#hope you enjoy it as much as i did making it

[asxgard]

Omg I love your jack Abbott writings! All of the written so well. So I have a request if theyre open.

Jack x nurse reader who had a fling but it ended soooo badly because emotions weren’t being regulated. This makes reader quit PTMC and work elsewhere when she finds out she’s pregnant. Never tells jack. Cut to a year or two later, and they manage to cross paths where jack realizes it’s his son/daughter, feelings get thrown out the bag, and they all lived happily ever after?

in the wreckage | one shot

Dr. Jack Abbot x ex!f!nurse!reader

Requested

Summary: It’s in the wreckage of what was that you find hope for what could be.

[ My Masterlist ]

Note: Thank you, anon, I hope you enjoy! I struggled between giving him a son or daughter here, frankly because I really enjoyed both in my head. So like it has been in the past, it came down to a coin toss lol

Jack strikes me as both ‘“I walk you to your door and maybe kiss you goodnight on the second or third date” slow, intentional, traditional man and “if I don’t talk about my feelings, they don’t exist” longing, no title, all physical man’ so I float between them lol

Word Count: 3.1k (I blacked out)

Most of my works are 18+ for adult language and content.

Warnings: afab!reader, ex-situationship, implied age gap, foul language, hurt/comfort, mild references to smut, unplanned/surprise pregnancy, not telling jack about said pregnancy (reader being in the wrong oof), single mom!reader, hospital settings, medical inaccuracies, injuries relating to a car crash, angst with a happy ending, fluff

not beta read

It had started in the heat of the moment, neither of you being particularly careful with your feelings. The collection of lingering glances and secret smiles had brought it all to the surface until it was just the two of you after a bad shift. You had found comfort in each other that night, and several nights afterwards, lost in heat and an unspoken understanding of the horrors you faced each day.

Jack Abbot was a man of many complexities, though you thought that was what had sucked you in in the first place. The mysterious edge always left you wanting, always kept you guessing, and that just seemed like a recipe for disaster.

Perhaps because it had started on uncertain ground, always leaving you on the edge of your seat, left the relationship constantly feeling strained. What was worse was that neither of you called attention to it and simply let the insecurities fester. Simply never brought up what you were, or what you wanted to be, or got too personal to be vulnerable, though Jack had more of an affinity for that last one than you did.

You smiled at him less and less in the hallways of the Pitt, overwhelmed by the unknowing eating at your insides. You avoided him at work. He avoided your calls. Sooner or later, one of you always turned up at the other’s door. It became habitual, like a moth to a flame.

It only made your downfall so much worse.

—

You had wanted a clean break, and leaving the Pitt had been like leaving home. It had been necessary after that night with Jack, unable to look at him, let alone continue working with him. Not after what he said — not after you had asked for more and he had calmly, collectively, refused you. Like it didn’t matter. Like you didn’t understand.

It had done more than just hurt and embarrassed you, it had burned.

Like everything had reached its crescendo before stopping cold. All the feelings buzzing around your chest had been too much in the aftermath, so you left. Just left.

The two little pink lines staring at you just a few weeks later were a bitter pill to swallow. A cruel cosmic joke reeling you back to the man you were trying to run away from — leaving a constant reminder of the downfall. Bile had risen in your throat, and you felt a petty feeling rise with it.

He didn’t need to be in your life. You could do it alone. Who said you had to tell him? Perhaps that was wrong of you, a bit too childish, but you were still angry. Still running.

As your belly swelled, your feelings started seeming less bitter and more sweet. You moved out of your crappy one-bedroom apartment and into a fresh start, committing to your choice. Committing to the child in your womb and the choices that had led you there.

There was a tiny part of you that wanted to reach out, let him know, but you grew embarrassed each time you stared at his contact. You did not want him to feel like you were trapping him after he had made it clear that nothing more could happen between you.

For months you struggled with your decision, trying to wrangle your worries and insecurities about being a single mother. All the work, all the money, all the stress it was going to bring you.

It all seemed to fade away when you held your son in your arms, so small and screaming, and yet your heart filled with joy. He was perfect, with tiny fingers and toes, small tufts of dark hair atop his head. His eyes gave you pause — as they were unmistakably Jack’s.

You cried without really knowing why. Joy, longing, loss, love, or something in between had boiled up and then boiled over. Jack should know, echoed quietly in the back of your mind, he should know he has a son.

It felt too late to say it. You had had months to say something, anything and chosen not to. It was too late.

Despite the hardships you faced as a new mom facing it alone, Daniel was loved fiercely and spoiled when you could manage it. Your friends and co-workers helped when they could, and never let the absence of a father grow when they could help fill the void. Even your old co-workers came to see you and your son, visiting with curiosity soaking their eyes.

If any of them caught on, they didn’t say anything.

—

It felt crazy to you that a year since your son had been born had passed so quickly, so fleetingly. You worked a lot to afford rent, food and childcare, but even still, it felt strange that a year had gone by without fanfare.

Your friend had been a lifesaver when she allowed you to use her backyard for his first birthday party. It would be a small affair, with only a handful of kids Daniel knew from daycare and a few of your friends and their kids. Perlah and Dana even stopped by, giving their well wishes from everyone.

When you ran out of ice for the coolers, you and one of your co-workers, Liam, offered to go get more at the corner store. You left Daniel in the caring hands of Dana and promised to be back in only a few minutes.

A few minutes turned into a few hours after you had been blindsided and t-boned by a car trying to run a red light. You felt hazy when the paramedics arrived, carefully trying to apply pressure to the gash on Liam’s leg.

When you were wheeled into PTMC, you felt a flood of panic. Hadn’t you asked to head to Alleghany East? Maybe it had only been in your head. You prayed to whatever was out there that you would only see Robby.

Fate had other plans, it seemed, as Jack was the one who had come to the ambulance doors to assess you.

He stared at you like he had seen a ghost before buckling down and getting to work. He checked your pupils and your vitals, muttering something about a concussion, before checking over the handful of cuts the glass had made when the windows broke.

You were stable, so they wheeled you back into an open room to wait for a head CT. Jack lingered in the doorway, before shooing away an intern who had come to clean your wounds.

“How’s my friend? Is he okay?”

Jack pulled the stool close to you, “He’s just a room over. Nasty laceration, concussion, but Robby’s taking care of him. He’ll be okay.”

You nodded and took a deep breath. You picked up your phone to call Dana.

“I shouldn’t be long.” You told her after explaining what had happened.

“I’ll be right there.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Like hell I don’t. Don’t you worry about a thing, I’ll take care of it.”

You sighed, “Thank you, Dana.”

Jack, who had silently been cleaning your wounds, spoke, “So…is it just me you don’t talk to anymore?”

You scrunched your eyebrows and looked at him quizzically, “Excuse me?”

Hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“I thought you made it clear that was the last thing you wanted.” You said, tone hard, lips dipping into a frown.

Jack let out a long sigh. “It was a bad shift. Bad day. It doesn’t excuse what I said. I was running from it being something real, I’m sorry.” A long pause echoed. “But I’d like to try and at least be friends.”

Friends? It ached somewhere deep in your chest. You could not be friends. You had made that decision over a year before and decided against having him in your life at any capacity. You frowned at him, looking away from his face before you could crumble.

“I don’t think that’s wise.” You said quietly.

He nodded, pulling over the suture kit. That seemed to be the end of it.

You let him finish working while the silence washed over you, thick and guarded. Your thoughts felt cloudy, and your head hurt, your muscles ached, but doubt began to creep in.

Had you made the right decision? You wanted to believe so. With one foot constantly out the door, would he even make a good father? Had you waited too long to even consider telling him? You felt stuck in your head, going over all the what ifs until you felt queasy.

A knock sounded on the door, pulling you from your thoughts. Dana’s pleasant smile greeted you, but it was your son in her arms that made you flush with distress. You stared at her with wide eyes, heart picking up speed.

“Someone was worried.” She told you simply, but her eyes flickered to Jack.

Jack looked up at Dana, then at the boy in her arms. The toddler was tucked against her neck, leaning on her like he was trying to sleep. Jack schooled his features easily, though it looked like he was disappointed for just a fraction of a second, which sent you reeling.

“Should I have someone call your…boyfriend?” Jack asked tightly, looking back down at the stitch work.

“No boyfriend.” You frowned, but accepted your son from Dana eagerly. Did Jack think that you’d had a baby with someone else? Good. Good. That was for the best. Bile burned your throat.

“How’re you feeling, kid?”

“I’ll be fine, thank you. Can you call my parents? I’ll need help getting him home.”

“Of course, I’ll be just outside if you need anything else.” Dana said, eyes moving to Jack and then back to you.

Your cheeks heated and you held your son tightly to your chest. You rubbed his back and hummed softly, though it was more to comfort yourself than him. Maybe Jack would not notice, just finish his stitches and be on his way and you could go on pretending this had never happened.

Though, thinking Jack wouldn’t notice something was a fool’s game. Your son turned his head to look at him, blinking his tired hazel eyes at Jack. Like you had thought when you first saw them, they were like a mirror of each other.

Alarm raced through Jack’s features, eyes flickering from Daniel and back to you, eyebrows raised, breath caught. You stopped breathing, and your joints locked into place like you were bracing for it to all fall apart. He just stared at you.

“How old is he?”

“Jack—”

“How. Old. Is. He?”

“A year…today.” You said quietly. Meekly. Words cutting your throat like they had been glass.

It was simple enough to do the math, and his expression hardened. He stood, and the air shifted to something uncomfortable, uneasy, uncharted, unknown.

“Jack—wait—let me explain.”

“So I take it this is why everyone has been so secretive about why you left.”

“They didn’t know. No one knew.”

He gestured to where Dana stood in the hall.

“No one knew for certain.” You elaborated, trying to defend them. Perhaps you could handle him being mad at you, but not the family you had made in the Pitt. You had never told them, and they had never asked, though from how she had handed your son to you, it was clear Dana had known.

“You were never going to tell me.” It wasn’t a question. It was an accusation.

Shame bubbled in your gut, low and searing, working its way upwards until tears formed. What you had been bracing for hit you like a punch to the chest — hurting more than that car had inflicted.

“I thought it was the right choice at the time.”

He scoffed and recoiled, his expression flinching between pain and anger.

“Jack—” you sighed, leveling your voice so you didn’t raise it. “—you told me I could never understand you, or the role you played here. That asking for any more from you was pointless…that it had all been a mistake and I needed to move on. I really couldn’t bear to work with you after that, so I left. I didn’t know I was pregnant yet. Was it wrong to keep it from you once I found out? …yes. But I was hurt.” You swallowed tightly, and wiped away your tears, annoyed they were forming.

He walked to the far wall away from you, then paced back toward you before repeating himself, hands on his hips. His expression broached closer to unreadable, which fueled your panic. With a long, heavy sigh, he stopped to lean against the wall. Never one to stray from eye contact, he found your eyes. Heavy, hard, reserved.

“I thought it was for the best. I didn’t want you to feel like I was trapping you, especially since it seemed like kids were the last thing on your list. I just wanted a clean break. I doubted my decision a lot—”

“And yet, you did nothing about it.”

You bit your lip. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I really messed up, I know that now. Time kept slipping away from me. I was still figuring out parenting — I still am — and to throw co-parenting into the mix? It felt like an impossible climb.”

“If you had never come here today…if Dana had never brought him in…you never would have said anything.”

More tears came as shame burned your face, “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know.”

Silences with Jack used to be comfortable, easy, as simple as breathing. The one now settling between you? It ached, it burned, it crushed.

“What’s his name?” Jack asked quietly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Daniel.”

You swore you saw his eyes grow glassy.

“I made the wrong decision, and I’ll own up to that.” You admitted quietly. “I can’t change what I did or didn’t do, and I’ll never be able to apologize enough for it. I just thought this…this would be easier. For everyone involved.”

“I’m involved now. Don’t fight me on that.”

“I won’t.” You vowed.

—

Trust was built back slowly, through long conversations and with actions followed through. It had been tense and awkward as your son grew to know Jack as his father, though he fell into the role like he was made for it. It only made the guilt over stealing a year of your son’s life from him hurt all over again.

The tension and burning guilt were the hardest thing for you two to overcome. While he never raised his voice, he would grow accusatory when he remembered how much he had lost out on. You would double down on the night you had left him behind — or perhaps it truly was him leaving you behind — and the words he had said to you.

Neither of you were particularly blameless, not really. The relationship that had been was not one formed on a solid foundation, so everything felt like new territory. The pull of will they, won’t they, as Princess had put it, constantly making you question where you stood.

You just wanted to focus on co-parenting effectively, and Jack just wanted to focus on making up for lost time. That felt easy enough.

But something from the past — from the wreckage of what you had been — lingered like some part of you and Jack was haunted. An echo of what should have been fizzled just below the surface.

On the first night you felt secure enough to leave Daniel at Jack’s apartment, you settled in his kitchen to clean up a bit of the mess from dinner. Jack’s guest room had been quickly converted to be a bedroom for his son, pulling together everything he needed without complaint.

Jack wandered back into the kitchen after settling Daniel down for the night. You hummed softly, and Jack leaned against the doorway without saying anything.

“I know this is hard for you.” Jack said, hands in his pockets. “Thank you for giving me tonight.”

You smiled even though a sadness lingered at leaving your son somewhere overnight that was not his home. But this would need to be his home, too, so you swallowed it.

“You two need some quality time,” after I ripped the beginning away from you. “You two will have fun tomorrow.”

“...I got an extra ticket, if you’d like to come with us.”

Hope bloomed, “You did?”

“I’d like to put the past behind us. Move forward together.” He said, eyes never leaving yours.

Forgiveness had come with your son’s echoing laughter and hues of blue shimmering against your skin, as light moved through the water. Daniel pointed up at the sharks in their tanks while Jack held him, watching in his own kind of excitement, a smile cracking against the corner of his mouth.

Jack had grabbed your hand without saying anything.

You intertwined your fingers and let out a long breath of relief.

—

Something like love had come in a flourish after Daniel’s first words: dada. It might have felt like a punch to the gut, another cosmic joke, if it hadn’t lit up Jack’s face in a smile you had never seen before. It warmed the ache in your chest and decided it was okay for Jack to have this first.

It felt like forgiving yourself.

You ended up staying the night, curling up against Jack’s chest while your son slept soundly in the next room. Neither of you wanted to rush what was blossoming between you, or jinx it. If you were going to go for it, you each deserved steady ground to stand on.

“You’re doing really well with him.” You whispered. “I was worried it would feel clunky or unnatural to have you around. But it works.”

He looked at you for a long time. “I don’t want to mess this up, too.”

You softened, “I think that’s what parenthood is. Messing up and trying to do better, every day.”

“Do you think relationships are the same?” He asked, low and deliberate.

“Yeah, I do.”

It felt like a confession.

He leaned down to kiss you, but paused just before his lips met yours. Your heart hammered against your ribs, and you wet your lips with your tongue.

“I like what we have. I don’t want to screw it up by trying to be something we’re not.” You said quietly, though you felt the pull of wanting to kiss him.

Co-parenting had been bleeding closer to a relationship for quite some time, but you had not wanted to be the one who spoiled it.

“I’m not going to run this time, not if you don’t.”

You swallowed, focusing on his eyes, “I’m here to stay.”

He captured your lips, pulling you flush against him, one hand going behind your head and the other settling on your hip. It was hesitant, but full of feeling, of all things left unsaid.

It felt like was a promise.

same prompt, but with Robby: A Fresh Start

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @woodxtock @rachel2494

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69

All content taglist: @nixandtonic

this inspired two tiny multis:

casual (coming soon) (Dr. Robby)

champagne problems (coming soon) (Dr. Abbot)

whoops

[yulin-pop]

Hi hi!

Forgive me if I'm wrong (and feel free to delete this if it's wrong) but I see your requests are open +_+

Can I ask for headcanons about Sebek, Silver, Malleus, and Leona with a reader who gets lost super easily? Like they just get distracted and walk in one direction and suddenly they have no idea where they are kinda lost (if that makes sense)

Also, I would like to say that I love your writing! You're actually the first person I followed when I got on Tumblr because of your twst writing!

Anyway, I hope you take good care of yourself and there's no rush to answer!

⤷ ✧ 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞

order 90 | headcanons | Leona, Sebek, Silver, Malleus | GN

❀ NOTE: this request was so cute AND OMG YOURE SO SWEET it means a lot and my hobby of writing is motivated by people who enjoy it thank you so much cries

༻ Leona Kingscholar

When you first met and he told you to leave, you obeyed reluctantly only to come back not even 5 minutes later. In fact you don’t even realize until he calls out to you again.

“I told you to leave.”

“I know, I didn’t want to be here!” You boldly said before walking off into a randomly direction. Then ending up right back in front of him. He assumes you’re messing with him.

Once he does get to know you, he realizes it’s out of your control completely and you simply lack awareness. It’s a major problem because of how large the campus is, more often than not end up late to everything.

His sense of smell isn’t the strongest but it’s the only thing he can rely on to find you. Especially if it’s late at night and all else fails, he goes out of his way.

“There you are, your friends were throwing a fuss because you got lost again.” He said from behind you, clueless as ever. “I didn’t think you’d end up here though.”

You looked embarrassed as you approached him, “How did you find me?”

“When you have a brain bigger than a pea, it’s not difficult, herbivore.” He said with a deep breath before grabbing your hand.

“Don’t get lost again.”

-ˋˏ Sebek Zigvolt

It is aggravating to him how one can be so hopeless with locating things. He assumed you were a careless student late to class everyday but as he got to know you he realized it was likely due to you being lost.

The first time he was confronted with the fact was when you had to walk somewhere together. “Human, let’s hurry to Mr. Trein’s class immediately.”

“Okay, so why are you just standing there?” You pointed it out and he crossed his arms.

“He is a teacher of yours, is he not? Lead the way.” He haughtily demanded and you nodded. But you went in circles for 10 minutes, bickering about it the entire time.

“I know where I’m going.”

“Clearly you don’t, what room number is it?”

“112.”

“We’re at 203 right now, you fool!”

“I thought that said 103?” You looked at the nearest number in shock.

From then on he would never trust you to lead the way, he couldn’t even trust you to bring yourself to the correct destination.

“What class do you have now, human?”

“Science with Crewel.”

He took a sharp turn and looked back at you, “I’m taking you there, you’ll be late otherwise.”

-ˋˏ Silver

He never got an opportunity to see how bad your sense of direction is, he could only assume based off of how others describe you. He admits he understands because his habit of dozing off is also out of his control.

With that in mind he does try to make things easier for you when giving you directions. Just simple instructions like “go straight until you see the yellow sign, then turn left” is dumb enough for you to not somehow misinterpret as long as you pay attention.

The most notable time was when he had been training alone in the forest alone and inevitable dozed off without realizing. When he woke up he saw you sitting beside him.

“[Name]…” He said while sitting up.

“I tried waking you up but I’d feel bad if I did.”

“Sorry, but… why are you here?”

You tensed up and laughed, “I’m lost, I couldn’t find the mirror room.” You quietly said. “I saw you so I just stayed here until you would wake up.”

“You do realize the mirror room is a simple path from the main campus.” He says with curiosity but you shrug.

He stands up to gently take your hand and pulls you along. “Let’s go, I’m sure Grim is worried about you.”

-ˋˏ Malleus Draconia

It is one of the many quirks about you that shows how all humans are different. You specifically are very different in terms of how much awareness you lack in a place you roam around everyday.

The late nights at Ramshackle, you somehow emerge from the darkness and you seem exhausted. He questions you naturally.

“I missed a few turns and I walked into the forest and it took a while for me to find home.” You admitted with leaves in your hair, proof of your travels through the forest. He can’t hold back his laughter. He does feel bad for you though.

Oddly enough, your bad direction ends up leading you two together. If you come home late you naturally run into him, and when you’re lost going out and about he spots you.

“It’s as if you have a talent to find me.” He says while appearing behind you.

“I really don’t, it’s all a coincidence. I’m just trying to find my way back to the library!” You proclaim before crossing your arms and heading your way.

“I’m afraid the library is in the opposite direction.” He says and you stop in your tracks to turn around and scurry that way.

“Perhaps it would be efficient if I guide you there myself. It wouldn’t be a waste of my time to check out the library.”

[formulaonecrumbs]

Would you consider ‘little blood hurt nobody’ but with lando instead ? 🩷

don’t be sorry🩸

Lando Norris x reader

summary: reader unexpectedly gets her period during sex with lando. he helps her clean up and comforts her with warmth and softness.

warnings: BLOOD period talk, unexpected bleeding, gentle aftercare, soft smut (barely), fluff

A/N: don’t need to even consider baby, u ask and u shall receive. but thank u anon for the request!!!! low-key i forgot to add the cockwarming, IM SO SORRY especially if that’s what u wanted out of it. i hope u can enjoy soft gentle lando anyways. lovezzz uzzz ❤️

p.s. sorry for the no mood-board. i wasn’t quite sure what pics i would use + plus i got lazy :p

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

it’s slow. it always is with him.

his hands are warm and steady, fingertips dragging down your sides as if he’s still learning the shape of you. like he’s trying to memorize it again tonight, just in case something changes. you love how he touches you—curious and reverent, like you’re something delicate and holy.

you’re already half-undressed when he settles between your thighs, kisses lazy and unhurried. the hotel room is dim, lit only by the bedside lamp and the soft glow from the city outside the window. his shirt’s already tossed on the floor, and his skin is warm when you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

you’d been aching for him all day. something about the way he looked at you during breakfast, or the way his hand brushed against yours when he passed you a water bottle at the track. and now that he’s here—bare skin against yours, mouth at your neck, hands cradling your waist—it’s like your whole body sighs in relief.

you don’t even realize anything’s wrong until he’s almost all the way in.

you flinch.

just barely.

his head snaps up. “did i hurt you?”

