Tumgik
#i hadn't even realised how much i missed it
parfaitblogs · 5 hours
Text
fresh out the slammer ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer reid comes home from prison, and needs to fulfil everything he has missed about you. 
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut & comfort (18+ mdni) tags: post prison!reid. soft dom!spencer. teeth might rot i was cringing during some of this. established relationship. the briefest of breast play because what do i hate? the word nipple! fingering. p in v. no protection is mentioned but imagine what you will. casual nudity afterwards. spencer's got bruises from prison. i lowkey forgot about his thigh wound until the very end.  word count: 5.7k a/n: there's a completely different version of me in a world where i didn't write this. i hope she's doing well. i feel like i've been reborn. this is stupidly long LOL my apologies. pleaseee tell me if you liked this! or if you didn't! i love feedback! here's my monthly smut fic see you all in october!
Three months wasn't a long time, in the grand scheme of things. A quarter of a year usually went by too quickly for anybody's liking, the year sprinting through seasons until all twelve months were complete, and you were repeating it all over again. Usually. Three months without Spencer Reid, however, went by achingly slowly. And you hadn't originally considered just how agonising they could be. 
Each day was another painful mirror of the last, waking up and going to bed with the same sense of dread in your stomach, oftentimes swallowing you whole and leaving you unable to do just about anything at all. 
Living life without Spencer Reid was hard.
You saw him — of course you did. Despite his original efforts to keep you off the approved visitors list, Penelope Garcia had seen one glimpse of your heart shattered expression upon being told, and marched her way to the prison to slap sense into him. You weren't sure if that was metaphoric or not. 
However, seeing him once every other week and living with him were two very different situations. You hadn't realised just how much you had depended on him always being there when you woke up in the morning until you were waking up to cold bed sheets and a pillow clutched petulantly to your chest in hopes of recreating the warmth only Spencer could provide. 
And then he was free. 
From prison, that is. You hadn't heard it all — information about his time in prison had been kept from you in an attempt to protect your own peace of mind. But you knew from at least the bruises he was always sporting no matter when you went to visit him, that something awful had happened to him in there, and his own brain would keep him imprisoned for as long as it wished. 
But he was free.
And he was here, and you were staring up at his face littered with unkempt facial hair and a head of untreated curls, and regardless of everything horrific he had endured brewing behind his eyes, he was staring at you with the same softness he had before any of this happened. 
Despite the beginning of a protest when you wrapped your arms around his torso, you hugged him, and he hugged you, and even the faintest smell of grime and blood couldn't stop you from gripping onto him with so much force you thought your knuckles would break. 
"You're real," you whispered into his chest, muffled by it, and it shook beneath your face as he laughed, quietly. Beautifully.
"I am," he answered, and you could feel him crushing his own facial features into the top of your head, no doubt inhaling your shampoo. "You're real."
"Yes," you confirmed with a nod.
Maybe hours passed, perhaps only minutes. Whichever it was, you were still reluctant to pull away from him until he did, your face stained with tear streaks you don't remember shedding, his own eyes glassy as your gazes met. 
"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" you asked him, walking backwards as you led him out of the doorway you two had been finding solace in, and further into the apartment space you were ecstatic to share together again. 
"Not particularly," he answered, strides catching up to you and encasing your waist between his hands, tugging your body closer to his own. "Is that okay?"
"As long as you promise not to keep it in," you replied, teeth chewing into your lower lip in a contemplative habit. 
"I have counselling at work," he said, and you nodded, your facial features softening only a little — you knew him well enough to know he wouldn't enjoy said counselling sessions. Breath tickled your lips as he leaned in a little closer, inciting heat onto your cheeks. "Any other questions?"
"No," you replied, your own lips twitching in amusement. "That's it. Why?"
"Because I haven't kissed you in three months," he murmured, "and I want to."
"Maybe," you said with a hum, and he said your name chidingly, eliciting a laugh from you. "Yeah. Okay."
To be honest, you had spent a few too many nights allowing your thoughts to wander and end up dreaming about what it would be like to kiss him again. Whether or not either of you would have the patience to be gentle and kind to one another. In those nights, you had decided you would be. Your heart cracking every time you thought of Spencer alone in a concrete cell that it left you with a gaping hole in your chest. All you really wanted was to hold him and remind him how adored he was. 
Right now, you learned you wouldn't be. 
There was a tenderness in the way his hands found your cheeks to cup, and there was a softness in his fingertips against your skin. Yet, everything he kissed with was anything but. Feverish and quick, swallowing you whole and inspiring a spark in your chest that resulted in you kissing back just as hungry. 
Just when you thought there was nothing left to trigger within him, a squeak left your lips as the result of him tugging you impossibly closer, and he was beginning to walk you backwards, even further into the apartment, his kiss growing all consuming. 
"Spencer," you said, breathlessly, jerking your head back, staring at him, waiting for him to realise you weren't returning your lips to his, and his eyes opened. 
"What?" he asked, almost irritatedly. When he watched the slight flicker of hurt flash on your face at the tone, his own expression became gentler. "I'm sorry. Is something wrong?"
Immediately, you shook your head. "No. I just wanted to check how far you wanted to go," your hands travelled up to his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. "I know there's a lot going on up here."
"Actually, right now it's just you," he said, tilting a head to the side to lean into one of your palms. "It's mostly you all the time. But right now you're consuming it."
"I make such an impact on your life," you quipped. 
"I know you're teasing, but you do," he replied, fingers tracing up and down either side of your jawline, eyes searching each small detail on your face he had no doubt already memorised. "I survived in there for you."
"Oh."
Probably not the most eloquent response for the things he had just confessed, but truly your brain had scrambled within an instant, and you weren't sure what to say.
"Sorry," he said, hands stilling on your face. "To answer your question, I don't know. I really missed you."
"I know," you said when a gaping silence followed his words. "We don't have to."
"I think I want to."
Your eyebrows furrowed. "You can't think, Spence. You've gotta know."
"I've definitely said that to you before," he chided, thinking for a moment, before, "yes. I did. First time we had sex."
"Sue me for repeating important sexual advice to you, Spencer Reid," you huffed. He laughed. 
"No, I mean, I do. Want to," he finally replied. "I'm really scared of hurting you."
"Do you want to hurt me?"
"No."
"Then you won't," you reassured him, despite knowing whatever doubt he had in himself would not be resolved just like that, and it'll probably eat at his mind for a long while. "And even if you do, I won't be upset with you." When his face scrunched and his expression mirrored judgement, you stammered to clarify. "Not in a kinky way. Don't look at me like that, Spencer. Stop it. I just meant I'll understand. And I won't be mad."
"Didn't take you to be into masochism," he mumbled, and you groaned at his selective hearing, dropping your forehead to his shoulder, that shook with his laughter. "Kidding, honey. I know what you mean."
"Not funny."
"It was a little," he countered, a hand reaching up to entangle within your hair to pull your head back, gently, so he could look at you again. 
"Hi," you said when your eyes locked once more. 
"Hello," he answered, his lips pulling into a smile. "I'd like to kiss you again."
"You've used up your kiss for the day, actually," you replied, sweetly beaming up at him. 
"Quiet," he shot back, leaning forwards and allowing his lips to brush hesitantly against yours, eyes searching your own with an added hint of desperation. "Please?"
You pretended to think for a moment too long, because he was already mumbling something that sounded a little like 'brat', and pressed his mouth to yours once more. 
You couldn't complain. 
It was the same intensity as earlier, and yet there was something in it that differentiated the homesickness of the kiss from then, and the desperation now. Large hands — that you would probably allow to encase you whole — pathetically held your face lightly, hips knocking with yours as he walked you backwards and up against the back of the couch. 
"Spence," you whimpered embarrassingly, hands clawing at the sleeves of his suit jacket, trialling and failing at tugging it off his body. 
"I got you, sweet girl," he mumbled against your lips, not breaking the kiss for even a second as he helped you, shrugging the jacket off and allowing it to fall to the floor — something he will certainly chastise himself for later. 
"Bedroom," you said, in between heavy breaths and feverish kisses. A request he was more than happy to comply to, for he had nodded, and you were instantaneously tugging on one of his hands in the direction of the room, his eyes fixated on your body as he trailed behind. 
"Missed you so much," he murmured as he tugged you back towards him the second he had kicked the door shut, lips finding the corner of your mouth, then your jawline, then your neck, as he kissed down you. 
"So you've said," you breathed out, tilting your head to the side as he gently nipped at the skin. 
"Do you get off on being mean to me?" he chided, lifting his head to look at you again, and your heart stuttered. 
"No. Just that dominance act that it brings out," you murmured, attempting to keep the mood light. Successfully so, for air huffed out of his nose as his lips twitched, fingers that had dropped to your waist squeezing it gently. In unresolved doubt, you added, "I missed you too. Don't worry."
"I'm not," he replied, and the weight lifted off your shoulders. "Lie down."
"So demanding," you teased, though his tone was anything but firm.
You were met with an unimpressed look, and you merely grinned back as you climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged atop it, staring up at him expectingly.
Instead of moving over you like you had expected, he crouched at the foot of the bed, holding his hands out on the mattress in front of you. Needing no more than the simple gesture, you untangled your legs and stretched them out in front of you, and he tugged you down towards the end of the bed, breath hitting the skin of your thighs deliciously. 
"I'm supposed to be making you feel good," you argued when his fingers trailed up the sides of your legs, finding the waistband of your pyjama shorts.
"Why?" he questioned, halting his movements as he searched your face. 
"Because you're the one who just got out of prison," his face scrunched at the verbal reminder. "Sorry. But... yeah. I have thought about making you come the day you got home like daily."
"Oh have you?" his eyebrows shot up, and it was then that your brain caught up to your running mouth, and your cheeks heated up. 
"Nope. Forget I said anything."
"No," he pushed himself up from the floor, moving his body over yours on the bed, successfully forcing you to lie back. "Tell me those thoughts."
"Spencer," you moaned, shaking your head as you buried your face into your hands, that he was a little too quick to catch and pry away. 
"I'm not going to judge you," he said, amused. "In fact, I aspire to know every single thought there is up in that pretty head of yours. Especially the ones about me. Please tell me."
"I just thought about making you come. There's nothing more exciting to it."
"Yes, but how?" 
"My mouth, I guess," you mumbled, voice going impossibly quiet. "I don't know."
"You're acting like you have never given me oral," he said, catching your gaze within milliseconds of you averting it, thumb and forefinger straightening your head again. 
"Nobody says oral, Spencer. Say head," your own face now scrunched up. 
"Lots of people say oral," he defended. 
"Yeah, old people. We are not old people."
"Fine, you're acting like you have never given me head." 
Despite it being a jab at him to take the heat off of you, the phrase coming out from his lips sounded exceptionally vulgar for what it was, and it only resulted in your stomach flipping. 
Finally, you regained some control over your own thoughts, and you found it in you to reply. "That's what I want to do. Because I want to make you feel good."
"You underestimate how much I gain from making you feel good," he countered, fingers lazily caressing the skin of your jaw as his eyes studied your face with an intensity that had your stomach flipping. 
"It cannot be as good as an orgasm," you huffed, stubbornly so. 
He nipped at your nose. "It is."
"Can we compromise?" 
"So you don't want me to give you oral?" his eyebrows rose. 
In every other situation, you would not be fighting him on this. In fact, he would probably have already gotten his foreplay of teasing and teetering you on the edge out of the way by now, and you'd be well and truly content. However, the forefront of your mind was still plagued by how little time Spencer had to take care of himself, and the last thing you needed him to be was at your service. Despite his protests. 
"Head," you corrected. "And no."
He searched for remnants of a lie for a few beats longer, before he nodded his head, giving in. "What's your compromise, honey?"
"I don't think there's a sexy way to say to just put it in me," you said, and his lips curled up into an amused smile, followed by a huff of laughter. 
"No, I don't think there is," he agreed. "I do think anything you say can be sexy, though."
You pulled a face, and you shook your head. "No. Don't say that ever again either."
"I can't compliment you, I can't give you ora—head," he rattled off. "Is there anything good I get out of this?"
"You get to fuck me?" you batted your eyelashes up at him. 
"Such vulgar language," he chastised, ducking his head when a hand of yours rose to swat him. 
Despite himself, his head had dropped to the crook of your neck, and he had begun placing feather like kisses along the skin that distracted you just enough to drop your hand back to the mattress beneath you.
Any other day, and you'd probably still be bickering with him until the minute he made you come. However, three months without even the faintest of touches from him left you overwhelmed with everything he did to you, and so the gentle kisses trailing down to the collar of your shirt were enough to destroy any coherent thoughts you could have. 
Cautiously, and with a touch so delicate, Spencer lifted your — his — shirt up your abdomen, fingertips leaving behind the warmest of trails as they skimmed along your skin. One quiet whine from you was all it took for him to hurry his teasing along, and soon enough your shirt was discarded. 
A quiet, sharp inhale of air was the other sound aside from your quickened breathing, and you felt tears sting your vision as another kiss was placed just below your now exposed collarbone. 
The time without you seemed to weigh nothing in his mind as he took every inch of you in separately, lips mapping out your body like it was the first time all over again, though still knowing exactly when to pause and pay attention to for the sweetest of sounds to be ripped from your throat. 
He liked to hear you. 
Fingers found your waist as his lips kissed down your sternum, then back up and over until they reached your nipple. He spent time on each breast, ignoring your impatient whining as he neglected the rest of you for a few minutes too long (in your opinion).
"Spencer," you scolded, and it was all it took for him to accept you were not in the mood to wait, and for him to decide he wasn't either. 
"Sorry, honey," he replied, voice impossibly soft as he returned his lips to your face, a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth as his fingers found your shorts again. "Can I take these off?"
"I think we're incredibly out of balance," you replied. And though there wasn't really anything wrong with the sentence — you had certainly said it before — he still pulled back, an unrecognisable grey clouding his eyes. "What?"
"I want to keep my shirt on," was his response, the words inciting confusion to your face. 
"What? Why?"
"Do I need a reason?"
You wanted to scream that yes, he did. But did he? Wordlessly, you shook your head, but it didn't help the pang of worry in your chest. 
"Unless there's something like an embarrassing tattoo, I'm not going to judge you," you decided to say instead. "Did you get an embarrassing tattoo in prison?"
"No," he shook his head, and you were comforted by the amusement in his tone. "I didn't have the best time in prison."
"I know," you replied.
"And I wasn't very liked. By the men in there."
You knew that too, to an extent. You knew the bruises on his face weren't self inflicted. "You're liked by me."
"I know, sweet girl," a heart shatteringly sad smile stretched across his face as a hand lifted to your cheek. "It just isn't very pretty. And I don't want you to worry."
Well, now you were. Regardless, you nodded your head, turning your head to the side so you could kiss the palm of the hand on your face. "I won't worry, then."
"I want to keep my shirt on. Can that please be okay with you?" 
Silently, and after a debate inside your brain, you nodded your head. Gratefully, he pecked your lips once more, before his focus shifted back to you and your body. 
"Shorts. Can I take them off?" he asked, again.
"Yes."
"Thank you."
His fingers collected the fabric of your shorts' waistband, and gently pulled them down your legs, cool air washing over you despite the final leftover article of clothing on your body. You shivered, and you could hear him mumbling nearly incoherent apologies as he kissed your stomach.
"These too?" he then asked, eyes flickering between your face for confirmation, and the pair of underwear you still had residing on your body. You nodded your head, and he pulled them down too.
You do not remember a time ever fearing being naked beneath Spencer Reid's gaze, and that did not change even now, as an arguably different man drank in your entire body, the love he had for you not having wavered despite the passing of time. 
And you certainly did not fear the way one of his hands slid up your leg, seemingly soothingly, until it teetered on the edge of too far up the limb to be innocent, and he was intensely watching your face for every reaction you could possibly make. 
Achingly gently, his middle finger ran up the centre, collecting arousal you hadn't realised was there and knuckle gently bumping your clit, eliciting a quiet mewl from you. You watched him smile at the sound, dragging his finger back down, gathering more of your arousal until he was pushing the finger in.
Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling oh so familiar, and yet seemingly foreign all at once. Too long, you decided then. Three months is too long.
Leaning back down, his lips brushed your jawline, the otherwise odd sensation of there being something — someone — inside of you balancing out with the pleasure that came from the comfort of it being him. And of course the delicate circles his thumb had begun to draw on your clit. 
"Did you do this while I was in prison?" he asked you, lips moving against your skin. 
"Touch myself?" 
"Mhm."
"Yeah," you said, voice breathless. "Was never good, though."
