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millersfinest · 12 days ago

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can u make some like generic dating ellie headcannons? (tlou universe preferably)

i love ur writing sm!!

dating ellie williams ◡̈

cw: usual fluff, mentioned love languages, mention of joel’s death (i wanted to be as canon as possible), a little nsfw but nothing too crazy.

note: here are some semi-ooc ellie hc’s!! i feel like im so bad at headcanons, but here you go. thank you for enjoying my work, i hope you like this too pookie!

ellie! is a total introvert to her core, so no matter how she found out about you taking interest in her… she’d probably need some time to think about it.

ellie! would have you freaking tf out over it too. but she means well, she’s just a really bad over-thinker—never wanting to say the wrong thing. but she’d come around and never stop apologizing to you.

ellie! would take a little while to open up to you, if you weren’t friends first. she’s been through a lot in her life, and she fears that her trauma could scare people away.

now, if you were already friends (specifically close friends), you probably would’ve already known her deepest darkest secrets and feelings by the time you started dating. every traumatic event and every fixation she’s had since she was a child.

ellie! thoroughly believes in physical touch and quality time as a love language.

for physical touch: it doesn’t always have to be sexual (she doesn’t complain either way), she just likes to touch you—knowing you’re right there next to her. you could be doing the dishes and she’d come up behind you, leaning her head on your shoulder, with her hands delicately placed on your hips. or standing by the bar at the tipsy bison, with her fingers dipped into any of the pockets of your jeans. keeping you close.

for quality time: she does love her moments alone, but they’re always better with you somewhere near by. sometimes, when she would spend hours painting or drawing in her art room, she’d ask if you could come sit in. so you’d bring your book, or whatever you were doing, and read silently in the same room as her. while a smooth record played in the background. but sometimes, she doesn’t even ask. you could be doing the most boring thing ever, and she’d float around you like a curious bumblebee.

ellie! love, love, loves being babied—even though she’d never admit it. she has a reputation to uphold, of course. during the spring, due to the patrols and supply runs, her allergies would wreck havoc on her. that’s where you come in to nurture her back to health. she’d have tissue stuck up her nose, with her head lying in your lap on the couch. you rubbing your hand over her hair, soothingly.

“if you kiss me right now, i think my sinuses will re-open.”

“ellie, you just sneezed two minutes ago.”

“baby, pleaseeeee! i need it!” and she’d give the craziest puppy dog eyes known to man. and, of course, you’d give in. giving her the sweetest smooch ever. it didn’t open her sinuses, but she knew that. just know… she’s gonna convince you to give her another to be sure.

another scenario would be coming home after a long day at work (idk i feel like doing patrols would be like her main thing). she probably had a rough day with the lingering infected, and came back with a few injuries. the moment she stepped through the door, she’d be calling for you. wrapped in your arms, smelling like the outdoors, you’d slowly undress her and then run a bath. she loved when you’d cater to her in that way—cleaning her cuts, washing her skin from dried blood and dirt. after all that, you’d cuddle in bed, pillow-talking until her eyes shut before yours.

“goodnight, els.” smooch.

ellie! was a little iffy when it came to holidays, but when it came to your birthday it was a special affair. jackson was a healthy and happy little bubble, but because the idea of loss wasn’t foreign to her—celebrating her loved ones was very important to her.

if you didn’t like grand gestures, she’d keep it lowkey. maybe throwing a little surprise for the two of you at home; cooking you dinner, having a movie night, and giving you little trinkets she found on the road. or painting something for you in secret, then giving it to you as a gift.

speaking of cooking…

ellie! has thing for making good food. a part of me feels like joel put her on when she was young, and after he died (yeah, i’m sorry) she made an effort to keep it up. playing guitar was much harder for her since she only had two fingers and a thumb on her left hand—so she decided to pick up something else to stay close to him.

so every chance she can get, she cooks for you or both of you. when you would go on patrols, you’d make sure to pick up cook books from before the outbreak since she found them so fascinating. and you loved being her little food guinea pig. spoiler: she was a fast learner so her cooking skills were pretty good.

ellie! 100% taught you to play the song (that we all know and love) that joel taught her on the guitar. and whenever you knew she needed to hear it, you’d play it for her. and, i swear on everything, there’d be tears in her eyes every time.

and for some freaky stuff… (i won’t get into crazy detail but i just wanna be thorough ;D)

ellie! just loves loving you… making love to you—doing everything that she can to almost prove that you’re everything to her (not that she needs to but she does it anyway).

meaning: at the very best, she’s a service!top. however, i can get behind her being a switch/verse (or maybe i’m bias lmao).

ellie! probably wouldn’t strap as often as the fanfics show. especially being in this apocalyptic world—where would you get them?? if they weren’t hella old… and, i feel like she’d think they were a little silly (but if you wanted to try it, she’d oblige because what you say goes).