“no,” you whisper quickly. “just—felt weird for a sec.”

his brows knit together. he pulls back slightly, still inside you but not moving, watching your face closely. “are you okay?”

you nod, even though something feels… off. your stomach’s been cramping a little today, but you thought it was just from walking around too much, the heat maybe. but now there’s a dull ache settling in your lower back, and something heavy in your gut that wasn’t there before.

you shift a little. that’s when you feel it.

shit.

you go still.

“wait—” you breathe, hands flat on his chest now, panicked.

lando freezes instantly. “what is it?”

you shake your head. “i—i think… fuck, i think i just got my period.”

he blinks. “now?”

“yeah,” you whisper, voice suddenly shaking. “just now.”

you try to sit up, heart already racing. “i didn’t know, i didn’t feel anything earlier, i’m sorry—”

he cups your face. “hey. stop. why are you apologizing?”

“because i just—ruined the whole mood, and the sheets, and—”

he’s already pulling out gently, helping you sit up properly without a word. when you glance down, there’s a little blood. not a lot. just enough to make your stomach twist with embarrassment.

but lando doesn’t even flinch. he grabs the edge of the comforter, tugging it aside, and then turns to you like it’s nothing.

“okay,” he says. “we’ll get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“lando—”

“baby.” he leans forward, presses a kiss to your temple. “it’s fine. i swear. just sit here a second.”

you’re quiet while he disappears into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and one of his shirts from your suitcase. he’s humming something under his breath when he comes back—so casual, like this is the most normal thing in the world.

he helps you clean up, his touch careful and gentle. when you try to apologize again, he just gives you this look. soft, steady.

“you think this changes anything?” he asks. “you think a little blood makes me want you less?”

your eyes sting a little.

“it’s not that,” you say softly. “it’s just… i was really looking forward to it. and now i feel gross.”

he frowns. “you’re not gross.”

you shrug helplessly, curling up on your side. “i just wanted to make you feel good.”

lando climbs in beside you, pulling you into his chest. “you do,” he says into your hair. “you always do. even when we’re not doing anything.”

you bury your face in his shoulder. “still feel kinda dumb.”

he kisses your forehead. “well, you’re not. and now you’re stuck with me cuddling you all night.”

you huff a laugh. “oh no, how will i survive.”

he pulls the blanket up around you both, fingers tracing soft circles into your back. “you okay now?”

“yeah,” you say quietly. “hurts a little. but i’m okay.”

he shifts slightly, tugs your leg over his hip, one of his arms slipping under your head like a pillow. “if you want to just stay like this,” he says, voice low, “you can. i’ve got you.”

you nod, eyes already heavy.

you fall asleep like that—warm, safe, and wrapped up in his arms, the weight of embarrassment gone.

THE END :>

[thisflagmeanseverything]

Hello! I wasn't tagged but I love spreading positivity!! This is mostly OFMD but I want to send to all fandoms! (This is on my OFMD blog but for anyone)

1. The creativity of my fandom is amazing, there's lots of positivity, I met some of my favorite people through it. Also that it's still so active! And that we raised LIKE 80,000 DOLLARS FOR TRANS YOUTH? Like?!?!?

2. A headcanon I wasn't sure I liked at first was the idea of (honestly idk I will come back to this)

3. This is tough cause I love every single character. I guess the fandom just helped me love the characters more.

4. I love seeing people ship Fang with anyone, he's such a lovely character

5. I see a lot of people write about Stede leaving and coming back. I love how this event is written in different ways that never has it be boring despite having the same core beat.

6. I love seeing Mermaid Stede because it's such an important symbol

7. Second chance/friends to lovers trope

8. I hope more people come to appreciate Fang, he's a sweetie pie.

9. I enjoy all the other couples; Lucius and Pete, Garlic Soup, etc. Anything with Fangy.

10. All of the OFMD blogs I follow. Especially those I followed 2022-2024, they help me feel like there was a community here. If I had to only chose one tho, I would say @gentlebeardsbarngrill Abby ily ❤️

11. I'm proud of the Dracula fic I helped my friend make.

12. Wow it's hard to chose just one, I love all my people. Today I will compliment @thescarvedinsect on their awesomeness and friendliness. They have always made an effort to reach out to me on several different platforms

13. I love the Big Bang events! So many things to read and so many pretty pictures! I loveee seeing all the time and effort that people still put into our fandom and our boys.

14.Ed and Stede, of course. They always make me smile and feel better

15. Fang 💕

16. The way Ed grasps Stede's hand when he's down in the hold. It means so much to me and i totally melted the first time I saw that. ALSO Pete's saying about "you talk all the time how you almost died. But not that you lived" 😭

17. Its very hard to chose just one! I guess today I'll say.....the Sammy scene where Stede throws the sandwich and it hits Lucius. You can see Nathan crack.

18. #ourflagmeansdeath

19. Actively: Our flag means death, Psych cause I accidentally started a rewatch, Bollywood movies now apparently. Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel. Still in the fandoms but not as active: Haven, Warehouse 13. Once upon a Time. Doctor Who! Still into Sailor Moon. I know there are more but idk at the moment.

20. My first fandom was CSI. The original. FOREVER a Sandles girlie 🤗

21. Sherlock. Took up a good portion of my college years lol

22. My friend from England. We met on RuneScape and went from there, they were with me through all the fandoms . I think one of the first persons from OFMD to ever follow me and then I followed back was @jellybeanium124 ! And the first person when I came back to Tumblr was @jelly-of-many-ships 🤗

23. Everyone!

24. The current fandom I am in allowed me to find a piece of community I was sorely lacking. Not only did I find an online community but it's also led to an irl community. Because of this show I met my favorite people! I also got to go to Galaxycon with fandom friends! Like @captain-charlemagne ❤️ And I met some people near me who are in this fandom and had a chance to go out and be active again.

25. Not everyone will agree with your thoughts and feelings and headcanons about characters. And that's okay! Fandom is suppose to be a space for love of these characters and it's fun to share how you view them! But it's not worth attacking others; there are real life humans attached to these screen names seen everyday: the people in fandoms have real feelings, triggers, and feel real hurt when they are yelled at/attacked/etc. The way I've survived and thrived is by remembering this and acknowledging that not everyone feels the same and to not take their words personally.

tagging with no pressure: @gentlebeardsbarngrill @stedesbonnets @lunarcryptidz @dontyoulistentome @celluloidbroomcloset @greentea-and-cookies @xray-vex @crimson-phantom-designs @indigos-stuff @critterofthenight @blatterpussbunnyfromhell @virginiaisforhaters @buckley118 @shockingblankets @follows-the-bees @scribophile @xoxoemynn @crimson-and-clover-1717 @teeny-tiny-revenge

and like literally everyone else I follow/follows me/moots/people who stumble onto this! I think you all rock!!

✨ love your fandom asks ✨ 

Saw the opposite of this floating around and thought the reverse might be fun.

list 3 positive things about your current fandom(s)

a headcanon you weren't sure about at first but have come to like!

a character that fandom has helped you appreciate

say something nice about a ship you don't ship (it can be another ship in your fandom, a mutual's OTP, etc)

something you see in fics a lot and love

something you see in art a lot and love

your favorite tropes to read/write/draw

you hope more people will come to appreciate ___ (a ship, a trope, an episode, etc)

a ship that isn't your OTP but that you enjoy

a blog (mutual or one you follow) that has made your fandom experience brighter

if you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making?

compliment someone else in your fandom

your favorite type of fandom event (gift exchange, ship week, secret santa, prompt meme, etc)

the ship that always makes you smile

the character that always makes you smile

a tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate

the thing in canon that everyone loves and that you also love

a fandom tag that you track

your current fandom(s)

your very first fandom!

a fandom you're not active in anymore but that you still really like

the fandom friend you've known the longest

the fandom you're curious about because of a mutual

how has fandom positively impacted your life?

a piece of advice for taking care of yourself in fandom spaces

[novahreign]

Sinners

Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Lucinda “Lu/ Lil bit” Hawkins.

A/N: I wanted to give it a try. I’m a Smoke girlie. That’s my type of man.😜💙 I hope that you enjoy.

“Elijah. Please, don’t do this.” I begged gripping his bicep. “Please.” He gathered me in his arms.

I had been cheesing and humming all morning. Mama had gone into town and daddy was working, this was the only day that both of my parents would be gone and Elijah could come over. I finished my morning chores and freshened myself up from this hot Mississippi weather. I had been having sex with Elijah or Smoke, what most people called him, although I never taken a liken to it, for two full months and my folks were non the wiser. I smiled to myself, I just didn’t understand how something that was such a sin, felt so good. Elijah always knew how to me feel good, how to make me feel like a woman. He was always gentle too. Never harsh with me like he was to everyone else. My mother didn’t know what I saw in him, she just I didn’t understand, that’s all.

When Elijah came in, I was prepared to make love. He always did know how to work that thing between his legs to bring me so much pleasure, oh, and his tongue, sweet Mary, did he know how to use it on me, have me saying swear words that my mama would have my hind for, but instead of my sweet Elijah, I got the one with fear in his eyes. One I only saw a few times. He rushed inside and told me that he and his brother were leaving town. I could feel my heart bout to beat outta my chest. He gathered me in his arms, kissing the side of my head. “I gotta go Lu, don’t make this any harder for me.”

“Why are you doing this? Where are you going?!” I could feel my heart slowly crumbling as he worked to avoid my eyes. “Elijah, what did you do?”

His twin brother Elias “Stack” laid on the horn “Hurry nigga. We gots to go.” He seemed nervous as he scanned the dirt road. A man, I didn’t recognize sat in the drivers seat, kept his gaze straight ahead. “Smoke, let’s go!”

He looked at me with wary eyes “I gotta go baby.” He kissed me harder than he’d ever had before. I tried to savor every moment as I melted in his arm. “Promise me you’ll write.” I sensed his hesitation “You don’t have to say where you are, just let me know that you’re alright and that you’re thinking of me.”

He nodded his head “I’ll do that. I promise.” He kissed me one last time but before he made it to the end of the yard, I yelled out to him. “I love you Elijah.” He smirked “I love you too Lil bit.” I smiled faintly at the nickname that I hated, but would give anything to hear him say it forever. He hopped in the back of the car.

“Don’t forget to write.”

“I won’t! I promise.”

The car sped off down the road, leaving a cloud of dirt behind. I waved until I couldn’t see them anymore.

Sometime later, I learned that the twins killed their daddy or that’s Bessie’s grandmother was telling everybody. I know how cruel and evil his daddy could be and if that’s why he left then I could accept that. That was seven years ago. He never did write like he promised. I waited for years for a letter. Eventually I picked up the pieces of my heart and moved on as I best I could.

“Alright. Class is dismissed. You all go and make it home. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Bye, Ms. Hawkins.” The cute little brown faces of boys and girls exited the white painted barn that was used for schooling during the weekdays. I sighed as to face one little grumpy face child. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling but I put on my serious face.

“Lester Sims, You oughta be ashamed of the way that you carried on today.” His little frown loosened up some. “I expect better from you. You’re a smart boy and have a brain.” I tapped his head “Use it, because the next time you act like this, I’m liken to take a switch to you and I don’t want to have to do that, You hear me?”

He nodded his head and let out a gruff “Yes ma’am.”

“Alright now, gon and head home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stomped his way out of the barn as I began tidying up. I unsnapped the button to my blouse, it was hot as Satans tail in this classroom. Hearing footsteps I turned around.

“Lester, you’re always forgetting something, I tell you ever-“ my words got caught as I looked up.

“You as hard on poor Lester as your mama was on me and Stack.How you doing, Lu?”

I gripped the chair, to keep myself from falling, it was like looking at ghost. Elijah Moore stood in front of me. Bigger and more put together than I’ve seen a colored folk before. He tipped his hat “Elijah.” I said, my voice coming out way softer than I wanted or needed it to. Hell, I was mad at him. Seven years you’ve been gone and got the nerve to come back looking like this?! I cross my legs at the ankles. Seven years wasn’t enough time for my body to forget the only man to ever touch me. Then anger boiled in my chest. I dropped the broom, brushed past him, stomping my way out of the school, like Lester did. I was almost far enough when I felt a grip on my arm. I turned so fast bumping into his rock hard chest.

“Can we talk?” Tears welled up in my eyes.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” I tried my best to keep myself together. “Just stay the hell away from me.” I jerked from his arm, headed down the road, not once looking back. I couldn’t, not yet.

[angstywaifu]

Someone Caught Feelings - Garrick Tavis

Summary/Request: You and Garrick have a no strings attached arrangement, but what happens when your feelings for him get revealed.

A/N: This contains spoilers for Onyx Storm. If you have not read Onyx Storm or past a certain cake moment. Do not read.

I can’t help but watch Garrick as he continues to chop up the rest of the wood for the campfire we’re all gathered around on the beach. We’d barely had time to rest over the last few days, meaning I’d barely had time to process anything that’s happened.

Mainly the fact Garrick hadn’t died. I don’t remember much of what happened, other than someone having to hold me back as I launched myself at our hosts. All I’d seen was red. Wanted to spill their blood on the table we’d all sat at and eaten with them. Great way to keep my feelings hidden. At least Garrick had been unconscious for that. Had no idea that I’d lost it.

This no strings attached arrangement we had was slowly forming strings from my end. For the first few months it was easy. At night we’d enjoy each others company, and during the day we’d act as friends. Able to separate the two with ease. Till recently when it became harder and harder for me not to enjoy his company. Notice every damn thing about him. Notice whenever had came into a room, notice how he moved and fought, how he touched me…. I was going to have to end our arrangement before I slipped up and revealed how I felt.

”All I have felt on me the last few days is your eyes.” Garrick states as he sits next to me, startling me from my thoughts. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with how you reacted the other day?”

Shit. How the hell did he know? I do my best to hide my shock as I turn my attention to the fire in front of us that Mira and Drake are currently trying to cook our dinner on.

”I reacted just like everyone else.” I tell him, a blatant lie I know he sees through when he scoffs at me.

I jolt back when I feel his nose skim my ear, his hazel eyes pinned on me with a hint of amusement. “That’s not what Xaden told me.” He murmurs as he smirks at me.

”A Xaden who was busy trying to keep you alive.” I state, hoping the tinge from the fire hides the flush working its way onto my cheeks from embarrassment on being caught out.

”You know all too well Xaden sees everything. And he definitely didn’t miss as Dain having to stop you from murdering our lovely hosts, or the way you lost it when Aaric said I wasn’t breathing.”

”You were practically dead. We all panicked.” I tell him bluntly.

”True, but no one as much as you. Which has me curious. Why did you react like that? We’re just friends with a… mutually beneficial arrangement. Unless.” He drawls as he cocks his head to the side, his damn dimple popping as his smirk deepens. “Someone caught feelings.”

I don’t give him a visual reaction, but with how damn fast and loud my heart is beating right now, I’m surprised he doesn’t hear it.

”You’re my friend. Of course I’d be worried and upset over you being practically dead. There’s nothing else to it.” I snap at him as I stand up and turn my back on the fire as I walk down the beach.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I angrily wipe my eyes in an effort to stop the tears that decided to try make an appearance as I storm down the beach and away from everyone. I couldn’t let Garrick see me like this, it would only confirm his suspicions on how I felt. And I couldn’t let that happen. No. I had to make him think I was angry at him for pushing me on this, for insinuating I had feelings. And then, when we were back at Basgiath I could call this stupid arrangement off and try move on. I’m too busy storming down the beach to notice the rushed footsteps behind me and gasp when a strong hand grasps my elbow and spins me around to face a very concerned Garrick. I watch as his eyes take in my watery eyes, the skin around them probably red tinged from me trying to force the tears away.

”You do. Don’t you?” He asks me, his voice much softer than before, void of the cockiness from a few moments earlier.

”Fine. I do.” I admit angrily as I step out of his grasp, throwing my arms wide. “I fucked up and caught feelings. So I guess that’s the end of this arrangement we have.”

Instead of Garrick agreeing with me and saying it’s done he just stares at me. The sad look is still on his face, but instead of nodding or walking away he shakes his head. No. He’s saying no. Why is he saying no to ending our arrangement? That was our agreement. That if it became more than just friends having sex, it was done.

”No. It is not over.” He tells me as he steps back into my space, grasping my hips in his hands as he pulls me flush against him, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. “This is far from over. Sgaeyl showed Chradh what Xaden saw. I saw how you reacted. Saw your heart break when Aaric said I wasn’t breathing and when I collapsed. Saw everything in you snap when you thought you were going to loose me. And as fucked up as this is to say, it made me so damn happy to see you react that way. Because then it wasn’t me who had also gotten feelings.”

”Y-you what?” I nearly yell at him in shock, causing Garrick to chuckle at my outburst.

He reaches up and cups my face in his hands, thumbs caressing my cheek as he smiles down at me. “I. Have. Feelings. For. You.” Accentuating every word that falls from his mouth as if making sure I understand exactly what he is saying.

Which I do. I understand every word that falls from his mouth. But I still somehow don’t believe it. ”

Why? Why me?” The question slipping from my mouth before I can stop it, probably sounding like an idiot.

”Because it just felt natural with you. At first it was just sex, I won’t deny that. But over time I found myself wanting you instead of wanting sex. I wanted to spend more time with you, wanted to hear those noises you make fall from your lips over and over again. You were consuming my brain every waking moment. And there was nothing I could do to stop it. And I didn’t want to stop it.”

I look behind him, to see the others still struggling with dinner, completely oblivious to us being gone. I reach up and grab his hands, pulling him towards the trees, his cocky smirk back on full display.

”Lets see how many times you can get those noises to fall from my lips before dinner is ready then.” I tell him as we cross the tree line and pull his lips down to mine.

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: how your future spouse will display their jealousy

Hello and welcome to this reading! Here I will tell you how your future spouse would display their jealousy. I hope you enjoy this reading!

masterpost > paid readings > patreon masterlist

The extended version of this reading can be found on my patreon, the link of which is here

Pile 1:

Your future spouse sometimes finds it difficult to be able to really tell you how they feel and where their boundaries lie; communication isn’t always their strong suit and when it comes to possibly preventing jealousy this is very much the case. They are embarrassed about the fact they feel possessiveness and jealousy over you; they see it as being insecure in your relationship between one another and being insecure about themselves as an individual. Your future spouse has a hard time accepting their jealousy as fact and will therefore not tell you (on their own accord that is) whether they’d wish you did something different or not. It’s not as if the littlest of things make them jealous, it does take a lot for them to actually get to that point, but if they know they aren’t too comfortable with something you’re doing they wouldn’t tell you, even if simply making you aware would solve it all. Your future spouse definitely shows off their jealousy by becoming more alienated from a conversation if not a complete group, they might not talk to you as much as they usually do and you would very early on notice a change in your future spouse’s behaviour.

extended reading > paid readings (open again!)

Pile 2:

You and your future spouse are going to meet relatively early in life, think about the age in which you are still partying around, a bit arrogant at times, possibly still in school (college/university), a frat-boy kind of vibe even. Your future spouse whenever they are jealous will be loud about it, and to you maybe even proud (it’s not like they’re hiding their jealousy, everyone is aware of how they are feeling whenever they start). Your future spouse will walk up to the person that causes those feelings, they will put their arm over your shoulder and hold you close, they might even mock the person that is causing them to feel such ways in hopes of making them feel little and themselves feel like a big predator (I am aware to some this comes over as cringe). This is not something that will stay with your future spouse forever, not at all, it purely has to do with the fact you two will meet when you are both relatively young, and for their social settings your future spouse acts completely normal. Surely, a bit immature, but understanding given their circumstances.

extended reading > paid readings (open again!)

Pile 3:

Your future spouse is a pretty calm and collected person. If they are jealous they will not make it your problem, nor will it be something they are embarrassed about. They realise that jealousy is a feeling that is normal to everyone, something very human, and it’s okay to feel such feelings; however, it doesn’t mean you can react in anyway you wish. Your future spouse will make it known to you if they’re uncomfortable with you doing something, but they will do so afterwards in private as to not embarrass you or make a big deal out of something that shouldn’t be remotely close to it. When jealousy sparks in a group of people or in public in general they will try to not make it known to you, or at least, not so much that you will feel incredibly bad about something; because that is not something they wish to achieve. The most your future spouse will do is tighten their jaw and semi-aggressively chew on something to eat; because they are aware you secretly like to see them jealous every once in a while, so hiding it completely is not needed.

extended reading > paid readings (open again!)