"No?" he asked, curling his finger inside of you and tugging a louder moan from your throat. "Why not?"
"Just never felt as nice. Not like you."
"Oh. I'm sorry, angel," he murmured, pulling his lips away so he could look at you again. Though, your eyes were still planted shut. "I'll make up for it then, yeah?"
You feverishly nodded your head, and he laughed. Fulfilling his promise, he sped up the motions of his finger and thumb, your hands grabbing ahold of fistfuls of the sheets, in hopes that it will provide some comfort from the overwhelming feeling of Spencer touching you again. 
"Can I add another finger?" he asked, and though slightly hesitant, you nodded your head. 
He waited a beat longer before fulfilling your request, and there was something obscene about how easily another finger entered you. Though, Spencer thought it was pretty, and your back arching was pretty, and yes, he had missed this and he had missed you and he was biting his tongue from telling you that all over again. 
"Spencer," a delicately breathy whine left your lips when the heel of his palm collided with your clit — thumb long forgotten once he had gotten distracted with thrusting fingers in and out of you. 
"Hm?"
Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, the kindest smile on his face reminding you just how much he adored you, and your heart sporadically beat in your chest. When you didn't say anything else, he quickened his ministrations, eliciting more whines and moans.
"Is two orgasms too much for tonight?" he asked you, the question seemingly innocent regardless of both it's undertones, and what he was currently doing to you. 
In hindsight you should've probably said yes. It most certainly would've hurried things along to something he would enjoy as much as you. However, if Spencer Reid fingering you was a religion, you were an eternally loyal follower, and you would do anything to keep him there for as long as you could. 
So you shook your head, murmuring a quiet, "No. I can do two," and allowing him to fasten his fingers once more. 
Fingers found and massaged that spot inside of you he had probably engrained into his brain, and he was leaning down to swallow the loud moan that followed from the feeling. Practiced motions tore the same sounds from your throat as he repeatedly brushed up against it, until your eyes were forced to squeeze shut once more, and hands that were once seeking solace in the sheets, found his wrist and wrapped around it. 
"I can't move if you're going to keep my arm locked up, angel," he said when your nails dug into his wrist, lips smiling against your skin. 
A few short jerks of his hand convinced you to let go of the death grip you had on him, instead returning them to the mattress.
Then he was doing that motion again, and again, and you were silently praying he would never stop. Although, if your moans were any indication to where you were at — and they were — Spencer wouldn't. 
Your hips bucking told him more than he needed to know, and the absence of his body above you when he lay down on the bed next to you was long forgotten when a splayed hand on your abdomen pushed you back down into the mattress, your heart stuttering at the feeling. 
Gentle whines of his name, and a repeated mantra of 'please, please, please' was the only thing your otherwise dismantled brain could come up with, and Spencer was relishing in the knowledge that he was doing this to you. And though it is something he knows he's done before, it had been far too long since and the reminder was always welcome. 
"I know, sweet girl," he said against you when your eyes came open and searched his desperately, walls fluttering around his fingers indicating just how close you were. 
"Please don't stop."
"I won't," he confirmed, punctuating the promise with his thumb returning to your clit. He had your best interest in mind — you knew that. He now wouldn't stop even if you begged him to. 
Overwhelming seemed too insignificant of a word to describe what you felt like when you came, nerve endings all over your body sparking, instead of just the ones he was stimulating. 
His thumb rubbing circles and his fingers thrusting in and out of you didn't falter until your shaking body had stilled and your strings of moans had diminished, slowly coming to a stop and leaving your body — seemingly — as fast as they had entered. 
The content smile on your face was interrupted with Spencer's hand lifting to your lips, and instinctively you parted them, already knowing exactly what he was after. 
His middle and ring fingers entered your mouth, and your face scrunched up despite yourself as you tasted yourself on them. He laughed at that — of course he did — and pulled them out soon after. 
"You do that every time," he murmured, hair tickling your skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over your shoulder, up towards your neck. 
"It tastes weird," you argued, and his teeth nipping your skin told you he disagreed. Though, he wasn't in the mood to argue, for he didn't say anything else on the matter. 
"Still got it in you for one more?" he asked you, pulling his head back so he could see you once again. 
"Yes."
"Good."
Your eyes watched him even as he rolled back to take his pants off, and the awkward smile he gave you provided the inkling of comfort that there was still the man from three months prior in there. 
"I really missed you, you know?" This time it was you saying it, piercing the air as his hand came down between your thighs to part them. The head of his cock nudged against you, brushing delicately through your folds and eliciting a quiet whimper from your lips. 
"I know," he answered, pressing kisses on your shoulder once more. "Are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah. I'm fine," you confirmed with a nod, confusion crossing your features all up until you learned why he was asking. 
A broken moan, choked and caught in your throat, left you when he painstakingly slowly pushed inside of you. There's not a lot going on inside your mind when he stops, your entire body aflame and equally desperate for more, as you were for him to take a moment here. 
"I love you," he breathed out, the words hurried and encouraging your heart to speed up, and your mind to melt even more. 
"I love you too," you said back, voice just as quiet, gently nudging hips ushering for him to move. 
"Impatient girl," he muttered, but you smiled nonetheless because he did (move). 
His thrusts were slow, and gentle, but you never truly minded how much time he took with you once you two were here. Even more so now, for you were on the same page as him, and you wanted to savour every single moment of this down to the second. 
A whimper left your lips, followed closely by the desperate whisper of his name, and lips that were still resting against your shoulder smiled. 
"I thought about this a lot," he said to you, his hand that was holding your thighs slightly open sliding up to find your clit. "I definitely shouldn't have."
"Why?" You knew why, but the thought of hearing him answer it aloud excited you a little. 
Unfortunately, he knew you better than that. "Don't play coy. You know why, honey."
"You're cruel," you huffed, and he laughed, rolling his hips to meet yours, earning another moan. "Maybe I don't."
"Use that wonderful imagination of yours, then," he answered, rubbing your clit at the same time as he moved his hips once more, effortlessly rendering you unable to respond to him again. 
A teenage boy probably could've lasted longer than the both of you, but you decided to blame it all on your already sensitive nerves from a prior orgasm, and the fact that Spencer Reid had not had you like this for over 2190 hours (not that he was counting).
Whimpers escaped your throat as he kept his hips thrusting into you at an achingly slow pace, while his fingers working on your clit did anything but. It was an aching juxtaposition that left you reeling for more, and Spencer was now the one shutting his eyes so he could hold onto some semblance of composure. 
"Spencer," you pleaded, and it was a quiet moan from behind you that told you he was exactly where you were. 
"I know, honey," he replied, the desperation in his voice jumpstarting your heart. "Need to come, yeah?"
"Mmhm," you nodded your head quickly, breathlessly moaning. "Please."
"You're going to. Don't worry. Don't need to beg, sweet girl."
Commingled moans and obscenely wet noises filled the air, and your hips stuttered as your stomach twisted into knots. 
Chanting his name like a prayer, you meet him wherever your two souls go in that moment, and it's a shuddering feeling as you come at the same time as him. For the first time in forever. 
His hand drops back to your thigh and he massages the muscles there gently, willing himself to stop before he crossed the line of overstimulation — not that you think you'd complain about that. 
There was an emptiness when he pulled out, but then he was kissing you again to make up for it, and you were smiling against his lips as you kissed him back. This time, without the fever. 
"How're you feeling?" he asked you, quietly. 
"Happy," you answered, forcing your heavy eyelids open when he pulled back. "How are you feeling?"
"Also happy," he agreed, and your heart soared. 
"Good."
"You need to go pee," he said, placing another kiss on your cheek, before he leaned his body away entirely. 
"Help?"
Arguably, you could do it yourself. Your limbs were tired, yes, and your mind was melting, but you were coherent enough to brave it alone. 
Thankfully, you didn't have to. 
He carried you to the bathroom, running the bath water after you had silently begged him for it with your eyes (looking between him and the empty bath with wide eyes and a jutted lip worked wonders), and leaving you to pee. 
"Are you getting in with me?" you asked him as wobbly legs akin to a fawn carried you over to the now full and steaming bathtub. 
"Do you want me to?"
Hesitantly, you nodded your head, fidgeting with your fingers in front of you. "But you'd have to take your shirt off. So you don't have to."
He studied your face for a moment longer, before he nodded, and fingers expertly worked at unbuttoning down the shirt. 
"I'm okay now. That's the important thing you have to remember, okay?" his words provided little comfort, but you nodded your head regardless. 
You had a suspicion already of what sight you were going to be met with, but it didn't stop the guilt settling into your chest when the shirt fell to the floor anyways. 
"Spence," you murmured, taking a hesitant step forwards, heart falling to your stomach. 
Bruises littered the skin, some fresh and still purple, others nearly healed and yellowing. But there were so many, and it was then that you were swallowing the rest of him in with your eyes, catching the bandage on his thigh. 
"What is that?" you nodded towards the covered wound, and when your eyes returned to his face again, he was staring at you with an unreadable expression. 
"A lot happened," he answered, quietly, before repeating, "I'm okay now."
You nodded your head, tears stinging your vision for nothing more than your ridiculous amount of empathy. "Can you tell me about it?"
"I will," he promised. "Eventually. Just not now, okay? I haven't processed it all yet."
"Okay," you replied, and his heart shattered at the sight of a tear slipping down your face. 
"Hey," he took ahold of your hand and tugged you closer to him, fingers running through your hair and resting at the base of your scalp. "I promise, honey. I'm not going to disintegrate from a few bruises."
"It isn't just a few," you answered, voice wavering. "There's so many."
"You have a heart too big for your chest," he decided to say instead, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "Most of them don't even hurt now. Please believe me when I say I'm okay."
"I'm trying," your voice is thick with a sob caught in your throat. "I think I'm just really tired."
"Yeah," he crooned, agreeing. "Your body's released a lot of prolactin, which encourages sleep. Alongside the endorphins and dopamine that you're crashing from upon seeing this."
Wordlessly, you nodded your head, and he kissed the tip of your nose in an attempt to comfort. 
"Bath, then we can sleep, and we can talk more in the morning," he listed off, and you merely nodded your head once more, sniffling and wiping your eyes. 
"Okay."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
217 notes · View notes
pynkhues · 1 year
Note
hi!! i love your succession meta/discussions and I just rewatched 3.02 where all four Roy siblings talk about what was happening with the migrants/dancers/cruise ships etc. and how Connor and Kendall wholly admitted to knowing, but Roman and Shiv didn’t … or didn’t actually know. I’m so interested in seeing more of these kinds of things in s4, like warped versions of their experiences, completely different perspectives depending on the sibling. Also, in 3.08 Caroline corrects Shiv that she was 13 when Caroline and Logan divorced, and not 10 like Shiv says… like these details are super intriguing to me! i hope to see more of their childhoods unpacked (especially Connor)! take care by the way!! <3
Hi! Thank you so much, anon! This was a really lovely ask to get. <3
I totally agree about being fascinated by the distinctions the show makes and what that means in terms of memory, ignorance, accountability and complicity, and luckily for both of us, I think the show is too, haha. It circles around a lot - in the examples you gave, but also in Kendall, Roman and Connor's different understanding of the dog pound game, Roman repurposing memories of Connor to use for Logan and in - - well. Pretty much everything in the fallout of Shiv's wedding.
Hell, even in today's episode, memory is weaponised twice over - first with Logan choosing to use the past against Greg ("Where's your old man, huh? Still sucking cock at the county fair?") when Greg tries to use the present against Logan ("Where are your kids?") and then, in a much more complicated scene, with Tom and Shiv at the end of the episode, where Tom wanted to talk about the past while Shiv couldn't allow herself that vulnerability.
If we're the sum of the things we've done, what does that mean when we and the people we love have done terrible things? When do these things become memory, and what power do we have to re-write our stories? How can we protect ourselves from what we've done, and others from what we've done to them? How do we hold them accountable for what they've done to us? Who does a truth belong to? And why is it that sometimes it can heal, as it does for Kendall in 3.09, cut, as it's done to Shiv and Tom now, and lock us down, as it's done to many of the people on the periphery of the Roy's lives?
It's complicated! And man, am I just glad this show is back.
10 notes · View notes
writingsbychlo · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
BUY ME PRESENTS | draco malfoy
summary; draco loves you, and you love him. he just needs a little push to make things official. OR, draco malfoy fighting for his life when he realises just how much everyone wants his girl.
word count; 8928
notes; this is based on christmas eve, but I'm posted a couple days later! this fic puts us half way through our slytherin boy holidays! I'm not sure how the one I expected to be the shortest became the longest one so far. like, seriously, I know I keep saying this but wtf? why can't I write a short fic?
Tumblr media
Dinner had already been served by the time you made it to the Grand Hall, the smells of roasted meats and seasoned potatoes filling the air, your mouth watering as you navigated between the throngs of people. Your seat had been saved, of course. A spot on the bench between Draco and Daphne, and as you neared, your friends noticed, smiles rising and waves in your direction. 
Sinking into your seat, you pressed a kiss to the cheek of the blond boy beside you, his face tipping up to receive it and lips twisting into a smile, attention moving to you as you sat. 
“Good day?”
“Better now that it’s over.” You smiled, a chuckle falling from him, and his hand came to rest upon your thigh, squeezing comfortingly while you helped yourself to a plate of whatever food was left. “What are we talking about, what did I miss?”
“Not much. Just Theo telling us all about Christmas in Italy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, as though you all hadn't heard this exact same speech since that very first Christmas you’d become friends. Most of the group seemed to have simply tuned it out, laughing and nodding at the correct times as they whispered their own conversations. 
A swipe of a thumb over your thigh as you finished filling your plate with food, and you shifted your attention to Draco. “So, what are your Christmas plans, Dray?”
Shuffling a little bit closer now that your plate was full, his arm moved to lay across your shoulders instead, letting you snuggle up into his side. “Oh, you know, the usual.” 
He smiled, and your world seemed to get a little bit brighter, his lips brushing your hairline as he left a barely-present kiss there. 
“Typical Malfoy-family Christmas. I get to do the tour with my parents, visiting every other rich-arsehole couple they know. Christmas Eve party. The pleasure of my father’s annual ‘you’re growing up now, son, it’s time to get serious about the world’ over the dinner table on Christmas Day. Open some presents I don’t want, on a schedule I don’t like.” He sighed, clearly used to it by now, but it didn’t make it sound any less awful.
“Well,” You smile, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Maybe we could write to one another, or even get a little visit in?” 
The hope in your voice was evident, and Pansy gave you an encouraging smile across the table. You’d been meaning to ask Draco this question for weeks now, and your last chance had been fast approaching. Since the summer, you and Draco had been hooking up. It was no secret among your friends, or even the students; your affections for one another were hardly contained, but it wasn't official. 
You wanted the labels, the security, and the safety of knowing that he was yours and you were his, and nobody else could come between you. You wanted to be introduced to his parents, be his date at events, to have him be proud to call you his girl. But Draco had been hesitant, avoiding every conversation that might inch into the ‘so, what are we?’ territory, keeping a safe distance from any kind of real commitment. 
It wasn’t enough for you anymore, not by a long shot, but trying to talk to Draco about it only ended up with him shutting it down, or skilfully diverting the conversation and you were growing tired of his games. 
Draco only made a vague noise, neither an agreement nor disagreement, and looked away from you as he picked up his drink to take a sip. “I don’t know… maybe. I can get pretty busy over the holidays, I’d hate to let you down.”
Another skill of his, making it seem like cancelling or delaying or not doing something at all was your idea. He was clearly hoping you’d brush it off, and tell him not to worry about it, but instead, you kept quiet. Not giving him the satisfaction of any easy win, this time. 
Pansy caught your eye across the table, shaking her head disapprovingly, and shooting a glare at an oblivious Draco. She had been your confidant these last few months, every update and development in your situationship, she’d been informed of. Every decision, she’d been a part of. She was practically as invested as you were, at this point, and she certainly did not approve of his nonchalant behaviour either. 
“Speaking of parties,” Mattheo cut Theo off, clearly having had enough of the annual rehashing of ‘that one Christmas when Theo was eight’ for today, and changing the subject, “Who’s got their dates sorted for the Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball, and who’s daring to go solo and have Narcissa set them up like a matchmaker all night long?”
Chuckles rang out among the group, and Pansy smiled, leaning into Blaise’s side with a love-struck grin. “I think we’re safe this year.”
“I’m going solo, but, I did tell Aunty Cissa that I have my eye on a girl in one of my classes, and I’m seeing how it plays out. So, she’s not setting me up anytime soon, since she believes I’m already onto someone.” Enzo smirked, and Blaise congratulated him for his clever tactics. 