ellie! loves to watch the expressions of your features contort into visuals of pleasure. it’s how she knew she was being good for you—doing everything that you asked but better!

your first time: of course she was super awkward. not really knowing where to put her hands at first. but once the heat began to rise, and your bodies began to press together, her entire energy changed! she’s her most confident when she’s in service to someone (in some way)—so she makes it her prerogative to make you feel good and comfortable. you weren’t really expecting that from her, though. it only took one airy moan coming from your lips for her to completely flip the script.

her hands were firmly delicate, and she made sure to be very vocal in your ears and over your body.

overall, ellie williams is a very attentive lover. in many ways than just one.

#🪅#millersfinest #ellie tlou #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams smut

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hurtblossom · 4 months ago

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No time to die

Pairing : Lando Norris x F1 Driver!Reader (Female)

Summary : A desire to keep their relationship secret, but for all the wrong reasons, and at what cost ?

Warnings : ANGST, Swearing, the english is still terrible, inchident on the race, blood. Confort?

NO HATE TOWARDS ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, IT'S JUST FICTION, AND I NEEDED VILLAINS.

Masterlist

Lando Norris and Y/N Y/L/N were both drivers for the McLaren racing team. They met when Y/N joined the team. While Lando didn’t know her at all, she had known who he was from a very young age, having already raced against him and other current F1 drivers when they were children in karting. From their first meeting, there was an undeniable spark between them, but their journeys had been very different.

Y/N was the only current female driver, which made it easy for her to catch the eyes of people around her. Not only due to her exceptional skills but also because of her beauty, which left many speechless, including Lando Norris. He remembered his first impressions of her: her confidence, determination, and captivating smile. Y/N carried herself with a grace and strength that commanded respect on and off the track.

When she met Lando, Y/N fell for him almost immediately. If you asked her, she would tell you it was love at first sight. For Lando, it took a bit more time to open up to her. Since she joined right after Carlos, he felt like she took his friend's spot, but as time passed by, he realized she deserved her place in McLaren. He recalled the moments they shared, talking about their past karting races, sharing jokes, and laughter that brought them closer each day.

The two grew closer each day, and finally, they both decided to let that chemistry become romance and started a relationship. Everything was perfect in Y/N's eyes, especially in the beginning. She wanted the whole world to see how in love with him she was. For her, they were endgame. But whenever the conversation about announcing their relationship came up, Lando simply brushed it off. He was always polite about it, saying it wasn’t the right time or that it could complicate things with the media and the team.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

A month passed, then two months, six months, and still nothing. Y/N started to notice how Lando would distance himself from her, drawing an invisible line between them. The kisses became less frequent, he would come to her apartment less often, and Y/N had stopped asking about announcing their relationship a long time ago. She missed the early days when everything seemed possible, and their love felt like a secret treasure.

Professionally, Lando kept his distance at work, being careful not to be seen with her by other drivers or staff members. When they had media duties, Y/N saw through his act. Over time, she learned when Lando was pretending. It broke her heart a little each time she tried to reach out to him, and he didn't give her the time of day. She remembered the countless nights she spent alone, wondering what went wrong, replaying their conversations, and hoping for a sign that things would change.

When Lando won his first ever GP in Miami, Y/N was ecstatic, smiling ear to ear, proud of the man she called her boyfriend. She couldn't hide her excitement and immediately jumped into his arms as soon as she got out of her car, telling him how proud she was and how she knew he could do it. He, for once, reciprocated her hug, only squeezing her a little, thanking her quickly before running away to celebrate his victory with the team. At the club after the race, Lando barely acknowledged her as he partied with his friends, other drivers, and some other girls. She watched from a distance, feeling like a stranger in a place where she should have felt at home.

A few weeks later, it was Y/N's turn to succeed, winning her first ever GP in Canada. Getting out of her car, she expected the same treatment as Lando when he won. She was jumping up and down, hugging a few team members, but she felt a certain coldness. Lando, being P2, not far from Y/N, got out of his car. Y/N walked towards him, a smile on her face, waiting for him to do anything really. He just passed by her, patting her shoulder. On the podium were herself, Lando, and Max. She was the only one not being sprayed with champagne. That night, Y/N found herself all alone in her hotel room, silent tears streaming down her face as she read the message from Zak Brown: "It was supposed to be Lando's win today. We expect you to help him win the races, not steal them from him. Be careful next time, or this win will be the last of your career." She felt a deep sense of betrayal and loneliness, wondering how things had gone so wrong.

Two weeks went by, and Y/N and Lando didn't talk much. She tried reaching out, but his replies were short and dry, so she didn't insist much, still hurt by the events in Canada. Their once vibrant connection felt like it was fading into a mere shadow of what it used to be.