[ponderingmoonlight]

Oh, to be trapped with Dante

Pairing: Dante x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,3k

Synopsis: What's worse than getting trapped with Dante? Getting trapped with a stripping Dante.

Warnings: this is hilarious and fluffy at the same time, I'm still begging for Dante requests so get in my inbox if you have one, hope you like it @veijdana

You’re not sure what sets it off.

Maybe it’s the faulty lock. Maybe the door was always a little off its axes. Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour when it comes to you and that guy.

What you do know for sure is this: the door slams shut, there’s a sharp click, and no amount of jiggling the handle is getting you out of this storage room-slash-death trap. No windows, no signal, and the only light is from a flickering overhead bulb that looks like it could give up at any moment.

Perfect.

So much to being the greatest demon hunters of them all.

You turn slowly to Dante, who’s lounging against a metal shelf stacked with boxes labeled “Supplies” like this is nothing. Like he didn’t just help trap you both in a glorified closet with a single bottle of water and a half-eaten protein bar. Like he did something except for watching you struggle with that heavy ass door.

He raises an eyebrow.

“Problem?”

“The door’s locked.”

“I noticed,” he replies, utterly unbothered.

“Dante.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, barely able to hold it together any longer.

“Please don’t call me that right now.”

“Noted,” he declares, in a tone that means absolutely not noted.

He strolls over, casually tests the door for himself, then shrugs.

“Yeah. We’re stuck.”

“No kidding.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait until someone finds us.”

“Which could be hours. Or days.”

He grins, shameless.

“Even better.”

You sit down hard the cold ground. It creaks threateningly, but you’re too irritated to care. He paces once, twice, then flops down across from you like this is a vacation, arms behind his head, one leg draped over the other ready to sunbathe.

Except this isn’t Miami beach but a mouse trap.

“Are you always this calm when you’re locked in small spaces with people you annoy for fun?” you question innocently.

“Only when it’s you.”

You narrow your eyes, gaze spitting thick venom at him.

“Do you actually enjoy pushing my buttons this much, or is it just some kind of defense mechanism?”

“Little column A, little column B,” he thinks out loud, flashing you a lazy smile.

“But if we’re being honest… you're kind of cute when you’re mad.”

You throw a balled-up wrapper at him. He ducks it easily, still smirking.

The minutes stretch. Then an hour. The silence tries to creep in, but Dante won’t let it. He talks. About nonsense. Old missions, weird dreams, things he overheard once that he probably wasn’t supposed to. You try not to laugh. You really try.

Eventually, you’re sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, legs stretched out, head tilted toward him without meaning to. He’s closer now, somehow. At some point. The distance between you shrunk while you weren’t paying attention.

“I think you like being trapped with me,” he mutters, voice quieter now.

Less teasing, if that’s somehow possible.

“You haven’t told me to shut up in, like, ten whole minutes.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat behind it.

“That’s because I’ve accepted my fate. Resistance is clearly useless. And somehow I get the feeling it turns you on even more.”

“Exactly. Might as well enjoy yourself.”

He bumps your knee with his. You don’t move away. No, somehow, this faint touch has a comfort to it, a warmth you haven’t felt for quite some time by now.

The silence now is different. Thicker. Weighted. Like you’re both suddenly aware of how still everything is. How alone. It’s just you and him. You and the walking sex symbol itself Dante.

Your voice comes out softer than you mean it to.

“This is the part where you make some dumb joke about body heat, isn’t it?”

He chuckles, low.

“Tempting. But no. Not yet.”

You glance at him.

“Yet?”

He shrugs.

“I’m giving you a few more hours before I wear down your defenses. I’m not a complete monster.”

You shake your head, lips twitching despite yourself.

Another stretch of silence. Then:

“You ever think about it?” he asks suddenly.

You blink, caught off guard by that strange and unexpected question.

“About what?”

“Us. Like - if this whole ridiculous situation wasn’t so ridiculous. If it was… different.”

Your stomach does something complicated. You turn your head to look at him, your palms starting to get sweaty. Why do you always feel like this when he’s around?

He’s watching you, eyes dark and serious for once. No smirk. No teasing.

“Yeah. Sometimes,” you admit quietly.

A beat.

“I like the idea,” he confesses.

You nod.

“Me too.”

He shifts closer, shoulder brushing yours now, solid and warm and real. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Still not sharing my blanket, though.”

You snort.

“I’m not cold.”

“Yet.”

You laugh. And this time, you let your head rest against his shoulder. Just a little.

Just enough.

Bonus:

You're curled on one side of the room, using your jacket as a pillow. Dante's a few feet away, stretched out like he owns the floor, arms folded behind his head. The silence has gone companionable, easy. You almost forget where you are.

Until he moves.

You hear the rustle of fabric first. Then the unmistakable sound of a zipper.

You lift your head, every single alarm going off inside your head. No, he isn’t about to strip…Is he?

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to sleep,” he remarks like it’s obvious.

Which it isn’t.

At all.

Because his shirt is coming off, and now he’s unbuttoning his pants in the dim light of the room, clearly visible to your accustomed to dark gaze.

“Dante-”

“What?” he interrupts, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“I always sleep naked.”

You sit up straighter, just the thought of seeing him naked, let alone shirtless...

“You are not - you can’t just strip.”

He shrugs, already stepping out of his jeans like this is just another Tuesday with a pizza waiting on his desk for him.

“It helps with thermoregulation. Look it up.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, turning away.

“You’re the worst.”

“You say that, but you’re not telling me to stop.”

You don’t. You don’t want to. Which is the worst part.

He stretches out again, now under the thin blanket you both agreed to not share (but he’s already claimed half of), bare chest barely hidden in the dark, a picture of shameless comfort.

You try not to look. You try.

He catches you anyway.

“See something you like?”

“See something I want to throw a box at.”

He laughs - low, satisfied, like he just won a game you didn’t know you were playing.

“Relax. It’s not like I’m gonna pounce on you.”

“You better not.”

“Unless you ask nicely.”

You grab your jacket and hurl it at his face. He catches it one-handed, grinning like he’s thriving on your outrage.

“Goodnight, Dante.”

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

You lie back, trying to will your pulse to settle. But you can still hear him breathing across the room, steady and slow, and you swear you feel the heat from him bleeding across the short distance between you.

The night settles heavy. And you're very aware you’re trapped with a half-naked Dante, no door, no escape, and a dangerous lack of personal space.

Sleep is going to be impossible.

And you think he knows it.

“I still feel you staring-“

“Shut the hell up, Dante.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

could you pretty please write a reader meeting james' parents with like two versions: the first time where she's shit scared and nervous, and the time where she's completely blended in with the family and is talking like a family member, helping effy in the kitchen nd everything pretty please? (sorry if this was too specific, i love love love ur writing! <3)

This was such a cute ask! I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long to get to it, but I hope you enjoy it

The first time you meet Fleamont and Euphemia Potter you’re literally on the verge of passing out from how bad your anxiety is.

You want them to like you.

James does his best to keep you calm but the second he parks his car in their driveway your heart rate picks up again.

“James, what if I mess this up and they hate me?” You turn to him in the passenger seat, staring at him with wide eyes.

James cups your cheeks, “You’re not gonna mess anything up, lovie. They’ll adore you, I promise.”

The minute he knocks on the door Euphemia is there, her apron still on and her gray hair combed back in a French twist.

“Jamie,” she envelops him in her arms and as he hugs her back she meets your eyes. “Oh you’re just gorgeous.”

James pulls away from her to introduce you. Euphemia shushes him with a wave of her hand. “Hi darling,” she pulls you into an equally enthusiastic hug and your fears start to melt. “I’ve heard so much about you. But come in and tell me everything.”

Fleamont brews tea for everyone, you and Euphemia finish dinner in the kitchen together, but it’s not as nerve wracking as you’d thought it’d be.

She’s made a roast dinner, beef, potatoes, salad, and broccoli cheese. You’d brought an apple crisp and ice cream for dessert.

By the end of the night, your fears are all gone. James can’t help but he smug on the drive home.

After a year of dating James, he swears you and his parents speak more than they do to him.

You don’t even have to knock anymore when you get there, you have a key to their house now.

Euphemia beams when she sees you, James rolls his eyes fondly when you wrap your arms around her.

“Hi mum, nice to see you too.” He says sarcastically and Fleamont laughs from his spot in the kitchen.

“Jamie boy, help out your old man.” Fleamont and James are one and the same, you know Euphemia cooked, but her husband and her son don’t let her pull the hot trays from the oven. James never lets you do it either.

James pulls a tray of scones out, Fleamont gets the iced tea from the fridge and the clotted cream and jam.

You and Euphemia are doing puzzle, a spring river one you’d gotten her last time you’d come by.

“Do you think the heat will disrupt the flowers too much?” You ask as you take a peek into her garden. Euphemia has the loveliest flowers you’ve ever seen.

“I’m hoping they won’t, but if it comes to it, I’ll set the sprinklers on.”

James comes in just then, two glasses of iced tea in hand.

“Did you add berries to this one mum?” He asks as he sets the glasses down.

“Some of the blackberries came out early, so I just threw those in before the heat could get to them.”

James smiles, “It’s delicious.”

You take a sip and can’t help but agree. “Do I smell scones?” You ask and Euphemia beams, she loves feeding people.

“The last of the oranges were out there so I made plain scones and orange jelly.”

They’re perfect, and what makes it even more perfect is the sun and breeze coming in through the windows.

[eden031]

No Myrna!

Pairing: Michael „Robby“ Robinavitch x chief resident!f! reader

Warnings: fluff, age gap, mentions of death and injury, mentions of amputation, the Pitt crew being a dysfunctional family, Myrna being Myrna, reader can be read as autistic though it is not explicitly stated, Myrna ships it, unaccurate depiction of how hospitals work, medical inaccuracies

Summary: Some days begin bad and only get worse as the day goes on, but sometimes at the end of it it is all worth it.

Words: 6.2 k

A/N: Hey, so I still wrote this. The next part for ‚First meetings‘ is currently in progress and so is the second part of ‚Sweet boy‘, though I cannot promise to update as frequently as I have in the past few days due to Uni starting again and I don‘t know how much writing I will be able to get done between assignments. I still hope you enjoy :)

It was one of those days, one of those days that promised to be horrendous from the moment they started. It started with a malfunctioning alarm, making her wake up way too late. A hastily prepared, then dropped breakfast, spilled coffee, a quick scrub change that ended in her almost hitting her head on the dresser. Almost getting run over by a total of four cars and she had not even reached the hospital at that point.

Inside the hospital it only got worse, barely not slipping on something wet, something that looked suspiciously like pee, though she was not sure if it was human or animal pee, but honestly she did not care. Nearly being elbowed by a patient in the face as she made her way through the waiting room to get to the ED she finally slipped into the controlled chaos of The Pitt.

Just ducking out of the way in time an empty bedpan came flying at her head. Quickly she made her way towards the breakroom. If this day could get any worse she really hoped that she would not have to be part of it. Setting her backpack down she opened it only to realise her lunch was not in there, nor was her beloved thermos filled with Chai. They must still be sitting safely on the kitchen counter in her apartment. A long sigh escaped her as she leaned against the chair, eyes closed, her shift had not even started yet and she was about to have a breakdown already.

„Morning, Sunshine,“ the gravelly voice of the night shift attending, a hint of humour in his tone as she glared up at him.

„Morning,“ she grumbled at the man who let out a low whistle, „What do you want?“ she sighed, rubbing her face, hoping that the man was just there to check in on her and not deliver some kind of news. As she looked up she saw his expression, mild worry, but also amusement mixed with something that looked like guilt.

„Don‘t tell me, let me guess,“ she sighed, she knew that look well, it was the same look Robby would give her when he told her that they were understaffed, „We are severely understaffed today.“

„Bingo,“ Abbot sighed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, „Collins, McKay and Mohan all called in sick, you also want all the nurses that are not there?“ His tone was not amused, as she buried her face in her hands, just shaking her head.

„And the med students?“ she asked, hopeful that at least one of them might have called in sick. It was not that she hoped that they were sick, it was simply that with this rotation of med students and the new intern she only really liked one of them.

„All in today,“ Abbot spoke softly as she let out another low groan. This was really not the news she wanted to have to deal with right now. That would mean that shit would really hit the fan today.

„So who is coming in for backup?“ she asked, „It can‘t just be Robby, Dr. King, the med students and I, right?“ she asked. The expression on Abbot‘s face said more than enough as she asked the question.

„Seriously?“ she asked, „No backup?“ she was starting to boil, this was not something she could deal with right now.

„I‘m staying, working a double so you guys aren‘t that understaffed, but…“ Abbot trailed off, gesturing with his hand in the air.

„No one can come in?“ she gaped at him, feeling like he was trying to pull a joke on her, a really bad one at that.

„Almost everyone‘s sick,“ Abbot explained. She hated flu season more than anything, because even if you wore a mask full time in the ED, you would still get sick at some point and apparently the entire Pitt crew was knocked out.

„May God help us all,“ she muttered as she got up from her seat, walking over to Abbot. „Thanks for sticking around,“ she smiled at him, he simply nodded, gently patting her back. They started walking towards central, as they reached the most open part of the ED she could see Gloria walking around, talking to Robby.

She looked around for the transfer notes Ellis had written for her and Collins, though she knew that these were now mostly her patients, glancing at the board she knew that today would get even worse than it had already been until now. Dr. King seemed to have been put in charge of triage, something she was incredibly thankful for, this was not something she needed on her plate now as well.

„So which Med Student do you want to drag around all day?“ Abbot asked as he also glared at the board like it had personally offended him.

„Just keep Santos off my back and I am happy,“ she muttered, glancing over to the side she could see the intern and two med students chatting amongst themselves, „I think Javadi should help with triage, she has some experience there,“ she muttered.

„So you are giving me the honour of working with Dr. Santos?“ Abbot asked, a half teasing tone in his voice, she gave him a mildly annoyed glance. She thought Santos was full of potential, could make a great doctor, but she thought she would fit better in surgery. Her bedside manner lacked to an extent that was almost painful.

„Yeah,“ she nodded, „Please, I know you are a lot better at handling people like that,“ she sighed, giving Abbot a pleading look.

„I know someone that has a lot more patience and a firm but gentle hand that could use some practice working with people like that,“ his voice was still teasing and she shook her head. He was right, she needed to work with people like Santos more often. Robby told her as much, that had been one of the reasons she had ended up in his ED and not in surgery, the simple fact that she could not stand people like Santo.

„Shut up,“ she gave him a glare as she took a deep breath. Suddenly even over the chaos of the Pitt she heard soft tapping of feet, accompanied by the squeaking of wheelchair wheels.

No, please, not today.

„Hey there, sweet cheeks,“ the voice of Myrna came from behind her. Turning her head slightly she gave the older woman a long, hard glare.

„Good morning, Myrna,“ she said in a tight voice. Usually she found some amusement in the older woman, but today she was really not in the mood for her shenanigans.

“Your boyfriend is looking for you, sweet cheeks,“ Myrna nodded in the direction of Dr. Robby. A low groan escaped her at that, most days when Myrna would call Dr. Robby her boyfriend she would get at least a bit flustered, but right now her nerves were already frayed and she was not sure how much of this she could deal with today.

„Myrna,“ she drew out the older woman‘s name in a warning, „Dr. Robby is not my boyfriend, but thank you for letting me know he is looking for me,“ she muttered under her breath as she turned to head towards Robby. Abbot gave her a pat on the back, a reassuring smile on his lips as she started walking away from Myrna she heard her voice again.

„Whatever you say, sweet cheeks,“ then she heard her tone shifting again, probably starting to flirt with Abbot. As she reached Robby Gloria was still following him around, talking to him about patient satisfaction, again. Telling him how his department needed to get better numbers or otherwise the risk of them getting shut down was going to rise. Her brow twitched at that, this was seriously going to be her final straw for the day. As Robby saw her his frown disappeared for a brief moment, but reappeared as Gloria continued to yap in his ear.

„Fucking hell!“ she snapped at Gloria, surprising both Robby and Gloria, but mostly herself „You don‘t work down here and all you do is complain and complain and complain!“ she felt the building anger and frustration of the barely started day begin to manifest, her mind was reeling, she needed to get herself to calm down again. „You don‘t know what it is like to have to work with a barely existent team! You sit in your office all day and complain and complain about our performance!“ Before she was able to say another word, Robby put a hand on her shoulder, stepping towards her.

„Alright, Gloria I think you have heard that speech already,“ Robby gave the CMO an angry glare.

„That discussion is not over yet, Robinavitch!“ With an angry huff she walked past them, not before shooting her a disapproving glare.

„You okay there?“ Robby asked after Gloria was out of earshot. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment then nodded slightly.

„Just a really rough start to the day,“ she whispered, like it was some deep secret. Robby gave her a worried glance, raising his brow in question.

„Robby,“ she took a deep breath, knowing that the following statement would probably explain to him how bad her mood was, „I can feel the part of my scrubs where I cut off the label rubbing against my neck and I feel like my whole body is on fire, I can hear every single sound in my vicinity and it feels like my brain is about to go into an overload induced shut down, so yeah, a really rough start to the day,“ she gave Robby a pointed look at her, slowly lifting his hand from her shoulder. A soft sigh escaped her, usually if it were anyone else that had touched her this long she would have snapped at them in the mood she was currently in, but Robby‘s hand on her shoulder had been a reassurance of some sort, comforting, grounding.

„Okay, I get that, but I need you here with me right now, okay?“ His voice was gentle as he spoke to her. She nodded slightly as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

„You take Whitaker with you, I will make sure he stays on track so you don‘t have to worry about that as well. Stay on top of the higher risk patients Ellis handed you over, Abbot will make sure the lower risk patients are cared for. For incoming traumas today it will be you and Whitaker, alright, I will join you if I can, but right now we will have to make sure that we stay on top of everything, okay.“ It was just a rundown of the plan. A rundown of the way they would be operating today and for some reason it was probably a greater comfort than anything else he could have told her. The instructions were clear, care for the high risk patients, handle incoming traumas. Everyone else would have to find a way to deal with their plates during this shift.

“Thanks, Robby,” she gave him a small smile. Robby never failed to help her in situations like this, always knowing what to say or what to do, he had this way about him when he talked to her like this. Taking deep breaths, she tried to focus on what was important right now, deep breaths, be nice to the kid, take care of the patients.

“Of course,” slowly he reached out, giving her time to say something if she didn't want him to touch her. Nodding softly she gave Robby a quick smile, he gently padded her shoulder.

“And remember to eat and drink something,” he gently spoke. Nodding slowly she squared her shoulders, readying herself for the worst thing that could happen during this shift.

——————

Whitaker had joined her quickly, she had put him on two cases they needed to take care of, just getting the history of the patients and a basic workup before their exam and treatment. He had handled that rather well and had even given minor treatment orders to the people he had seen, already lifting some work from her. She still checked up on them, calling radiology or surgery to get these people in line for whatever they needed.

A bicycle accident had come in as a trauma, she and Whitaker had been able to handle it quickly, sending the man to the CT and then to the OR within twenty minutes. The guy had been complaining the entire time, threatening to sue her and the hospital if he wouldn’t be able to ride a bicycle angin.

She had yelled at the Attending of Cardiology when he had bitched about not having enough beds for the cardiology cases she needed to send upstairs. Both had major heart issues, even if it was not a heart attack they would still receive much better and safer care in cardiology. He had folded after she had told him that she would be sending them up anyway, even if he told her that there was no room, which she knew was bullshit because Esme had told her that three beds in cardiology had opened up. While all this was happening there was one major annoyance always not too far away from her: Myrna.

“No Myrna!” she had shouted as she saw the older woman trying to roll out of the ambulance bay door, rolling her back she had put the brakes back into place, leaving the woman at the nurses’ station. Whitaker, the poor guy, had gotten an obscene amount of bodily fluids over him during the entire shift and she was just glad that this was not her.

Another trauma had come in, this time a kid that had fallen off the balcony on the second floor. His mother had screamed in her ear the entire time, elbowed her in the stomach twice and once accidentally hit her in the throat with an open hand. They had gotten him stabilised as well, sending him up for a CT and then neurology, she had yelled at the chief resident there, telling him that they currently had not the capacity to deal with a potentially paralyzed seven year old. He had simply muttered something about his Attending killing him, but had taken the kid upstairs.

“No Myrna!” she had shouted as Myrna seemed to be heading straight for the men’s restroom. Pulling the wheelchair backwards towards the disabled bathroom.

“Or I can get you a bedpan,” she had told Myrna with a deadly glare. The older woman had simply lifted her hands, grinning like a cheshire cat and agreed to use the bedpan. It was like she was trying to get on her nerves today.

“Just tell your boyfriend that I am missing him today!” Myrna sighed as she handed her the clean bedpan. A groan left her lips as she heard Dana shouting at her that they had a motorcycle accident victim coming in hot via air transport.

