#but yeah it's like...well it's been a run...not sure if a good one...but it's been a run and considering how much i just don't care anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xo100 · 1 day

Text

Baking cookies pt. 3- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando and Y/N confess their feelings, agreeing to take things slow, while Nina continues to brighten their lives.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1237

masterlist / community / request / previous ౨ৎ next

౨ৎ

The next morning felt different. Not in a drastic, world-shifting way, but in the small, quiet way things change when you finally admit how you feel about someone who’s been in your life for so long. The sun filtered through the curtains in Lando’s living room, casting soft shadows on the walls, and Y/N sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. She wasn’t thinking about the articles in front of her, though. Her mind was on Lando—and the kiss they shared the night before.

She could still feel the warmth of his lips, the gentle way his hand had cradled hers. The memory made her heart skip a beat, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

Y/N’s head snapped up at the sound of Lando’s voice. He was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his hair still messy from sleep. He looked comfortable in a worn T-shirt and sweats, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Morning,” she replied, her cheeks flushing slightly at the memory of last night.

Lando pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to her, dropping into the chair across the table. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward with that same playful glint in his eyes that Y/N had seen countless times—but now, it felt different. There was something deeper behind it.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Good,” Y/N answered, smiling. “You?”

“Best I’ve slept in a while,” Lando replied, his gaze locked on hers.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of their newfound connection hanging in the air. It was comfortable, but there was a spark between them, something quietly electric that hadn’t been there before.

But before they could say anything more, the familiar sound of little feet running down the stairs interrupted them.

“Daddy! Auntie Y/N!” Nina’s voice called out as she bounced into the kitchen, her curly hair wild and her face full of excitement. “I’m hungry!”

Y/N and Lando exchanged a quick glance before they both burst into laughter. The moment was broken, but in the best way—Nina always had that effect.

“What’s on the menu today, munchkin?” Lando asked, ruffling Nina’s hair as she climbed onto Y/N’s lap.

“Pancakes!” Nina declared with a big grin.

Y/N smiled, hugging Nina tightly. “Pancakes, huh? I think we can make that happen.”

“Yay!” Nina clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing on Y/N’s lap.

Lando got up from his chair, heading toward the fridge. “Alright, team pancake, let’s get to work.”

As Lando started gathering ingredients, Y/N helped Nina down from her lap, and together, they got to work in the kitchen. It was something they had done countless times before, but this time felt different. Everything did.

The three of them moved around the kitchen with ease, like a well-practiced routine. Nina poured the flour, Y/N mixed the batter, and Lando flipped the pancakes, tossing in an extra bit of flair for Nina, who giggled with every flip.

At one point, Lando leaned over to Y/N, his voice low and teasing. “You know, I think you’re rubbing off on me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well,” Lando said, holding up a pancake with a lopsided heart shape in the middle, “I’m starting to get pretty good at these.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Sure you are.”

They shared another quiet moment of laughter, but this time, there was an undeniable tenderness in it. Lando’s hand brushed against Y/N’s as he passed her a plate, and she felt that same warmth flood her chest. The feeling that this was right, that they were right.

Once breakfast was done, the three of them sat at the table together, with Nina happily munching on her pancakes while talking animatedly about her day ahead. Lando and Y/N exchanged glances across the table, both of them silently reveling in the ease of this moment. It was just the three of them, but it felt like more.

After breakfast, Lando cleared the table while Y/N helped Nina get ready for the day. As they moved through their morning routine, the unspoken understanding between Lando and Y/N grew. They didn’t need to say anything just yet—there was comfort in the way they worked together, the natural way they fit into each other’s lives.

Once Nina was dressed and ready to play in the garden, Y/N found herself back in the living room, straightening up a few toys Nina had left scattered around. Lando appeared beside her, leaning against the couch as he watched her for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

“Y/N…” His voice was softer now, more serious.

She turned to face him, her heart beating a little faster. “Yeah?”

Lando stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take hers. “I’ve been thinking about us. About what this means.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes searching his. “Me too.”

“I know we haven’t really talked about it yet, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Lando said, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Because this? This feels like more than just a moment.”

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling at his words. “It is more. It’s everything.”

Lando’s smile was soft but filled with so much emotion that it made Y/N’s chest ache. “I don’t want to rush anything, but… I want this. I want us.”

Y/N took a step closer, her free hand reaching up to rest against his chest. “I want that too, Lando. I want us to figure this out together.”

His hand came up to cup her cheek, his eyes searching hers for any sign of doubt. But there wasn’t any. Y/N was sure of this, sure of them.

“You know, Nina adores you,” Lando said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “She’s always asking when you’ll come over. And seeing the two of you together… It makes me realize how lucky I am.”

Y/N’s heart melted at his words. She had always loved Nina as if she were her own, and hearing Lando say those things only deepened her feelings for him. “I adore her too, Lando. And I… I adore you.”

His eyes softened, and before Y/N could say anything more, Lando leaned in and kissed her. It was soft and sweet, but this time there was more behind it. The promise of something new, something real.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. “We’ll take it slow,” she whispered. “For Nina. For us.”

Lando nodded, his smile widening. “Yeah, slow sounds perfect.”

Just as they were about to kiss again, a loud crash echoed from the garden, followed by Nina’s triumphant shout. “I did it!”

Y/N and Lando both burst into laughter, stepping apart as they looked out the window to see Nina standing proudly next to a stack of garden toys she had knocked over.

“We’d better go check on our little troublemaker,” Lando said with a grin, taking Y/N’s hand as they headed outside together.

As they walked into the garden, hand in hand, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful. A new chapter for all three of them.

And it was exactly where she wanted to be.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also I’ve started a community feel free to join! Currently working on part 4! If you want to be tagged leave it in the comments!

Also currently heartbroken by Daniel leaving f1💔

*:･ﾟtags; @barcelonaloverf1life @fanficweasley @obxstiles @missnxthingg @trisharee @myescapefromthislife

299 notes · View notes

kentahoe · 3 days

Text

a nameless hamzah fic because i said so

srry i can’t NEVER come up with proper names for my fics. THIS PIC OF HIM MAKES ME TWEAKKK

hamzah x reader. female anatomy. established relationship

cw: SEX idk what else to put i’ve never written smth like this before🤕 nothing out of pocket but nothing short of freaky deaky.

He was gentle, an easy smile played across his pretty lips, and his eyes were half-lidded in a way that made you feel casual. In every sense, he was someone you wanted to be around. The low hum of his voice when he told jokes, his cute teeth and calming smell.

Hamzah held himself on the couch very languidly, legs comfortably spread, leaning onto the arm rest, head tilted back ever so slightly so you could see the expanse of his neck.

Sitting up, he tilted his head towards you, smirking easily. “What? You picked this movie and suddenly you don’t like it anymore?”

Of course the one time you indulged; allowed yourself a glance, to drink in his essence next to you, of course that’s when he noticed.

“No, I just spaced out. I like it,” You turned back towards the TV, but you felt his lingering eyes on you. You almost felt like they had lasers, heat washing over you wherever they swept past on your face and body, like you had been zapped.

“What are you thinking about? You were looking right at me.” He still has that easy grin, and you feel your eye twitch in annoyance.

But could you ever really be annoyed at him?

“I don’t even remember.” Shaking your head, you chanced looking over at him, meeting his eyes.

They were deep and warm and pretty. Dark eyelashes that curled slightly, that made him even more beautiful. “I think you do.”

Simple response. Simple enough that you couldn’t come up with an answer. One flutter of his eyes and all the words were stolen from your chest. In your head, you were filing through things to say, and the longer you were quiet, the stupider you were sure you seemed.

“I…don’t.”

Hamzah inhaled a breath, removing his hand from the side of his face where it was resting. He lifted himself with his arms, shifting in his cross-legged position to face you on the couch. It startled you a bit, because you didn’t know what he could possibly be implying. Well, you did, but there was a nervousness in your gut.

He uncrossed one leg, letting it fall over the edge of the couch, and he looked at you. With intention in his eyes. There was a goal he was working towards, but you weren’t sure what it was, if it wasn’t what you were thinking. His grey t-shirt was wrinkled a bit, and his black basketball shorts were riding up on his thighs, and you could help but exhale a breath looking at him, swallowing.

“I think you look really good,” you somehow found, straightening your back.

Hamzah’s grin grew, like he reached a new achievement. It would almost annoy you if he wasn’t so handsome. And if there wasn’t a heat boiling inside you that made the hoodie you were wearing almost unbearable. You could see his breath pick up, his chest moving.

It was almost a bit awkward, he let out a chuckle—a giggle— and your face heated up. Hamzah had inched closer to you on the couch, crossing the barrier of the cushion, and you suddenly felt a lot more nervous.

You shifted, thinking maybe you had read the situation wrong. “What? You asked.” You wanted to get defensive, blow the whole thing off and finish watching the movie so you could run away and die.

The giggle stopped, and Hamzah’s voice became very genuine, a comforting, inviting smile on his lips, that you couldn’t help but stare at as he spoke, low and intimate. “No, no. I—thank you, is what I meant.” He paused watching you, “I got nervous.” There was that giggle again.

Uncrossing your arms, you turned to face him again, lowering your voice to match his. “In a good way?” Your eyes danced across his face. Although he tried his best to hide it, the shyness creeped up his neck and seeped into his expression. It was cute.

It was hot.

“Yeah.” It was almost a whisper.

His hand had moved up to his face again, half leaning into it, and half maybe to cover his face from the nervousness he was feeling.

And suddenly you felt very brave.

You scooted towards him, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist and lowering his hand from his face, watching as he chuckled again, leaning closer. “I think you look very good right now.”

Hamzah’s eyelids seemed to lower even more, and he hummed, his face hovering closer to yours, looking into your eyes through his lashes.

Fuck, you wanted him badly.

“You.. I—“ He started weakly.

There wasn’t enough time to process what you had done before you acted, closing the gap, pressing your lips together. You chest jumped at the feeling, and then flipped indefinitely when you realized he was kissing you back, heavily, needy. His large hand had splayed across your thigh, his other wrapping around the back of the couch as he leaned in.

Deciding after a few seconds that there wasn’t enough contact between you two, you moved your hand that was on his wrist up to his shoulder, then his neck, and the base of his jaw, guiding him to deepen the kiss, which he welcomed with fever, letting out a deep exhale through his nose. His hand became restless on your thigh, and he lazily moved it up and down, prompting you to scoot closer, where you eventually ended up on his lap.

For a moment the difference was odd, being slightly taller than him. But the way he looked up at you, god it was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. His beckoning hands shyly trailing up your sides.

You wanted to take this moment in. A moment to look at him. You laced your fingers into his curls at the back of his head, leaning down to connect your lips again, where you let out a breath into his mouth you didn’t know you were holding. It came out sounding like a whine, which he clearly didn’t expect, because there was a hesitation at your audible desire. He chanced it and licked into your mouth, which produced a real whine from you, pulling slightly at his hair.

His chest rumbled slightly with each breath, as his hands found their way under your hoodie and to your back. You pressed closer to him, wanting to be in contact with every part of him. You met his tongue with your own, finding your jaw becoming slightly sore.

Pulling back, you breathed heavily, looking at Hamzah, whose eyes were almost closed, also breathing deeply.

You sat up and ran both of your hands over his shoulders and chest from your position straddling him on the couch. Down his chest and over his stomach. You scooted back more, letting your hands roam over his thighs.

And god, they made you more wet. Squeezing them slightly in awe. They were so strong and you always found them incredibly sexy.

“Fuck Hamzah,” You breathed, and Hamzah raised his eyes from your hands on him to your face.

“Hmm?” He was smirking again, though it faltered slightly when your hands ran close to his dick.

“You’re so hot. Can I…I need to.” You let your fingers dance over his growing dick, and he jolted slightly.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, please.” It was quick, in one breath, desperate as he made eye contact with you, brows furrowed slightly.

Letting yourself caress him fully, you rubbed your flat hand over his bulge, stroking it between your pointed and middle finger, dancing all of your fingers over him.

Hamzah’s own hands were on your knees, squeezing them in reaction to your touches, his stomach flexing. You moved back more, allowing space to pull at the waistband of his basketball shorts that were probably too small, the way they hugged his ass and thighs. Pulling them down, he kicked them off and spread his legs wider, giving you access to his dick, that was growing hotter and hotter under your hand in his boxers.

His tip was sticky, and you used it when you wrapped your hand around him, stroking him up and down. Fuck, he was big. Girthy and heavy, stiff in your hand as you worked him.

The glimmer of sweat was beginning to form on Hamzah’s hairline, and he breathed heavily, still looking up at you. You used your other hand to push his hair back, leaning down to kiss him hard, trying to get more sounds out of him.

It worked, as the sensations seemed to overwhelm him, because he stopped kissing you back after a few seconds, screwing his eyes shut and groaning, leaning his head down and forward. “Fuck, shit.” He breathed, and his hips rolled up into your slick hand.

You stared at him, amazed. “Hamzah,”

You didn’t know why you said his name, maybe it was just acknowledgement in what you were seeing. Him being so pliable and good for you. “You’re so hot, holy shit.”

Even in the middle of getting his dick stroked, he managed to let out a chuckle, not quite used to your praise yet, or how much it excited him.

He was getting dangerously close before he stopped you, grabbing your wrist. “Hey, hey stop. Can I make you feel good? Please?”

You suddenly remembered your own need. The burning heat that shot straight from your stomach, inflaming your limbs and igniting your core. You didn’t have to hesitate to answer him this time. “Yes, yes.”

And you kissed him again, gentler, letting him take the lead. He did, and he grabbed your waist, and slowly laid you back onto the couch, using both his hands to hold up his weight above you as you hand your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. “I want you, so bad.”

Hamzah knelt between your legs, using his knees to spread them. “You’re so pretty. Your hair…looked really good today.”

The comment made you giggle unexpectedly, and you brushed it behind your ear. You remember dreading hanging out with Hamzah because you thought it was a particularly bad hair day for you. “Thank you, handsome. You are, you know? Really handsome.”

“I think I believe you.” Hamzah says, letting his eyes wander over your body.

You become aware of how hot you are, letting go of Hamzah to wiggle out of your hoodie, throwing it to the side. He grins, letting his hand fall to your hip, brushing his thumb over the material of your sweatpants. You kick them off shortly after, left in your underwear and sports bra. Too bad you weren’t wearing something cuter, but that did not seem to matter to Hamzah, he looked at you like you were the most gorgeous being he’s ever seen.

“You look good. Look hot.” It was a little awkward coming from his mouth, but it was so cute that it didn’t deter you one bit.

