#june is yellow again... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinofwriting · 6 months

Text

So Many Reasons - Ollie Bearman

Words: 3,343 Summary: She honestly just wants to go to these two races to see her brother so he won’t complain about never seeing her anymore that is it. She has exams, an internship, and a job, she doesn’t have time for any of this. Note(s): Thank you V once again for commissioning the fic! I had a lot of fun writing it and may or may not have spent an hour researching different business degrees and universities and such. Reader is Andrea Kimi Antonelli’s older sister. Age gap of 3 years between her and Ollie. Not good family dynamics between her and Kimi and their father.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Andrea, no.” Her voice is firm, perhaps harsh but she doesn’t care. She was tired, hungry, and had to stay up for at least another six hours. Her last red bull in her bag sounded better every second. “C’mon, sorella. It is my first F2 race. You can miss a few classes.” Her jaw clenches and she forces herself to take a deep breath. Thank god this was just a phone call. “No, Andrea. I can’t. I have exams.” “Ask for an extension.” “Andrea,” she snaps. “Does padre know you are asking me this?” His voice is quiet, “no.” She sighs, pushing away her work. “How is your school work going?” “It’s fine.” “And the sim?” “Good.”

It’s quiet between the two siblings.

“It’s been months since we last saw each other. Do you not miss me?” “We saw each other at Christmas.” She reminds him but softens. “Of course I do. But I’m busy. I can’t take a few days away to go to a race, at least not one that’s not in Europe.” She looks at her planner, at the days blocked out with different colors. Purple for exams, blue for classes, yellow for work, green for work and classes, the dreaded orange for when she had both exams and work. It was filled for days, weeks, and months. “I could maybe make it for Imola.” She’d have to talk to her professors, put in her time now for work, but she didn’t have any exams the day after his feature race. “Maybe even Monaco if you can get me a spare pass.” She shouldn’t go to Monaco, not with her final exams to obtain her MBA starting just the day after the race, but she didn’t have any work those days and she could always bring her books with her. “Really?” She smiles at the excitement in his voice. “Really. Are you sure you want your big sister around?” “Yes. It will be nice to have family in the paddock. Someone other than dad.” She hums, eyes widening as they catch the time. “Let me know about the passes for the different races, okay? As soon as you get them I’ll talk to my professors.” “I will.” “Bye Andrea.” “Bye.”

—

“Mr. Garcia?” She knocks on the door frame. “You asked to see me?” He smiles, beckoning her in. “Yes. Please sit.” He gestures at the chairs in front of his desk before quickly typing something. She sits down, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. “I wanted to talk to you about your plans after you get your MBA.” “I’d like to get a travel position or be able to work remotely half of the time. Then I think after ten years of doing that, I’d like to take a bigger account or two.” He hums, looking at her consideringly. “Why the travel position?” “I like traveling, going to different places, and when I went once before with Maria, I liked what she had to do.” “You're also good with languages.” “Yes.” “And the hybrid?” She fidgets a little. “The same reasons really as the travel position and I like the extended hours.” His lips twitch into a smile, “Maria hated remote.” She nods.

“She said you’d be suited for it.” Her leg that had started to bounce stops. He leans forward, “I’d like to keep you on. I know that your internship with Maria ends the first week of May. And that you’re only supposed to continue to work with us until August. But I’d like to offer you the remote position, starting June 20th.” She looks at him with a slight open mouth. “What,” she clears her throat. “What exactly would that look like?” He pushes forward a folder. “All of the details are in there, but there are two important things. There will only be a few days every month that require you in the office. Those days are always made known at least two weeks in advance, some as much as six months.” She nods. “The second is you will have strict deadlines. Miss two within a three month period and you will be on probation, meaning that for a time you will be spending at least eighty hours in office for the month, until your probation is up. Look over all the details and get back to me next week.” “Of course.” Taking the folder, she stares at it before standing. “Thank you, Mr. Garcia.” “Of course, Ms. Antonelli.”

—

“Andrea!” She calls, seeing him looking around. His head turns to look at her, a large grin taking over his face. “Sorella!” He calls, jogging over to her. “You made it.” She rolls her eyes, pushing him away when he tries to give her a hug. “I told you two weeks ago I’d make it to Imola. It’s not my fault, you don’t listen.” She touches her ears before giving him a quick hug. “How are you feeling?” “Good.” She hums, following him as he leads her to what she assumes is Prema’s space for this race.

The good was false that was more than clear to see, if she wasn’t his sister, she’d know just by looking at the F2 races so far. Round four with no podiums? Or pole position. Her brother was surely smarting. She wondered if it had hit him yet that he wasn’t the most talented driver in this series yet.

Entering the Prema garage she smiles when Rene immediately greets her.

“How are you?” “I’m good. Very good. How are you? How is Angelina?” “I am good, I’m sure you saw the Indycar news.” She nods, watching as Andrea starts talking to either a mechanic or an engineer. “I did. It sounds amazing.” “Very amazing. And Angelina, well,” He pauses, turning his head and calling her over.

“Oh, Y/N.” “Angelina.” She greets back, melting into the hug the older woman gives. “How are you doing?” “I’m doing good. And you are well?” “Of course, it is the season.” She smiles at her, knowing all too well how much everyone loved the motorsport season.

“Kimi!” Angelina calls and she has to stop herself from flinching at the use of his nickname. “You did not tell me that your sister was coming.” He shrugs, “She’s coming next race as well.” “You are coming to Monaco?” She shrugs, adjusting her purse. “It’s my last free time before my exams and Andrea asked when I was going to come.” Rene and Angelina share a look but before either can say anything, someone interrupts.

“Angelina, Dino and Antonio are wondering about the next shoot.” The older woman sighs, “And neither of them could get me themselves.” He shoots her a grin, and it’s the sight of his grin that makes her realize that this is Andrea’s teammate. “I volunteered.” Angelina shakes her head, muttering under her breath but leaves the small group.

“Ah, Ollie, this Y/N. Y/N, this is Ollie.” Rene introduces. She shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You as well. Are you new to the team?” “No.” She laughs, pulling her hand from his. “Just a guest for this race and next.” “Oh.” He looks at Rene questioningly, but the older man is already in conversation with other people. “I could give you a tour, if you’d like.” “You don’t need to do that.” He smiles, giving a small shrug with his shoulders. “I don’t mind.” “Don’t you have race prep?” She can see just behind him, Andrea talking to another two people, their heads all gathered around a tablet. “I finished mine already.” Her lips purse. “At least let me get you a coffee from Ferrari’s hospitality.” Her nose nearly wrinkles at the word coffee, but Ferrari… She wasn’t into motorsports by choice, but she was Italian. She knew the allure of Ferrari and more so now Charles Leclerc than the team itself better than anyone. “So, coffee?” He grins. She sighs but nods. “Just one though.” She doesn’t think she could stomach another one.

“You don’t like coffee do you?” He asks nearly twenty minutes later as she sips at the coffee he got her and she chooses not to think too hard about the money she tried to hand him that he refused. “No.” She laughs. “But you like Ferrari.” “I’m Italian, Ollie. I think I get kicked out of the country, especially this part if I don’t bleed rosso corsa.” “Yet your brother is a Mercedes junior.” She pauses, “My brother?” His eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry, it’s just Kimi, he has a picture of you. I asked about it once, because I already knew what his girlfriend looked like.” “I didn’t know that.” She wondered when the picture was from. Not from this Christmas, that was for sure. Ollie stares at her for a few seconds, something dancing in his eyes before turning the conversation back around. “It is a bit funny isn’t it? An Italian choosing Mercedes, while an Englishman chooses Ferrari.” “A second Charles Leclerc in the making.” She muses, remembering an article that said it. He flushes red. “I wouldn’t say that.” She shrugs, “Then other people will for you.”

Her phone buzzing makes her look away and she rolls her eyes at the text from Andrea. “I have to go back, Andrea is looking for me. Thank you for the coffee.” He nods, standing with her. “No problem.” He then opens his mouth again, quickly closing it. She raises an eyebrow and he flushes a bit more. “Could I get your number?” “Ah.” She glances down at her phone, another text on the screen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” She can think of a million reasons. “It’s just not a good idea.” She settles on. “What if I want it as a friend?” She sends him a look and he grins. “I could do friends.” She shakes her head, “I need to go. Thank you again.” “Anytime.”

—

“You're at a race.” “Padre.” She greets, watching the screens as the sprint race goes into its fifth lap. “Andrea asked me to come.” “You don’t like races.” Her lips thin. “No, I don’t. But he wanted to see me, I made time.” “Have you made time for the interview I want scheduled?” “No.” He starts to say her name and she shakes her head. “No, padre. I’m here for Andrea, to see him. Just like I will be for Monaco, that is it. I have no interest in working for you.” “For the family.” “Or that.” He sighs.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she winces at the way Andrea gets overtaken, can already imagine the way he’ll beat himself up over it if he doesn’t regain the position, especially with the way Ollie is in P2, no battle in sight, as he more than comfortably keeps the place.

An arm wraps around her shoulders and she easily goes into her fathers side. “I miss my little girl.” She bites back on the words that want to crawl from her throat. “Love you too.”

—

“So,” she startles at the sound of a voice and the owner of it grins. “You don’t like coffee.” “Hello, Ollie.” “Hi.” He greets back. “You don’t like coffee.” He repeats. “I don’t like coffee.” She can’t help but smile at the way he grins at her responding to him. “What about,” he pauses looking around, before leaning closer and lowering his voice. “Red bull?” “I’m listening.”

She has to stop herself from giggling as Ollie leads her through Ferrari’s garage. She really shouldn’t be here. And not just because she shouldn’t even be at the race.

Stopping in front of a door, she watches as Ollie knocks, sending her a grin as he does.

“Hello?” The voice is a little confused. “Ollie! Come in, come in.” And Ollie grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulls her into the room with him. “Hi Charles.” Her eyes widen at the name and she quickly schools her expression though neither are looking at her. “What are you doing here?” Ollie grins at the older man. “I wanted to introduce you to someone and raid your fridge.” Charles rolls his eyes. “At least you don’t ask permission anymore.”

The tease makes her stiffen, this was a lot more than she felt she should be seeing or hearing.

“No, I learned.” Ollie laughs and then he’s tugging her closer. “Charles, this is Y/N.” A bit of tension leaves her when he doesn’t say her last name. “Y/N, this is Charles.” “Bonjour.” She greets, keeping her free hand firmly by her side as she wiggles her fingers in Ollie’s hand, but he just brushes his thumb over her knuckles. Charles’ eyes brighten at the greeting. “Bonjour. Est-ce un accent italien que j'entends?” (“Hello. Is that an Italian accent I hear?”) “Oui. Je suis italienne et je vis actuellement en France.” (“Yes. I am Italian currently living in France.) His grin widens. “Oh, très bien. Votre français est bon.” (“Oh, very nice. Your French is good.”) She ducks her head. “Merci.” (“Thank you.”)

“I didn’t know you spoke French.” Ollie says. She gives him a look. It should make his smile falter a little, but it only grows. “An Italian living in France. A bit uncommon, no?” Charles asks, handing her then Ollie a Red Bull. Before grabbing one for himself. “I study there.” “What are you studying?” Ollie asks, “Ki,” he stops himself. “Andrea never said.” Her eyes narrow at the catch, wondering why exactly he did it. “Accounting. And I’m not surprised. If it’s not something racing related, my brother has no interest.” Charles laughs. “I think Lorenzo and you would get along well. Having siblings that live and breath racing while you don’t.” “Maybe.” “Are you close to getting your degree?” “I am actually. My final exams start Monday.” “And you came to the Monaco Grand Prix?” Charles’ eyes are wide. “Yes.” “My goodness.” He looks at Ollie, winking at him. “This one is a keeper.” “Oh,” she says, feeling blood rush to her cheeks and Ollie is turning pink. “We aren’t.” He shrugs, taking a drink of his red bull. “Maybe not yet.” His eyes then fall to their still intertwined fingers and she gives another tug to Ollie’s hand, expecting him now to let go, but he doesn’t. “No, not yet.”