Spain's GP came quicker than expected for the young female driver. She didn't want to go, feeling her spark for driving leaving her slowly. She was in her driver's room, sitting on her small bed, getting lectured by Zak, who was reminding her of what she was supposed to do. Lando, who was coming in, heard a bit of the conversation. Zak left, and Lando entered the room.

"How are you feeling about today's race?" Lando asked, looking at his girlfriend, trying to sound casual.

"Don't worry, I won't overtake you. You don't need to pretend you care how I feel," she said, getting up from her spot and adjusting her outfit, her voice tinged with sadness.

"What are you even talking about? Of course, I care," Lando said, raising his voice slightly, frustration creeping in.

"You don't care, Lando. I was so stupid thinking you loved me," she raised her voice too, tears ready to fall.

"I care," Lando argued, trying to bridge the growing gap between them.

"Yeah, like you cared when I won in Canada, or like you cared when I was all alone in my room during MY special night? You don't hug me anymore, you don't kiss me, you don't talk to me. Are we even together anymore?" Her voice broke with the weight of her emotions.

"You're so selfish, Y/N. Not everything is about you," he said, his own pain and confusion coming to the surface.

"How can I be selfish when all I do is try to please you?" Y/N exclaimed, hurt and bewildered.

"I wish I never met you. You're such a waste of time," Lando screamed, not thinking, letting his anger take over.

"You don't mean that," Y/N whispered, crying, her heart shattering.

"I mean every single word. I should have never given you a chance. I always knew I could do better than you anyway. Why do you think I never go out with you? I'm ashamed. Who would want to be seen with you?" Lando continued, his words like daggers.

Y/N didn't let any other word get out of her mouth, getting out of the room, tears streaming down her face, having a full-on panic attack. She sat down, trying to calm her breathing. After what felt like an eternity, she wiped the tears and went straight to the garage. Once she entered, Lando's eyes immediately went to her, guilt written all over his face. She quickly put her helmet on, trying to block the cameras from seeing her puffy red eyes.

When all the cars were parked in the right places on the starting grid, the lights went green, and the Spain race started.

It was on her tenth lap that Y/N started to feel something was wrong with the car.

"Something is wrong with the car," she said loud and clear, so the engineer could hear her through the radio.

"What do you mean?" The engineer said, his voice laced with worry.

"I can't slow down. I don't know what to do," she started panicking, her mind racing.

"It's going to be okay. Try to bring back the car," the engineer said in her ears, trying to keep her calm.

It was a matter of seconds before Y/N's car ended up rolling all the way toward a wall. The public went silent as the accident happened. The car behind her, which was George's, stopped, and the man came running to her. A red flag was quickly drawn, making all the other cars retire to the pit. The scene was chaotic, with everyone fearing the worst.

Lando arrived and got out of his car, looking around, not understanding what was happening. He went to Carlos, who was standing just in front of him.

"What's happening?" he asked, anxiety clear in his voice.

"Accident. We don't know who it is," the Spaniard said, looking at the big screen, trying to get a better view of what was happening.

Lando was looking around, trying to find Y/N. When he didn't see her car anywhere, he looked back at the screen. He recognized George's car and saw what looked like an orange car, upside down, stuck between the wall and the tires. He ran to the McLaren facility, his heart pounding.

"Y/N? Are you conscious?" Lando heard Zak say, his voice tense.

He picked up headphones and listened carefully. He heard weak breathing.

"Y/N? It's Lando. Please reply to me, baby," Lando said, earning looks from the team.

"It hurts," Y/N struggled to say, her breathing uneven.

"Where does it hurt, baby?" Lando asked, trying to keep her awake, his voice trembling.

"Everywhere. Please get me out of here. I can't move," Y/N was crying, fear in her voice. "Lando?"

"I'm here, love. They're trying to get you out," he said, his heart breaking.

"I don't want to die, Lan," she sobbed, her voice barely a whisper.

"You're not dying, baby," Lando murmured, tears streaming down his face.

The safety team got Y/N out after several minutes of struggling. Once she was finally out, George helped her stand. Everyone let out a breath, thinking it was finally over. Lando was looking at his lover, trying to control his own breathing, not to break down right there and then.

But everything came crashing down again when Y/N stopped walking, her orange suit becoming more and more stained with red around her abdomen. She collapsed, her body giving out.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: *

"I'm not asking you to apologize, I'm asking you to explain to me how the fuck did you let this happen?" Lando was screaming on the phone. "Zak, she almost died. There's no good excuse for that." He hung up after that, returning to his sitting position next to Y/N's bed, who was still unconscious.

He looked at her, his hand reaching for her hair before grabbing her hand, intertwining their fingers. He felt an overwhelming sense of regret and sorrow.