Instead you put your hands on his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. “Can you take this off for me?”

And he did without another word.

This position, felt so much more real. Hamzah was about to fuck you, and you were wanting it badly.

Hamzah leaned down to kiss you again, connecting his tongue to yours immediately, hands roaming up your waist to your bra, his fingertips slipping under the fabric. You grabbed his wrist and pushed his hand up, lifting your bra and making his hand meet your breast, to which you sighed at, the pressure of his hand feeling euphoric.

Taking your bra off fully, Hamzah pulled back to look at you. Only for a moment, though he was internal freaking out, he told himself he needed to act cool. So, he exhaled and found it in himself let his fingers wander, caressing you gently, firmly. When you let out a whine, he let out what sounded like a surprised cough, “Fuck,”

There seemed to be a lot of that, one word cursing. But it seemed to convey communication well, enough to be able to grasp each others thoughts.

You were kind of tired of it.

“Hamzah, fuck me. If you wanna.” You didn’t know another way to phrase it.

“I do, I will.” A whisper, almost sounding like a threat.

To you, it sounded like a promise.

Finding the waistband of his boxers in the dim lighting, you tugged on them weakly, and after Hamzah had pulled them off, you ran your hands over the curve of his hips and the small of his back, admiring him. God, you could do this all day, you thought, running your nails down his spine.

He shuddered for a second, looking at your underwear before repeating (maybe to himself again), “I will,” With more desperation, an airy voice that made your cunt writhe and stutter. He hooked two fingers at the bottom of the fabric by your leg, sliding them over your smooth legs, dropping them at your feet on the couch, behind him. “Baby,” he breathed, leaning to kiss you as his hand wandered, searing your body, down your stomach and to your cunt, and the same two fingers crazed your clit, sliding up the folds in an experimental way.

Jolting under him, you lifted your hips in protest. “Hamzah,” you warned, though it came out more like a plea.

Hamzah giggled into your neck, kissing it before moving back to your lips to give them a quick peck. He wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it a couple times, aligning it with your entrance, rubbing it through your wet folds and over your clit, you hissed out on pleasure at the contact, it was becoming unbearable to not have his dick in you right now. As soon as he started to push in, you wrapped your legs around him and squeezed, ushering him in faster.

“Okay, okay baby.” He cooed coolly, his other hand grasping at your waist for leverage to thrust in. “Ah, shit…” Once he was fully in, he didn’t have the resolve to wait, and immediately set a thorough, deep pace.

And just as quickly, you couldn’t think straight, restlessly squirming, trying to move in time with Hamzah’s thrusts, beckoning him to go faster. The stretch was mind-bending, you needed more. “Hamzah, harder. Please.”

“So polite,” he teased, and you sighed when he complied, though just as deep as before, the thrust became harder and licked the spot inside you that caused a moan to lurch from your throat.

As some form of gratitude, you kissed him, lacing your fingers back into his hair. It didn’t last long, as Hamzah’s cool demeanor was slowly melting, and his own moans seeped from his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing pleasantly when his head leant back. “You feel so fucking good,” he babbled, eyes closed, subconsciously moving faster. “So good.”

Fucked out, is what he looked like. Sweat had accumulated farther than his hairline, and upon his top lip that was glistening, occasionally wetted by his tongue that would flick out on concentration. His eyes were screwed shut, thick eyebrows furrowed.

You moved your hands from the back of his head to the top of his head, pushing his curls back that were almost covering his eyes, wanting him to look at you. “Hamzah, open.” You told him, and though it took a moment, he did, and blinked heavily at you, his brows furrowed even more, and his lips parted in a pant, that could have been mistaken for a lazy chuckle.

“Hey,” He said with faux coolness again, and you snickered.

“Keep going,” you grunted, “like that.” Moving in time with his thrusts became easy as mindless— like he made you feel about everything— and quickly you were approaching your climax, a red-hot rod shooting up your center from your cunt to your cheeks, and you new you were getting close.

The thought made you even more feverish, becoming louder and less concerned about your facial expressions. “I need—Hamzah I’m, ah—” He suddenly bit on you neck, not particularly hard, but the sensation was jarring enough, and it deployed a pang straight to your core, you squeezed around his cock desperately.

“I know, I know, baby. Come here.” Wrapping his hands around your torso and pulling you close to him as the reach of his thrusts increased, stroking your insides over and over again, and you finally teetered over the edge.

Hot magma poured from your center and oozed throughout your limbs, white heat flooding every cell, and you were trembling violently, opening your mouth in a moan and tilting you head back, to which Hamzah connected his mouth with again, letting out his own indications that he was on the brink of cumming, too.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, I—“

“Don’t stop,” you assured when he hesitated.

You were still riding out your high when the heat inside you increased, and Hamzah’s thrust were almost animalistic, nails digging into your waist in a way that made your eyes roll back, and your insides were drowned in his cum, deep and full. Hamzah’s hands immediately traveled up to your chest again, rubbing comfortingly over your breasts, he didn’t pull out for a moment, panting, swimming in the aftershock of his orgasm. You ran your nails up and down his back again, and felt the muscles in his back relax, and he eased into you, pulling out and letting his body weight fall comfortably on top of yours.

You twirled his hair in your fingertips, slightly scratching his scalp as your breaths fell in rhythm, hearts connected, chest to chest, and each others warmth’s joining into one, sleep-inducing flame.

“You okay?” He mumbled into your neck.

“Of course,” You replied, looking down at him. “Are you?”

“I…can’t think.” He admitted sheepishly, smiling and kissing your neck.

“Can you think enough to make it to the shower, handsome?” You smiled at him.

Hamzah grew a grin on his lips. “We’ll see.” And he slowly rolled off of you, throwing his boxers on easily, picking up a blanket for you that was on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you and picking up your clothes, setting it on the couch. “After you,” he gestured in front of him, and you led your way into the bathroom.

a/n: i never know how to end these ;-; srry if it was rushed or bad, i don’t know how to properly pace a story. not much of a writer, but the lack of fics igniting smth in my lizard brain.

lmk if u see any typos bc i am NOT proofreading allat😭🙏

#hamzahthefantasticsmut #hamzahthefantastic smut #hamzah fluff #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah fic #hamzah x y/n #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzahsmut #fanfic #writing #slushy noobz #archive of our own #ao3 #out of character.#streaming #freaky #martin and hamzah #not really

149 notes · View notes

fandoms--fluff · 2 days

Note

Little Natasha X Mama reader

On holiday with all the Avengers, Natty enjoys some Mama/ baby time on the beach.

(The other Avengers are amazing uncles and Aunts).

Diapers/ stuffies/ pacifiers/ story time / breastfeeding

Please and Thankyou 😊

Beach Day

Mama reader x Little Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: breastfeeding?

A/n: We're not gonna talk about how long this has been in my drafts. but i hope you like it <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Here ya go" Wanda hands you the bottle of sunscreen. "Thanks, Wands" You take the bottle and pack it into your tote bag.

"Where's Nat?" She asks, not seeing the regressed woman anywhere. "On the porch, she's been excited to go to the beach all day" You grin, thinking of your baby girl.

The team had decided to leave New York for a week and spend some time away from all the hustle and bustle of people. You guys had traveled up to Tony's massive house next to a beach. You're in serious need of knowing how many buildings and houses he actually owns, but you'll be able to pester him about that later.

Wanda follows you out to the porch under the blazing sun, her arms becoming full of Nat the moment she steps out the door. "Hey, sweetie" Wanda squeezes her before pulling back a bit.

"Hi! Mama's taking me to the beach!" Nat exclaims, jittering with excitement.

"Well that sounds really fun, you make sure you're good for her" Wanda rubs her back. "Okay, promise, Auntie Wanda" Nat nods before running over to where you're standing next to the 'trail' to the beach.

"Ready to go, baby girl?" You ask. "Mhm," she grasps your outstretched hand in hers.

"Alright. See you later, Wanda" You wave to her with your free hand. "Yeah, see ya" Wanda smiles, waving back before turning to go back inside the air-conditioned house.

You lead nat down the path to the beach, excitement buzzing out of her. As soon as you guys hit the hot sand beach, Nat let's go of your hand and runs down to the water.

Before you could yell out to her to stop, she gets intercepted by Steve. He lifts her up before she splashes into the cool water, "What do you think your doing running away from your Mama like that" he chuckles, walked back over to where you sat everything down.

"Wanna play in water, Uncle Steve" she pouts up to him, her eyes going wide. You sniffles your laughter at the face Steve makes, contemplating what he should do.

Finally he settles on, "I'm sure you do, but remember you need to listen to your Mama's instructions first" He places her down on the blanket you just laid out. "Hmm, okay" she nods her head, listening to Steve's words and turns her attention to you.

Nat runs over to you from the water, shivering. She's been in the water for the past hour, she had fun splashing around and playing with seaweed.

She runs into your open arms with a towel open. "Cold, mama!" She squeals as you wrap her up in the warm towel. Her pink swimsuit and swim diaper, wet from the ocean.

"Hey baby girl" you kiss the top of her head while you get situated on the big towel laid on the ground. "Let's get you all warmed up, hm?"

Nat's all bundled up in her towel and laid on your lap, soaking in all your body heat and the rays from the sun. "You're such a good girl" You lean down and kiss her forehead.

Nat nods in agreement, a smile curving at her lips. She brings up one of her hands and tugs down on your bikini top. "Mama" She looks up at you, her fingers curled around the damp fabric.

"You want milkies?" You ask, running your fingers through her hair. She nods her head, "Yes p'ease."

"Good manners." You hook your fingers in your bikini top and pull one of the sides down, letting your right breast loose of the fabric.

Nat leans in and latches onto your perked nipple. She wraps her lips around it and starts to suck. Slowly, a stream of milk starts flowing into her mouth.

As Nat drinks your milk, you rub one of your hands up and down her diapered butt, soothingly. You reach one of your hands into the bag you brought and pull out her gray stuffed bear.

"You want Paws?" You softly ask her. Nat opens her eyes and looks up at you, nodding. You place the fluffy bear in her open hands and watch as she snuggles with it while still suckling.

When you guys get back to the beach house, you settle a sleepy Nat on the couch next to Tony. "Hey, Nat" Tony looks up from the book he was reading and smiles to her.

"Hi unca Tony" Nat mumbles sleepily. "Hey, sweetheart" Tony smiles to the redhead. She still has Paws in her arms and cuddles with him, eyes half closed.

Tony closes the book and places it on the wooden coffee table. "Did you have fun with Mama on the beach?" He asks the little.

"Mhm, wen' swimmin and lay with mama in da sun" She tells the older man, her voice filled with sleep.

You sit next to Nat, her being between you and Tony. "You want a story, Baby Girl? Cause I think Uncle Tony has some good ones" You kiss the top of her head.

Nat nods her head and snuggles her head into Tony's shoulder, looking up at him expectantly. "Alright, Sweetheart. Let's see, hmmm." He places his finger on his chin, tapping it comically.

"Ahah. Once upon a time, there was a princess, she grew up in the jungle. She was friends with all the animals and..." Tony started telling a story.

Nat Slowly starts to doze off while listening to Tony's story. You watch and listen with a smile on your face. Tony sure melts and gets all soft when he's in the vicinity of Nat.

80 notes · View notes

djarins-cyare · 2 days

Text

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym

@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr

@lark-of-mirkwood @latenightswithmiller @lilac-boo @magpiepills @mandoloriancookie

@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

@prolix-yuy @roughdaysandart @secretelephanttattoo @sidoniyablackwood @sixhours

@syd-djarin @the-blind-assassin-12 @theetherealbloom @the-mandawhor1an @thundermartini

@toomanytookas @vikingqueen28 @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @whocaresstillthelouvre @whxtedreams

@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

78 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 2 days

Text

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Yeah,” Billy says after a moment. “I’m not gonna make you do stuff like that. Um, well, like some normal chores and following your curfew and taking your phone with you when you go out, I mean, but not like–um. Yeah.”

Lynn doesn’t say anything. He just keeps looking into the living room. Billy looks too, but doesn’t see what he’s looking at. His line of sight’s too high to be looking at Tawky, and the TV’s off, and–

Oh. Actually . . .

Is he looking at the windows, actually?

Huh, Billy thinks again.

Lynn stops looking at the windows, or maybe just the living room, and then goes and opens the oven and stares blankly into it for a moment. Then he reaches in bare-handed and–

“Oven mitt!” Billy says quickly, zipping over to him and grabbing a pair of them off the hook they’re hanging on on the way. Lynn stares at him just as blankly as he was staring into the oven, and also just as blankly as he’s been staring at him, and probably he’s thinking Billy is stupid because he’s, like, invulnerable and all, but the thing is–“Secret identity,” he clarifies, and holds the mitts out to Lynn. “You gotta be careful about doing stuff baseline humans can’t, even if you think you’re alone or only around people in the know. And like, you have to make it a habit to do stuff baseline humans would have to anyway, or you might forget to when you aren’t alone. Also Batman didn’t install the new windows yet so I’m not sure if these are privacy ones, honestly, so somebody could maybe see from across the street anyway?”

Lynn stares at him for another moment, then flicks his eyes down to the oven mitts. Billy feels awkward and kind of like a worrywart, but it is important. He definitely doesn’t turn into Captain Marvel when anybody else even might be watching, and also if Lynn’s keeping those habits from the start it’ll be easier for him in the long run, right? Or at least, Billy thinks it’ll be easier? Like–probably?

He fidgets a little and tries not to look nervous. Lynn glances at his face for a moment even though his own expression doesn’t change at all, then takes the oven mitts and . . . well, he uses them more like potholders than actually, like, putting them on, but still counts, Billy figures. Lynn takes out all the pans and puts them all on top of the stove, and then closes it and sets aside the oven mitts and turns it off.

“. . . thanks,” Lynn says more in the oven’s direction than Billy’s. Billy feels a little relieved, because “don’t do stuff baseline humans can’t when it’s not safe to” is a pretty important thing, so far as secret IDs and all go.

“Sure!” Billy says, then peeks curiously at the food. “So, um . . . is it done?”

“. . . it has to rest for five minutes,” Lynn says, and then turns away abruptly and walks into the living room to bring back the plates, which is, um, probably something Billy should’ve remembered was gonna need to happen before he took them out there, come to think.

Whoops.

Well, he guesses they could use serving dishes, probably, because Batman bought them way too much everything and there are so, so many serving dishes, but that’s more dishes to wash so yeah, Lynn’s definitely taking the right approach here, Billy decides.

Though he has no idea why dinner has to rest. Like–what does that even mean, “rest”? It’s food.

“. . . why?” Lynn asks, and holds up Tawky’s little plate with a faint frown.