You smirked through your mouthful of food, listening to Mattheo explain his complex excuse, to Reggie mournfully spill the story of how he’s already been set up by his parents witha ‘potential bride to meet’, and how he hopes she doesn’t show up. You laugh with the others as Tom simply raises an eyebrow, knowing that even Narcissa doesn’t attempt to set him up anymore, lest he scare away any more of her friends’ daughters. Theo, ever the player he is, is looking forward to dancing with every single lady he can find, and taking his pick at the end of the night.
“I suppose nobody needs to ask Draco who his date will be.” Mattheo grins, wiggling his brows at the pair of you as you smile, leaning a little further into the man at your side. 
“Hey, who knows?” He chortles, and your eyes narrow a little, “I’ve had plenty of offers. I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Oooh.” Enzo’s eyes went wide, the other boys joining in, and Pansy fixed him with a glare. Daphne leaned around you with her jaw dropped at his statement, and you sat up from his embrace, lips pressed flat and a brow raised. 
The boys snickered, ‘he’s in shit’ and ‘someone’s in the doghouse’, but he lived for the spotlight, a drama queen at heart, and he smirked down at you. 
“Oh, c’mon. Don’t look at me like that, babe.” The playful nickname was one he only ever used when joking around. When he was sincere, he was much more romantic; darling, sweetheart, beautiful. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hi mum, hello father, meet the girl I’m skipping class to shag! Thanks for paying my tuition!’, I don’t think so.”
The boys all laughed, Daphne scoffed in sync with her sister behind you, and Pansy looked like she’d lunge across the table at any moment, if it wasn’t for her chastising Blaise for laughing, instead. ‘You and Draco can share that couch you’ll both be sleeping on tonight’, she’d said. ‘See how funny you think it is then’.
The words stung as he spoke them, dismantling your relationship down to the bare minimum; to sex and physical connection and nothing else. Like the nights spent talking until the sun came up were nothing, the times you’d held him while he cried, or washed him in the bath when he was so exhausted he could barely keep his eyes open. Like he didn’t rub your stomach for hours every month when you got cramps, or had a stash of your favourite snacks in his bedside table for whenever you came over. 
You knew that Draco Malfoy lived you, just as much as you loved him. It was evident in everything he did, every kiss and every word. But, he needed a little push.
“I suppose you’re right,” You sigh lightly, giggling along with the laughing boys around the table. “I’m not so sure Lucius wouldn't burst a blood vessel then and there.”
“Exactly.” Draco hummed, and you glanced back to Pansy. She was shocked, only for a second, before taking in the subtle signs of mischief on your face. Her own smirk stretched out in return, and her gaze flickered once to Draco, before back to you. 
A new game was afoot, and Draco wasn’t going to stand a chance.
Tumblr media
Slipping your coat from your shoulders, the annual Malfoy Christmas Eve Ball was well underway. Your parents had disappeared into the crowds before you’d even stepped out of the carriage, uncaring of where you were as long as you weren’t causing trouble. They were here to mingle with the other importants, and you were just here to learn the ropes of proper socialising.
The garment was taken from you, your small bag clutched in hand as a ticket was given to you for it, and you brushed down the front of your dress delicately. Pearls moved under your touch, beading along the bodice flat and perfected, and you felt your confidence rise as you looked at yourself once more in the reflection of a dark window. Adjusting the small lace gloves on each hand, you took a step towards the dining room. 
Elegant music was playing from a live band up on a stage, the room was decorated this year to look like a winter escape. Pale and frosty, like a palace of ice, twinkling lights and glittering decor, crisp white tablecloths and ice sculptures. A layer of goosebumps travelled along your skin at the sight of it all, despite the warming charms that took place for the guests. 
Scanning the room, you quickly found your table. The designated kids table, despite you all being legal adults and far beyond such status. You’d all be the babies of the ball until the new generation emerged, no doubt. Moving through the bodies and crowds of people politely, Theo was the first to glance up and spot you, his mouth falling open, and a rush of confidence took over as he raised two fingers to his lips and whistled. 
The sound caught the attention of the others’ chatter fading to quiet as they all turned to look for the object of his cat-calling, Enzo’s eyes widened, Pansy cheered loudly, and even Mattheo looked momentarily speechless. You’d had the same reaction when you’d seen yourself in the dress too, your stylist had truly outdone herself for this one. 
You looked flawless, and you looked expensive, and utterly elegant. Doing a little spin as you approached, a smile broke free on your lips as you stopped before the chair with your name card before it. 
“Merlin, babe,” Pansy started, drawing your attention straight her her, “You’ve got every eye on you tonight. If I was single, I’d be all over you.” 
She winked when you laughed, and Blaise rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek affectionately. 
“Pretty necklace,” She commented, and your fingers rose to the pretty string of pearls and diamonds that you had. 
“It was a gift,” You simply hummed, tugging at your gloves. Glancing at the others, you gave each a polite smile, eyes lingering on Draco as he stared. In any other style, this dress would be scandalous for an event like this. A low neckline, spaghetti straps, no sleeves. Tight and fitted to every curve of your body, and yet the classic designs and vintage nature elevated it to the kind of class Audrey Hepburn would be proud of. 
He looked just as good, a dark suit, a fresh white shirt, a champagne-coloured tie that made the colour of his eyes and his hair stand out and your mouth dried out a little. Silver rings adorned his fingers, the Malfoy signet standing out, clenched so tightly around his whiskey glass that his knuckles were almost white. 
You’d worn soft, golden makeup effects today, a dusting of glitter along your cheekbones and eyelids, a shade of pink on your cheeks and lips that you knew was his weakness. 
“Someone really wanted your attention with that, huh?” Your best friend teased, and your eyes snapped away from Draco, back to her. 
“I suppose so,” You muse, hand coming up to touch one of the beads on your ear, “Since they also got me this lovely pair of matching earrings.”
Pansy made a dramatic show of admiring them, and Blaise gave a funny look, glancing at the jewellery, and then back at Draco, who was frowning. Before you could reach for your chair after placing your clutch down, Enzo was shooting to his feet from beside you, tugging out the chair for you. 
Draco scoffed as you gave him a thank you, settling into your seat, and he glared at the man beside you. Enzo didn’t flinch, however, smirking at Draco as he spoke;
“What? It’s called being a gentleman, cousin.”
Crossing your leg delicately, you’d hardly even removed your gloves, before a tray was coming down by your side, and a young waiter with a dazzling smile was looking right at you. 
“Champagne, ma’am?” Not a planned pawn in your game, but a welcome addition, you smiled sweetly in return. 
“Oh, I’d love some. Thank you.” Taking the single glass by the stem, you lifted it from the tray and the man’s smile stretched wider as you sipped the bubbly, holding his eye. 
“Of course, miss. If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be at the bar, happy to serve.” His flirting was heavy enough that normally you’d want to roll your eyes, but tonight, you suppressed that urge, playing into it as you bat your lashes. 
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you.”
He took the dismissal, staring appreciatively as he walked away, another look over his shoulder to you as you watched him go. 
“Stop eye-fucking the help.” Draco snapped, and your focus moved to him slowly, just to find his icy glare on you. He didn’t scare you, though, all that mean bravado, but you knew what was underneath. 
“I was doing no such thing.” You tut, placing down your drink. “Don’t be jealous, Dray. You look even better in that suit. If you want compliments, just ask. No need to be mean.”
He seemed rather placated by this, his ego settling down, even if the others did laugh at him.
The conversation seemed to continue around you as you settled in, avoiding Draco’s heated stare and sipping at your champagne. The rush of warming alcohol through your veins settled every dancing nerve, and gave you the calm confidence to do what you had planned. Sitting forwards, just enough, you angled your body so that Draco might have the perfect view over your cleavage as you feigned interest in the chatter around you. 
He took the bait, his gaze falling right where you wanted it, the gems of your necklace dangling just over the swell of your breasts, and he licked his lower lip, pulling it between his teeth.
Raising your hands and catching the swinging gem, you toyed with it carefully, letting it run over your fingers. Time melted away as Draco’s gaze flicked between your nimble touch, your lips, and your chest, shuffling in his seat every so often, and gulping at the bubbly in his glass. 
He was on his third refill by the time food started to be taken around, and you took pity on him momentarily, sitting back in your chair and angling away from him, ready to receive your first course. 
As the starters came around, you turned to thank your waiter, surprised to see it was the same man from the bar who had brought you your champagne. You’d given him little thought since he’d walked away, and you’d never spotted him again, but perhaps that was exactly why he was delivering your food now, as he beamed at you and set down the plate. 
Men did love a little attention, after all. 
Reaching for the bottle of champagne cooling in the centre of the table, the waiter never looked away from you as he refilled your glass without being asked. Draco finally seemed to notice as he finished adjusting his napkin, gaze narrowing on the man serving you. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” He muttered.
You pretended to take no notice, smiling at the man and waving your fingers flirtily as he walked away.
“I’m going to get another drink at the bar,” He announced, leaving without his glass and without asking if anyone else wanted one. You knew where he was truly going, if the lock of his jaw and the stamp in his step were any indication. You doubted you’d be seeing that waiter again.
As you poked at your food, Pansy excused herself too, only a few bites into her meal before she disappeared with a wicked grin and no explanation to anyone. Enzo just chuckled beside you, glancing around the room like he was watching all the cogs of a machine in motion, before turning his gaze on you. “You do look lovely tonight, do you know that?”
“Of course I do. I spent days on end trying on dress after dress to find this.” You sighed, admiring the gorgeous piece of art on your body as you set your cutlery down. 
“And is it serving the purpose you need it to?” He teased, voice knowing, and you nodded. Flicking your gaze over the patrons and guests in the room, you searched for Draco, finding him talking politely to one of his mother’s friends at the bar. 
“It is, I think.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.” He whispered, your focus still on the man who truly held your heart, who was making his polite excuse and walking way, back towards you all. His gaze locked on yours, only for a second, before Pansy was calling your name and drawing your focus elsewhere. 
When you looked up to her, she was grinning, a man by her side. “This is Elliot, he’s been wanting to meet you for some time. I promised him I’d introduce you both tonight.”
You offered the best smile you could as his cheeks reddened, and Pansy merely patted him on the shoulder, slinking away as you offered your hand to him. “Lovely to meet you, Elliot.”
“You too. As embarrassing as that introduction was, it’s true. I have wanted to meet you for some time.” He had a kind smile and pretty eyes, and he seemed far too nice to be dragged into your game tonight, but he seemed almost like a willing participant, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As Draco took his seat, Elliot continued, “Pansy has told me so much about you. You know, if you’re free one day before you go back to that fancy boarding school of yours, I’d love to take you out.”
“Yeah? What have you got in mind?” You smile, twisting a little more to face him, and your encouragement only brightens his expression as Draco’s darkens in your peripheral.
“A night in London, perhaps. We could get dinner, and see the opera?”
“She doesn’t like the opera.” Draco sneered, openly staring at Elliot with enough contempt to scare away lesser men. Elliot tugged at his collar, glancing at Draco, and then back to you as you tried to hide your shock at his behaviour.
“The theatre, then?”
Draco looked ready to snap again, and before he could, you nodded, sparing your unwilling partner. “That sounds wonderful, I’ll see what my schedule says. I’ll get in touch with you through Pansy if I can find the time, is that okay?”
“Perfect.” He smiled, sneaking another wary glance at Draco who was not backing down from glaring at him unflinchingly, but Elliot shook it off, bravely. “It was a pleasure to meet you, truly.”
“And you, Elliot.”
Soon after he left, the plates were being cleared. You tried not to smirk as a different waiter, and one who very pointedly did not so much as even catch your gaze, cleared your dishes away at record speed. 
You knew that Draco had something, everything, to do with that. He was jealous by nature, a spoilt single child who did not like to share his favourite toys, and that is exactly what you were betting on tonight.
You stood, taking a lap around the room with Pansy to settle your food before the next course, and to get another drink. She took the opportunity to fill you in on how her first Christmas event with Blaise’s family had gone, and when you returned, you made sure to surreptitiously place yourself behind Draco’s chair. 
You placed a hand on his shoulder, a friendly gesture, squeezing and rubbing enough that your thumb swept over his collar and across his neck. His pulse jumped under your touch, and he tipped his head closer, into your touch. 
As he did so, your heart leapt in your chest. To others, it might look like a friendly gesture but to you, it meant so much more. You were tempted to cave then and there, to live with this being enough, to settle, but you couldn't. You didn’t want this to be it, you wanted to follow this by leaning down to kiss him, to have him smile against your lips in public the way he did when you were alone. 
To arrive at these events together, arms linked, and to stumble out tiredly together too. To sit by him, his hand on your thigh, to rest your head on his shoulder, to kiss him on the dance floor. The thought was enough to push you through. 
He twisted his head, to kiss your hand like he often did when you did this. Carefully, you slipped your hand away just in time, knuckles brushing across the nape of his neck as you stepped away, and back to your seat. 
His sights moved to you, but like a saving grace, the servers began to appear with more dishes, and dinner soon distracted you all. A delicious serving of salmon and potatoes, and the hall fell quiet enough for you to hear the beautiful music playing when chatter fell low. 
Low conversation, drinks refilled, and that perfect mood set across the room, as people took to the tables and quieted down. Your favourite part of the night, usually. Good food, your friends, and a chance to catch up without the usual weight of it all sitting on you. Regulus was talking, telling the rare story that had him caught up in a long conversation where he usually just observed quietly, but your attention was fixed on your lover. 
Until, Theo spoke up. 
“Oh, merda,” He muttered across Reggie’s’ story, his gaze cutting to you alarmingly quickly. “I forgot to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Your heart skipped a beat, a flash of panic.
“My cousin flew in last minute for the party, and he wants to speak to you.” Theo’s words soothed your panic, and you offered him a flat look for the dramatic way he’d put it. Taking a sip from your glass, you raised a brow.
“When?”
“Now.” He confirmed, sights lifting to sit just behind you, and before you could even turn, a chair was being pulled up beside your own from another table. Turning your head to the owner, a smile burst across your face at the man sitting before you. 
“Dario!” Your arms were around his neck before you could stop yourself, and he was chuckling as he bundled you into an equally enthusiastic hug. He chuckled lightly, pulling back only far enough to press a friendly kiss to your cheek, and you cupped his face as you parted from him. “You’re growing a beard!”
“My mother hates it.” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over it. As you twisted a little more towards him, he reached down, practically manhandling you as he reached for the edge of your seat by your legs, tugging it sideways to face him. You squealed as the chair jolted, screeching on the floor, tugging you closer as he leaned in. “Sei incantevole.”
“Are you charming me in Italian?” You smirk, a boyish smile on his face as he lounged back in his seat. “What are you doing here, anyway? Theo said none of you were flying in this year! I thought you couldn't make it.”
“I couldn't,” He sighed, shrugging, “But, then I heard that you would be here, without a date, and I knew I just had to make it. So, here I am, la mia bella donna. You think a short flight from Italy would stop me rushing over here to you?”
Your giggle was against your control. Even if he was more like family than a romantic interest, the way his accent twisted around coyly spoken words, was enough to bring a blush to even the most unreceptive woman’s face. “Cut it out, you flirt.”
“You’ll save me a dance later, right?”
“We’ll see.” He rose his brow, and you lifted your glass, taking a sip of bubbly to hide your smile, leaving him hanging. “Depends on how much more of your cheesy flirting I can endure.”
“You mean my wonderful Italian charm?” He teased, pinching one of your cheeks, and deepening the flush he had already created. “Don’t think I don’t see the way I make you blush.
You could only scoff, mouth dry as you tried to think of a retort, and you didn’t miss Theo muttering in Italian behind you, curse words you’d picked up on tumbling from his mouth. 
“Perhaps this can convince you,” Dario reaches for his inner pocket, producing a small, slim box. An excited squeak breaks from you as he hands it over, your fingers brushing the elegant leather, an Italian name embossed across the front. “Open it later, alright?”
You could only nod, admiring it happily, before slipping the box safely inside of your clutch. He took your hand, kissing your knuckles as he stood. A final wink as he offered you hid charming goodbyes, and a farewell to the rest of the table, before returning his borrowed chair to where he had taken it from. 
You watched as your friend left, disappearing into the crowd, no doubt to mingle and socialise as he had always been so good at, before you swung back around in your chair. 
“He taught you everything you know, huh, Nott?”
