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ceesimz · 18 days ago

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Wings (part one)

You return to the Norway National Team. (autistic!reader)

Reverie fics here! I've put a lot of time and care into this one as I wanted it to feel absolutely right because it's been a plot point since the very first few paragraphs of the original reverie story. So, I really hope I've done it right and done it justice and that you all believe it fits too🙃 (and a p.s. thank you to @pickledwoso for coming up with some perfect ideas for me to work with and keeping me sane whilst writing, v v v grateful <3)

“Ingrid, I have something to tell you.”

It felt right to tell her the decision you’d come to only a few hours before, in a cable car somewhere in Norway; the decision you never thought you would be able to make again. A decision you knew Ingrid had hoped to hear for years.

“Okay.” Ingrid said sceptically, dragging out the ‘y’ at the end as she did so.

You held the phone away from your ear for a second, taking a deep breath and pinching the bridge of your nose.

Bringing up the idea to Alexia had been one thing. Telling Ingrid about your intentions was another. It made it… real. Very real. And the words felt alien on your tongue, you sort of felt like they didn't belong to you. But, as Alexia and your family had encouraged you to the highest degree, welcoming and respecting and celebrating your decision with open arms, they did belong to you.

“I…” That deep inhale came right back out. Your mouth was dry and when there was a lump in your throat that prevented you from speaking clearly, your voice trembled and cracked with nearly every syllable in your next words. “I think I might try to… come back to the national team.”

For Ingrid, who was some hundred miles away in the same country, that might have been the last thing on earth she thought you would say in that moment. Not because she didn’t believe in you, of course not. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You are serious!?” The dark-haired woman exclaimed, almost leaping out of her chair where she sat at the dinner table with her family. Her brother rolled his eyes, used to her theatrics, meanwhile her parents glanced up at her with an anticipatory look.

Ingrid had been thinking about your situation with the national team for quite a while. She was certain that, at this point of your life, she could put her hand on her heart and say you would flourish if you went back. But you never spoke about it, so she never spoke about it, because it was a line she didn’t want to cross as it could have been catastrophic if she did. You had spent months thinking about your decision to leave all those years ago, you were a shadow of yourself as you struggled with the hectic nature of the career you’d delved into once the popularity of the women’s side grew, as well as the unkind and unfair treatment of the staff at the time. You almost didn’t come out the other side of it.

Your best friend had had a front row seat to how beautiful your life had turned out after your move to Barcelona. And this, well… she knew it would make your self-esteem, your confidence, your faith in yourself, it’d all sky-rocket. She didn’t have the words to express how utterly proud she was of you; it consumed her whenever she saw you smile, laugh, joke around with your teammates without overthinking everything or just going mute to prevent the possibility of an ounce of embarrassment. Whenever a tough situation came your way, you took your time to figure out the best way to get through it, and faced it head-on. You’d taken these last few years to discover yourself, to find out what you needed, what you were best at, and who you wanted in your life. There wasn’t a more perfect time to take advantage of all those lessons learnt, and tackle the one final thing that weighed on your mind.

“I think I might be.”

The squeal you were met with was deafening. However, despite how the pitch of it almost made your ears bleed, it overwhelmed you with relief. It didn’t matter that your fellow Norwegian hadn’t actually said anything yet, because that reaction spoke volumes. Literally.

“I am speechless.” Were the words she finally did land on. There was some hushed speaking in the background before you heard her excuse herself, followed by the sound of quick and heavy footsteps until it sounded like she slumped back onto her bed with a dreamy sigh. “You are joining the national team again.”

“Might, Ingrid. I might.” You corrected her, cautious that she was getting ahead of herself. Then, she had the audacity to click her tongue like it was you in the wrong. “There needs to be a lot of thinking going into it. I can’t just do it on a whim. I need to plan, and talk about it, maybe meet with the staff, I need to see what support they can give to me and h-”

“Okay, okay. I know this. Just let me be excited for a moment, let yourself be excited.” You could hear the smile on her face as she spoke, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t ease your anxiety a little. “We can plan it all another time, not right now. Be happy for yourself, this is a big milestone.”

Alexia, who had stepped out the room a little while ago to give the two of you some privacy, walked back in at that moment when you let out another deep breath, trying to will away the pit of nausea in your stomach. She expected you to be done on the phone now considering it had been a bit of time, however she was none the wiser to the twenty minutes of hesitation you had at pressing the call button. The door closed softly behind her and she leaned back against it, waiting and giving you the space you needed.

Honestly, having her there as you talked with Ingrid was comforting. Much more comforting than you thought. You weren’t sure why that was and when your opinion about such a situation had changed; normally these were situations where you did need to be on your own. It was a subtle change, it happened without you knowing, but it was a pretty big one. Having Alexia there helped to remind you that you could do this.

“It is.” You placated quietly, tracing your finger along the scratches and dents in the wooden desk that’d been in your bedroom since you were a teenager. “I am excited. Just very worried, and… stuff.”

“I am so proud of you.” Ingrid rushed out suddenly, and there was quite a significant amount of emotion in her voice then. “So proud. I- oh my god.”

“What?” You said, somewhat concerned at the slight shock she seemed to be experiencing. It was all explained when, no less than a second later, Ingrid bursted out into full-on sobs. “Ingrid, are you okay?”

“Yes! I’m okay.” She blubbered, to which you turned to Alexia with a slightly amused glance until you felt tears brewing as well. “Just proud. So proud. I can’t even say how proud.”

“Alright, alright. I get it.” You mumbled shyly whilst she continued to cry. It was all very… dramatic. But it also couldn’t have gone any better than it did.

“When we get back to Barcelona, I’m gonna come see you and I’m gonna hug the life out of you, okay?” Ingrid said sternly, and it was that determination of hers that made your first tear fall. “And then we’re going to make a plan together. We’ll get whoever we need. Me, you, Ale, maybe Caro or Esmee or Frido, whoever you need. We’ll sort things out and make sure you get to do this how you want, how you need. I promise.”

“Okay.” You nodded though she couldn’t see you. Another tear fell, and you realised you felt way too many things then to be able to express what you wanted. It was a flaw you loathed, but a flaw other people accepted. So you learned to accept it too. “I love you, Ingrid.”

“I love you too. I know you don’t like phone calls so I’m going to let you go, but just in case you didn’t know already, I am really proud of you for this.” You let out a huff of amusement and smiled at her. “Please text me whenever you need to about it, no matter when or what it is. Anything you need, snuppa. Always. I’ll see you soon.”

You thanked her, bid her goodbye, hung up, let your phone fall to your lap, and covered your face with your hands. Alexia waited a minute or two, trying to gauge your feelings, a frown on her face at the sporadic sniffles that came from you. She cautiously took a few steps closer as you leaned forward and took your hands away, resting your arms on the desk and your chin atop them.

“Ingrid is really happy about it.” You murmured, breaths stuttering as you told her. Alexia smiled and came to stand beside you, going to put a hand on your back before hesitating, and opting for the back of your chair instead.

“That’s good.” She hummed, to which you nodded. “Are you?”

“Yeah.”

Her smile doubled in size and she moved behind you, her arms wrapping around you and her hands landing on top of yours, her chin on your shoulder as she pressed her lips against your cheek.

“You should be. You should be so proud. We’ve all got you through this, I love you.”

You would never tire of hearing that.

—

Ingrid really wasn't lying when she said she'd hug the life out of you next time you were together. In fact that might have been an understatement.

At your favourite café, the one you had your first date and were soon to plan your biggest personal milestone at, you were nearly hugged to death by the person that'd watched you grow and had helped you get to this point. Alexia laughed quietly from her chair at the surprise on your face, clearly having underestimated the truth in Ingrid's promise. But then the three of you sat down together, Ingrid across from you with Alexia beside you, and delved straight into it. They didn't hover on the novelty of the decision, knowing too much attention on it might cause you to shut down and close off about it.

You spent almost two hours with them, making a plan and discussing what accommodations and support you would need to make sure things went as well as possible. An initial list was written, and once you had spent some time thinking about it and finalising everything, then you'd tell the staff at the Norway National Team that you intended to return. Your target was the February international break, but you hadn't written off the possibility that might be too soon. Ingrid and Alexia did well to remind you that it didn't matter when you went back. All that mattered was that you felt you were in a place that you wanted to go back. That was enough of an achievement in itself.

Some days you woke up determined that you could do it, it’d be a breeze, and nothing could dim your excitement. Other times, you were wracked with anxiety. So much so, it was hard to think clearly about it, which is where Alexia and Ingrid came in. Any time you got too overwhelmed at the fucking gigantic obstacle that stood before you, they brought you right back to reality. They gently eased your concerns, offering solutions and words of wisdom and comfort and rationality, to the point you wondered why you’d gotten so worked up in the first place. That happened countless times over breakfast at the café, and you got through it with the end result being a plan to get you back where you belonged.

“I think this is a good starting place now, no?” Alexia smiled over at you and Ingrid whilst you put the lid on your pen and slumped back in your chair, inhaling deeply.

The list was fairly long, featuring things like you getting to choose who you room with or even maybe rooming on your own (though you were sure you’d most likely want to be Ingrid for some peace of mind), making sure there was no pressure to participate in anything you didn’t want to do social wise, being able to drop out of camp at any point should you need to, having the final say in if you want to play in the matches or not, and a number of other things too. It was a good starting place, you were satisfied with the things the three of you had brainstormed so far. Though, it hadn’t done a thing to ease your overall anxiety. Sure, these things might help, but it’s still a terrifying thing to go through with.

After all, what if the staff there just say… no? To your requests? You can ask for help but you can't choose how people decide to help you, which makes such a crucial step so petrifying to approach. Especially when they had no qualms in doing so in the past, and it was probably why you never wanted to tell anyone at Frankfurt about your disability.

You’re an adult, you don’t need these things.

It’s unfair if we make these accommodations just for you and nobody else.

You’re being ridiculous and unnecessary, you have nothing to be so anxious about.

If you can't handle it, maybe you don't belong here.

Those were the kind of things they said to you back then and they still echoed around your mind anytime you thought about asking for support from anyone. What people don’t understand is that they have a much longer lasting impact than most realise. For the people saying them, they’re just a momentary thing, they’ll forget they said them an hour after the conversation ends. That’s not the reality for you. Hours, days, weeks, months, years after, their words will continue to taunt you and mock you, adding fuel to the fire of the malicious thoughts your brain musters up whenever you’re struggling.

The fact that your entire experience anywhere in the world lies in the hands of the reactions and opinions of other people, both in terms of support and general behaviour, is… there’s no words to describe the fear it induces. A large portion of the world won’t ever need to even worry about having to go through that, yet they’re the ones controlling the puppet strings. It’s very ironic, and unfair.

“It is. Anything else?” Ingrid asked you gently, to which you shook your head. Your face communicated differently, like you still had a million and one things on your mind, which didn’t surprise either of them. “What are you thinking? Anything for right now or shall we finish up?”

The two of them gave you your space to think as you decided whether to voice these fears or not. They’d heard them a hundred times, Ingrid especially, but you still had them anytime you did something new and it would always be this way.

Your mouth opened and closed a couple times as the last remnants of hesitation slipped away, before you took a sip of your water and spoke afterwards.

“There is so much that’s out of my control.” You began, talking almost in a whisper as the weight of your fear prevented you from speaking any louder. Like, if your voice was half a decibel higher, the staff at the national team all the way in Norway would come storming into the cafe with pitchforks at the ready. “I tried for years to advocate for what I need and they hardly gave me anything. They could just do the same again.”

Alexia knew that was something Ingrid would have to answer to; not only because it was the team Ingrid played for as well, but also because… she’d had to fight for things at Spain camp too, everyone knew that, and everyone knew that things didn’t go well and still weren’t going well. So, instead of floundering to find the right words she didn’t have, she reached out to put her hand on your knee. Within a second, your hand slipped under hers, and she squeezed it instantly to offer some more comfort. You glanced at her and just one look at her face, at her soft smile that spoke volumes of her confidence in you and her eyes that were so loving and free of judgement, it grounded you. How was that possible?

“The staff that are there now aren’t the same as who were there in the past. There has been a lot of reshuffling over the years to try and make it a better place for everybody and I’m certain that it is much better. I would never lie or sugarcoat that, I mean it absolutely.” Ingrid answered honestly, and you could tell by the seriousness in her face that she did mean it absolutely. You looked at Alexia again for a moment, feeling extra secure in the response to your question when she nodded, even if she had no idea whether Ingrid was telling the truth or not. “The only person that is still there is Heidi, who you-”

“She does the best kjøttkaker med potetmos!”

At the mention of the one person that still worked for the national team, your face and mood lit up. Ingrid grinned and nodded, whilst Alexia chuckled softly with a shake of her head. Even in the time you’d been with her, which was years after you last played for Norway, Alexia had heard all about Heidi’s, one of the chefs hired by the team, excellent cooking, especially for one of your favourite safe foods from back home.

…surely, in only a few years, she hadn’t lost her talent?

“She’ll be so happy to see you again, kjære.” That reminded you of another worry you had.

“What about everyone else?” You mumbled sheepishly, insecurity clear in your tone that had your girlfriend frowning beside you.

“Trust me, they will all welcome you back with open arms. Please don’t doubt that for a second.” Ingrid said firmly, ensuring she didn’t leave any room for you to still fear such a thing.

It was understandable, of course it was. Both Ingrid and Alexia knew why you would be worried – in situations like that, the people you’re surrounded by could make or break your experience entirely. Regardless, it still killed them to hear you sound so uncertain if your return would be well received, and it hurt them even more that they couldn’t swear on their lives that it would, because it was just an unknown where the only way to tackle it was… by going through it.

If they could change the world to make it a better experience just for you, no matter the cost for their own livelihoods, they would do it in a heartbeat. They didn’t believe it was fair you had to live with these anxieties all the time, but if they could help by at least being there for you, then they would settle for that.

“Don’t forget that you aren’t doing this alone, engel.” Alexia chipped in softly as her hand squeezed yours once more. “You will have Ingrid there, Caro, Frida, Maren. There will be some you haven’t met or spent much time with and it’s normal to be worried about meeting them, but you won’t have to do that alone. You’ll have people there that love you. And I will only be a phone call away, for anything.”

These were all things that, when you were in the right mindset to think rationally, you knew. The anxiety that’s experienced with autism is a hard thing to describe, it’s different to a general anxiety disorder. Anxiety from an autistic perspective doesn’t involve just the fear of the unknown, it’s the chaos and the unpredictability of what is known. You know there’s people out there that hate you because of how your brain works, they could be next to you and you wouldn’t know until you do something that ‘provokes’ a reaction from. You know there’s people out there that believe you’re weak, that you’re worth less than the average human because of some minor things you can’t do, that are waiting for you to trip up so they can make a laughing stock of you. You know there’s people out there that are looking for an excuse to use your disorder against you. And there’s almost nothing you can do about it.

Nothing, but live your life how you want to. So that’s what you’ll do.

“Okay. I think that might be it for now.” You decided as, by that point, you were a little overwhelmed and in need of some time to process everything that had been discussed and planned. The two of them nodded, but they didn’t say anything. Ingrid especially just… looked at you. Very peculiarly. “What’s that face for?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, though it was very clear she was fighting off a rather large grin. Then, it hit you what she was thinking and dying to do.

“Don’t say i-”

“I’m just so proud of you.” She beamed, and it was a miracle she didn’t start running laps of the café judging by the excitement on her face. You groaned and rolled your eyes, covering your face with your hands as Alexia laughed and put an arm around your shoulder to pull you into her side.

“I’m so proud of you too.” The blonde murmured, her lips grazing your temple in a soft kiss that had Ingrid rolling her eyes at the hopeless state of you both.

“We’re done. Home time.” You told them, shy and a little embarrassed under their constant praise, standing abruptly in your chair. They laughed, not at all offended because it was so you, and stood up too.

The three of you tucked your chairs in, you folded up the piece of paper your list was on, slipped it into your pocket, then suddenly found yourself in the centre of a group hug.

“Gruppeklem!” Ingrid called out a tad too loud for the small café you were in, though you didn’t find yourself caring. As they wrapped their arms around you and embraced you tightly, literally surrounding you with their love, you realised you couldn’t care less about the people around you when these two were by your side at all times.

Despite how well the planning had gone, the topic was still on your mind for the rest of the day – a day which was relaxed, with no plans, to allow you the time to come down from your stresses and process the onslaught of information you’d taken in over breakfast.

Luckily, you had the perfect solution to all your problems that evening.

A combination of two of your favourite love languages: physical touch and quality time. However, it wasn’t quality time in the normal sense, rather for people like you, it was more commonly called parallel play. Being in the same space as Alexia whilst you both did your own individual things, in your own worlds, was something you adored and wouldn't ever be able to describe why. And you both were in your own worlds; you playing a video game on the TV whilst Alexia had her nose stuck in whatever true crime book she’d chosen that week.

The midfielder was lay back against the sofa cushions as you sat against the arm of it, your legs across her lap and her hand on your thigh trailing her fingers absentmindedly, the only time she stopped being when she turned a page. Dinner had been and gone, it was late evening by that point, and a good forty minutes had passed since you last exchanged even just a word with each other. Because it wasn’t necessary.

On the other hand, Alexia knew that your mind was going a million miles per hour, she swore she could almost hear it. Instead of disturbing you, she let you be, like always. You would come to her if you needed it, which was exactly what you did. Even though you knew you were probably getting a bit repetitive at this point, sometimes you just needed a single reminder to put you at ease.