“Oh, Tawky doesn’t need as much to eat as you do,” Billy clarifies. Tawky only needs a lot to eat when he’s being a full-sized tiger, and he’s being an stuffed animal the same way Billy’s being a dad right now instead of just Captain Marvel, so he won’t have the stomach space for big meals until, like, the next time they have to save the world, probably. Or a mission. Or something like that, anyway. “Or as much to eat as you probably do, since we’re still figuring that out. But probably not, either way. Like–I don’t need to eat either, I mean, but like, different-sized stomachs and all, sooo . . . bigger plate, I guess. Sorry, is that rude, do you think? I wasn’t trying to be.”

“. . . uh,” Lynn says slowly, frowning at Tawky’s plate instead. “Okay.”

Well, it’s not exactly an answer, but Billy guesses he can double-check with Tawky later. It’s kind of more important what Tawky thinks anyway, since it’s him he’d be being rude to, and also he really shouldn’t be expecting Lynn to really get, like, manners and intent versus affect and that kind of thing yet anyway. Although either way having a full-sized tiger in the apartment would definitely not be great for the secret identity thing, even just for mealtimes, so they’d have to figure something out there.

Well, he guesses they could just go to the Rock of Eternity for dinner, actually? Like, cook in the apartment but pack themselves dinner-picnics or something. Actually, that sounds kinda fun, he’d like to show Lynn what it’s like and maybe explain a little more about what accepting a share of his powers would mean, if he did, and–

Focus. He definitely needs to work on his focus. That’s way more important when he’s being a dad. He doesn’t want Lynn to ever think he’s ignoring him, for one.

“I’ll ask him later,” Billy says. Tawky’s probably still reading anyway; he was while Billy was setting the coffee table. He had the biography of Nikola Tesla they’d picked out, which is pretty normal reading fare for Tawky, really. He likes nonfiction a lot, especially the historical stuff. Billy doesn’t really get it, personally.

#billy batson #conner kent #captain marvel #shazam #superboy #young justice #young justice animated #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!#qwertynerd97

85 notes · View notes

theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter · 14 hours

Text

Insecurities 🥅🧤

Cata Coll x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗, angst 💣💔

summary :

Cata comes home after a tough day of training, feeling the pressure from her team. You reassure her that she’s not a burden and remind her of how talented she is.

It was another quiet evening at home when you heard the front door click open, followed by the familiar sound of Cata's duffel bag dropping to the floor. You glanced up from your book, a smile already spreading across your face as you heard her footsteps approach.

“Long day?” you asked as she stepped into the living room, her Barça jacket slung over one shoulder, her usually sharp expression softened by the sight of you.

Cata nodded, running a hand through her tousled hair, clearly exhausted from training. “You could say that.” She dropped onto the couch beside you, leaning back with a long sigh. “They were pushing us hard today, and I’m pretty sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.”

You chuckled, setting your book aside and shifting closer to her. “Want me to make you something to eat? Or do you just want to rest?”

She gave you a grateful smile, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Well, someone has to take care of you, star goalkeeper,” you teased, squeezing her hand gently.

Cata's eyes twinkled at the nickname, and she playfully nudged your shoulder with hers. “Yeah, but I’m supposed to be the tough one.”

“And you are,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But even goalkeepers need someone to help them wind down after a long day.”

She smiled, the exhaustion in her eyes easing slightly as she leaned into your touch. "Maybe I could just stay like this for a while," she murmured, her voice low and content.

You nodded, letting the comfortable silence settle over the room. Cata closed her eyes, resting her head on your shoulder, and you stayed like that for a long time, the world outside fading as you focused on just being together.

---

The next few days passed in a comfortable rhythm, the usual routine of Cata's training schedule and your shared evenings at home. Despite the physical toll of her intense practices, there was always something serene about your time together—whether it was unwinding on the couch, cooking dinner, or simply being wrapped up in each other’s company.

But this week felt different. Something lingered in the air, an unspoken tension in Cata’s posture whenever she returned home, her body tired but her mind clearly elsewhere.

One evening, after a particularly long day for both of you, Cata came home quieter than usual. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow as she kicked off her shoes and dropped her gear bag in the usual spot. Without saying much, she made her way to the kitchen where you were chopping vegetables for dinner.

"Everything alright?" you asked gently, noticing how she avoided your gaze, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.

Cata sighed, running a hand through her hair as she looked out the window. "Yeah, just... it's nothing serious. Just some pressure from the team." Her voice was strained, and though she was trying to sound casual, you knew her too well.

Setting down the knife, you wiped your hands and walked over to her, slipping your arms around her waist from behind. "Cata," you whispered, resting your head against her shoulder. "You can talk to me, you know."

She exhaled, leaning back into your embrace. "I know, I just... I’ve been off my game lately. Coach noticed, teammates noticed." Her voice dropped. "I feel like I’m letting them down."

You turned her around, gently lifting her chin so her eyes met yours. “Cata, you’re the best goalkeeper in the league. A couple of off days won’t change that.”

Her eyes softened at your words, but the worry still lingered. "It's not just that. I feel like I’m not balancing things well. I don’t want to come home and be this... burden."

You frowned, shaking your head as you cupped her face. "You are never a burden, Cata. I’m here to support you, through everything. Bad days, good days, all of it."

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just studying your face as if grounding herself in your presence. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at her lips. "What did I do to deserve you?"

You grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Not much, really. I just happen to like the view from the stands.”

That earned you a soft laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing as she pulled you closer. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

“It's my job,” you replied with a wink. “Now, how about we eat, and later we can watch something dumb and forget about the rest of the world for a bit?”

Cata nodded, her smile growing a little brighter. “Sounds perfect.”

Later that night, you found yourselves tangled on the couch, some mindless reality show playing on the TV, but neither of you really paying attention. Cata was dozing off, her head resting in your lap as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through her hair. The weight of her earlier worries seemed to have faded, replaced by the comfort of the quiet evening.

As you sat there, looking down at her peaceful face, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of pride. Being with Cata was more than just the highlight reels and the stadium cheers—it was moments like this, where you got to support her in ways no one else could.

“I love you,” you whispered softly, even though you were sure she was already asleep.

But to your surprise, Cata shifted slightly, her lips curving into a small, sleepy smile. “I love you too,” she mumbled, her voice thick with drowsiness.

You chuckled quietly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. As the night continued to fall around you both, you knew that no matter the pressures of the pitch or the challenges ahead, you’d always have each other to lean on.

And that was all either of you needed.

#woso x reader #barca x reader #barca femeni #barca femini x reader #fc barcelona #fc barca #cata coll #cata coll x reader

61 notes · View notes

blackenedsnow · 2 days

Note

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

#beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice x reader #beetlejuice movie #x reader #oneshot #ask #request #fanfic

54 notes · View notes

wickedscribbles · 1 day

Text

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 4 (final)

Masterlist

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch.3

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: smut, fluff, pet names, biting, rimming, enthusiastic consent, multiple orgasms, messy sex, power bottom Logan, top Wade, teasing/banter, dirty talk, anal sex, mild genderplay

Word Count: 5K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

Wade has him on his back so fast the world tilts.

Logan’s willing to go where he wants, especially if that place is upside down on their mattress. He lands hard enough to bounce a little, huffing out a laugh, the sound ending in a pleased hum as Wade goes right back to kissing him. He wraps his legs around Wade’s waist, cups his face in his hands, wanting to touch him everywhere. This is the kind of prelude to sex that leaves him breathless; not too fast, not too slow, the anticipation of it all clinging to their skin like static.

Above him, Wade can’t seem to decide if he wants to keep kissing him – rough and enthusiastic – or talk about everything that's coming next.

“God, you looked so fucking hot punching that walking protozoa –” he gasps the words right into Logan’s mouth, and Logan can only grin back, chasing Wade’s lips for more. “Love it when you’re mean like that –”

“Oh, do you?”

“You know I do, smartass,” Wade says, his tone and his face so full of love that he might as well have called him angel. His mouth travels to the sensitive place under Logan’s jaw, teasing with teeth. “Will you tear someone in half for me next time? Will you tear me in half?”

Logan can’t stop fucking smiling. Even as he arches up and into the kisses tracing along the line of his throat, he’s smiling, feeling floaty and stupid and turned on.

“Not in the apartment, ya freak,” he manages.

He isn’t deterred. “Your freak,” Wade says. “And no, I'd wait til we took a little trip out to the woods like you want.”

“I'd like that.”

“Tearing me in half?” Wade's mouth pauses, hot and wet, at Logan's collarbone to ask the question.

“Takin’ a trip,” Logan corrects, panting a little now. Squirming for more attention, his cock hard trapped between their bodies.

“Oh, okay, okay. So we can screw in the woods without having to worry about staining the sheets? And play out the ‘fucking a lumberjack’ fantasy one of us may or may not be harboring?”

Logan raises an eyebrow at the lumberjack bit, but chooses to say nothing. Hey, whatever floats his boat. God knows they’ve done far stranger things.

“Sure. Or fuckin’ up the carpet. Been a minute since we had a real rollaround.”

Wade hums his agreement at that, trailing a delicate hand down the length of Logan’s bicep, then his forearm, until their fingertips are touching. Logan’s fingers twitch when he touches them, their hands intertwining. Willingly, he lets Wade bring his hand to his mouth – knows instantly what he wants him to do. He opens his mouth and takes Wade’s fingers on his tongue.

“Good boy,” Wade breathes, and Logan can feel himself leaking in his boxers, dripping a spot against the cotton. He pants out a shaky sort of noise in answer, maybe an agreement or disagreement to the praise, he doesn't know, can’t think. “Yeah, you know just what to do, don’t you?”

His lips close around what's in his mouth, tight, sucking at them just like he'd sucked Wade's cock this morning. Getting them sloppy, dribbling with spit, some of it stringing out of his mouth and into his facial hair. There are still days when they're in too big of a damn hurry to care, but this foreplay is erotic on its own, too.

For a while, they linger suspended in that moment, Wade straddling his lap and watching with fascinated eyes as his fingers move slowly in and out of Logan's mouth. They look at each other, into each other, long past the shyness.

The way Wade looks at him still makes Logan burn, two parts of him trying to run away from one another. It's nice to be wanted. It's terrifying to be wanted. He thinks that the fear of ruining this is getting quieter, though. He hopes.

“Wanna try something,” Wade says all at once, his face brightening with the type of mischief Logan knows only too well. “Here – lift up for a minute –”

Letting Wade’s fingers slide out of his mouth, he does as he's told, spreading his legs a little wider as Wade reaches behind them for one of the pillows. He places it just underneath Logan's hips, turning his attention back to his naked torso, raining kisses on his body.

“Need these off,” Wade murmurs, almost to himself, tugging at Logan's boxers. Breathing shakily, he obliges him, kicking them to the floor. His cock springs up as Wade sheds him pajamas as well, resting heavy above his abdomen in anticipation. He's fucking restless for something, anything, a flurry of past positions floating past his eyes like a slideshow.

For a few seconds, Logan thinks it's his turn to get sucked off, and he's definitely not complaining. Wade lavishes attention on the meeting of his hip and thigh, biting in just the right way to make Logan jump, smirking to himself when he earns an arch off the mattress for more. Logan's palm rests on his head, encouraging. Trusting.

But he bypasses Logan's cock like it's not there. Instead, he trails past, licking a stripe down his balls, pressing his scarred palms to Logan's thighs to spread them wider, and – oh. Oh okay. Wade’s hot breath hesitates over his hole for only an instant before his tongue is tracing the most delicate circles.

“F-fuck!”

Logan squirms at the unexpected sensation, curling his toes. He feels Wade's hands twitch where they rest on his inner thighs, and looks down to see him looking back.

“Okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, s’good, I just didn't know –” Logan answers, far too quickly. He blinks, a lot, in an effort to remember how to put one word in front of the other. “You can keep going. If you want.”

“If I want,” Wade repeats wryly. “Yeah, okay, champ.”

Only capable of swallowing hard in response, Logan lets his head fall back against the mattress, his whole body tense with the thought of what's going to happen next. He feels Wade's breath back at his hole, and God, it's so sensitive there, his tongue lapping at him as he spreads his legs further.

It's not quite like anything he's felt before. It's good.

“Relax,” comes Wade's voice, light with amusement before his fucking tongue goes right back to Logan's ass. His knee gets pushed up, opening him like an old paperback.

He's aware that his chest is rising and falling and rising and falling, a rapid in and out. The little circles that Wade traces with his tongue shift into broader strokes, something deeper. Logan moans with the change, thrusting up into nothing.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, Red,” he says softly, his voice coming out smaller than he thought it would. “I don’t, I haven’t –n-never –”

He’s aware that he doesn’t make any sense, but Wade doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it encourages him, a low hum drawn from the other man’s throat as he pulls away to look at him. His eyes are massive between the vee of Logan’s legs.

“Never ever? Am I actually taking a sweet, precious piece of your virginity?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan whines. “Keep going.”

Wade ducks back down, but not before babbling something about best day of his life and definitely going on Tumblr (and it had better not).

He can’t wait anymore for Wade to touch him, fuck him, whatever he’d planned to add to the mix. Getting eaten out is such a tease but he needs more and he needs it now. Logan grasps his cock, already slippery with pre-come, and starts a rhythm that has his head swimming immediately.

With a hiss, Wade digs his nails into the flesh of his thighs, groaning into him. Logan has a feeling that if his mouth were free to say something, he’d be giving him a string of encouragement. Shit, even imagining what Wade would be saying is enough to turn him on.

Moaning out something that strongly resembles Wade’s name buried in a sea of praise, Logan grinds back on his face, chasing more, so so so close.

That’s it, baby, the Wade in his head says. Actual Wade is panting hard against his ass now, getting sloppy. Come for me. Know you want to. Pretty pretty please.

Logan’s eyes roll back. He comes in frenetic bursts all over Wade’s face and shoulder, vaguely aware that now he has pulled away to praise him, kissing up and down Logan's thigh to watch the whole show. Logan's hands scrabble in the sheets, some pathetic little sound coming out of his throat.

“Peanut, Jesus fucking Christ…”

He says something like ungh in answer, looking down at Wade covered in his come. He is so hot with that satisfied smirk on his face, it’s ridiculous. And then he takes a finger and drags it across the side of his face, where there’s a streak of Logan’s spend, and pops it into his mouth.

Fuck, okay.

Barely done from their first round, Logan’s cock twitches again.

“Got me good, Pollock,” Wade comments, still wearing that crooked grin that makes his heart do shit that Logan would worry about if he didn’t know it was always healing. “You liked that, huh?”