Theo only shrugged, a cheeky grin on his face. “What can I say, tesoro? We Nott men just have charm. We’ll woo your panties right off.” He winked, the cockiness not lasting long as Draco swung at him, a fist landing roughly on his arm as the Malfoy heir scowled, glaring at his best friend. 
“Cut it out.” He growled the words through gritted teeth, and your hand shot up, rubbing at your lip to hide your grin as Draco made no effort to hide his own emotions. Theo only laughed, rubbing at the patch on his arm he’d taken the hit.
Dessert was served, a beautiful display of ice cream and winter berries that almost looked too good to eat. The key word being almost. You hadn't been able to resist, however, and the first small groan you’d let out as the sugar hit your tongue had Draco’s gaze snapping straight to you. I did not leave, once, after. 
Instead, he watched, through a dark gaze, every curl of your lips around the spoon, every swipe of your tongue to catch the juice of burst berries. If you’d put on a little extra show, just for him, nobody else had to know. 
It was like he was staring right into your soul, so intense, even after the meal was long since finished. Finally, you indulged him once again, turning to look at him and raising a brow. “Yes, Draco?”
“You look beautiful tonight, I am simply admiring.” He let his gaze move across you slowly, making his admiration apparent, and his gaze lingered a fraction of a second longer on your neck. He stared at you with open adoration, the kind of look that told you exactly how he felt, even if he was fighting it, but he was close to breaking. He was close to losing this game he didn’t know he was playing. Then, his gaze flickered over your shoulder, sweet observation morphing. His brows drew together, his open hand slamming down on the table hard enough to make the glass rattle. “Oh, fucking hell…”
Mattheo erupted with sudden laughter, loud and brash, and there was a tap on your shoulder before you could even ask him what had him in such hysterics. A young man you did not know, perhaps a few years younger than you, and glanced around the table to see which of your friends had put this one together. Each seemed to have caught on in their own time, and had a hand in adding to the fun, to watch Draco suffer more, but none of them were laying any claim to this one. 
“I’ve been watching you all evening, and you are beautiful.” He smiled, stuttering over his words slightly, and Draco made no shy show of his disdain, rolling his eyes and making a disapproving sound. “I was wondering if you might grant me the pleasure of a dance?”
“She would dance with you,” Enzo interrupted, before you could speak at all, leaning forward toward the edge of your chair from his own, and you could have kissed him in gratitude for saving you. “But, she promised me her first dance. Isn’t that right, love? And I think now is the perfect time. Let’s go.”
Offering you his hand, you took it, letting him sweep you away without a second’s delay, navigating you both to the dance floor and twirling you expertly into his arms. One hand clasped your own, the other sitting at a respectable place on your waist, your own on his shoulder, and he fell into the well-rehearsed steps of a classical ballroom dance he’d been doing since he could walk. 
You let out a shaky sigh, relief flooding your veins as you looked back to your seat, noticing that the boy had taken Enzo’s rejection well and disappeared, not hanging around and waiting for your return. 
“You’re killing him slowly, like a predator playing with its prey,” Enzo smirked, neither of you needing to clarify who you were talking about, as he brought up his cousin. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” He chuckled, spinning you out before pulling you back in, sharp actions that made you dizzy with their accuracy, and you grinned as he brought you tumbling right back into his arms, perfectly. If he’d been trying to win you over, his dancing alone would’ve had you swooning. “You just show up to a fancy event like this, dripping in diamonds and pearls and looking like a million bucks, supposedly single. You mean to tell me you didn’t know that all these rich London boys wouldn't descend on you like vultures?”
“Not my fault I’m single and hot, Enz.”
He just laughed, dipping you a little. “We do struggle, don’t we.” You wove between people, a happy silence falling between you both once again as he guided you over the floor, back and forth, “Are you, though? Single, I mean.”
“That is up to your cousin.”
“Touché.”
You continued to move, until your feet were sore from all the twirling, clinging to Enzo in fits of giggles as he spun and twirled and dipped you more, hands on your waist as he lifted you through the air, making a show of his dancing. 
He may have seemed altruistic in his gestures, sweeping in to save you and Draco from your dance with the boy, but he was using you too. Enzo was taking every opportunity to show off his moves to every lady around the room watching, a flirty smile on his face between conversations and he glanced around, and you wouldn't be surprised if he received more offers than Theo or Dario by the end of the night. 
As the third song came to an end, and the music fell for just a second, you panted slightly, arm around his neck now, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and a bright smile. “Can we take a break?”
“Tired, already? You only gave me three so far.” He smirked at the way your jaw dropped, your face going hot and you knew your cheeks were red. You untangled yourself from his body, barely making it a step away from his laughter before he wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. “Oh, c’mon. I thought the aim was to flirt and make him mad?”
“He’s not even here to listen!”
“I’m practising,” Enzo murmured, steering you towards the bar, and leaning on the wood as he flagged down the bartender. You were quickly served, by a woman who fawned over Enzo as she passed by, and you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to snap his gaze away from her retreating form. “So, how long are you going to make him—”
A tap on Enzo’s shoulder cut him off, and he turned to look, straightening up instantly from his slumped position. As soon as he moved so you could see, your relaxation melted away too, as you found yourself face to face with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. 
“Lorenzo, I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you all evening. I want to ask you about your schoolwork.” The impressively formal and deep voice of Lucius Malfoy settled over your skin like fresh snow, cold but smooth, and you shuddered. 
Narcissa only chuckled lightly at her husband’s words, her eyes on you. “You’ve been busy, though. Who is your lovely lady?”
“Uncle Lucius, Aunt Cissa. This is my friend, (Y/n).”
It wasn’t exactly the circumstances you’d wanted to meet them under, but you smiled nonetheless, nerves running wild as you offered your hand to them both, shaking politely just as your parents had taught you. 
“Ah, (Y/n). Yes. I make a point of knowing all of Draco’s school friends, but I’m in business with your father, aren’t I?” Something like a small kernel of sweetness was buried in that statement, his interest in his son’s life, even if he tried to hide it behind formalities, but it wasn’t your place to comment. 
“Yes, sir. That is correct.”
“They’re very proud of your schoolwork. They were telling me about your latest project. You synthesised a new potion to grow murkweed faster, is that true?”
You were surprised he knew so much, your small project submitted for Herbology was the last thing you’d expected Lucius Malfoy to know of, or take an interest in, and your mouth felt like sandpaper as you tried to form words. “Yes. Yes, sir. That’s right.”
“Interesting.” That calculating gaze scanned over you, analysing you from head to toe, like he could see right through you with a single glance. “That is impressive, for someone of your age. I’d be open to learning more. Are you considering making a future out of your alchemy talents? I have connections that I could contact for you.” 
You were speechless, your stomach going wild with butterflies born of both excitement and anxiety. He smirked, a look that would set you on edge if you weren’t sure deep down that this was in your interests, not against them. 
“Perhaps we can discuss it more soon, when we next see you. With Enzo?”
Enzo’s arm around your waist shifted, a reassuring weight that you were sure had been your only grounding presence for this surreal conversation. He patted your hip encouragingly. “Oh, no, we aren’t…” 
Motioning between you both, Lucius’ brows furrowed, and Narcissa tried to hide her sigh.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Aunt Cissa. (Y/n) isn’t mine, though it is wonderful that you approve.” Before either could question him, or expand on their confusion, Enzo gave your waist a final rub, before removing his touch from you entirely, and stepping towards his family. “Shall we go and discuss schoolwork then, Uncle? You have questions, and I have answers. I hope the ones you want.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/l/n).” Lucius politely offered you his hand again, shaking it firmly, and that was about as friendly a dismissal as you’d ever get from him, you’d heard. This was only supported by the surprised look on Narcissa’s face, and the beam Enz gave you as he guided his uncle away. 
“I hope to see you again soon, (Y/n). You look wonderful this evening, thank you for coming.” Narcissa murmured, before following her husband and nephew, glancing back at you only once over her shoulder. She knew. The woman was far more cunning than she let on, the true embodiment of a sneaky Slytherin, observing quietly and taking everything in. Her eyes glinted. She knew you knew she knew, too.
Your heart was pounding, cheeks warm as you lifted your fingers to them cautiously. The disappointed waitress placed down two drinks before you, Enzo long gone without his, but you smiled at her with appreciation, fingers shaking a little as you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. 
You’d spoken to Draco’s parents. 
They’d liked you. Lucius had offered to put you onto the career path, and Narcissa had complimented your dress. A soft laugh of disbelief slipped free, your eyes sliding closed for just a second as you revelled in the moment. 
It hasn’t been what you’d set out for tonight, but it was far more than what you’d hoped for. Opening your eyes again, to head back to the table and find Draco, you were met by the sight of a stranger leaning before you on the bar, grinning down at you in amusement. “Hello.”
“Hi.” You gave a terse smile, and a single nod. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“I didn’t even get to ask you to dance yet. Saw you out on the floor with the Berkshire boy, earlier, and I thought—”
“I’m dancing with her next, mate. Piss off.” 
Draco rarely sounded that mad, a chill went down your spine as you felt an arm slide around your waist, tugging you back into his chest. “Dray…”
The stranger only scoffed, glaring at Draco as he wandered away, and your hand reached for his forearm on your body. He snatched it away too soon, however, tugging on your hip to turn you around. His jaw was clenched tight, eyes more frozen than the coldest glacier. “Dance with me.”
Not a request, and he didn’t wait for an answer, before plucking your drink from your hand and slamming it down onto the bar, guiding you back to the swaying bodies. Standing before you, you offered him your hand, your hand sitting lightly on his shoulder. He didn’t take the respectable route, instead, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, sweeping you close to his body, and beginning to move you both in simple steps. 
It was several minutes before he relaxed, your arm sliding further around his neck in a more intimate hold, bringing the two of you much closer, swaying slowly. The tension in his body gave way with every step, and with a resigned sigh, he finally spoke, “You met my parents.”
“I did. They were lovely. Very curious about Enzo and I’s relationship.”
His hand clenched on your waist, and you tipped your head at him as his piercing gaze drilled into you. One more move…
“Oh, don’t be so mad, Dray. We’re only shagging, after all. You’ll find a new girl if I get swept away by someone else.”
His eyes narrowed, jaw clenching, and a fire burned in those silver eyes now, melting the ice away with rage. Checkmate.
“You win, alright? I’m not playing this stupid game any longer.” He took a deep breath, and another, fingers twitching on your back as jealousy bubbled under the surface. “For fucks sake, how many pieces of jewellery from other guys are you wearing? Who bought you those earrings, that necklace? I should be the only one buying you gifts. I should be the one spoiling you. You want the Malfoy family ring? I’ll go yank it off my mother’s engagement ring from her finger right now, just take all this off.”
He studied you for a second, confusion growing at the smirk that grew on your lips. Victory was yours, and you leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. Letting the hand from his neck smooth down his chest, his gaze stayed locked on the jewels around your neck, glaring angrily. “No.”
“No?”
“No. It’s pretty. I’m going to keep wearing it all, let it remind you what you have. Next time you piss me off, forget a date, or use the last of my shampoo, I’m going to put it all back on so you can remember how many guys would jump at the chance.” His nostrils flared, but he stayed silent, wisely knowing when to keep his mouth shut. “I don’t want your family ring, Malfoy. Not yet. I just want a proper title, and the respect that comes with it. I’m not your booty call, or your side piece. You don’t want to play games anymore? Then don’t.”
“You already won.” He whispers, his head dropping down to let his forehead rest on your own. “You know how much you mean to me.”
“Yes, I do. But I want the whole world to know it, too, Dray.”
He didn’t respond verbally. Instead, he twisted his head, enough to press his mouth to your own, silencing any more arguments between you both as he kissed you. His lips claimed yours, a tender and loving kiss, showing everyone just how much you meant to him. There was no mistaking the emotions within it, not as his arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as the pretence of dancing was given up, your hand on the back of his head, fingers in his hair, meeting every push and pull.
When he pulled away, your smile took over, bashful now under his openly adoring gaze, and he stole several more pecks from your lips. A happy sound escaped you as he tugged you in, tucking his face into your neck, and swaying you both to the music. 
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You have, but I’d be open to hearing it again.” Your hand smoothed over his hair, and he chuckled against your skin, leaving a kiss on the crook of your neck before raising to meet your eye. 
“You are breathtaking, darling. I’m in awe. This colour is my favourite, you know.”
“Why do you think I wore it?”
His fingers trailed down your spine, eyes sparkling even more at that revelation. “How about we get out of here? We’ll make our goodbyes to my parents, and head out.”
“Our goodbyes?” You repeated as he took your hand, lacing your fingers together. 
“Yes. From their son and his girlfriend. I think you deserve a proper introduction, after all.”
Tugging you across the floor, he gave you no time to prepare, and certainly, none to disagree, as you smoothed your hair and attempted to control the blush he’d brought to your cheeks. Through the crowds he wove, until he was pulling to a stop just shy of his parents, and Enzo looked as though he could have cried with relief when Lucius’ intense focus was taken away from him. The boy quickly slipped away as both of Draco’s parents turned to face you. 
“Miss (Y/l/n), when we said we hoped to see you again soon, I didn’t realise you’d take it quite this literally.” He murmured, voice as low and calm as always, and your lips parted, a different kind of heat flooding your features. 
“Oh, behave now, Lucius,” Narcissa grinned, her gaze dropping to your clasped hands, before she reached up to her son’s face, pinching his cheek with a smile. “Draco, darling, I’ve hardly seen you all evening.”
“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you Mother, but we’ll be leaving early.” She only gave him a knowing look, ignoring Lucius’ displeased huff, as if she wasn’t surprised at all. 
“‘We’?”
“My girlfriend and I.” He said, proud and strong, before tugging you forward a little more to stand in front of him. His hand left your own, circling your waist instead, and she offered him a smile at the news. 
“I see.” She smiled, patting her son’s cheek affectionately, before turning that knowing gaze on you. “Now Lorenzo’s evasiveness whenever I asked him about you makes sense.”
“You asked about me?” Your words were a rushed squeak, which only seemed to amuse Narcissa more. 
“Of course, dear. I wanted to know more about you. I’d ask you to sit and chat with me for a spell, but I believe my son might combust if I did.”
“Mother!” He gasped, and Lucius only tutted. 
“Draco.” His father growled softly, shaking his head, and the red on his son’s cheeks only grew.
“You both may go, for now. But I hope you’ll visit me soon, and we might talk?”
“You mean… just us?” Your words tapered off to a near whisper, and Lucius smirked to himself as Draco rolled his eyes. 
“Yes, dear. We’ll have tea.”
You could only nod, bidding your final farewells to them both in a state of awe, before Draco was hurrying you along. Tight hands gripping your waist, lips on your neck as he loved you through the crowds, swiping up your bag and giving you barely a moment to say goodbye to your friends before sweeping you away again. It was only due to the snow falling outside, you were sure, that he allowed you to stop long enough to get your coats. 
Helping you, he lifted the garment onto you from behind, kissing your cheek as he reached around your body to fasten it. His elegant coat was already on, and leather gloves were on his hands as he offered you one. Lacing your fingers through his own, he smiled, tugging you out into the freezing night, and ushering you around the side of the Manor, away from the stream of cars lined up for guests as they left. 
“Where are we going, Dray?” 
“To one of the gardens near the path.” He never turned back, leading you carefully around patches of ice and slippery snow as you moved, the light from the house fading. It was almost pitch black, before he mumbled a small spell, and the garden lights glowed to light, glittering on the fresh blanket of ice. 
Sitting on the grass was an old-fashioned sleigh, enchanted to keep dry, even in the snow, and two reindeer sat happily in the snow snuffling at the grass and scattered food. 
The landscape stretched out far before you both, trees and grass and walls all covered in snow like something from a Christmas card, and the sigh that left your lips clouded in the air before your face. 
“Oh, Draco…” Taking a few steps closer, snow-tipped over the tops of your heels as you stepped off the pathway onto the grass, chilling your feet for only a second, before Draco was following. Scooping you up into his arms, you kicked the ice from your feet with a giggle, your arms looping around his neck. “What’s all this?”
“This is your Christmas present. I didn’t realise that was the kind of ice you wanted instead.” He muttered, eyes flicking down to your neck, as he carried you carefully through the snow and towards the ornate sleigh. As you leaned in to kiss his cheek, he smiled shyly, avoiding your gaze as he became embarrassed, “I wanted to do something romantic for you. We can take the sleigh back to the town, get a cab, and take the jet anywhere you want to go. Pansy already packed a bag for you.”
He placed you down on the edge of the sleigh, letting you shuffle across onto the warmed leather. With another kiss to your lips, he scoffed at your smile. 