When you paused your game, Alexia noticed, but she didn’t react. You seemed hesitant to speak, though she knew you would eventually, so she didn’t push. You were almost certain you didn’t love anything else in the world more than how well Alexia knew you.

“You seriously think I can do this?” You whispered.

In an instant, her book was closed and her attention was on you. Her now free hand reached out for yours, her head dropped back against the cushions, and she gazed at you with a smile that revealed her answer before she even spoke.

“I have never been more confident in anything in my life, than I am in you right now.”

Well, what more could you ever need?

“That’s a bold statement, Ale.” You teased her lightly, a hint of a smile on your face with some pink cheeks that Alexia swore was her favourite sight in the world.

“It is one I believe in and you should too.” The look she fixed you with was a mix of sternness and softness, but it did little to settle you much. With a sarcastic roll of her eyes, she gently pushed your legs off of her and shuffled closer to sit on the edge of the couch, putting her hands on either of your cheeks. She kissed your forehead, a featherlight brush of her lips that caught you off guard with the pure tenderness of it, before she gave you that same look from a moment ago. “Stop thinking for tonight, okay? It’s not doing you any favours, so stop. Give yourself a rest. What can I do to help?”

You shrugged, not giving yourself a second to consider it because you didn’t want to ask for anymore from her. Until she raised her eyebrow at you, a light scolding that made you laugh quietly.

“Can’t we just… lay here, together? You help without even having to do anything.” You sounded incredibly shy as you answered her, she couldn’t help but grin in turn. Though, secretly, that was an admission that she was sure she would remember forever; it was all she could wish for.

So for the rest of the evening, that’s exactly what you both did. Alexia instructed that you lay on top of her with your head on her chest, which you were more than happy to comply with, and she resumed her story as you put on a show on the TV. One hand held her book whilst the other slid under your shirt, splaying out on your back and soothingly tracing shapes with her fingernails up and down. Then, the two of you retired to bed later on, and you woke up the next morning without feeling like an elephant was seated right upon your heart. God only knows where you would be without Alexia.

—

February came around much sooner than you anticipated, which meant it was time to leave. You decided a few weeks before that this was the right time to go, and with some back and forth meetings with the necessary staff, your accommodation requests had been met. Without any hesitation or argument or frustration. It went… oddly smooth.

The meetings and video calls were not good for your heart due to the anxiety they caused, but Alexia was there by your side when she could and you got through them all like they were nothing. Most importantly, you stood your ground. If someone suggested something else or wasn’t sure if it could be done, you hardly flinched, and assertively told them exactly what it was you were asking for. It was kind of hard not to be distracted during them when Alexia would grin like a proud maniac off camera every time you advocated for yourself.

And fortunately for you, by some miracle, the day you both had to leave her flight was later than yours, so you managed to spend the morning together where she helped to make sure you were absolutely ready to go, both in the sense of packing and how you were feeling mentally. You’d never reach a perfect state of mind about going, you were still an anxious wreck, but it was more nerves than anything else. You were prepared, you were ready, you wanted to do this and you were going to do it. Not only that, you were going to try your damned hardest to make sure it went well.

When you received the call that you were officially part of the lineup for the next camp, and when you saw your name in the call-up announcement, it was an unmatchable feeling. Sure, you already knew that you were going to be part of it considering it was all you thought about for weeks, but having your name down with your teammates, old and new, there were no words to describe it.

You were minding your business when the email came through, in the physio room after training for Barça when your phone went off with the notification. With no idea what it could be, you opened it, only to gasp so intensely you could have actually created a blackhole in the room for a second. Where in the past you would have kept that moment to yourself, you couldn’t help but turn to Esmee on the bed beside you and show her it. Her reaction was somewhat like yours, just a little less oxygen-stealing and a bit more reserved. She hardly had time to give you a hug before you were darting out the room and beelining straight for the locker room.

In the midst of your rushing, you nearly knocked over three different members of staff, all of which received flustered apologies from the culprit, you, who was already rounding the corner and out of sight. You hadn’t ever run so fast in your life outside of a football pitch, and you then gave each teammate the fright of their lives by how utterly loud the door slammed open. But it was worth it to see you so consumed by joy, it was written all over your face the minute you walked in. You didn’t exactly mean to announce the news to everyone in there, you only intended to tell Alexia and Ingrid what had happened, but in your excitement you sort of forgot to keep your voice at a minimum. That meant that one second, everybody was quiet and intrigued at what had caused such a reaction, and the next they were all surrounding you with their pride and their congratulatory words when you burst out the news.

You knew the time would come at any point after you had your last call with them, yet it still took you by surprise. It was one of the best feelings you ever had. And for once, the anxiety didn’t completely overboard you, you were on cloud-nine and your mind let you.

Until you actually had to leave, and the moment you were stood by the door with your suitcase, heart racing unbearably fast as you said goodbye to Alexia, it all came flying straight back.

You were, on paper, back where you belonged. But you had to actually get there first, which was a challenge in itself because it felt like the second you stepped out the door and closed it behind you, there really was no going back.

Though, you had to do it eventually as no amount of stalling with minutes spent in Alexia’s embrace was going to hold off the inevitable. It’s just that… two weeks apart from her sounded really unappealing. This international break felt different than the rest – whereas beforehand you would stay in Barcelona as Alexia went to Madrid or whatever country she was playing in for Spain, this time you were obviously heading to Norway. You were grateful that both games for you were played at home, but god you were going to miss her during the break more than you ever had when you’d been apart.

With a sickening amount of reluctance, you eventually did manage to drag yourself away from her and down to the car where both Ingrid and the driver had been waiting a bit longer than they’d hoped for you.

Then, a couple hours later, you were in Norway.

“I can’t believe I’m actually here.” You breathed out shakily as you and Ingrid stood before the hotel the team had booked in Oslo.

“You are actually here.” Ingrid beamed beside you, her arm linked through yours and nudging you out of excitement.

First order of business was finding your room, that was easy. But after that, there was a whole team dinner. Hell.

“I think I might be sick.” You swallowed nervously as the woman beside you laughed and shook her head.

“We’ve got this! Are you ready to go in?”

“‘Ready to go in,’ she asks.” You scoffed, though you contradicted yourself with how you headed towards the entrance. Ingrid tried her best to control her excitement, but she was very self-aware at the fact she probably looked somewhat in pain due to the intense smile she was holding off. Thankfully for her pride, however, you stopped in your tracks just outside the doors to go in, and in turn she frowned a little. You glanced at her, then the doors, and back at her again. “You’ll stick with me always?”

There was only one suitable reply from Ingrid.

“Like glue, søster.”

If there was anyone that stuck to their word, it was her. And it was that final push that gave you an ounce of confidence that was enough to go inside.

Luckily, the two of you were some of the first to arrive, and the others that also had were already up in their rooms, which made your first order of business just that bit easier. Introductions could be saved for later, at dinner.

A whole team dinner. Where the whole team would be. The team you hadn’t seen in years, or hadn’t even met. The team that could either love you or hate you for not representing your country once in the last few years. The team where each person would do anything for the crest on their jerseys, the names on their backs, and the anthem that played before each match.

What on earth had you done.

“Ingrid, I don’t know if I can do this.” You fretted a little later in your room after spending some time there, unpacking and overthinking, before you were due down for dinner. Time had gone far too fast for your liking.

Ingrid had a hand on the door handle as you stood behind her, shaking with nerves and sick to the pit of your stomach. Even forgetting what felt like your inability to socialise and greet people in that moment, you probably wouldn’t even be able to stomach a forkful of food during the meal either. It was merely a recipe for disaster.

“You can, I believe in you. I’ll be there the whole time, alright? You know that. Once you get there and get sat down, we’ll be okay.” She reassured you.

God knows how many times she’d uttered those words or similar over her life, yet she had no qualms doing it then and probably forever. It never failed to amaze you how much patience this woman had.

At that, you followed her out the room and down to the hotel restaurant with a feigned confidence that you wore like armour. If you told yourself you belonged, maybe you would start to believe it. So that’s what you did; you walked in, head held high and a calm expression on your face that you hoped worked as a good disguise for the absolute reactor meltdown happening inside your mind. Alarms going off, red lights flashing, system on overdrive, workers in hazmat suits running riot like headless chickens, buzzers beepi-

“Is this table okay?”

It was one of the ones at the back of the room, a little bit away from the front where Gemma, the manager, would stand with the rest of her staff to welcome everyone back.

Oh fuck. Would she welcome you back and make a big deal out if it?

“Kjære?” Right.

“Sorry, yes, here is fine. We’re the first ones here?” You asked, looking around at the sparse room apart from the cooking staff setting up off to one side.

“Looks like it.”

Over the next ten minutes or so, your teammates slowly began to trail in. Each one came over after spotting Ingrid first, until they spotted you. And every time, their faces lit up immeasurably more when they realised who they'd bumped into.

They were happy to see you. Or at least they seemed it, you weren't a mind reader so could only take their kindness at face value. One by one, they took their time to catch up with you or to properly introduce themselves, bright smiles on their faces and their tones welcoming. Maren and Ada gave you a huge hug, Caro wandered over with a quietly proud look in her eye, Frida immediately took a seat beside Ingrid and delved the three of you into conversation. Karina, Teri, and Celin filled the rest of the table after greeting you, followed by a couple others coming over before finding their seats within the room.

And as simple as that, the hardest part was over.

Did your hands tremble like a magnitude 8.0 earthquake? Yes. Did the amount of strangers in the room terrify you? Undoubtedly. But did you make it through regardless? Of course you did.

You were capable of so much more than your anxious mindset gave you credit for. It was cruel and it was evil, the tricks it’d play on you to make these sorts of things seem much more daunting then they were, but some things would never change and the terror that filled you in the anticipation and the build up to a nerve-wracking occasion was certainly one of them.

You’d built the situation up in your head so much that when you got through the ‘scariest’ part, you didn’t exactly know what to do with yourself or where to go next. All your focus had been on meeting everyone again, when it was over, it all felt very… anticlimactic. T’was a little humbling.

“You coming to get dinner? There’s someone there waiting for you.” Ingrid grinned slyly. Apparently you were so deep in your daydreams you’d missed how everyone had left to go collect their meals. That was a habit you could never shake off.

You stood and trailed behind the dark-haired woman, queueing up along with the team and slowly padding your way to the front. You heard her gasp before you saw her.

“Look who's back!” Heidi. God was it such a relieving sight to see someone you knew, someone that worked for the national team that didn't resent you when you asked for what you needed like they all did in the past. It was refreshing, relieving, and the exact perfect reminder that it wasn’t all doom and gloom, if at all.

The older woman didn’t hesitate in rounding the corner of the buffet setup to engulf you in a bear hug that felt comforting, like a warm welcome back.

“It’s so good to see you again.” You told her, only for her to squeeze you harder, almost forcing the oxygen out of your lungs with the sheer strength of it.

“You don’t say!” She let out a hearty laugh, and despite the years that had passed, not a single thing about her had changed.

Her hair, silver-streaked and woven into the neatest plait on earth, was hardly tucked away under the net she wore and the cool colour of it did nothing to distract away from the warmth her demeanor oozed, nor did the ice blue of her eyes. She was the picture of what living a true, kind life could lead to; one could only hope to age as well as her. Wrinkles dotted her face, though they weren’t from age alone, they were from decades of time well spent, laughing and smiling with people she truly valued, people like you. People whose lives she made a hell of a lot better by being who she was.

There was something about her that, upon first meeting, made you feel at ease, like you had at least one person who understood you in an environment where most didn’t. And years later, you still felt that way and more in her company. Even just her presence gave you a spark of hope, which would sound strange to some, but she was the type of person that restored one’s faith in humanity. The talented chef had stories for centuries, and somehow each had a different life lesson that left every listener dwelling on it in awe the rest of the night. She’d lived through some hardships, many more difficult than most could grasp, yet there was no bitterness in her.

Only when someone dared to mention retirement to her.

“You will never understand how happy I am that you are here.” After she let you go from her embrace, her weathered hands cupped your cheeks with a delicateness only someone like her possessed. They trembled the tiniest bit as her thumbs ran along your cheekbones, gazing up at you in wonder, as if you joining the national team again was like the second coming of Christ.

“Took me some time but nevermind.” You smiled shyly, only for her to tut at you with a stern eyebrow raise and a shake of her head.

“None of that. I have something for you.” Before you could stop her, tell her there was no need, she was rounding the counter and ducking down to grab something from the hot cupboard. She stood up straight, in her arms a silver food platter. And when she took the lid off to reveal a steaming hot meal, there was only one thing it could be. “Your favourite!”

It wasn’t on the menu, not at all, yet she went out of her way to make it anyway. No matter how small a gesture it may seem to others, it meant the world to you. Heidi didn’t have to do that, she didn’t have to treat you like her own blood, but it was just in her nature to be that kind of person. It turned your whole day around.

“Heidi!” You exclaimed, looking at the dish with an ecstatic expression. Single-handedly, she had just solved your food concerns for that evening, because the offer of a safe food cooked by the best that made it was simply no match for whatever tricks your anxiety tried to pull on you. “I can’t believe you! Thank you!”

“I also will make your favourite breakfast tomorrow too, the best vafler in the land.” The wise lady grinned coyly with a wink. “Think of it as a welcome back, to get you settled in, okay? I’m proud of you for coming back, now go sit yourself down before you miss the briefing. Come find me afterwards for a catchup.”

Speechless. You were utterly speechless at her kindness. Every time you saw her again, she seemed to one-up herself without fail.

Internally, Ingrid marvelled at the smile on your face as you sat back down with your food and took a photo of it to show it off to Alexia, before immediately digging into it. It was like night and day, what that one act of kindness had done, because suddenly you weren’t stuck in your head overthinking everything, and instead were just happy to be there. You hardly even flinched at the small message Gemma gave in her briefing at your return, you simply smiled and forgot about it when she moved on to the next topic.

Some things were so simple and easy and small, yet somehow always made the biggest differences. If more people understood that, how far a little kindness could go, God only knows what the world could look like not just for people like yourself but for everyone. For now, however, you were happy to settle for some incredible kjøttkaker med potetmos and the warm, bubbly feeling in your chest at the fact you were surrounded in your life by people that adored you so wholeheartedly, they’d even get excited at a fairly bland meal whilst they were hundreds of miles away in a completely different country.

Alexia decided to refrain from telling you about the teasing she got as a result of checking her phone every minute in the hopes of a text from you, and the gigantic smile with a pink tinge to her cheeks she adorned whenever she did get a message. That was information you would never let her live down.

—

With little fanfare and fuss, the first training session the next day was… fine. It was good. It was different from Barcelona and Frankfurt, every team’s training was wildly different, but you found your groove fairly quick. Some of your teammates and staff even went so far to say it was like you never left, you adjusted that well. Which felt like the highest compliment you could receive, and it was, considering the way it never left your mind for the rest of the day.

What came with your list of amendments and accommodation was the freedom you had to choose how your days went, aside from the football related activities. So once training finished and the cool down in the gym, where you were left alone from anyone you knew previously with a bunch of the players you’d newly met, went off without a hitch and the tactics discussion for the upcoming game came and went, you had the rest of the day to do whatever you wanted.

Initially, you floundered at the overwhelming prospect of plans thrown around by the people you and Ingrid hung around with, as well as others piling in their suggestions, so heading back to your room for a little while seemed like your best bet for the time being.

In your mind, as you sat on the edge of your bed, every idea someone had was an opportunity to try and fit in socially with the team. Slotting in well on the football side was good, best case scenario really and all you could ask for, but feeling like you belonged as a person and not just a player would be the cherry on the cake. So you thought through each suggestion, approaching them like they were tactical styles for a game and trying to guess which one would end in the best result for you, your hands tapping endlessly on your knees as you stared out the window in front of you.

Going out with Celin, Teri, and Karina could be fun, but they were a loud bunch. You were notoriously shy around people you didn’t know, you didn’t want to bring the mood down by being with them. So you could tag along with Caro and Guro and Sophie and a few others, though again apart from Caro you didn’t know them all that well. With people you don’t know, you can’t prepare for hanging with them, which opens up a world of awkwardness. There was Maren who wanted to catch up with you, Frida wondered if you and Ingrid wanted to go to a cafe she liked in the area, there were so many possibilities yet you had no idea where to start. It felt like you had too much to do with too little time, even though it was only the first full day.

Ingrid kept an eye on you from afar, ensuring you didn’t work yourself up too much, until that exact thing happened and you stood abruptly with a groan.

“What’s bothering you?” She prodded gently, dropping her phone to the bed and fixing you with a reassuring look.

“I don’t know what to do the rest of the day.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as Ingrid smiled. She stayed silent, giving you space to think. A moment later, you collected your thoughts and tried your best to construct them. “I just don't know. There's so many choices, I didn't know what was on the agenda for today so I couldn't really think in advance. I also don't want to drag you away from whatever you want to do, so that ma-”

“You know by now that I don't care about that. And if I ever did, if there was something that I was unbelievably desperate to do, I would tell you. But there isn't. I love spending time with you, that'll never change, you're my best friend. So, talk it through with me. Do your thinking out loud, it'll help rather than keeping it all stuck in there and overwhelming you.” Her interruption was stern but with good intentions, a minor warning that ticked all the right boxes.

“Okay.” You nodded, took a deep breath, and sat on the end of her bed, facing her with your legs crossed. “I want to get to know everyone if I can. I want to fit in as a person, not just a player. But I don’t know where, or who, to start with. Everyone is so welcoming and I didn’t really expect that, and now I don’t want to disappoint anyone by not seeing them today.”