It takes a lot to resist the urge to say no shit, but Logan manages. Instead, he runs his hand up and down Wade’s cheek, feeling his spend there all sticky, his mind swimming with sex-drunk praise (you’resofuckingprettywantyousobadithurts).

“Gonna sit on your dick now,” he says instead, and Wade backs off of him fast to allow that to happen.

Their places swapped, Logan palms at Wade’s cock tenderly, not missing the way Wade’s lips part on a soft little ah of need. Wade’s dick is damn near perfect, fulfilling every stupid fantasy Logan had before he worked up the guts to come knocking on his door and do something about it. Bottoming out on Wade still stretches him out so full and delicious, turns him dumb in a way that topping him doesn’t – though he won't say no to either.

He lifts his hips, situating Wade underneath him, when he sees two fingers trailing up his chest.

“Sure you’re wet enough?” Wade teases. “Could finger you a little more, just to be safe.”

Fingertips land on Logan’s mouth, and oh, does this man know how to push his luck. Faking a scowl, Logan takes Wade’s middle finger playfully between his teeth and bites down hard, breaking skin and crushing bone. Blood wells up all at once, his mouth full of copper, and Wade gasps in delight as his cock twitches against Logan’s inner thigh.

“There’s my kitty cat,” he praises, grinning like floodlights. Though broken, his finger is still hanging on after he pulls it away. “Aww, you didn't bite it off this time.”

“‘M feelin’ generous.”

“God!” Wade laughs as Logan guides himself down, trailing off halfway through whatever quip he’d cooked up. He grabs Logan's thighs, moaning at the sensation. “Fuck, princess, you’re still so fuckin’ tight –”

As Logan seats himself fully, he can tell that Wade’s already regretting not being on top. His mouth is doing that cute little scrunch thing it does when he gets impatient. But Logan loves seeing Wade all desperate, too horny to think straight, begging to fuck him or be fucked. If Logan weren’t just as desperate half the time, he’d make Wade wait ages for what he wants. Maybe someday they’ll cool down enough to try that.

Maybe.

Because despite having already come once already, Logan’s not in much better shape. Getting eaten out had eased the way for Wade inside him, but the stretch is still toeing the edge of pain and bliss. He knows as soon as they move, it’ll melt nicely into the latter.

“Hurry up and fuck me,” Wade says, pouting. He’s already breathless, his face flushed, gripping Logan’s thighs so hard that they’re bruising and healing and bruising again in a continuous cycle. It’s so hot. “Please please please, you’re so tight, I’m not gonna last, please.”

If that doesn’t light Logan up from the inside out, nothing will.

Pausing only to give him a yeah, okay, Logan grinds his hips down hard. Wade’s answering whine is like magic, high and keening, something that Logan’s going to replay in his mind over and over like the mixtapes high schoolers used to make for each other to flirt. He could probably pick out each individual note, tell you the crescendo, see the arc of it burned on the inside of his eyelids.

Wade looks like a porn star underneath him, mouth hanging open, eyes unfocused, hips meeting Logan’s perfectly every – fucking – time. Logan’s cock is flushed and hard between them again, slapping skin with every thrust.

“Logan,” Wade moans out.

Logan’s thrusts get just a little harder, a little faster. That tight tight sensation of climax sits somewhere in the bottom of his stomach, in reach if he worked for it, but he’s nowhere as close as Wade is. Wade’s delirious with it, right there sitting on the brink, and Logan feels like he’s on fire with how sexy he finds the man.

“Yeah?” Logan purrs back.

“So fuckin’ close, right there, gonna come –”

“I can tell.”

Later, Wade will give him shit for being such a tease – and tell him how hot it was. But for now, Logan pins both of Wade’s wrists in place, knowing he’ll try to cover his face. He wants to watch the whole show, not just the trailer. He lets his fingers trace through the other man’s, a part of him loving the added intimacy, and greedily takes in every second of Wade coming inside him.

“Lo-ogan, ah, shit shit shit –!”

Wade rolls his hips up slow and deep as he comes, head thrown back, filling Logan with warmth. Logan honest-to-God shivers, knowing his cock is drooling all over Wade’s stomach just from watching him. Playing with him a little, Logan gently thrusts down, stimulating him through the aftershocks just to watch him gasp and jolt. The little sounds he makes after coming, all fucked-out and satiated, are right up there for Logan with the usual sounds of sex.

(Huh. Maybe he likes Wade’s voice even more than he thought.)

Wade's face is still flushed when he can make eye contact again, and Logan only smiles at him, pleased with himself.

“No fair,” Wade grumbles.

Logan leans down to kiss him, bumping their foreheads together. They’re both covered in a fine sheen of sweat, among other things, and he lingers there to get Wade to kiss him back nice and slow. At this point, he really does feel drunk, heavy-limbed and satisfied without the theoretical liver damage.

“Don’t see what’s unfair about it,” Logan replies once they’ve broken away again. “Just gave me a damn good show on top of a phenomenal fuck. If I could reach my wallet right now, I’d tip ya.”

“Peanut, I swear on Fox Studio’s grave, if you keep pulling this kind of dialogue out of nowhere I’m going to have a stroke.” Wade turns to glare at a random corner of the room. “And you had better watch it. We did not talk about this before the chapter started.”

Threats to no one aside, Logan just shakes his head, unfazed. Something makes him want to keep talking, and he’s not sure if it’s how loose and warm his body feels, or the day they’ve had, or a combination of both.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you come,” he confesses, and Wade looks up at him with what can only be described as a mix of shock and horror.

“Oooookay, that’s enough for you, big guy –”

Wade struggles to get out from underneath him, attempting to lift his hips, but it’s no use. Logan sees it coming and shifts his weight more fully onto the mattress, effectively trapping him in place.

“Nope,” he says, unable to keep from sounding a little smug. “Think I’m gonna set my big adamantium ass right here until you learn to take a compliment.”

“Yeah? And what if I shoot my way out?”

It doesn’t surprise Logan in the slightest when Wade pulls the .45 from behind the headboard and aims it between his eyes. It does, however, annoy him. He sinks down further, aware that Wade’s gone soft, come slipping loose in a steady stream between their bodies onto the sheets.

“Rhonda’s gonna be pissed if she hears a gunshot, you know that. Slap us with another fee for damages, and I sure as shit ain’t coverin’ it just because you don’t want to hear how goddamn good you look.”

Wade’s finger plays with the trigger, stroking it as if in thought. His mouth scrunches. In all honesty, Logan wouldn’t mind a shot or two – it’s been a while since he’s taken one, and he knows Wade wouldn’t get him anywhere awful. They like each other well enough to spare major head wounds now, and that’s typically the only unspoken rule.

But to his surprise, Wade puts the gun back where he’d stashed it, flopping his head back on the pillows with a dramatic sigh.

“Fine, you monumental pain in my ass. What else do you want to tell me that’s so important?”

Logan pauses a moment, amused. He wasn’t quite sure he’d get this far. Half of him pictured this ending in an all-out bloodbath – the kind they’d have to replace the sheets and the carpet for. Maybe even have to paint the walls again. God, he wishes they didn’t live in a fucking apartment – or the city.

“You’re hot as hell, Wade,” he starts. Wade’s mouth is very scrunched, eyebrows drawn down in a similar pout. He looks like he’d rather be sitting on a stick of lit dynamite than listening to this. “What, you didn’t think I thought that? When we’ve been fuckin’ each other senseless for this long?”

“Just thought maybe I had a magic dick,” Wade mutters.

“Hah. Never said you don’t.”

Logan finally lets Wade’s cock slip out of him entirely, crawling up until his mouth is inches from Wade’s. The proximity makes the other man’s eyes dilate, breath catching, and Logan could live off of the thick smell of sweat and lust and come they’ve created in this room together.

He kisses Wade, quick, just a taste, and leaves him wanting more.

“You’re fuckin’ funny.”

Another kiss, this time a little deeper, Wade reaching up for him with half a grin on his face. He’s getting hard again – Logan can feel it against the muscles of his abdomen. The next time Wade's mouth collides with his, he brings teeth, taking Logan's bottom lip and pulling hard enough to make him moan.

“You’re – wild – to watch in a fight. Sweet – to the people you care about.”

They’re making out in earnest now, Logan gasping to get the words out as Wade drinks him up.

“You –uh!”

Caught off guard, Logan doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as Wade flips him on his side. Nose to nose with one another now, he lets Wade continue his desperate barrage of kisses, hooking an arm around Logan’s neck. Their stiff cocks rub together, tantalizing friction, and Wade trails his lips to Logan’s ear.

“You like me all that much, get on your hands and knees.”

His voice is low and sultry in a way that lets Logan know that they’re far from done. Laughing softly, Logan does as he asks, Wade moving around him as if they’re different parts of the same body. Planting his palms on the mattress, he closes his eyes in anticipation. Wade slides his cock against his ass, the briefest tease, before placing himself at his entrance.

He doesn't waste time pushing back inside. Logan's body takes him easily, a breathless sound of excitement leaving him as Wade’s hands come to settle on his hips. Though he can't see Wade's face, he can feel the shift in energy – he can hear Wade's heart pumping fast, sense his heightened enthusiasm.

Settled inside Logan up to the hilt, Wade shifts his hips in a lazy figure eight.

“You ready?”

Logan nods, his uh-huh coming out like a groan of pleasure. He stares down at his own spread hands, the ruined sheets, biting his lip as Wade continues to tease him.

It doesn't last long. Less than a second passes between his confirmation and Wade’s first sharp thrust, bullying Logan forward before he can get his bearings. Wade wastes no time in setting a punishing rhythm, leaving him helpless to do anything but arch back into what he's getting.

He pants and moans every time Wade comes close to nailing that spot, feeling his claws start to slip out bit by bit. Their mattress topper is in bits and pieces under the cover of the sheet, more foam chunks than anything now, and he's about to make it a lot worse. Logan lets himself sink claws deep into the padding, leaning his face forward into the pillows to muffle the most embarrassing of the noises he's making.

Wade isn't letting him get away that easily.

“That's my fucking big boy,” he breathes, and Logan lights up with a blush bright enough to color his fucking chest. His cock jumps. “Take me so well every time, don't ya? Every – fuckin' – inch?”

Oh god oh fuck.

“Wade,” he says into the pillows, practically mewling out the word. Latched into the mattress with his claws anchoring him in place as Wade nails that incredible place right there oh fuck oh Christ. “Hah, fuck, you gotta slow down, or – I –”

“Or what, sweetheart?”

A clever hand reaches around to jerk Logan's cock, nice and deep the way he needs it, and Logan moans so deep in his throat it comes out more like a growl. Wade matches his thrusts in time, slower now but fuller, getting Logan to cry out louder than he'd ever admit he gets.

“You gotta slow down, Red,” Logan manages to repeat, but he already knows it's no use. “Gotta s-slow down, oh f-fuck!”

He comes much harder than he thought he would, hissing out a string of swears into the poor abused mattress. Coating the sheets below him, watching as some dribbles onto his thigh. Wade pushes his hips higher, fucking him through it like it's easy, his fingers brushing soothing circles as Logan shivers and spills and pants.

His whole body tingles with that sensitive sensation he's come to equate with powerfully good sex, with a certain look in Wade's eyes or a tone in his voice. He's going to feel this later, the honey-hum ache lingering in every muscle, but it's more than worth it.

“Flip over,” Logan insists after the moment has passed. “Wanna watch you come again.”

A cocky tsk from behind him catches Logan off guard. A gentle hand lands on the curve of his ass. Loving.

“Aw, peanut. Baby. Who said you were done?” Wade’s voice comes out light and cheerful, but they both know what the undercurrent holds.

Yeah, he's definitely in his bossy little top mood now, Logan thinks. Not that he doesn't find it incredibly hot. But it's also fun to be a bit of a brat every once and a while.

“Don't think I can,” he tries, sliding his claws out of the mattress but settling firmly. “C'mon, Wade. Fuck me ‘til you finish.” Logan hesitates. “Please?”

An equally long pause. He can almost hear Wade thinking.

“Nahhh,” he decides. “You can do one more for me, then I'll fill you up until you fucking drip.”

This time, the pointed gap in the air is for Logan to really say no, use a safe word, if he needs to. And he definitely doesn't need to, doesn't want to. Besides, he's never been one to back away from a challenge, especially if it's Wade who's handing it out.

“Yes, sir,” Logan says mockingly, lifting his ass back up in the air.

He hears Wade make a strangled little noise of want before gripping his ass tight.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, pushing Logan down until he's flat on his stomach on the bed.

Logan’s pretty sure he whines at that. It’s hard to tell anymore.

To say that the sheets are saturated in come would be an understatement at this point, but Logan can't focus on that as much as he's focusing on getting hard again, Wade’s teeth sinking deep into the side of his neck. The pain is nothing compared to the pleasure, a drop of water in the ocean – and Logan’s fucking dying of thirst.

He breaks the skin. Granted, it takes a little more effort for him to do it than it does for Logan, but he doesn’t mind the extra gnashing around. Chewing on his neck like it’s a goddamned squeaky toy. He’s flattered by it, in a way, that Wade would do all that just to spill blood for sex.

Wade’s tongue laps at the ring of blood he’s produced as he presses into his ass again, slow, and Logan can tell that he’s trying to hold back. To really spoil him with this extra orgasm, instead of keeping it all tit for tat. He doesn’t know why – he’ll pester him later about it and only get ‘cause I love you and I wanted to, you fuckin’ beefslab of a man, in answer.

But right now, Wade’s hot, panting mouth trails to Logan’s ear, and his teeth pull on the lobe, hard. Logan bares his neck further with a near silent intake of breath, wordless permission, and that’s all that Wade needs. Without further ado, Wade’s teeth seize around the loose cartilage and bite, ripping it off in a gush of blood.

“Fuck –!” Logan hisses, feeling the warmth of it trickle down on the sheets near his face.

“I’m trying my best, dollface,” Wade says sweetly in reply. Logan wishes he could see him. “You have no idea how good you look like that, all spread out like a two dollar whore on nickel night. Really putting my stamina to the test.”

He sighs, moving his hips so gently he may as well not be moving them at all. Despite insisting that Wade come a final time so that they could be finished with the whole romp, Logan finds himself growing impatient. There’s blood in it for him now, literally, and his cock is throbbing where it’s trapped against his stomach and the bed.

“But when a Scout makes a promise, they keep a promise. Right?”