"You have to wake up, baby, I can't live without you," he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing it gently, his voice breaking.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N remained unconscious. The doctors were doing everything they could, but the prognosis was uncertain. Lando stayed by her side every single day, his heart breaking a little more with each passing moment. He whispered to her about the future they would have, the places they would go, and the love they would share, hoping against hope that she could hear him.

One quiet evening, as the sun set outside the hospital window, Y/N’s fingers twitched slightly. Lando’s heart leapt with hope. "Y/N? Can you hear me?" he asked, his voice filled with desperation and love.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly. She looked around the room, her gaze finally landing on Lando. "Lando," she whispered, her voice weak but clear.

"I'm here, love. I'm here," he said, tears streaming down his face.

"What happened?" she asked, confusion and pain evident in her eyes.

"You had an accident, but you're safe now. You're in the hospital," Lando explained, his voice shaking with relief.

"I was so scared," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"I know, baby. I was scared too. But you're going to be okay," Lando reassured her, holding her hand tightly.

As the days passed, Y/N slowly started to recover. Her physical wounds began to heal, but the emotional scars were deeper. She couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal and abandonment she had felt from Lando before the accident.

One evening, as they sat together in the dimly lit hospital room, Y/N finally broke the silence. "Lando, we need to talk," she said, her voice firm despite her frailty.

"I know," he replied, looking down at their intertwined hands. "I've been a terrible boyfriend. I took you for granted, and I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Y/N. You didn't deserve any of it."

"It’s not just about the accident, Lando. It's about everything that led up to it. The way you distanced yourself, the way you made me feel like I didn't matter," she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I was wrong. I was selfish and stupid. But I love you, Y/N. I want to make things right," Lando pleaded, his voice breaking.

"I love you too, Lando, but I need time. I need time to heal, not just physically but emotionally. I need to figure out if I can truly trust you again," Y/N said, her voice trembling with emotion.

Lando nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I'll wait for you, Y/N. No matter how long it takes. I just want you to be happy, even if that means letting you go."

She looked at him, her heart aching. "I appreciate that, Lando. But you need to understand, it's not going to be easy. You hurt me deeply, and it's going to take time for me to process everything and decide if I can move past it."

"I understand," Lando said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll do whatever it takes to prove that I'm worthy of your trust and love again."

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris blurb #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando x reader #ln4 fluff #lando norris angst

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jo-speaks · 2 months ago

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good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up.

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved.

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation.

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago.

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.”

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed.

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened.

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone.

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation.

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really.

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight.

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about.

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted.

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV.

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through.

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side.

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips.

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.”

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?”

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4.

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking.

You didn’t need him.

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone.

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home.

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks #qh43 #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x y/n

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matchamiko · 8 months ago

Note

hello!! could I please request prompt 25 with toshinori?

˚₊ ⊹ 25. The first makeout session that could lead to more + Toshinori Yagi

˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: dry humping, previous established new relationship, canon small-might, making out.

He was - grading papers? Finishing off a report on the last homework he set? Actually writing the next homework assignment in fact? Either way, his coffee table was strewn with papers, some in neat piles and some discarded none to kindly, caught under the fans of his laptop open on a word document baring names and grades and percentages he’s not really focusing on right now.

You came over a few hours ago with a bento box or two for the next days at school. It was just something you started doing for him, claimed it was because he wasn’t eating enough and that your love language was cooking food for people, but you loved that he would kiss your cheek and parade it around the school wrapped in its cute cloth with its cute bow. And you kind of never left, chatting idly with him from the kitchen while you brewed tea, something soft for him and a herby concoction for yourself, something to make you sleepy and all the more acceptable.

Toshinori could taste it in your mouth. The tea and something else, something distinctly you. Leaning backwards as you cup his sharp jaw, smiling when you hum and kiss his nose affectionately. There was something on the TV, something mind numbing and calm, a documentary about Geisha's he thinks but he's too focussed on his work, and on you. The futon you'd insisted on setting up for him was comfortable, soft and heavy at the same time, a perfect support for his back while he was tucked up by the coffee table while you lounged like a cat on the couch behind him, asking lazily every few minutes for a kiss. This was the first one on the mouth. You'd started on the back of his head, then on his long frazzled strands framing his face and then his forehead, then his nose and when you pecked his lips; Toshinori found himself chasing and chasing and chasing.