—

“What race are you coming to next?” Her hand tingles at the sound of Ollie’s voice. “I’m not.” “What?” She turns to face him. “Andrea wanted me at the first race of the season, but I couldn’t make it, so I said I’d come to these two.” She doesn’t mention that the want of her coming was because he apparently missed her. She had her doubts about that, especially after this weekend. “You don’t think he’ll ask you to come again?” She looks around, seeing no one nearby, she sighs. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t come. I love my brother, but not on race weekends, not during the season. I’ve seen you more than him.” Ollie’s face that had looked shocked, turns to understanding. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” She shrugs. “He’s busy.” Ollie looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t.

Instead he leans a bit closer, “so, could I get your number now?” She laughs, shaking her head. “No. Still not happening.” “Oh, c’mon. I won today. This is the one thing I want as the Monaco F2 feature race winner.” She shakes her head. “Maybe, if you actually wanted it as a friend. I’d say yes.” “And why can’t we be more than friends?” He’s closer now somehow and she has to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Ollie,” Her name spills from his lips in a gentle sigh as he leans ever closer. “We can’t.” She whispers, hand against his chest, holding him place. “Why? Give me one good reason why.”

He’s guiding her backwards, down the short hallway and into a room that’s thankfully empty, the door shutting behind him.

“One good reason.” “You’re Andrea’s teammate.” “For nine more weekends.” She lets out a shaky breath, watching as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m busy with school and work.” “You have final exams this week, which you’ll pass. And I’m busy with work as well.” “You're younger than me. I’m twenty-two, you just turned nineteen.” He shrugs, her eyes following the strong line of shoulders with the movement. “I’m an adult. And I like you.” “Ollie.” She breathes. He’s closer than ever before, their lips nearly brushing. “I’m still waiting.” Her eyes scan his face, his words full of confidence, his body too, but he’s flushed and his nervousness is easy to read. And she delivers the reason that has to make him see reason. Because she doesn’t know if he stays this close to her if she can stop herself from kissing him. “Your parents,” his throat bobs. “Would never approve.” He looks at her and she looks back, holding her breath, waiting for him to back away but he doesn’t, and god when does Ollie ever do things she expects. “They don’t need to.” He whispers and then he’s kissing her.

—

“What are you talking about?” “Andrea,” “No.” He stops her, shaking her head. “What do you mean, you are seeing Oliver?” He spits the name out. “Don’t, Andrea.” “NO!” His face is red and she’s reminded of the times when he wanted candy that she had and threw a fit over not getting it instead. “He is, he is,” he shakes his head. “I don’t even know what he is. He is my teammate, he works in motorsports, you hate motorsports.” She keeps quiet, watching as her brother processes the news. “He is younger than you, barely older than me. And you.” He shakes his head again. “Does padre know?” She scoffs, now shaking her head. “Does padre know? That’s all you care about isn’t it. If our father approves or not, if you knows what he thinks, because heaven forbid Kimi,” he flinches at the name. “You think for yourself.” “That is not.” “Don’t.” She cuts him off. “Yes, he knows. Don’t worry he disapproves as well. So, you don’t have to think for yourself again.”

She stares at her younger brother, knowing that this is her fault, but she can’t, she still doesn’t have it in her to deal with it, not today. “I will talk to you sometime, Andrea.”

—

“Your fans are lovely.” Ollie makes a humming sound, half asleep. She pauses her scrolling on twitter, unable to stop herself from liking the picture of Charles’ dog in his own personal little car. “Your fans. Very creative as well. They can’t call me a gold digger, but a fame seeker? Well, if the shoe fits.” “They what?” He sounds so much more awake, it makes her laugh. “It’s just hate, Ollie. I’m an old woman praying on the young. Apparently I’m like Piquet.” “Ew.” And she can picture his nose wrinkling. “You know you aren’t though right?” “An old woman?” She jokes. “A predator.” She softens, turning in his arms, so that they are chest to chest. “I know.” “I mean, really if anything I was.” “You were very insistent.” He flushes. “Only a little.” She nods, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Only a little.”

“I know we talked about it before, but are you okay with everything?” “Yes. I mean, it hurts that Andrea is still not okay with it but my father’s opinion has not mattered to me in a long time. And no matter what the media and fans were never going to give us peace, so I made my peace with that as well. Besides, your parents are okay with it.” “They love you.” “Our friends are understanding.” “They are.” “And you aren’t about to dedicate any more podiums to me.” He grins at her and dread starts to form in her stomach. “Ollie…” “About that last one.” “Ollie!”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman imagine #f2 imagine #f2 x reader #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 imagine #sins fics

527 notes · View notes

hboww2rewatch · 6 months

Text

Welcome to HBO's WWII Fandom Rewatch!

You are cordially invited to join us in watching Band of Brothers, The Pacific, and Masters of the Air in chronological order April 29 - July 14, 2024.

We will be watching three episodes a week and will have prompts to boost fandom creation as we watch together!

You can find the episode schedule and prompts below the cut. Individual posts can be found here and here if you prefer shorter posts.

If you are unable to watch the show at the same time as the schedule, no worries. While we are personally planning to liveblog together the episodes per the schedule, we understand everyone has lives outside of tumblr. Watch whenever you are able - our goal is to bond over our love for these shows and experience them again together. Pop in when you are able! :)

Please tag all your posts during this event with #hboww2rewatch and give us a follow for all updates on the rewatch.

Please reblog this post to spread the word!

Schedule:

We are tentatively planning to watch Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays, but that is not set in stone - watch when you are able during the week!

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5

The Pacific E1 (Dec ‘41- Oct ‘42) The Pacific E2 (Oct ‘42) The Pacific E3 (Dec ‘42- Fall ‘43)

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12

Masters of the Air E1 (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E2 (Spring ‘43) Masters of the Air E3 (Aug ‘43)

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19

Masters of the Air E4 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E5 (Oct ‘43) Masters of the Air E6 (Oct ‘43)

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26

The Pacific E4 (Dec ‘43) Masters of the Air E7 (march ‘44) Band of Brothers E1 (June ‘44)

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2

Masters of the Air E8 (June ‘44) Band of Brothers E2 (June 6, ‘44) Band of Brothers E3 (June 7, ‘44)

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

The Pacific E5 (Sept ‘44) Band of Brothers E4 (Sept ‘44) The Pacific E6 (Sept-Oct ‘44)

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16

Band of Brothers E5 (Oct ‘44) The Pacific E7 (Oct-Dec ‘44) Band of Brothers E6 (Dec ‘44)

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23

Band of Brothers E7 (Jan ‘45) Band of Brothers E8 (Feb ‘45) The Pacific E8 (Feb ‘45)

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30

Band of Brothers E9 (April ‘45) The Pacific E9 (April-June ‘45) Masters of the Air E9 (Feb-June ‘45)

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7

Band of Brothers E10 (May-Aug ‘45) The Pacific E10 (Aug ‘45) Saving Private Ryan (Bonus event)

Week 11: Mon July 8- Sun July 14 - post rewatch events to encourage fellow fans!

Reblog people’s creations

Leave comments on fics

Consider making a new friend in someone else who participated

Prompts:

Week 1: Mon April 29- Sun May 5:

Heading Out

First Fight

Friends

Orange

Week 2: Mon May 6- Sun May 12:

Crash

Crew

Superstition

Blue

Week 3: Mon May 13- Sun May 19:

Dancing

Reunion

Kinship

Red

Week 4: Mon May 20- Sun May 26:

Recuperation

Camp Life

Training

Green

Week 5: Mon May 27- Sun June 2:

Tuskeegees

Parachute

Injured

Purple

Week 6: Mon June 3- Sun June 9

Reunited

Replacement

Airfield

White

Week 7: Mon June 10- Sun June 16:

Typewriter

Loss

Cold

Pink

Week 8: Mon June 17- Sun June 23:

Shelling

Translation

Wedding

Brown

Week 9: Mon June 24- Sun June 30:

Discovery

Humanity

Celebration

Yellow

Week 10: Mon July 1- Sun July 7:

Bonding

Adjustment

Sacrifice

Dress Uniform

Black

Week 11 Mon July 8- Sun July 14:

Favorite Crew

Favorite Company

Best Friendship

Humor

Underrated Character

Character + Quote

Headcanons

Crossover

Something Missing

449 notes · View notes

pahtoosh · 6 months

Text

baba face

[image ID: photos of sebastian stan, chris evans, and various stuffed animals photoshopped onto a yellow background. sebastian stan is holding a round wolf stuffed animal and looking into the distance. chris evans is hiding a smile with a hand over his mouth. the stuffed animals include four frowning stuffed animals and one smiling one. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~2400 words

warnings: reader takes a little tumble

a/n: this was inspired by @angelbaby-fics ! Chloe, thank you for showing me your turtle and inspiring this whole piece! (side note: if anyone would like to talk about their stuffies, I would LOVE to hear about them!!

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: sam gets a stuffed animal for reader that frowns like bucky! things get out of hand when the other avengers join in and buy reader way too many grumpy stuffies

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ

It all started when Sam came back from a mission in late June. The Avengers would sometimes bring back presents when they went overseas. They didn’t always have the time to stop by a gift shop but when they did, the gifts were always cherished and held a little closer when the Avenger eventually had to travel again.

Two weeks before his mission, you had gotten very close with Sam. Your daddies asked him to watch over you one day and he gave you a whole adventure. He took you to a pottery painting studio, then the park, and ended the day with the best ice cream you’ve ever had. From then on, you were inseparable.

During group meal times, you’d make jokes with him across the table. If you were allowed in the room for a meeting, you’d pass notes back and forth. Sam would also play with you during Tony’s summer parties; he was going to let you fly with redwing before Bucky marched outside and confined you to his hip for the rest of the night. You didn’t mind too much though, the sky probably wasn’t as comfortable as being held by Baba.

Your attachment to Sam made this mission all the more difficult for everyone involved. You, because you missed your friend. Sam, because he missed your happy giggles and felt bad for leaving you right when he finally gained your trust. And your daddies because they had to witness you get sad every time something reminded you of Sam.

Fortunately, the mission was going well and he was expected to return right on time. On his last day, Sam was looking both ways to cross the street when a stuffed animal in a display window caught his eye. He looked at his watch to see if he had enough time to make his flight, then quickly entered the store and bought the plushie because he knew you’d love it.

On the plane, Sam sat with the plushie in his lap to keep it safe. It was still in the bag from the store, looking like an oddly shaped lump in a now wrinkly paper bag. When Sam returned to the tower, Steve was the first to greet him before you nudged your Dada out of the way to give Sam a bone-crushing hug.

“I missed you, Sammy!”

“I missed you too, peanut.” He kneeled down and handed you the paper bag. “I gotcha something.”

You beamed at him. “Thank you! I love it!”

Sam laughed. “You haven’t even opened it yet!”

“I already know I’m gonna like it because it’s from you,” you said, matter of factly. “But okay.”

You opened the bag and gasped when you saw the plush.

It was a soft turtle with a slightly slouched posture, but that wasn’t the part you were focused on. Your favorite part was the plushie’s grumpy expression. It looked just like Bucky.

“HE HAS BABA FACE! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” You screamed your gratitude while running circles around the trio of Sam and your daddies. Sam and Steve were barely holding in their laughter, meanwhile Bucky stood confused, but happy that you were happy. Despite his super hearing, he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. Did you say baba face? Or maybe you said bubble face?

Bucky figured that this wasn’t something he needed the answers to immediately, so he didn’t ask any questions and resolved to watching you tire yourself out.

The grumpy turtle became your new shadow. Everywhere you went, so did the plush. You’d have it tucked under your arm while running through the compound. During mealtimes in your home, the turtle would get his own chair and toy food. Outside, you kept your turtle in a drawstring backpack with the head poking out so he could see the world too. When your daddies carried you around, you’d make a silly game out of making the turtle mess up your Dada’s hair or bite your Baba’s ears.

Even before giving you the turtle, Sam loved to boast about how he was your favorite Avenger(you didn’t have a favorite, but you didn’t have the heart to correct him on that when he kept giving you all of his attention). When you all played hide and seek, he bragged for three days straight about how you chose him to be your partner. Your attachment to the turtle only heightened his pride.

He always asked you where the turtle was, knowing it couldn’t be more than three feet away from you. Sam made a big fuss about the turtle having his own seat at the dinner table and fell victim to your strength and contagious giggles when you pushed him out of his seat to make room for your turtle. Sam learned his lesson that day and didn’t fight for the turtle to have his own chair in the debriefing room. However, he did bring in an extra stool for the plush. Sam even bought you the very drawstring backpack that allowed you to take your new friend on your outdoor adventures. In private, he’d ask you about how the turtle was settling into his new home and gave him the gentlest kiss when you said the turtle needed more lovin’.