“I promise you’re a pain in my ass,” Logan huffs. “Wade, c’mon, if you’re gonna fuck me then fuck me, don’t just –”

The words screw around are a little lost in the sudden snapping of Wade’s hips. Logan gasps instead, taken off guard by the instant ferocity of it. One of Wade’s hands grips a fistful of Logan’s hair, rough, incredible, while the other palm stays firm at his hip, holding them both in place.

“What were you saying, honey badger?” Though the words are innocent, Wade’s voice hits his (regenerating) ear in a mocking growl, all exertion.

Logan can’t even form a fucking sentence, let alone a smartass response. Wade knows him well enough, is smart enough to know exactly where his prostate is, how deep to press and for how long. He can play his body like an instrument few have taken the time to learn, let alone master.

Sinking his claws back into the mattress, scrabbling for any sort of purchase, Logan presses his face into the pillows with a desperate sound. He wants to tell Wade how good it feels, that he’s nailing his prostate just right, stirring up a heat inside of him that no one’s ever quite hit before, so good he wants to sob, but all he can do is lie there ass up and gasp out with every thrust. He tries to match Wade’s pace, hold the rhythm.

“Am I nailing your g-spot, baby?” Wade purrs, and something like scandal and delight war for attention in Logan’s mind. “Yeah, I feel you, pussy so fuckin’ tight.”

“Wade, o-oh Christ,” he says, breath hitching. Tears sting the corners of his eyes and he’s torn between so many points of pleasure and his cock is gliding as Wade pushes him forward, he’s going to come again, just as Wade had said he would – “ – Wade, Wade, Wade –”

He’s still chanting Wade’s name, voice rising an octave or so, as orgasm hits him like a goddamn train. The warmth of it coats his belly and chest, his face muffled deep into the pillows – tears and spit dampening the material. He arches back hard as Wade thrusts a handful of times to finish not long behind him.

“Fuck,” Wade says under his breath. “Kitty cat, oh fuck yes.”

The quiet that falls after, only their combined breath, is so deep and peaceful that Logan passes out almost right away. He isn’t sure how long Wade lets him sleep – only that he wakes up to his shoulder being shaken gently, Wade standing beside the bed with a fond smirk on his face.

“You’re gonna be stuck to the bed if you stay there like that, cowboy,” he tells him, offering a hand to help him up. “C’mon. Let’s get clean.”

Logan makes a grumpy sort of sound, too comfortable to want to move. “Only if we get to sleep all day tomorrow.”

Wade’s face brightens at the idea. “Fuck yeah – pile all the blankets on the couch and order takeout?”

It sounds like a dream come true.

“Yeah.”

Logan takes his hand. Once they’re clean, with the sheets and blankets replaced, it’s the deepest and most comfortable sleep of his life.

#poolverine #deadpool x wolverine #deadpool x wolverine fic #deadpool x wolverine smut #poolverine smut #deadclaws #logan howlett x wade wilson #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool fic #wolverine fic #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds

48 notes · View notes

lailawinchesterr · 11 hours

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ dean winchester liking someone tough…

gn!reader, masterlist

dean winchester meeting you and he just can’t get through to you. sammy accepts dean’s love easily and the gestures and his sweet words (if he ever gives them), you don’t accept a cup of coffee unless you pay him back and it gets on his nerves.

you hunt one time with them— total accident, and he just thinks, wow, most gorgeous person he’s ever see — and you’re asking sam if his brother has issues because he’s been staring & you don’t wanna bring it up.

sam kinda laughs, dean kinda wants to throw himself out on the highway. sam assures you his brother just likes you, you scoff and walk away— dean wishes he could burn his eyes out. being rejected is one thing, being treated like that? totally other thing he’s never dealt with and is not ready to deal with.

the rest of the case is fine and thankfully, you’re a research kind of hunter so you spend most of it with sam. he’d think with all that… whatever you’ve been doing, you’re more hands on. (whatever you’ve been doing being not flirting with him, what’s wrong with you?)

“sammy, she give you her number?” he asks when they get in the impala to head back to the bunker and his little asshole of a brother nods. nods like it’s so damn casual. it isn’t. you didn’t offer dean your number.

so he shrugs it off but he knows it’s not over. sam does too, unfortunately, but he can’t focus on his embarrassment for now. he heard you saying something about visiting a city when you’re done with the hunt so this man spends hours looking for cities that start with the letter ‘g’ that might be anywhere near the vicinity of pennsylvania. he finds a few, tosses a coin, does some research, and great, a couple of hearts went missing a few towns over from where you’re staying.

he rushes sam out of the bunker two weeks later and on the drive to god knows where with the werewolf problem, he stops at a motel.

“you— you need to stop? are you serious?”

“a man needs his rest, sam.”

“not you.” dean shrugs like he’s not shocking his brother to next week and they set up in a motel for the night. he finishes brushing his teeth before making a noise like he just had an idea.

“sammy, remember the hunter from the wendigo case?”

“…yeah it’s only been two weeks dean. you remember their name.”

“sure. whatever. we should call them, right? we’re close by.”

“how would you know—”

“i just do—”

“dean just call them yourself, man. i have their number in my cell.”

“no no, they gave it to you.”

“yeah, ‘cause you were in the car. just call them—”

“fine! god, you’re annoying.” and he slams the bathroom door so sam doesn’t see the sweat running down his face. he’s not scared— okay maybe a little intimidated, but you’re so… put together and you know what you want and if you didn’t give dean your number then surely you meant to do it, right?

when he’s out of the bathroom he uses sam’s phone to call you. it’s an honest accident. in his hurry to not back out, he forgot to switch phones. “hello.” your voice comes through when the call connects and he’s thinking of— “sam? you there?”

“h—hey. yeah, no, not sam.” he clears his throat and he hears you laugh and he thinks his heart melts.

“dean? hey, how are you?”

“great, ‘m good. just, we were, y’know, workin’ on a case nearby—”

“near where?”

“where you are, and i thought i’d call, ask if you wanna join us.”

“sure. but where’s that again?”

“geneva.”

“dean, i’m not anywhere near geneva.”

“what? but you said—”

“i said genesee.” he shuts his eyes aggressively, panicking, trying to think of what to say. “but it’s— i didn’t know you listened.”

“yeah apparently i didn’t do it well enough.”

“‘s fine, i can be there in a few days if y’all are still having trouble with it.” he perks up, sighing in relief.

“yeah, yeah, that sounds good, we’re on our way so it could take us a day or so.” and when you promise him you’ll call in a few days he can’t help but hang up with a smile on his face. and a middle finger thrown to the grinning sam in the corner.

he tells sam that he wants the day off when he wakes up and sam’s thisclose to calling everyone he knows to ask where the real dean is. but he already gets it. dean likes you, he doesn’t want to finish the hunt early in hopes that you’ll join them again and honestly sam looked at the facts and the werewolf is as much of a threat as a vacuum cleaner.

seeing as he’s frickin locked up in jail like any normal murderer. not that they know he’s not normal— the point is, sam saw that and gaped at dean like he was crazy. he drove them six hours (there still four more to go) for a werewolf that’s already locked up and if he hasn’t escaped yet then it’s because he’s stupid enough to stay locked. they don’t need to go kill him.

but dean insists and sam kind of doesn’t mind the vacation front he stuffy bunker. dean enjoys the day, eats, looks around, makes sure they’re not needed and they spend another night before heading out. when you meet up with them another day later sam notices dean’s shaved two days early and he combed his hair. his brother, dean winchester, combed his hair.

“hey,” dean greets you with a wave and you move in to hug sam first then him. deans surprised, not taking you for the type, but it seems he’s been very misinformed about you.

“so, what’s up? i didn’t actually get to read anything on my way here.”

“oh, it’s—” sam’s about to tell you it’s nothing, the guys locked up but dean cuts him off.

“we should get breakfast first, we’ll talk about it then?” you nod, ready to get back in your car when dean speaks up, “we could drive you. it’d be easier if we’re all in one car.”

when you decline his offer, saying you can’t go anywhere without your girl, he thinks he just fell in love. he’s blushing out of both embarrassment at the rejection and the adornment he knows is painting his face at hearing how much you care about your car.

at the diner you’re about to order before dean groans, slamming his hand on his thigh before tsk’ing and you frown, sitting across him. “they locked him up. the guys locked up, looks like he wasn’t much of a threat.”

sam barely holds his laugh in. that’s why he didn’t want him telling you? he’s lying his way to a date with you? sam can’t wait to see it go down.

“oh. that sucks, we came all the way here for nothing. i can take care of it, i know you guys have been on the road longer, lebanons a long way from here.”

dean shakes his head quickly. “nah, we’ll go, you just got here today.” you tilt your head in confusion.

“you’ve been here for more than a day? and you didn’t find out he’s been arrested?”

dean’s eyes narrow like he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. he’s about to ask for clarification before the waitress comes and he thanks the heavens above. strictly looks at his menu while speaking to her so she doesn’t get the wrong idea like he eh us usually do, and ignores sam the entire time he’s asking you about anything and everything.

halfway through you notice you’re mostly talking and ask sam some things, he happily replies through gritted teeth since dean is kicking him under the table.

after breakfast you thank them and you’re about to get back in your car, since there’s clearly no case here, before you turn around. “dean?”

he hums in response, and sam takes it as his cue to scream into the impala, you walk over to dean, both hands on his biceps, “how about next time you just ask me out? you didn’t need to drive all this way.”

dean blushing is the understatement of the century as you slap his chest twice and walk away. he memorized your plates.

idk what this is but yay! it’s done! hopefully it pulls me out of my block because i can’t write anything good for the life of me.

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #jensen ackles #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester imagine #jensen ackles x reader

47 notes · View notes

realityinsuspense · 2 days

Text

one step closer | chapter 3: a broken bowl

--summary: "me and him? in one apartment? yeah, right. nothing is going to happen." ~~ two strangers living together. not talking and just going about each other’s lives. that was your plan. that’s how you’ve always done things, and you’ve gone far doing so. so when you have to suddenly move into a new apartment with your new roommate, you expect almost nothing. almost.

--pairing: mingi x fem!reader

--genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, a little angst, #mingi is cold and standoffish, #eventual mutual pining

--a/n: hey all!! sorry for the slowest update in the world ahfdkafkdj but here is chapter 3! enjoy, and if u would like to be part of the tag list pls let me know :) i just started one hehe

words: 5.2k

chapter 3: a broken bowl

Life at the apartment continued on as usual. With the now split chores and clear communication between one another, you and Mingi settled back into that routine. And it was great! Peaceful—just how you liked it. And you’re sure Mingi liked too.

It was Wednesday evening. You were back at the apartment after another busy day of work and you were absolutely exhausted. You were also starving as well, so you headed to the kitchen to prepare an easy meal for dinner: instant ramen—the spicy kind. The thought immediately made you salivate. As you gathered two packs of Indomie from the pantry, you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket: an incoming call from Hongjoong.

It’s been a while since he’s last called you, and you missed him, mentally noting that you had to get lunch with him soon. It was an easy decision—you wanted to talk with your best friend. But before pressing the green answer button, you glanced at Mingi’s door from the kitchen. He’s home early today surprisingly. Knowing he’s behind that door and could possibly enter the kitchen at any moment, you quickly run to your room and grab your headphones; you wanted your conversation to only be heard by you of course.

You pressed the button, and you were greeted excitedly by your best friend.

“Did you get San’s invite to his birthday party?” Hongjoong asked immediately. You grabbed a big pot and filled it with water.

“Yes. Trust me, the amount of times I’ve heard about this party already,” You smile to yourself and adjusted your headphones.

“Ah, this guy…I am looking forward to his birthday nonetheless,” You could tell Hongjoong is also smiling on the other end. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen him too.”

Funnily enough, Hongjoong was also friends with San and Yeosang. He happened to attend the same University as the best friend duo, where they were all classmates for four years. It was only a coincidence that you all so happened to become friends. What a small world, you remind yourself.

“Oh you know San, he’s doing great! Yeosang too…And what about you? How’s your friend?” You teased. The last time you spoke with your best friend, he admitted he was slowly developing a crush on his long time neighbor. It excited you—romance gossip was always the best. You couldn’t help it, as a hopeless romantic yourself.

“Oh stop! Nothing much has been happening,” He laughed . “But I would say, we’ve been talking more and more.”

“What if you invite him to San’s?” You suggested. “I would love to meet him.”

“Ahh, yeah, but I think it’s maybe too soon for that,” Hongjoong said. “But I do want you to meet him one day. He’s great…”

“I can’t wait!” You exclaim. The water on the stove is boiling now, so you dump your noodles in and start separating the packets of seasoning.

“Well, what about you? How’s your life these days?” Hongjoong’s voice rings through your headphones as you carefully stir in the noodles.

“It’s been going good,” You chirp. “Nothing much going on either.”

“Hmmm…how is your roommate by the way? You haven’t told me much, except that he’s a mess.” He chuckles.

“Well that situation has been fixed, but honestly…” You ponder this. How is Mingi?

Ever since the chores incident, life at the apartment has been sailing smoothly again. In fact, you might even think the conversation even improved the atmosphere of the apartment. It felt a little bit more comfortable living there. Moving pasts the silence and nods, you guys now greet each other with a “hello” or “good night” here and there. The air feels less awkward and less tense. Both your schedules still work out, except you notice that recently, he’s been coming and staying home earlier than his previous hours…But you don’t think about it too much. You guys still manage to work it out! Again, you guys still keep to yourselves. Everything is still separate and unknown. Strangers, but not really strangers. Unraveled mysteries. Roommates. That’s what it feels like.

“He’s okay. We really don’t talk much though. We kinda just focus on our own things, you know?”

“Mmm…” You hear Hongjoong’s tone shift slightly. You could tell that it’s his turn to do the teasing now. “That sounds so boring!”

“Hey!” You chuckle. You turn the stove off to the perfectly cooked noodles. “It’s fine by me. I’m just here to live okay.”

Now, where is that strainer?

“Interesting,” Hongjoong says. “So… is he cute?”

“What?!” You exclaim a little too loudly after opening up the cupboard above you. You spot the large silver straining bowl, all the way on the top shelf stacked on top of your other large bowls. Did I really put these here? “What’s up with that? San asked the same thing.”

Hongjoong laughs in response. “Well, you are a single woman living alone with a man. That’s like a couple living together, no? And God knows how long you’ve been single for. I mean-wait, is he single too?”

“I don’t know about all that!” You quietly “yell” into your phone, your voice a low murmur. This is the last type of conversation to have especially since Mingi is just a room away. You glance at his bedroom door again, happily still shut.