They had headed to the roof, just her, Whitaker and Robby. The EMT’s had helped bring the man into trauma 2, getting him on the gurney and making him comfortable. He had practically been sliced in half, there was nothing they could really do, it was a miracle the man had even survived that long. They pumped him full of morphine and tried to stop the bleeding as best they could, luckily thanks to the EMT’s they knew that he had a DNR so when his heart stopped they simply turned off the monitor and had to move on.

The wife and kids of the motorcycle accident victim had arrived only about ten minutes after he had passed away. His wife had yelled at her for not doing more to save her husband even after she had explained the DNR and the issue with his injuries to her. She had tried to punch her, then was escorted out of the ED while she was still screaming and thrashing around, swearing to sue the hospital.

She had called Dr. Shamsi, this time she had not yelled at the person she was talking to over the phone. Nicely asking if she had the capacity to take one of her patients into an OR ASAP, luckily Shamsi still owed her for something so that was quickly done and another bed was freed up.

An amputation of the left leg at the knee had been brought in, they had stopped the bleeding, pumped the man full of morphine, called radiology, booked him an x-ray and a CT, bumped a few other people waiting, but got him off their hands rather quickly, especially since they still had the limb and surgery would take him quickly to make sure that they could still try and reattach the leg.

“Uhm…sorry?” Whitaker asked as she stared at the board trying to make a mental checklist of people she could move around or discharge, though most of the patients she was seeing were not ready to be discharged yet.

“What, Whitaker?” she asked, glancing over to him, he stood beside her, staring at the empty space where Myrna’s wheelchair had been only five minutes ago.

“Oh shit no!” she cried out, looking around she saw Abbot talking to one of the nurses, Santos running around like a headless chicken.

“Abbot!” she shouted as loudly as she could, his head snapped towards her, “Do you know where Myrna is?” He just shrugged and shook his head.

“Well, shit!” she cursed, looking around she saw one of the nursing students looking a little lost, like he had no task. “Terry, come here,” she gestured him over to her, “I have a very important task for you,”

Terry had luckily found Myrna, it had taken him almost half an hour, but he had found the woman, something she was incredibly grateful for, especially since in this half hour she had been able to finish up a few cases for Abbot who seemed to be a bit overloaded with them. A fight bite, a kid who had broken his arm, an elderly woman that had broken her hip, a young guy that had gotten his hand stuck in a bottle.

“You know you and your boyfriend make a really cute couple,” Myrna almost purred, “But I have to say that I am kind of jealous of you, I would like to get a taste of that ass,”

“Jesus Christ, no Myrna, for the last time he is not my boyfriend!” she groaned as she headed towards a room in which Dr. King had just deposited an agitated twenty five year old that was vomiting blood.

That case was solved quickly after asking a few questions and finding out that he had a nosebleed and had put his head up instead of down and had swallowed a whole lot of blood. Still she had done an ultrasound and ordered a CT to rule out anything serious. Whitaker was also running around now, helping an asthmatic patient, doing sutures on another one, taping wounds shut or helping out where an extra pair of hands was needed.

Another trauma rolled in, a teen that had been electrocuted by the neighbours new electric fence. Garcia from surgery came down for that, she had tried really hard not to yell at the woman that frayed her nerves on the best of days, but today was not a good day so she had yelled at her as well. Telling her to suck it up and just take the kid that clearly needed surgery for his arm upstairs.

“You know, I never thought I would say that, but…” Robby trailed off as he watched Garcia take the teenager upstairs for surgery, “You in a bad mood really makes all the difference on a bad day, maybe we need you in a bad mood on more days, you have been clearing beds and moving patients like there is no tomorrow,” Robby gave her a small grin as she rubbed her face, feeling like her head was about to explode. She looked at Robby, not being able to suppress her annoyance.

“You can be lucky I didn’t kill anyone yet,” she muttered looking around, “Though you might be getting a complaint about me from cardiology and neurology,” she muttered under her breath, trying to keep herself from shutting down. The only thing that kept her brain from going into a complete shutdown and probably meltdown was the adrenaline pumping through her system. Taking a shuddering breath she was about to bolt towards central again when Robby grabbed her arm.

“Did you eat something?” he asked, giving her a concerned look. His big brown eyes looked like a puppy as he stared at her.

“Robby it is not even noon yet, I don’t need lunch right now,” she grumbled and was about to rip her arm from his grasp when he pulled out a protein bar from the front pocket of the jacket he was wearing.

“Eat that now, I don’t care if you eat it in two bites, just eat it,” Robby’s expression was stern as he handed her the protein bar, giving her hand a slight squeeze as he handed it over to her. Quickly unwrapping it she thanked him quietly and left the room, wolfing it down in three quick bites.

Hysterical screaming came from somewhere, deciding that it was best to head in that direction. She saw a woman holding her own hand, and for a moment it did not register in her mind what was wrong with that image, but then she saw it. She was the woman literally holding her own hand and for a moment she wondered what it was with all these amputations today. Bringing the woman to a room she quickly took care of everything, also putting her in line for an x-ray, calling surgery to give them a heads up about another amputation.

“You know, my husbands never made sure that I ate, and you insist that he is not even your boyfriend,” Myrna tutted from behind her as she leaned against a work station, feeling her back pop in a few places as she stretched it.

“Myrna…” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. For a moment she wanted to yell ‘No, Myrna!’ again, but her thought process was interrupted by Whitaker yelling.

“I need a little help here! Code blue!” he shouted. He sounded a little panicky as she saw him, grabbing a pair of gloves she started running towards the room. A group of nurses already brought the crash cart with them. As she entered the room Whittaker was already doing chest compression. It wasn't even five minutes and the patient was back again, taking a deep breath as she did an exam, trying to find out what was wrong. Waiting for lab results would probably bring some clarity to that situation.

The day went on and after what felt like an entire gruelling shift it was only noon. Standing at a workstation she quickly typed in the information for the chart.

“Here you go,” Robby appeared right beside her, a mug of something that smelled like chai and a sandwich in hand. A laugh escaped her as she pulled out a sandwich from her scrub pocket. It was egg salad, something she knew Robby loved.

“Thanks,” she took the mug of chai, the sandwich, handed Robby his sandwich and gave him a small smile.

“Of course, can’t have my best resident collapse by the end of this shift,” he smiled at her as he unwrapped his sandwich as well, they ate in silence while both of them filled out a few charts.

A groan echoed from somewhere near them. Myrna was watching them, shaking her head like she could not believe what she was seeing.

“No Myrna!” both of them groaned at the same time, “Don’t even say it,” Robby shook his head as he got up from his chair, giving her a gentle pat on the back.

“You got this,” he smiled at her as he disappeared into the depths of the ED, looking over her shoulder she could see Abbot leaning against the nurses’ station, looking like a ghost on two legs, at least to the people that knew him. Getting up from her seat she grabbed a sandwich off the tray and threw it towards him. A quick smile on her lips as he caught it, toasting it towards her with a small smile.

Hurrying off, she continued to treat patients. Broken bones, deep cuts, other issues. She tried her best to keep up with everything.

Patient yelled at her, threatened her, one even spit her in the face. The only reason she had not punched him being that Whitaker had somehow in his awkward and yet adorable fashion deescalated the situation.

“No Myrna!” she hollered across the ED as she saw the older woman trying to escape once again. She didn’t even have to start moving, Robby already there, turning Myrna around and pushing her back towards where they usually parked her. A relieved sigh escaped her lips as she was able to head off again.

Time dragged on and the day felt like it was never going to be over. More angry patients about the long wait times, more agitated people, more people that were yelling and luckily at some point amidst all the chaos of the day shift change arrived. It went relatively smoothly and she was able to leave the ED by eight sharp.

“Hey!” Princess shouted, “Do you want to join us in the park?” She tilted her head towards the park where she knew the rest of the Pitt crew sometimes spent their evenings. For a moment she hesitated, she had the feeling that this day would only get worse if she decided to stay outside for much longer, but as she saw Abbot and Robby standing with Princess she simply nodded quietly.

“Yeah, why not,” she whispered softly as she trudged along with them, at the front of the hoard were Santos, Whitaker and Javadi, chattering about something. In all honesty she was not sure how the three got along, but apparently things like a mass casualty event bring people together. Abbot and Robby were talking in hushed voices, like they were sharing some kind of secret with each other. Finally they reached the park benches, a long groan escaped her as she was finally able to take a seat. Her legs hurt like hell and she saw Abbot taking off his prosthetic, a sigh of relief coming from him.

Beside her Robby was moving his hand around his backpack. Suddenly he let out a sound that was oddly close to pride as he pulled out a small bag. Quickly opening it he smiled softly.

“Come on, hand out,” he gently nudged her side as she stared at him for a moment, confusion settling in her mind, though she was too tired to argue, simply holding her hand out. Carefully he tilted the paper bag and from it dropped a few roasted almonds into the palm of her hand.

Her eyes went wide as she saw them hitting her hand. A bright smile grew on her lips as she looked at Robby.

“Thanks,” she grinned at him, picking up one of them and popping it in her mouth. As she chewed on the sweet almond a soft sigh escaped her. Around her the chatter continued, she continued to snack on the almonds, feeling a single hot tear of gratitude run down her cheek, quickly she wiped it away.

“You okay?” Robby gave her a gentle smile as he looked over at her, a beer in his hand. His big brown eyes that were always so full of worry fixed on her.

“Just,” she looked at the roasted almonds in her hand, she choked slightly, “This just made my day,” she whispered, smiling tiredly at him. “How did you know?” she asked in a quiet tone so that the others around them wouldn’t hear them.

“You mentioned once that these were your favorite snacks after a rough shift, so I decided to get some in case you need a ‘little pick me up’ from time to time,” he smiled at her. She could feel her face getting hot as she nodded softly.

“Can I?” she gently nodded in the direction of his shoulder, she knew that Robby didn’t always want to be touched, just like her, so she just wanted to make sure she didn’t overstep. Especially after this rough of a shift.

“Of course,” he gave her a soft smile. Scotting a bit closer she felt their arms brush, leaning her head against his shoulder was a relief, his warmth a great comfort, the feeling of his breaths calming in a way that little else was to her nowadays. Closing her eyes she simply listened to the conversation around her. Almost about to fall asleep when Whitaker’s voice pulled her out of the lull.

“Who is Myrna talking about when referring to her,” she opened her eyes slightly, seeing Whitaker gesture in her direction. “Boyfriend?”

The question hung in the air for a moment before she heard laughing coming from somewhere beside her, it was definitely Abbot laughing.

“Ah, come on man,” Robby grumbled, she could feel the vibrations of his voice against the crown of her head.

“Whitaker,” Abbot laughed again, he was probably shaking his head. There was a long silence, then a deep breath. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, sorry, Dr. Robby, but I thought you were her partner and Myrna was just always referring to someone else being her partner,” Whitaker sounded mildly embarrassed.

“Honestly, same,” she heard Santos, then a few gulps, probably drowning the rest of her beer can.

“Why does everyone think we are a couple?” Robby sounded mildly confused, amusement lacing his voice. A few beats of silence.

“You are literally letting her sleep on your shoulder,” Abbot sounded so amused that she had to refrain from opening her eyes. “And you hate almonds,” there was a pause, “You carry around almonds for her, you wouldn’t eat them even if it was your only option,” Abbot repeated his statement.

“And you bring her food,” Princess now chimed in. There was a low agreement of murmurs, then another voice spoke up.

“And you bring her tea,” Donnie, he sounded like he was about to start laughing.

“Oh, and I still remember that look on your face when that patient was flirting with her last week, you looked like you wanted to rip that guy’s head off,” Jesse spoke in his usual soft and measured tone, though there was a certain amusement to it as well.

For a moment these statements hung in the air, weighing down the atmosphere, then a soft laugh came from Robby. She was shaken slightly and let out a quiet huff of dissatisfaction, the shaking stopped slowly.

“I guess we do act like a couple,” he sighed, running his hand over face, at least that's what it felt like.

���And it’s a damn shame you aren’t actually one,” Abbot sounded like he had told Robby that countless times already. Slowly she started to blink, opening her eyes she let out a soft yawn, the chilly air in the park made her shiver slightly as she sat up straight again.

“You got a jacket?” Robby asked her as he looked at the goosebumps on her arms. Giving him a sheepish smile she shook her head, before she was able to say anything Robby had already unzipped his hoodie, slipping out of it.

“No, Robby,” she shook her head, stopping him in his motions, gently placing her hand on his. “It’s alright,” she smiled at him, simply wrapping her arms around herself. Glancing to the side she could see the looks being exchanged between the others.

The evening wore on, from time to time she could see Robby twitching when she rubbed her arms. Slowly but surely everyone started heading home until it was just her and Robby sitting on the park bench. Glancing over at him she smiled softly, his features were only illuminated by the dim light from the lantern near them. He looked magnificent with his hair slightly mussed and eyes half closed because he was so tired.

“I think I should head home,” his voice cracked slightly as he was about to get up. She was not sure what possessed her to do it, but she grabbed his hand. The warmth sent a slight shiver down her spine as she squeezed it.

“Thank you, Robby,” she whispered, giving him a watery smile.

“For what?” he looked slightly confused, now standing, looking down at her with those big brown eyes.

“For caring about me,” it sounded so strange to say out loud. Yet she squeezed his hand softly, trying to keep herself from saying more, the tiredness in her bones and yearning in her heart almost too much.

“Of course,” he spoke softly, he sighed, “Do you want company?” he sounded so unsure, like he was proposing something scandalous.

“Yes,” she nodded, it was hard for her to admit these things. She had been alone for such a long time that even asking for something as simple as that felt like a burden.

“Alright, come on,” he did not let go of her hand as he pulled her up from where she was sitting on the bench, picking up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. During the walk to Robby’s place they never let go of each other’s hands, like it was the only way to not lose each other in a crowded room, though the streets were empty.

At his place he had turned on the lights, offered her something to eat, something proper. Together they ate the leftovers in silence, no words needed to be exchanged between them, at least no right now. As the plates were empty the silence stretched on, sitting at the kitchen table in the dim light of his apartment for the first time it felt like whatever had been building between them had come to a peak. The years of shared pain, the years of shared fear, anger and resentment against the world, the loneliness that could threaten to consume someone even when surrounded by people.

After a moment Robby got up, putting the plates into the dishwasher, he leaned against the kitchen counter for a long moment, staring at the washing machine.

“Do you want to stay?” his voice was soft, glancing over his shoulder she could see the pain in his eyes.

“If it’s alright with you,” she answered in a hushed tone, afraid that if she spoke any louder the moment might shatter. That she would wake up in the ED because she had been knocked out by a patient and all of this was just a dream, just a fantasy her mind had conjured up.

“It is,” he nodded, then left the kitchen, for a moment she was concerned, not sure where he had gone. Then he returned two neatly folded items of clothing in his hands. “I guess you don’t want to sleep in your scrubs,” his tone sounded light and for a moment she thought that she could get used to this.

“Yes, thank you,” getting up from where she was sitting and taking the clothes from Robby.

It was a pair of his joggers and an old worn out t-shirt that smelled like him. Changing in the bathroom she put her scrubs into the washing machine, Robby put it on for a quick load, they settled on the couch while they waited for the washing machine to finish, she was snuggled up beside him, her head resting against his chest. Neither of them really acknowledged the fact that they both knew that there was no going back from this, that they had crossed a line on which they had been teetering for way too long.

The beeping sounded, she put everything into the dryer, putting that on. Robby started turning off the lights as they reached the bedroom he picked up a pillow. Shaking her head she had gently wrangled it out of his hands again, putting it on the bed.

Together they settled under the soft covers and for the first time in what felt like forever her mind stopped going in circles as she laid down, the comforting weight of Robby behind her. The first time in forever that when she laid down to sleep she was not plagued by anxiety or the feeling of shame, at that moment it was simple, it was easy, it was peaceful. Though the last thought that crossed her mind before she slipped off to sleep was the way she had hollered ‘No Myrna!’ across the ED and the expression on Robby’s face when he had looked at her while wheeling Myrna back to the nurses’ station. That warmth, that fondness wrapping around her mind like a warm blanket.

[kikidoul]

── BEACH WEATHER.

ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ 박종성 x fem! reader content strangers to lust trope ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content usage of petnames open ending used jay being a green flag protected sex fingering pussy eating aftercare both reader and jay have experience lmk if i didn't tagged anything else. . .!? 2420— mlist. req

note. second time writing jay and i think i did a decent job writing for him! also would like to share that i kinda cringed when i was writing him and reader's interaction. i hope this meets your expectations hehe. can i count this as a happy belated birthday to jay though... taglist. @tfwbluu @hoonstqr @riqomi

This is a horrible idea. 

You sighed for the unknown time after rejecting a stranger’s offer of him buying you a drink. You knew the implication behind his seemingly innocent, friendly offer and you didn’t want to take the chance. You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms with a scowl on your face as you scanned the sea of people before you. But it was futile. You couldn’t find your friends, the very same group of friends who promised they will stick with you and won’t leave you alone. 

You were at a beach party, having decided to go on a much-needed vacation to the beach with your friends to celebrate the start of your holidays. When you were told there will be a party happening at night, your friends begged for you to join them. At first, you declined because you weren’t a party person and you wanted to spend your night under the sheets to read your favorite book. But your friends were persistent, which brings you to your current dilemma.

Unlike a regular nightclub, the beach party is open-air with loud, edm music playing in the background. Thankfully, there was a bar that allows you to sit back, have a drink while you enjoy the fresh air. Well, that was the plan until three guys approached you, back to back with the intention of doing something more than just having a drink. 

“Hello, you look annoyed.” 

Ugh great. 

Rolling your eyes, you prepared yourself as you looked to your side, only to pause when a handsome man appeared before you. He has honey-toned skin, messy pitch-black hair from the wind blowing past and a sharp jawline that you might cut your finger with a simple graze and his features were something crafted from the hands of Gods and Goddesses. To put it simply; he was really attractive, enough to make you feel flustered when you realised you had piqued his interest. 

“Was that a question or an observation?” You asked, maintaining your politeness while keeping your guard up. 

The stranger chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he stood beside you while keeping some distance. The small, kind and thoughtful act made your heart skip a beat. “That was an observation. I’ve been looking at you for a while now and I have to say, you’re really beautiful. I don’t think words are enough to do you justice.”

You could only pray that he won’t notice your reddened ears and cheeks at his honesty and sincerity. “Why thank you. You sure have a way with words, don’t you? Do you talk like this to other women too? Or is it just me?” 

You weren’t sure where you got the confidence, but you were pleased with his reaction: eyes widening slightly at your response before he composed himself, eyes gleaming in mischief and amusement. 

He leaned in slightly, a movement so small but you caught it anyways, a sly and suggestive grin stretching across his face. “What if I were to say it’s just you? Would you accept my offer?”

You decide to play along and copy his expression. “And what would your offer be?” 

“How about you and I get a drink later? My treat.” 

You arched an eyebrow, impressed with his bold move. Both of you knew there won’t be any drinking done, considering how he was undressing you with his lust-filled eyes. 

“Sure, that sounds lovely.”

~

As expected, you found yourself in his room. Clothes were hurriedly removed and tossed to the carpeted floor without a care in the world. Unlike the previous hook-ups you have done, he was gentle. The way he treated you was as if you were a fragile piece of glass that could shatter at any moment, if he wasn’t careful enough. You could tell he has plenty of experience with how he ate you out. 

“F-Fuck, don’t stop, please,” you whined, eyelids fluttering shut as he plunged his tongue deeper and at the same time, pushing two fingers in until he was knuckles-deep. 

He groaned at how tight you felt, your velvety, gummy walls clinging onto his fingers without any intention of letting him go. He crooked his fingers, grinning at how you physically flinched and he knew he had hit bullseye. He audibly moaned against your pussy when you grabbed a fistful of his hair, your thighs locking him in place. He didn’t care if you were choking him to death. If this was how he goes out, he wouldn’t mind it at all. 

He alternated between giving sweet, quick kitten licks and harsh, long swipes of his tongue, giving you whiplash. To Jay, your sounds are the sweetest sounds he has heard, like music to his ears and he wants to hear more. He wants to see you falling apart under him. He wants you to remember him when you do this with someone else, someone else that isn’t him. 

He lets you grind yourself on his nose, causing you to gasp when you find the perfect angle. Your back arched off the bed when you felt your orgasm coming. You tried to say something, anything but your mind turned to mush when he gave a harsh suck to the sensitive bud peeking out. And that was enough to tip you over the edge. You tried to pull him away but it was futile. His strength easily overwhelmed yours and it’s like he wants to be buried deep in your pussy.

You let out a high-pitched cry as he greedily slurps away, like he was a famished kitten drinking from a plate of warm milk. Your limbs felt boneless the moment it was over, your thighs slumping on his shoulders and your grip loosened on his hair. Jay finally moved away and seeing how his face was drenched in your slick, his lips glistening under the lights and some had even landed on his forehead made your cheeks flushed red. 