“We have two weeks here, remember? We don’t have to do everything possible in Oslo today. Take it easy for today, do what feels right, what you want to do and not what you think everyone else wants you to.”

You considered it for a moment. Then decided that actually made a lot of sense.

“Getting coffee with Frida sounds good.” You stated sheepishly. You’d made a big thing out of nothing, once again. Though, you didn’t spend too long dwelling on that because to the people that mattered, they couldn’t care less about it. In a good way, that is.

“It does. So that’s what we’ll do.”

And that’s what you did.

An hour after your momentary blip, you were out walking the chilly but sunny streets of the capital. You hadn’t been there in a long time, so spending your first day refamiliarising yourself with the city with Frida and Ingrid was a good way to ease into the next fortnight. The young blonde midfielder was great company, and honestly you were glad to finally have the opportunity to get to know her more. Ingrid had sung her praises plenty of times, so to be with her now as well as the dark-haired defender as a buffer was perfect.

The whole afternoon was perfect. The three of you spent hours, dipping in and out of different trinket shops and cafes, whilst conversation flowed easily throughout. Most importantly, you didn’t feel the need to mask much, and that was always the best sign of a budding friendship for you. So when you trudged back to your room, bidding Frida a goodbye as you went your separate ways with Ingrid, you felt you’d had a pretty successful first day. Really, it couldn’t have gone any better if you tried.

There was just one niggle in the back of your mind as you slipped your shoes off and slumped down onto your bed; it was only the first day, and already you missed Alexia a million times more than you thought. You would have done anything to be able to have her waiting for you in the hotel room, ready to welcome you back with open arms and endless reminders of how proud she was. But no, she was in a different country, doing her own thing with her own team on her own schedule, and there was no getting around that. You took a glance at your phone to see it void of notifications from her, just to top it all off.

As a result, despite the day you’d had, you were left feeling pretty flat.

Unfortunately, when you got stuck spiralling, your mind was your own worst enemy. You took your longing for her as a sign that you possibly relied on her too much. Without giving it much thought, you decided that had to change. She didn’t need you nagging her, constantly talking about yourself and how your day went when she had to pull her team and its dividedness together. Distancing yourself from her was for the better, for her sake, or so you thought.

Not much could get past Alexia, however.

“Hi!” The Spaniard said down the phone the second you picked up a couple hours later, after dinner when you were just about to get into bed. Then she cleared her throat, trying to quell her unbridled excitement. “Hola, engel. How was your day?”

“It was good. Nothing… nothing much.” The first red flag of the phone call.

“Oh, really? Your first day training with Norway again was nothing?” She teased lightly, not quite catching the gist of your plan.

“Yeah, it was.”

There was an awkward silence as Alexia frowned in confusion where she waited in the elevator for it to reach her floor. She'd ran from the dinner hall the moment she could get away, just to talk to you. She was expecting an upbeat version of you, not the one she got.

“Are you okay?” She murmured. All she got in response was a half-assed hum.

Ingrid, who was gathering her things from her suitcase to have a shower, couldn't help but eavesdrop. She knew exactly what you were doing, hell, she'd been on the receiving end of it a number of times in the early days of knowing you.

Other people's opinions terrified you, and one sub-topic of that was how scared you were of people thinking you were incapable of doing anything on your own. Incapable of being your own person, of not depending on anyone, of needing your hand held through every little life event. And as someone that hadn't ever been in such a serious relationship before, and had also been called childish and other insults a million times for apparently ‘lacking’ independence, the line between missing someone and being too clingy was blurred for you. Consequently, you did what you did best: avoiding situations that made your chest ache and your mind spiral.

Except that was hard to do when you were doing it in front of two people that knew you best.

“Are you sure you're o-”

“Yes, I'm sure, Alexia.”

Alexia thought she might have been sick, it was so far from how she pictured the day ending. When she called you, she swore she could almost hear you relaying your day with a shy excitement to your voice before you'd even picked up the phone. As it turned out, things couldn't have been further from the truth.

On the other hand, the outsider in all this rolled her eyes. When emotions weren't tied into a situation, it was actually pretty easy to see the real picture.

With absolutely zero hesitation, Ingrid dropped her things on her bed and marched over to you. She could vaguely hear Alexia fumbling a response that you weren't paying a single bit of mind to, but before the midfielder could finish, the phone was snatched from your hands and put on speaker.

“Ingrid! What the hell are you do-”

“Alexia, please don't be discouraged by her. She's panicking because she misses you. And she's worrying because she's never had anyone to miss before, she doesn't want you to think of her as clingy or anything. When we both know she's not clingy, she's in love. So, be her girlfriend, tell her you love her, and get her to tell you how successful her day was. Thank you.”

Just like that, she handed the phone back to you and headed into the bathroom, the lock clicking behind her.

For a few seconds, the line was silent between you and your girlfriend. You were frozen in place where you lay, whilst Alexia had her hand on the handle of her hotel room, a small, amused smile beginning to make its way onto her face at the strange turn of events. Although it upset her to hear what you were really thinking, it was fixable, with only a few words of reassurance. And it just so happened to be that expressing how much she adored you was one of her favourite things to do.

“Is that true?” She asked, finally stepping into her room and leaning back against the door as it shut. There was another pause, until you scoffed lightly, and Alexia broke out into a grin.

“...Maybe.”

Some soft laughter down the phone had you groaning and slapping a hand over your face, whilst the culprit of your embarrassment slumped down on her bed and kept the grin on her face.

“Why would you think that, engel? I told you before you left that I want to hear from you, always, whenever you want. I have my phone notifications at full volume so I don't miss any of your calls or texts.” The blonde recalled the teasing she'd received the night before after Laia called her out for her attachment to her phone, the same teasing she was adamant she wouldn't tell you about. Well, she'd do just about anything to make you feel better. “Everybody keeps teasing me for being on my phone so much, apparently I don't leave it alone.”

“Apparently?” You joked, a small smile growing at the chuckle she replied with.

“Sí. How do you know I'm not checking the weather all the time? You know I hate the rain.”

“No, you just miss me too much.” You weren't wrong there.

“I do, and it's normal for you to miss me too much too. There is no such thing as too much, amor. You're not clingy. I want you to tell me everything, I wish I could talk to you all day every day, I wish I could be there in the cold with you. So please, tell me everything. Even all the boring things. Nothing is boring or too much with you, because it is you. Do you understand?” She spoke earnestly, not an ounce of judgement or mockery in her tone. She spoke with every intention of getting you to believe her, and you fell for it everytime, it was impossible not to.

“I have never missed anyone as much as I miss you right now.”

It was an admission you weren't expecting to voice but one you believed with every fibre of your being. It came out quietly and shyly, because you were sharing a certain truth that scared you. Alexia didn't scare you, that couldn't be further from reality. But sometimes when you thought about it, when you thought about how she was the first person in the world you showed every single part of yourself to, it terrified you of what she could do with all that. You hadn't done that before, ever.

Then she walked into your life, strolling over to you on your first day at Barcelona with an ease to her that gave you butterflies, and all of a sudden half your life was merged with someone else's. You'd spent years building up a wall between your heart and the rest of the world, something you didn't have much of a choice in if you wanted to protect your sanity and will to live. Someone was on the other side of that wall now, had your heart in the palm of their hands, and whilst that was the scariest thing you'd ever done, more than rejoining the national team, when you stepped back and remembered who it was, there wasn't a thing about it you would change.

The back and forth of fear and serenity was tiring, but it was happening less and less. This time, however, you knew it wouldn't happen again when-

“I feel the same way.” She stated definitively, leaving zero room for you to disbelieve her. “I would do anything to be there to watch you play in a Norway jersey with my own eyes. If I wasn't one more thing away from being kicked off the national team then I'd be there for you, of course I would. I really would give anything to be there in person.”

“Really?” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Yes! Yes I would. Without a doubt. I know it scares you that you feel like this, it scares me too. But nothing truly good ever comes without it being at least a little terrifying. Like now, you’re in Norway, playing for your country. It was the scariest thing you’d ever done but you’re there now and in only a couple days you’ll be out on the pitch, doing what you’ve wanted to do for the last few years. It’s always worth it in the end, no?” The last sentence was said with a knowing, soft intonation behind it.

To hear she felt the same was surprising. She was Alexia Putellas, someone that never appeared to show a bit of weakness or fear in anything she did. There was you, who could barely stomach the thought of going to a farmer’s market on a busy day. None of that mattered when you were on the phone with that very ‘fearless’ woman, who was openly admitting that the things she felt scared her, though she knew it was worth it. That you were worth it.

“I had no idea you felt the same way.” Again, she let out a little laugh, a sound that made your heart skip a beat even if that was an incredibly cliche thing to say. You were quickly learning that love actually was quite cliche, and you weren’t the slightest bit mad at it. As someone that never had anyone to experience the cliches with, you wanted to experience all of them, no matter how sickly sweet.

“This is why we talk about things, engel. It’s just me. You know I will never judge you for anything you say to me.”

“I know that.” You told her. Then you went quiet for a few moments, because something that you’d realised a couple months back suddenly made itself known, and in a second it felt like it became a life or death matter to tell the very person it concerned. “Ale, you’re my safe person.”

The woman in question didn’t know what that meant. It still made her blush nevertheless, and she lay in bed with a redness to her cheeks and a coy smile on her face like a lovesick teenager.

“What does that mean?”

It was your turn to blush as you turned to momentarily hide your face in your pillow even though she couldn’t see you. You weren’t embarrassed as such to tell her such a thing, but in your world it was a pretty big title to give someone. Hell, it was the biggest.

Like you had your safe foods, safe routine, safe places, Alexia was the encyclopedia for all that, as well as your best friend and someone you didn’t need to mask around and someone you were madly in love with. If telling her that didn’t scare her off, you might just have to start believing that she did in fact want to spend the rest of her life with you.

However… that didn’t seem like such a shocking thing to you anymore. Maybe in her books, it was a year too late to start thinking that for yourself. But it was new for you, unheard of actually. It brought you immeasurable amounts of comfort, contentment, and pride. It was one of the first notable steps of progress you could recognise within yourself that you felt deserving of, and that was sure to give way to a world of possibilities for your confidence.

She definitely was your safe person, there was no denying that, and you didn’t want to deny it. You didn’t want your insecurities in the way anymore. Ale loved you and that feeling was unrivalled; you couldn’t wait for a lifetime of it.

“It means… I love you. More than anyone or anything. It means that being with you is the greatest comfort of my life and nothing could compare to it.” You started, and Alexia swore she could feel herself growing emotional. “You make the world seem quieter and feel safer. You make me feel like I can do anything because I have you, whether that’s when you’re beside me or just on the phone. I’m more myself around you than any other person on the planet and I’ve never experienced that before. Even better, you love me like that. You love me. The true me. Not the masked version where everything people normally don’t like about me is hidden. You love me even when I don’t love myself and that makes me feel safe. Because in that I feel valued, adored, all those kinds of things and the security that gives me is something I've never had before. Now, I… don't know what I would do without it. I certainly wouldn't be here right now.”

Coincidentally, to Alexia, it was also the biggest compliment she could ever receive. All that you said, was all she could ever dream of hearing and achieving. There was a rush of emotions she felt as a result of your short ramble, too fast for her to identify anything so soon, but there were two outliers that she’d be able to recognise no matter what; love, and pride. God, she felt so much pride towards you and towards herself, because you had gotten yourself where you were then, and because she was the exact person she wanted to be in her relationship. The worries and doubts she had at the start with you couldn’t be further away, there was no world they could exist in when you were saying such unimaginable things to her. Fortunately, she didn’t have to imagine them, they were the truth. They were the reality of the dynamic of your relationship.

Neither of you could ever ask for anything more – from each other, from the world, from your lives. Everything you needed was within each other.

“I will always try to be that person for you, engel. There is nobody else I would rather be.”

That was a pretty big statement in itself.

She didn’t care for being a footballer, for being Alexia Putellas. All she cared for was being your girlfriend, your safe person, the best version of those two she could be. The rest were just bonuses to her now. The gravity of what she just said wasn’t lost on you, it was perhaps the greatest verbal demonstration of her love she had ever given. You were pretty sure your life peaked in that moment.

“So, stop making me cry and tell me how your day went.” Alexia said, and you heard her sniffle quietly afterwards. You laughed, and she laughed too, both nearly delirious with the affection you had for each other. “I only have so long before Irene comes back and she is not seeing me like this. Hurry. I want to hear it all.”

At her request, you spent the next half hour relaying the events of your day, whilst Alexia lay there on her back, staring up at the ceiling, a hopeless and proud smile on her face and a hand over her heart, trying to calm the fluttery feeling in her chest that only increased with every bit of good news you revealed. She would simply never be able to vocalise how proud she was, the short five letter word simply wasn’t enough for her.

But with a miserable amount of reluctance, there came a time where you had to hang up for the night. And as silly as it may seem, going from talking to her, albeit on the phone, and having the comfort of her again, only to hang up and have nothing but an empty bed was a downer. Thankfully though, you did still have the woman that led you to have that conversation with you.

After you dropped your phone to the bed with a grumpy sigh, you looked to your left where Ingrid was on her bed, earphones in on her laptop. It seemed you were filled to the brim with adoration that night, because you got up and went to join her. You slumped down beside the dark-haired woman and rested your head on her shoulder, though opted out of speaking. This, Ingrid knew, was a silent way of saying thank you for her intervention earlier. She smiled slyly, leaning her head down on top of yours.

“I did it for you, you know. Not to be against you or aggravate you. There was no way I was letting you sit there and prevent yourself from letting her be there for you just because you were too worried and caught up in your own head. She loves you, she wants to be there for you. You love her, so allow her to be there for you, alright?” You smiled and nodded, though it quickly turned into a fairly dramatic frown at the mention of the woman you’d just had to say goodbye to.

“I miss her.”

In another country’s capital, a certain Spaniard was in the exact same position. She hadn’t moved from where she was when she was on the phone to you, and the smile on her face hadn’t shifted either. Just her luck that Irene walked into the sight, and Alexia had no choice but to sit up, slide one of her hotel slippers off her foot, and lightly launch it at the defender, who laughed at her for the dramatic Romeo and Juliet-esque scene she stepped into.

When Alexia went to sleep that night, her cheeks aching from the sheer amount of time she spent smiling, it was to the sounds of her brainstorming of all the ways she could show off her pride when she had you back in Barcelona.

But before then, you had a game to think about.

—

very very ridiculously nervous posting this so i hope you enjoyed it :') part two is getting done and will be with you soon as i can!

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #ingrid engen #woso fic #alexia putellas #fcb femení x reader #woso #woso community

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whimsiwitchy · 7 months ago

Text

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part two)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men.

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: I truly appreciate every single one of you who has enjoyed this story and has shown it love. I want to have a slow start to things so I hope everyone appreciates a good slow burn lol. enjoy! <3

part two: pathetic

London was absolutely beautiful. You’d always dreamed of coming here- simply exploring anywhere out of America really. It was so fun being in a foreign place hearing silly accents all day, you loved it. You wanted nothing more than to do a world tour for your debut album but your label decided to play it safe by only touring around North America. Now that you were here, you dreamed bigger and would try your hardest to gain the fan base it took to have a world tour. Traveling was honestly one of the best perks of being famous.

famous

It was a word you were still getting used to as it almost felt shallow to refer to yourself as such. Though it was true. You were famous. Having that interaction with Hugh and Ryan yesterday made the reality sink in even more. Two men who had been in the industry for decades knew who you were, it was mind boggling to put it simply. The embarrassment seemed to keep creeping in when you would remember your interaction between the two men yesterday. The yelp of surprise and the quick, but loud, ‘holy shit’ that was thrown from your mouth involuntarily made you cringe. Hugh asking about Pedro was something you weren’t prepared for at all either. It made sense for him to ask, if he was a close friend of Pedro’s then your name being brought up didn’t seem like the oddest thing. However, never meeting Hugh before, you wished the conversation could have been different.

Ugh stupid hot, tall, older, Australian man that could sing. He was literally everything you found attractive bundled up into one man. You had a brief obsession with The Greatest Showman, as every theater kid did, but your celebrity crush of the movie was Zac Efron. If only freshman you could see current you, she’d probably laugh.

Hugh had been on your mind all night and hadn’t left since you woke up this morning. If you could remember, you’d be certain he was the focus of your dreams too. The following and the comment was shocking to say the least. From Ryan’s words, they were fans but why did he follow you after he had met you instead of before. Ha, as you think about it more, it probably wasn’t even him. It was more than likely someone who was hired to run his socials, just like the person on your team that posted that photo for you. You were definitely overthinking it all…This morning when you were brushing your teeth, you kept trying to remember the feeling of his big hand on the base of your spine. It was all a bit pathetic.

“Helloooo…earth to y/n.” Ashley, your best friend, says as she snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Are you going to tell me what has you all spaced out or do I have to deal with you moping around this entire trip?” There's a hint of annoyance in her voice.

Ashley has been your best friend since middle school. She was always your number one supporter, so in return, you take her almost everywhere with you. Of course you invited her to London and of course she planned an entire itinerary around your busy work schedule. Her company was appreciated but it was impossible to hide your emotions from her, making moments like this difficult.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing really, it can wait until later.” If the two of you weren’t sitting in the middle of a small cafe, you would have told her every single thought that sat in your brain, but you couldn’t. You never knew who was listening in on your conversations. That became something you had to get used to, not being able to exist in public. It usually wasn’t too bad, for example, you could sit in a cafe with your best friend but sometimes things got out of hand and you couldn’t even walk down the street.