"Don't tell the kids that I abandoned their grades for you," he's twisted at a strange angle with his lips muttering yours, a prayer only for you to taste, "Aizawa'll kill me if he knew,"

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed and drawing your hands up the sinewy expanse of his neck,

"You have your priorities in perfect order, thank you very much," Toshinori allows you to slink down to the floor, following the droop of your legs and curling into his lap with deep, yearning sigh "I require kisses and you're supplying them, you're serving your duty to your partner,"

He laughs and then moans with the shape of your lips on his jaw,

"I suppose, if you put it like that," he looks at you for a moment, a soft smile stretching over his features and you return it, a little something extra in your eyes he can't quite make out. You two had kissed before, a lot and often but this felt different, felt like honey trickling down his bones and crystallising hot in his belly. Toshinori hums with the tracing of your mouth over his neck, sucking something mean into his delicate skin and he shifts, hands settling on your hips.

Hips that slot deeper against his and give this shy little shudder. A large slender hand cups the back of your head where you practically vibrate against him, the air suddenly palpable and sweet. You think he might ask you to stop, that you've gone far enough and that he's not quite ready for anything more intense, given his injuries and situation and maybe he wants you to go home or even take a break or even -

"Do that again, please," he's far from sober, drinking your lips and swallowing your gushing whimpers, desperate for the kisses and the licks he's come to know so well. These are different, headier, a little smoky and a little dangerous, slow and hard and all things moreish. His free hand guides your hips, into what he's not sure but you gain confidence at his request, undulating with such wantonness that he's the first that moans out loud. Punched and loud and startling, Toshinori flushes right down to his stomach, peaking from where you'd shoved your hands under his shirt, hardly denting your frantic kisses. His grip is harsh, demanding and selfish, smoothing to your ass and this time it's you that grunts at the way he massages a spreads you, slouching lower and wider against the couch.

"I want - I wanna -," you're stuttering but it's from lust, from the sheer magnetic want for the man beneath you, heavy lidded and panting open mouthed, "Please, can we - we don't hav'ta but also, y'know?"

Toshinori kisses you again, slow and deliberate, decisive with his answer; wordless save for a whimper and a jerk.

#miko.prompt challenge #miko.chats #kisses u !!!#toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #all might smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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mccardswife · 11 months ago

Text

You are enough

heyy! this is my first one shot so it is not the best but feel free to give any tips!

arsenal wfc x teen!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, bruise, angst, sh, a few cuss words, suicidal thoughts, protective awfc and fluff in the end. Please remind me if I have forgotten some! (don't read if you get triggered)

(not proofread so if any mistakes give me a heads up)

word count: 2144

enjoy!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Being a 16 year old professional football player is not the easiest thing in the world. Yes, you do what you love everyday but it has its up and downs. I signed for arsenal 3 months ago but I had no idea it would be that difficult. I don't feel like I belong here, all the girls on the team are truly amazing don't get me wrong, but it is so hard living up to the standards. Especially when I am me, just me and only me. I don't feel enough

After my alarm went signaling me to get ready for another day of training, the thought of going to training today dreaded me, and it has for weeks. Silence, I lay in my bed in silence just thinking of all the bad things that can happen today. If you are wondering where my parents are, the truth is. I live alone, yes, alone as a 16 year old in England. My parents has never supported me playing footy, not even when I was little. They wanted me to have a career that was meant for "girls" and not "boys", but that sounded bizarre. Football is for everyone, but they don't seem get that into their head. My parents kicked me out when they found out I signed for Arsenal, we lived in London, but since I got kicked out I had to get an apartment for myself. It was pretty hard but my best friend helped me and I am so grateful thankful for her. I have not told the team about me living alone for 6 months, they would go all protective and wanting to know why but I can't tell them, not yet. I don't want to be judged. Saying to the girls that I got kicked out of home, even thinking about it makes me feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

I lay in bed, in pain. Physically and emotionally. Last night, after I was out grocery shopping I took the metro home as always, when a man probably doubled my age walked over to me. I then realized that it was my father, he dragged me into a corner and asked me if I still was into all that "football shit". I got furious and started whisper shout at him, turned out that was not the best idea. He started going about me being a disgrace to the family, not only the family but the world, that no one is ever going to love me for playing football, and then he punched me right in my cheek. I felt thrilling pain in my face, but he grabbed my wrists hard and said in my face "You useless bitch, no one cares about you and never will".

That sentence goes through my mind over and over again. I was almost impossible to fall asleep last night, because of the pain I was in both physically and emotionally. What my father told me, got to my head and I was thinking. Maybe he was right, I am a disgrace, no one will ever love me, maybe if it would be better if I just disappeared.

Well, well. Got to get up for training and stop thinking. Seriously y/n, get your shit together...

I walked downstairs to the bathroom and got dressed and tried to cover the bruise on my cheek that now has gotten all blue, yellow and purple. It was really painful and very difficult but totally worth it when I was done and I literally could not see a damn thing. Then I did the same to the bruises on my wrists and after I tried to cover up the dark bags under my eyes but that was a bit more of a job.