Jay wiped them away with the back of his hand, tongue darting out—the very same tongue that made you feel like you were floating, to clean his damp lips. Your throat felt dry, nervously swallowing as your hands laid by your sides. He shifted backwards so he could get off the bed but you stopped by, grabbing his wrist and he gave you a questioning look.

“Wait, what about you?” You asked, eyes glancing down to the bulge in his pants.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry about me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

You light-heartedly rolled your eyes. “I’m fine with you fucking me, but with a condom of course.” 

“Oh.” 

You laughed at how he stared at you, taken aback with your consent and words. You motioned for him to come over with two fingers, a coy grin on your face as you spread your legs, snickering at how his eyes trailed down, lingering in the spot between your legs. “What’re you waiting for, pretty boy? Get to it or I’ll leave.” 

He didn’t need to think twice, fumbling through the bedside drawer and pulling out a small box of condoms. The sight made you raise an eyebrow. 

“Do you always bring that with you?” You questioned, pushing yourself further up on the bed and repositioned the pillow as you laid your head on it, along with sliding another pillow underneath your hips for support. 

“Uh, my friends bought it as a birthday gift to me. It’s stupid—I mean, they’re stupid,” he stuttered, hands managing to tear the transparent packaging. He got to his knees and that was when you saw it. 

Your mouth moved before your mind could process the words. “I don’t think that’s going to fit.” 

He paused in the midst of sliding the condom over his hardened, standing upright cock that stood proudly as it rested against his stomach. “I’ll make sure it fits, princess. Just lay back and look pretty, can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, feeling shy at the sudden usage of the pet name. You watched as he moved with confidence, like he knows what he’s doing. He positioned himself in between your legs, gently gripping onto your upper left thigh and aligned himself with your entrance. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his tip gliding against your still puffy folds, gathering the remaining slick. His eyes softened at the sight of your hesitation, rubbing circles on your skin. 

“Hey, it’s fine. Just calm down and relax for me,” he assures you. “I won’t put it in until you allow me to. I’ll wait for you, princess.” 

Biting down onto your lip, you nodded, nails digging into the soft sheets beneath you. “...Go ahead.” 

Instead of slamming in in one go, he slowly pushes in inch by inch. It felt like decades when he finally bottomed out, eliciting pleased sounds from both of you. Your head spins at how full you feel just from his cock alone. He didn’t move, eyes focused on your face while searching for any signs of discomfort. He was patient and that was something rare in the hook-ups you have done. 

“You can move,” you gave him the greenlight and he hummed, adjusting himself. 

The slight movement caused his cock to rub against your walls, drawing a blissed-out sigh from you. He pulled out until his tip was still inside before pushing back in and repeated the movement, keeping a steady pace but it was enough to draw soft “ah-ah-ah” from you. You tilted your head back, raising your left leg and he got the hint—slinging it over his left shoulder. The small change of angle allows him to slide and hit deeper. He was practically kissing your cervix, with how deep he could go. 

Lewd sounds of skin against skin combined with your moans and his groans echoed amongst the four walls of the hotel room. You were sure whoever walked past would know what you’re doing. The thought of the chances of people hearing you made you clenched down on his cock, drawing a hiss from him. 

“Fuck, you sure you’ve done this before? You’re so tight like a virgin,” he gasped, voice hoarse. He already sounds ragged, his previous calm and collected composure slowly fading away. 

“Ngh, m-more,” you whined, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his cock hit the spot that made your legs spasm. 

“Yeah? You want more? Your greedy pussy is not satisfied with what I’m giving?” He sneers, the sudden change of his personality leaves you speechless. 

But you were too far gone to think straight, getting drunk on the intoxicating, addictive and heavenly feeling of him thrusting into you. You could only let out a whimper, the sound making him smirked. He readjusted his hands, moving from your thighs to your hips and with new found strength, he increased his pace, fucking into you without mercy. 

“Oh god, s-so good, hah,” you cried out, words borderline slurring as you succumbed to it. 

You knew you were reaching your climax when your muscles tightened, like a rubber band stretched to its limit and how your legs were already shaking. All it took was one final sharp thrust and you came with a cry. He, on the other hand, showed no signs of slowing down and continued snapping his hips against yours as he fucks you through your orgasm. All you could do was to lay there, allowing him to use you to reach his climax. 

You shuddered when he spilled into the condom, able to feel the warmth of his cum through the thin fabric of the condom. He slowly pulled out, making you wince at the sudden uncomfortable feeling of emptiness, quickly tying the condom and tossed it into the bin with terrifying accuracy. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling back some of the strands that were stuck onto his forehead. 

“Wait here, I’ll be back,” he said, not waiting for your response before going to the bathroom. His words made you snort, as you couldn’t move an inch, not after what he did. 

He returned a few seconds later, holding a damp towel and took his care in wiping you clean. When he was done, he passed you a plastic bottle of water, even going the extra mile by helping you in drinking it by supporting the back of your neck, like how a mother would do to her newborn baby. He then removed the stained sheets, tossing them to the floor, which will be a problem for the housekeeper tomorrow. Once you were properly hydrated, he moved to where his luggage was, dug through his clothes and handed you a set of his own. 

“Uh, I’m not sure if you’d prefer wearing your own clothes or if you don’t mind, you could wear mine for the night. No pressure or anything,” he said, looking everywhere else but you. 

“Sure, I don’t mind,” you shrugged your shoulders, accepting the clothes and putting them on after slipping back into your underwear, looking down to see his shirt reaching your thighs. Still, you wore the shorts, which acted more like pants for you. 

“You can stay here for the night if you want,” he said, eyes searching your face, afraid he might be taking it too far. 

Your eyes softened as you nodded in silence and his shoulders sagged with relief. He quickly wore his clothes and the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the bed, pulling the covers up until it reached your chins. It didn’t took you long to fall asleep, sharing the bed with someone who you had just fucked. 

The very next morning, you woke up to an empty room. His luggage was gone too. You looked to your side, surprised to see that your clothes were neatly folded and placed on the bed. But what caught your attention was a note placed on the bedside drawer. Reaching over, you opened it and read the handwritten message. 

Hey, 

I realised that I didn’t get your name and that’s very rude of me. Sorry that I didn’t wake you up as I had to leave for the airport. But if you’d like, perhaps we can get to know one another more? You can text me if you want. I’ve left my number below. Oh and, you can keep my clothes. They look better on you ;)

Regards,  Park Jongseong (Jay) xx-xxxx-xxxx

[sqgeism]

On a roll with the Anaxa fics! (i love him so much i cant even)

so, a bit specific; sometimes i bottle up emotions and get so anxious i might even get physically sick from it. what would phainon and anaxa do for reader when that happens? +anyone else you like

Thank you for reading. Don't do if this crosses boundaries

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | anaxa and phainon (seperate) x gender neutral reader

love mail — hellooo anonnie!! thank u i try my best w him and the others ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ i hope you're alright!! i hope this request is up to standard and u enjoy also erm anaxa's is more nausea n stuff.. phainon is like. actual sickness. like you're unwell.. sick and stuff... sorry i wasn't sure so i did both ゜゜(´O｀)°゜

long before you got into a relationship, you understood how to handle yourself when your stomach began to churn in nausea. your own steps to stop it, or to recover afterwards.

anaxa watches as you fidget quietly, today was another experiment regarding his pursuit for knowledge- but it involved something physically violent for him. he knows you're more morally intact than him, more human, but he's not going to act above those feelings. he cares for you, even if it's hard to see upon first glance.

"sorry." you see him staring, and force yourself to hold it together. but anaxa isn't having it.

he puts away whatever he was focused on, but the confrontation makes it worse. you don't wanna ruin his experiment, so you abruptly stand. "please excuse me. don't wait, just continue."

he blinks as you walk off, out of his lab and back to the hallways. it doesn't take long for him to follow, noticing how you frantically down a cup of water.

anaxa puts two and two together. he's not stupid, he knows your habits, he knows you.

before you can even reach out to the cabinets, he's already opening them and reaching for crackers that you leave for moments like this. he pops a bag and passes a cracker to you, his expression stern but caring. "i noticed these help you, please, eat it slowly."

once his hands are free, anaxa opens the kitchen window to let in fresh air. then you notice, that he's noticed. he knows how to help, he's learned how to help, and you've never realized it before. "is there anything else you need?" the utter concern snaps you out of your daze, and anaxa's suddenly looming over you now, his knuckles brush against your cheek and his eye is fixed on your face. studying you for any more signs of discomfort.

"i won't be continuing with the experiment today," he sees how your face shifts and shakes his head. "don't worry, i'll find something else to do. i'm realizing now that my experiment has too many risks, yet the only one i care about is the one that tells me that you'll be upset with me."

the sage brings you into his arms, having you close as he buries himself in your hair. "please, never be upset with me."

phainon doesn't want to scold you, but he really wants to. though you don't need that right now, especially with the fact you've had such a shit week and the fact you're bedridden.

he's cuddling you while you rest, listening to you snore as he's behind you, your head on his bicep and legs tangled together. he'd say it would make it hard to leave, but he has no plans to. so he doesn't care.

you two often had conversations about how you handle emotions. you were still navigating that realm of your relationship after being an independent person for so long, and phainon understood that it would take time.. but moments like this made him worry. had his heart aching, wishing he could do more.

he wasn't able to catch on that you were bottling it up either, you were good, he'll give you that. but you could've gone to him, he knows you don't want to be a bother but he prays that you'd 'bother' him. that you'd choose to focus your attention on him, for anything. because he'll be there, aeon forbid he's halfway across the universe cause he'll do anything to go back home, to you.

"i wish you'd trust me more." he knows you're sleeping, but he doesn't mind. he hopes that these words reach you while you're at least at peace. "i'd never force you to, i promise. but it really does something to me whenever this happens and i feel powerless to help." phainon chuckles in a way that's completely robbed of any humor. "i'm a chrysos heir, for aeon's sake. i can handle whatever outburst you throw at me that you'll think i'll be upset over."

his hand ghosts over your hair, slowly caressing you. "but i'll never be. i'll never be upset, not at you. and not when you're just experiencing stress."

he brings his mouth to your ear, whispering. "i love you. i love you, and you know that. so let me take care of you."

he notices how you shiver slightly.

that's when phainon lets out a genuine laugh, stopping you from squirming away from him.

[vero-lynn]

Whatever everyone, SIT DOWN. We're talking about advocate. Yes. ADVOCATE.

Okay y'all, hi hello I need to yap and nobody is around so I gotta talk to a wall.

So, advocate huh? Anytime anyone says that this was a warning for Jay that something was about to happen to Brian I go INSANE. Because NO. IT'S NOT A WARNING. How could it be?

BRIAN, AT THIS POINT, IS GONE FOR THREE YEARS. THREE. YEARS. Advocate can't be a warning because at this time, there was nothing to warn about. Alex MOVED AWAY, he's not in the area for the past THREE YEARS. He dealt with Brian ALL THOSE years ago when he killed him during those three months of recording marble hornets. Okay? Okay.

Now, what IS advocate?

If this was a warning, giving it this title would make literally NO sense whatsoever, so let me tell you what I think this is, and bare with me, it might actually sound a little stupid and crazy but all of my HCs and theories do so y'know, the usual.

Advocate is Brian literally telling us what happened and what he's doing ATM. I mean, JAY DID ASK, and he replied. I don't think Brian ever wanted to keep his identity a "secret", I feel like he was telling us that he's a part of something bigger, and we were supposed to connect the dots later as we see him in S2, and so was Jay - he just .. didn't. And Brian didn't feel the need to repeat himself, I mean - HE SAYS HIS NAME IN NULL!!!

(the crossed out 0 is a B and then you move the rest of the letters around and it literally says Brian.)

HE INTRODUCED HIMSELF AS THE ADVOCATE, AND THEN GAVE US (and Jay) A GOOD-BYE.

Advocate isn't a warning, it's a hello. And I'm so insane about it, I love TTA SO MUCH. We know Brian HATES liars and lying, I mean, he literally calls out MASKY in messages when he comes after Jay and tries to out Tim to him, like.."tell us, you have been keeping secrets, smile for the camera." WITH TIM'S PICTURE IN THE BACKGROUND?? he's so messy.. my baby.. my shayla..

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the read, feel free to discuss because I need this in my life.. I need to talk about these guys.

Guys please talk to me about marble hornets I need someone to yap to.

[daeniradraconis]

Small Moments - L. Hughes /Age Is Just a Number… Right? - Part 3. /

Hi lovelies, So this is it—the final part of Luke’s story! 🥹 To fully enjoy it, make sure you’ve read Part 1 and Part 2 first.

Just a quick note: I know that in Jack’s and Quinn’s stories, I named Luke’s girlfriend Thea, but in this one, I didn’t use any names. So if you’re not a fan of OC fics, you’re totally safe here! These are more like little snapshots from Luke and the reader's story—a glimpse into their everyday life and quiet moments together.

I hope you enjoy this one as much as I loved writing it. 💛

For more fun: masterlist Those red days

“I love you more than I hate everything else.”

Moving in together was supposed to be fun. A new adventure. A fresh start. A romantic milestone. But right now? You wanted to punt Luke out of your romantic milestone.

You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a mountain of blankets, feeling like absolute garbage. Your cramps were killing you, you were bloated, and worst of all—Luke was breathing. Loudly. Or maybe just… normally. But normal breathing was annoying right now.

You turned your head, glaring at him like he was your mortal enemy. “Can you just not breathe?”

Luke, sprawled out on the other end of the couch, paused mid-scroll on his phone. “Uh… what?”

“Stop breathing,” you repeated, voice wobbling. “It’s annoying.”

He blinked. “You want me to just… die?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You kinda did.”

“Well, I didn’t mean it like that,” you grumbled, sniffling dramatically.

Luke, being Luke, took a deep breath and then dramatically held it, staring at you like he was nobly sacrificing himself for the greater good.

For a few seconds, it was nice. Quiet. Peaceful.

But then your stupid emotions betrayed you.

Oh God. What if he actually stopped breathing? What if he suffocated? What if he just collapsed right there, and you had to explain to his brothers that you literally annoyed him to death? What if you had to live with that guilt forever?

Your eyes welled up. “Oh no.”

Luke, still holding his breath, raised an eyebrow.

Tears streamed down your face. “BREATHE, LUKE! PLEASE!”

Startled, he exhaled so fast he coughed. “Jesus, babe! What is happening?”

You launched yourself at him, burying your face in his chest. “I told you to stop breathing, but then I thought about you actually dying and now I feel like the worst person ever because I love you and I don’t want you to die and my hormones are trying to ruin my life—”

Luke was silent for a second. Then, he wheezed. “You—” He coughed, trying not to laugh. “You just tried to cancel my breathing privileges and then got sad about it?”

You sniffled. “Yes.”

He exhaled, rubbing your back. “Okay. That tracks.”

You let out a miserable little whimper. “I hate my uterus.”

Luke nodded solemnly. “Understandable.” Then, after a beat— “You know… there is one way to avoid this every month.”

You pulled back slightly, squinting at him. “What?”

His lips twitched. “You could just get pregnant.”

You froze. Oh. That was not where you thought he was going with that.

Your first instinct was to roll your eyes and smack him, but then—your hormones betrayed you again. Because suddenly, instead of slapping him, your brain went, Hmm. Pregnant. Baby. Little Hughes baby. Luke as a dad. You wouldn’t have a period. Interesting.

You stared at him, horrified.

Luke grinned. “Oh my God. You’re thinking about it.”

“No, I’m not!” you shrieked, shaking your head violently.

“You are!” he laughed. “You actually considered it for a second!”

“I hate my hormones,” you groaned, collapsing back against him. “They’re making me like the idea of things I should not be liking right now.”

He kissed the top of your head, still smirking. “I mean, no rush. But if you ever really wanna get rid of your period…”

You groaned again. “I’m moving out.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “No, you’re not.”

You sighed. “No, I’m not.” …But still. Maybe one day. Our Tradition “Maybe that’s what love is. Having someone who makes all the mundane moments feel like small traditions worth keeping.”

The kitchen is bathed in the soft glow of early morning light, the air thick with the sweet scent of pancakes sizzling on the griddle. The soft plop of the batter hitting the pan is almost rhythmic, and you find yourself humming along as you flip the pancakes, making sure they’re just the right shade of golden brown.

Today is special—it’s Luke’s birthday, the first one you’re celebrating together. You want everything to be perfect. The pancakes are stacked high, their golden layers dotted with fresh, ripe strawberries and a light dusting of powdered sugar.

“Smells amazing in here,” Luke’s sleepy voice drifts from the doorway, and you look up to find him standing there, blinking slowly, his hair a mess of wild curls sticking out in every direction. His face is adorably puffy from sleep, his eyes still heavy with that dreamy haze. He looks like he’s just crawled out of a cloud.

You smile at the sight of him, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Morning, sleepyhead,” you tease, setting the pancakes down on a plate.

Luke shuffles over to you, dragging his feet like he’s still half-asleep, his arms already reaching for you. You giggle as he wraps himself around you from behind, burying his face in your neck. His curls tickle your skin as he presses his puffy cheek against your shoulder, his voice muffled.

“I look like a mess,” he mumbles, his words thick with sleep. “My curls are everywhere, and my face is puffy. I can’t even… I can’t believe you’re making me get out of bed looking like this.”

You laugh, running your fingers through his wild curls, making them even messier in the process. “You’re adorable. No matter what.” You turn around in his arms, meeting his sleepy eyes, still glowing with that soft affection. He’s clinging to you like he can’t quite let go of the warmth of the bed. His arms tighten around your waist as he pulls you closer, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I’m just too tired,” he groans, his voice dragging. “Can’t I just stay here with you for a little longer? I don’t want to leave.”

You laugh softly, kissing the tip of his nose, knowing how hard it is for him to fully wake up. “We have pancakes waiting,” you tease, trying to coax him into action.

He groans again, but the grin on his face tells you he’s already starting to wake up. “Mmm, pancakes. I can get up for pancakes,” he agrees, reluctantly loosening his grip but only just enough to let you move toward the counter.

You grab a mug of coffee from the counter and pass it to him, watching as he takes a sip with a sleepy smile. His eyes never leave you as you set the pancakes on the table, a plate full of sweet simplicity. You sit down across from him, the soft morning light warming the space between you.

He doesn’t let you sit alone for long. After a moment, he’s pulling his chair closer, practically on top of yours, his arm wrapped around your shoulders. His curls brush against your cheek, and you feel the weight of his sleepy body leaning into yours.

You smile, feeling your heart swell. "Happy birthday, Lukey," you say softly, taking his hand in yours.

Luke smiles lazily, his eyes half-lidded, his puffy face breaking into a contented grin. "Thank you," he murmurs, squeezing your hand. "This is the best start to my birthday. Pancakes, coffee, and you." He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, his warmth enveloping you. “I could get used to this.”

You chuckle softly, running a hand through his curls again, the mess of them so endearing. “This is our tradition now,” you tell him, your voice full of meaning. “Every birthday, pancakes and coffee. Just us.”

He pulls back slightly, looking at you with soft, adoring eyes. “I love that,” he says quietly. Then, with a teasing grin, he adds, “But next time, can we maybe skip the getting out of bed early in the morning part? I kind of like being wrapped around you for a little longer.”

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you both dig into the pancakes, the quiet, simple joy of the moment settling around you. For all the big milestones and celebrations that lie ahead, this feels like the kind of tradition that will stick—the quiet mornings, the sleepy smiles, and the deep, unspoken understanding that you're building something beautiful together.

When You Need It Most

“When I am with you, I feel at home. And that’s all I need, really.”

The moment you step through the door, you already know—it’s one of those days. The weight of your job, the expectations, the endless frustration—it all clings to you like a second skin, suffocating, inescapable. You drop your bag on the floor with a little too much force, your keys rattling against the table as you toss them down.

Luke and Jack are sprawled out on the couch, watching something on TV, their laughter floating through the air, but it feels distant, like static noise.

Jack picks up on your mental state the moment he lays eyes on you. So he does what he does best—flashes you a grin and tries to break the tension.

“Hey, you look like you could use a drink.” His voice is teasing, playful—the kind of humor that usually earns at least a smirk from you.

Nothing. You just stare at him blankly.

Luke notices immediately. His smile fades, his eyes scanning your face. “Babe?” His voice is soft, concerned.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Without another word, you turn on your heel and head straight for the bedroom, closing the door behind you a little harder than necessary. The moment you’re alone, it all comes crashing down. The frustration, the exhaustion, the helplessness—it swallows you whole.

Tears burn behind your eyes, and you sink onto the bed, burying your face in your hands. A sharp, uneven breath escapes you, and before you know it, you’re breaking down completely.

You don’t hear the door open, don’t realize Luke is there until you feel the mattress dip beside you. His hand finds your back instantly, warm and grounding, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, voice filled with worry. “Talk to me.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s— It’s my job. My boss wants me back in the office. Full-time.” The words come out choked, filled with frustration. “That’s so much travel, Luke. It’s going to cost me a fortune just to get there. And I don’t—” Your voice wavers. “I don’t even like it. I don’t even know why I’m still doing it.”