The others all thought your friendship with Sam was adorable, but there was one person who saw this as an opportunity for some friendly competition. Natasha knew that there was room in your heart for more than one avenger bestie, so she devised a plan to take her spot. She had two missions in August–the first: survey a crime group that’s suspected to have ties with Zemo. The second: give you a gift worthy of four days of bragging.

After successful recon, Natasha’s plane landed in the Avenger’s HQ. She turned in her paperwork that she completed on the flight home, then went to freshen up so she could give you your gift. Natasha found you cuddled up with Steve in the movie room watching some old cartoon. She knocked on the door.

“Got any room for a couple more friends on that couch?”

“Natty, you’re back!” You untangled yourself from Steve and ran to give her a hug. You looked behind her expecting to see more of the group. “Where’s the other friends?”

She held up a bag with the arm that wasn’t hugging you. “Your new friend traveled a long way to get here.”

You squealed and hugged Natasha again before accepting the bag from her hand and kneeling on the floor to pull out the tissue paper and free your gift.

“You guys are spoiling them, you know that?” Steve asked, lightheartedly from the couch.

“Oh hush, how many hours of screen time have you given them today?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple times, not expecting the question.

“Doesn’t count if the movies came from your time, right?”

Any response from Steve was cut off by your cheering.

“BABA OCTOPUS!! BABATOPUS!!” you held up the plush proudly like it was Simba. “Dada, look!”

“Oh he’s beautiful, baby.” Steve chuckled at the round, bright red octopus plush with a deep frown on its face. “What do you say to Nat?”

“THANK YOU NAAAT!” you yelled. Excitement flickered across your face once more, then you ran out of the movie room with the octopus securely tucked under your arm.

“Where are you going, baby? And no running indoors!” Steve shouted as he chased after you.

You slowed for a bit, but kept moving at a swift pace. “I hav’ta show Baba my new friend!”

Natasha watched your little race from the movie room with an amused grin on her face. During dinner that night, she enjoyed the shocked look on Sam’s face when you pulled up with two grumpy plushies and pretended to feed the octopus before the turtle.

Sam turned to Natasha. “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”

She smirked. “And you have no idea what you’re getting into.”

Steve leaned over to whisper to Bucky. “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

The competition expanded beyond Natasha and Sam. All of the Avengers were determined to find the next grumpy plush to win your heart. There was a penguin from Peter, a frog from Thor, a cat from Tony, and a panda from Wanda. Your collection was starting to get out of control. You desperately wanted to carry all of your plushies everywhere with you to keep things fair, but your daddies put an end to that when you tripped on the sidewalk while trying to push a stroller full of scowling stuffed animals.

Bucky decided to help you create a system so you could fairly pick one plushie from the collection to carry around for the day. He made small slips of paper so you could write down their names and pull one out of a cup each morning. He brought his supplies to you while you were having an afternoon snack at the dining table. His heart broke seeing you with your knees bandaged up and the streaks of dried tears from the fall earlier today still on your face.

“Hi, Baba,” you sniffled.

“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on? You eatin’ your snack?”

“Mhm.”

“Why aren’t you eating at the kitchen island, baby? You always eat your snack there.”

You pouted and gestured to the plushies sitting around you. “I can’t fit all my friends there.”

“Oh I know, bubs. It must be so hard carrying all these guys around, huh?” He mentally scolded himself for leaving you alone during your snack. He should’ve known better than to expect you to stay put when your little friends were trapped inside the stroller. It must’ve taken so long to arrange the plushies around the table with your injury.

You perked up at his next words.

“Baba has something for you.” Bucky spread out the slips of paper on the table and placed a cup next to them. “You can write down the names of all your little friends on these papers and pick one name out of the cup to decide which one you’re walking around with for the day. Does that sound fair?”

You shrugged, “I guess I can do that.” You really would’ve liked a solution that allowed you to bring all of the grumpy plushies with you everywhere, but deep down you knew that it just wasn’t practical. You took the pencil that Bucky held out for you and started writing down your plushies’ names.

Your Baba lovingly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back while you wrote. He loved watching you focus on a task. He almost didn’t notice what you were writing down.

Bucky squinted then blinked a couple of times, not believing what he saw. “Baby, why are you writing ‘Baba’ on everything?”

You paused and tilted your head back to look at him. “That’s their names. Baba Turtle and Baba Cat and Baba Bear and Baba-”

“Why do you call them that?”

“‘Cause look!” You picked up the grumpy frog sitting next to you and held it out for Bucky to see. “They look like Baba!” You hugged the plushie before setting it back down to continue writing.

Bucky’s heart melted. His sweet, wonderful baby was so attached to these plushies that reminded them of him. His signature scowl that often got him into trouble brought them comfort. His friends even noticed and spoiled his baby rotten with even more of these toys.

Bucky continued watching you work. He looked at the plushies differently now.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

Steve and Bucky were cleaning your playroom. Normally this would be your responsibility, but you had gone to bed a little earlier, and they didn’t want you walking too much with your injury. Steve was putting your plushies into their designated bins. He wasn’t harsh with them, but his efficient method of gathering an armful and plopping them down certainly would have raised an eyebrow from you.

“Hey, go easy with turtle me,” Bucky teased.

“Turtle you?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded proudly, then held the plush up to his face. “Don’t you see the resemblance?”

“Whatever, punk. At least my face isn’t the reason we have a 50 gallon bin of stuffed animals.” Steve turned around and kept cleaning, completely missing the look of excitement on Bucky’s face.

The next day, your Baba volunteered to pick up breakfast while Steve helped you get ready. Bucky stopped by a toy store on his way to the bakery. He’d seen this particular plushie before and knew that this was the perfect moment to get it for you. Not too long later, he was entering your home with bagels in one hand and your new friend in the other.

Bucky hid the plush behind his back when he heard you and Steve walking towards him.

“Hi, Baba!”

“Good morning, baby.” Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead, then kissed Steve’s cheek as a thanks when he handed off the box of bagels.

You hugged Bucky and couldn’t help but notice that one of his hands wasn’t hugging you back.

“Baba, hug me better,” you whined.

Bucky laughed. “Hang on, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.”

You gasped in excitement and took a step back so you could see. Bucky revealed the plush with a dramatic flourish, then somewhat nervously waited for your reaction. The stuffed animal had you in shock. It was a stuffed giraffe that stood with the most perfect posture. It had spiky hair, blue eyes, and a charming smile. You knew exactly who it was supposed to resemble.

“IT'S DADA!” You squealed and graciously took the plush while running to the kitchen where Steve was. He was already making his way to you when he heard your scream.

“Dada’s right here, bubba. What’s going on?”

You held up the plush while doing a little dance. “Look! It’s a Dada giraffe!”

Steve laughed then ran a hand over his face when he made the connection. You ran off to your playroom, saying something about “finding a Baba for this Dada” while your daddies shared a look.

Bucky brought in Steve for a hug, patting his dumbfounded lover on the back. He playfully whispered in his ear, “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”

#stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #gn!little!reader #oneshot #fluff #sfw regression #agere fic #marvel agere #sfw agere #baba face #baba-face #toosh writes #plushie fic #stuffie fic

427 notes · View notes

11cupids-tarot11 · 5 months

Text

Pile 1 -> 3 🩷

Short random messages regarding love for you! 💓

Pile 1- the chariot, the star and seven of coins

For starters the star card is making me think you might already have a crush on this person or might know of them, take what resonates for you.

For others, I'm getting this person might just really admire you. I'm hearing they like you so much they're willing to basically cross seas for you.

This person is strong willed meaning when it comes to you nothing else matters in the world, I think they have their eyes on a prize and are very determined when they want something which would appear to be you lol

I think this person is already planning y'all future in their head, like they've really got everything figured out even how they want to approach you 😭 (that's cute lol)

I feel like this person just really wants to say you're all in their space and they're accepting it. Like they can't wait for the day you two come together (and get married I'm hearing for some 😉😜) but they're definitely planning on making their move soon!

Other messages- 1111 might be significant, you're hot, lots of dates in nature, can't wait to kiss you, I miss you already.

Pile 2- I FORGOT TO WRITE DOWN THE NAME OF THE CARDS BUT I WILL NOT FORGET NEXT TIME MY POOKIES 🤞🏾😜🩷

Okay, for this pile I'm picking up on a dynamic that's like light and day, one person in this connection is a bit colder, closed off and I feel like someone in this connection just refuses to give up.

I'm hearing 'let your doors down' and this person might feel very hurt that the other isn't open to the same emotion intimacy the other is into.

I'm seeing it might be best to take a break, maybe the relationship has gotten to a point neither of you had meant it to or you're just really disappointed by the outcome and they're clearly not up to your standards and it's not good to settle for less.

I'm seeing maybe some of us are trying a little too hard to hang onto this connection but we can't change nor fix something that's not broken.

I am seeing for some of you that removing your energy might actually make this person miss you, and if they love you enough they'll come around and compromise so the both of you can feel fulfilled and happy in the relationship and if they don't clearly they weren't the ones for you and that's okay, because you never know when the universe is going to throw someone new your way! This could be a blessing in disguise 🥸.

Other messages- 444 could be significant, the color red, maybe a red car? I have no idea what song this is but it's got something to do with driving?idk ur person is singing it 🤣 Maybe that's significant for someone out there?

Pile 3-

So for this pile I actually heard 'its time!" I think this pile is being called to awaken to something or for some of you a special someone? 🥹

Okay this message was a little harder to read but I think both ends have been stressing out over this? And it's kind of ridiculous because you're both literally good people according to spirit that would have a very beautiful relationship and would grow like a freaking fruit tree! I think spirit is saying since neither of you will make a move they'll be forced to push both of you using the universe- like magic almost I'm hearing.

This pile was shorter, and I'm also randomly hearing someone in this connection could be short lol? I think someone here might smile a lot too, I'm seeing smiley faces!

Other messages- the song 'Magic by txt', 12, 111, the color yellow and maybe the month of May- June might be significant for some of y'all?

Have a fantastic day! 🌹 See you all again soon! Hope you enjoyed 😊

Dm for personal readings!

#18+ tarot #tarot #tarot cards #tarot reading #pac tarot #pick a card #fs reading #fs tarot #love reading #spirituality #tarot messages #tarot love reading #pac love reading #Spotify

296 notes · View notes

pedrospatch · 2 years

Text

a safe haven l one

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: After the events in Salt Lake City, Joel and Ellie are back in Jackson, Wyoming to start a brand new life in the safe haven; Ellie has a difficult time fitting in and adjusting in the community, but she finds a friend in you; Joel meets you for the very first time and strange new feelings instantly take root.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. AGE GAP (no specific age is mentioned, but reader’s in her late 20s/early 30s and Joel is 56). reader is basically an OFC but story is written in reader format and her physical descriptions are kept as vague as possible. i have my own face claim for her, but i will only ever share it under cuts and with disclaimers. reader is married, Ellie plays a very important role in the series, hints at her strained relationship with Joel but this will indeed be a fix it fic because he deserves it, okay?

word count: 8.1k

Jackson, Wyoming | June, 2024

Joel’s deep, dark brown eyes linger on you from across the town mess hall with sheer, almost unabashed curiosity. Then again, he doesn’t even realize that he’s staring.

It’s about half past twelve, the designated lunch break hour in Jackson, and the larger scale eatery, which for the last couple of years has been run by an older man named Seth and his two surviving adult sons, is alive and well, buzzing loudly with obnoxious, overlapping chatter.

The hall is almost over maximum capacity, packed to the brim with several members of the steadily growing community who had stopped in for a quick bite to eat before having to resume their daily work duties around the settlement. Or at least, a majority of them had, anyway. Others shamelessly try to milk their lunch hour for all that it’s worth and more, dragging it out and extending their allotted free time for as long as they possibly can before having to return to their scheduled tasks around the commune. They float about the place, socializing as if the mess hall had suddenly turned into The Tipsy Bison, the bar right across the road that’s also owned by Seth.

Somehow, by a stroke of sheer good luck, you’d managed to find yourself a smaller, unoccupied table nestled against the wall, away from all the hustle and bustle. It’s tucked away over in the furthest corner of Jackson’s busy and bustling makeshift canteen, near where the aluminum double doors that lead back to the kitchens are propped wide open for the mess hall staff who were coming in and out to replenish the dishes at the buffet.