“Okay, you better.” She gave you an understanding nod. “So, I bought us tickets to go on the London Eye at 2pm then I thought we could go grab a late lunch or dinner, whatever you-” You’re looking at her and nodding trying your best to pay attention but you can’t. You hated the way one singular interaction with Hugh had your entire day scrambled. If you ever saw him again, you’d have to tell him off for being so hot and ruining the fun London trip you had planned.

—

The wait for the London Eye ended up taking an extra forty five minutes and Ashley was pissed. She was a very schedule oriented person, one minute off and she’s stressed the fuck out. The entire time we waited, she complained and would have had the king on the phone if you hadn't stopped her. Her mood was unchanged by the time you stepped into your private cart.

“If I tell you all of my boy drama, would it make you calm down and enjoy the ride?” You ask slyly as you look down at the water below as the wheel starts to move the bubble you’re sitting in higher.

She gasps and her eyes go wide.

“BOY DRAMA???” She screams out, her previous negative mood disappearing and her eyes light up with excitement.

You sigh as you gather your thoughts.

“Well..it’s not really drama. I may or may not have a teensy crush on someone.”

“Oh my god!! Who is it? Have I met them?”

“Uh no. I actually just met him-” She’s cutting you off before you can finish your sentence.

“YOU SLUT!” She yells, pointing an accusing finger at you.

“What the hell Ash? I didn’t even tell yo-”

“It’s Hugh fucking Jackman isn’t it? Stacy said she saw the way you looked at him yesterday. Jesus y/n, you don’t even know the guy.” She’s rambling on, judgment clear in her voice.

“Since when are you and Stacy on talking terms?” You purposely ignore everything else she said. Ashley was jealous of Stacy for awhile. When you asked her about it she claimed that Stacy was trying to steal her best friend away. It took a lot of reassurance that the relationship you had with Stacy was work before friendship- and if she had become a good friend along the way, that was something you weren’t going to tell Ashley.

“We can be civil when it comes to concerns for you.”

“And what concerns are there lately?”

“Huh… Stacy let me in on your little conversation yesterday about swearing off men for a little bit but once Hugh stepped through the door, she said that she could tell that idea was out the window.” She’s trying her hardest to keep a straight face but there was a slight smirk peeking through.

“Oh my fucking god, you guys are so dramatic. Yes he’s fine as FUCK but like you said I dont know him. I probably won’t ever see him again.” You sigh at the end. You really wanted to see him again.

“What even happened that has you wrapped around his finger already?” You don’t speak for a moment as you think about how to say your thoughts without feeling dumb.

“Please don’t tell me you only have a crush on him because he’s hot…You take your crushes too far for that.” There's a look of panic resting on her face.

“He uh…well…you know how we took the pictures yesterday for BBC?” You ask and she's nodding. “I thought he looked good but I swear I wasn’t thinking anything irrational. It was when we had to take those stupid pictures and he rested his hand on my back…Ash, I swear there was a spark or something. It felt so… I don’t know…so.. right?” The cart you’re in is sitting at the top of the wheel and you’re taking advantage of the view while you wait for Ashley to respond. When she doesn’t, you turn to look at her. She’s staring blankly at you, giving you slow blinks.

“What?” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“Y/n, how old is he?” Her expression is unchanging.

“Fifty five…I googled it last night..” You were feeling ashamed of your behavior. You felt like a kid with a stupid school crush. Pathetic.

“Hm, that’s your oldest yet. What’s next, eighty or ninety five is probably more to your taste huh?” She’s making fun of you and it hurts. You know she’s never approved of your taste in men but you can’t really help it. It’s not like you block out guys your age, they just don’t satisfy you. They’re mean, boring, and losers. You wanted a real man. Someone who was established in life and could take care of you.

“Whatever..” You let out softly. The cart was nearing the bottom once again and you were ready to be free of the room of gossip and judgment.

“Y/n… you know I only want what’s best for you. I mean look at what happened with Pedro and all the other men before him.” She’s sincere and you understand her point of view but you wished she would understand yours as well.

“I know Ash. It’s just a stupid crush anyways.” It was more of a reminder to yourself rather than to Ashley. She was right, you did have a habit of taking your crushes too far. You always had to try to get the guy who held your attention but you were confident in who you were. Most times it worked but a break from dating was what was best for you.

—

To apologize for being mean, Ashley was currently on the phone with some poor worker from one of Gordon Ramsay’s restaurants. She already made a reservation for tomorrow night but thought tonight would be better to cheer you up. You tried to reason with her by telling her that there were plenty of great restaurants in London we could get into tonight, but she insisted on having a very touristy dinner tonight instead of tomorrow, like it made any of a difference.

“I know the reservation is for tomorrow but miss y/l/n needs it for tonight.” Her voice is strong and unwavering, determined to get a table tonight. She’s been throwing your name around left and right hoping that someone would know who you were. It all felt too pretentious for your liking but you couldn’t control Ashley when she was like this.

You were sprawled across your hotel bed, scrolling through instagram. The voices inside your head were screaming to look at Hugh’s page, just a peak. Last night after you saw the comment, you practically threw your phone across the room, too afraid to look at it again. You're honestly thankful for that reaction because who knows how long you would have stayed awake thinking about it and diving into his life. You did make that quick google search to see just how old he was but that was the end of your exploration.

Your fingers moved faster than your brain could process, typing his name into the search bar and clicking his profile the second it popped up. You didn’t have to scroll far into his account before your heart started to race. You clicked on a mirror selfie he had posted of him in his wolverine costume with sunglasses on. The pose and the caption really showed his age but for your sick brain, it made everything about him even sexier. You cautiously swiped out of that picture to prevent an accidental like. The next picture to catch your attention was one of Hugh in the trunk of a car. Your eyes almost jump out of your face with your tongue rolling onto the ground like the cartoons. The size of his arm was insane. You weren’t one to go for muscular men, but Hugh could choke you out with that arm any time he wanted to. His smile was so dreamy. You hadn’t seen Deadpool and Wolverine yet, not really having interest before, but now you might have to take a solo trip to the movies. You were cooked.

“Thank you, I’m glad we were able to come to an agreement. Yes tonight at 8pm.” Ashley is hanging up the phone and lets out a high pitched squeal.

“How do you do that?” You’ve always been amazed at her negotiating skills and her ability to get whatever she wants.

“Natural talent..also having a famous bestie doesn’t hurt.” She giggles and checks the time. Her laughter turns to a gasp. “We have to get ready, it’s already 6pm!” She’s gathering her things and as she’s rushing out of the door, she’s telling you that she’ll be back soon to get dolled up together.

You had to learn how to style yourself over the past year of being in the limelight. Fashion was something you had been interested in but in Minden, if you dressed too out of the ordinary, people would stare. You shied away from it for longer than necessary and only recently learned how to express yourself freely thanks to your stylist, Kat. For dinner, you picked out a lengthy fitted black dress. It had the prettiest floral pattern that covered it with butterflies popping up here and there. What sold you on the dress though were the two frilly pieces of fabric that hung on either side of the dress. It was stunning and it looked even better on you. You decided on letting your hair sit in its natural state, not caring to put much effort into it.

When Ashley came tumbling back into your room, wearing a red fitted dress, the two of you put some music on and got to work. You weren’t going for a super complicated makeup look, simply deciding on a small winged eyeliner, mascara, a dark blood red lip stain, and a hint of blush. Layering a few necklaces and adding some hooped earrings, your look was almost complete. All that was left were a pair of black heels that had two strings that you effortlessly swirled around your calf tying it into a cute bow at the top.

“You look smoking hot! Let me take a picture of you.” Ashley whistles and grabs your phone to take a few shots. She was right, you looked good. You decided to post one of the pictures of your instagram story with a small caption that said ‘dinner time 😋’.

What you loved about Ashley is that she took your fame with a grain of salt most of the time. When you wanted to take an uber or taxi somewhere, she never complained. You often got tired of taking private cars everywhere, wanting a little normality when you could get it. The uber ride over was a quiet one, both of you too focused on the view outside of your own windows, soaking in the reality of being in Europe.

The restaurant was gorgeous. It wasn’t over the top fancy with normal everyday people littering the dining area, it was nice. Ashley and yourself were in quiet conversation as you looked over the menu. Feeling adventurous, you asked the waitress what she recommended and you ended up ordering the dish. Sipping on your espresso martini, you took a moment to feel grateful for the life you got to live.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Ashley is sighing with a slight roll of her eyes.

“Good evening y/n.” A voice is approaching behind you before you could question Ashleys sudden annoyance. It was a voice you recognized, hearing it the day before. You turn around to see Hugh standing behind your left shoulder and you stand up to greet him properly. You’ve gotten accustomed to hugging almost everyone you meet nowadays, you lean in without thinking.

“Oh my god! Hi Hugh.” There's a big grin on your face. It felt like a sign that you were seeing him again.

“I don’t want to bother you ladies for too long. I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi. I also wanted to apologize for bringing up Pedro yesterday, it was rude of me to do without even introducing myself first.” He lets out in his gruff voice, accent strong. His arm and yours are still interlocked in a weird side hug type of position.

“It’s totally fine, you didn’t know.” You look into his eyes with utmost sincerity. “Oh uh, this is my best friend Ashley. Ashley, this is Hugh.” He breaks the side hug to reach to shake Ashley’s hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Hugh lets out and Ashley responds with a short ‘you too.’ You give her a look that says ‘be nice’.

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair. It was really nice seeing you again sweetheart.” He smiles down at you.

“It was nice seeing you again as well.”

“Here let me.” He’s motioning to your chair. You take a seat and he's pushing it forward for you.

“Thank you.” Looking back at him with a shy smile. He gives your shoulder a squeeze of acknowledgment and he’s walking away.

“Maybe the universe does want you with a man old enough to be your grandfather. I mean what are the fucking odds of running into him at a Gordon Ramsay restaurant.” Ashley lets out in total disbelief.

You don’t say anything, you give a sly shrug instead. The rest of the dinner is tame. The food was delicious and you felt woozy from the martinis you’d been downing. Ashley let you know half way through the dinner that Hugh was sitting not to far from us and that he ‘had a fucking staring problem’, her words exactly. It made you giddy to think he was looking over here and if you begged Ashley to trade seats with you it was no one else's business. She obviously refused and you spent the rest of your time focusing on your friend, with Hugh sitting in the corner of your mind.

When you got back to the hotel, you immediately stripped yourself from your heels and dress. Laying in the bed in nothing but your undergarments, you opened instagram and took a look at your story one more time, wanting to see just how good you looked. It was shallow for sure but it made you feel good. You saw the hearts flooding the bottom of the screen and decided to swipe up to see who had liked it. As you scrolled nothing really caught your attention until that name caught your eye again.

“I recognized your dress and wanted to come say hi.”

What the actual fuck.

thank you for reading <3

part three

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre

I think I got everyone tagged that asked to be! If you want to be added/removed let me know. <3

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x popstar!reader #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x y/n #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman fandom #CYG #Controversially Young Girlfriend #popstar!reader

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 months ago

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hi babe, how are you? i hope you're fine❤️. idk if you are accepting requests but i really would like to make one. I've been thinking about this a lot and, as I've been following and admiring your stories for a few years, I wanted it to come from you. You could do an imagine where Harry falls in love with a woman who has a very young daughter, around 5 years old. It took him a few months to meet her because Y/N knew that the little girl hadn't yet accepted her parents' breakup and that's why the last two attempts at dating had gone wrong, she had already given up trying until she met Harry. So he tries to win the little girl over from the beginning because he really likes Y/N and won't give up on her so easily. thank you in advance❤️

A/N: i haven't taken any requests in a long while, but i wanted to write something short but sweet so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Sitting on the bottom of the stairs Harry can still hear Y/N’s soft murmur coming from Evie’s room, the bedtime story has been going on for over twenty minutes now, but he doesn’t mind the waiting. If it takes hours, he will still be here, waiting for Y/N to return and even if she asks him to leave, it would still be worth it, just to kiss her goodbye and head home. Any minute he gets to spend with her is worth the wait.

Tonight has been special, something he’s been looking forward to since their second date when she told him she has a daughter. He still remembers how hesitant and closed-off he seemed when she talked about Evie, because she was scared of his reaction, that he would think of her differently just because she is a mother.

But it didn’t change a thing. He just realized he had even more respect for her.

It’s been three months since that conversation and he waited patiently for her to offer him to meet Evie, he wanted it to happen on her terms. Tonight was that time finally.

He came over to her place and they baked cookies together and watched Frozen, Evie’s favorite movie. Harry came prepared, he brought her a gift and tried his best to win the little girl over, which happened quite fast.

Or at least the moment he started singing Let It Go with her.

Y/N has told him about her last two attempts at dating, it took her quite some time to build up the courage to meet new people after his divorce and it was especially hard for her, because Evie was just two at that time. She dated two guys, both of them turned her down because they couldn’t deal with her being a single mother. One of them didn’t even have the gut to tell her straight to her face, he just ghosted her.

It angers Harry so much that she was treated this way, because she deserves the world. But at least now he gets to be the person to give her it all.

He hears the door to Evie’s room open and close softly and a moment later she sits beside him on the stairs. Instantly, his arm comes around her figure, tugging her to his side.

“Sorry it took so long.”

“Don’t apologize.” He places a kiss to the top of her head and his heart skips a beat when she snuggles even closer to him.

They sit in comfortable silence and Harry knows she is probably overthinking everything that happened tonight, not in the right way.

“Evie is amazing,” he says.

“You think so?”

“Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for letting me get to know her.”

She lifts her head and looks him in the eyes, that’s when he sees the tears in hers.

“So it’s not too much?” He takes her face in his hands and then kisses her gently.

“Nothing about you will ever be too much, Y/N.”

She sighs in relief, as if she’s been carrying a weight all along that’s been lifted off her shoulders.

“Do you want to… stay the night?” she whispers against his lips.

“I would love to.”

“Even if Evie will barge into my room around six in the morning probably?”

“Now I want to stay even more,” he chuckles lightly.

***

Y/N wakes slowly and lazily, turning from one side to the other, her hand reaching out on the bed, looking for Harry, but she finds nothing, but the pillow he slept on. His absence wakes her more abruptly, searching for him with her eyes, but she sees no sight of him in the room. With a hammering heart she sits up and holds the sheets to her chest as her thoughts start racing, thinking about Harry sneaking out sometime in the middle of the night.

Her throat starts to close up as she spirals into the thought of another failed dating attempt, but this one hurts so much more than the previous ones, she trusted him… she loved him… yet he left her.

Then she hears Evie’s laughter, coming from downstairs. And another voice.

Harry’s.

She jumps out of bed and puts on her robe before rushing downstairs, finding her little girl in the kitchen with none other than Harry making… pancakes?

“Mommy!” Evie cheers when she sees her, jumping off the stool she uses to reach the counter. She runs up to Y/N and hugs her tightly.

“Hi Honey, what’s going on?” she asks, but the question is addressed more to Harry rather than to Evie.

“We’re making pancakes!” she answers with excitement.

“I hope it’s okay,” Harry adds shyly, holding the spatula in his hand. “She came into the bedroom, but you didn’t wake up so I thought… I could let you rest a bit more while we make breakfast.”

It’s such a small gesture, but it’s been quite long since the last time someone did something for her. Being a single parent means doing everything herself and to be honest, her ex-husband wasn’t much of a help around the house in the last year or so in their marriage.

This was Harry’s first time staying over and he already feels like part of their household.

As Evie climbs back onto the stool and starts stirring the pancake mixture Y/N can’t stop herself from wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist and kissing him.

“It’s… more than okay. It’s everything,” she whispers against his lips before stealing another quick kiss.

They finish making breakfast and then eat together. Then Y/N sends Evie to the bathroom to clean herself up while she and Harry clean the table.

“Listen, I don’t want you to feel like you have to–” she starts, but she is cut off quickly.

“Like I have to do all these extra things for you and Evie?” Harry asks with a tiny smirk as they start loading the washer. “First of all, I did nothing extra. This is pretty much the bare minimum, caring for others, sharing the tasks. This is what partners do.” She lets out an airy chuckle before he continues. “Second… I would do anything for you. And Evie as well. I know I just met her, but…” Taking a deep breath he straightens up and waits for Y/N to do the same. “I love you. Everything about you and everything that’s part of you and Evie is part of you. She is wonderful and I know you’re afraid I might see her as a burden which comes from your experiences with assholes, but it’s not happening with me. Alright?”

“You promise?” she asks in a whisper, tears dwelling in her eyes. He steps closer to her, taking her face between his palms.

“Promise,” he answers and kisses her softly.

“By the way, I love you too,” she says with a small chuckle. “Yeah, I heard your L bomb.”

“I did drop the L bomb, yeah,” he grins and just when he is about to go in for another kiss Evie runs out to them.

“I’m done! What are we doing today? Harry, are you staying?”

“Well, do you want me to stay?” he asks, smiling down at her.

“Yes!”

“Then,” he starts, turning his gaze back at Y/N. “Yes. I’m staying.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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cryboutbueckers · 1 month ago

Text

𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙘𝙚.

parings: toxic!paige x reader, cheater!paige x reader, sub!paige x dom!reader.

summary: in which you show paige you done playing with her.

warnings: cursing, smacking, nsfw content, a little bit of angst.

a/n: hey ya’ll i hope you guys like this, this is intended for black readers but anyone can read, lmk how i did!!