Luke is quiet, letting you get it all out. His hand never stops moving, grounding you.

“I just… I feel useless,” you admit in a whisper. “Like I’m stuck. And I don’t know what to do, and—” You take a shaky breath. “I don’t want to move closer to the office, because then I’d have to move out. And I don’t want that either.” Your voice breaks at the last part.

Luke doesn’t hesitate. “Then quit.”

Your head snaps up, eyes red-rimmed as you blink at him. “What?”

“Quit,” he repeats, like it’s the easiest decision in the world.

You let out a humorless laugh, wiping at your eyes. “Luke, that’s insane.”

“No, what’s insane is watching you come home every day looking like this.” His voice is firm but gentle, his eyes locked onto yours. “You’re miserable. You don’t love that job anymore. Why are you forcing yourself to stay?”

“Because I have to.”

“Why?” He leans in, brows furrowed. “Who said you have to?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Luke exhales, shaking his head. “Babe, when we agreed to be together, I told you—I want to prove to you that I can be a man. And in my book, that means being there for you. Protecting you. Providing for you.” His voice is steady, full of conviction. “I can do that. For you.”

You swallow, your heart tightening at his words.

“I’m not saying you have to sit at home and just do the housework,” he continues. “Unless you want to. If being a homemaker is what makes you happy, then that’s a job too. You already take care of everything around here. You make this place a home. I see that. I respect that.” He cups your cheek gently, thumb brushing over your skin. “And I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped in a job that’s making you miserable just because you think you have to.”

Tears well in your eyes again, but this time, they’re different. Lighter.

Luke tilts his head, his voice softening. “Just… take a break. A few months. Give yourself time to figure out what you want. Not what your boss wants, not what’s expected—what you want.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering. “And whatever that is, I’ve got you. No matter what.”

You feel the tension start to ease, but then a familiar knot tightens in your stomach. You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a mix of fear and guilt. “But I don’t know if I can do that, Luke. I don’t know if I can just... not work. People already think I’m with you for your money. They think I’m trying to lock you down because I’m older than you, and—” You shake your head, voice cracking. “Even your mom thought I was only here because of what you have. I can’t... I can’t just stop working, or they’ll be right.”

Luke’s face softens, but his gaze hardens in that way that tells you he’s about to get serious. He takes your hands gently in his. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” His voice is firm but filled with warmth. “First of all, anyone who says you’re with me for my money doesn’t know you. I know you. You’re not the type to care about that.”

You try to speak, but he holds up a hand, stopping you. “And second, let’s be real—do you even let me pay for anything? I took you to Starbucks the other day, and you practically threw the change at me.”

A small, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. “That’s because I can get my own coffee.”

“I know, but you know what? I like spoiling you. And that’s not about me trying to buy your love—it’s because I appreciate everything you do.” He squeezes your hands gently. “And I know that you take care of this—you take care of us.”

Your chest tightens with emotion, and you let out a shaky breath. “But I don’t want you to think I’m just using you. That I’m not contributing.”

Luke tilts his head, a soft laugh escaping him. “Babe, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re not just keeping this place together—you’re running this house. And that’s a full-time job in itself. It’s exhausting, but you do it every damn day.” He pauses, his eyes softening with affection as he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “And you don’t let me or Jack help nearly enough.” He shakes his head with a smile. “But you know what? You make this house feel like home. Before you, it was just a place to sleep, but now…” He exhales softly, looking around as if taking it all in. “Now, after a game, a roadie, or a practice, I walk in and it’s like I can finally breathe. It feels like a safe space, like peace. And that’s all you, baby.”

His voice softens even more, the depth of his love clear in every word. “Your candles, glowing every night… that scent, it’s like a wave of calm. It’s like a hug for my soul after a crazy day. And your lemon sorbet? God, it’s like you put all your care and love into every bite. After we lose, or just have a bad day, it’s like you’re reminding me that there’s still sweetness, still warmth, no matter what. You fill this house with so much love, and it makes my heart so damn full every time.”

He lets out a fond laugh. “And don’t even get me started on those ridiculous fluffy pillows you insist on buying. They’re the softest things I’ve ever laid on, and they’ve made my sleep so much better. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’d still be running on fumes if it wasn’t for them.” He grins, his voice turning playful, but there’s a tenderness there that cuts through the teasing. “But seriously, babe… you’ve turned this place into more than just walls and furniture. You’ve made it us. You’ve made me, and even Jack, better—happier. You’ve put so much of yourself into this home, and it’s more than just a place to live. It’s where we feel loved, where we feel cared for. Where we feel safe.”

Your throat tightens, and he rubs his thumb across your hand, soothing you. “I don’t know if you realize this, but you’re already doing more than most people could even handle. You are so much more than any paycheck or job title. You’ve already been providing, in ways that matter. And if you need a break, then take one. I’ve got you.”

Your heart swells at his words, but you’re still reluctant. “But, Luke... I don’t want you to think I’m just... leeching off of you.”

He pulls you in close, his voice soft but full of conviction. “It’s not leeching. It’s a partnership. I want to be here for you. I want to provide for you. That’s what being a man means to me—being there for the people I love, supporting them in whatever way I can.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “And I don’t want you to feel guilty about that. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You swallow hard, tears spilling over again, but this time they’re tears of relief. You’re finally starting to believe him.

“I know I’m young,” he continues, his voice steady, “but I’ve been around long enough to know what matters. And you? You matter. More than anything.”

You feel the tightness in your chest begin to melt away. “But... I still don’t want people to think—”

He cuts you off with a playful smile. “I don’t care what people think. Let them talk. I’m the one who gets to wake up next to you every day—I know who you are, and that’s all that matters.” Then he grins. “Besides, my mom loves you now. You two get wine-drunk together every other Sunday.”

You gasp, hand to your chest. “Excuse you! We’re enrolled in a very respectable online wine tasting course.”

He lifts a brow, smirking. “Babe… pretty sure wine tasting courses don't involve giggling over cheese boards and impulse-buying matching slippers.”

You narrow your eyes. “That was one time. And the slippers were on sale.”

He laughs, eyes soft as he leans in closer. “All I’m saying is—she loves you. You’re in. Fully, completely. Everyone in my family who actually knows you? They adore you.” He pauses, and looks deeply in your eye. “And the people who don’t? Their opinions don’t matter. Not to me. Not to us.”

Luke grins at you, his arms wrapping around you again, pulling you in tight.

“You’re not using me,” he murmurs against your hair. “You’re with me. And I love you for who you are. All of you. I want you to feel secure, to feel safe, not just financially, but emotionally, mentally—every way. And if that means you take a break from work, then take one. I’ve got you. Always.”

You feel his love, his certainty, and for the first time, you feel like you don’t have to prove anything. You don’t have to justify your worth with a paycheck.

“Okay,” you whisper, finally allowing yourself to let go of that fear. “Okay.”

Luke smiles, his lips brushing over your forehead. “Yeah?”

You nod, your heart lighter than it’s been in a long time. “Yeah.”

There’s a long pause before he adds, his voice playful again. “Now, let’s go out there and tell Jack he completely failed at making you laugh. Because that’s gonna break his heart.”

A watery laugh bubbles out of you, and Luke grins, brushing a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“There she is,” he murmurs, a tender smile on his face. “My sweet girl.”

Tides of Us

"They were two souls who had never been apart, just waiting for the world to catch up."

The air still held the warmth of the day, soft and easy, with the sun just starting to dip behind the trees. The lake was calm, stretching out in ripples that caught the last of the golden light. Shadows from the tall pines spilled across the dock, where the boards were sun-bleached and uneven from years of use.

The wood creaked softly beneath you as you moved. Luke’s arms were wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on the top of your head. You swayed together in a slow, absent rhythm, barefoot and quiet.

Luke was tall and warm and damp from the lake, wearing an oversized hoodie that hung off his frame and clung a little to his skin. His curls, still wet, peeked out from under the hood. You wore a light blue sundress, the bottom of it soaked and clinging to your legs. Your hair was loose, wavy from the water, still drying in the evening air.

There wasn’t much sound—just the lake, the breeze, and the creak of wood beneath you. You didn’t talk. You didn’t need to.

From the terrace of the lake house above, where two weather-worn Adirondack chairs sat angled toward the water, Quinn clicked another photo.

“You’re seriously going full National Geographic right now,” Jack said, chewing around a mouthful of peach. “Creepiest brother behavior I’ve witnessed, and I’ve seen you cry during Finding Nemo.”

Quinn didn’t lower the camera. “Bold talk from the guy who wouldn’t give up the Jersey apartment for Luke and Y/N because he ‘didn’t want to be emotionally abandoned.’”

Jack shrugged and dropped the peach pit into his cup. “Yeah, I’m needy and mildly unhinged. I own that. That’s why I get to judge everyone else.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. Jack had always been dramatic, clingy, and unapologetically himself—and by now, nothing surprised Quinn anymore. Still, he set the camera down and leaned back in his chair.

They sat side by side in peaceful silence, the kind that didn’t need filling. Below, Luke suddenly tightened his grip and spun you around, lifting your feet clean off the dock with a squeal. You laughed—loud and bright—head tipping back as the world blurred around you. Luke giggled too, breathless and boyish, like he couldn’t help it.

When he finally set you down, you reached up on instinct, fingers threading through his damp curls just to mess them up. He swatted at your hand, but you were already darting away with a grin.

“Oh no you don’t,” he called, barefoot steps soft against the dock as he chased after you. You didn’t get far—you never really tried to.

“They’re so in love,” Quinn said simply.

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

He leaned back in the chair, squinting at the dock like he was watching a memory instead of a moment.

“You remember how it started?” Jack asked, a laugh already curling at the edges of his mouth.

Quinn chuckled. “She tried to sneak out of the apartment.”

“She was sneaking out,” Jack said, grinning. “He was still asleep. I found her in the hallway looking like she’d just realized she’d committed a federal crime.”

“She didn’t know who you guys were, right?”

“Nope. She told me I had ‘the vibe of a guy who points at maps for a living.’ Thought I was the local weatherman.”

Quinn smirked. “Yeah... she told me later she only said that because she could tell, you had a huge ego and didn’t want to feed it. Apparently, she thought you looked more like the kind of guy who could make some good money as a stripper.”

Jack blinked, then broke into a loud laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. She figured you out in under a minute.”

Jack leaned back with a proud grin. “What can I say? I make a strong first impression.”

“But she didn’t even know Luke played hockey professionally,” Quinn added, grabbing his beer and taking a long sip.

“Yeah. Thought it was just some weekend hobby or something. Y/N, said he didn’t seem like a pro athlete—apparently Lukey was too cute and dorky on their first date.”

Quinn shaked his head, a little bit more seriously. “I didn’t trust her at first. I thought she was lying.”

“None of you did,” Jack said, smirking. “I was the only one. Best brother, obviously.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. “Y/N is six years older, Jack. And their first date… was... not exactly slow-burn. It was suspicious.”

“Because you didn’t see them from the start,” Jack said, his voice shifting, a little quieter now. “They were like yin and yang, man. Like they’d just met, but they already fit. It was freaky—like, glowing-and-melting-into-each-other level chemistry. But they barely knew each other. I knew right then—this was it for Lukey.”

He shrugged and leaned back, arms folded behind his head, letting the warm breeze play through his hair.

Quinn’s face softened. “Yeah. I realized it too now. She knows everything about him. The way he hums when he brushes his teeth. That he re-watches Harry Potter movies when he’s sick. That he won’t eat banana desserts, but will crush an entire bunch of bananas like a feral raccoon.”

Jack snorted.

“And it goes both ways,” Quinn continued. “It’s kind of disturbing how well they know each other after such a short time. It’s like they skipped the awkward phase entirely.”

Down on the dock, Luke kissed your forehead gently, then spun you again, slower this time. The fireflies had come out—little gold sparks blinking at the edge of the grass as the sky shifted into indigo.

“And she just... fits,” Jack said, his tone softening. “She tolerates my sassy ass, and she handles your moody one. It’s like she was meant to be here with us. And you know, she makes sure I’m included. She cooks for us, always pulls me into whatever plans that two are planning. She’s not just here for Luke. She’s here for me too.”

​​Quinn raised an eyebrow. His brother wasn’t exactly known for sharing his feelings. This caught him a little bit off guard.

Jack let out a breath, still watching you and Luke on the dock. “Before Y/N, it was just me and Luke. We had our thing, you know? Living in the big city, playing on the same team, just relying on each other. We did everything together—hell, it was just us against the world. We built this bond, and I didn’t want it to change.”

Quinn nodded, understanding. Since moving to Vancouver, he’d seen how much closer Jack and Luke had grown. All three of them were tight, but those two had something different—a bond built on living and working side by side. Quinn didn’t resent it. He was glad they had each other, because playing in the NHL was tough. He knew how tough it was to move to a new city, far from home, and still be expected to thrive in such a competitive environment. It could get lonely fast. But Jack and Luke weren’t alone. They had each other. And that made it a little easier.

Jack rubbed a hand over his face, his voice a little quieter now. “I hated the thought of being the third wheel. I was afraid that with her around, I’d get left behind. I know, it sounds dumb now, but... I didn’t want to lose what we had. But she didn’t take anything away. If anything, she made everything feel more... whole. She made our place feel like home. Not just for Luke, but for me, too.”

Jack glanced at Quinn, a little guarded now, like he realized he might’ve said too much. "But don’t tell her I said any of this. We’ve already got enough eucalyptus candles to start our own spa, and I seriously can’t handle another one."

Quinn smirked but didn’t say anything. Jack paused, and for a second, Quinn caught something rare in his brother’s eyes—a flicker of emotion he rarely let slip. Jack cleared his throat quickly, like he could shake it off.

He wasn’t the emotional one. But seeing Luke like that—so happy, so in love—it hit different.

Click.

Jack turned, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? What now?”

Quinn lowered the camera, still grinning. “You had feelings. I figured I should document the event. Might be another decade before it happens.”

“Asshole...” Jack muttered, rolling his eyes. But then he smiled—soft, real. “You know, you were right last Christmas.”

Quinn looked confused. “About what?”

“That Mom’s always right,” Jack said, voice dropping just above a whisper. “Luke was always gonna be the first to get married.”

Quinn let out a quiet laugh, eyes drifting back toward the dock. “That woman’s got witchy powers, I swear. She just knew.”

The last of the sunlight spilled gold across the lake, soft and warm, like it didn’t want to let go. Down on the dock, Luke looked up, catching their gaze. He smiled—proud, in love, a little shy—and in that moment, both Jack and Quinn saw it clearly.That look said everything. It was love. It was growth. It was their little brother—no longer just a boy, but a man.

Wine and Wisdom

“I think that’s what love is. You accept them, flaws and all, because you know they’re worth it.”

It was supposed to be your week.

One last stretch of time before Luke left for the Olympics, before he disappeared into a whirlwind of press, team dinners, strategy meetings, and a level of focus that turned him into a brick wall in skates.

But instead of romantic goodbye dinners or soft movie nights, you were getting Sass Monster Hughes. Olympic Luke had officially entered the building—and he was stomping around like a storm cloud in a Team USA hoodie.

Which is exactly why you were now curled up on the couch with a glass of wine, FaceTiming with a woman who once made it very clear she didn’t like you.

Ellen Hughes answered on the second ring. She picked up with a slow sip of wine and a perfectly timed raised eyebrow. 

“He’s shut down, huh?”

You nodded, sinking deeper into the couch with your own glass. “He’s in full Olympic lockdown. I tried asking if he wanted to do anything tonight—movie, walk, food, literally anything—and he looked at me like I kicked a puppy.”

Ellen hummed knowingly. “Yep. That’s the zone. Doesn’t matter how many times they go through it, the first few days before they leave for a big tournament are always the worst. It’s like their brain shuts every door except the one labeled 'win'.

You rubbed your temple. “It just sucks. I know he loves me. I know he’s stressed. But it’s like I’m not even in the room half the time.”

Ellen gave you a look that wasn’t pity—it was understanding.

“You’re not doing anything wrong. He’s just in it.” She paused, thinking. “This is the part of being with a hockey player no one tells you about. The way they disappear into their own heads before something big.”

You nodded, letting that settle.

“So what do I do?” you asked, voice softer now. “I don’t want to push. But I also don’t want to spend our last night together staring at the wall.”

Ellen’s smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She took another sip, then set her glass down.

“Okay. Here’s the deal. You don’t chase him. You anchor him.”

You blinked. “Anchor?”

“Yeah. Don’t ask for a big romantic night or some emotional goodbye. That’ll make him feel guilty, and guilt makes him shut down more.”

She leaned in, a little conspiratorial now.

“What he needs is presence. Calm. Something solid that reminds him who he is outside the rink. You.”

Your throat tightened.

“So... just be normal?”

“Be you,” she said. “Put on a stupid show you both love. Order takeout from that place he always tries to pretend he doesn’t like. Sit on the couch like nothing's different. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”

She paused, then added, with a smirk: “And when he does, don’t make it a big deal. Just let him lean in. Let him come back quietly.”

You nodded, more to yourself than to her. Something about the way she said it—gentle but steady—clicked.

It was so funny, really. Sitting here with Ellen, drinking wine, trading advice about how to love her baby boy through his weird little hockey shutdown. If someone had told you this would be your Tuesday night a year ago, you’d have laughed in their face.

But now, you couldn’t imagine not calling her.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

She waved it off, but her eyes were soft.

“You’ve got him—even when he gets like this. Just trust yourself. Trust the quiet. And if all things fails, bake him something sweet. If there’s one thing those boys can’t resist, it’s sugar.” She paused, then added with a grin, “And make sure it’s chocolate. Luke would even trade me for a lifetime supply of chocolate cake, and I wouldn’t even blame him.”

You laughed, a real laugh this time. “Noted.”

And just like that, the heaviness started to lift.

—

The night had dragged on in its quiet way. You had kept things light, just like Ellen suggested—no big expectations, no emotional pleas. You were just there, letting the minutes pass by, feeling the calm of your own space.

Luke, though, wasn’t calm. Not really. You could feel the unease radiating off him even when he sat in the kitchen or when he tried to act like he was doing something important. His nerves were eating him up.

You could hear him pacing, the shuffle of his feet as he moved through the apartment. He was lost in his thoughts.

You felt it. The quiet tension between you both. But you didn’t chase him. You just stayed where you were, trying to let him come to you when he was ready.

And after a while, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar figure standing in the doorway again, looking more… unsure than usual. His eyes were on the floor, his body stiff, as though he was fighting himself.

“I’ve been a dick tonight, huh?” Luke’s voice was quiet, almost sheepish.

You paused the TV, finally giving him the attention he needed. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. There was no anger, just… understanding. “You’re just stressed, Luke. I get it.”

He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “No, it’s more than that. I’ve been a shit boyfriend.” He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration clear in his expression. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my head, I’ve barely even noticed you’re here. You deserve better than that.”

You felt a tug at your chest. He was doing it again—the self-flagellation that came with his guilt. “You’re nervous. You’re not yourself right now, and I get it. But you’re not a bad boyfriend, Luke. You are allowed to have bad days.”

But he wasn’t convinced. He took a small step forward, his hands stuffed awkwardly into his pockets. “Still, I should’ve been better. I shouldn’t have made you feel like you weren’t important just because I’m wrapped up in me.”

There was a long beat where neither of you spoke. His eyes flickered between yours, still unsure of himself. Then, in that quiet space, his tone softened, his shoulders visibly relaxing just a little. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that. You don’t deserve that.”

You could feel the sincerity in his words. You smiled gently, the weight of the moment hitting you. “It’s okay, Luke. You don’t have to apologize. I know this is big for you. I just want to be here for you.”

Luke took another step closer, now standing right in front of you. His hands came out of his pockets, but he hesitated, unsure whether to reach for you or not.

Finally, after a long moment, he let out a small sigh and, with a little smirk, looked up at you. “I’m not good at this, you know. The whole… ‘talking about feelings before a big game’ thing.”

You chuckled softly, a small spark of warmth rising in your chest. “I’ve noticed.”

Luke laughed too, but it was nervous—like he didn’t quite know how to move forward. Then, in a rare moment of sweet, unguarded Luke Hughes, he cleared his throat and stepped a little closer.

“So… you’ll forgive me, right?” He was still half-joking, but the way his lips curled into that familiar shy smile made your heart beat just a little bit faster. “I’ll make it up to you… maybe with a date when I get back?”

You leaned back against the couch, pretending to deliberate for a moment, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I don’t know. You’ve been kind of a pain in the ass, Luke. I might need more than just a date to forgive you.”

His eyes widened a little, and his mouth opened, as if ready to make some big, dramatic apology, but then you reached out, tapping him lightly on the arm.

“Kidding. I forgive you.”

His shoulders sagged in relief, and his grin was suddenly much more real. “You’re really not going to make me work for it, huh?” You held his gaze, calm and steady. “No. Because I get it.”

He blinked, still caught halfway between guilt and surprise.