You’re sitting at the table alone, your plastic lunch tray surrounded by an absurd amount of open books that Joel had very little choice but to assume came from the town’s modest, but decent sized library that he’d seen nestled between the schoolhouse and the old church, right behind Main Street. In between delicate bites of oven baked chicken and roasted vegetables harvested fresh from the gardens, you reach up and take the blunt, worn yellow pencil that’s tucked in the space behind your ear, using it to scribble on the notepad in your lap before putting the pencil back in its designated place. Although you’re clearly working through your lunch break today, that doesn’t stop you from being interrupted on several different occasions by numerous individuals—friends and familiar faces all approach you with hopeful expressions, eager to join you and keep you company.

Sure, the hall is full, but there’s still a number of available seats still left at other partially occupied tables nearby, bigger tables that aren’t crowded with books like yours, tables whose occupants aren’t busy working, studying—doing whatever it is that you’re doing. It becomes apparent to Joel that you’re something of a hot commodity around here. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s just something about you that reminds him of the sweet and popular small town girl his favorite country artists would sing about back in the day. The kind of girl with a magnetic presence and irresistible charm—the kind of girl that anyone can fall head over heels in love with in one way or another.

There’s something almost too endearing about the gracious way you offer up just the most saccharine smile and apologetic doe eyes as you point to your books, politely declining every offer for companionship that comes your way, saying something he can imagine to be along the lines of, not today or maybe another time. Eventually, after a while, you’re finally left alone to bury yourself back into whatever it is that’s keeping you occupied that you can’t even have your midday meal in peace—you’re so engrossed in the task that you don’t even notice the older, salt and pepper haired newcomer who’s been blatantly staring at you from his table over on the opposite of the hall for the last several minutes.

It’s not the first time Joel’s seen you around.

He still vividly remembers the moment when he’d first laid eyes on you several months ago during the winter season.

It had been the morning after his fight with Ellie, after she’d confronted him and he had been forced to fess up about his plans to hand her off to his younger brother, Tommy—he’d asked him, pleaded with him, to get her to the Fireflies in Colorado. Joel’s mind had been in an all out raging war, his heart torn between doing what he’d felt was best for Ellie and what he truly wanted, which was to remain by her side and get her to where she needed to be himself. But how the fuck could he do that when all he’d managed to do in the few months prior to their arrival in Wyoming was fail to protect her over and over again? Sure, Ellie was a teenager, now closer to being an adult than anything else, but she was still a child, one who needed to be protected, kept safe. She needed somebody who could get to where she needed to be in one piece, and Joel had come to the conclusion that, as much as he wanted to be that person, he simply wasn’t capable. Slower, older, his hearing getting worse and worse as the days go by, he feared he’d only end up getting her killed if she continued on with him, a scenario he fucking refused to let happen at all costs. He wouldn’t hold another child’s dead body in his arms, not again.

Following a very long and sleepless night of tossing and turning, Joel had pulled himself out of bed just after sunrise that morning. After getting dressed, he’d quietly slipped out of the house and made his way down to the horse stables, hoping he could leave the commune as soon as possible and without notice from Tommy—and especially without notice from Ellie. It’s not that he had wanted to leave without saying goodbye to her, but Joel knew he wouldn’t have it in him to follow through with the decision he’d made about parting ways with her if he saw her face again, not a fucking chance. And so there he’d been, in one of the stalls at the stables, saddling up the horse he planned to steal and take off on when you’d walked by, flashing him a warm and friendly smile, probably assuming he was just another patrolman getting ready to head out for the morning shift.

Joel had just stared at you, lips pressed together into a tight, thin line with an emotionless expression on his hard, stony face.

Of course, you were nothing more than a complete stranger who didn’t have the slightest clue as to what was going through his mind. You couldn’t have possibly imagined what was happening to the tortured older man you’d just encountered, the way his inner turmoil was a single thought away from tearing him apart from the inside out. You’d probably just thought he was rude for not smiling back, or at the very least, offering you a courteous good morning.

He’d almost forgotten about you since then.

Almost.

It’d been rather difficult for him to forget all about the prettiest goddamn fucking face he’d ever seen since the world ended two decades ago—not even after all of the events that followed that fateful morning.

The next time Joel had seen you was on his second day back in Wyoming. He and Ellie had made a trip down to the produce market on Main Street to pick up some vegetables and jarred preserves to stock up the kitchen pantry of their new, forever home. He’d caught sight of you as you made your way down one of the aisles towards the sweet potato bins with a brown, woven basket hanging from one arm and a reusable shopping bag draped over the other. Before Joel even realized that he’d been staring, your kind gaze met his own from across the market and you smiled at him again.

Still just as warm, still just as friendly. And you were still just as fucking beautiful as he remembered.

Much like that winter morning in the horse stables, Joel didn’t smile back at you.

Two for fucking two—surely you must have thought he was a mannerless asshole at this point. He honestly wouldn’t blame you if you did. He’d think the same.

Tommy, who had made it back from leading his morning patrol group just in time to join him for lunch, waves a hand in front of Joel’s face, looking thoroughly amused. “Maybe we should find you a goddamn camera,” he teases, letting out a small chuckle once he’d finally managed to break the older Miller’s trance, garnering his attention. “Y’know, so you can take a picture. It’ll last a hell of a lot longer.”

Joel scowls at his brother, though he says nothing.

He can’t very well deny that he’d been caught openly gawking.

“Shut up, Tommy,” is all he can come up with before taking a large bite of seasoned carrots, heat flooding his face. The way Tommy’s looking at him, with that mischievous glimmer in his eyes, it reminds Joel of their younger years, when Tommy would make it his mission in life to do anything that would cause him discomfort just for his own kicks.

“Hey, I don’t really blame you, y’know.” Tommy reaches over for his glass of sweet iced tea and picks it up, taking a long and refreshing sip. Smacking his lips together, he casually shrugs his shoulders, shooting Joel a knowing smirk over the top the glass as he comments, “She’s certainly a sight for sore eyes, ain’t she, big brother?”

“Watch it. Don’t think Maria would appreciate you sayin’ that kinda thing ’bout another woman who ain’t her,” Joel warns, cocking an eyebrow at him. His brother hadn’t always been the most faithful of partners in his first life, but Tommy truly seemed to be head over heels in love with his wife. Hearing him talk about another woman makes Joel wonder if perhaps remnants of his playboy ways still lingered behind even after twenty years. With Maria having just found out she was expecting his child, Joel certainly hopes that isn’t the case. “Eyes to yourself, asshole.”

Tommy shrugs again. “Ain’t no real harm in just takin’ a quick peek every once in a while,” he muses, although there’s a joking edge to his tone. Setting his glass of iced tea back down onto the table in front of him, he leans back into his chair and glances over at you. He lets out a long, low whistle, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh trust me, I get it, Joel—hell, every man around here gets it, fuckin’ single or not. She’s a real fuckin’ beauty, she is. But I should probably go ahead and warn you now that it’s best you don’t go gettin’ any ideas when it comes to that one.”

Before Joel can even stop himself, he finds himself asking, “Why’s that?

“Well for starters, that girl’s damn near half your fuckin’ age, you old fucker.”

Joel flips him off.

“Besides that, she’s already spoken for.”

“She’s got a boyfriend.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“She’s got a husband,” Tommy corrects him. “She’s a married woman, Joel. And here’s the real fuckin’ kicker. She’s married to Jackson’s only doctor.”

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes. “A real doctor? Or just some fuckin’ clueless prick who claims to be a doctor?” he questions, shoving another forkful of his carrots into his mouth.

The younger man laughs at the bitter skepticism, knowing that it’d come from a place of envy more than anything. “Real, Joel. The guy’s around my age, give or take a couple years. He was finishin’ up his medical school residency when the outbreak first happened, at least that’s what Maria says,” he explains. He notices the confusion flash across Joel’s face and continues to elaborate. “Two of them go way back, went to the same college before she transferred out to another school for her law degree. Maria came across him and his group one day while out lookin’ for supplies. She said he still knew his stuff after all these years and decided to bring him in as the community’s physician. He looks after everyone around here. Delivers the babies, stitches up wounds. Hell, I broke my arm in a stupid ridin’ accident last summer and he set the bone right back into place, had me good as new within a few weeks. S’a miracle we’ve got someone like him around here.”

Joel glances down at his plate, twiddling his fork between his thumb and his index finger. He would have been a goddamn dirty liar if he’d said that finding out you were a married woman didn’t bother him.

And to a fucking hero doctor nonetheless.

That only makes it sting a little harder.

Tommy immediately picks up on his brother’s disappointment in hearing the news about you being taken and softly kicks his shin with the toe of his boot underneath the table. “Y’know Joel, there’s plenty of other single women around here. Pretty ones, and real nice, too,” he informs him with a small smile. He pauses and then offers, “If you’re interested, I could introduce you around. Maria has this friend, her name is Esther and she’s a real cute blonde—”

“That’s the last thing on my fuckin’ mind,” Joel grumbles out in reply. He tightly shakes his head. “I just fuckin’ got here, Tommy. Besides, I’ve got Ellie that I need to take care of. We’re both tryin’ to get used to this place after bein’ out there on the road for so long. We’re still in the middle of gettin’ ourselves settled. The kid’s my priority right now—my only fuckin’ priority. Not meetin’ someone.”

Not wanting to push him too far, Tommy goes along with the subject change. “Speakin’ of Ellie, how’s she been doin’ by the way? Haven’t really seen much of her since you two got back.”

Joel hesitates, momentarily unable to meet Tommy’s eyes.

It’d been a couple of weeks now since the events that took place back in Salt Lake City.

Since the hospital.

Since the Fireflies.

Joel had certainly thought once or twice about confiding in Tommy about what he had done. How he had ruthlessly and without a single ounce of mercy killed all of those people in the hospital, how he had shot Marlene dead at point blank range—how he had violently and single handedly stopped what had most likely been humanity’s only chance at potentially finding a cure for the cordyceps infection by preventing the Fireflies from operating on Ellie and performing a brain surgery that would have killed her.

Joel doesn’t regret it, nor does he regret the choice he’d made on Ellie’s behalf.

He would do it all over again in a fucking heartbeat if it came down to it.

He doesn’t carry guilt over having done what he’d done, but he does carry the guilt of having lied to her about it after it was all said and done. He felt awful for looking her in the eye and swearing to her that everything he’d said about the Fireflies was true when it wasn’t. Ellie claimed to believe him, but he knew better than that. She was smart, too fucking smart for her own good. She might not have known the extent of it all, but she knew for certain that Joel wasn’t being entirely forthright about what had gone down in Salt Lake City while she’d been unconscious.

From that moment on the mountain, things had been quite tense between them. That conversation instantly caused a rift in their relationship, but Joel could tell she was doing her very best to force herself to fully believe that he was still a person she could trust, a person she could put her faith in. He took an odd sense of comfort in knowing that her forced efforts to keep believing in him had to have meant something good.

She didn’t want to give up on him or on their relationship.

Joel exhales a heavy sigh, finally answering the question. “Not too great,” he admits, quietly. “I’m real worried ‘bout her, Tommy. It’s been a couple weeks now since we’ve been back and she still hasn’t made one single goddamn friend around here. She doesn’t fuckin’ talk to anyone, barely even talks to Maria.” He sighs again, tiredly rubbing the side of his face with his free hand. “She spends most of her time hidin’ out in the stables with the horses. She would rather be around them than other people. She can’t live the rest of her life like that. I try to tell her she needs to put in more effort on her part, but she won’t fuckin’ listen to me.”

“Just give her some more time, Joel. After everythin’ that poor kid’s been through in her life, it ain’t a big surprise that she’s strugglin’ a bit to fit in around here, y’know?” Tommy notices the way his older brother’s jaw clenches and he offers him a look of sympathy. “Look, I know Ellie means a whole lot to you and if I were you, I would be real worried ’bout her too. But just give her a little more time to adjust. She’ll get there, I know she fuckin’ will. She’s a real strong kid, big brother.”

“Yeah, I know she is,” Joel murmurs in agreement. “Hell of a lot stronger than someone her age should have to be.”

“She’ll be just fine,” Tommy reassures him. “She’ll find her place here, Joel. Just wait. You’ll see.”