Suddenly I got the urge, the painful urge. I took the hidden blade from the mirror cabinet and drawed lines on my right arm. One, two, three, four.

Then I looked at the clock. Shit, I thought. The training starts in two hours and we have breakfast together in the dining room an hour before. The metro usually took 30 minutes, I packed my bag in a hurry and left.

When I walked in to the facility I heard two voices yelling my name behind me. Lotte and Alessia walked quickly over to me. "You excited for training?" Alessia asked you. "Yes totally" I said in a lie, I think they saw that I lied because it did not look like they believed me at all. "What about you Less and Lotte?" you said to try getting the attention away from you. It seemed that it worked because they said in sync "Yes". Less and Lotte looked at each other and we giggled.

When we walked in to the dining room, everyone was there. I tried to brush off all the looks I got. Why does everyone look so suspicious today...

"Come here Y/n, sit with us", Leah said after I served myself food. Leah sat with Katie, Kim, Lia, Caitlin, Steph, Beth, Viv and Kyra. I walked nervously over to them and sat down in the seat beside Beth. They started talking and I just sat there quietly eating my food being in my thoughts until Viv said "Y/n, you've been quiet, are you good". They looked at me concerned, "Me? Yes of course Im good, just sat thinking about the upcoming training today". I lied straight through my teeth. "Okay, if you're sure. but you can talk to us though", Caitlin said. I just said a quietly thank you, and then we walked to the locker room and got ready for training.

We started doing some light jog then got into some training drills. I was already sweating, it was surprisingly very sunny outside today and I wore a long sleeve training jersey because of my scars. "Aren't you hot in that", said Jen to me. I just simply shrugged her off saying no.

I was so exhausted, my body is so tired and I really want to lay down. When we had water break I just laid down on the grass. Sweating, I rubbed my face because I was so tired.

Beth and Viv walked over worriedly, they have become my unofficial parents after my transfer to Arsenal. They looked shocked when they saw me. "What" I said in a panicked voice. "Why do you have a big black bruise on your cheek?" Beth said, "And on your wrists?" Viv said. "Is something going on at home?" Viv asked with a knowing look. "No, no of course not, why would you assume that".

After training everyone looked worried and concerned, my passes and shots got sloppier and sloppier, I was hurting more and more. When I was about to leave, Kim, Katie, Leah and Jen cornered me. With Beth and Viv looking guilty behind. They brought me into a private room and they started telling me what Beth and Viv told me. Then all of a sudden Kim said "You know, all the team has been worried and concerned for a while, I can't remember how many times the girls have repeatedly come and talked to me". I looked at her ashamed. "Why do you have bruised?" Katie asked, "I just fell" I said, the lie obvious.

I started scratching because my scars got really itchy, I really wanted to just disappear right there and then. Then Leah grabbed my right wrist softly and pulled up my sleeve, the last thing before I broke down was gasps from the girls. I started trying to make up excuses but none of them were having it, "come with us" said Beth, "We will bring you to the medical room and then we want you to tell us everything". I desperately did not want to but I knew it was no chance of me getting out of this.

When we got to the medical room they put me on one of the beds. My scars were infected, that is why they itched so damn much. Jen was cleaning up my bruises while Kim cleaned up my scars. I know the people who worked here could do it but I did not want them right now, it is bad enough that now the whole team knows.

Leah then said in her stern but soft captain voice "Now tell us everything". I tried to tell her that it was nothing. What Katie said broke me "Please babe, we only want to help you. We know it has been hard for you but please". Then I broke down again, full on shaking and crying. Desperately gasping for air.

I started telling them everything, how my parents are and that they has never supported me once for the choices I have made, that I don't feel like I belong here because I am only me... When I spit out the truth about me living alone for 3 months because my parents kicked me out and that they were abusing me for years before, I saw tears in all of the girls faces. It was a heartbreaking sight. I told them how I ran into my father last night and what he did and said to me and I started sobbing again and saying silently to myself "It is true, what he said. I am a reckless disgrace full kid".

"You are enough y/nn, I promise you babe" Viv said. All of the others agree but I could not help believing my fathers words. "Actually me and Beth have been thinking for a while, we have a spare room and big enough place for 3, and you are like our kid. I am being for real, we love you as our own family. All the team does, but we wondered if you wanted to come live with us?" Viv asked me. I was hesitant and I think Beth saw that because she said "We are not taking no for an answer". I felt a smile creep up on my face and as desperate I was trying to hide it all the others saw and started smiling too. I said to Meadema, "thank you moms". I realized what I said "shit fuck, sorry I did not mean to".

"Y/nn it is okay, you have no idea how glad that made us, you are like our kid" Beth and Viv said.