….

you were absolutely furious with paige, it’s currently 1 in the morning and she’s still not at home, you’ve checked her location and of course it was off. you’ve called, texted her multiple times only to be left on read, or delivered.

paige where u at?

read at 11:59pm.

so u jus gonna leave me on read???

read at 12:02am.

baby come home, please.

read at 12:20am.

paige, please.

read at 12:30am.

bet.

delivered.

you were in disbelief, you constantly begged this woman to do better, it was always a “im sorry baby, ur the only one i want and need.” and you always fell for if, fell for her tricks, and you’re sick of her bullshit. it’s currently 1:20am, your in a robe, a pink bonnet, and your cow slippers paige had bought you for christmas.

you walk downstairs, going to sit down on the couch deciding you were gonna wait for her to come in the house, so she could explain herself, hoping she really wasn’t doing what you think she’s doing, you love paige with all your heart, you two have been together for 2 years, did everything and anything with each other, your in love with paige, you cant help but fall for her silly tricks she plays on you, telling you everything you wanted to hear to get you right back where she wanted you to be.

an hour has passed by, as your on the couch damn near half asleep. you open your eyes looking next to you on the couch as you grab your phone tapping the screen twice so it could come on, it was 2am and she still wasn’t home. you sigh, throwing your phone across the couch in frustration as you sit there, overthinking filling your mind.

20 minutes pass by as your once again half asleep on the couch eyes opening up fully as you hear the front door open, it was her. your pissed, fuming actually, but she just looked so good it was almost hard to be mad at the woman. her dirty blonde hair was sleeked back into a low bun, as she had on a black essentials hoodie with baggy jeans, and jordan retro 5’s. her cologne filled the aroma, with a hint of perfume, your heart dropped.

“and so where the fuck you been at? i know you been seeing me blow your phone up dude.” you say sitting up from the couch, looking right directly at the tall blonde, only for her to walk past you completely ignoring you as she walks towards the stairs. you stomp your way over to her, aggressively turning her towards you. “you don’t hear me talkin to you?? you got some damn nerve coming home at 2am just to ignore me paige.”

the tall woman shrugs, “i been out with kk and the rest of the team, you know this y/n quit bitchin at me.” your heartbeat increases, eyes widening “bitchin? i been blowing your phone up for what 3 hours and get no response and then you have the audacity to walk in here and what ignore me?? u take me for a joke bueckers???”

the blonde tries to keep herself from laughing at the usage of her last name coming from your mouth as she speaks “listen baby ian say tha-“ you cut her off by raising your hand, landing a loud painful slap to her cheek. your so mad the stinging in your hand didn’t really bother you until you realized what you just did, you just put your hands on paige.

you look down at your hands, eyes widening as you look down at the woman who’s now sitting down on one of the steps on the stairs, looking up at you holding her cheek. you felt bad, really bad actually. but you needed to make your point. “you slapped me…” your heart beat increases even more as she finally spoke after what you just did.

“i did..” you look to the side slightly nervous, before looking back down at the blonde. “you can’t take that shit back y/n” she stands up, her figure towering over you, making you take a step back to avoid touching her.

paige was tall, not super tall but she was tall. standing at 6’0, all that tallness containing of pure muscle coming from her, meanwhile you only being 5’4, she definitely felt like she had some authority over you because of how bigger she was compared to you.

“and what makes you think i wanna take that shit back paige? you deserve that slap, for all the dumbass shit you’ve been me through these 2 years paige. TWO FUCKING YEARS PAIGE, you better listen to what the fuck i gotta say to your dumbass, that’s the least you could fucking do.” you shove her causing her to tumble a little back onto the stairs, sitting right back where she was before.

all she could do was stare at you, her face written with a shocked expression, sure you’ve yelled at her before but you never ever put your hands on her, you disrespected her. she couldn’t even fight back or anything but listen to you. “two fucking years paige, TWO LONG ASS YEARS WITH YOU.” your so close to her, spit was getting on her face from you yelling. “two fucking years, of you playing in my face, with the same bitch paige! the bitch not even cute.”

and again, all she could do was stare at you with those blue eyes of hers. your confidence you had made her wet, really wet. normally she was the one yelling at people, getting all in their faces, especially on the court. “are you even fucking hearing what im saying to you?” you look at her breathing hard as your breath hitches at what she says next.

“do somethin about it” what? is she playing? “w-what?” you lean back to take a full look at her. her eyes were signaling you something, she wanted something, you just couldn’t figure it out what it is. “you heard me, do somethin about it since you so mad” you raised your eyebrows as you grinned, all hell was about to break loose, and that’s how yall were here now.

you had her on the bed, her clothes long gone scattered around the room as she laid beneath you vulnerable. her legs were pressed up against her chest, fucking her with your (𝙝𝙚𝙧) purple strap. it had a good length to it, maybe almost to much for paige knowing its been a minute since she’s been like this, but you didn’t care, not at all right now.

her eyes were trying to stay present, threatening to roll back as you touched the most deepest parts in her, giving her no mercy as you pounded into her with every single thing you had left in you.

“p-please baby i cant no more” her hand pressing against your lower stomach trying to pull you out some, scoffing as you slap her hand away from you “you think i care about what u cant take paige? you didn’t care when you was out, ignoring me.” your words bringing back a familiar frustration within you.

all of a sudden, you put her legs on your shoulders thrusting back into her, she moans loudly at the new position, you getting impossibly deeper. she felt like she was about to explode. “m finna cum y/n~ p-please~” she looks up at you with her large blue eyes, her cheeks flushed red & her sleek back bun now messed up.

“you think you deserve to cum paige?, hm?” your hand slips down to rub fast circles on her clit sending her over the edge, toes curling over your shoulders. she lets out a scream/moan from the pleasure as her legs start to shake, you knew she was about to cum.

“and you better hold that shit” you remove the strap from her, replacing them with two of your fingers, curling them up to her special spot. your fingers moved hard against her walls you could hear them.

“ohhh fuckkk i cant i cant~ please ma” tears dropping down her face as she looks up at you, giving you desperate eyes. “you done playing with me?” you continue your brutal pace with your fingers, giving her direct eye contact. she’s to caught up with moaning, her eyes rolled back all the way back to her skull. “i said are you done playing paige” you use your other hand to slap her clit, immediately catching her attention as she twitches beneath you.

“yes m done playing i-i swear baby” she pants up at you. you grin looking down at her for a moment before finally letting her have a release.

“cum”, that was all she needed to hear before letting out a loud pornographic-like moan before squirting all over your fingers. “oh my fuck!”

“yea thats what i thought, dont ever play again.”

a/n: clearly im a beginner don’t judge to hard ya’ll🥲, i got sloppy at the end my bad for thattt, but i hope yall like it for the most part.

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x black reader #uconn x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x black!reader #sub!paige bueckers x reader

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seungfl0wer · 7 months ago

Text

Jeongin As Your Boyfriend

Contains Smut 🩷

-🩵

•I feel like he’s very nervous, especially at first.

•Constantly checking on you making sure anything he does is ok.

•Like kissing. He’s gonna ask you if “it’s ok” to kiss you.

•Because he’s afraid of making you uncomfortable.

•When y’all get past that phase he’s still asking sometimes however he goes for it more often than not.

•He’s not super big into skin ship.

•However that does not mean he’s not ever gonna touch you of course.

•Holding hands is his favorite.

•Or wrapping his arms around you in a back hug.

•He’s not into PDA so if you try to kiss him around the others.

•He’s gonna turn bright red.

•He’s very reserved in my opinion.

•I feel like since he likes fashion so much he’d honestly like those couple outfits.

•Not the “I love my boyfriend” shirts.

•But like same color shirts and stuff just simple cute couple fits.

•Will have you in his OOTD’s especially when y’all matching.

•Absolutely loves seeing you in his clothes too.

•Ugh it just melts him. Finds it so endearing.

•Has a playlist of songs that remind him of you.

•Loves taking you to different places with him so you can experience them with him.

•Teases you of course.

•However he’s very mindful and sometimes can overthink what he says.

•He’s just afraid of hurting your feelings.

•Cuddles.

•Like I said he’s not a big touchy person however.

•When you’re sleeping he’s pulling you so close.

•Tells you all the time how it’s hard to sleep without you.

•Sings trots songs for you.

•Likes karaoke dates a lot too.

•Will definitely send you pictures of their concepts before it’s out.

•He can’t keep things from you.

•It’s really hard for him to keep secrets even if it’s something like a present or surprise.

•He just tells you everything so it’s hard for him not to tell you these exciting things.

•Clumsy.

•You joke how you need to put him in a bubble.

•Or bubble wrap the house at least.

•He loves taking pictures of you too.

•Changes his background so much cause he takes such cute pictures of you.

•No matter how long y’all date for he’s still smiling when he sees your name pop up on his phone.

•Even old and grey he’s still all giddy with you cause he loves you.

•I feel like after he lets his wall down he falls really hard.

•His love is so very genuine.

•He’s just a soft guy under those fox eyes, whose only mission is to make you smile.

•To make you happy and to feel loved and he’ll always be there to do so.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•Again this man’s still a bit nervous.

•He lets you take the lead a lot.

•But when he gets comfortable you’ll see the real jeongin.

•He’s very much a switch.

•Loves when you take care of him.

•Calling him your “Sweet baby” makes him go crazy.

•Whimpers so much when he’s like this.

•”I’ve been so good for you please-“

•Morning blow jobs to wake him up.

•Lazy morning sex too.

•You’re still half asleep when he’s pushing himself between your legs.

•His head in the crook of your neck whimpering how he “needs you so much”

•When you respond he’s losing it.

•Lubing you up before pushing into your sweetness.

•On the other hand he can be very aggressive.

•A lot of the times it’s when he’s stressed.

•He’ll have you face down as up as he pounds deep into you.

•Those big beautiful hands leaving hand prints on your ass.

•Loves sneaking you into the dorms.

•Telling you how you “have to stay quiet”

•Gets off on the thought of the others hearing how good he’s making you feel.

•Also those hands I mentioned?

•The way he pushes them into your sweet hole it just-

•He curls them so perfectly hitting every sweet spot.

•He knows how much you like his pretty hands.

•Teases you about how you fall apart on them.

•Aftercare is a lot for him.

•He is always concerned he hurt you or pushed you too far.

•Constant “are you ok?”

•Runs to grab you towels, snacks and drinks.

•Just wants to make sure you’re completely ok.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something

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ooooo-mcyt · 6 months ago

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"Scar and Grian make each other worse-" actually they help each other be happier and stronger.

Grian helps Scar realize he doesn't always have to be alone.

Scar tends to end up isolated. Sure, he's friendly and charismatic, but oftentimes he ends up alone. Sometimes because of pure fate, but also, even though he desires company, often he ends up establishing himself as an independent isolated entity on the server, and he can really get it into his head (whether its true or not) that nobody else can be relied on long term (which can also lead to him being flighty and dishonest at times).

Grian has a way of shaking that up. In Thirdlife when he was the only ally Scar couldn't betray, in Doublelife when he went and got Scar and insisted on basing together, in Secretlife when Scar spent a day alone and stressed and Grian showed up to understand exactly what was wrong and offer him company ("why don't you come with me?")

(grian was there at the end of secretlife too. scar standing confused and alone. "she's dead, scar, you won". it's not much, but no other winner can say they had the luxury of hearing any voice other than their own after dealing that final blow. even in the isolation of being the only man left alive, scar doesn't have to be alone.)

It goes the other way too. Scar helps Grian realize he doesn't always have to overthink so much.

Grian has always had a massive guilt complex. He's usually no more mischievous, selfish, or ruthless than some of the other players on the server, and yet Grian is disproportionately likely to overthink and beat himself up over things. Swearing himself into servitude after accidentally killing Scar, apologizing again and again for many of the fights he does take and scolding himself for his weakness when he doesn't take a fight, (incorrectly) convincing himself he's personally responsible for the server hating them in Double Life.

Scar is good at putting a stop to the overthinking. He'll give Grian excuses, absolution if that's what Grian needs. You can say Scar egging Grian on to commit chaos is a bad thing, but I think it's undoubtedly a positive when Scar gets Grian to stop lingering over things so much. This is a death game, sometimes you kill someone, sometimes you burn something, sometimes you make a mistake. Grian can't control everything, nor is it always his fault when something goes wrong, and Scar is very good at encouraging Grian when he's uncertain and distracting Grian when he feels bad.

You can say they "make each other worse", but I think they make each other happier and help each other stop lingering on their doubts and self destructive tendencies so much when they're together.

#trafficblr #traffic smp #grian #goodtimeswithscar #desert duo

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tatoda · 2 years ago

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Wanting You || conrad fisher x fem!reader

masterlist

request

summary: you get a call and it happens to be your drunk boyfriend just wanting your love and attention

pairing: conrad fisher x reader

warnings: stressed conrad and mostly just fluff

wc: 800 (i think)

put some drunk conrad in to help with the storyline!! not majority edited just wanted to get this out

It was supposed to be a boy's night. To drink and talk about sports or just hang out in general. But here conrad was, looking at your pictures on his phone showing the guys around him. Even if they were at a party where there were over 100 people, you were still the first thing on his mind.

“she’s just so pretty guys,” he told steven and jeremiah who were sipping on beers

“oh we know, for how much you talk about her.” jere muttered over his drink

“man, as much as i love how you’re in love with my sister, but please spare all details.” steven rolled his eyes

“she’s just so sweet, she’s helped me with so much. like that one time she snuck me into your house because i missed her and my roommate was having sex,” he admitted

“oh god! you snuck into our house. if laurel ever hears this you’re dead meat.” steven leaned forward

“relax steve, i’ll have you know your mom likes me too much.” conrad took a sip of his beer when he should have stopped drinking for a while now “i miss her.”

“he’s so whipped.” jere laughed watching his brother be lovesick for you

“do you think she will answer if i call her?” his eyes lit up

“she’s probably sleeping.” steven looked over his shoulder to the crowd of people spotting taylor dancing with some of the volleyball girls

“just make your move already.” jeremiah pointed out

“you know belly would absolutely murder me if i touched her best friend.” steven sighed and looked away

“hey! look at me man.” conrad put a hand on his shoulder “you haven’t murdered me yet.” he smiled

“that’s because i’m building up to it.” conrad shook his head

“i’m gonna call her, i miss her.”

“dude-“ it was too late he already clicked your contact.

Meanwhile, you were on your bed watching netflix and having a self-care night. With conrad with the guys, you felt like he needed to get out of the apartment they all shared because all they did was play video games and sleep. Your phone rang on the comforter causing you to jump not expecting any calls. You turned the phone seeing conrad’s name on the screen.

“hey.” you paused your show leaning back on the pillows

“hi baby.” he slurred. this wasn’t the first time occurrence he’s called you drunk, you soon found out he was clingy and wanted your attention when drunk

“hey you, how’s the boy's night?” he sighed on the other side of the phone

“it’s good, it’s good. i wanted to call and say i miss you, like a lot.”

“you just saw me yesterday dummy.” you laughed into the phone

“i just really love you.” your heart fluttered as he said the words, you don’t usually say it because it meant a lot to the both of you with what happened to your parents

“can you do me a favor baby?” he hummed on the other side “can i talk to my brother really quick?”

“yeah! here, steven she wants to talk to you.” you heard him hand the phone over

“hey sis.”

“hey can i come get him? i think he’s had enough and i know he’s gonna want me to come get him soon enough.”

“oh yeah please,”

“thank you for taking him out tonight, i know he’s stressed with everything with adam and everything.”

“no yeah i understand, see you soon.” the phone was pulled away from him and back in the hands of your boyfriend

“hey lover.” he chuckled “i’m gonna a come get you okay?”

“yeah, thats sounds good.” you knew after a while he would start overthinking and then the stress would come back

“just stay with the guys and no more drinking, okay?”

“okay, see you soon baby.” you both hung up and you got out of bed

The drive over to the house was over 20 minutes. But you didn’t mind you wanted to see conrad. There has been a lot of stuff going on recently with his dad. you knew their relationship wasn’t the greatest and it really got to him sometimes.

You parked the car in search of your boyfriend. Steven texted you saying they were in the backyard in some chairs, and you saw the back of your boyfriend's head as he talked to the boys in front of him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulder and leaned your head down on his shoulder.

“i have a girlfriend!” his head snapped and he relaxed seeing it was you “oh. sorry.”

“that’s okay, you ready to go?” he nodded “you boys have a ride back?” you looked towards jere and steven

“yeah, taylor said she would take us.” you smiled at steven “when are you gonna ask her out?” conrad moved his arms to rub against yours that were draped over him

“chill, i just don’t wanna upset belly.”

“for fucks sake i’m dating your best friend and you didn’t beat me up.”

“told you.” conrad muttered

“this is different.” he sighed rubbing his face

“it’s not really.” conrad moved to lay his head on your arm giving you the signal it was time to go “just do something at least, con and i are gonna head out.” you pulled your hands away and the man stood from his seat “ready.” he nodded taking your hand in his “be safe tonight, call me if you need anything.”

As you drove home, conrad kept a hand on your thigh but he didn’t say anything and you knew the quietness and depression were slowly coming back from the side effects of his drinking. The whole ride was quiet up until you made it into your room closing the door facing him.

“come here con.” he walked towards you slowly and dipped his head into to crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around you “let’s sleep okay?” he nodded but didn’t let go “con?”

“hm?”