For some reason, you feel your face flush. You felt a little embarrassed at the mention of your almost nonexistent love life once again, this time a bit more direct. And to have this thought about Mingi? Of all people! It was absurd. While you loved romance gossip, it wasn’t an exception when it came to you. Now you were finding yourself giving this little speech of justification once more. “Co-ed roommates exist you know? Besides, maybe he does have a girlfriend. But anyway, me and him? Nothing. Nothing is going to happen. And even if there was ‘something’—which there won’t—that would compromise our contract. I’m just here as his roommate to live in.”

You gently push yourself up onto the kitchen counter, your eyes locked on the stack of bowls.

“Relax, I’m just joking,” Hongjoong defends, but you could hear him grinning like crazy. “But, I don’t know…shouldn’t roommates at least bond?”

“Bond over what?” You were leaning over the cupboard, with your arm almost reaching the bowl. If you knew any better, you probably would’ve gotten a chair to help you instead. But you were too distracted, and for some reason, willingly determined, as if you knew that it was entirely possible for you to reach such height. Your fingers just barely brushed over the cool bowl holding the strainer. What you should know, was that willingness did not always equal logic.

And your desperation for reaching for the bowl at the top shelf backfired. Your fingers tried to grab hold of the bowls, but the weight made you feel unsteady, slipping out of your grasp.

CRASH

“Fuck!” You ducked just in time. But the stack of bowls toppled over and shattered on the floor, a big pile of broken ceramic pieces scattered everywhere. And of course, the strainer lying on the floor as well, perfectly unharmed.

“What happened?!” Hongjoong’s voice rang through your headphones. You carefully landed both your feet on the floor, worried of stepping on any broken glass despite the house slippers.

“Oh shit,” Your eyes went wide after scanning the broken pieces—intricate designs of blue were shown throughout. “Ugh…this isn’t good. Hongjoong, I’ll call you later, okay?” He obliged, and you promised to update him. You stood in shock at the mess in front of you.

These bowls weren’t yours.

They were Mingi’s.

And you broke them.

A million thoughts were bursting and running through your mind. Why did I think these were mine*? Why was I so distracted? I should’ve known better. Maybe I’m just really exhausted? Ugh. No excuses. Oh he’s gonna kill me. These looked really expensive. What do I say to him?*

Hurriedly, you begin to sweep the damage that had been done. But barely just starting to clean up, you hear the sound of his bedroom door opening. Fuck. At that moment, you so badly wished his life schedule didn’t change all of a sudden and that he wasn’t home. But there’s no point in hiding. He was going to find out eventually; it’s time to face it.

Your heart rate picks up as you hear the shuffle of footsteps get closer to the kitchen; you painfully continue sweeping the broken mess.

“What was-” Mingi begins as he enters the kitchen. His relaxed face turns tense at the sight of the scene before him, looking down at the broken bowls. “What the hell happened?”

You jolt up and duck your head down in apology. You suddenly feel his eyes glaring into you.

“I’m so sorry, it was an accident! I-I thought that the bowls were mine and I stupidly tried reaching for them and then I..dropped them.” Your words felt pathetic, your body feeling hot with embarrassment. You gingerly lifted your head to make eye contact with him.

You were scared out of your mind for some reason, that same intimidating feeling returning.

Silence. You scan his face for something. But his expression remains tense and indifferent, his dark hair falling just above his dark eyes. It’s hard to know what he’s thinking. But there’s no doubt in your mind—he has to be pissed.

“I can buy you a new set, I-” You blurt out at an attempt to break the painful silence.

“Don’t bother,” He says coldly, his tone full of anger and disappointment. “This further proves my point. I know we live together, but we really can’t bother with each other. Otherwise shit like this happens. The chores was already enough, and now you’re breaking my stuff.”

The words slap you in the face, and you can’t help but feel silenced. It was an accident! You wanted to yell, but you couldn’t find the courage to. You would never break those things on purpose. He must be upset; they must’ve been important to him. But even so…

Even if he was speaking the truth, it still felt mean.

It still hurt.

Mingi picks up some remaining scattered pieces where he stands and throws them in the trash bin. You continue to clean up as well; it feels like you’re holding your breath the entire time until both of you finish cleaning the mess. You were ashamed.

After you hear his bedroom door shut, you let out a heavy sigh, feeling a mix of disappointment and anxiety. Your noodles have gone cold.

—

That entire night, you were fueled with guilt. It makes sense to be upset about broken dishware, but it’s not like you were completely ignoring the problem. Nor were you were trying to break them on purpose. You took responsibility, apologized, and offered to purchase a replacement. Yet, Mingi refused. You began to feel worse after realizing how well you two were finally cooperating, and that living together became easier and more comfortable. He even made stronger efforts in keeping the apartment clean.

The next morning before you left for work, because you couldn’t go on without action, you slipped a small envelope of money underneath his door. It was for the bowls.

Mingi’s being upset with you bothered you to the core.

Well rightfully so, you did just destroy a very nice ceramic set of dish ware. And it didn’t look cheap, so it must’ve costed a fortune. Maybe that’s why he seemed to mad.

It only makes sense to replace it then. Besides, it would be rude of you not to. It was a gesture in your nature and out of courtesy. It was something you could do to fix the problem. But you were unclear of what Mingi wanted. What could he possibly want? What could I possibly do to fix this?

And as you were on your way to work, you felt your phone vibrate. While you were expecting a text from Hongjoong (who you updated on the situation afterwards by the way), you were surprised to find a new message from your roommate. What great timing, you thought to yourself.

song mingi (roommate): don’t need the money.

Well that was fast. But the text made your stomach churn. Seriously, this guy is so blunt. You chose to ignore the message, guilt creeping into you once again. Your thoughts followed you to work, clouding your upcoming busy day.

“That’s weird,” Yeosang scrunches his eyebrows together. “Who gets that upset over a set of bowls?”

Once again, you confided in your work friends. It was lunch time at your guys’ usual table, and you were stirring the spoon in your bowl of soup mindlessly. You were relieved it was finally lunch time, because the whole incident and text message was bothering you all morning.

“Agreed, that was totally unnecessary,” San says, eyes glued to his phone.

“Just forget about it y/n. It was clearly an accident! You’re too nice for your own good.” Yeosang presses.

“Yeah y/n, don’t stress about it too much.” San added.

“But I can’t!” You groan and throw your head into your hands. Yeosang sighs seemingly in defeat and takes a bite of his burger. “I feel guilty out of my mind.”

Just when things were starting to feel okay. Just when Mingi showed some kind decency towards you, it had to go south immediately. Things were just starting to feel comfortable and at ease. You two were finally cooperating as roommates, greeting one another, and being accommodating to one another. It was a peaceful coexistence that has once again been jeopardized—this time by you. Who would’ve thought living would become even more difficult.

“Well, if you feel that bad. I think you should just get him the new set.” San says, finally looking up from his phone, his expression bright and gentle as always.

“Should I really?” You ask weakly. It was just the push you needed.

“You really don’t have to y/n…” Yeosang smiles his comforting little smile. “But we know you, and you probably will anyway.”

My friends know me well.

—

You head back home after stopping by the market after work. Luckily, it was still open, and you picked out a similar looking set—a porcelain white set, except with tiny green floral detailing this time. It was cute, but not as beautiful as the original. The reminder made your stomach sink.

You’re sure this wasn’t as expensive as the original either, despite the sales lady claiming its value. But, you hope that it’s the thought that counts—this was your apology gift. Whether he’ll accept it or not. You only feel right doing this. And it was your fault, so you wanted to take responsibility.

Despite your fears to face Mingi once again, you knew you had to muster up the courage to properly apologize to him. Otherwise, you both couldn’t go on living this way—all tense all over again. Disrupted peace. Awkwardness, discomfort. A step backwards.

You wanted to resolve this as smoothly and quickly as possible. And enough with the overthinking!

We’re roommates for crying out loud, you thought, trying to hype yourself up as you head up your apartment building. Again, you feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. Be more confident, y/n. You’re gonna apologize properly, and then he’s going to take this damn set of bowls whether he likes it or not! You’ve been agonizing in guilt for the past few days, so he better accept this apology!

We WILL be peaceful roommates again!

After opening the apartment door, you hear sounds in the kitchen and make your way there immediately. He’s home.

“Mingi!” You bravely announce, entering the kitchen. You felt a little stupid, but you couldn’t stand the tension. “I-”

But before you could even continue, your eyes land on your roommate leaning against the kitchen counter, and you suddenly feel your face grow hot.

Shirtless?!

Mingi looks up at you with a questioning look, his pink lips pouted. “Hm?”

Standing before you, was an even more revealing Mingi. Only wearing his signature pair of sweatpants, his lean and toned physique stood out—defined abs and muscles, and.. you tried not to stare for too long, but it’s so hard not to take in. The sight was…something else.

You feel embarrassed seeing him like this, but he clearly didn’t. You could barely make out your words, the courage and hype you built up all of sudden gone.

“I- uh,” You awkwardly say. “I bought you this for you.” You place the shopping bag on the dining table. Mingi approaches slowly, and you feel your heart beating faster as he walks closer to you. He peers into the bag and sighs.

“I told you, I don’t need-” He starts. ”I’m sorry!” You interject abruptly, finally making eye contact with him. “I’m sorry! I messed up. I broke the dishes. I broke our deal. As your roommate, it only makes sense for me to do this. I’ve been feeling horribly guilty, and I am really truly sorry.”

Mingi remains silent as he glares at you, his eyes unreadable. His dark eyes scan your face, and you hope to god your face doesn’t look as red as it feels. It would be even more embarrassing.

“I-I know it won’t replace the old one, and I know ceramics can be kind of expensive,” You continue on after he says nothing, spilling your jumbled words incessantly. “Especially the ones you had, which I’m sure were so beautiful by the way. So it must’ve been frustrating. I know it’s a hassle to get new pieces like those. And…and this new set isn’t the same, but it still has some little details on it! They’re green though—but still, very pretty! The lady at the market agreed with me. So maybe it can-”

“y/n,” He says sighing, stopping you. “It’s fine.”

“No! It’s not fine,” You grab the shopping bag from the table and try to shove it into his hands, taking a step closer to him. You look up at him now, his eyes wide—probably shocked by your sudden actions. Gosh, you think, unbelievably close to a shirtless man like this. “From now on, this won’t happen again. It was just a stupid mistake, I swear. So please, just take this as my apology.” You bow your head in shame and at an attempt to stop looking at him.

After a beat of silence, you feel him gently take the bag from your hands.

“My mom made them for me,” Mingi says quietly. “Those bowls.”

You slowly look up at him once more, suddenly taken aback by the comment. And most importantly his tone—a tinge of sentiment.

“You’re right. These won’t replace the old ones,” He says before you could even respond. “But they’ll do for now. I accept your apology, thanks..”

Mingi places the bag on the dining table once again, and returns to the kitchen counter to continue preparing whatever he was making.

“O-okay, yes,” You manage to say finally. “Thank you, good night.” ”Night.” He says without looking up.

A wave of relief washes over you, and you silently head to your bedroom. You were glad that he’s forgiven you, but also feel bad to know that you destroyed his mother’s gift to him. Now that you know that fact, it felt strange. Isn’t that even worse? At the same time though, Mingi didn’t seem too angry or upset like he was previously. And talking to him this time felt a little different.

Maybe your apology was so great, he felt compelled to do so. Anyhow, you were sure that things would get back to normal again. But your mind lingered about what he said. His mom?

We don’t usually bring up things like that, yet tonight…

You shook your head, deciding not to read too much into it. As they say, curiosity killed the cat.

In your room, you glance at yourself in the mirror.

Your cheeks were bright red.

Great.

next chapter >

< previous chapter

main menu

tags: @hwaskookies @chicksmoothie

39 notes · View notes

veritasangel · 13 hours

Text

Jealous hearts

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov ୨୧˚ warnings: none {wc: 744}

↣ i don't know why this popped in my head, but it did

Dabi and you entered your apartment, full from dinner at the Todoroki's and the warmth of the evening still lingering in the air. The dinner had been full of laughter and stories with lots of playful banter between you and his family.

You valued the moments spent with them, especially being on good terms with Shoto, your best friend, even after you started dating Dabi.

Dabi followed you in, making sure to loudly shut the door behind himself and you knew something was off right away. He stood there, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, a frown deep on his face.

“Did you enjoy tonight?" you asked, trying to sound light, as you hung up your coat.

“Yeah, sure," Dabi said, his voice perfectly flat. He didn't move from the door and there was an irritated scowl on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, knowing a storm was brewing underneath. "You don't sound very convinced. “What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he snapped, the irritation in his voice conveying volumes. You took another step closer, wanting him to open up.

"C'mon, Dabi; I can tell when something's bothering you. Is it about dinner?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. "It's just annoying how you and Shoto are so… cosy with each other," he finally admitted, his jaw tightening. "You two were practically glued at the hip tonight."

Your heart sank a little. You'd been expecting this talk honestly. "We're just friends, Dabi. You know that."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't look that way when you're laughing at all his stupid jokes," he snapped, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Dabi, we were only messing around- You know he's my best friend," you managed to keep your voice level. "You seriously can't expect me to drop him now that you and I are together."

He shrugged, though the scowl stayed on his face. "It just feels like when he's around, I'll always be second place, backup brother or something.

"No, don't say that! You're not second place to anyone, you're my boyfriend and I care about you," you persisted, taking a step closer toward him.

He turned away, clearly fighting not to let loose and say something he doesn’t meanl. "It just bothers me, alright?" he huffed. "I don't know, it just does. I know you’ve been friends since you were kids, but I can't help it."

You reached out and gently laid a hand on his arm. "Dabi, you’re everything I want. Shoto is my friend, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want to be with you."

He finally met your gaze. "I know, but it just feels like you two have this effortless connection. It's easy for you two. It's not the same with me."

You felt a pang of sympathy for him. "You're right-it's not the same. You and I have something different, something deeper and stronger. I'm with you because I want to be, not because it's easy or convenient."

Dabi let out a sigh, his face caught between frustration and vulnerability. "I don't want to be the jealous boyfriend," he confessed softly. "It just feels... weird.”

You leaned in closer, wrapping your arms around him as you rested your head against him. "It's okay to feel that sometimes. Just talk to me about it instead of bottling it up. I'm here, Dabi. I'm always here.".

He faltered, before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. "I'm sorry I'm grumpy. I just- I want to make sure you're happy, and it feels like Shoto's always there doing that for you."

"You make me happy, Dabi," you said, looking up into his eyes. "I love spending time with you, and being with you- and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

Your words caused the tension in his shoulders to dissipate. "I know I can be annoying about this stuff. It's just hard to shake."

You smiled softly, brushing a thumb over his cheek. "You're the one I'm with, remember?” you promised, leaning up to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

He pulled you in closer, and everything seemed right again. He was still a little jealous, but as long as you two communicated, he knew he could get through it.