“Merry Christmas, my wicked little girlfriend.”
“I can’t believe you arranged all this.” You were practically bouncing in your seat, watching as Draco nervously tugged on the reins, prompting the lazy animals to stand back up, before settling into the sleigh himself. Like they knew just what to do, they took off in a slow trot, tugging the pair of you along through the snow. 
“Maybe if you’d have waited, instead of making me fight for my life tonight, you’d have been surprised.”
His arm was splayed along the back of the seat, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. Curling his arm around you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shaking his head and burying his nose in your hair. “If I didn’t make you fight for me, Dray, you’d probably have introduced me to your mother as your study partner. I gave you a little push, that’s all.”
“Is that so?” He muttered, guiding your face up so he could peck your lips. “Who do you think helped me arrange all of this for my ‘lovely lady friend’, hm? I’ve been writing to my mother about having an interest in someone for months now. You underestimate me.”
“You never gave me any other indication!” 
“Oh, please. You walk me like a damn dog, you knew how I felt.” His mouth closed over your own, stealing a kiss, and you couldn't help but smile into it. “I think tonight just proves it.”
The sleigh trotted on as Draco kissed you in the back, beyond thought and reason, your hands tucked into his coat for warmth as he kept you cuddled in close to his side. 
Minutes melted away, the two of you lost in your own world as you jostled and trotted through the fields, back toward the town. Whatever he had planned, it had been in motion for days, and the thought only made you fall a little more in love with him. Perhaps you had underestimated him, but none of it mattered now, not when he was kissing you like you were his only way to breathe, and you had him in your arms, properly, at last.
“So, Pansy knew about your little plan?”
“Yes. I told her days ago.” 
“Hm…” You loved her, and it was perhaps her knowledge of Draco’s actions that made this all the funnier. “So, she knew about your plan, and mine. And still, she made sure to introduce guys to me all night. She played us both just for her own amusement.”
As you thought of her, your fingers lifted to your neck, sitting on the delicate jewellery there, and Draco huffed. Looping his finger underneath it, he tugged lightly. “Can you take this off now, please?”
“Why would I do that?” His pout deepened, glaring at the offending item, and you gave in with an airy laugh. “Pansy, Daph and Tori picked it out personally.”
“What?” His head snapped up, pout gone as his jaw dropped, and he was not laughing like you were. “You let me believe another guy decked you out in diamonds all night! What about the matching earrings?”
“Blaise.”
“The bracelet?”
“Theo and the Notts.” 
At that mention, his eyes narrowed again, searching for your clutch and finding it resting in your lap. “But Theo’s cousin Mario gave you a separate gift.”
“Dario.” You corrected, and he mimicked it childishly, scoffing afterwards. “Well, that part was real. He truly was flirting, and I have no idea what it is, I haven’t opened it yet.”
“Give it to me.” He reached for your bag, a second too slow as you swiped it away from him with a gasp. He didn’t give up, still trying to snatch it as he leaned over you, pressing you back into the seat through fits of laughter, the two of you fighting over the bag until it was pressed to your chest, your eyes wide as you stared up at him, shaking your head. “Give it to me! I’m chucking it, hand it over!”
“No, it’s mine!” He slumped back into his seat, panting for breath and smoothing his hair back down. He was pointedly staring away in the opposite direction, and when you leaned in closer with a chuckle, he leaned away. Grabbing his shoulder, you planted yourself firmly in his lap, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m keeping it, but your present is better, I just know it. Whatever it is, could never beat this.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, Dray.” 
He gave in, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you in closer to his body and pressing a happy kiss to your cheek. “Fine, but I’m buying you a new necklace when we get off the damn plane. I don’t care who bought that one.”
8K notes · View notes
fluffykitteninabox · 1 year
Text
honey goes with literally everything
0 notes
dreamescapeswriting · 7 months
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || You Were Clingy And Suddenly You Aren't
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRING: Skz x GN!Reader 
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
You hadn’t even meant to overhear the conversation the boys were having but you had and ever since you’d distanced yourself from Chan, giving him space, major space even. You'd stopped showing up at the dorms after work and you stopped going to spend time with Chan at the studios on your days off. You didn't want to be around him if you were too clingy, or overbearing to him and you panicked.
"You're ignoring me and I hate it," Chan said bluntly as he sat across from you at the cafe you would frequent. You forced yourself to look up from the book you'd been trying to read and frowned seeing him standing there.
"What?" You were sure he was supposed to be in practice right now and yet here he was panting and staring at you.
"You're ignoring me, did I do something wrong?" His voice broke as he pulled out a chair and sat down across from you,
"What? No...N-No, I'm just giving you space." You smiled weakly, shutting your book and looking up at him. You didn't want to get into this in the middle of a cafe but you also didn't want to go back to the dorms with him and risk another comment from Seungmin.
"When have I ever said I needed space?" He chuckled at you but you didn't find any of this funny, you were a little stressed that he didn't see you the same way you saw yourself right now.
"You haven't but I realise how overbearing I am right now-"
"What are you talking about?" His hand clasped yours in his grip and he ran his thumb over your skin, your heart picking up as you let out a small whimper. 
"Seungmin said he never sees us apart and I realised how tiring that must be for you." You shrugged, trying to take your hand back but Chan gripped you a little tighter,
"Yn." He whispered, his voice laced with sympathy,
"I'm sorry if I'm too much sometimes, I just...I like spending time with you." Tears were beginning to roll down your cheeks even though you hadn't meant to cry, everything you'd been bottling up finally overflowing,
"And I love spending time with you, it doesn't matter what Seungmin said." He mumbled, moving to the spot right next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder.
"Let's go home, okay? I missed you and I have some cuddling with you to catch up on." He smirked a little making your whole body heat as you nodded at him, quickly kissing his cheek.
MINHO:
After you'd heard Chan say to Minho that you were "Around each other all the time." you'd stopped going around as much. It wasn't anything personal but you didn't want to be too much for Minho, or the others. You worried they'd find you annoying if you were too clingy with your boyfriend and so you took some steps back.
"Yn? I know you can hear me...Just talk to me, did I do something wrong?" Minho pleaded through the door of your apartment. You hadn't responded to him all day and he was beginning to worry you were in a fight without him realising you were in a fight.
"I'm going to use the emergency key if you don't answer." He warned before you sighed, unlocking the door and stepping to the side to let him in.
"Are you sick? Did we have a fight and I didn't notice?" He laughed weakly as he made his way to your sofa and sat down, a clear sign that he wasn't going to go anywhere any time soon so you shut the door and sat across from him.
"No."
"So then what's going on?" He hated overthinking and that was all he'd managed to do ever since you'd disappeared on him and gone quiet.
"I'm giving you some space." You offered as if he'd asked for it but he frowned, shaking his head,
"Space? Why?"
"I feel like I'm overbearing sometimes and I worry I'm around you too much." You'd been overthinking it ever since you'd heard Chan and now you worried if you came on too strong with Minho he'd leave.
"Baby, I enjoy spending time with you." He reached out to touch you but you shifted away from him.
"I know you say that but I feel like I'm too clingy and I should just give you some space."
"But I don't need that, I need my beautiful and amazing partner by my side, always." He whispered as you sniffled a little, tears running down your cheeks as you stared back at him,
"I just don't want you to think I'm smothering you." As soon as he heard you say that he dragged you onto the sofa beside him,
"You could never smother me, if there was ever an issue we would talk about it, don't pull away from me." He begged, his hand running over your cheek as he rid your face of the tears,
"Okay..."
"Trust me, baby, we're good." He tells you as he wraps you in the tightest hug he could manage, your body relaxing a little as you finally felt close to him again.
CHANGBIN:
"I never see you two without each other." The words had seemed so casual coming from Minho's lips and yet you suddenly felt as though your whole world was coming apart around you. 
"Yn? You going home?" Changbin frowned as he walked into his bedroom to find you packing up your things. After you'd heard Minho you knew it was time to give Changbin some space.
"I thought you were staying here tonight."
"Yeah, I just, I thought I should give you some space." You shrugged it off, doing your best to stay as calm and rational as possible but your mind kept going back to your past relationships. Whenever you got too clingy things would go sideways and they'd split with you and you didn't want that with Changbin.
"Space?" He frowned and stood beside you,
"I've been clingy lately and I don't want to smother you, so I'm going to head home." You folded up your last bit of clothing but Changbin was just as confused as he was when he started this conversation
"Smother me? Yn, you could never smother me...Where is this coming from?" He put his hand on your shoulder trying to make you look at him but you didn't, you knew if you did you'd give up and stay all night.
"I just worry that I'm always around and it's probably too much for you. I don't want to be that kind of a partner to you."
"Yn." He stilled your hands on your bag, 
"I love having you around, you make everything better and you're not too much." He hated that you could ever think such a thing when he thought the entire world of you,
"But in my last relationships, things were too much and I don't want to end up pushing you away." You whispered, your voice cracking a little as Changbin held your face in his hands.
"I get that, but we're different. Okay? I don't want you to distance yourself from me because of some bonehead in the past." You stare at him a little unsure of what to do.
"We can spend the night here and then you'll see how much I need you around." He whispered as you nodded a little, your cheeks heating as he kissed you softly.
HYUNJIN:
Hyunjin knew that there was something wrong the moment you'd stopped replying to him over text and then when you cancelled most of your plans he knew he had to do something to make you feel better.
"What...What are you doing here?" You questioned your boyfriend as you walked into your apartment to see him cooking for you.
"You're home early, damn, this was supposed to be done for when you came in." He brushed his hands down his apron and hugged you tightly, you hugged him back but frowned at him.
"What was?"
"Dinner." He gestured to the oven behind him which was filled with food.
"I noticed you were being distant and I wanted to come over and do something nice for you." He smiled warmly but you just felt guilty that he'd come all the way out here to do this for you.
"Is everything okay?" He asked as he went back to stirring whatever it was on the hob but you looked down at the floor. Everything was fine until Changbin mentioned that he never saw you apart from one another and you realised you needed to give Hyunjin space.
"I'm just worried I might be too clingy...or overbearing," You shrugged, scratching the back of your neck as Hyunjin froze.
"Clingy and overbearing? What would give you that thought?" He stopped what he was doing, moving the food off the heat.
"I love our time together," He added, worry started to seep into him as he thought about it.
"I know you say that now but I don't want you to feel suffocated or that I'm always around." Within seconds Hyunjin was in front of you and frowning,
"Yn, being with you is the best part of my day, you're never suffocating to me." He smiled a little.
"But we're never apart and I don't want you to get sick of me." You sniffled a little but Hyunjin kissed you softly, wrapping his arms around you.
"If there is one thing in this world I can promise you, it's that I would neve ever get sick of you." He explained, you hesitated for a second a little unsure of what to do but you smiled weakly.
"You're sure?" You quizzed before he nodded, kissing your cheek.
"We can talk more over dinner, but I promise you I don't want or need you to put space between us," He told you, kissing the top of your head and going back to cooking.
JISUNG:
Ever since last week, Jisung had noticed something changing with you and he was beginning to worry he'd done something that might have upset you. Even now as you walked together on the beach he could sense something was wrong. You weren't holding his hand or onto his arm like you usually would and you weren't asking him to go on rides with you or to play some fair games when you would pass by them.
"Is everything okay? With us...I mean." He usually wasn't upfront with his feelings but ever since the two of you had started seeing one another he'd been getting better at it,
"Yeah." It was obviously a lie and Jisung frowned at you, stopping still and making you look at him.
"What's going on?" He stared at you and you knew he wasn't going to stop asking unless you told him the truth which worried you more than you cared to admit.
"Do you think we're around each other too much?" You finally asked making Jisung's eyebrows knit together in a frown.
"No? Why?" He shook his head at you but you looked away from him,
"It was something Felix mentioned...T-That we're never apart and I worry that-"
"You're clingy?" He finished for you and you nodded a little before he sighed and kissed your cheek.
"You're not clingy at all, you know I love having you around right?" He stares at you and smiles a little.
"You make me feel less anxious, you make me feel like a whole other person when I'm with you and I never want space." He told you simply, bringing you into his arms and smiling as you cuddled into him.
"You promise you'll come to me in the future if you start to worry again?" He quizzed and you nodded your head, kissing him quickly as you continued your walk on the beach front.
FELIX:
As you rounded the corner of your apartment building you frowned finding Felix standing there knocking on your door.
"Felix? I thought we cancelled tonight." You said as you walked closer to him but something was off, you could see he'd been crying and it instantly made you worry.
"Are we okay? Are you breaking up with me?" He sniffled, you quickly ushered him into your apartment not wanting to get any unwanted attention from your neighbours and you shut the door.
"Breaking up? What? No." You mumbled shaking your head at him.
"You've been so distant and then J-Jisung said it meant you were going to break things off with me."
"Jisung is wrong." You grumbled, you and Jisung weren't exactly seeing eye to eye after you'd heard him mention to Felix how clingy you were.
"So then what's going on? Did I do something to upset you?"
"No, Lix." You sighed sitting next to him on the sofa.
"I overheard Jisung talk about me and he mentioned how we're never apart and I just...I thought I was giving you space." You shrugged it off and Felix sighed, clearly frustrated.
"I'm sorry you heard him say that but....for the record, I assure you that I don't find you clingy...I love you so much," He smiled warmly at you but you looked down at the floor.
"I don't want to be a burden," Your head was slowly tilted up to look at Felix and you smiled weakly.
"You're not a burden, Yn. I'll talk to Jisung and clear this up but don't let his dumb words affect us," He told you sternly before kissing you softly and standing up.
"Where are you going?" You frowned as he stretched a little,
"To talk to Jisung."
"No. Stay and cuddle I missed you," You laughed, dragging him back to you, he could talk to Jisung another time, right now it was just you and him.
SEUNGMIN:
Seungmin hadn't always been the best at expressing himself when it came to your relationship but he always felt as though he'd done a pretty good job up until now. Now he had no idea what was wrong and if he'd done something to upset you since you'd just distanced yourself from him. 
"Seungmin? What are you doing here?" You whispered as you turned around to find your boyfriend in your office, somewhere he shouldn't have been if he didn't want to get noticed. You quickly shut and locked your door, pulling the blinds down.
"I had to see you, we've barely spent any time together."
"I've been busy." You lied looking down at the floor but Seungmin wasn't going to take some bullshit for an excuse he needed to know what was going on.
"You've been acting distant for weeks, what's going on?"
"I just figured you needed some space." Seungmin waited for you to say something else but when you didn't he frowned even more at you.
"Why would I need space?" He stared down at you as you sat at your desk,
"I've been a little annoying and clingy lately and I didn't want to keep bothering you."
"When have you ever bothered me? Where would you even get such an idea?" He sat across from you and narrowed his eyes a little, he was like a human lie detector and you knew you wouldn't be able to hide anything from him.
"Jeongin mentioned how we're never apart and I just- I thought you might get annoyed with me." You explained before Seungmin stared at you as though you had a second head.
"Baby, you're not annoying, you never could be...ever, I don't ever want you to feel like that." He moved quickly to kneel by your side and he took your hands in his, kissing them softly.
"I love you...Okay? You're important to me and I want us to be able to talk if things ever bother us," He offered and you nodded, quickly kissing him and smiling to yourself.
"I promise to come to you in the future," He nodded and kisses you again, deeper this time,
JEONGIN:
It was a quiet night in until Jeongin showed up at your door, usually Friday nights were reserved for the two of you to spend time together but you'd been acting differently lately and it was starting to worry him. Especially tonight when you cancelled on him seemingly to do nothing at home.
"You're acting weird and I'm worried," Jeongin explained as he stood in your apartment, you refused to look at him instead choosing to stare at the TV with a drama playing on it.
"Yn, talk to me." He begged as he sat across from you on the coffee table. Sighin you looked at him, you hesitated in telling him everything but you knew he'd never leave if you didn't spill your guts to him.
"I'm sorry if I've been distant...I just-" You sighed, you didn't even know where to start with any of this.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. I just want to understand what's going on. Is something or someone bothering you?" He stared at you with concern written all over his face and you sighed,.
"Lately I've just been feeling like maybe I'm too clingy and then I heard Minho mention that we're never apart and it just...it drove home what I was already feeling," You mumbled, playing with the sleeves of your shirt as jeongin stared at you.
"Clingy? You're not clingy at all, nowhere near." He mumbled, quickly moving to sit beside you.
"I don't know, I heard what Minho said and then at work, I heard people talking about their relationships and I just...I thought I was being a burden." Jeongin reached out and took your hands in his.