“let’s lay down handsome.” he stepped away from you and you helped him take off his shirt as he slipped out of his jeans left in his boxers and slid into bed “ill be right back, going to get you water.”

“okay.” he softly spoke into the pillow he was laying on

Walking downstairs your mom was also grabbing a midnight snack. She knew he would come over and she also knew he was going through a lot in your 2 years together.

“how is he?” she leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to grab a water bottle

“it’s a lot, he won’t really talk to me about some of it and i understand.”

“you’re a great girlfriend for him. susannah always loved the thought of you two together.” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it “speaking of conrad.” she nodded behind you, turning around you saw your boyfriend standing at the end of the stairs

“hey, what’s wrong?” you walked towards him

“you left me for a long time.” he rubbed his eyes and you smiled

“come on you big baby, good night mom.”

“night laurel.” conrad muttered

“night kids.” you could hear the humor in her voice

Back up in your room you were both now in bed with the light of the tv shining on the both of you. Conrad’s eyes drifted but he just stared at you.

“can i cuddle you?” he asked softly

“you don’t need to ask.” he moved closer to you hugging you to him, his head on your shoulder and you moved your hand to run though his hair “con?”

“yeah?” you moved to look at him and leaned down to kiss him for the first time that night

“i love you.” he smiled genuinely the first time since you saw him

“i love you.” he closed his eyes and kissed your neck

Soon enough his soft snoring filled the room as you continued to watch your show until you followed him into the dream state.

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #tsitp #prime video #conrad fisher x fem!reader #the summer i turned pretty season 2 #conrad fisher one shot #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x you #conrad x reader #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher smut

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axetivev · 1 month ago

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🌹 Love of My Life...

~ Summary : Jason and Y/N have been dating for 3 years. Others might say it's rushed. But Jason has other plans on their date other than being a simple "Valentine's".

~ Warnings/Genre : Fluff! (No spoilers for you~!)

~ Words : 749

~ A/N : This is the first fic for the Valentine's special! I forget if I've mentioned it. But hey, Jason fans—nations. Enjoy this fic!! And also. Happy Valentines day!!

~ Pairing : Jason Todd x Male!Reader.

Click here for Dick Valentine's!

Y/N, a male who was known to be outgoing, maybe a little now and then he absolutely despise talking with people and easily anxious. But hey, he’s still a great guy! Unlike his… boyfriend, his boyfriend of 3 years. Jason Todd who never enjoy talking with people, it irritats him if someone looked at him—his old visible wounds showing thanks to his traumatizing past. The way people would look at him with pity annoys the living hell out of him.

But Y/N isn’t that type, he was rather understanding. He wouldn’t and never forced Jason to do something he hates. And Jason knew that everything was alright if Y/N was around, and he would hold his hand like he was a fragile being, loving Y/N with everything he has. Don’t forget to mention the fact that Jason loved to spoil his lover.

Y/N could just laying on bed, in Jason’s apartment. Scrolling through his phone to find a book. Marking it as favorite and the next morning? Boom! The book was right in front of his house when he didn’t came to Jason’s place. He simply wanted to spoil him if he had the money.

Even one time, on Valentine’s day, Friday. The couple went to an arcade. Filled by endless machines of toys and some of the visitors gasping seeing Jason, the second adoptive child of Bruce Wayne who randomly came into an arcade with a red hoodie and army colored pants. While Y/N, his boyfriend, wearing a white shirt, gray pants and some accessories of course Jason brought for him. And their height difference is quite surprising side by side, but to those aside. Both men were having fun playing some games. Even getting two huge bear plushies, one with black hair with a streak of white while the other is just Y/N’s hair color. They’ll walk together around the mall while again, people looking at them. Jason held the teddies even after Y/N offered to carry them. This sight obviously made Y/N worried.

“I don’t want you to carry them… people might thought I’m a gold digger!” Y/N exclaimed with his voice barely a whisper. Looking at Jason who just smirked.

“Oh c’mon babe, out of everything you worried about that? You’re such an overthinker, my handsomely cute overthinker.” Jason teased, which made Y/N blushed, but before he could continue. Jason added. “How about dinner? It’s on me.”

At the end, they were eating in a fancy restaurant. Seriously! This man needs to stop, but who would? His family already told him to but it. It didn’t worked, never worked actually. He would literally use the whole universe’s money to spoil his boyfriend, honestly. He doesn’t care.

“Ah, babe… I have a surprise for you.” Jason broke the silence between them with a smirk, oh boy. Y/N could feel something could go wrong.

“And what would it be?” He asked, pausing cutting his steak mid-air, he raised an eyebrow with suspicion. But before a word came out, Jason pushed a small red box to the table. Y/N heart stopped for a split second.

With trembling hands, Y/N slowly opened the box, his face immediately flushed red. Not from embarrassment or his anxiety, he covered his face while the diamond on the ring shined brightly. Blinding his eyes from years of love.

“Y’know, people said Valentine’s day is a special day for love. So; would you marry me, Y/N L/N?” Jason proposed.

Y/N swallowed a lump of his throat, peaking between his fingers, he said a silent—yes. Thought Jason could hear it. Why not tease him?

“What’s that? C’mon darling. Say it louder~”

“You damn bastard… I said yes!!”

Well, since Jason booked the restaurant exclusively for them two, the staff from the distance cried while quietly clapping their hands, Jason rose from his seat. Placing his hand on the back of Y/N head, of course he hesitated for a moment, but soon stood up. Jason then captured his lips to a deep kiss, while his arm around the other male’s waist. Refusing to let go of the kiss. It felt… magical and intimate. Very, honestly. Even after the many moments they have kissed, But eventually, their lips parted, Jason rest his head against Y/N’s forehead, his face slightly flushed while Y/N is basically red as an tomato.

“I love you so much, Y/N Todd.”

“I…I love you too, Todd.”

And the night after the date? Is just filled by endless love making inside of Jason’s apartment.

#jason todd #jason todd x male reader #dcu #dcu x reader #male reader #x male reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x male reader

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cheriden · 8 months ago

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「 my "i love you" 」 | pt. 2 。。。

He maneuvers to block your path, grip on your arms bordering painful. “I love you–”

“You’re drunk.” You hiss, nails digging into his shoulders as you drag him to the front door. “You don’t even want to hear what I have to say?” Huffing, you gather his things together and shove them to his chest.

── synopsis 。Your best friend with benefits seeks clarity on your relationship

pairing 。switch!top choi beomgyu x f! reader

.ᐟ genre 。angst, smut, fluff

.ᐟ tags 。fwb to lovers, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), overstimulation, arguing, pet names, frotting, a lot of kissing, breeding, idk what else

.ᐟ status & word count 。two-parts | 3.54k

part 1 | part 2

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。not proofread, sorry this took so long. enjoy!

Droplets fall rapidly against your windowsill, thunder clapping when the lightning’s glow hits Beomgyu’s face—highly alluring as his muddy puppy eyes drown in yours so intensely, so vast.

It makes you feel like absolute shit.

Your stomach bubbles over as you wrap your hands around his, retracting them from its hold on your face. It’s heavier without it. He looks at you in concern, confused at your end goal.

He’s patient, oh so patient. It almost makes you seethe with anger at how much he still doesn’t understand. Giving up with a sigh, you look away from him. “Is that any better?”

Beomgyu observes you with knitted brows, trying to come up with a solution and an answer as if it were a math equation. “I don’t,” cutting himself off, he blinks frantically, looking for the right thing to say. “Why are we even here then? You wanted it in the first place!”

You don’t have an answer. The only plausible one would be to tell him that it’s because you love him, how much pain it brings you to continue going on like this with someone who doesn’t feel the same, how sad it leaves you when he walks out the door.

You swear as you pick up and put on the pile of clothes strewn on the floor, frustrated at all of the sudden rush of emotions that make you answer in blunt, meaningless venom. “I was bored and horny months ago. Now I don’t want any of this.” The brunette’s face is laced with hurt, chest huffing and nostrils flaring. “I’m not your personal vibrator. You can’t just boss me around or order me whenever you need me.” Hands reaching to massage your temples, you hiss, “I never asked you to be any of that! You—”

“I’m just a glorified dildo to you. That’s all you ever call me for anyway.” Scoffing, you storm off into the bathroom, washing yourself off the filth on your hands, on your arms. “I’m just a pocket pussy to you!” You scream back, “Don’t think you’re on the losing end here.”

“How lucky of me,” He fires back, stomping into the foyer. “You’re such an asshole. Don’t even text me.” He hurriedly ties his laces, more or less falling over himself as he takes his anger out on the doorknob. “I wasn’t planning to, prick!.” He shoves a middle finger up into your face, one last gesture before he’s slamming the door, sound echoing through the hollow apartment.

The weather doesn’t cease, quite the opposite. Precipitate thuds and crashes heavily, thunder roaring as the lightning halfway blinds you from how close it is. On the ground is Beomgyu’s brown automatic umbrella, still wet from earlier. You palm its button, taking a long breath, unlocking your door.

Looking around, almost everything is shrouded in rain and fog. You hold tightly onto the umbrella, wind howling prior to it nearly knocking you back along with it. You don’t see him, don’t know which direction he went.

You curse at yourself for not knowing, you curse at Beomgyu for leaving. You beat yourself up for being too big of a pussy to actually say something, anything helpful to him.

The umbrella finds itself useless, tears streaming down your face. With drenched clothes and wet slippers, you trudge back into your apartment and overthink yourself to sleep on the couch.

You’re pathetic. Really pathetic. But maybe it’s just the flu making you extra emotional. Sobbing into your blankets, it doubles as a makeshift tissue box—burrowing your red, inflamed nose against it. It’s gross, and you should really go to bed, but your friends said they’d swing by to drop something off at your place; something to make you feel better.

As you answer the door, you take in the irony— the latter phrase couldn’t be more wrong. He’s here, a few inches away from your grasp, but he’s here. He’s drunk and blinking very hard in hopes that he can gain balance, but he’s here.

Beomgyu raises the bag of warm food in a translucent plastic bag, waving it in front of your face. Not really sure what to say anymore, you move away from the door to let him in. He rambles about the empty cupboards and kitchen counters—setting down the insulated tupperwares he brought. A fog of vapor releases into the air when he opens one of them. It’s tempting, and you’re really sick and really tired, not to mention hungry. Regardless, you stand your ground; if staring at him waiting for him to explain counts. He apologizes, says he’s been busy; though you already knew that. He knows you know, knows he’s just filling awkward space. The both of you just wait for each other to say something. A tired drunk versus a tired sick person who’s sort of drunk on cough syrup. “Your umbrella is by the doorframe.” The look on his face says he’s unsure what to make of that. Were you just stating a fact? Did you think it’s what he came for? Or did you want him to leave so badly? His breathing is shaky, anxiety catching up to him as he busies himself with the take-out. “I can buy another one any day,” He lies through his teeth. You know, because he’s treasured it and it’s brown bear print since the day you met. “I heard the others say you were sick, and I came.”

“You stopped your drinking session to come visit me?” It’s earnest curiosity, mixed with a hint of attitude. “I stopped by to check on you, I was worried about you–us.” An eyebrow raises as you watch the other shift stiffly in his seat. “Us?” His gaze backs down, palming the back of his neck. “Yeah, us. We left things on a weird note last time.” Head spinning, you slouch into one of the chairs. “Beoms,” He lights up at the acknowledgement, deflating once he sees the concerned look on your face. “I’m really tired, I think you should leave. I’ll pay you back for the food some other time.”

Without warning, he springs across the table, clutching your face and pressing down hard on your lips. His teeth gnash against your unmoving ones, frantic to get you moving. When you do, it’s a shove to his shoulders, causing him to stumble backwards. “Beomgyu, what the fuck?” The brunette winces at your tone, panicking when you get up to back away from him. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Yeah and eating my face off is part of the plan?” You retort, shaking off the wrist that holds you in place. “I know I’m sorry!” He maneuvers to block your path, grip on your arms bordering painful. “I love you–”

You want to be mad. You want to curse him out for everything he’s unknowingly put you through, but when you see his face, so remorseful and full of hurt and you remember how it’s not even his fault. “Get your shit together. Call me when you're sober and I’m not on cough syrup; so we can both think clearly.” Eager is an understatement, immediately nodding as he drops all his things to drape his arms around you. He hugs as if he’s afraid of how you’d look at him when you part, as if separating from you would be so wrong it was almost inhuman. Still, he detaches himself. “Okay.”

You think you’ve been standing outside his apartment complex for about twenty minutes. Anxiety eats away at your stomach acid, tapping your foot on the ground as you stare at Beomgyu’s last message.

It’s the right place, same structure on maps and easy to find, though maybe you’re trying to come up with a reason not to push through with this. You didn’t even know he transferred buildings, taken by surprise at the random notification that pinged your phone at three in the morning. After viewing it, the confrontation with him plagued your mind, scenarios running wildly in your head as you overthink every possible outcome.

A shy smile graces Beomgyu’s face when he lets you in, easing the apprehension a little. The area is cluttered with all types of trinkets and memorabilia from him and his roommates, though you can see how his stands out to you the most. There’s a cute wall full of photo strips from all of his friends, though none containing you had caught your eye. The unease makes its way back to you, gulping down as he guides you across the studio, passing the living area and miscellaneous doors. “I’ll get you something to drink. You can just sit on the bed–or on the floor, or–it doesn’t really matter.” With that he leaves, and you’re greeted by a plethora of mixed ornaments: A few instruments lazily strewn against the walls and racks, study desk devoid of any actual study material—replaced by a new curved flatscreen for his desktop, posters for different genres of music and fiction neatly arranged on one wall.

You stop to inspect the cork board behind the monitor; a few photos of the two of you taped and pinned along with random receipts and to-do lists. Your heart sinks a little, recalling the abrupt confession from nearly a week ago. You know what he said, but it’s best not to get your hopes up, you’re his closest friend after all. Beomgyu kicks the door open with mild force, startling you. He huffs out a chuckle, “I don’t actually have anything, so I just got us water.” With a nod, you flump onto the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs. For a while, the two of you just sit there, staring at each other. Your eyes bare into his, cheeks flaring up as collateral as he blurts out, “I meant it. Everything I said the other night.” You set the glass slowly onto the nightstand, shifting up the bed. The brunette mimics your actions, making sure you don’t run away or divert away from him. “I think you’re confused, Gyu.” His lids shut in frustration, gnawing back a portion of his cheeks. “No you don’t–” You cut him off, rambling. “It’s my fault, ever since I asked you to sleep with me we’ve been blurring the lines a bit too far.”

He charges at you, palm clasped over your face. “You’re not listening to me.” Through muffled protests, you exclaim, “But–” Another hand pushes you against the headboard, “You never listen to me. All you do is make assumptions about how I feel and how it’s affecting me when you don’t even let me speak for myself. I told you I love you and you shut me up, like you’re telling me how I feel.” The weight of his body nearly crushes you, eyes sealed as you feel the comforting pressure numbing your nerves. “I know how I fucking feel. I’ve never been so sure of anything��ever. So no, I’m not going to let you bitch about how things should be going between us without my decision.” He bites down on the plump of his lips, trying to find the words to say. “You don’t give a shit about me, and I let it slide because I’m so desperate for anything you do. I run miles the minute you text me to come over, or did you not even know I moved?” Shying away in guilt has him laughing madly, tugging the ends of his own hair. “See? You only think about yourself like the selfish prick you are. Everything is always about you.”

His laughter dies down, liquid drops cascading onto your shirt. “Do I really mean that little to you? What else do you want from me?” Your words are lost in between the silence and the steady sniffling, gazing up slowly to meet his own. What else can you say? What do you want? How blind could you have been to ignore Beomgyu, your best friend over everything else?

So you don’t say anything.

You lean forward, prolonged eye contact undisturbed as your breath fans his lips. It’s agonizing, how slow you both are—if any of you are moving at all. His lips brush against yours, sighing into you—it’s as sweet as nectarine. He takes you in like he’s never eaten anything better, yet restraining himself from hasty gestures, savoring every turn of your tongue and groove of your mouth. Your body slants against his, shifting upwards as he wraps your legs around his, hands on the meat of your thighs. His body stutters, reluctantly pulling away. “Let’s… We should stop now. Before one of us gets hurt.”

Your face softens, taking his hands in yours and peppering his fingers with delicate pecks. “I would never dream of hurting you, baby.” He melts onto your shoulders, burying himself in your collarbone. “I don’t want things to stay as they are.” He comments as you kiss the side of his head, stroking his hair as your other hand thumbs over his knuckles. “I don’t want things to stay as they are either.”

He jumps up at the revelation, breathing unrhythmically. “And if it ruins our friendship?” You kiss the knot off the brows on his forehead, planting them on spots of visible tension strewn across his face. “Then we’d still be lovers, no?” Your words have Beomgyu in a trance, and he thinks he’s lucid dreaming. “Lovers?” You hum in agreement, tucking the stray strands of brown behind his ear. “Do you not want that?”

“Of course!” He blurts, clearing his throat in embarrassment. “I mean, of course I do. With you. Only you.”

“Only me?” You tease, but he takes it at face value, pleading. “Only you. Forever.”

“That’s cheesy.” He scoffs, pushing you down on his bed. “Shut up, you want me.”