After a while of me telling them about my thoughts, how I have been feeling for the last weeks, they decided to get me into therapy. We have a therapist at the facility so we agreed to be going to her twice a week. "I am grateful for all of you, I really am but I just feel like a bother" I said quietly.

"No babe stop" Jen said, Katie walked over to me, she took her hands on my head and said "You are enough, a hundred times enough". "You are like a younger sister to me, it breaks me to see you like this, not only me but all of us. We and all the team loves you. You are the baby of the team."

"We will always protect you, and we will get your so called parents locked up." Kim said to me. "Not Viv and Beth but the other parents" Jen said in a playful tone.

"That I understand" I said with a smile of my face.

Leah asked me if she could tell the other girls and the Gaffer, she needed to anyway but it was nice she asked me. I said yes then she walked outside.

A few minutes later they all came in. Kyra, being kind of like my annoying twin ran over to me and hanged on for me for dear life in a bear hug. I started explaining to them a bit more, and reassured them that it was not their fault but my manipulative parents.

I also said that I called Viv and Beth mum and that I am moving in with them and Lessi and Laura said at the same time "about damn time". All the team broke out in laughter.

"I am sorry for not telling you but I feel a thousand times better now after telling you, I have been scared and not felt at home here for a while but telling you and knowing that I can count on you girls will help me. The whole team is kind of like my family I never got and I can't ask for more than that. I am so grateful for all of you, and I love you"

"We love you too y/nn", Leah said with the softest most heartwarming smile ever. "You are our family, blood or not you will always be family" Kim said reassuring.

"Always," Katie said

"And you are enough" the team said lovingly.

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sectumsempraaa · 5 months ago

Text

And Now I Do

Pairing: Draco x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

TW: none really, pure fluff

Synopsis: You and Draco have been dating for a few weeks now. When you get a PT job in Hogsmeade, he disapproves of how much time it takes away from being together.

Word count: 2k (almost)

Hello everyone 🤍 This is my first fic ever! I've been reading all your lovely stories, fingers crossed I am half as talented as you all. Sorry if it's long? I'm a thorough gal. Enjoy :)

“Ugh, do you have to?” Draco groans into your neck as he sucks on your skin lightly, giving a gentle tug. You giggle, playfully pushing him away with a hand on his chest.

“Yes, Draco, I have to go to work.” you respond, as he gives you the biggest puppy-love eyes. You shift away from him because you know the longer you look at him, the deeper you’ll be under his spell. You two had just started dating a couple weeks ago and, to your friends’ dismay, very much want to spend every waking moment together. But you had also recently gotten a job in Hogsmeade at a coffee shop to make some money for yourself, since your parents’ vault at Gringotts was not the most… plentiful.

“Why did you get a job anyways? I could think of a thousand other, better, things we could be doing…” his voice trails off as he climbs across the bed and grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles, using his other hand to tug you by your shirt closer to him.You hum and shake your head, pulling away and stepping into your shoes next to the door.

“Because if we want to spend the holidays together, I have to be able to afford it.” He gives you a sympathetic look and sighs, dramatically falling backwards onto your bed. A pang of longing hits your chest and has you turning around. “And…” you saunter back to the edge of the bed, climbing up to straddle him. You feel his hands touch your thighs, crawling their way up your skirt. Leaning down, you take his face in your hands, your noses grazing. “All the gifts I want to get you.”

He smirks and sits up, engulfing your lips with his. The kiss becomes deeper with each stolen breath, you feel his hands grab your ass as your arms wrap around his neck. He smiles devilishly and whispers into your mouth, “I still think it’s rubbish.”

—

It’s been a few weeks now, the holidays drawing nearer. Late November at Hogwarts was always your favorite, and now it’s even better with Draco constantly cuddling you and taking any opportunity to wrap you in his Slytherin robes.

You’re in the library working on yet another essay for Charms class when you feel a familiar presence looming over you. You glance up to find Draco with both his hands leaning on the table in front of you, his smile fading quickly when he notices the bags under your eyes.

“Love, you need a break. Please take a break.” He begs as he slides your parchment towards him, forcing you to stop. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Your vision feels delayed, eyes moving around the room, with no sense of time. It could be midnight or five in the morning. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, working endlessly to catch up on school after your shift. You work nearly every day now until 8pm, usually starting assignments and working on them late into the night. It hasn’t become uncommon for you to fall asleep in the library or in an empty classroom.

“I’m fine, really, I just…” your voice fades to a whisper as your eyes start to close. Draco taps a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“Sweetheart, someone who forgets to take off their work uniform before diving into hours of homework isn’t fine.” You look down and notice you’re still wearing your apron from the coffee shop, covered in tea and food stains. Sighing, you lift your hands to your face, despite being too tired to be embarrassed.

“That’s it. I can’t stand to see you like this anymore. You’re not going to work tomorrow.” You hear him speak but it sounds so far away through the brain fog in your head.