"You're not and never will be a burden to me, Yn. I love you and want you in my life."
"I don't want to ever smoother you or make you feel trapped with me." You added and he smiled at you,.
"Okay, but communication is key. Shutting me out and putting space between us won't let us fix what's going on. We need to talk it through together." He squeezed your hands a little and you nodded, you knew he was right deep down and you kissed him softly.
"I promise to talk if anything bothers me again," You whispered before the two of you cuddled together on the sofa for a while.
Tumblr media
@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp @xakx @sleepb @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @parkjennykim
4K notes · View notes
bigwishes · 2 months
Text
Embarrassed?
Tumblr media
Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.
"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"
He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.
But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.
He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.
---
The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.
"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.
Tumblr media
His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.
He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.
Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.
"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"
Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.
Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.
"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"
He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.
Tumblr media
As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.
He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.
He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.
Cutcshhhhhhh!
the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.
"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.
Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...
but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.
He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.
Tumblr media
"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way
Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.
"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"
Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.
The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.
The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.
He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.
He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....
A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him
Tumblr media
Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.
He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.
Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....
Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.
"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"
Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.
"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"
the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them
The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.
Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.
"god...I'm such..."
His dick instantly got hard again.
"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"
Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.
"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"
Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...
Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Logan x Reader pt.1
Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine
Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it
Part 2 >> Masterlist
Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.
"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.
Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"
"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."
~~
Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.
Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.
Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?
Then he saw you.
You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.
"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.
You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.
“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.
“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.
“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.
You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”
He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”
“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”
What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”
“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”
“Of course I do.”
“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”
“My world?”
You nod again.
“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”
“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”
Logan chuckled at that.
“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”
He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”
“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”
“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”
“Oh, you're friends as well?”
“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”
“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”
Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.
You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.
“Angel.” You whispered darkly.
“Warren?”
“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”
“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”
You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.
“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.
Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.
“Here.”
You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.
You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.
“Why have you folded it like that?”
Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”
“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”
He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”
“Why are we leaving?”
“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”
You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”
He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”
It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.
He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.
“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.
“El.” You smiled widely.
She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”
“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”
“That is why I was worried.”
She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.
The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.
“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”
You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”
“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”
“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.
“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”
“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”
“Well, duh-”
“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.
“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.
“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”
“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.
Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”
“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”
“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.
You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”
“Maybe you should let it play out.”
“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”
“All the more reason to."
He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.
"Elektra told you the plan?”
“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”
Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.
Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”
You waved him off. “It's fine.”
“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.
“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”
“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.
“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”
“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.
“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”
“But you are hurt.”
“Logan.”
“Y/N.”
Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.
“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.
“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”
You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”
The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.
“You can't fight.” Logan started.
Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”
“Go on then.” He called your bluff.
You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”
“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.
With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.
Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”
Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?
Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”
Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”
“Well... Maybe I do, too.”
God he was ruined.
You were literally amazing.
How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.
Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.
He loved you, by god, he did.
Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.
Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.
Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.
"Come with me." He begged.
"I'm sure I will." You winked.
"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.
"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.
He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.
He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.
Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.
.
.
Part 2
1K notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 4 months
Note
Okay but shy/bunny reader being used to bestfriend!Rafe ditching her because he’s with some girl, she never points it out and somehow she always lets it go because she’s just a babyy and Rafe starts realising that they don’t hang out as much😭💖
Tumblr media
it was hard seeing rafe go—always was, and always will be.
you tried to convince yourself you were used to it now, but the familiar ache in your chest when he'd say goodbye to you, topper, and kelce and walk away hand in hand with his flavor of the week was getting worse and worse.
before you'd realized you had feelings for rafe—beyond just the affection you gave to your close friends—you hadn't cared at all. you'd even encouraged it, same way you did with top and kelce, offering advice and recommending which flowers to bring, what places to bring them.
not that rafe ever really needed your help. it seems since the day he'd become your best friend, there was a line of girls hanging behind the two of you, seemingly waiting for their turn. at night, when it felt worse—and somehow it always did feel worse in your bed alone, wondering if rafe's was empty too and knowing that it wasn't—you tried to make yourself feel better.
you're still here, and they're not—that's how you tried. it worked for a little.
the newest girl had been around for a record three weeks, so even your usual bandaid for your shattered heart wasn't helping the wound heal.
so far, he'd skipped two meals, a day at the course, and half of a boat day to spend with her instead of you. you, kelce, and top that is. you'd hoped today was going to be different, walking back to top's jeep after lunch to head to the marina.
"you're not coming?" you call out to rafe, who was walking back in the direction of his own car. kelce and top are too far away to hear—getting into the front already. you were always stuck in the back, and you had never minded when rafe was there to keep you company.
rafe flicks his eyes over you, taking in the new dress you really shouldn't have bought just to see what kind of reaction you could get from him. your bag has your bikini in it and one of his button ups to cover you and he sees it poking out—white seersucker temporarily distracting him.
"rafe?"
"yeah. sorry, no. made plans with-"
"yeah, of course you did." you cut him off, and though even a few weeks ago you couldn't have imagined the vitriol in your voice, it comes out all too easy. "have fun."
you try to walk away but his footsteps follow—and damn his long legs, because he gets infront of you before you can escape.
"what, kid? you mad at me?"
you shouldn't say something. you shouldn't say anything.
"we're going to the boat. you said you were coming. i cut fruit for you."
"i-i'm sorry. top will eat it."
"it's not for him. that's not the point." the words teeter on the edge—wanting so badly to tell him that you miss him. that he never hangs out with you anymore, that he's choosing some girl over you and it stings worse than anything you've felt so far.
you're not sure when it started feeling so different—rafe's always done this. and standing two feet from the jeep, kelce sticking his head out the window to yell at you to get in, you realize you're going to reveal yourself if you don't shut up.
"have fun, rafe. sorry. bye."
you don't give him a chance to respond, but it doesn't take anything else for the gears to click. you're too quiet to ever admit it, too shy to say what you're really thinking, and rafe knows that—he's known it since he met you.
standing there, watching you drive away with kelce and top, he briefly wonders what the last time was he did something just with you. he can't even remember it. it all blurs together—late night runs for ice cream and breakfast while top and kelce were still passed out. the sweet way you smile at him and how your expression changes when he goes to the girl who's waiting for him. he gets in the car and can't decide which direction to turn—towards this girl or towards you.
on the boat, you kick up your feet and open your book, trying to drown out the chatter of kelce and top trying to get out of the marina and focus singularly on the romance in your hands rather than the one in your brain. you drown it out a little too much.
"that the one i got you?" rafe asks from somewhere next to you.
"god-" you exclaim, book slipping from your grip and thudding on the boat. "you scared me." catching your breath, you bend to pick up your book, but rafe beats you to it, picking it up and placing it on your lap.
"sorry."
"what happened to your plans?" rafe shrugs. you wish your heartbeat would slow down. you look down at your lap and rafe looks over you—exposed skin shiny with sunblock, a blue bikini he thinks he's never noticed before, matching nails that suit you.
"already had plans with you, remember?"
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
When you’re sick
Warnings: none, one Monsters Inc. reference I hope won't confuse people
Please let me know which is your favourite!
☆ gender neutral reader
Soobin
You'd tried everything, from warm baths to drinking god-awful concoctions people swore by on the internet. But you were still sick. You'd been holed up in your bedroom for almost a week, leaving poor Soobin to have to sleep on the couch. You missed him, but you couldn't let him catch what you had. The only contact you'd had with him all week was through texting, and the meals he'd leave outside the bedroom door for you.
Of course, you'd been apart longer than this before; being in a successful group, Soobin often went on tour for months at a time. But this almost seemed harder, maybe because you felt miserable physically and just wanted to be held and loved on.
"I just wanted to see you," came his muffled voice, a hint whiny. "I won't come any further than this, I promise."
Sighing, you retreated from hiding. You hadn't seen him with your own eyes for what felt like longer than it actually was. There was no helping how good it felt to look at him now. "I miss you."
His lopsided smile gave you a rush of warmth. "Please get better before I go crazy."
You felt guilty. "I'm sorry. You can go and stay at Taehyun's if you-"
Soobin's mouth quirked, his brow creased. "It's not that. I just want to see you, touch you, have a real conversation. I want to hold you until we fall asleep." You felt the longing for him increase. "You always take care of me when I'm sick, even if you might catch it. Please, let me do the same for you."
His eyes held a helpless look that tugged at your heart as much as his words did. You felt your resolve crack, and it must have shown in your face, Soobin crossing the threshold and shuffling towards the bed. Relief flooded through you as he crawled up next to you and tucked you into his arms. His warmth was everything you'd needed for the past week, and he sighed as you buried your face against his neck. You swear you started melting when you felt his fingers in your hair. This was home.
Yeonjun
You weren't sure how long you'd felt like this. Time seems a blur when most of it is spent in bed, falling in and out of sleep and dreams. It took a monumental effort just to roll from one side to the other, so you couldn't remember the last time you'd eaten or showered. One small mercy was the fact that your ears were blocked, muffling the noise of the world outside the window; birds and neighbours dogs and traffic sounds couldn't disturb your sporadic naps.
Suddenly there was soft skin against your cheek, a warm palm and fingertips that you leaned into without question, and a deep sound somewhere close by. It took a few minutes for your mind to kick in and realise that these things were real and not a dream. Opening your eyes to the dim room, you found a face smiling down at you; your Yeonjun. But something was strange about this. Hadn't you been alone? Wasn't there a reason you were in the middle of the big bed, his pillow trapped between your arms?
"Junie?" You whinced as your voice seemed to reverberate through your head, your throat burning as the word tore through it.
"Hey, baby," he replied softly. You felt his fingers swipe the hair off your forehead before his nose was touching your own.
With what little strength you had, you tried to sink further into the mattress to put space between the two of you. "Jun, I'm- I'm sick."
"It's okay." You felt his arm slither under your back and peel you off the bed, pulling you into him. "I'm here."
You sniffled, swallowing against the dryness of your mouth that comes with not being able to breathe through your nose for so long. "Why?"
"'Why?'" He laughed. "Because the tour ended and I came home to you. Aren't you happy to see me?"
You nodded weakly against his chest. "Junie... I'm sick," you said again, half warning and half complaint.
His hand began to rub your back soothingly, and it felt so good to be in his arms again that you sighed heavily, raspily. "I know, babe, I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't..." Words were too hard. Instead, you brought your hand to his chest and tried to push him, rather feebly, away.
A large hand wrapped around your wrist, softly pulling your arm up over his shoulder. "I don't care. I missed you."
Not having it in yourself to argue, you surrendered, letting your body totally relax into his. You had pictured him coming home after tour very differently than this. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to talk about his trip, but you couldn't fight your body. You heard the rumble of his voice again. "What?"
"I'll make you some chicken soup," he repeated. But as he tried to turn to leave the bed you grabbed a handful of his shirt. You heard him chuckle, and his arms were back around you again. "Maybe later, then."
Beomgyu
One minute you were studying, the next you were being woken by your phone blasting the most annoying ringtone Beomgyu had set for himself. You scrambled to snatch the phone off the desk where you had evidently fallen asleep. "Gyu? What time is it?"
"Half past the time you were supposed to meet me at the cinema."
Your heart sank. How long had you been asleep? "Oh no. I'm so sorry, I fell asleep."
"Why do you sound like you're talking into a tin can?"
Now that you were more awake, you noticed the feeling in your throat, the pounding of your head. Sure, falling asleep with your head on a desk wasn't the best, but you'd never known it to make your head feel like this. Come to think of it, you couldn't breathe through your nose very well either. You thought back and vaguely remembered your roommate having had a cough before she left for the weekend. There was a knock at the door.
"Hang on," you said into the phone, crossing the small space to open the door and-
"You look terrible," Beomgyu said, to your face and in your ear before hanging up. His cheeks were flushed, telling you he'd walked all the way here, in the cold, probably to check on you.
"Wow, thanks," you deadpanned as you let him in. "When's the next showing? Maybe we can make that one."
Your boyfriend pulled his hood down and looked at you for a moment before pressing his palm to your forehead. Trying not to flinch at the coldness of his hand, you looked up at him, his eyes still studying you.
"You're hot," he told you.
You scoffed, but it came out as more of a cough. "That's not what you were saying a minute ago."
Without another word, Beomgyu's hands were on your shoulders, turning you around and steering you through the small dorm room and sitting you down on your bed. Then he disappeared into the bathroom, coming back with a towel that he pressed against your head.
"I'm fine," you sighed. "Let's go see the movie."
Beomgyu tisked, gesturing for you to hold the towel before dipping to his knees to pull off your slippers. "The only movie you're seeing tonight is the DVD I got you for Christmas." Standing up again, he shooed you up the bed and pulled the covers over you.
"But we've seen that a hundred times," you whined. You'd been looking forward to a night out with your boyfriend; the movie, popcorn, leaving the confines of your dorm room after so many days and nights of studying.
"But you love it," he retorted, mocking your whiny tone. He handed you the remote for the tiny TV at the foot of your bed. "I'm guessing you haven't had dinner?" You shook your head. "Got any cup ramen?" You nodded.
You opened your mouth again to complain, but the words never came as Beomgyu kissed you on the top of the head and walked over to boil the kettle. Instead you let yourself sink into the comfort of your bed, only now noticing how exhausted you actually were. So you weren't going to get your date, but how could you complain when you had a boyfriend like this?
Taehyun
You were up before Taehyun this morning - an unusual occurrence. You'd woken up with a funny feeling in your throat and quickly but quietly escaped his room to cough without waking him. Then you'd tiptoed to the kitchen to boil water, eyes meeting with Yeonjun's who was sitting at the table eating cereal. His smirk said it all.
You were sat on the couch when Taehyun emerged from his room, tired eyes searching for you. By now, Soobin and Beomgyu were also sitting at the table eating. Taehyun plodded over to you. "Morning."
"Don't get contaminated," Yeonjun called, looking up from his phone. You narrowed your eyes at him.
Soobin, who looked like he could've still been half asleep, whipped his head up in confusion, chewing his toast with a new expression.
Taehyun's eyes swept from his friend to you, scanning your face for signs of anything amiss. "Are you not feeling well?"
"M'fine," you croaked, arms wrapped around yourself inside your hoodie as you tried to hold off a shiver.
"Tried to cough up a whole cat this morning," Yeonjun snitched. Soobin looked between Yeonjun and Beomgyu, still puzzled, his messy bed hair comedically flapping side to side.
You rolled your eyes, looking up at Taehyun with a small pout. "I just have a cough. It's probably the change in the weather."
"Or bronchitis."
Taehyun ignored the oldest boy's comment as he crouched down in front of you. "Do you want me to go to the pharmacy?"
"Really," you persisted. "I'm fine. I feel okay, just an itchy throat." As if on cue, you started to cough again, burying your face into the crook of your arm, then quickly tried to recover yourself. "I don't want you to worry."
"Sounds like a duck," Beomgyu said with a tone that gave away his amusement.
Taehyun sighed and rubbed up and down your arms comfortingly. "I just want to help you feel better, so anything you need, you just tell me, okay?"
You nodded. He stood up and went to the kitchen to start breakfast, giving you a kiss on the cheek first. Suddenly there was a commotion, as Beomgyu grabbed his breakfast bowl and ran from the kitchen yelling, "twenty-three nineteen!"
Huening Kai
The first thing that you noticed was a dull ache in your head. You'd taken some pain relief, thinking it was just a normal headache, and pushed on to get ready for your dinner plans. Kai's parents were always so happy to have you for dinner, and to see him catching up with them and his sisters made you happy, too.
You started to feel a little weak halfway through your meal, participating in conversation less and less, and after dinner you'd slipped away to a quiet room for what was supposed to be a few minutes. Your body felt heavy, more exhausted than what would be expected, and as you sat on an armchair in the dimly lit room, you became aware of the dull ache in your muscles. Eyes closing, the sound of distant chatter and laughter from the dining room lulled you quickly into unexpected sleep.
Kai had thought you were gone for the bathroom, and after ten minutes of your absence, his eyes flicking to the door every so often in anticipation of your reappearance, he thought he should check on you - maybe something you'd eaten wasn't agreeing with you. When he'd knocked on the bathroom door and there was no reply, he'd let himself in only to find it empty. He checked the kitchen, then the garden, then walked back to the dining room to see if you'd returned there while he'd been away. His mother joined him as he went to check the living room.
The two of them found you dozing and lowered their voices to a whisper, Mrs. Huening commenting that you hadn't seemed yourself earlier. Kai gently touched the back of his hand to your forehead and found it clammy. This, along with the headache you'd mentioned before the drive up and how quiet you'd been, probably meant you'd come down with something, and he decided to take you home.