“I sure as hell fuckin’ hope you’re right.”

You relish the feeling of warm sunlight hitting your face.

Summer’s just beginning in Wyoming, and after a particularly long, cold and cruel winter that swept the western state this last year, you couldn’t have been more thrilled to see that warmer weather is well on its way.

At least, for now you’re thrilled.

Winters in Jackson were god awful, but summers could be just as brutal, if not worse.

Clutching the strap of your old, but sturdy brown leather satchel bag securely over your shoulder, you hurriedly make your way across the settlement from the mess hall and back towards the horse stables, the place you commonly referred to as your second home—it wasn’t all that much of a joke, seeing as you often spent more time there than you didn’t. It’s now after lunch hour, and there’s still plenty of work to be done before the end of the day rolls around, most of it which would undoubtedly trickle into the next day.

Being the only veterinarian in the community, there was always more than plenty of work to be done every day. Too much work to be done by one single person alone. Often, you find yourself feeling quite overwhelmed by it all. You feel like you’re completely in over your head, and it leaves you wondering if you’d made the right decision by taking such an enormous responsibility into your hands.

Then again, it’s not like you’d been given much of a choice. In a way, it had been expected of you.

Prior to passing away from illness two summers ago, your father had been the veterinarian who looked after the animals. Even though you hadn’t been trained professionally like he had, your father decided to spend the final years of his life teaching you to the best of his ability and with what little resources he had available. After all, Jackson was going to need someone to step up and take care of the animals when he was gone—particularly the hoses. Even as his physical health worsened, he used every last ounce of strength he had left in him to prepare you to take over for him when he died. Thanks to him and all he’d done for you, you certainly knew a thing or two, but the job was still daunting, even after all this time of being in practice on your own without him there to guide you like before.

Keeping the horses healthy to begin with made your job a hell of a lot easier, but when a horse became sick or injured, that was when your knowledge and your skills were truly put to the test. Horses were how everyone traveled when in search of needed supplies, how patrolmen and women moved around while they were out and about on watch keeping the community safe against the infected and against raiders. Horses were one of the most important, most precious resources the commune possessed. They kept everything going, everyone moving, and you’d be fucking lying if you said that being the sole person in charge of caring for them didn’t put a tremendous amount of pressure on your shoulders.

Sensing your doubt, Maria Miller often assured you that you were the best person for the role—the only person for the role. “The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree,” she had complimented you over coffee at her place the morning after you had successfully removed a bullet lodged into the shoulder of one of the horses that had been injured while Tommy and his group were out on overnight patrol. They’d stumbled across violent and armed raiders, and luckily everyone had made it out unscathed with the exception of Tommy’s beloved black horse, Ranger. You recalled being pulled out of your bed in the middle of the night to tend to him, the first serious case you had to take care of without your father’s guidance. Thankfully, the stallion’s injury hadn’t been life threatening, and you were able to patch him up within the hour. After just a few weeks of working with Ranger and putting him through physical therapy, the horse made a full recovery and both Maria and Tommy couldn’t have been more thrilled with your work.

Still, you still continued questioning your own abilities, but it didn’t really matter in the end. Both Maria and Tommy decided to assign you as Jackson’s equine veterinarian, pulling you from your previous job, which had been helping Seth make sandwiches at The Tipsy Bison.

You rush into the stables, making a mental list with the names of all the horses that you still need to check over for the day, including the group of horses that had just arrived back from that morning’s patrol. You make your way down to the very last stall which is serving as home to a stunning, chestnut-brown pregnant mare.

“Hi there, Stella,” you coo sweetly, beaming at the beauty. “Hi, my gorgeous girl. How are you doing today, sweetie pie?”

“I would be doing a hell of a lot better if I could have one of those apples in your bag,” a voice answers, startling you slightly.

Peering around Stella’s body, you catch sight of Ellie laying down on a small bed of hay in the furthest corner of the stall. She’d made something of a pillow out of her backpack, kicking back as she flips through her favorite superhero comic book for what had to be the hundredth time. She offers you a silly, lopsided grin the minute she takes a glimpse at the baffled look on your face. “Howdy.”

“Ellie,” you sigh her name softly. “What in the world are you doing in here?”

“Living my best life,” she deadpans. “What else does it look like I’m doing?”

You try but mostly fail, in hiding your laughter at her quick witted sense of humor. “Ellie,” you say her name again. “You can’t just hide out in here with the horses every single day, you know,” you point out, dropping your heavy satchel bag onto the ground. Stella lowers her head and gives it a sniff, no doubt smelling those apples you always carried around with you.

“Wanna bet?” The teenager quips with a small joking smirk as she sits up, tossing her comic book to the side. Bits of hay stick out of her brown hair, which she always keeps tied back in a messy ponytail.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school with the other kids?”

She rolls her eyes. “I already went to school. Back in the Boston QZ. FEDRA’s finest, dude.”

You don’t know all that much about Ellie Williams—nor about the brooding older man that she’s here with, Joel Miller. The only thing you do know is that Joel happened to be Tommy Miller’s older brother and he acted as Ellie’s guardian. Initially, you’d thought he was her father, but Maria had told you that he had no familial relation to the girl, a fact that took you by complete surprise.

Their arrival in Jackson back during the winter season had the entire town talking—but by the following morning, the pair were gone, not to be seen again for several months until their return towards the end of spring just a couple of weeks ago. Rumors flew once the word of their return had gone around, but in reality, no one had the slightest clue about where they had gone or why they had left the safety of the commune’s walls in the first place. Not even Maria, who had failed in getting her husband to talk. She swore up and down Tommy knew something she didn’t, but he refused to spill his brother’s secrets, even to his own wife.

Like everyone else in the tight knit community, you were curious about Ellie, and you were especially curious about Joel. You’d seen him around a couple of times before, but hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet. Still, even without having spoken a single word to him, you already knew he wasn’t anything like Tommy, or anyone else you’ve ever encountered, really. A man of very few words, he kept to himself, just like Ellie did. Still, Joel knew he needed to find his place and pull his weight in Jackson just like everyone else, and once he began working patrol alongside Tommy, he finally began engaging with other members of the town.

Reluctantly so, but at the very least, he was trying.

Ellie, on the other hand, avoided everybody at all costs. Everybody, that is, except for you.

Since their arrival, Ellie chose to spend her days in the stables. She’d hang out with the horses while reading her comic books or listening to tapes on some old Walkman she had permanently borrowed from Tommy. Despite a hectic schedule that kept you busy, you eventually started taking the time out of your day to talk to her. It had started off with light chatter about the most trivial of things—how the day was going, whether or not the weather was nice outside, what had been served for lunch in the mess hall that afternoon. Ellie seemed almost annoyed with you at first, but after a couple of days, she’d quickly started warming up to you and by the end of the first week, she had started following you around the stables, joining you wherever you needed to be. The girl had taken a liking to you, but she was still quite guarded and careful, as if she were still testing the waters, figuring out whether or not you could be trusted.

You don’t mind that, though.

Little by little, simply by being kind to her and making the genuine effort to get to know her, you’re slowly beginning to chip away at her layers. There was still quite a long way to go if you ever wanted the teenager to completely open up to you, but you didn’t mind that either.

You’d be as patient with her as you needed to be.

You walk over to her. “Listen Ellie, as much as I really enjoy having you around me all the time, you really do need to make friends, you know.”

She blinks. “But you’re my friend.”

Even as you rephrase yourself, you can’t help but smile. “Friends your own age,” you remark, tucking the loose lock of your hair that had fallen loose from your dutch braid behind your ear. “You know, my husband, he has a niece named Dina. She’s about your age. I could introduce you to each other if you'd like?”

Ellie furiously shakes her head. “No.”

“Ellie—”

“Everyone around here looks at me like I’ve got two fucking heads or something. She probably fucking will too,” she mumbles. She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I’d have an easier time fitting in around here if I was a fucking clicker.”

Chuckling, you gently shake your head at her.

By now, you’d pretty much gotten used to her rich and colorful vocabulary.

You crouch down in front of her. “Look Ellie, I know how hard it is not to fit in with others.”

“You?” Ellie blows a loud raspberry in complete disbelief. “No fucking way. I don’t believe that for one fucking second, sweet cheeks.”

“Hey, in case you didn’t know this, I haven’t always been this age,” you remind her, lightly swatting at the side of her knee with your hand. “I was fifteen once too.”

“Yeah, and you were probably little miss fucking perfect, just like you are now.” She rolls her brown eyes at you in a teasing manner. “I bet everyone just loved you.”

You swat at her knee again. “Oh, stop that. That couldn’t be any further from the truth,” you reply, wondering where this child had come up with the idea that you are, or had ever been perfect. “I was still living in one of the quarantine zones with my family when I was your age, Ellie. We were living in the Alburquerque QZ for quite a while before it got overrun by the infected. They had schools and everything, just like in Boston. My mother was a nurse, so she had the privilege of enrolling me in one of their better schools, a preparatory school—she had the hope that I’d become an officer so I could have a chance at a decent life.” You pause, noticing a strange glimmer flash in the girl’s eyes, but when she says nothing, you continue on, “So I got the absolute pleasure of going to school with a bunch of kids whose parents were officers and important higher ups in the zone. And let me tell you something, the world may have gone to complete shit, but teenagers can still be fucking assholes.”

Ellie throws her head back and laughs loudly. “Whoa! I never thought I’d hear you curse. I thought you were too fucking prim and proper for that.”

“I’m not all that prim and proper,” you counter, grinning at the way she continues to cackle. “Besides, spending all this time with you might just have me cursing like a fucking sailor by the end of the week.”

“Fuck yeah it will,” she agrees with a nod.

You grin again, but when your eyes meet Ellie’s, it falters slightly.

Ellie hadn’t told you much of anything about her past, but one thing was for certain—the young girl had been through hell and back. You could see it written all over her face, even when she smiled and even when she laughed. The traces of terror, pain, and trauma were quite subtle, but they were very much present and in recent nights, you’d find yourself lying in bed, wide awake and wondering what all this poor child had gone through in her life. Thoughts about what Ellie had seen, what and who she had lost in this world haunted you.

She’s different.

What she’d been through made her different.

It set her apart from the other children, especially those who don’t know what it’s like to live a life outside these four walls.

It pained you to know that she felt ostracized when you were willing to bet your life that whatever had happened to her, it hadn’t been her fault.

Ellie Williams wasn’t your responsibility—you hardly know her. But you already care about her. An inexplicable soft spot for her had found its way into your heart from your very first interaction with her. If there’s anything you can do to help her ease into this new way of life, you’ll gladly do so without hesitation.

“So then,” Ellie finally says after a minute, looking up at you. “Is it, uh, is it alright if I keep coming to the stables to spend time with you and the horses?”

“Of course.” You rise to your feet and glance at Stella. “But only on one condition. You have to help me out with the grooming. I’ve been really short handed lately and could use the extra help. Deal?”

She jumps up to her feet, eagerly nodding her head. “Deal.”

Joel dumps his plastic tray and used dishware into the designated dirty dish bin before shoving his way through the doors of the mess hall. The air outside is still relatively cool, it’s crisp and fresh—but the temperatures are sure to get a hell of a lot warmer now that summer has officially arrived. Not that he minded.

He keeps his sights set straight ahead of him, doing his best to avoid eye contact with anyone who so much as even throws a glimpse in his direction.

People seem to be getting to him, but oftentimes, he still feels like a pariah. It’s almost like he’s some fucking feral stray cat that Jackson had adopted and taken into it’s home, willing to tame him, but still afraid that he could start tearing shit up at any given moment if they didn’t keep a close enough eye on him. He could handle that, though. It’s his Ellie he’s worried about. Between the survivor’s guilt she’d been dealing with on a daily basis and the way she was looked at in the community by everyone, Joel feared for her well being. He could only hope that Tommy was right about her just needing time and that eventually, she’ll find her place and he’ll have the chance to give her the most normal life possible under the circumstances.

It’s the very least Joel could do for her after all she’d been through in the last year—after what he’d done, how he had lied straight to her face. He fucking owed her that much.

Ellie deserved happiness, and he would do just about anything in his power to give it to her.

Joel arrives at the horse stables and makes his way inside. “Ellie?” He calls out her name. “Ellie? You in here?”

That’s when he hears her voice.