"Now, how about we pick a movie to watch? Just us," you said, hopeful to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, sure, but if you pick a damn rom-com, then I’m gonna complain some more tonight.” Dabi said jokingly; the teasing smirk already back.

༄ m.list

38 notes · View notes

morganski-19 · 19 hours

Text

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 37

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 34, part 35, part 36

The house is quiet when Dustin wakes up. Which isn’t unusual here. With how big the house is, and how little people lived in it, it was always somewhat quiet. But there were more people here than normal, so he was expecting it to be louder.

They must all still be asleep.

He wanders out of the guest bedroom that he claimed for when he stayed over. Down the hall to the guest bathroom. Hearing the gentle snores from Steve’s bedroom. Letting Dustin know that he’s still there.

Wayne bumps into him when Dustin leaves the bathroom. Softly apologizing before shutting the door. The shower starting to run.

Dustin goes to the kitchen. Thinking he could eat some of the cereal that he likes but his mom doesn’t buy that much. A box of it always in Steve’s pantry.

The kitchen’s not empty when Dustin walks in. Nancy sitting at the island, drinking coffee while reading a book.

“I didn’t know you were still here,” he says. Digging through the pantry to find the cereal.

“Me and Robin stayed over last night.”

Dustin’s used to Nancy being a part of his life. He was his best friend’s sister, after all. But that was like a completely different section. Tied to certain places in his life. This was the different sect of his life. Steve and Robin, until spring break, were one half. The party was the other. Now they seem to be coming together a lot more.

Not that he’s complaining. He likes it when the people he loves get along. Act as one big group instead of tiny separate ones. It takes some getting used to.

Robin comes down the stairs when the cereal in Dustin’s bowl gets soggy. Immediately beelining for the coffee pot and pours herself a cup. Making it to her liking. Not saying anything until half of it’s drained.

“The fact that you look that good this early in the morning should be a crime,” she says toward Nancy’s direction.

Nancy who was completely dressed, hair pulled back with some clips. Carefully composed like she always is. While Robin stands in what Dustin’s sure is one of Steve’s old t-shirts and a pair of shorts with the drawstring taken out. Hair tangled and puffy.

“Not my fault you are the worst morning person.”

The minute those words are said, Wayne comes down the stairs, gets himself a cup of coffee, and immediately walks back out again. Nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I can’t be worse than that,” Robin jokes.

Robin sets her coffee down, going to root around in the pantry before emerging with a pack of strawberry pop-tarts.

“You are not.” Nancy finishes her coffee. Going over to the sink to wash out the mug. “Is Steve still asleep, he’s normally up by now.”

“He was when I left,” Robin mutters over a mouthful of a pop-tart. Too impatient to wait for them both to be toasted. One in the toaster while she eats the other one dry.

Dustin’s stopped questioning why Robin and Steve share a bed sometimes a long time ago. They have some weird friendship that he will never understand.

“I saw him take some migraine pills last night,” she continues. “I think another big one is coming.”

Nancy sighs. “It has been like a month since the last one.”

“Yeah, I just thought it would start getting better again. Like last time.”

“Well last time he wasn’t strangled twice and had to get a blood transfusion.”

Dustin doesn’t always know what’s going on with Steve’s health. Always kept in the dark for longer than he should. Definitely longer than he wants to be. It was something, if he had the direct control over, he would learn about immediately. So he could track it. Know when to chill down and ask someone else for a ride.

But instead, he’s none the wiser about Steve’s migraines. Always missing “the big one” that apparently happens every month. Because no one ever tells him about it until Steve is MIA for a few days. Called off work to sit in his bedroom, alone. No one but Robin coming over to make sure that he doesn’t die.

Which sure, that one makes sense, he guesses. Who else, other than Robin, would do that? Or who would Steve feel comfortable with doing that?

It would just make Dustin feel better if he knew about them. So he wasn’t so out of loop. He wasn’t some dumb kid anymore who saw Steve as this badass figure higher than everyone else. He knew that there were debilitating cracks under the surface. Knows that sometimes, Steve can’t be the one to fight.

And that was ok. Someone else could take the load for a while. Watch over everyone. It didn’t need to just be Steve’s job. It could be someone else’s job for a while.

A door creaks open down the hall. Thuds of crutches echoing through. Before a second door opens and shuts.

Eddie was awake. Out of the hospital. Here. It still didn’t feel real.

Dustin finally gets up to pour the tinted milk down the drain and wash out his bowl. Adding it to the dish rack, but not leaving the kitchen. Waiting to see Eddie. Proof that he’s really here.

A few minutes later, Eddie comes down the hall. Wincing slightly with every step. “Morning,” he says with a grunt. Sliding onto one of the barstools.

“Morning,” Nancy replies. “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee,” Eddie says almost immediately. “And probably some water, so I can take my meds. Has Wayne been down yet, I’m pretty sure he still has all of them.”

Nancy sets a cup of coffee in front of Eddie. With a small container of sugar and the creamer.

“I can go ask him,” Dustin suggests. Happy to help. Already moving out of the kitchen before anyone can stop him.

Lucky for him, Wayne isn’t hard to find. Halfway down the stairs in different clothes. “You need something?”

“Yeah, Eddie was looking for his meds.”

Wayne nods, turning around and heading back up the stairs. He comes back down with a few brown paper bags, each one with a different slip of paper stapled to the outside. They walk back to the kitchen.

“You need to eat something before you take these,” Wayne cuts to the chase. “Coffee won’t cut it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. Hands shaking slightly as lifts the mug to his lips. “What do you have?” he asks in the direction of Nancy and Robin.

“Pop-tarts, cereal, I think some bagels, if not that then toast, fancy jams,” Robin rattles off, the list getting longer.

“Some toast is fine.”

Robin nods. Grabbing some bread from the bag on the counter and popping it in the toaster.

Steve finally makes his way downstairs. Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. He looks miserable. He bypasses the group of people in his kitchen, heading straight to the cabinet for a glass. Filling it with water and pulling a pill bottle from his pocket.

Robin gets close to him. Bumping her shoulder against his. Steve shakes his head, slowly. She nods and goes to close the kitchen blinds.

Eddie stares at Steve like he isn’t allowed to look. A mix of concern and confusion in his expression. Only interrupted when Nancy slides the plate of toast to him, asking if he wanted anything on it.

“Robin said there were fancy jams?”

Something reminiscent of a scoff comes from Steve. “They’re not that fancy,” he slurs.

Robin snorts. “It’s not generic. Therefore fancy.”

Nancy pulls out a raspberry jam from the fridge. “My family uses the same kind. It’s not fancy.”

Everyone keeps looking over at Steve. Waiting for him to move. He just stands there, white knuckling the countertop. Robin tries to touch his arm, but he shrugs it off.

“Give it a second,” he mutters under his breath.

She nods again. Pulling more bread out of the bag and sticking it in the toaster. The setting lighter than he normally likes it.

The only sound that happens in the next few minutes is the slight crunch of Eddie eating, and the pop of the toaster. Robin gets some butter out of the fridge and puts some on each slice. Careful not to rip through the pieces.

With a deep exhale, Steve turns around. Leaning against the counter behind him and grabbing the plate she hands him. Ripping apart the toast into small bites.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie looks surprised that he asked him anything. “Good. Much better than a hospital bed. Bigger too, that was nice.”

“Sorry I didn’t have anything better for breakfast. I was planning on making something, but-.” He trails off. The obvious staying unsaid.

“That’s fine. I don’t eat much in the morning’s anyway.”

Steve nods. Placing his plate on the counter. About a half a slice of the toast left. “I won’t be around that much to help you get settled in. I was supposed to close tonight, but I’ll probably end up calling out.”

“If you’re about to apologize for that, don’t.” Eddie stares at Steve with an expression that Dustin can’t quite read. “You don’t have to apologize for things that aren’t your fault.”

Steve pauses. Taking a second to stop himself, reset what he was going to say. “If you need anything, Rob should know where it is. And if not, I’ll just be in my room.”

All Eddie does is reply with a small nod. Then Steve is walking out of the kitchen with Robin in tow.

(i forgot to post yesterday because i got fixated on a new knitting project, no joke i worked on it for like six hours straight)

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #dustin henderson #dustin pov #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #pre steddie #everyone lives/nobody dies

53 notes · View notes

hey-august · 2 days

Note

Cus saying something about rollercoasters gave me an idea.

What do you think buggy is like if he wants to take his partner to like a fair or theme park or something of the sort. Cus, obv he would. But they're way too afraid to get on most of the rides?

He may tease, sure. That's got to be a given, no? But seeing the terrified look your face after he'd somehow coaxed you into let's say the Ferris wheel? He's holding your hand, telling you it's okay. Describing the pretty lights and stunning view as you slowly get to the top. And while it's stopped all the way up high, you actually look out. Able to relax a bit. It's not so bad. It's pretty, actually. But heights are still terrifying.

Or maybe it's a rollercoaster he had to coax you onto. "Just try it once!"

And maybe he'd regret it just a little. The constant scream right next to him. Absolute death grip on his hand.

Getting on and starting to go up was one thing. The second it sped up just a hair to get to the top is when the screaming started, the tight hold on his hand. Then the screaming got louder as it sped downwards and your hand kept one hell of a death grip on his hand. The only time the screams stopped was so you could take a breath to continue screaming. Once the ride was over though he led you to a nearby bench until you could relax.

Or maybe those teacup rides. Only scared to get on it because.. Well it's buggy. And most people you've been on that type of ride would spin it way too fast and scare the ever loving hell out of you. But he's already dragged you on enough rides and this was one you liked. So he did spin it, but made sure you were okay with the speed. Laughing and spinning it together, enjoying the more peaceful ride.

Though you two did get on it again just to go as fast as possible. Laughing and clinging onto the seat.

I feel like he'd also want to win you a prize. *Of course* it had to be one that was so fucking stupidly hard to get. But he wanted to see you smile, he always did. So he tried. And tried again. And again. And..one more time. *damnit* why was it so difficult? But the second the person who was in charge if the game became distracted with something, even for a mere second, he cheated. Hey, he wanted to get you that prize. And it so happens he can detach limbs. His hand reattaching before anyone can see of course.

Is some of this based on personal experience? Yes. I can't stand rollercoasters, they scare the shit out of me.

My personal story with my first rollercoaster was at Kentucky kingdom. Lightning run. My mother fucking counted. (Yk the count to 3) Just to get my ass on a rollercoaster. I was terrified okay? But, yes, the death grip and screaming was what I did. That was her karma. My loud ass screaming in her ear (I was on her left) and one hell of a death grip. She might have lost a little blood flow for the time being. But she never dragged me on a rollercoaster again. And she never will be able to again.

(I have written more than intended but ideas keep coming)

Heck yes! Buggy would be a MENACE with this. Taunting and goading you into going on the thrilling rides.

PUH-LEASE, only weenies skip the big rides. What's the point in going if you're not gonna ride Mr. Bones' Wild Ride? (okay, maybe skip that one)

Buggy also talks up how the rides aren't even that scary. You eventually give in because:

maybe he's right,

you don't want to miss out on a good ride,

he seems so excited, and

he's getting annoying.

Yeah, the ferris wheel wasn't terrible. A little more shaky that you expected and very high up. But you got to sit next to Buggy. He even bought (stole) you a corndog to enjoy. He ate most of it.

The roller coaster though. Buggy thought he won (what exactly? who knows) when you agreed to go, but a little worm of regret started wiggling when the car reached the apex. Buggy said it was like climbing the ship's rigging on rough waters, but this...did not feel the same. Or maybe it did and he forgot how intense that feels. Both of you had white knuckle grips on the safety bar the whole time.

The tea cup ride was fine. Better. Really nice, actually. Even when it spun wildly, you still enjoyed it. It was less of a competition and more of a cooperative sport to spin the tea cup juuuuust right. Buggy also showed off by using his hands to spin the cup while he leaned back, handless-arms behind his head.

And BIG AGREE to Buggy stealing prizes. He also cheats. A barely-noticeable fingertip knocking over bottles, nudging balls, guiding hoops. He's schmoozing with the game attendees, distracting them from all the other shady shit he's doing. Meanwhile, you stand slightly off to the side and grab whatever Buggy hands you.

Do you need a giant plush sleepy banana? Or five bunny keychains? Or more than three lanyards? Or a frog bucket hat that doesn't fit? Or a bear bucket hat that doesn't fit? Or a cat bucket hat that doesn't fit?

No. But you take them anyways.

---

I'm also right there with ya with some un-fun ride stories, cyra. 😂 Once when I was a younger kid, I CRIED on the queue for Space Mountain. SOBBING. I was scared but we were going to go on the ride. And then the HORROR - I was supposed to sit at the front. Absolutely not. Thankfully, some older teens took pity and sat in the front.

I got on the ride, continued to cry, and shrunk myself so low that my head knocked on the sides of the ride during sharp turns. It was not ideal.

On a lighter note, there was a time where I was on one of those spinning Gravitron rides. The UFO shaped one. And the ride operator would slow down the spinning and then start it right back up. They said we were almost done more than once but everything kept spinningggg. We were hostages in the UFO and it felt like forever. Honestly, I loved it but omg I felt like I was outside of my body afterwards. I was not the same person.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #hey-august buggy headcanons #hey-august replies #get to know hey-august

24 notes · View notes

mywritersmind · 3 hours

Text

DRUNK THOUGHTS - LN4

summary : He’s drunk and on a dock, nothing can go wrong. Except maybe him confessing his love to his taken best friend.

listen up : drunk lando! reader has a bf but no cheating involved!! maybe a pt.2 but prob not? i’ve kinda been unmotivated but if u have ideas my requests are open!

word count : 653

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I find him on a dock, his arm touching the water and his body laying down to face the stars.

I wobble down the wooden path, taking my heels off and pulling my dress down a bit. I’ve been drinking and dancing all night, yet my experience doesn’t even come close to Lando’s night.

He turns his head when he hears my footsteps, “Wanted to make sure you were still alive.” I look at his body, he’s in baby blue pants and a half undone shirt.

I left my boyfriend who was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes to come check on him, feeling a bit tipsy and more than happy to be alone with him.

“Y/n!” He grins and points at me, yup he’s definitely drank more than me, “Hi!”

I laugh and squat next to him, “Hi Lan. Fun night?”

“Oh definitely!” he giggles, his hand patting the place next to him. I sigh and lay down, looking up at the night sky. “You?”

“Very fun.” He’s looking at me still, I glance to him, a curl fallen into his face and his eyes are all soft and shaded from the lack of light.