That's how you woke up in Kai's arms, in the cold night air, on the way to the car. "There you are," he said when he noticed you awake. "Have a nice nap?"
You noticed a sore throat was beginning as you spoke, glancing around the street. "We're leaving?"
His soft brown eyes met yours as he continued to walk. His arms kept you steady against his chest, so you barely felt like you were on the move. "You're exhausted. You fell asleep."
You hated that you were the reason Kai's family time was being cut short and that you hadn't said goodbye to anyone. "I'm fine, Hyuka. Let's go back. Please?"
He came to a stop as he reached the car, looking down into your eyes again with a soft smile. "You need rest. We'll go home, I'll run a bath, and then we'll get into bed." Seeing you open your mouth to argue, he added, "Let me take care of you."
You couldn't argue with that.
written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form
3K notes · View notes
itsvelyria · 9 months
Text
"the moment the f1 boys realised you were the one"
Tumblr media
Charles Leclerc
being able to cry around you: charles has a bad habit of bottling everything up. it was three months into your relationship when he had a particularly bad race, a stroke of bad luck. he was met with pats on his back and mutters that he would do better. numbness flooding his veins, they did nothing to ease the anxiety in his chest. he met your eyes across the room and watched as you stepped closer. with extended arms, you'd told him to let it out. never once has anyone ever told him that before, and so he had instantly broken down, exhausted from having to hold it all together. there was nothing needed but your presence. he sobs messily into your shoulder and the next morning, he had wished that he'll always have you around.
Carlos Sainz
when he realised you knew him better than he did himself: "how did you know?" were his first words, when he came home one night, only to come face-to-face with a pair of Airpods on the nightstand, addressed to him. he had sorely needed a new pair after losing them on the plane but hadn't had the time to purchase them. "because i know you" was your answer, beaming up at him from the side, where you were preparing dinner. you had missed the deep look in his eyes, rambling on; first his sister's wedding anniversary present in the coat closet, then the watch his father had wanted mended for a while now all fixed. and there it was: that was the moment where carlos finally understood the fluttering in his heart.
Danny Ricciardo
making the best out of life: when you had agreed to go out with danny solely because he made life feel that much brighter, but what you didn't know was that he felt the same way about you. you were always up for anything, the easygoing aura you carried with your being influencing him, especially when he had suggested sharing the singular umbrella left in the store — the unexpected downpour having caught you both off guard. nonetheless, you huddled under the umbrella, both your shoulders getting soaked the second you left the safety of the grocery store shelter. eyes meeting across the umbrella handle, you both break out into chuckles at your plain misfortune. that's when he realised — there was no one else he wanted to be stuck in a bad situation with.
George Russell
inside jokes: it was a small thing, minuscule even, the earliest memory of the joke being one of your first few dates, before you were even official. it was just a simple coincidence that the situation you were called for it. in the group dinner with your mutual friends, george's eyes had shot to yours, searching for the only being who could possibly understand him. and in that flash of a moment when his blue gaze met yours, your bodies had naturally leaned towards their other halves, giggles muffled into your hands. if your friends were surprised at the sudden laughter, he doesnt even notice, too preoccupied with how gorgeous you looked in the candlelight and how fast his heartbeat has gotten.
Lando Norris
shared comfortable silence: your boyfriend loved people, befriending strangers and great conversations. it all came easy to him, possibly due to growing up a middle child, he mirrored a little ray of sunshine. but as much as he adored socialising, lando found that he equally enjoyed quiet time with you, especially on lounge chairs by the beach while you flipped through your book, absolutely taken by the words. lando admired the expression fluttering across your features with each passing page. something strange settled in his tummy as he continued staring, something he could only allude to how peace might feel like. perhaps this is how life was meant to be lived, he thought.
Lewis Hamilton
sharing tattoo meanings: lewis has had a lot of art done on his body over the years and he's proud of all of them; memories and meanings forever part of him. with the orange glow of your nightlight at 3am, he watched as you traced the patterns on his skin, telling you stories and what each of them meant. you had soaked up the words, mesmerised by the deep lull of his voice as he opened up his heart to you. never has anyone been so interested in him as a person, all they wanted to know was his career and business and he appreciated it. to you, he was just a man — someone you wanted to know more about.
Max Verstappen
his pets greeting you: as the provider for his cats, he expected a touch more loyalty from the feline beings. still he remained seated, fixated on how jimmy and sassy nuzzled at your calves, the warmth of their tiny bodies against his legs previously lost. the silence was broken by the sound of grocery bags tossed on the kitchen counter as you stooped down to scratch their fuzzy chins. a light purr emanated from sassy while jimmy rolled over, also meowing in a bid for attention. his heart strangely light, he watched you indulge them like the spoiled brats they were. was it because of how much love was within you or the care you held for the things he held dear? either way, max couldn't tamp down the urge to cross the room and wrap you in his arms, much like you did with his pets now, the three little words in the back of his throat.
2K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Nena VI
Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader
Summary: You go to the beach
Tumblr media
It took Ingrid longer than she would like to admit that she may have been neglecting you a little. You'd been sent for another visit after begging your Mama for ages to go back to Spain and Ingrid. It was a horrible coincidence that you had arrived the day before Mapi tore her meniscus.
Ingrid hadn't realised just how focused she had been on Mapi until Alexia had pulled her to the side one day and mentioned that you seemed a little sad playing with her.
It was then that Ingrid realised that she had been so focused on Mapi that she hadn't really been paying much attention to you.
It had been easy to rectify though and now you sat in the back of the car, happily swinging your legs as Bagheera sat next to you. Mapi sits in the passenger seat, her singular crutch propped up in the footwell.
Mapi had insisted on coming too even though adding her crutch to a beach environment probably wasn't the best idea. Mapi was adamant though. This was a family trip and she didn't want to miss it.
"Ingrid," Mapi whines," Are we nearly there?"
"Nearly," Ingrid promises and you huff in the back.
"Mapi, you asked that five minutes ago!" You complain, kicking her seat in annoyance while Bagheera yowls her agreement," You're so silly!"
Mapi pulls a funny face as she turns to face you. "Me?" She says," Silly? I'm not silly!" She pulls an even sillier face than before and you burst into a round of giggles.
"Ingrid," You say," Tell Mapi she's silly!"
"You're very silly Mapi," Ingrid says as she pulls into a parking space," Very, very silly but we're here now so you don't need to be as silly anymore."
Mapi jokingly wipes the sweat from her brow. "Wow, thank god for that. I'm glad my silliness is cured now."
You keep giggling as Ingrid helps you out of the car. You're handed your bucket and spade while Ingrid adjusts Bagheera in her arms and shoulders the bag she packed.
Mapi hobbles to find a spot on the beach to claim, having a little difficulty walking properly with her one crutch and you run ahead to grab her unoccupied hand to help.
"Thank you, nena," She says," I can always count on one Engen to help me out!"
"Mama says that too!" You reply, delighted," I'm her best helper! Even better than Ingrid!"
"Of course you are!" Mapi agrees," The best helper I've ever seen!"
You grin slyly before grabbing your ball out of the bag Ingrid's set down as she sets up everything you'll need for your day at the beach.
"Because I'm your best helper," You say," Can you show me how to slide tackle?"
Ingrid chuckles. "Mapi's still injured, nena. She can't show you that for a while."
You pout.
"I'll teach you later," Mapi says with a wink," You can practice on your sister. I think we should relax first though. Maybe after lunch."
You want to argue more but Mapi is definitely injured so you drop it and go back to your bucket and spade.
Ingrid lays out a towel and moves to sunbathe on top of it. She'll be asleep within minutes because she always takes a nap while at the beach.
Bagheera's leash is secured to the heavy bag so she can't escape but still has enough slack to explore while Mapi entertains her as she eats the snacks Ingrid had originally packed for you to share.
You build sandcastles though. You don't really go to the beach in Norway so it's nice that you can visit one in Spain. You don't know how long you've been building your little sand town but Mapi calls your name and you turn to look at her.
"Your sister is sleeping," She says and you nod in confusion. Ingrid is definitely sleeping but you don't know why Mapi's pointing it out. "Why don't you bury her?"
You frown. "Bury her?"
Mapi nods. "We'll bury her in the sand and that way she can't stop us from getting ice cream because she'll have to dig herself out!"
You like that idea. Ingrid doesn't like you having lots of ice cream even when you're at the beach so Mapi's actually had a good idea for once.
You're glad Ingrid packed your spare spade because that means Mapi can help too and you're getting it done even quicker than if you were alone.
You get a good amount of Ingrid buried before she wakes up, all the way to her waist.
"Mmm, nena?" Ingrid asks as she wakes up. Her hand comes up to rub against your chest. "Are you thirsty? Do you need a drink?"
You shake your head. "Mapi watered me."
"Stop saying it like that," Ingrid says with a little chuckle," You make it sound like you're a plant. She gave you water to drink. She didn't water you."
Mapi laughs too. "I don't know. I could have watered her. It's probably more sanitary than letting her in the sea."
Ingrid rolls her eyes. Her other hand moves to tickle a snoozing Bagheera, who also took the opportunity of being at the beach to have a quick doze in the sun.
"Mapi!" You say suddenly, spotting an ice cream truck pulling up near the car park," Ice cream!"
Mapi's head whips around wildly to where you're pointing and she's up like a shot, reaching quickly for her crutch. "Let's go, nena!"
"Hey!" Ingrid says," No ice cream! It'll ruin her teeth!"
Mapi grins. "Just try and stop us."
She takes off up the beach and you scramble after her.
It's in that moment that Ingrid realises she's been very firmly buried in the sand.
617 notes · View notes
fluffylino · 9 months
Text
hyunjin takes charge when you feel down. (very soft i promise)
-contains mature themes
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
he was cuddled up by your side.
hidden under the sheets. head resting on your chest. while you scrolled through your phone. his index finger tracing your hip lazily.
your eyes glued to your phone. if you looked at hyunjin you'd probably end up crying. he loved you so much. even more than yourself. you'd look at him and feel like it was only the two of you.
he looked up at you, inches away from your face. letting out a small sound for you to look.
"mhm?" you hummed, smiling a little at how dazed he looked.
eyes soft and lips jutting out into a pout. you pecked him. a small smile appearing on his face. nudging his nose against your cheek.
you could feel his eyes on you. the reel you were watching making you giggle. until you felt that sadness within you disappear.
what were you even doing with your life? everything was becoming too much. you weren't living life. you were surviving.
"mommy" hyunjin mumbled, hiding his face in your chest.
breaking you out of your thoughts. you weren't feeling like yourself. you wanted to be taken care of. today.
you were vulnerable.
heart aching with tiredness. you hummed, holding your phone with one hand. using your right hand to stroke his head. untangling a few strands carefully.
"can i?"
how could you deny him when he asked so softly. voice stuck in his throat. you nodded. letting him slowly push your shirt up.
a small whine leaving him at the sight.
laying back down. mouthing at your exposed chest. his other hand coming up to hold your right boob. tongue laving over your hardening nub. you sighed. finally keeping your phone down.
all his attention on you.
"hard" he whispered. very carefully grinding his covered length against your thigh that was slotted there.
"j-jinnie" you whimpered. mind going fuzzy.
you missed him. even though he was so close. you wanted him closer. feeling extra submissive. his face lifting up to look at you with such kind eyes. you felt like you were going to start crying.
he seemed to understand.
he always understood.
"daddy will take care of you" he reassured, moving upwards to kiss you. holding your face as tears fell down.
kissing them away as you closed your eyes. all your worries sinking away.
"s-sorry" you whispered. what if he wanted you to take care of him.
"nothing to be sorry about, my love" he mumbled against your lips.
"tell me what you want"
you didn't know what you wanted from him. you wanted all of him. seeing him satisfied made you feel better.
"jerk you off?" you asked.
closing your eyes while he wiped your tears away with his thumbs. he hummed, shuffling around so he could still hold you.
his leg thrown over your waist. pulling his pants down just enough.
you watched silently. his length slipping out. tip rubbing against the side of your thigh.
you hadn't even realised you zoned out. that was until he gently held your hand.
making you wrap your fingers around his cock. his own hand engulfing yours as he guided your movements.
starting off slow. with long strokes.
"you did well today baby" laying soft kisses to your neck.
"ah- so proud of you" you let yourself sink into his grasp. your hold on his dick getting more firm. pumping him more eagerly.
you puckered your lips, wanting him to kiss you till you couldn't breathe. and so he did. lips pressed against yours.
intentionally you swiped your thumb over his sensitive head, precum wetting it.
"d-don't tease, my love" you stopped your tricks, letting him enjoy.
"you're my beautiful s-smart baby" you whined, pulling away to look at where you were pumping him. his own hand next to yours.
so much bigger.
"want my fingers?" you shook your head, keeping your mouth open. as he moved his hand off his dick. now you were in charge of making him cum. his index and middle finger sliding right in.
you moaned at the feeling of his digits.
"want me to cum all over your stomach?" you nodded, ignoring the drool that had dripped down his wrist.
your grip on him growing tighter as you stroked him fast. breathy whines leaving his lips. he was getting so close. you knew it. you could feel it from the way his dick throbbed in your hand. his hips moving unconciously to match your pace.
he gradually sat up. nipping at your stomach. eyes shut tight.
it all happened so fast. his cum spurting out over you. staining you.
riding out his orgasm. he let out a heavy breath, leaning down to lick his cum off of you. before kissing you. groaning at the taste of him.
"mommy did so well"
2K notes · View notes
Text
Realising they accidentally hurt you while making out - 141 + König
Requested by Anon
some angst, fluff, mentions of sexual themes but nothing explicit.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Gentle isn't really in his vocabulary - he's six feet of pure muscle and strength and while he tries to make a conscious effort to reign himself in, he can sometimes get a bit carried away in the moment.
For him to be physically intimate with you on any level, you'd have to be close to him; in this scenario, you'd have worked your way into his heart.
Doesn't like being vulnerable, point-blank.
But once he realises that he'd hurt you, someone he cares so deeply for, he feels guilty. Beyond guilty.
Notices the bruising on your wrists from his solid grip, when he'd been holding them above your head during a passionate kiss, and feels his stomach drop.
Even as you insist to him that you're okay, he'd be distant.
With all of his past experiences - with his Father, his Mother, and his childhood as a whole - he internally and solemnly swore that he would never lay a finger on you or hurt you, in any way.
And now? He feels like he's done just that.
Would probably take him a while to get out of that headspace - you knew that trying to push him wouldn't help but still checked up on him; which in turn made him feel more guilty, you were so kind to him and deep down he felt like he didn't deserve such kindness.
You would be cooking a meal for the both of you, when he would wrap his arms around your waist from behind, wordlessly pressing his head into the crook of your neck.
"'m sorry." He was apologising not just for the bruises, but for everything - he had been hiding himself away, and the lack of intimacy was borderline painful for the both of you.
You turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you to him in a hug. He stiffened, before his arms tightened around you slightly, as if he was making sure that you were still here with him.
You were, and you silently promised that you weren't going anywhere.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny is your typical 'class clown' - he's charismatic in such a way that you can't help but laugh along with him, and his energy just makes him fun to be around.
The only time he really gets serious is when he's working but even then he's always one to crack jokes with the Team - namely, with Ghost (who 9/10 pretends to be annoyed at the Sergeant, rather than admitting he enjoys his company).
He always misses you so much when he's deployed - to be honest even if you were also in the military, if you both got sent on different missions or were even apart for a day, he'd still feel like he hadn't seen you in forever.
So when he does see you again, he's very passionate in showing you just how much he missed you.
It wasn't until you winced from how hard he was gripping onto your hip during a make-out session that he pulled away, panicked eyes searching your form for the source of the pain.
His eyes fell onto the slightly discoloured blotches on your hip, and he instantly frowned, scooping you into a hug.
"Aw I'm so sorry, Darlin', I didnae realise I was hurtin' ye."
The make-out session was completely abandoned, as he rubbed your hip gently, kissing your forehead.
Makes mental notes to keep his strength reigned in in future, and feels absolutely awful when he sees the finger-shaped bruises forming on your skin :(
Definitely would turn up with a bouquet of flowers for you, orders your favourite food and dotes on you for days after it - no matter how much you may protest, he's going to treat you the best he can.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Another guy who's very passionate when he's been away from you for a long period of time.
He misses you more than you'll ever know - he even carries a little photo of you in the pocket of his tactical vest.