“Wait, what? Stella’s pregnant? I didn’t fucking know that!”

Rounding the corner into the very last stall, Joel sees Ellie standing there, her tiny little hand on the muzzle of a brown horse. In her opposite hand, she’s holding a mane brush. She isn’t alone.

He’s surprised to see you standing there beside her, your hands planted on your hips. You’re wearing a pair of well worn light wash blue jeans, the legs tucked into a pair of weathered black riding boots whose soles are completely caked with muck. Joel remembers you wearing an oversized, long sleeved red flannel shirt back in the mess hall, but it’s now off and tied around your waist, leaving you in a thin, cotton white tank top—the material fits snug on your frame, and Joel tries his hardest not to stare at the patch of bare skin that peeks between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your jeans.

Christ.

You’re even more beautiful up close.

Fuckin’ get a grip, Miller, he thinks silently to himself.

“She sure is,” you reply to her question with a wide grin. “We just found out about a week ago and believe she’s about a few weeks along. We’ll have a sweet new baby in a year.”

“What? No fucking way!” Ellie exclaims, looking thoroughly excited, but bewildered by the fact. “Horses are pregnant for a whole year? Holy shit man, that’s fucking nuts!”

“Well, for eleven months,” you clarify for her, giving Stella a gentle, but firm pat on her muscular neck. “This is Stella’s first one. We’re hoping for a smooth pregnancy that reaches full term, but sometimes babies decide to come a bit sooner than expected.”

Curiously, Joel’s lips part and his eyes widen slightly.

He can’t fucking believe it.

Ellie hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone in two weeks and yet here she is, engaging with you so easily and so effortlessly, cracking the first genuine smile he’d seen since they had fed that giraffe back in Salt Lake City. More than that, Ellie is being herself, cursing up a storm and all, and you don’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it, not like the other adults whose jaws would drop in utter horror at her use of such foul language.

Joel wills himself to move and steps inside of the stall. He lightly clears his throat. “Ellie.”

You and Ellie both turn around, glancing in his direction.

“Joel? What are you doing here?” she asks, her smile fading slightly.

“Lookin’ for you. It’s lunchtime. Y’need to go eat somethin’ kiddo.”

She holds up the brush in her hand. “But we were just about to—”

He stops her with a stern glare. “Lunch. Now. Go.”

“Fine,” Ellie huffs and rolls her eyes at him. Picking up her red and tan backpack from the ground, she hands you the mane brush and stomps out of the stall, roughly shoving into Joel’s shoulder as she pushes past him without another word.

Joel glances at you, a sudden wave of awkwardness washing over him. Just as he’s about to politely excuse himself and leave, you speak.

“You’re Tommy’s older brother, right? Joel?”

He nods. “Yeah. I am.”

Stepping away from Stella, you walk over to Joel and introduce yourself, extending a hand for him to shake.

Your name is as beautiful as you are and it sounds heavenly when he repeats it, rolling smoothly off his tongue. He takes your hand in his own and the contrast between the two is stark. Your hand is soft against his rough, small compared to his large, but somehow still an all too perfect fit.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Joel.” Your eyes find his, meeting them in a way that makes something inside of him that had been sleeping for decades now stir itself awake—it’s a feeling that’s too foreign for him to pinpoint.

Realizing he’s been holding onto your hand longer than necessary, he drops it and takes a step back, lightly bumping his back against the stall door. “I’m—uh, I’m real sorry ‘bout Ellie,” Joel apologizes to you after a minute. “I know she’s been spendin’ a lot of time in here. I hope she hasn’t been botherin’ you or gettin’ in the way of things. If she is, I’ll have a talk with her.”

“No, no. Of course not. She hasn’t been bothering me at all,” you quickly assure him without missing a beat. “I’m usually in here alone, so it’s actually been really nice having her around. I enjoy her company a lot.”

“You do?”

You toss him a puzzled, but amused look. “Is that so strange?”

Joel places his hands on his hips and leans back against the stall door. “Ellie’s been havin’ a little trouble,” he confesses. “Adjustin’ to life here and meetin’ people. She, uh—she ain’t like all the other kids around here, y’know?”

“I know.”

His eyebrows raise to his hairline—exactly how well had you and Ellie gotten to know each other already? What all had she told you? What did you know about her?

What did you know about him?

Joel tries to mask the concern on his face.

“I was just talking to her a little while ago. I told her I know how hard it is being a teenager and trying to fit it in with the crowd, even in a world like this one.” You let out a humorless laugh and shake your head, the ridiculousness of what you’d just said sounding sillier out loud than it had in your mind. “It’s even harder when you’re just so different.” You detect the way that your statement triggers something of a negative response from Joel—the way his eyes darken in a flash of anger and his nostrils flare slightly tell you he doesn’t take all too kindly to anyone talking negatively about his kid. Ellie being different is something that he already knows, of course, but hearing it from someone else isn’t easy for him, and it certainly isn’t welcome. It puts him right into protective mode and you don’t blame him, not in the slightest. You hold your hands up and reassure him, “There’s nothing wrong with being different, by the way.”

Joel sees the sincerity in your eyes that go hand in hand with your words and his defenses switch off almost as quickly as they’d switched on. “There isn’t,” he agrees with a careful nod of his head. “Nothin’ wrong with it at all.” He clears his throat. “M’sorry, I didn’t mean to—it’s just that I don’t really like it when people start runnin’ their mouths ‘bout my kid, that’s all.”

Waving a hand, you assure him, “No need to apologize at all, Joel.”

Little by little, he starts relaxing. Taut and tense muscles that have been wound up for years and years are suddenly beginning to loosen. All it’s taking is being in your presence and talking to you. Joel suddenly understands why Ellie’s taken such a quick liking to you.

You’re unlike anyone that either of them had ever met before. You’re bright and you bring about this warmth—a different kind of warmth Joel hadn’t felt in so fucking long. It feels like seeing the sun for the very first time after spending years and years trapped in a cold, cold darkness.

He glances around the stall. “So, uh—what’s the deal? You one of the stable hands around here or somethin’ like that?”

“Something like that,” you repeat after him, a tiny grin tugging at the corners of your mouth at the way he speaks with a heavy, but still incredibly charming Southern drawl. “I’m the veterinarian here in Jackson.”

He chuckles. “Y’mean, those still exist?”

“Sort of. My father used to be the veterinarian here,” you explain to him. “That was what he did for a living before the outbreak happened. We lived in New Mexico on a horse ranch when I was growing up—he started off as a stable hand and then he went back to school to become an equine veterinarian. When we got here a few years ago from one of the quarantine zones, he told Maria what he had done for a living before this and he was asked to care for the horses in exchange for our place here.”

“And you?” Joel can’t help but wonder out loud. You seem quite young, can’t be older than your late twenties or early thirties at most, which would still have made you a child when the outbreak happened. “No offense darlin’ but you seem a little bit too young to have gone to vet school before shit hit the fan.”

Darlin’.

He doesn’t mean to call you that. But it’s too late—and you don’t appear bothered by it.

Instead, you laugh, and the sound is like a gorgeous melody he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life if given the chance. “No, I definitely did not go to veterinary school. Actually, my dad taught me everything I know.” You speak fondly of him as you continue to say, “He educated me. Well, as best as he could considering the circumstances and all. He gave me a ton of books that I could read and study from, but most of it was hands-on training. He tried to teach me all that he could before he died a couple of years ago.”

Joel frowns. “Oh. Sorry to hear ‘bout your dad.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be sorry.”

He peers at you, wondering what had happened to him.

“He died of illness,” you tell him, as if having read his mind. “Cancer, we think it was, but we obviously can’t know for sure without proper testing. And before you say it again, you don’t have to be sorry.” You cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head at him as you change the subject and ask, “So, how are you settling in?”

“S’been alright, I reckon. Real different from what I’m used to—from what we’re both used to,” Joel answers, referring to Ellie.

“I can imagine it is. It took me a while to get used to this place when I first got here too. It’s such a different way of life, especially when you lived under FEDRA control for so long,” you empathize with him, sighing as you drop your arms back down at your sides. “You stay just a couple of houses down from Tommy and Maria, right?”

“Yeah, we’re two doors down in the brown and greenish lookin’ unit.”

“I’m in the light blue and white cottage right across from them,” you inform him, your pretty eyes twinkling as you give him a smile. “I guess that kind of makes us neighbors, doesn’t it?”

Joel’s stomach somersaults.

If you didn’t stop smiling at him like that, there was going to be a problem.

“It does,” he manages to say. Remembering Tommy’s warning from earlier, he decides it would be best for him to leave—and the quicker, the better because he’s beginning to notice how fucking easy it is to fall under your spell. He pushes himself away from the stall door. “I should probably get goin’ now. Got evenin’ patrol,” he says. “Listen, uh, I really appreciate you spendin’ time with Ellie and bein’ so kind to her. Thank you for that.” He gives you a small grateful nod and turns on the heel of his boot to leave the stall.

“Joel?”

He stops dead in his tracks, his back stiffening slightly.

The sound of your soft voice saying his name is sweet like pure, raw honey.

If he isn’t careful, he’ll become addicted to it—he fears he already is.

Swallowing harshly, Joel turns back around to face you. “Yeah?”

“We’re having this big get together tomorrow night in the barn that’s right across the way,” you say, jabbing a thumb over your shoulder. Through the small round window in the stall, he can see the very barn you’re talking about. “We do it every single year on the first day of summer. We do it for the kids more than anything, but everyone comes out.” There’s a subtle hint of shyness to your tone. “I’m not sure if Tommy or Maria have mentioned it to you yet, but there’s going to be a big barbecue, drinks, and even dancing. The whole nine yards.”

Joel has to bite back a small scoff of disbelief. “You serious?”

“Hey, the world might have ended, but people still know how to get down and party,” you joke. You observe the genuinely perplexed look that crosses his face and giggle. “I know it must sound really bizarre. But it’s a lot of fun and it’s a great way to really get to know the folks around here. I think it would be great if you and Ellie both came.”

“Ain’t too sure if it’d be Ellie’s thing. Or mine,” he admits, raking a hand nervously through his hair at the thought.

“You won’t know unless you give it a shot, Joel.” You gift him with another brilliant smile that just about makes his heart stop inside his chest. “Please?”

Joel hardly knows you.

Hell, up until five minutes ago, he hadn’t even known your fucking name—how is it possible that he can’t say no to you? A complete fucking stranger?

He thinks about it. He doesn’t like the idea of having to interact with anyone outside of his patrol duties, but if going to the damn thing means seeing you again, then he’s willing to at the very least give it a shot.

“Maybe we’ll both stop by for a bit and check it out,” he finally replies, exhaling a sigh of defeat.

“Great!” You beam happily. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Joel repeats, giving you one last nod before turning and leaving the stall.

As he leaves the stables and heads home, he can’t help the way the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards at the mere thought of seeing you tomorrow night.

Shit.

Yeah, he’s in fucking trouble.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller hbo #fic: a safe haven #fic: ash

3K notes · View notes

greencheekconure27 · 3 months

Text

3 notes · View notes

into-f0lkl0re · 3 months

Text

Paige bueckers x reader

warnings: nsfw and my horrendous spelling and grammar inaccuracies (my ap lang teacher would be so disappointed)

not spell checked (i typed this whole thing on my phone( yes i have a computer) )

i hope yall like it

~I don’t got a single problem with provocative~

she had on a mini black skirt with ripped shear tights and doc martins

a yellow lacy tube top with stars in orange and red thread embroidered through out the top little tattoos littered her arms. an outline of a moon on her shoulder. A bow on her upper left arm, a bouquet of flowers above her elbow on her right. tiny stars coated both of her forearms. she was perfect.

~See the bodies, how they burn, it’s just the way it is~

A couple of minutes ago paige was trying to come up with some sort of excuse to tell her teammates why she had to leave this random club but then she spotted her. dancing with who paige assumed were her friends. one hand held a clear plastic cup with translucent light green liquid with a salted rim. paige felt her cheeks heat up. was it always this hot in here? paige forgot why she wanted to leave in the first place.

~ Smoky, dark, crowded room, I need nothing Under pink light in June. I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden You saw me look at you~

The room was filled with intoxicated college students trying to have a night off from the stress of their lives. today had been the last day of finals. school was officially out for the summer. everyone presumably celebrating.