“I do. Only you.” To that he grins, giggly and innocent as if he wasn’t grinding his knee into your cunt. “I wanna taste you.” You hoist his chin up, stopping him from going down on you. “Baby,” You coo, “you’re so cute. But I think I owe you head today.” Lips parting, he wastes no time ridding himself of his sweats. “And for the last million times.” He retorts in a half joke. “I know, I’m so sorry.” Pouting for sympathy, you rub your cheek against his underwear. “I’ll make sure to make up for all of it.” He stifles a moan, hips moving at nothing. “My needy prince.” Disregarding your teasing, he focuses on the movements of your fingers, skilled and articulated as they work his cock. “That’s gonna take forever.” He replies, earning a shrug from you. “We have the time.”

You trace the shape of its head, licking and kissing it until you stop at his balls, repeating over and over again until he tells you to stop. With a deep breath, you take as much of him as you can, hitting the back of your throat as he screams. All the sounds you’re making go straight to his dick, Forearms covering his eyes. You reach to swat them away, forcing his eyes on you—you do the same. He whimpers when you hump the mattress below him, slick staining the sheets. His hands intertwine with yours, staring straight at the sight as he bucks into your mouth.

“‘M sorry, so weak.” He’s gasping for air, palms flat on the back of your head, shoving you down his length. “Can’t control it–need your mouth.” Your cunt throbs with every grunt he makes, nose hitting his skin. His noises get louder, pitch raising. “No–stop—” But you don’t listen, hands on his ass while he pushes your face off him. He wants to see you, see you blissed-out painted in his seed when he comes. You don’t let him, swallowing around his dick as you take every pump of cum that flows into your mouth. He falls over your shoulder gasping, grabbing your head to meet his with a kiss. “You’re so mean, I thought today was about me?” You hum, crawling back up the headboard and discarding the rest of your clothing. “So you didn’t like it? ‘Cause I can—”

He cuts you off immediately, shaking his head fervently. “No! I just wanna see your face.”

“Aw, did my baby miss me that much?” You coo, “It was only a week.” With a huff, he lines his member and rubs it against your wet pussy. “A week too long.” Laughing, you caress his cheek, fingers kissed by him. “We’ll do it as much and as long as you like.” He ruts harder against you, moans filling up the room. “You’ll be the death of me.”

You snarl, impatient. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

He only slides the tip in you, smirk growing as he watches you writhe for friction.

Beomgyu watches the crease in your brows, the quiver of your lips, the restlessness of your arms. He kisses every feature of you he can, filing the memories away. “I love you.”

You're barely able to mumble it back as he bottoms out, a resounding thud sounding from the base of his dick and onto your ass. “God, you feel so fucking good.” He rolls his hips slow and deep, eyes trained on you—watching your mouth fall open and close. You don’t make any noise, but he’s here to change that. Pressing down on your stomach, he feels the outline of his cock as it moves in and out, the bulge so visible you shut your eyes closed in embarrassment. You gasp when he bends down to kiss you again, hold on your chin steady as he directs it to the view that connects the two of you. After a few seconds, he pulls your face to meet his. “You’re gonna watch me. And I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you make.” Without warning, he pummels into you, your back arching off the sheets and drool pours from your mouth when he hooks his thumb into it. “B–Beomgyu—”

“Mine…All mine now—gonna ruin you for anyone else.” You whine and thrash underneath him, fingernails digging into his arms as he plays with the nub of your clit. “Nobody else’s, only yours.” He chuckles, “That’s right, love. Where do you want it?” You can barely string words together, fucked out beyond belief as his thrusts get harder, loosing rhythm. “Inside!” His cock pulses at your words, slowing down to stop himself from coming.

“You want it inside? Want me to breed you full of cum?” He says in a low voice, hands roaming your body while licking at your tits.

You’re so animated, every part of your body moving against his for relief, holding back a moan when your hole clenched around him. “Filthy… But you’re my baby, and I love you so, so much. Of course I’ll give you what you want.” He picks up the pace, hips pounding into you relentlessly—the sound of skin slapping mixed with the smell of sex is as suffocating as it is intoxicating.

You’re loud and screaming a slurry of words you aren’t even sure make sense, cock-drunk as he fucks you through your first orgasm. It’s not long before a second one barrels through you, walls clenching tighter as he spills his own seed inside, milky white and full as he makes you ride out both your highs.

Your cum mixes as it pools around your ass and the base of his dick. He litters your face and body with kisses, stopping at your lips to devour it hungrily. It’s all drool, hot gasps of air shared when you disconnect with a line of spit.

He doesn’t pull out, staring at the sight for a few seconds before carefully settling at the space next to you, making sure not a single drop leaks out.

“Just to be clear, we’re dating now right?” “Yes, you idiot. Did you not hear anything I said? Did you ignore the part where I agreed to you breeding me?” His face flushes, hiding himself between the junction of your neck and shoulder. “Just making sure.” Beomgyu snakes his arm on top of your waist, draping a leg onto it and sighing, content.

“….So nobody else, right?” You groan, turning your head to face him. It’s hard, and you wince at the position change when his dick prods around inside you, cum leaking onto the sheets. “Nobody else.” You reply, resting your head back against his chest. “Only you.”

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reidsmanuscript · 18 days ago

Text

Cooling love

Summary: Full of fear, full of love and wrapped in the feeling of safety and home, they say those three words for the first time. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: FLUFF! FINALLY wc: 3.2k! TW: reader does boxing and overthinks way too much A/N: it's inspired on "You are in love" by Taylor Swift, Mastelist! (it's not necessary to read the first 4 chapters for the part!)

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The sky was turning orange, announcing the sunset. The sight of it excited you—maybe today wouldn’t bring rain after all. Maybe tonight, the date you had with Spencer would end under a clear spring sky.

Finishing the last motion of the day, you glanced up at the clock and realized you could leave in five minutes. You began arranging your documents, eager to get home and get ready, when your phone rang with Spencer’s assigned tone.

You had a rule with him—well, actually, a series of very clear rules both of you had established after a period of back-and-forth. They included "Do not lie to me" and "No calls during work unless it's absolutely necessary or an emergency." That rule had been established after he called you in the middle of a trial for, ‘What do you want for dinner?’ Everything else that wasn’t an emergency could be communicated through messages—something Spencer had gotten used to.

You let out a tired sigh, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible when you answer the phone. “Hey.”

The sigh on the other end is familiar, the same one you let out earlier. “Hey, it’s me... We just had a case come up, I have to fly to Wyoming. I’m really sorry.”

Your suspicions are confirmed, and you press your lips together, trying to keep the disappointment out of your tone. “It’s okay, really. I’ll call the restaurant and let them know. Maybe we can reschedule within two weeks?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Again, I’m sorry,” he says, and you can almost hear the pout in his voice. The sincerity behind his words makes your heart soften.

“It comes with the job, really,” you reassure him, offering him some comfort. “Just let me know when you land, okay?”

“I will. Talk soon,” he says, the relief in his voice a little evident.

You can’t help but smile a little, even if the evening you had hoped for is slipping away. “Talk soon, Spence.”

He hangs up, and you allow yourself a moment to feel the sadness of the cancellation. You know it’s completely out of your control, but that doesn’t erase the bitter taste it leaves behind. You had planned a nice dinner with him—one where you might finally say the three words that have been sitting in the back of your mind, the ones that still scare you more than anything.

You had been dating for a while now, and it was so unexpectedly calm in contrast how you two had met. Things between you were nice and loving, but you wouldn’t call it sweet. Not because it wasn’t objectively sweet, but because sweetness wasn’t something you associated with good. Still, you knew that anyone looking from the outside would call you both sweet. Maybe even him would call it like that.

For you it was more like… peaceful. Calming. Yeah, that was the word. Like cooling, but not in a cold way—more like refreshing. Like taking a sip of water in the middle of the night from a bottle that’s been sitting there for way too long, yet it’s somehow the perfect temperature.

God, you sucked at this. Love was not your strongest field, truly. You could argue in court, you could come up with ways to convince people and even threaten officers and criminals with charges. But when it came to expressing your feelings with order and clarity you were… well dumb.

Words got mixed up, emotions tangled into knots, and when he looked at you with those love-filled eyes, you wanted to grab him—hold him so tightly, so fiercely, that maybe then he’d understand everything you felt.

Because one of your biggest fears was that you seemed too cold, too indifferent—maybe even to him.

I mean, the man had just called to cancel a date, and you brushed it off, made it seem like it didn’t matter, just so he wouldn’t feel bad. But what if he thought you didn’t care? You did care. You wouldn’t have spent nearly two hours agonizing over what to wear, rehearsing things you wanted to say to him over dinner if you didn't.

Sometimes, you felt so much that you were afraid of how it might come out—afraid that if you tried to express it, it would explode in the worst way possible. So instead, you held it back. Smoothed it over. Hid it.

But you did love him.

Because in a room full of people, the one look he gave was always just for you. Because sometimes, when your shoulders brushed in passing, that single touch was enough.

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Spencer was more than happy with the way things were between you two. He never felt unloved—not even for a second—because he knew you. He knew how you were when you were mad, how cold and detached you could be to people who didn’t matter. And with him? You were anything but uncaring or uninterested.

You let him ramble about whatever hyperfixation had captured his mind at the moment, listening not just with patience but with genuine attention. And sometimes, you asked hypothetical questions that completely blew his mind—because while he was good at following the book, tracing theories and established patterns, you were good at thinking of all the possible alternatives, the what-ifs no one had considered.

He would talk about, say, the fall of the Roman Empire, meticulously outlining every economic, political, and social factor that led to its collapse. And you—never content with the obvious—would tilt your head and ask, "But what if the Antonine Plague had never happened? Do you think Rome would have still fallen, or would it have held on for a few more centuries?"

Or he’d be deep in a discussion about the Voynich manuscript, running through linguistic theories and cryptographic possibilities, and you’d counter with, "But what if it’s not a cipher at all? What if it was written by someone whose brain just didn’t work like ours, someone who saw language in an entirely different way?"

And that was the thing—Spencer knew a lot, but you thought in a way that challenged everything he thought he knew. Like sometimes you would open doors to worlds he hadn't thought about. You didn’t just listen; you engaged, pulling him into debates that left his mind racing long after the conversation had ended.

It was exhilarating. And maybe, just maybe, it was one of the many reasons he had fallen in love with you.

So that’s why he was so sad when he had to call off the date.

It was hard enough being away from you for long stretches when he was working, constantly moving from case to case, city to city. That’s why he kept the photo you two had taken in a photobooth on your third date tucked safely in his wallet—the small strip of pictures worn at the edges from how often he pulled it out. A reminder. A comfort.

And that’s why, sometimes, when an unsub’s victim profile was too similar to you—too close to home—he felt even more driven to catch them as quickly as possible.

You could be in D.C., nearly 1,700 miles away from the crime scene he was standing in, and yet he still felt like you were in danger. Like he had to protect you, even from across the country. It was irrational, he knew that. Statistically, logically, there was no reason for the cases to feel so personal.

But they did. Because it was you. And when it came to you, Spencer had never been good at thinking rationally. 　

That’s why, when the approximately 3-hour flight came to an end, he needed to see you—personally, physically—to reassure his suddenly illogical mind that you were safe and sound.

He knew you weren’t working—it was 7 p.m. on a Wednesday, a day you started to set aside to exercise, claiming that by the middle of the week, you were already stressed enough. It was part of your new routine, something predictable in a life that often wasn’t, and Spencer knew you’d appreciate him remembering.

He told himself he was being ridiculous, that you were fine, that nothing had happened. But still, his fingers hovered over his phone, waiting—because knowing you were safe wasn’t the same as seeing it.

Because that’s what love does to a man like Spencer—smashes his brain into a puddle and makes his IQ feel like a useless number, proving his own disbelief in quantifiable intelligence.

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You saw him standing outside the gym, hands tucked into his pockets, and immediately walked out to meet him. A part of you felt gross—sweaty and disheveled from your workout—but the excitement of seeing him, of having him just a few feet away, overshadowed everything else.

“Hey, I’m really sweaty, so it’s oka—” you started, already thinking about his germophobia.

Before you could finish, he cut you off by hugging you tightly. The sudden warmth of him caught you off guard, but only for a second before you melted into it, sliding your arms around him and rubbing your hand along his back.

When he pulled away slightly, his expression was unreadable, almost hesitant. “Sorry, I—uh—”

You shook your head before he could finish.

“I really missed you,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched, and your hold on him instinctively tightened. “I missed you too.”

He smiled then, and for a moment, you swore you might die.

It wasn’t just the way he held you—like you were something precious. It was the way he clung to you, as if you were some kind of beacon in the middle of a storm.

The strap of your gym bag started slipping off your shoulder, and as you adjusted it, his gaze drifted downward. His expression shifted the moment he caught sight of your hand, brows furrowing at the faint bruises on your knuckles.

Without hesitation, he reached for your hand, turning it over gently. The contrast between his careful touch and the roughness of your skin made heat rise to your face—flustered, yet slightly embarrassed.

"You've been boxing," he finally said. Not a question, just an observation.

You smirked, tilting your head. "Yeah, Morgan recommended it. And I still haven't forgiven Austin for his attempted murder when I joined his Pilates class." You shrugged, trying to downplay the concern in his eyes. "It's really good, you know? Who would've thought that throwing punches actually calms angry people?"

His lips twitched, but he didn’t quite smile. "Statistically speaking, if you just started, your form probably still needs work. Which means you're likely—" he paused, his thumb ghosting over your knuckles, "—hitting too hard without proper wrist alignment. You should wrap your hands before training."

His worry was endearing, and something in your chest warmed at the way he studied you so intently, like your well-being was something that mattered.

“I do wrap them,” you admitted, then gave him a sheepish look. “Maybe… not in the right way.”

His gaze flickered up to yours, unimpressed yet undeniably fond. “That’s not exactly reassuring,” he murmured, still holding your hand like it was something fragile—something that deserved care, even if you didn’t always give it to yourself.

You huffed a small laugh. “Well, it’s a work in progress. Kind of like me.”

He didn’t let go. Instead, he ran his thumb lightly over your knuckles, his touch featherlight. His voice was quieter when he spoke again.

“I could show you.”

Because that was what Spencer Reid did for you—he didn’t try to convince you to quit if you said something was good for you. He didn’t attempt to control your anger or emotions in the way he thought would be most convenient.

If you decided you were going to throw punches at a punching bag, then he was going to make sure you did it as safely as possible.

There had been times in your life when you felt like a caged animal, constantly surrounded by people who only wanted to tame you. But he was the exception—the one who met you in the wildness of your own mind with nothing but patience and understanding.

It was terrifying.

“Maybe later,” you say, intertwining your fingers and lowering your hands out of his view. “I’m sure you’re really tired and hungry.”

He sighs, clearly recognizing your attempt to change the subject, but lets it slide. “A little,” he admits. “Do you want to go to dinner?”

The possibility of finally having your date—at a moment when you were anything but put together, still sweaty and dressed in gym clothes—made you glance down at yourself.

“I-uh, could we make a quick stop at my place first? I don’t think you want to take me out when I look like this.”

It was a joke, obviously, and he laughed softly. But all he could think about was how, to him, you were beautiful in any state, in any clothes. Still, knowing you weren’t comfortable, he considered an alternative.

“Why don’t we pick up some food and go to your place instead?”

You pause, looking up at him, and something in your chest tugs at the idea. You couldn’t ask for a more perfect moment to tell him you loved him—your apartment, your own world, with him existing in it.

You smile and nod, and he begins walking toward his favorite Indian food place, still holding your hand. His fingers trace the bruises gently, as though he's reading them like braille, trying to understand the thoughts that linger in your mind. The careful, deliberate way he does it makes your chest ache in the best possible way, a warm ache that settles deep and soft inside you.

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You were sitting on your couch, legs draped over his—not exactly in his lap, but close enough. His hand absentmindedly traced over them as you finished the last bite of your meal before setting the empty container on the coffee table.

He got up, murmuring something about the bathroom, but when he returned, he had the first aid kit in hand—the same one he had bought for you after knowing you didn’t have one.

You had already forgotten about the bruises.

Of course, he hadn’t.

He flipped it open, retrieving an antiseptic wipe before reaching for your hand again. “Just in case,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “They’re fine.”

He shot you a look that told you he didn’t believe that for a second. “Humor me.”

With a sigh, you let him clean the bruised skin, the antiseptic stinging slightly as he swiped it across your knuckles with delicate precision. He was so gentle with you, more than you probably deserved.

“Does it hurt?” he asked after a moment, voice softer now.

“No,” you admitted. “Not when you’re doing it.”

His movements faltered just slightly, and you watched as his ears turned pink.

Yeah. You were definitely dying.

He cleared his throat, recovering quickly, and reached for the roll of gauze in his kit. “Alright. Hands out.”

You obeyed, letting him take your hand as he began wrapping your knuckles with precise, deliberate movements. His touch was careful but assured, his focus entirely on the task as he spoke—low, measured, like he was reading from a well-researched textbook.

“The wrap needs to be snug but not constrictive,” he murmured, looping the bandage around your wrist first. “If it’s too loose, it won’t absorb impact properly. Too tight, and you risk compromising circulation, which can lead to numbness, tingling, or even long-term nerve compression.”

His fingers ghosted over your skin as he threaded the wrap between yours, securing it with mathematical precision.

“You’re not just protecting your knuckles; the metacarpals, tendons, and small intrinsic muscles of the hand all absorb force during a punch,” he continued, his voice steady. “Improper wrapping shifts that force to weaker areas, increasing the likelihood of a boxer's fracture—typically in the fourth and fifth metacarpal bones.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Only you would make first aid sound like a dissertation, Doctor Reid.”