“You’re under pressure,” you continued gently. “This is your first Olympics, Luke. The weight of the team, the media, the expectations—you’re carrying all of it, and I see that. Tonight wasn’t your best, but I’ve had my off days too, and you’ve always been there for me.”

He stayed quiet, but his hand brushed yours, tentative.

“This is what a relationship is. You show up when it’s hard. You hold space when the other person’s struggling. I’m not going to punish you for being human. You’ve never made me feel like I had to earn your love—even when I was a mess. So why would I make you?”

Luke’s brows pulled together, that emotional edge rising in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to shut you out.”

“I know,” you said softly. “That’s why I’m still here.”

A pause stretched between you, full of the kind of silence that feels safe. Then Luke reached out, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Thanks for not walking away,” he murmured, voice rough around the edges.

You gave his hand a squeeze. “Always. You don’t have to be perfect with me. You just have to be honest. We’ll figure the rest out together.”

And in that moment, something shifted. The pressure didn’t vanish, but he wasn’t carrying it alone anymore. You were in it together—and that was everything.

Pillow Fights and Scandalous Interruptions

“In your smile, I see something more beautiful than the stars.”

The living room was a cozy disaster — blankets everywhere, half-eaten snacks on the coffee table, and Uno cards flung across the floor like a tornado had swept through. You and Luke were curled up on the rug, both in sweats, both far too competitive for a game meant for children.

“Blue,” you said smugly, slapping down your card. You saw the twitch in his eye. Victory was close.

Luke stared at his hand, visibly offended. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

He held your gaze for a long second… and then, like a menace, played a red card.

You blinked. “Luke. That’s red. I played blue.”

He grinned, completely unbothered. “Nah, I think you played red. You’re probably just confused.”

“You little—” You lunged for a pillow and whipped it at him.

He caught it mid-air, smirking like the actual devil. “Hey, don’t hate the player.”

“You’re cheating.”

He gave a mock gasp. “Accusing a national treasure like me of cheating? I’m hurt.”

You pointed at his hand. “You just picked up a card!”

“Uno,” he said smoothly, holding up one smug finger.

“You are the worst.” You pouted, folding your arms.

Luke scooted closer, nudging your knee with his. “C’mon, I’m a professional athlete. Losing isn’t in my nature.”

“Letting your girlfriend win once wouldn’t kill you.”

He leaned in, voice low. “But you look so cute when you’re fake mad at me.”

You were definitely still mad. Sort of. Okay, maybe not at all.

“I’m revoking snack privileges,” you warned, poking his chest.

He gasped like you’d threatened his career. “That’s cruel and unusual.”

“Deserved.”

Luke tilted his head, the mischief in his eyes replaced with something softer as he brushed his fingers over your knee. “Guess I’ll have to find another way to earn forgiveness.”

Before you could say a word, he pulled you into his lap like it was second nature — strong arms wrapping around your waist, the warmth of his sweatshirt and skin making it impossible to stay flustered. He looked up at you, close now, his expression shifting.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “For being my safe place. Even when I’m annoying.”

You softened instantly, sliding your arms around his neck. “You’re not annoying. You’re just Luke.”

“And you’re just... magic,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I missed this. You.”

Your breath caught, the space between you charged and humming. And then you closed the gap.

You kissed him—fierce and hungry—your lips crashing against Luke’s as you pressed yourself closer, straddling his thick frame. His body, honed from years on the ice, was solid beneath you—broad shoulders, muscular thighs, rough hands that held you with quiet command. You rocked your hips, grinding against him, and felt the hard length of him through his sweatpants, a low rumble escaping his chest as he deepened the kiss, tongue claiming yours.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured against your lips, voice low, steady, his hands gripping your waist to slow your movements just enough to keep you right where he wanted. His control was effortless, the kind that didn’t need words, just the weight of his touch. You rolled your hips again, testing, and his fingers tightened, holding you still for a moment, his brown curls falling messily over his forehead as he looked up at you, eyes dark with lust.

You smirked and tugged at his hoodie. He didn’t hesitate, letting you pull it off, and your breath caught a little. He was solid—shoulders broad, chest cut with sharp muscle from years of training. Not bulky, just lean and strong in a way that made it hard to look away. Your eyes dropped to the two small scars on his chest. One sat just below his collarbone, a faded reminder of the time Jack nearly took him out with a skate back when you were kids. The other, newer, curved faintly over his ribs—earned in last year’s game against the Panthers. You brushed your fingers over both, your touch slowing without meaning to.

He watched you with that steady, unreadable look, saying nothing as your hands moved over him, tracing the heat and shape of him. Then his hands slid under your sweatshirt, rough palms gliding over your skin as he pushed it up and off. Your tank top followed, the straps slipping from your shoulders, and then his mouth was on you—warm, sure, lips closing over your nipple in a slow pull that had you gasping.

“Luke,” you breathed, fingers tangling in his brown curls, the strands soft and messy as you held him there. He hummed against your skin, tongue flicking, one hand splayed across your back to keep you close, the other guiding your hips to grind against him at his pace. You could feel him, hard and thick, the friction driving you wild.

You slid a hand down his abs, past the waistband of his sweatpants, and wrapped your fingers around him, stroking slowly. He was heavy in your hand, and when you squeezed, his jaw clenched, a soft groan escaping as his hips shifted slightly.

“Fuck, baby, you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he said, voice rough but still steady, his hand catching your wrist to guide your strokes, showing you exactly how he wanted it.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Let me taste you,” you whispered, tugging at his sweatpants, eager to get them off. His eyes flickered with something dark and approving, and he let you slide down, his hands still on you, keeping you close as you started to work the fabric down his thighs.

Then the door burst open.

“OH MY ACTUAL GOD—WHAT THE FUCK?!”

You yelped, snatching for the closest hoodie—Luke’s, of course—and dragged it over your chest with shaking hands. Your hair was a mess, your face was flushed, and your legs were very much still wrapped around your boyfriend.

Luke didn’t even flinch. He let out a long, tired sigh, like he’d just been asked to take the trash out during overtime.

Jack stood in the doorway, clutching a Gatorade like it was a weapon against sin. “Are you—” He gestured wildly. “—is this happening?! In the living room?! ON THE FLOOR?!”

Luke exhaled slowly like he’d been through this before. “You forgot to knock.”

“This is common space!” Jack cried. “This is shared air! And you’re—she’s—you’re both indecent!”

You groaned, hiding your face in Luke’s shoulder. “Jack, go away.”

But Jack wasn’t done. Not even close.

“You’re six years older than him!” he said, pointing at you like you were an ancient forest witch. “He was in middle school when you were graduating college. He had braces!”

Luke muttered, “I didn’t have braces. You had.”

“Whatever! You looked like someone who needed braces!”

You could feel Luke’s chest shaking with silent laughter under you.

Jack took a dramatic step back, clutching his Gatorade tighter. “This is a betrayal. A full-blown betrayal. I trusted you,” he said to you, eyes narrowed in mock devastation. “I loved you. I thought you were cool. Wise. Slightly scary, but like, in a hot babysitter way. Not in a ‘let me seduce your sweet, innocent, hockey-playing little brother on his living room floor’ way!”

“I didn’t seduce him,” you muttered into Luke’s shoulder.

“You didn’t need to! You’re older! That’s your superpower!”

Luke finally looked up, bored but amused. “You done?”

“No,” Jack said, walking backward toward the door like he was backing away from a crime scene. “I’m going to go scream into the void. Then I’m gonna call Mom. Then I’m burning this rug.”

“I thought you said it was your favourite rug,” Luke called after him.

“It was! Until you defiled it with your... hormones!” Jack cried, disappearing down the hall. “I need bleach. For my eyes. For my soul.”

The door slammed behind him.

Silence.

You let out a strangled sound against Luke’s neck. “I actually might die.”

Luke tilted his head and smiled lazily. “You were very hot in that whole panic moment.”

You smacked his chest. “You’re a baby, apparently. I’ve corrupted you.”

“Good,” he murmured, nuzzling your jaw. “Keep doing it.”

Right Where It Started

“There is no greater glory than the love of a man for his wife.”

The apartment smelled like garlic, rosemary, and something sweet—maybe that wine reduction he’d been fussing over all day. You pushed the door open and kicked off your shoes with a tired sigh.

You’d spent the entire day at a charity event with the other WAGs. And while it hadn’t been terrible, it was exhausting. Smiling nonstop for cameras, making polite conversation with women who weren’t all that kind behind closed doors—it wore on you.

But then you looked up.

There he was, standing in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up, hair a mess, brow furrowed in concentration as he stirred something on the stove. He was biting his bottom lip, completely focused, completely unbothered.

And just like that, the tension slipped from your shoulders.

That’s what Luke did to you. Always had.

“Hey,” you said, voice soft.

He turned, a boyish grin spreading across his face. That same grin he gave you 2 years ago, when he was just this charming, overconfident hockey kid asking for a shot. “Perfect timing. Go sit. I made your favorite.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the occasion?”

Luke shrugged, casual. “You’ve had a long day. I missed you. I felt like spoiling my girl.”

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. That was just Luke—always showing up in quiet, thoughtful ways. Surprise takeout on your doorstep. Sticky notes tucked into your coat pocket. The night he drove four hours without a second thought, just to hold you while you cried.

He never asked for anything in return. He just loved you the way he knew how—steadily, wholeheartedly, without conditions.

He handed you a glass of wine and you let him pamper you, letting your guard down. Letting yourself feel safe. Loved.

Dinner was perfect. The pasta was creamy and rich, the salad actually crisp (a miracle when he was in charge), and the dessert—chocolate lava cake—almost made you cry. But it was the way he looked at you that made your heart ache in the best way possible. Like you were his entire world. Like he still couldn’t believe you were his.

You leaned back, full and warm. “You’re really trying to outdo yourself tonight.”

Luke smirked, his fingers fiddling with something under the table before he stood. “I’ve been planning this for a while.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “Planning what?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he moved toward the light switch, dimming the lights and lighting a few candles along the counter. A soft amber glow filled the room, casting long shadows on the walls and making the space feel cozy, intimate. The kitchen, usually filled with the hustle and bustle of cooking, now felt like a sanctuary. The scents of fresh herbs, wine, and the lingering sweetness of dessert mixed in the air. It was as though the world outside this room no longer existed.

Luke reached for the speaker, pressing play. The soft strum of guitar filled the space, and the familiar sound of Zach Bryan’s Sun to Me began to play.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. That song. The one he'd sent when you were apart because of his tight NHL schedule, telling you it reminded him of you. “Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.”

And that was Luke. He’d always done that for you.

He looked at you, his eyes soft yet playful. “This song… it still reminds me of you.”

A smile tugged at your lips, warmth blooming in your chest. “I know,” you replied quietly. “You’ve told me before.”

He stepped closer, his hand outstretched. “Come here.”

You paused for a moment before he gently helped you to your feet. It felt natural, like the two of you had been waiting for this moment. He pulled you into his arms, the music surrounding you.

His hands rested on your waist as he moved with you to the rhythm of the song. “Yeah, but I’ll never stop saying it. Because it’s true. You’ve always been the one to grow flowers in me, Y/N. Even when I was at my lowest, when I didn’t believe in myself, you did. You never let me fall apart. You always saw the good in me, even when I couldn’t see it.”

A quiet silence settled between you as he pulled you even closer. His fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending a shiver down your back. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The soft glow from the candles bathed the two of you in a golden light. The quiet hum of the song filled the room, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

You closed your eyes, letting the music wash over you. As the chorus played, you caught the lyrics again—“Find someone who grows flowers in the darkest parts of you.”

A tear slipped from the corner of your eye as you whispered, “You’ve always been that for me, too.”

He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I think that’s why I love this song so much. It’s like a reminder of us… of what we’ve built together.”

Your heart swelled as you smiled up at him. “Yeah, we’ve built a beautiful life together, haven’t we? I cherish the love we have, Luke. We really know how to support each other without losing ourselves in it.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips as he nodded. “Yes, we do. And you don’t know how grateful I am for you always being by my side—believing in me, loving me the way you do.”

You chuckled, resting your head back on his chest, inhaling deeply. His scent was soft and earthy, with a touch of sweetness. It was the kind of scent that wrapped around you like a gentle embrace, like home.

“I always believed in you, Lukey. And you make it so easy to do that.”

“Always,” he echoed softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. Then, a playful glint danced in his eyes as he pulled you even closer. “I love you so damn much, you know that?”

You nodded, your heart full as you placed your hand gently on his chest. “I love you more.”

He grinned, but his expression shifted, becoming more serious. The weight of the moment settled between you both, the warmth of the kitchen and the intimacy of the dance making everything feel timeless. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving my love for you Y/N. I promise you that.”

Before you could respond, he stepped back, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that you felt it in your bones. You blinked, confused, and then he dropped to one knee.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Luke…”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box. You gasped before he even opened it—because you knew that box. You’d seen it before. Years ago. After a sad day. When you almost walked away because the pressure got too much. And he’d stopped you, handed you that little box and just said,“I bought this after our first date.”

He opened it. The ring inside was simple, yet breathtaking, glowing softly in the warm light. It was the same ring he had shown you that day—back when you doubted whether you were enough for him.

You remembered how he had pulled you into his arms, his voice calm and unwavering as he promised that one day, he would marry you.

“You’ve been my everything since day one, Y/N,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “People said we wouldn’t make it. They said I was too young, that it’d never work. But you… you never let go of me. You showed me what real love is. You made me want to be better, to fight for this. To fight for us.”

He smiled—soft and sure, like he was holding every moment you’d shared right there in his chest.

“You’ve stood by me through everything—the pressure, the ups and downs of hockey. When it made me bitter, when it made me ugly… you were always there, patient, understanding. You helped me remember who I am beyond the game, and you never gave up on me, even when the world made it hard.”

He paused, eyes locked with yours, full of emotion.

“I promised you back then that I’d marry you someday. And now, in the same place where I first asked you to take a chance on me…I’m asking you to make me the luckiest man alive. Will you marry me and spend forever with me?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you choked out a laugh.

“Ohh Lukey….”

He grinned.

“Is that a yes, or…?”

“Of course I’ll marry you, Luke,” you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion. Gently, you cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing across his cheekbones as you caressed him softly. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch, and he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on the palm of your hand.

“I’m so grateful you never gave up on me, that you pushed me to take a chance on us, even when I hesitated. All those fears I had? They were nothing compared to the love and strength you’ve shown me. You’re the best man I’ve ever met, Luke Hughes. I’m so lucky to be yours.”

And just like that, the boy who once asked you to see past his age became the man you’d spend forever with.

[geeeemmmmmmm]

Asgardian liquor

A/N:Wow look who's finally returned, hoping to get out more writing soon aha! I'm a little rusty so as always sorry for any mistakes and enjoy!

Summary:Bucky thought he couldn't get drunk until you convince him to try Thor's asgardian liquor

WC:2.2k Warnings:Mentions of drinking/alcohol, fluff

Energy filled the room, the not so distant chattering and drinks clinging together overtook the once calm atmosphere of the bar as you and the rest of the team celebrated the return of Steve and Natasha from their month long mission in Korolyov. You and Bucky were sitting near the head of the table with Tony of course sitting at the head while Thor and Bruce were opposite you both with the others scattered around the other end of the table. You weren't having too many drinks on the account of helping Tony with a meeting in the morning and a hangover wasn't the thing you needed. "I'm gonna get another martini, do you want anything Buck?" you asked slowly peeling yourself away from his side "Thanks doll but I'm fine, nothing here could get me drunk anyway" he laughed reaching his hand out for yours before you could walk away "Didn't Thor bring some of Asgard's speciality drinks you should try one" you nodded towards Thor happily downing a pint as his laughter boomed across the bar, finally you slipped your hand out of his hold and made your way to the bartender. 

Keeping it simple you ordered an espresso martini hoping it won't keep you up all night. You leant against the bar gently nursing the drink in your hands just admiring your boyfriend laugh with his teammates as he sipped the drink Thor passed over to him. "He's head over heels with you, you know that right?" Steve told you as he snuck in beside you "Even in the 40s he was never this lovey dovey" he laughed again smiling while he reminisced about his old life. "I love him, it sounds so weird to say but i'm proud of him for coming this far you know" you replied turning your head to look at Steve "I get what you mean" he replied quietly taking a swig of the beer he had "The nights all about you and Nat! stop trying to move the focus off of it" you said happily feeling the buzz of the alcohol start to work its way around your body "Oh c'mon it was nothing special if anything it was Nat who did everything" Steve replied sheepishly. He never wanted to boast about his achievements but everyone knew he was very proud on the inside. 

The night flowed on gently with Steve standing next you making awkward small talk to the waitress - Bucky was right Steve has a knack for always being awkward trying to pick up girls. The stereo blared a beat that you know all too well, "Bennie and the Jets" by Elton John - it's yours and Natashas song ever since when you returned from your first mission you had accidentally blasted the song through the quinjet upon touchdown. Ever since then it's been an unspoken tradition with your best friend to dance whenever you both hear it, whether that be in the streets, in a bar or anywhere else where it's not a danger risk. Your feet moved before you could think as you ran over to meet Nat in the middle of the bar. The martini helped loosen up your dance moves as you both immediately burst into a fit of giggles while you swayed to the beat. No one in the team was watching you both, they'd seen it all before. "Much better than Barnes" Natasha said in between giggles, clearly she's had a couple too many as she twirled you around "Might need a dance battle to figure that one out" you almost crashed onto the table from a very sudden spin from Natasha. You shot your eyes over to Bucky who was making his way through the pint Thor had given to him but like a reflex his eyes found their way to yours. "No boys!" Nat groaned, pulling you back to the dance floor off the table "Just us!" you cheered, throwing your hands up. 

The song slowed down as did your energy, the martini you downed gave you a push to lead Natasha back to her seat with you next to her and Sam sitting opposite you both. "Nice moves ladies" Sam playfully made finger guns at you both with a wink "Should've joined in" Natasha joked nudging your shoulder "Next time then, you owe us" you exclaimed with a bright smile. "How's you and Bucky?" Sam chirped before he slammed a shot down his throat "Perfect" you hummed "You never gave me a chance" he jokingly whined "Your too good for her" Natasha replied joining in on the joke "Damn right you are Wilson" you said shaking your head. The banter between you three lightly progressed, with Sam and Natasha gulping down more shots making more mindless laughing fill the room.

After a while Bucky found his way back to you, wrapping his arms around your neck as he stood behind you "How was the specialty drink?" you asked tilting your head up against his chin "Mhmm s'real nice didn't make m'drunk though" he mumbled trying not to slur his words, looking down at you with a dopey grin sitting proudly on his face "Yea and Steve isn't Captain America" Sam cut in happily "don't'chu joke about Stevie" Bucky trying to be tough with a slur till very evident in his voice "Enough of that Buck" you joked hoping to bring his drunken attention back to you when you patted his chest. 

"M'girl I looove youuu" he hiccuped moving around you to sit down next to you "I love you more Bucky" you laughed watching him try keep his head upright "No I love m'girl more than you! she always take care of me and she sho pretty'n warm" he went silent for a second to pull you onto his lap. "see she so warm" he said proudly, grinning as he nuzzled his head into your hair. You were tightly held against your boyfriend with your legs dangling off of his. You looked over to Sam and Natasha who were about to fall off their seats laughing at the sight of Bucky Barnes, the winter soldier, the ruthless killing machine currently drunkenly mumbling into your hair while you leant against his chest. "don't laugh at m'girl she m'rock I just wanna keep you in m'arm foever" you stifled your laughter as he kept his arms wrapped around you peppering kisses onto the crown of your head. You just sighed smelling the strong scent of the Asgardian liquor in his breath.

This was a side no one had seen on Bucky so of course the team's attention found its way over to you and him. "Can I tell you a secret?" he slowly loosened his grip so you could look up at him. "Of course" you whispered looking into his glassy eyes "your m'fav'rite person more than Stevie" he whispered looking around after he said that like it was extremely classified information. "Can I tell you something?" you asked letting your laughter slip out "anything fo'mgirl" he replied happily letting his words become more incoherent by the second. "You're my favourite person too" your words immediately lit his face up even more "really?" he squeaked "Going supersonic on us super soldier?" Tony called out from back at the head of the table but Bucky ignored it, keeping his still dopey smile locked on you "you can't tell anyone m'kay?" you whispered happily wiggling your hands out to cup his face feeling his stubble lightly tickle your palms "scouts honour" he gushed pulling you back against his chest. The team kept their conversations with their eyes locked onto you both as they hid laughter whenever Bucky would blurt out something completely random while you talked. 

"Buck, can you take me back to the tower?" you asked looking up to give him puppy dog eyes. You could tell he wouldn't want to leave if you forced him but you know how he will do anything for you. "Of coursee" he mumbled, letting you stand up again. He stumbled while getting up and landed on you whispering some incoherent apology as he kissed your temple. "I'm gonna take - I mean we are heading out guys cya!" you called out to the rest of the table after quickly handing Natasha your card to shut off your tab at the end of the night. Bucky trailed slowly behind you trying to stumble over, clearly he has never been this intoxicated so you pulled back and wrapped your arm around him in hopes to stabilise him. The night air held a slight breeze when you both stepped outside to wait for a cab. Bucky happily stood next to you draping all of his drunken weight on you "Bloody hell your heavy Buck" you said trying not to collapse "Just making sure you don't disappear on me" Bucky said letting his words sound slightly sober.