It’s almost unfair, how beautiful he is.

“I like your dress!” He smiles, his hand gently running against the hem of it. It’s small and black and his touch makes goosebumps run through me.

“I like your necklace.” I reach over and run my fingers over his logo, “Very nice.”

“Would be nicer on you.” Lando’s always like this. Drunk or not, he’s a flirt.

“Ya think?”

“I know.” He looks back up like it’s nothing, “Would be even nicer if it was the only thing you were wearing.” the words come out so quick and easy that I almost think I hallucinated them. Lando’s flirty, sure, but my boyfriend is almost always around so he doesn’t mess around too much.

Apparently drunk him does.

I practically choke, “Oh?”

His head turns to me again, his eyes roaming my features, “You're so pretty.” He says softly, “Like really reallyyyy gorgeously you.”

“I- thank you?”

“Everyone thinks it. All the guys who stare at you but they don’t get it. Not even your lover boy.” He shakes his head matter of factly, “No no no. I do. I hate those guys.”

“What guys?” I laugh.

“You do not have very good vision.” He smacks his lips together, “Everyone looks.”

I laugh, honestly thinking he’s joking, “They’re always looking at you- the famous one.”

He shakes his head again, adamant I'm wrong, “No no pretty. They don’t give a nothing about me.”

“I think you do pretty well.” I raise a brow, “You were basically followed by a group of girls down here.” I’m not sure where they went but they were fawning over Lando.

He shrugs, “Bachelorette party. It’s basically my job.” I laugh and he looks offended that I did, “I wish you followed me.”

Suddenly his words aren’t funny anymore.

“But your bloody boy…” He makes a disgusted face, I thought he didn’t mind him. “Bleh. You’re better.”

“I didn’t know you disliked him.”

“Why would I like the bloke who’s in love with the girl I'm in love with?” His casual tone strikes again, this time stabbing me through the heart. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. I thought my own feelings had gone long before this trip- before my boyfriend!

I can’t fancy Lando and he cannot be in love with me.

“You’re so drunk.” I laugh it off but he just stares at me. He doesn’t seem to know that he just said he loves me.

“Drunk words are-”

“Sober thoughts.” I finish for him, His body shifting to lay on his stomach, an arm across my waist. “Yeah I know.”

“You always understand me.” He whispers and it breaks me in two. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get you back, Lan.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #f1 imagine #lando x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando imagine #f1 fic

27 notes · View notes

canirove · 2 days

Text

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 32

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Monday)

Masterlist

“And if you run out of nappies, there is a box in the storage room. And he has to have Mr. Poo with him when he is sleeping, even during naps. And if he can't sleep he usually calms down if you sing to him “Freed from desire” because Declan sings him football songs and for whatever the reason that calms him down. And if he…”

“Liv… Liv, Olivia” Declan's mum says, stopping my rambling. “I know what to do. I've raised three boys and a few grandchildren, remember?” she chuckles.

“Yes, sorry. I'm sorry. I just… you know.”

“It's the first time you are gonna be away from Oliver since he was born.”

“Yes” I sigh.

It's been three months since I gave birth. Three of the most exhausting, daunting but also wonderful months of my life, full of sleepless nights and tears, but also many laughs, cute moments, and my phone saying I'm running out of memory due to all the videos and photos I've taken of Ollie. I've even had to make different folders so everything is a bit organized.

There are a couple just for photos and videos of him, one for all the content with my mum, with Declan's parents, with his nephews, with Madders and Kennedy, with their kids, with Olga… And of course, there is one only for Declan. After the ones all for Ollie, his has to be the one that has the most content.

But I just can't help myself. Seeing him being a dad is… I don't know how to explain it. It's like it makes me fall in love with him even more than I already am, sometimes making me feel like my heart is about to burst from all the love it has for him and Ollie. Other times tho, it makes me think of what I overheard him and his mum talk about. About the fact that he told her that he was in love with me.

More than once I've wanted to ask him about it, if what I heard was true or if it was my mind playing games with me because I was about to bring a human being to the world and everything inside me was a chaos. But I've never managed to do it, I've always gotten cold feet. Though that may be about to change.

He has booked us a couple of days away at the same place where we stayed for our babymoon with the excuse that I deserve to relax, have a good night of sleep, and just think about myself for a bit (easier said than done). And since that was the place where we were supposed to talk about our feelings and what the kisses we shared meant, this may be the right moment to do it. To stop being a coward and tell him what I feel, to say the three words.

“Ok, our bags are in the car. Are you ready?” Declan asks, joining me and his mum.

“She's ready” she says.

“Can't I check on Ollie again? Just to be sure he is…”

“Liv, the little man is asleep, he's ok. And you already said goodbye to him like five times” Declan chuckles.

“Six. She went back to this room while you were away.”

“Really?”

“I'm sorry, I just… I can't help it” I shrug.

“He's gonna be fine, Liv. I have everything under control, and tomorrow your mum is coming over too. He's gonna get all the attention and cuddles in the world” she smiles.

“Can I give him a last one?”

“Declan, take her out of here, please” his mum laughs, pushing me towards him. “I don't want to hear from any of you in two days, understood?”

“I'll try my best to keep us, and especially her, entertained” he smirks, putting an arm around my waist and making my stomach do a flip inside me.

“Yeah, well, umm… Can't I see him one last time, then?”

“No” Declan's mum says, definitely using the same tone she has had to use plenty of times with her sons. “And now go or you'll be stuck in traffic for hours” she says, moving her hands in the air and basically kicking us out of the house.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Have I ever told you that this is the best chocolate cake ever?”

“Every single time you've eaten it since that first time” Declan laughs.

“It feels like it happened in another lifetime” I sigh.

“It does, doesn't it?” he says, finally managing to open the champagne bottle he had on his hands. It is our last night away, and to celebrate, he ordered some of that chocolate cake I love so much and some champagne. “If we went back in time and told that Liv and that Declan that two years later they are parents to the most amazing little boy, they would not believe us.”

“Nope” I chuckle. “And thank you” I say when he gives me a flute with some champagne.

“You're welcome” he smiles. “So, what should we toast to?”

“I don't know… Maybe to that amazing little boy you just mentioned?”

“You have not stop thinking about him, have you?” Declan laughs.

“Have you?”

“I have not, no” he smiles. “And how could I when I have you reminding me of him all the time? Each day he looks more like you, Liv.”

“But with your eyes.” Because my wish had come true, and he had gotten his eyes. Those blue eyes I have not been able to stop thinking about since the first time they looked at me, eyes that make me feel things no one had been able to before.��

“To Ollie?” he says, raising his flute.

“To Ollie” I reply, doing the same.

“And, since we are toasting and celebrating… I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Yep” he says, giving me a small box.

“Declan, I… You didn't have to get me anything. You've done enough already with this trip and everything else since I moved in with you.”

“What I've done is the bare minimum, Liv. And this is just a little something. Open it.”

“Ok” I say, my hands shaking a bit. Why am I nervous? “Oh…”

“Do you like it? I've seen you wearing both rings and necklaces and I didn't know what you liked best, so I just picked one of each.”

“I love it, Declan” I say, trying really hard to not start crying. He had gotten me a ring with Oliver engraved on it and a matching necklace with an O and a little stone hanging next to it. “Is this a real ruby?”

“It is. That's Ollie's birthstone, isn't it?”

“Yes, but… wow. I… I don't know what to say.”

“Just knowing that you love it is enough” he smiles.

“Thank you, Declan” I say, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him.

“You're welcome, Liv” he replies, hugging me back. We stay like that for a while, just hugging and not saying a word, until a bird makes us both jump.

“What the fuck was that? A dinosaur?”

“I don't know” I laugh. “But it was loud.”

“So loud…” he chuckles. “Anyway, do you want me to help you put on the necklace?”

“Please” I say, giving it to him while putting on the ring. It fits perfectly. “How did you think of this?” I ask him to try and focus on something that isn't the way his fingers feel on my skin.

“Aaron told me that he had bought Georgina a pushing ring, and I thought I could do the same.”

“A what?”

“It apparently is a thing people do to congratulate their partners after giving birth” he shrugs.

“I had never heard of it before.”

“Neither had I. And done. How does it feel?”

“Perfect” I say, turning around to face him. “Thank you, Declan. Again.”

“That's ok” he smiles. And once again, I find myself focusing on his mouth. On his lips. On how much I want to kiss him and… “Don't do it, Liv.”

“Uh?”

“Kiss me. Don't do it.”

“I wasn't going to kiss you” I say with a nervous laugh, my face already burning. Fuck.

“But you were thinking about it, weren't you?” he smirks.

“No.”

“Sure” he says, his smirk turning into a grin.

“Ok, fine. What if I was, uh? Is there any problem with that?”

“Yes and no.”

“What?”

“No, because I also want to kiss you, and yes, because we can't do it until we have had that conversation we were supposed to have months ago.”

“Oh, that… yes” I say, focusing on my hands. “I've wanted to talk about that too for a while but never found the moment.”

“Well, this is it. And even though the chivalrous thing to do would be to let you speak first, I can't, Liv. I must be the one explaining everything first because I am the one who behaved like a dick and the one who broke your heart.”

“Declan, you didn't…”

“C'mon, Liv” he says with a sad laugh. “You know I did and that I hurt you. I hurt you really really bad.”

“I… You did, yes” I whisper.

“I hurt you and I think I will never be able to forgive myself for it. Because I… I didn't want to do it, you know? Like… urgh” he says, running his hands through his hair.

“It's ok” I say, reaching for one of them as he lets them rest on his lap, interlacing my fingers with his and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“I never meant to hurt you or treat you the way I did, Liv” Declan says, looking at me. “I swear that was never my intention. But I… I was a coward. I was a coward who got scared because he had never felt for any girl the things I was feeling for you. The things I still feel for you. Because I love you, Olivia” he says, those blue eyes of his looking at me in a way that hadn't before. It's like I could feel them reaching my heart and my soul if that makes any sense. “Each day I'm more convinced that I've loved you since the moment we met and you made me that first coffee, because I haven't been able to get you out of my head since then. And that scared me, Liv. That scared me so much… That's why sometimes I would ignore you and be cold around you. Because what I was feeling for you was so new and so intense that instead of just enjoying it, I would sabotage it. I talked about it many times with my brothers and some of my best friends, and they all gave me really good advice, the main one being: don't fuck it up, Declan. But instead of following it, I did the opposite and ruined it all. Instead of telling you how I felt, I ran away from you every time my feelings overwhelmed me. Because I was a coward, Liv. The biggest coward ever.”

“You weren't a coward, Declan” I say, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“I was, Liv. I was a coward who fucked up big time, breaking the heart of the woman he loved, and making her despise me.”

“I never despised you. I hated you for a while, but I never despised you” I say, caressing his cheek.

“But you should have. What I did to you that summer… The way I played with you for months… I deserved it.”

“You did, yes. Olga agrees on that” I chuckle.

“I was going to explain everything to you that day, you know? I was going to tell you that I loved you and that I had been a dick who didn't deserve you. That I was going to work on myself to fix all my insecurities, that I wanted to become someone worth it of you even if you didn't want anything to do with me ever again. But then…”

“We got carried away.”

“A bit, yes” he smiles. “Then when we crossed paths again and I overheard you talking with Harry about being pregnant, and the thought that it could be mine didn't cross my mind, you know? I only thought that you had moved on just like I was trying to do and miserably falling at because you are the only woman I love, and that I deserved to feel the way I was feeling, that I had broken your heart and now it was my turn to feel that pain. But then you told me he was mine, and it was like the skies opened” he chuckles. “Because I saw it as the world giving me a second chance to fix things and do them right this time. To make up for all the wrong choices and mistakes I had made and stop being a coward. I couldn't keep being that person now that I was going to be a father. I needed to step up, to be the best version of myself for that little person that was about to come to the world and change everything forever. But while focusing on that, we've been getting closer again. And even though the thought of us getting back together is something that I've tried to keep locked away to just focus on your pregnancy and Ollie, on you two being safe… It's been almost impossible. The idea of us being a family, of us raising him together as a couple like I had dreamt many times before ruining it all, is something I constantly find myself thinking about, especially when we are together. Because I've found myself falling in love with you more than I already was, Liv. And hiding my feelings for you has been so hard… So fucking hard. You don't know how many times I've wanted to kiss you and love you but I've had to stop myself. So many times…”

“And here I was thinking I had done something wrong” I chuckle. “Because I've also wanted to kiss you many times, you know?”

“You have?”

“Yes” I nod.

“I wish I had told you earlier how I feel. That I love you and that I always have. But there have been so many things going on these past few months that I didn't want to confuse you even more and…”

“You have said it now, haven't you?” I smile, my fingers still caressing his face.

“I have, yes” he replies, letting out a big sigh and smiling back.

“Though I already knew.”

“What?”

“I overheard you telling your mum about it before Ollie decided it was time to come to the world.”

“You… shit.”

“And that's why I said earlier that I've been wanting to speak with you. I needed to know if what you had told her was real or if it was just my mind playing games, because Declan… I love you too.”

“You…”

“I think I've also been in love with you since the moment I met you at the cafeteria, because I haven't been able to keep you out of my head either. And yes, you hurt me and you broke my heart, but I… I never stopped loving you. I couldn't despite Olga constantly telling me that I should.”

“You should have listened to her, Liv.”

“Yeah, well” I shrug. “The thing is that then I got pregnant, and those feelings were still there, growing and getting stronger. And then there were moments where it felt like we were getting closer again and you were going to kiss me, but then you wouldn't, and like I said, I didn't know if I was doing something wrong, if it was my hormones making me imagine it all, if it was just me wishing we could go back to what we used to have, if I was making the same mistakes again and letting you play with my feelings… It was confusing as fuck” I laugh.

“I wasn't playing with your feelings, Liv. I'm so sorry you felt like that. I know I did it in the past, and even though I wasn't doing it intentionally to hurt you, I… That wasn't the case this time. I promise you.”

“I know” I smile. “But then when you surprised me with the nursery… I knew it. I knew it wasn't my hormones messing up with me. It was just how I felt. I loved you and I was falling in love with you more and more each day, and since Ollie was born it has gotten to a point where I… I… I just fucking love you, Declan Rice. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you and…”

“And so am I, Liv. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you. I love you” he says before kissing me.

And you know, even though we've kissed many times before, none of those kisses have felt like this one. There has not been a single kiss in my life that has made me feel the way this one is, to be honest.

Because there has not been anyone I've loved the way I love Declan, and probably never will.

#declan rice #declan rice fanfic #declan rice x reader #declan rice imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

21 notes · View notes