His lips quirked, but his concentration didn’t waver. “I just think if you’re going to be using your hands as blunt-force weapons, you should at least minimize the risk of long-term structural damage.”

His voice was calm, steady—each word carefully measured, as if he knew exactly how to keep you grounded without even trying. You let yourself sink into it, resting your head against his shoulder, the warmth of him seeping into you.

He finished the last loop, pressing his fingertips gently against the bandage to test the tension. “That should hold,” he murmured.

You flexed your fingers experimentally, then glanced up at him. “Didn’t know you were an expert at this,” you teased.

He let out a small chuckle. “Not exactly. But I do know a thing or two about anatomy and injury prevention. And I may have… read a few sports medicine journals.”

Of course he had.

His fingers lingered—light against yours, tracing the edges of the bandage as if mapping out every careful turn he had just made. He didn’t look up right away, and neither did you.

The most comforting yet loud silence set between you, not loud in a troubled way, more in a full of emotions type of loud, the same feeling you heard on the way home.

You took the chance and intertwined your fingers with his, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. The sensation caused his stomach to flutter, the tingling warmth spreading across his skin.

“Thank you, Spence,” you said, your voice genuine, filled with all the gratitude you felt.

“It’s nothing,” he murmured, his hand drifting lazily over your leg, his thumb tracing soft patterns against your skin.

Remember that feeling of too much? The one where you were scared of exploding because everything inside you was just too overwhelming? Right now, your chest was filled to the brim, threatening to burst if you didn’t release it somehow.

“I love you.”

Your confession caused him to turn his head toward you. There was no disbelief in his eyes—only the quiet, profound gratitude of being the one you chose to share that with.

He had read about love in thousands of books, from poetry to neurological studies. He knew the chemical process behind it, the science of affection and attachment. But in this moment, he finally understood why some people lost themselves in love, why others fought wars over it, why people spent entire lifetimes trying to put it into words. For the first time, he realized there was no way to describe the depth of what he felt for you—not in any language, not through any scientific explanation. Some feelings simply defied words.

“I love you too,” he whispered, but even those words felt insufficient as they left his lips.

And that’s why his hand, still resting on your leg, moved up to your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips found yours. As if Dostoevsky was almost right when said ‘The darker the night, the brighter the stars. The deeper the grief love, the closer is God.’

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emmiesoverthemoon · 15 days ago

Note

hi, i really like your work and I was thinking maybe if you could write some fluff about if gdragon was a dad? no pressure ofc :3 I just think it would be very cute hihi (*´ー｀*)

thank you for your request! i hope you like it!!! :D

「first doctor’s jitters

Pairing: g-dragon / kwon jiyong x reader

Word Count: 3,325

Summary: Jiyong feels a high amount of anxiety towards your newborn daughter’s post-natal doctor’s appointment. Good thing you are there to be his rock through his nerves.

Tags: first-time parents, fluff, anxiety, comfort, light teasing, g-dragon is a girl dad

cross posted on ao3 here

You woke up to the soft, golden morning light creeping through the curtains, a peaceful silence settling in the air. The house smelled like fresh coffee, your favourite blend, and you could hear Jiyong in the kitchen, humming a little tune as he prepared breakfast—his way of easing into the day, even if it was an important one. Today was your baby girl’s first doctor’s appointment, and although it was routine, you could already feel the nervous energy reverberating through Jiyong. He had not stopped checking the time since he’d woken up—five hours early just to be sure he would not have any risk of delay—muttering about being so unsure as to whether or not you all would leave on time, despite you both having two hours before the appointment.

"Are you ready?" you called out, your voice a little raspy from sleep, filled with warmth. You wrapped the little pink blanket around your daughter, cradling her gently in your arms, the soft murmur of her content breaths presenting as a comfort to you both.

Jiyong glanced over his shoulder, his brow furrowing. "We need to leave soon, right?" His words came out in a near whisper, nerves creeping through due to a fear of waking the baby, and of being late to this absolutely normal, post natal doctor’s appointment that every baby is required to have after birth. Just how will he react when she actually falls sick? His eyes flitted to the clock, then to you, then back at the clock as if the minutes were slipping away too quickly.

"Jiyong, baby," you teased gently, crossing the kitchen to him, "we have time. Her appointment is in two hours, and we’re not going to be late." You placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension beneath your touch. "You’re overwhelming yourself over unnecessary details."

His eyes met yours, wide with concern. "But what if—" He cut himself off, voice faltering as though saying the words aloud made it more real. He would not be surprised if you could hear his anxious heartbeat from outside his chest. "What if something's wrong? What if we miss something important?"

You chuckled softly, unable to resist. "Honey, you’re not a doctor." You kissed his cheek, the stubble tickling you as you grinned. "She’s fine. It’s just a checkup of her weight and stuff. This is normal."

He ran a hand through his hair, still looking troubled. "But what if it’s not? What if she’s too cold? Or too hot? Or—"

You cut him off with a soft laugh. "Ji, we’ve only had her for, what, a few weeks? She’s perfectly fine. Just like she’s been every other day since she was born. Trust me." You handed him the diaper bag full of equipment–that Jiyong had checked had everything needed, of course. Shaking your head fondly at how worried about most things related to your shared daughter he was, it made your heart swell with affection. You could not be more overjoyed that your daughter had a father that cared about her as much as Jiyong did. "You're a dad now. You shouldn’t keep overthinking everything, you’ll give yourself a migraine."

He hesitated for a moment before his lips curved into that familiar, sheepish smile. "I just—I don’t want anything to go wrong. Not with her." His voice softened, and you saw that flicker of tenderness behind his eyes, the deep love that always felt like it could burst from his chest at any given moment.

You smiled, your heart feeling a little too full, as you glanced down at your baby girl, her little face with ever so soft pink cheeks peeking out from the blanket. "I know. I know. But everything will be fine. You’ll see," You move to stand behind Jiyong, rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to help him soothe his anxieties, which was safe to say, was not working.

A sigh fell from his lips, he always gave in to what you said, ninety-nine percent of the time you were right anyway. “Alright, we’ll go soon then. We can wait in the car if we arrive too early. Please?” He pleaded gently.

You knew he would feel unbearable discomfort if you had arrived on time, so of course, you gave in to him. You always did, anyway.

On the way to the doctor’s office, Jiyong asked you to read him the directions on his phone at least five times, each glance toward you was followed by a sigh of relief when you said you were on track for an early estimated time of arrival. His eyes kept searching your face, looking for any sign of hesitation, as if waiting for you to change your mind.

You teased him on the way there, every little nervous check of the car's rear view mirror, every quick glance at the clock, and every huff of concern about the baby’s well-being. You loved every second of it, though—how much he loved, how deeply he felt every moment with her. And you did not have any qualms about being his rock to stabilise his nerves.

When you finally arrived, Jiyong parked the car with a precision that only came from his deep need for control. His hands were still trembling slightly as he helped you out of the car and lifted your daughter’s car seat, like every movement was deliberate, careful—too careful, maybe. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly to yourself.

Inside the doctor’s office, Jiyong was on edge, pacing the waiting room, tapping his foot nervously, making sure everything was perfect. The waiting felt endless to him, every second stretching and distorting into a worry-filled eternity. His gaze flickered to the clock, then to you, to the baby, and back to the clock. Each time, his breath would catch, as though his entire world depended on this one appointment, on this one checkup.

“Jiyong,” you said, your tone soothing as you pulled him close, “She’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”

He met your eyes then, his hand tightening around your own, a rare vulnerability in the depth of his gaze. “I just… I don’t know if I’ll ever stop worrying about her. She’s so small. So fragile. What if—”

You placed a finger on his lips forcing him to pout. Cutting off his spiraling thoughts, your eyes soft with affection, you cooed, “She’s fine. And I’m fine. And you’re doing great, Ji. Just breathe. We can do this together.”

The doctor finally called your child’s name, and as you walked into the examination room, Jiyong’s breath hitched one last time, but this time, you could see him take a deep, grounding breath, as if readying himself for whatever was ahead. As the doctor checked your baby’s heartbeat, her reflexes, her development, and everything in between, you could feel Jiyong’s tension slowly ease, his shoulders relaxing inch by inch. Each time the doctor gave a reassuring smile, Jiyong’s eyes softened, the lines of worry melting away, even if just a little.

When the doctor gave her the all-clear, Jiyong let out a long, relieved breath, a huge weight visibly lifting from his shoulders. He smiled, a smile so bright it made your heart flutter. His hand gently brushed against yours, and you felt the deep gratitude in his touch. “I told you she’d be fine,” you whispered, teasing, as you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

He chuckled, that familiar nervousness still there but now mixed with relief. “You were right. Again,” he smiled gently, pulling you toward him.

“Always am,” you grinned, wrapping a hand around his upper arm. "She's your daughter. Of course, she's going to be perfect."

And in that moment, it felt like the world had slowed down just for a second, as though the quiet joy of being together, of being parents, had enveloped you both. All the worry, all the little fears, melted away, leaving only the soft, steady rhythm of your baby's breath and the warmth of Jiyong's arm in yours.

Everything was perfect. Everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.

As you and Jiyong walked out of the doctor’s office, his steps were lighter, his demeanor more relaxed, and you could feel the tension that had once gripped him start to melt away like winter ice beneath the warmth of spring. Your baby girl, snug in her car seat, cooing softly, her tiny hand reaching for the world around her, oblivious to the whirl of emotions her parents had just navigated.

Jiyong glanced down at her, a soft smile curling up at the corners of his mouth, his gaze tender and almost reverent. It was always like this with her—a quiet, unspoken awe that filled the spaces between his words, a love so strong it nearly overwhelmed him at times. You could see it, the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at her, as though he were seeing something extraordinary every time.

“You were right, you know,” he said, his voice almost in a whisper, as though not wanting to break the serenity of the moment.

You laughed lightly, nudging him with your elbow as you both strolled back to the car. “I told you, didn’t I?” You smirked playfully, enjoying this small victory in the ongoing battle of his worries. "Everything’s fine, Ji, you baby."

He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at you, though it was a look full of affection. "You make it sound so easy." He gently buckled your daughter into her car seat, his movements meticulous, as if every click of the buckle was another reassurance that he was doing it right.

“It’s never easy, love,” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder as he finished the task. “There will always be difficulties, all throughout her life, but being a parent doesn’t always have to be about worrying. Getting in your head about small things can make situations harder.”

He met your eyes, and for a moment, there was a flicker of doubt still there, hidden behind the tiredness in his smile. "But what if something happens? I just want to be sure she’s okay every second of the day. What if I miss something? What if—"

You cut him off gently, brushing a strand of his hair back from his forehead, your touch warm and reassuring. “Ji, you're doing the best you can. And you know what? That’s all she’ll ever need. All she’ll ever want is you. And I’m here, too."

His shoulders seemed to sink a little further as he let out a deep sigh. "You’re right. Again." His hand found yours, his fingers interlacing with yours, a silent promise between you both.

The drive home was quieter than usual, but in the best way. It was as if the weight of unspoken fears had been lifted, leaving you both with a sense of peace that was still settling in, like the calm after a summer storm.

Jiyong kept glancing at your daughter in the rearview mirror, his eyes scanning her face as though looking for any sign of discomfort, but each time, he would smile softly, his eyes softening. “She really is perfect, isn’t she?” His voice was tender now, free from the panic it had carried earlier.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. “She is. Just like her dad.”

Jiyong’s cheeks flushed with the smallest hint of embarrassment, though his smile only deepened. “Stop it,” he murmured, his voice filled with endearing bashfulness.

“Why? I’m just stating the facts.” You grinned, your playful teasing coming through once more, but this time it was tempered with a quiet affection that only the two of you shared. You could tell he was still processing everything—still adjusting to his new role as a father—but there was no doubt in your mind that he was going to be amazing at it. He just needed a little more time, a little more confidence, and he would find his rhythm.

By the time you reached home, the afternoon sun had warmed the world outside, casting long shadows across the yard. Jiyong took a deep breath as he parked the car, a content sigh leaving his lips as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He leaned back, just for a moment, soaking in the tranquility that had settled over him.

“Do you think we’ll ever stop worrying?” he asked, his voice quiet, but filled with sincerity.

You took a moment, thinking about it. You knew the answer, but you also knew it was something that needed to come from you in a way that would reassure him—reassure both of you. “I think we’ll always worry, a little. One of us more than the other," you snickered, but then continued, your voice laced with genuine comfort, "It’s natural. But it’s not about being perfect. It’s about being there when she needs us. And I know we will be. You will be. You’re already amazing at this.”

Jiyong didn’t reply right away. He simply took your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your skin, as though grounding himself in the love between the two of you.

You both stepped out of the car, your baby girl still sleeping soundly in her seat, the day’s bright light reflecting off her little face. You stood together, just for a moment, looking at the tiny life you had brought into the world—this perfect little girl who was already surrounded by so much love.

“We got this,” you said, more to reassure him than to convince yourself, though the words rang true.

Jiyong smiled, his heart full, as he nodded, a quiet, steady confidence in his voice. “Yeah, we do. Together.”

And with that, the two of you walked into your home, your hearts light, your minds at ease. This was the beginning of so many more milestones, so many more firsts. And no matter how many times Jiyong’s worry surfaced, you knew he would always have a way of turning it into something beautiful. Together, you were navigating parenthood one step at a time—and you couldn’t imagine anyone better to do it with.

The days that followed were filled with the tender rhythms of new parenthood, a dance that was both exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure. Jiyong continued to check in on your daughter—now growing just a little bit bigger with every passing day—like a gentle guardian, always hovering nearby, making sure she was comfortable, safe, and perfect, in his eyes. He was still the same old Jiyong, the one who double-checked the diaper bag every time you left the house, who adjusted the baby monitor just so, and who spent what seemed like hours studying her little face, as though he were memorizing every detail.

And even though his worries were never truly gone, they had become something easier to bear—something you both laughed about now. In the mornings, when he’d ask if she had eaten enough or if her cheeks looked too flushed, you would smile and tell him, "She's fine, Ji. You’re both fine."

One evening, after a particularly long day, you both collapsed on the couch. The house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the baby monitor in the background, and you could hear your daughter’s gentle breaths from the nursery. Jiyong was propped up against the cushions beside you, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of your hand, a quiet warmth between you.

"You know," he said, his voice quiet, as though unsure if he should voice the thought, "sometimes I feel like I’m never going to get it right. I mean, I look at her, and I just want to... I don’t know, do everything perfect for her. I want to protect her from…everything." His words came out slower now, not in a panicked rush, but in the quiet, reflective tone of a man who had just come to understand something about himself.

You looked at him then, studying his face in the soft glow of the living room light. There were still shadows beneath his eyes, remnants of sleepless nights, but there was something deeper there now, too. Something steadier, more grounded. The worry was still there, but it was becoming a quieter hum, not a shout.

"You’re doing it," you said softly, squeezing his hand. "You’re protecting her by loving her the way you do. That’s enough." You paused, leaning your head against his shoulder. "I know it feels like a lot sometimes. You don’t have to be perfect. She just needs you to be you."

Jiyong sighed, his head tilting back against the cushions as he closed his eyes for a moment. "I still feel like I’m learning. Every day. And it’s not just about the baby. It’s about being a dad... being someone she looks to, to keep her safe and happy." His voice grew more contemplative, the weight of the words heavier than usual.

You smiled, pulling him closer, your heart swelling with pride. "Parenting is never ending learning, my love, there’s a new thing that happens each day that you least expect. Besides, smhe’ll never look to anyone else the way she looks to you. The way you love her... that’s her world." You felt the quiet confidence in your words, but you knew it was the truth. Jiyong didn’t need to fix everything. Just being there, in the moment, was enough.

He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. "I guess I’ve got the easy part, then."

You raised an eyebrow. "The easy part?"

He laughed softly. "I mean, you’re the one who’s been with her from the beginning. I’m just playing catch-up. All you have to do is hold her, and she’s already calm. She trusts you more than anyone else." He reached over, brushing a hand over your hair, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "You’re amazing, you know that baby?" You leaned into him, the familiar comfort of his presence settling over you. The silence between you two was comfortable now. The days of uncertainty, of worrying about every little thing, seemed to have settled into something more manageable. The weight of responsibility was still there, but it no longer felt overwhelming. It was shared, this journey. And while it was still new, you both were finding your rhythm.

Weeks passed, and with each one, Jiyong’s worries became a little less frequent, though never entirely gone. There were still moments when his eyes would flicker with concern, or when he’d check your daughter’s temperature just a little too many times. But you could see it—his love, his care for her was evolving. It was no longer about anticipating every little danger, but about cherishing every little milestone, every tiny moment that was slipping by.

One quiet evening, as you all sat together in the living room, Jiyong held your daughter in his arms, her tiny fingers curled around his finger. She looked up at him with those wide, trusting eyes that seemed to see everything.

"Hey, little one," Jiyong whispered, his voice filled with so much tenderness it almost made your heart ache. "I promise, I’ll always take care of you. I’ll always be here."

You watched the two of them in that soft, glowing light. The sight of Jiyong with your daughter—his devotion, his quiet strength—was something you’d never grow tired of. It was in these simple moments, these everyday interactions, that you realized how much love had already woven itself into the fabric of your little family. Jiyong, despite his worries, had already become the father he was meant to be. He loved her in a way that made your heart ache with sweetness. There was no need for perfection—there was only this, the raw and beautiful reality of being together in the mess and the joy of it all.

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#bigbang #bigbang x reader #gdragon #fanfic #g dragon #gdragon x reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #emmiesoverthemoon

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