulders.

You couldn't help but find Kid's rugged appearance and fiery personality incredibly attractive.

"Okay, for tonight," you agreed, your voice filled with understanding.

You remembered the promise you made to him - this was only for one day and at the time, you thought it was enough for you but now you regret it.

You longed for the feeling of his hands on your skin, the way they would trace delicate patterns and send shivers down your spine.

You were torn between your desire for more and your initial agreement to only stay for one night. The memories of his touch haunted you, and you couldn't help but yearn for more than just one night together.

Yet, you knew that breaking your promise would only lead to more complications and heartache.

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the door, interrupting the bittersweet longing in the air.

"Come in," you said, your voice slightly shaky as you tried to compose yourself. As the door opened, you put on a brave face, hoping that no one would see the traces of tears that lingered in your eyes.

The door revealed Nami with a worried look, her eyes scanning the room for any signs of distress. You quickly wiped away the traces of tears and put on a smile, masking the pain that still lingered in your heart.

"Hey, Nami," you greeted, trying to sound cheerful. "What brings you here?"

"Kid just left with his crew, and you were the only one who wasn't there to see him off," Nami explained, her voice tinged with concern. "I wanted to make sure you're okay. Is everything alright?"

"I'm okay," you replied, forcing a smile. "Thanks for checking in, Nami."

She sat on your bed and sighed, her eyes filled with understanding. "I can see that something is bothering you. You don't have to pretend with me, you know," Nami said gently.

"I know," you said, touching the necklace again, "But there was no way anything would happen even if I sent him off."

"So he didn't ask you?"

"Ask me what?" you asked curiously.

"That dinner when you left early, Kid asked Luffy if he could have you join his crew and surprisingly Luffy agreed but if you agreed to it too,"

You were speechless at Nami's words. Kid asked Luffy to join his crew? Why didn't he ask you? Did he think you were going to reject his offer?

Did he not see how much you longed for him? Did he not feel the same connection as you did? The questions swirled in your mind, filling you with a mixture of regret and confusion.

"Why didn't he ask me?" you muttered out loud, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.

Nami assured you, "You can ask him next time we bump into each other. Maybe he just didn't find the right moment to bring it up. Don't worry, I'm sure there's a reason behind it."

"I guess," you muttered, feeling a wave of disappointment wash over you.

Eustass Kid, does he not realise how smitten you have become with him that he's using you as a toy for his own entertainment without even knowing?

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Part 2?

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