You flicked your hand out to call the first cab you saw. "Can you still move Sgt?" you asked trying to burst into laughter at the sight of him about to fall over. You held onto his arm while you managed to swing the cab door open and usher him in. You slid in next to him giving the driver the tower's address and you could see the surprise in his eyes when he joined the dots. Bucky was completely out of it as he rested his head on your shoulder with his metal arm resting on your lap. You admired him like you were earlier in the night, his hair that was neat at the start of the night now disheveled and falling into his eyes with his eyes fluttering closed. You don't know how he still looks incredibly handsome but you just rested your head on his and moved your hand up to gently card through his irresistibly soft hair. Your touch was met with a sleepy groan as he nuzzled further into your shoulder - if he could be fused with you, he would be. 

The tower started to come into sight as you were about to wake Bucky up. "We're home baby" you whispered, holding his head up with your hand waiting for him to remember the night so far. His eyes looked confused as he glanced at you and the cab but he quickly remembered and nodded. You chucked some bills at the cabbie, not caring about change and started to help your boyfriend out. "M’Sleepy" he whispered, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes "Me too let's just get back into our room" you murmured back giving a wave to the security guard as you passed with a drunken super soldier holding onto you for dear life. The elevator doors clicked open as Bucky leant against it finally shifting his weight somewhere else. "Had a good night?" "The best with m'girl" he replied not caring about the slur in his voice, grabbing you into a hug. The doors gilded open at your floor, the warm lights illuminating his features letting you see how sleepy the super soldier really looked. 

"I meant what I said your m'favourite" Bucky whispered as you took his hand to lead him back to your room. "I mean what I said as well" turning your head back to give him a smile before you opened your door. "Thank you for taking care of me, I didn't think I was this drunk" he breathed out after you stepped inside "Anytime, I want you to have fun too" you said stepping in front of him to cup his face again. You were met with a big yawn as he leant into your palms "Think you need to sleep it off big guy" you drawled before waiting for him to nod in confirmation to help him out of his shirt. You carefully helped him kick off his boots and pants leaving him in some boxer shorts. You started to rush over to your dresser to get changed but Bucky held onto to you "Stayyy" he whined "I'm honestly just going to grab a sleep shirt like 1 metre away" you laughed dragging him alongside you. 

Quickly you changed out of the mini dress you had on and traded it for Bucky's red henley you had basically taken for yourself, some panties and your favourite fuzzy socks all while Bucky kept at least one hand on you the whole time. You led him over to your bathroom and brushed your teeth while he attempted to brush his, the asgardian liquor really hit him hard. In record time you climbed into bed opening the blankets for Bucky to quickly follow. Before you knew it he had yet again draped his weight on you like a human paperweight. His head cozily tucked against your collarbone letting his messy hair tickle your neck with his arms wrapped behind your waist letting his legs entangle with yours. "Thor didn't make you drunk huh?" you whispered into his hair resting your arms on his back. "Nuh uh just needed m'girl" he groaned, nipping at your neck, his voice muffled by your neck. Just before you were going to reply you heard soft snores come from him as he felt heavier on you.

Bucky was quick to show you his vulnerability and clinginess when you first started to become friends and begin dating over 2 years ago but you never thought you'd see what he showed you tonight. The comforting weight of Bucky resting on top of you and the rhythm of his heartbeat against yours quickly soothed you to sleep. You didn't care about the meeting tomorrow or anything for that matter. The only thing you wanted was to always be snuggled against your boyfriend, intoxicated or not.

A/N:I love me fics with shitfaced Bucky what can I sayyyy

[cheriedivine]

Deeply still in love

♡‧₊˚₊✧ pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem reader (No use of y/n)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ summary: Ellie Williams doesn’t do feelings. She buries them under alcohol, weed and strangers lips, but the moment she hears your voice again, everything she’s shoved down, claws its way back up.

♡‧₊˚₊✧ CW: References to substance abuse (weed, alcohol), Mild suggestive themes, Unrequited love, Swearing, emotional themes. (Lmk if i missed anything!)

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Tags: Angst/heartbreak, Ellies is a fuck boy, just pain tbh

♡‧₊˚₊✧ Author’s note: ok so this is my first time ever writing something for Ellie and it’s heavily based on Role Model’s song Deeply still in love bc i fucking love that song and I thought it would be a good angsty emotional one shot so yeah… hope u guys enjoy it and english is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes oki luv yall bye.

♡‧₊˚₊✧ WC: 3.6K

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧

“I think i still love you, deep down i know i never stopped loving you-“ Ellie scratched it out, watching the ink dry down on the page in her journal, the words of what she just wrote frozen on her mind, her breath was shallow, like she was afraid the air would judge her for it. She crossed the sentence out, one, two, three times until the paper on her journal ripped.

“Jesus Ellie, you might wanna breathe before your face starts turning purple- what’s up with that?”

Jesse interrupted her thoughts as he looked down at Ellie’s previously destroyed journal page, placing the two cups of coffee down at the table, the coffee shop they were at was cozy but drowned in people, making Ellie’s thoughts quieted down a bit as she closed the journal on her lap and took the hot cup of coffee “it’s nothing just… thoughts” she said while taking a sip of her coffee, the bitter taste burning her tongue

“Yeah well it looked like you were about to collapse or die” He flopped into the chair across from hers with a furrowed expression, “Anyway, maybe you should take your thinking somewhere else tonight and come with me and Dina to this party tonight” The black haired boy suggested, but Ellie wasn’t paying him much attention until she heard him clicking his fingers in front of her face “Hello earth to Ellie? Did you hear anything I said?” Ellie rolled her eyes, but if she was being honest her mind was wandering somewhere else, or on someone else “Sorry man im just not here today, what’s going on?” Jesse huffed getting annoyed by the girl’s lack of attention “You. Me. Dina. Party. Tonight?” He took the cup of coffee up to his mouth awaiting his friend’s response.

Ellie didn’t answer right away, tracing her finger on the rim of her cup, eyes fixed on the steam coming out of it like smoke signals no one else could read.

“Is ‘you know who’ going to be there?” the auburn haired girl finally responded, afraid but curious of what his response might be, her stomach twirled at the thought of you being there.

“Dude its been more than six months,” Jesse said with a tired tone. “You’ve hooked up with like three different girls since then, I thought you were over it”.

Ellie let out a short breath, bitter, like the coffee on her hands.

Over it.

Yeah sure. It’s been 8 months exactly since you broke up with Ellie, you didn’t exactly end up on bad terms, but it was like something was ripped off from her, a part of her was still waiting for you to come back, but how could she blame you for not to?. It was always like this, Ellie shut down when things got too real, she bottled up all these emotions and when the weight of it caught up to her it became too heavy to carry. You kept reaching for anything, like screaming to a wall, while she just kept pulling away, slowly and painfully. It wasn’t because she didn’t care, but because she cared too much. And that scared the shit out of her.

She hated talking about her feelings, she hated the vulnerability of it, the rawness, she hated being seen too clearly. But you- you saw her like no one else ever had, you saw her through like a window on a road trip, never scared of the road, never afraid of where it might take you, but she shut you down over and over, until you got tired of knocking on a door that would never fully open.

Ellie never blamed you for leaving, the look on your eye when the words slipped of your lips when you called it off still haunted her on her dreams till this day “I love you Ellie, but i can’t be the only one bleeding for us”

She just stood there, breathing through her nose, her heart pounding like a drum, she felt like it might rip out of her chest, and maybe it did because her words got caught up in her throat and tears started brewing in her emerald eyes when you left without slamming the door, that’s how she knew she really fucked up, that this was real, and you and her were done.

So yeah 8 painfully slow months have passed since that, and even though Ellie kissed strangers in bars, she closed her eyes with your name stuck behind teeth, going through bodies like maybe she could fit into a different pair of arms that could be warm enough to forget your face, your lips or the way your eyes would light up when you kissed her, but no stranger could ever replace that, replace you. It always came back to you. It didn’t matter how many mouths she kissed or how many bodies she explored, coming back to a cold bed made the emptiness crawl back like an old friend, and only made your absence more painful. But still she kept doing it, as if it were a miracle move-on-drug.

Ellie blinked out of the memory, the cup in her hands cold and long forgotten, she placed it back on the table before answering to her friend.

“Whatever man just text me the address and I might consider it” She thought the party wasn’t such a bad idea, she could have a couple drinks and hook up with some stranger she just met like she has been doing for the past months.

Jesse raised a brow, not buying into her sudden shift of tone. “That didn’t sound like a ‘fuck yeah I’m down for a party’. It sounded more like you’re planning to drink cheap booze until you forget your name and make out with someone you won’t remember the next day.”

The girl shrugged, “So what, none of your goddamn business”

Jesse stared at her for a second, like he wanted to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed them right up and sighed leaning back in his chair. “you do you, Ellie. Just… stop pretending it's helping.”

That definitely hit a nerve, but Ellie didn't flinch, nor said anything. He continued, a little softer this time, like a secret apology. “I'll text you the address. You don't have to come, but maybe you should. Think about it.”

With that the boy stood up grabbing his empty cup and left the coffee shop. An awkward silence filled the room, Ellie’s jaw tightened, at the end he was right, having sex with strangers wasnt exactly therapy but it got her through… in some fucked up way. Was it wrong? Maybe, Ellie never texted back any girl ever and just ghosted when she got what she needed. Toss and turn.

Later that day Ellie texted Jesse, briefly apologizing for being a dick to which he responded “When aren't you?.” Asshole. He sent her the address and by 9:30 Ellie was getting ready to leave. She stood in front of the mirror, jaw working as she tugged the black tank top over her head, the hem settling just above the waistband of her old patched up jeans, nothing very special- she didn't do special- hesitating on putting on a jacket or no, Jackson weather you never know. Her eyes lingered on her reflection for a little too long. The tank clung to her body in a familiar way. Safe. The jeans were her most reliable ones, just like her old converse she’d laced up so many times they were practically molded to her.

“Not a big deal, just another stupid party.” She ran her hands through her shaggy hair and decided she won’t put that much effort into it, bars are often dark so who cares- certainly not her. She took one last glance at the mirror before putting on Joel's old jacket and walking through the door of her apartment. The familiar weight of the jacket calmed her nerves a bit but not as much as the blunt in her fingers, she had stocked a few days ago, and a little pre game never fails to calm her down so she lit it up while waiting for Jesse and Dina to pull up the driveway. Jesse had offered to drive her to the party alongside Dina, even though Ellie had her own truck (an old ford truck inherited from Joel) he said it would be better if he was the assigned driver if they got a little too tipsy.

She often wondered how those too could stand each other for so long, when Ellie met Jesse at College he was already dating Dina and it’s been 4 years since then. They weren’t the perfect couple but surely knew how to get on each other's nerves, still always figured it out at the end. Ellie admired them for that and wished she was a little more like them.

Soon her thoughts dissolved into the crisp air of the night when Jesse pulled up on the driveway, he honked the horn as if the blinding lights didn't catch Ellie’s attention enough, “You are such an attention whore.” Ellie said, flicking the blunt away and stuffing her hands deep into the jacket pockets before entering the car.

The drive to the party was loud- music blasting, windows cracked, a new blunt being passed around like part of the ritual (courtesy of Ellie of course). It was their usual pregame, the kind that made her forget, even if just for a moment. With her friends, it was easy to laugh, to lean into the chaos and pretend the weight in her chest wasn’t still there. These were the moments that reminded Ellie not everything was awful. But the rush- the high, always felt like the drop of a roller coaster. And when Jesse finally parked the car, reality hit. Another night of pretending. Pretending nothing mattered, pretending the burn inside her wasn’t still there, quietly eating her alive.

“Don’t forget to rate me 5 stars and leave a tip” Jesse said jokingly, distracting Ellie from her self destructive thoughts”

Dina was the first one to enter the bar, the music almost deafening, the track was some popular song Ellie heard at the radio before, she didn't like it, but also didn’t exactly hate it. The place was packed as it usually is every Friday night, overflowing with bodies, laughter layering the loud music, and some good ol’ bar fight probably. Ellie trailed behind Jesse and Dina, already feeling the buzz fade into something heavier. She slipped her hands back into Joel’s jacket, like it would shield her from everything the weed could not.

They found a booth near the back, where the speakers didn’t rattle your bones quite as much. Dina, being the social butterfly she is, immediately recognized someone across the room, an old college classmate, but for Ellie it was one of those people who always remembers your face but not your name. Seconds later Jesse slid into the booth, scanning the bar like a minefield.

“Shot first, existential crisis later?” he offered, holding up two fingers to the bartender across the room.

Ellie nodded, managing a half-smile. “Make it three.”

As the night went on (and so did the shots) Ellie was sitting alone in the booth, Dina and Jesse long gone, probably dancing or making out somewhere in the dark, Ellie decided it was probably time for a smoke, to calm the headache she was starting to feel. She grabbed her jacket from her seat and made a beeline to the exit, the chill breeze of Jackson hitting her face like a slap she probably deserved.

Leaning against the crumbling brick wall outside the bar, the noise from inside was muffled out there. She pulled the blunt from her pocket, already half-rolled from earlier, and lit it with a practiced flick of her lighter, the smoke greeted her lungs like an old friend, welcoming the burn in her throat, grounding her a little as she exhaled through her nose. She took a second hit leaning her head against the wall, watching the people coming in and out of the bar, people watching was Ellie’s favorite activity while smoking, also because she could use it as an opportunity to check girls out, but that's when she saw you.

At least—she thought she did.

You were slipping through the bar’s entrance, swallowed up by a crowd of loud, laughing strangers. Just a flash of your face, the way your hair moved, throwing your head back laughing like someone who wasn’t her told the funniest joke of the world. Ellie blinked. Hard.

“No fucking way.” She cursed under her breath, squinting her eyes trying to steady herself. Was it the mix of weed and cheap alcohol in her system playing fucked up mind tricks on her? Either way, it didn't matter because she was already walking towards the crowd of people, like some magnetic force was pulling her in.

She pushed past two guys arguing about the cover charge. Her heart was thudding now—not like excitement. More like panic.

Inside, the lights hit her all wrong, too sharp, too bright. The music pulsed against her ribs. She scanned the crowd, pushing through, zeroing in on the back of that girl’s head.

Same jacket. Same posture. Same everything.

“Hey—” she started, grabbing the mysterious woman by the arm but when the girl turned around, it wasn’t you.

Of course it wasn’t you.

Her grip softened and she let go, the girl glared at her confused, and now Ellie could see, could really see that her eyes weren’t the same color as yours, her smile wasn’t as bright and welcoming as yours. And the worst part it’s not that she made a fool of herself, but that the girl was looking at her like she was a complete stranger. Which she was but to Ellie’s brain it just felt like she got hit by a thousand trains.

The brunette stepped back, the weight in her chest doubling. Her hands were shaking a little now, or maybe they always had been. She didn’t say anything. Just turned and pushed her way back outside.Too embarrassed to even apologize.

She felt like throwing up.

She found an empty corner right next to the bar, hunched over with her hands on her knees, breath coming sharp and uneven, gasping for air like she just ran a marathon. Her heart slammed heavily on her chest.

The cold didn’t even bother her this time. Her shaky hands reaching for her phone in the back pocket of her jeans, Her mind was fogged over, drifting somewhere else entirely. It was like she was watching herself from outside her own body.she didn’t know what she was doing just moving, automatic, like muscle memory took over, her fingers were clicking and swiping and then suddenly—

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was soft, confused.

Her head snapped up. She blinked at the screen in her hand.

Call in progress — You.

A beat of silence passed before she even realized what she’d done. Her breath hitched.

“…Shit.”

Your voice. Caught between sleepy and annoyed.

“Who’s this? Do you have any idea how late it is?”

Ellie’s breath hitched. For a second, she considered hanging up. Throwing the phone into the street. Pretending this never happened. But she wasn’t running this time.

“…It’s me.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Ellie.”

Silence. The kind that says everything and nothing at once.

“Ellie?”

Your voice softened. Then came the question she knew was coming—

“What– Why are you calling?”

She looked down at her converse, swallowing hard.

“I– I don't know I wasn't planning to, I'm just–” She tried to laugh it off. She couldn't believe this was happening.

“Are you drunk?” Your tone firm and dry

“I’m sorry i shouldn't have called , i dont know what the fuck im doing ok? I literally just called someone else your name. Just now.”

A shaky breath.

“Stupid, right?”

You didn't say anything, Ellies fingers tightened around the phone and your silence was enough to keep her bleeding. She was surprised that you hadn't hung up on her yet.

So Ellie kept talking.

“And I… I thought maybe if I just shoved it deep enough, it’d go away. Y’know? This—this fucking feeling. This ache that’s been stuck in me since you left. And I keep trying to bury it, like if I fake it hard enough, maybe it’ll stop hurting but it doesn’t. None of it works. Everything feels so…pointless. Like it doesn’t mean anything because… because there’s no you anymore.”

She breathes in sharp—like it physically hurts to say the next part.

“And burying it doesn’t fix shit. ‘Cause I still—”

A pause, her voice breaking on the edge. She didn't even realize tears had fallen down her freckled face. Savouring the salty drops as she opened her mouth.

“I still love you.”

There it was. She said it and she couldn't take it back anymore. It was real, and you were silent. Just like she had been when you were begging her to say something back then. Funny how life goes huh?

Silence. Again. you were completely frozen like you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. But your thoughts vanished when a female voice called you up.

“Who is it babe?”

Babe.

Ellie froze. Her stomach twisted, breath catching like it forgot how to move.

Babe.

You didn’t answer the girl right away. But you didn’t deny it, either.

Ellie bit her cheek until she tasted blood. The universe was getting a big fucking laugh out from her. There was a long pause. Too long.

You didn’t mean to let it stretch, but your breath caught somewhere in your throat, and the words wouldn’t come out right.

When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“…Ellie.”

She didn’t say anything. You could hear her breathing—shaky, uneven, like she was crying?

“You can’t say things like that. Not now.”

You sounded softer than you meant to. Not angry. Just… broken.

“It’s not fair.”

Another pause. You swallowed hard.

“I have to go– I'm sorry, you should go home and sober up and just forget about it ok? That this phone call ever happened at all.”

You hesitated, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your throat.

“Please.”

It came out barely audible. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

A silence lingered between you, thick with everything neither of you were saying.

“You don’t get to do this now, Ellie. Not after all the times I waited for you to mean it.”

Your voice cracked.

And before Ellie could speak—before she could take it back, or say she was sorry again—

“Goodbye Ellie”

You hung up. The line went dead.

She backed into the wall behind her sliding down until she was sitting on the cold concrete, knees pulled in tight, Joel’s jacket wrapped around her like it might protect her from this ache.

But it didn’t.

She let her head fall forward, resting it on her arms. The tears came slowly at first, stubborn like her. But once they started, they didn’t stop. Silent, messy, no control. Her shoulders shook, her breath catching in her throat like she couldn’t even cry right.

“Fuck this” She muttered.

You didn’t say you didn’t love her.

You said it was too late.

Somehow, that hurt worse.

The words echoed in her skull. She let out a choked laugh—bitter and hollow. She hated how much it still mattered. Hated that she called you. Hated herself for waiting this long to say it, for saying it now, when it meant nothing anymore.

She sat there until her fingers went numb, until the night felt like it was swallowing her whole.

Her phone kept ringing like crazy, probably a worried Dina or a very upset Jesse at the end of the line. She ignored it, because it wasn't you.

Eventually, she stood—slow, unsteady, like her body was made of glass. Her jacket hung heavy on her shoulders, soaked in the scent of cheap beer, smoke, and everything she didn’t want to feel. She made her way back inside of the bar, reckless and hurt, in search of a body that could keep her warm tonight, someone to blur the edges, to drown out the echo of your voice still ringing in her head.

Maybe, just for a second, it would feel like she wasn’t completely alone.

The music hit her like a wave—loud, chaotic, the kind of beat that made it easy to forget. She didn’t care who was watching, or that her eyes were red and her face puffy. She moved through the crowd like a ghost with a drink in hand, brushing past strangers until she locked eyes with someone—pretty, familiar enough, not you.

Never you.

“Hey,” she said, voice low and rough. “Buy you a drink?”

The girl smiled, said something back—Ellie didn’t really hear it.

Didn’t matter.

She just needed something to ease the pain.

Even if it was empty.

Even if it was fake.

Even if it hurt worse in the morning.

She leaned in, chasing a flame that would burn out, pretending it didn’t sting when it wasn’t your hands she felt.

Pretending she didn’t just shatter a little more when the girl kissed her and all she could think was—

You.

It was still you.

Always you.

୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧─── ⋆୨୧⋆ ───୨୧───

hope u guys liked it and lmk whatchu think, i’m open to suggestions and if u have any requests don’t hesitate to hmu <3!!!