“you’re staring” a voice whispered in paige’s ear

paige jumped almost spilling her drink

nika laughed patting paige’s back

“you’ve been staring at that poor girl for almost 8 minutes”

“is it that obvious?”

“yes extremely” a new voice replies

paige looks down and sees kk laughing with ice

“keep looking at her with that face and your eyes are gonna get stuck like that”

“fuck off”

“oh shit, paige she’s looking at you”

Nika elbows paige’s side.

paige turns and makes eye contact with the golden girl herself

~I burn for you and you don’t even know my name. If you’d asked me to i’d give up everything~

Paige felt her chest contract as the girl leaves the dance floor walking past paige and making her way to the bar while briefly making eye contact again and smiling. once the girl was at the bar she looked back at paige and laughed.

“stop standing there gaping like a god damn fish and go over there dumb ass” ice pushed paige towards the bar

~To be close to you pull the trigger on the gun i have you when we met~

“i’m paige” she almost shouts because of the deafening volume of the music

“i know who you are. Im pretty sure everyone at uconn knows who you are” y/n laughs

“can i buy you a drink?”

“ you don’t even know my name and you’re trying to buy me a drink? you move fast”

“ well what’s your name?”

“y/n and i like dirty shirley’s”

~I wanna be close to you. break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight just let me be close to you~

“so what’s your major?”

“art history”

“oh what do you wanna do with that”

“i have no fucking clue”

paige laughs leaning her head against the bar holding her chest

“ok what about you? what’s your major?”

“uhm-human development and family sciences”

“ wow that sounds important. what do you want to do with that?”

paige lets out another laugh than sighs

“uh hopefully nothing i really wanna go pro”

“hey uh listen do you wanna maybe get out of here?”

“you read my mind”

~And now your mouth is moving, cinematic timing You pull me in and touch my neck, and now I'm dying~

barely making it through the threshold of paige’s apartment before her lips are on y/ns. tugging on her small tube top for dear life. paige blindly moves them towards her bedroom. they hit a couple walls on the way to their final destination. paige pushes her down on the bed before climbing over y/ns body and reconnecting their lips groaning into her mouth.

~You should be mine for life, I'll be signing

Every dotted line

Chemical override, ultraviolet

You could be mine tonight~

clothes long forgotten. two bodies grasping at each other letting out high pitched sighs and moans. paige’s hands are everywhere. groping her chest, paige slowly makes her way down y/ns body leaving a trail of love bites. taking her sweet time teasing, nipping and kissing at y/ns thighs.

“paige” y/n exhales

“say my name again” paige says again before sucking on her clit

“oh-god paige-please don’t stop”

“don’t worry ma i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

~ and i burn for you and you don’t even know my name

if you asked me to id give up everything to be close to you

break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight

just let me be~

this was not a request i just thought this would be fun because i have been listening to secret of us on repeat for the past 48 hours

i’m working on an actual request a kk arnold x reader fic which i’m excited for. that should be out soon. i also wanna do a kate martin fic inspired by risk. send requests my way and ideas🙏

big forehead kisses 💕

-faye

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fluff #uconn wbb #uconn wbb x reader #nika muhl #kk arnold #close to you #paige bueckers fanfiction

169 notes · View notes

westonspharmacyphotodept · 4 months

Text

Disposable Camera series, no.2: The Farm

What are the odds? It happened again!

Ellie chased down the boar into the abandoned gas station near Jackson. As it lays, wheezing and injured just out of sight, Ellie creeps through the darkness with rifle trained into the corner where the hurt animal sounds are originating from. Just then, a flash of yellow catches the corner of her eye. On the bottom shelf, an unused but usable Kodak disposable film camera sits on the shelf.

Same rules as before: a camera like this takes mostly bad pictures. And that's at the best of times. After 25 years gathering dust in an old gas station this thing can only barely function, and the film is highly degraded. We're including all 24 shots on the roll, including the duds.

The date in the corner is not canonical, it's based upon my best guess derived from the clues in the game. T-shirt weather in the Wyoming mountains doesn't begin until June (according to Wikipedia), though the nights can still be cold. Let me know if you have a better estimate.

Again, I hope you enjoy!

(Original game photography from The Last Of Us Part II by @westonspharmacyphotodept, created with all manual post-production using no presets, templates, stock or AI).

#photo mode #the last of us #game photography #virtual photography #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams #dina #film photography #film is not dead #expired film #disposable camera #wyoming

270 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 10 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 6 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, lots of fluff, Harris and Wayne making us all cry

WC: 1.3k

Divider credit to @saradika

June 1999

“Harris! Lunchtime!” you call out from the kitchen, balancing three plates in your hands, crunchy peanut butter and grape jelly slathered between WonderBread slices atop each one. A gourmet meal, Grandma would have teased, but she wouldn’t deny the simple deliciousness of a PB&J sandwich.

Eddie saunters in first, taking two of the plates from you and placing them on the dining room table. “Need me to grab anything else?” he asks, watching as you suck peanut butter residue off your thumb. “Like, maybe your boobs?” He grins, crossing his arms over his chest against a faded Corroded Coffin t-shirt.

You playfully roll your eyes, setting the last plate at your spot. “Could you slice up an apple for Harris? I’ll pour us some lemonade and then get his gift from our room.”

“Puttin’ me to work on Father’s Day weekend,” he grumbles, but the smirk curling his plush lips betrays him. He grabs a Red Delicious from the refrigerator and cuts it into eighths, careful not to nick his ringed fingers.

You pluck the gift bag from its hiding spot underneath your bed, re-fluffing the yellow tissue paper as though Harris will notice that it’s askew.

Eddie’s tongue swipes at the apple’s juices on his fingers and calls for your son once more. “Harris! If you don’t get your behind in here now, you won’t get your surprise!”

The TV clicks off instantly. “My surprise?” He races into the kitchen, stopping short and skidding in his socks to avoid colliding with the counter’s edge. “Where’s my surprise?”

“You can open it while you eat lunch,” you reason, swinging the bag between your pinched thumb and forefinger. Harris plops in his seat, takes an enormous bite of his sandwich, and holds out his hand for the present. You relent with a laugh, nerves buzzing as he tears into it.

Harris is momentarily confused when he pulls out a book, studying the cover intently. “The Berenstain Bears New Baby?” he asks quizzically, looking between you and Eddie for a clue.

“Why do you think we’d buy you a book about a new baby?” Eddie teases, trying to lead him to the answer.

You both watch as the proverbial gears turn in the boy’s head, his eyes widening when it clicks. “Am I getting a baby?” A squeal builds up in his throat, the excitement palpable.

“Mhm. In about five months, you, Harris Munson,” you tell him, poking his chest with your pointer finger, “are going to be a big brother.”

“Mommy’s growing the baby in her belly right now,” Eddie elaborates, beaming as the words resonate with him once again.

Harris leaps from his chair, bumping into the table and nearly toppling his glass of lemonade in the process, but he hardly notices. “We’re having a baby! We’re having a baby!” He cheers, waving the book high in the air. A slip of paper falls out, floating down to his feet.

“That’s my latest ultrasound. It shows what the baby looks like and how he or she is growing,” you explain as he picks it up from the floor.

He squints at it to make heads or tails of the grainy photos. “When do we know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“At my next appointment in about five weeks.”

He hums in acknowledgment, still focused on the sonogram. “It kinda just looks like a blob,” he says cautiously, as though breaking the news that the fetus in your womb is a gelatinous creature.

Eddie chuckles, kissing Harris’s wild curls. “Yeah, but it’ll look more like a baby soon, I promise.”

Harris exhales a relieved sigh, launching himself into your arms with a barrage of questions.

“What are we gonna name it?”

“Is it gonna sleep in my room?”

“Do I have to change its diapers?”

“Are you sure it’s gonna look like a baby?”

It’s your turn to laugh and ruffle his hair. “Slow down there, Har. We can talk about all of that stuff later. Right now,” you lower your voice but keep all of the exuberance, “we need you to do us a super special favor.”

“A super special favor?” His face lights up and he leans in to ensure he hears you correctly.

“Yup. Grampa Wayne still doesn’t know about the baby, and we were hoping you could make a Father’s Day card that helps us tell him.” You watch as he unlatches himself from around you and scampers off to find his art kit. “That was easy enough,” you say to your husband, who affirms this with a smile-laced kiss.

Eddie shrugs, wrapping his arms around your waist. “To be honest, I was expecting him to be even—”

“I’M GONNA BE A BIG BROTHER!” Harris’s ecstatic shriek interrupts him, compounded with the pounding of his feet as he jumps up and down.

“There it is.”

You all pile into the car the following afternoon to celebrate Father’s Day at Wayne’s trailer. Harris buckles himself into his booster seat, the homemade card clutched securely in his hand. Eddie rolls down the window, turning the crank until it’s halfway cracked, letting the warm June breeze tickle his face.

From the backseat, Harris whines, “Dad, be careful! I don’t want Grampa’s card to fly out the window.”

“Don’t worry; we’re not going fast. Just taking the backroads.”

He seems to be content with this promise, but you notice his grip tighten just a bit.

Wayne waits for your arrival, stubbing out his cigarette on the trailer steps as soon as he sees you pull in. His naturally stoic expression dissipates into a wide grin and he pushes himself to his feet, tugging on Harris’s door handle as soon as Eddie throws the car in park.

“Happy Father’s Day, Grampa!” Harris shouts, flinging his arms around him. Wayne reciprocates eagerly, holding his grandson in a loving embrace. “Look at your card!”

Eddie laughs, shaking his head in amusement as he stretches his legs out of the car. “Real subtle, Har.”

Wayne takes the piece of construction paper from Harris, retrieving his reading glasses from where they’re hanging out of his breast pocket and sliding them up the bridge of his nose. “Let me see here,” he muses, scanning the drawing in front of him. “A family portrait, huh? This is gonna go right on the fridge.” He starts back towards the front door, but Harris stops him.

“No, Grampa, look!” Harris impatiently points to where he’s drawn your prominently rounded abdomen, much more obvious than your actual burgeoning bump. “That’s Mommy.”

Wayne’s eyebrows raise, glancing between you and Eddie for confirmation before he says anything further.

“You’re gonna be a grandpa again, Old Man,” Eddie tells him, resting his hand on your stomach and rubbing it gently. “There’ll be another little mischief maker joining us in November.”

“You’re serious?” Wayne’s eyes mist over, visible even behind the lenses. When you nod, rife with emotion, he ambles over for a hug. “Oh, my word. Nearly got me blubberin’ over here.” He pulls back only to rest his glasses atop his head, wiping his tears with his shirt sleeve.

Harris tugs on his grandfather’s free hand. “Dad said you’re gonna change all the poopy diapers.” He giggles, exposing the gap where a tooth is newly missing after weeks of being wiggly.

“Is that so?” Wayne chuckles, looking directly at Eddie before bringing his attention back to Harris. “Well, I’ll tell ya what: I’ll change the baby’s diapers if Dad changes mine once I’m real old.”

Eddie tries to protest, but you cut him off. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

“Nope, no way” your husband argues, waving his arms in disgust, “I’m throwing you in a home the moment you can’t wipe your own–”

“Eddie!” you admonish before he can utter another word.

“I was gonna say ‘tush.’”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui #smut

406 notes · View notes

promptseverlark · 3 months

Text

TWHHA challenge Summer’24

“This Would Have Happened Anyway” Challenge for Summer ‘24

Katniss says it at the end of Mockingjay:

“But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real.”

So let’s explore “What ifs” and send your fics. The theme this time is DISTRICTS APART 🔥 and it can be Pre-Games or Post-Mockingjay… but it could also be pre or port catching fire

Pairing: Everlark

Type: Fan Fiction or Fan Art.

Words: Over 1000 words (drabbles, one shots or short multi chapter are welcome, we would like to have submission completed although it isn’t mandatory)

theme this time is DISTRICTS APART

Deadline:

1. You can confirm your to participation until June 23rd (in Tumblr, answering this post) and you will be granted access to the collection to submit your work.