Can get a bit excitable when making out, picking you up under your thighs, pushing you against the wall - a little bit too forcefully.
He notices your breath hitching and it takes him a second to realise that it wasn't sexual, but he had in fact accidentally knocked the back of your head against the wall with the momentum.
Immediately places you down on the bed, apologies continuously flowing out of his mouth as he pulls you to his chest, cradling your head.
It didn't hurt that much, more of a dull ache, but in his eyes he might as well have fractured your skull.
Like Soap, he dotes on you for ages after it, promising that in future he'll be more careful with his strength.
Captain John Price
He's been in the military for a long time so he likes to think that he has a good awareness of his strength, and is always mindful around you.
He doesn't treat you like you're fragile, but he's never rough with you - unless you ask, that is.
I reckon that he's incredibly good at reading people, so if he noticed even a slight hint of discomfort or pain on your features during a make-out session, he'd immediately stop and ask if you were alright.
If you voiced your discomfort or pain, he'd feel guilty for hurting you in the first place, hands delicately massaging any sore spots.
He treats you like royalty anyways, but after this? He'd practically on bended knee, would do anything you asked.
Wouldn't ask to continue with your make-out session, waiting for you to be comfortable first; he'd never want to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable with him.
All in all, he's very mature about it, apologising profusely - your happiness and safety is paramount to him.
König
König is always hyper aware of his sheer size and strength - he knows he's big and strong, it's what makes him so good at his job in the first place.
It's also why he's always so cautious around you, he practically treats you like you're made of glass.
Even if you're in the military or part of KorTac, he's still going to be hesitant to spar with you for fear of hurting you in the process.
If he hurt you while making out, he'd honestly want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Doesn't matter if it's a tiny bruise or a scrape, he's going to completely shut down; it'd be like how he was when you initially met him, the closed-off mercenary who doesn't speak to anyone and keeps to himself.
He tries to make it clear that he's not angry at you - quite the opposite, he's livid with himself for not being able to control his own strength.
Like Ghost, it would take him a while to come around - but you would have to make the first move.
He would be sitting on your shared bed, head in his hands as he licks his wounds, inwardly cursing himself; his sniper hood would be back on, as if he was trying to hide himself away from the world.
Coming to stand between his legs, you'd gently place your hand over his, encouraging him to lift his head up to look at you.
"It's okay, I'm alright."
He said nothing, hands coming to rest on your hips, as he pressed his forehead to your stomach. You encircled your arms around his broad shoulders and his tentatively wrapped around your waist.
He'd eventually come around but it would take a lot of convincing to get him out of the mindset that he was going to end up hurting you again.
Poor guy just loves you so much :(
8K notes · View notes
alesbianperson · 6 months
Text
football player!ellie williams x fem!reader
Tumblr media
summary: At the football play you visited to support your best friend, something happens that you didn't expect.
warnings: smoking (weed); slightly implied loser Ellie at the end; swear words; girls kissing (what a surprise); my writing idk
authors note: so firstly I mean football as soccer and not american football, but its not important to the plot so it can be interpreted as either; secondly, sorry for being so inactive I actually needed fucking half a year just for this its actually embarressing, I'm really slow at writing I don't know why, but I'm trying to be more active. I also didnt proofread so sorry for grammar mistakes or something anyway I hope you enjoy this!!
ALSO BIG DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN AND THE FACT THAT HE SUPPORTS ISRAEL!! If you don't know whats going on in Palestine, please go educate yourself because its highly important.
Here are a few links, so nobody can say it's too complicated or annoying to search for information (besides its really fucking heartless, cruel and totally not human to say "I dont wanna put effort in researching" while people are literally suffering and dying because of a genocide):
General information/updates
Brands to boycott
How you can help Palestine
Palestine masterposts: 1 2
--☆--
This evening was the final football game of the season. Everyone was so excited, and your best friend played in the school team, so of course, you came to this game to support her. You already arrived a bit late because you took a nap and didn't hear the alarm, so you quickly searched for your friends who were already sat and luckily saved you a seat. When they saw you coming in, they waved you over to them.
"What took you so long? The game has already started!" One of them said before switching their attention back to the field. "Sorry, I overslept." You explained yourself sitting down on your seat. "You didn't miss much, just a foul from the other team. They're so annoying and clearly playing anything but fair." Another one of your friends said, rolling her eyes while offering you a bag of chips. You declined and began searching for your best friend between all the other players, running on the field. Not even five seconds later, you found her. With the ball in front of her, she ran towards the goal. You joined the cheers of everyone from your school, sure that this was going to be such a great goal until:
A girl from the other team came out of nowhere, running towards her, tackling her to the ground. You gasped. "That was another foul!" One of your friends exclaimed, standing up to better see what the referee would say. But instead of also looking at the referee, your gaze still hasn't left the girl, responsible for the foul.
She looked pleased with herself. What an asshole! You thought to yourself, but couldn't deny that the way her eyes sparkled in the light and her auburn hair moved in the wind was mesmerising. Too distracted by her features, you realised a bit late that she was eyeing you too. A smirk on her lips, she winked at you before walking off the field, your eyes still on her.
"Too bad that bitch just got a yellow card. She deserved more, right?" Your friends, already discussing the decision of the referee, were turning to you since you were the only one who didn't comment on it. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realised you hadn't listened the whole time, busy gushing over that girl. "Yeah.. definitely more." Was all you said to not keep the attention on you.
"Guys," you added after a short pause, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back."
"Sure."
"But hurry, they're already playing again."
You just slightly nodded before walking off to search for the bathrooms. To your luck, they weren't far away from your seats, so it didn't take too long to find them. As you closed the door behind you, a strong smell of weed filled your lungs. Holding a hand in front of your mouth, you coughed reflexively.
"Having trouble breathin', princess?"
You turned around to see the girl who fouled your best friend sitting on the sink, her legs slightly swinging forwards and back. She still wore her tricot but now had a grey, dirty, worn-out jacket over it. The half up half down bun she had was messed up, probably because of the constant running on the field, and between two of her fingers, she held an already half smoked joint.
Her smile rose as she noticed your gaze lingering on her again. "Y'want a photo? It'll last longer." She chuckled, finding this old ass joke very funny. You rolled your eyes at her words but couldn't help the smile, forming on your lips. "What are you doing here anyway, don't you have to play?" She blew out the smoke she held in her mouth before answering your question. "My coach replaced me. Said I needed a break before playing again." You just nodded because you didn't know how to keep the conversation going. For a few seconds, you both just looked at each other in silence. After taking another drag from the joint, she leaned forward, offering you to do the same.
"No, thanks. I don't smoke."
"Thought so." She chuckled. After a short pause, she added: "Not in a rude way, of course. Y'just don't look like you'd do drugs." Even though you knew it was childish and totally stupid, you now wanted to prove to her that you were indeed someone who could take drugs. So you took the joint out of her hand, carefully brought it to your lips, and inhaled.
You probably shouldn't have inhaled this deep because now you were coughing like someone poured tons of sand down your throat. It surely felt like it. When you calmed down a bit, you looked up again, handing the joint back to the girl on the sink, who was clearly amused. "What a brave girl." She said with a shit eating grin on her face. "Come here, I'll show you how it's done right."
She gestured between her spread legs. As you moved towards her, she leaned in, reducing the space between the two of you. "Open your mouth." She then proceeded to take a drag from the joint. As she moved closer, your breath hitched. Your eyes wandered from her gorgeous green ones down to her lips, and heat rose in your cheeks again. Without breaking eye contact, she blew the smoke she had in her mouth into yours. Reflexively, you closed it.
"Now hold it in."
And that's what you did. The smoke filled your lungs, this time a lot less painful than your first drag. After a few seconds, you exhaled slowly, a small smile of pride on your face.
Your faces were still very close, and silence fell upon the both of you again. The tension thickend. Her emerald green eyes stared directly into yours, abruptly blinking down to your lips. "Can I kiss you?" Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, fading into thin air. A smirk grew once again on her lips before nodding and then proceeding to lean in and closing the gap between the two of you.
Once her lips were on yours, she cupped your cheek, her fingertips brushing slightly over it. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Her lips were so soft. You couldn't really describe the feeling, but it felt good. Like you were on cloud nine. You quickly synced with the rhythm she set, leaning forward so that her back met the wall behind her.
Your hands wandered behind her neck, beginning to tug on her hair slightly. A soft groan escaped her lips at the sudden impact, which sounded like music to your ears.
A smile formed on your lips once she broke the kiss to catch her breath. "What're you smiling at?" She looked at you irritated, which just caused you to chuckle.
"I don't know. You're.. pretty."
Silence followed after that.
"Pretty enough to get your number?"
Ellie wanted to bash her head against the wall at her cringe comment. She thought she'd definitely crossed the line now. But you just began laughing, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound.
"Sorry. Don't get me wrong I-", you interrupted yourself by holding up your finger to signal her to wait and began searching for your phone in your purse. Fuck. You thought as you realised you left it in your jacket with your friends and hurriedly searched around for something to write on. Ellie just watched you amused, catching on to your plan. She snatched a pepertowel out of the spender and offered it to you. You just gave her an awkward smile, fishing a half empty kajal out of your purse and scribbled your phone number on it.
As you handed it to her, she took it with the same smirk she had in the beginning. "As sad as it is, I think I have to go back on the field. My coach probably misses me by now." She added hesitantly while sliding off the sink and walking towards the door. "Cool meeting you, though." The click of the closing door was the last thing you heard before you were completely alone in the bathroom.
With the paper towel still in her hand, Ellie made her way over to the rest of her team, almost jumping with joy and thanking every mighty power for letting her survive the whole conversation without completely losing her mind or embarrassing herself. She'd definitely save your number as soon as she could. Actually contacting you was a whole other story.
864 notes · View notes
0oolookitsme · 2 months
Text
Piece of His Heart
Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n
Word Count - 1.0k
Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.
Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.
Tumblr media
Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back. 
She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt. 
Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.
He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him. 
Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.
Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.
His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.
A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there. 
Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio. 
He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up. 
Another piece of his heart was taken then. 
He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that. 
Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.
Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth. 
"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head. 
"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle. 
Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart. 
Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together. 
Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed. 
Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.
Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more. 
He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling. 
Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.
"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe. 
And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier. 
"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin." 
405 notes · View notes
xo-cod · 10 months
Text
forgive the inaccuracies, idk much about babies <3 ooc/rushed :)
simon w his baby but she has a preference for one parent and it's not him
Tumblr media
simon finally coming back to his safe place, his sanctuary, his home, all but eager to spend some needed time with his family. be had been off to a mission, the last one for a while to make sure that everything was okay. he had already been incredibly reluctant to leave you but now that you both had a baby, it was hard. not a second was spent on the field where images of the pair of you blazed through his mind, almost nearly costing his arm and leg in the process of being too distracted. it had been hell to say the least
but the day finally came, there he was finally on his way back after an intense gruelling month. simon saw you first, bundling you up close in his built arms enjoying your little chuckles that fell from your lips. removing his balaclava as he peppers tender kisses across your cheeks before your lips, his soft smile growing at how happy he was to be back. before he set you back down, eyes scouring about for his bundle of pure joy
"where is she, lovie?? i missed her so much, i got her a little trinket from the place we were deployed in, hope she likes it" he chuckled softly, opening one of his pockets to reveal the gift as he catches his baby on the carpet playing with toys babbling away. his heart was practically bursting at its seams, shedding away his utility vest and his gear to make sure nothing could hurt her before he gently padded his way over. he had different ways the evening would pan out but he hadn't expected this.
he didn't ever expect to be met with a blank stare in return
his heart dropped when he picked his little girl up, she was too busy playing with her favourite toys to even react to him. he hadn't anticipated her looking at him like a stranger. he could've cried with the way she wriggled out of his grasp and wanting to be let down as if he was some enemy. as if instead of being the protector he was now the very thing he swore to keep away from his child, a stranger.
his face like a kicked puppy when he looked at you with pure shock and pain, looking back at the baby who was eagerly crawling back to you having wanting nothing to do with him despite him trying to come closer. you could see all the happiness he previously had practically disappeared from his body, his shoulders deflating with sadness and pain
she couldn't recognise him, she was no longer a daddy's girl
"honey.... sweetheart, it's me, dad. daddy's here. c'mon, c'mere munchkin" he tried to chuckle, kneeling down opening his muscular arms only for her to blink at him and then look back at her toys again
"lovie.... what's going on?" his voice is so soft with hurt and shock looking back to you with huge shining eyes as if he had encountered the worst loss till date. suddenly the mission he had just been on was nothing, the weight of his child preferring you over him was crushing his heart into pieces he didn't think he would come back from. how he'd do any mission 10x over if it meant his child, his treasure would love him again
•••
and it remained that way for the next week, he tried his utmost best but it never seemed to be good enough for her. you tried to console him but he remained dejected, she was always wanting to run back to you. to be comforted by you and to be held by you. every time he tried to tuck her in, his efforts simply proved fruitless. she would cry and cry until you came back in and he watched from the side never feeling like he had failed so hard before in his life.
it hurt more than any of the superficial wounds he ever managed to get in battle, it hurt more than him being on his literal deathbed all those times he was caught in the cross fire. and it only propelled him further into despair when he made the mistake of googling it and realising that this phase may very well last years.
you could see him break with everyday, doubting himself as a father and as a husband. blaming himself and letting the doubt plague his heart and mind. it seemed nothing could comfort him apart from his baby that wanted nothing to do with him. he hadn't managed to hug her at all, he missed being able to snuggle her soft skin for hours. lounging around the home with her cuddled up in one arm as the other gently rubbed on the back of her head soothingly holding her close to his heart. and the thought of never being able to cuddle her without the cries that accompanied it was more than he could bear, it hurt more than anything he had gone through
that was until one night, he was tiredly going to the bathroom and pausing over the nursery. he hadn't meant to but he peeked in and saw her laying in her crib half asleep. her eyes big and brown exactly like his, blinking up slowly at the lieutenant. she was quiet apart from the small sounds she made sucking on the pacifier, a soft bunny in her hand as she peeked back at her father.
"hey baby...." he whispered so softly, he didn't even think she had heard. but her head tilted in curiosity and he chuckled, his hands coming to rest on the walls of the crib. desperately aching to feel her soft skin but too nervous to agitate her
"it's me honey, your dad. i really.... really miss you" he broke off, his heart feeling so heavy as the guilt came barreling in once more. it was his fault that he left her for a month, he shouldn't have been so surprised when he came back and preferred you. you had been there when he couldn't, she developed an attachment with you, not with him
"i'm so sorry to have left you for a month, honey. if i had known- if i thought for a second you'd hate me-" he didn't have the heart to finish the words, the guilt overriding his senses. with a soft sigh, his forehead leaned against his palm for a moment. his own baby didn't like him, he hadn't felt this low in a long time.
he promised he would never raise her in a volatile environment like he had grown up but already he hadn't been any better. he left her knowing for a month, coming back to see her favouring you. and it wasn't easy on both of you, he knew that. he knew he was being irrational but it stung more than any cut, the fact that if he hadn't made the choice to go on the mission that his baby wouldn't be acting so strangely around him.
simon didn't expect anything more tonight, too scared to touch her in case she started crying so he settled for placing the blanket back over her and heading off to bed with a heavy heart. what he didn't expect was the small coo coming from her lips, her tiny fist wrapping up over his index finger. his heart was in his throat, eyes wide at the sight as he looked back to her sweet innocent face again
"me?? you want me?" his voice was so gentle, too scared to speak loud as if this was all a beautiful dream he would wake up from. hesitantly he had reached down, his breath held as his large hands wrapped around his baby so delicately as if she'd shatter beneath his fingertips. slowly sitting down on the rocking chair, the moonlight pouting through the window illuminating her features.
how everyone around claimed she was a carbon copy, how proud he was to call her his daughter. all the moments that they shared running through his mind like a montage and she tilted her small head up at him, a gentle giggle falling from her lips before she rested her weary head against his warm chest. he could've cried and he did, gently but firmly holding her body between his hands. thanking whatever goodness he had done in his life that she was back, his baby was back. and she loved him just like before. she recognised him, she wanted him willingly. it was enough to break him out of whatever funk he had been in, trying desperately not to sob happy tears after a long gruelling two weeks.
you woke up the next morning to see simon laying on the rocking chair, one hand protectively over her small back while the other locked around her little legs as they both slept peacefully. his cheek leaning against her forehead as they cuddled up close on the rocking chair, both making the exact same sleeping face causing you to hide your growing smile and snap a little picture of the tender moment.
she truly was his little mini.
2K notes · View notes