2. You can submit your fics up to July 11th midnight (CET time!)

3. Collection will be live July 13th 2024 as anonymous

4. Writers will be revealed July 20th

@thgcommentfeast

#twhha challenge summer 24

180 notes · View notes

meazalykov · 4 months

Text

avoidance

lena oberdorf (romantic) x lea schūller (platonic) x reader

warnings: angst (but there's a hopeful ending)

the crisp air of the training center fills your lungs as you take in the familiar sight of the pitch for the first time since june. its now august and since you’ve won silver in the olympics last month for your country, you’re feeling confident about coming back onto the pitch.

you've been a striker for bayern munich since 2022, and with ewa’s recent departure from wolfsburg to barcelona, you're now recognized as the best forward in the Bundesliga. your teammates look up to you and respect you as much as you love and respect them .

today is different, though. you’ve been through the new season routine once so far, so this is the second. there are new faces joining the team, and this is where you’re the most tense. you love to welcome new players onto the team, but your social anxiety makes you overthink every little detail.

one person who's joining bayern stands out in particular: lena oberdorf, the talented midfielder whos coming from wolfsburg. you know lena well from her reputation on the field, and the amount of times she nearly broke your ankles on the field— which lead to you yelling at her angrily— but she’s also well-acquainted with most of your teammates from the german national team. so, you hope that you guys can start off on a nice path.

you walk out from the dressing room onto the grassy pitch to see most of your teammates gathered around lena, whos dressed in the red training kits— odd. you’re used to seeing the taller girl in green. however, you push that thought to the back of your mind as you approach lena and the rest of the group, offering a warm smile as the group acknowledges your presence.

“sorry i’m late, what's going onnnn?” you speak up. at first, you look over to one of your closest friend at bayern, lea. you cross your arms in a natural stance as some of the other girls are relieved at seeing you, wondering if you’d be late.

“oh nothing much. we have some fresh meat on the team though–” lea says as she lightly punches lena on the shoulders, the ex-wolfsburg player punches her back. this caused a giggle to come out of you awkwardly, as you didn’t introduce yourself to her yet.

“hey! i’m y/n” you smile as you reach your arms out to hug lena. she smirks at you as you both share an embrace. you felt warm in her arms and she smelled good, like a nice scent of coconut.

“oh i know you– i’m lena.” she says before pulling away from the hug, which you do the same. all of the other girls have their eyebrows knitted with curious looks as they’re noticing your interactions.

“welcome to bayern– i’m sorry for the amount of times i’ve started fights with you on the pitch.” you cross your arms again. lena and you laughed at the old memories.

in one particular game last season— you went to shoot the ball into the goal before you felt a cleat smack into your left ankle. the same left ankle you’ve sprained during international break months before the incident. you fell to the ground in anger, not because of the missed goal but your fear towards a possible ankle injury. after figuring out– from the absence of pain– that you were okay, you stood up and confronted lena in her face.

the ref already gave her a yellow card for side tackling your body— but you felt as if you needed to get words in yourself. your teammates pulled you back– with sydney reminding you that everything is alright– but you were still angry. sometimes lena had provoked you in other games against wolfsburg, which made it worse.

that's why your bayern teammates look at you guys in shock, noticing that there is an instant connection between the two of you. none of them expected this. some expected the air to be filled with awkwardness as you arrived, standing just 2 feet beside lena.

“its all good– theres no worries.” lena says, even though she is aware that she started some of the fights between you guys too.

over time, the simple interactions turned into something more.

during training, lena’s looks towards you lingered for longer than it had to. she’s found you attractive since the first time you guys clashed together, sometimes provoking you so you’d give her more (individual) attention, but now you are both on the same team.

during the first game against juventus, you scored from outside the box which excited the crowd and your teammates. after running towards the corner with your arms out wide– in your typical celebration— you turned around and noticed that lena is the first one on your arms. you hugged her tightly and put your head on her shoulders as the other girls circled around to congratulate you.

after the game, you asked lena if she wanted to grab coffee the morning after. at first, you thought about inviting her to your apartment to watch a movie– which is what you always do to wind down after a game and taking a long shower after– but you figured that taking her to your apartment might imply something different. so, you went with something easier.

the coffee dat- hang out lasted for about four hours. lena and you talking to each other felt natural, and easy. lena's presence becomes a comforting part of your routine overtime, and soon, she's more than just the wolfsburg player you had tension with– now she's a teammate; and a friend.

one evening, after a recovery session, you both decide to grab dinner at a nearby café in munich. you introduced lena to this cafe, which is funny because she's the german one and not you. the conversation flows effortlessly, as per usual.

"you know, i was nervous about joining bayern due to the amount of hate i received," lena admits, taking a sip of her drink. "but you guys made the process so easy."

"i’m glad that you’re here lena," you reply, sincerity in your voice.

however, the bond between lena and you doesn’t go unnoticed with the team. georgia and sydney, pull you aside one december afternoon in the locker room. they had enough with you ditching their weekly plans to go spend time with lena instead.

their expressions are serious, tinged with concern. this scared you at first because you’ve never seen them in this way.

"y/n, listen," georgia starts, her eyes searching yours as you looked at her with nervousness. "you’re ditching us for lena because we think you have feelings for her."

the words hit you. internally, you start to panic. it's true, of course. you've known for a while now, but admitting it to others, and even to yourself, has been a struggle. your last relationship was an abusive nightmare. this causes you to shut yourself out and build walls around your heart.

vulnerability is a luxury you can't afford, not after everything you've been through.

"ha-ha.. you're imagining things," you deflect, trying to sound casual. "lena and I are just friends."

sydney crosses her arms, giving you a knowing look as her eyes widened. "don’t lie! we see the way you look at her. it's okay to have feelings, you know."

you swallow hard, your mind racing. "i don’t–ugh– i just can’t, guys. I just... I can't go through that again." you stutter, not knowing what to say exactly. you hoped that nobody would confront you on this.

"you can't let what happened with that ex of yours control you," georgia says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "lena's different. she would never do that to you– i’d kill her if she did– we all know that you’d treat each other so good."

after that conversation in the dressing room– you start to distance yourself from lena–withdrawing into the mental shell you've built for self-preservation.

at first, lena seems confused, her attempts to reach out to you becoming more frequent and insistent. at first, she thought you were sick. until she noticed that you’d go hang out with other players on the team– like sydney, georgia, ana, and giulia.

"y/n, what's going on?" lena asks you one day at practice, her voice a mixture of concern and frustration. it was the last training before the quarterfinals of the champion’s league against PSG, which was the topic on everyone's minds lately– except for lena and y/n’s of course.

"did I do something wrong?"

you shake your head, avoiding her gaze as you bury yourself into the red puffer jacket provided by the club. "no, lena, it's not you. I just– I just need some space."

"space?" she echoes, hurt flashing in her eyes as she knitted her eyebrows. "we were fine, and now you're shutting me out. why?"

you can't bring yourself to answer, so you walk away towards most of the team who is ready to train– you left her standing there, looking lost and confused.

as the days pass, her confusion turns to hurt. you can see it in her eyes, in the way her smile doesn’t reach them anymore, and it tears you apart. you put on a great poker face, going through practices and scoring twice in the second-leg quarterfinal game– giving bayern the ticket to go to the semi-finals– but in your apartment you were heartbroken. the way your face would be burying into your couch pillow as you frowned with a tear coming out of your eye– you wished that being vulnerable– in love and happy– would be much easier.

your teammates notice the growing rift. the atmosphere in the locker room becomes tense. eventually, an international break happens and you left to play for your country.

during this time period, lena opened up to the german bayern teammates about her feelings towards you. she fell in love with you over the last six months– but she didn’t understand why you pulled away. it was harsh.

some of the girls on the team were upset, they knew why you were pulling yourself away from lena.

finally, lea confronts you at your apartment on the first day you’re back in munich. you open up the door to see the look of frustration and anger on her face. you have never seen the calm woman so upset.

you came back from a win in the gold cup tournament with your national team so your spirits were high, but lea might have you come back to your reality in germany.

"y/n, whatever you’re trying to do– you need to stop it!” she snaps. you’re frozen as lea comes into your apartment without the need for invitation.

you find the movement to shut your door before following lea into your living room. she stands right by your couch as you stand awkwardly 5 feet away with your hands shaky by your side.

“what?” you mumbled.

“you’re hurting lena with your avoidance and its pissing me off!" she snaps again, her eyes blazing. "you caught feelings for her and you’re scarred– rightfully so– but there's a limit with leading her on just for you to pull away.”

“i’m sorry-.” you mumbled again, tears filling your eyes.

“no! stop letting your past control you. you're sabotaging yourself and it’s affecting everyone."

"lea, you don't understand," you begin to speak, but she cuts you off again.

"no, YOU don't understand," she retorts. "we all know about your past, lena does now too– and you didn’t deserve any of that– but lena is not your ex. she's in love with you y/n! she's not going to hurt you like that. you're pushing her away for no reason."

her words are harsh, but they strike a chord. lea's right, and you know it. the fear of getting hurt again has been holding you back, but in pushing Lena away, you’re only hurting yourself more. you stand there as tears pour down your cheeks. you didn’t bother wiping them, ashamed at what you thought was a safe option, but it was stupid.

lea walks up to you and wipes your tears off of your face- you flinch– but eventually she hugs you as you let the rest of your tears flow.

“i am not mad at you y/n, none of us are. we just need you to make the right decision.” lea calmly speaks. she finger-brushes your hair as you relax into the warm of your friend.

“i love lena, lea, so much.” you say your thoughts out loud.

“we know.” lea replies.

“you need to make things right though. things aren’t over between you both. please let lena in, let you two feel the love that you both deserve.” lea continues as you mentally start to open yourself up again.

the next practice– you start to reach out to lena again, trying to rebuild the bridge you nearly burned.

remembering how lena loved your protein brownies one time back in january– you made a big patch and gave the full pan for her to keep. there was a note inside of the tinfoil, apologizing for trying to push lena away– but she understood.

it's a slow process, but you’d take all of the time in the world just for lena to forgive you.

there were awkward conversations...

your hesitant attempts at rekindling the bon you've missed.

still.. lena was wary towards you sometimes, her responses guarded.

you muster the courage to approach her a few nights before the semi-final against chelsea. maybe, having this talk at this time could help you both be on your best game– mentally– for the match.

"obi, can we talk?" you ask, your voice hesitant.

she looks at you, a mix of hope and caution in her eyes. "sure."

her cold tone bothered you, but you can only blame yourself.

you sit down together in a lounge room on the training grounds, the silence heavy between you as you can both look out of the windows to see the pitch. before speaking, you look out at some of the girls on the pitch passing the ball with their heads. practice ended over half-an-hour ago so you’re surprised that some girls are still here.

taking a deep breath, looking at lena, you begin. "i'm sorry for how i've acted throughout the winter. it was not fair to you. i just... something happened– and i realized something which scared me– i've been through a lot, and I got scared."

you realized you were jumping corners, away from confessing your true feelings and thoughts, but you wanted the conversation to go one step at a time.

lena listens, her expression softening as she remembered what some of the girls told her during the last international camp. "i get that you're scared, but i would never put you in harms way, which is what hurt me the most"

you nod, tears pricking at your eyes as you look down at your white colored cleats with grass stains. "i know. i promise you i'm trying to get over this fear through the therapy i’ve been doing here. i really like you, lena—-- more than just a teammate— and a friend” you mumble.

lena's eyes widened, her breath catching as what their teammates told her were confirmed with y/n’s words. "honey..."

"i know it's a lot to ask right now," you continue, your voice trembling. "but can we try? can we see where this goes?"

for a moment, lena is silent, processing your words. then, she reaches out, moving her chair closer to yours and taking your hands in hers. "i have feelings for you too, y/n. in fact, i think i am in love with you— but I can't be in this alone. i need to know that you’ll be here and you won’t pull away at any moment of struggle.” lena says, noting that all relationships do have mini-struggles, including healthy ones.

you’re scared, more than you’ve ever been, but your heart slows down from its rapid beating after hearing that lena loves you. you look into lena’s eyes, they’re beautiful and you smile with hope.

taking a deep breath, you nod. "i’m willing to try, lena. for you, and for me, and for us."

lena smiles, a genuine, bright smile that warms your heart as she squeezes your hands. "that's all I needed to hear."

It’s not a perfect resolution-- not at all-- and you know there will be challenges ahead. however, you start to see the hope that you thought you wouldn’t have for a very long time.

had this in my drafts for a few weeks lol, wasn't planning on posting this originally <3

#lena oberdorf #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #lea schüller #dfb frauen #bayern frauen #bayern munich #georgia stanway #sydney lohmann

180 notes · View notes