“Can’t call out…” is all you could get out before your vocal cords give up.

You feel Draco walk behind you and start to untie your apron, resting it on his shoulder as he helps you out of your seat. “Arms, love.” He says as you wrap them around his neck, submitting to his instruction. He picks you up with one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. The last thing you remember is snuggling your face against his shoulder and breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne before you drifted off.

—

You wake up the next morning, but not in your room. You recognize the dark green wallpaper instantly as you raise your head off the pillow. You grab Draco’s watch off his nightstand and nearly fall out of bed when you see the time.

“Oh my god, shit, shit, shit,” you curse under your breath, looking around the room frantically to find you’re alone. You grab your apron off the back of his armchair and bolt for the door, trying not to think about how late you are for your Saturday opening shift. You make it to the common room and slam into someone while rounding the corner, yelling in the midst of your rush.

“FUCK, Theo!” you shout as his eyes widen and a boyish laugh comes out of his mouth as he steadies you with his arms on your shoulders.

“Didn’t know the angelic Hufflepuff could curse,” he says while looking down at you. Your face turning red, you blow past him to the common room door. He starts calling after you again but you have no time to listen.

“No need to run, cara mia…”

—

Entirely out of breath, you sprint your way off school grounds and all the way to Hogsmeade, trying to ignore the mess of hair sitting on top of your head and the racing heart beating in your chest. Right as you approach the door to the shop, you stop suddenly in your path when it opens in front of you, revealing a Draco that looks a little too pleased with himself.

“What… what are you…” you attempt to speak, choking on the dry air as it tries to fill your aching lungs. “Why didn’t you… wake me up?...” you manage to ask with a hand on your chest and the other on your knee.

Draco takes you in his arms, waiting a minute before giving you an explanation. “First, you need to come back down to Earth. Then I’ll explain. Gods, you look-”

“Careful.” You manage to interrupt him before he finishes the thought, throwing an angered glare up at him.

“Rested. Beautiful, and rested.” he says to you gently, enough to make you melt as he tucks a hair behind your ear while you catch your breath. He cups a hand on your cheek and you notice the smirk that hasn’t left his face since he walked out of the shop.

“Something’s up. What did you do?” you ask urgently, looking quickly between him and the shop.

“Why does everyone always assume I’m up to no good?” he jokes, earning him another angry glare from you.

“Maybe you are!” your eyes go a little wide as the volume of your voice surprises you. He takes a step closer to you, eyes narrowing, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him.

“Maybe I can’t stand to see you crumbling before me every night, maybe I’m tired of saying hello to my girlfriend in passing. Maybe I’m selfish and want you all to myself,” his words slow to a halt before giving you a knowing look. “And now I do.”

He lets go of your face, letting you step back with a face full of confusion. Eyebrows furrowed, you grow silent as you notice the shop owner behind the counter through the windows doing the side work you normally do each morning. Draco interrupts your puzzled thoughts by holding up a piece of paper to your face.

“I gave your two weeks.”

“You… what?” Your brain nearly shuts down. This isn’t real.

“Here.” He hands you an envelope, which you hesitate to take. Opening it slowly, your gut tells you that you already know what this is.

“I took your earnings to Gringotts this morning. The cash in your book bag. You can’t be carrying that kind of money around. We opened an account for you.”

“...we?”

“My father might have helped. Not many people can manipulate the bank, love.” You know he’s making playful banter but you’re still working hard to put the pieces together. You stare down at the check, watching a tear fall down to it, marking the paper. You didn’t have to ask about the extra couple of zeros that magically appeared next to what you actually earned.

“Don’t argue with me. You’ll lose. Let me, let us, take care of you. We can and we want to.” he says gently.

You look up from the check and receipts to the boy standing before you. A stern look on his face tells you enough. He’s right. You’re overworked, underpaid, and on the brink of failing classes. And maybe worst of all, you rarely get to spend time together. This isn’t benefiting anyone anymore. You just feel guilty that it took another person to fix it before you.

“Darling, as much as I’m a fan of the dramatics, I am starting to worry your silence is an indication of my quick and impending death.” he jokes, rubbing his chin with his hands.

“Okay.” you whisper.

He grabs a curl laying on your shoulder and twists it around his fingers. “Yeah?”

You smile up at him, quickly stepping onto your tippy toes to kiss him. His arms wrap around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides. Your kiss claims him, the only way you know how to thank him right now. This is your man, your man who provides. When you pull away, he rests his forehead on yours, relieved at your surrender.

“Yeah.” You let out a small laugh as the blush takes over your cheeks. A feeling of pride grows in you as you realize how much you’ve earned this. He took a huge risk in doing this at all, knowing how upset it could have made you.

“Good, because you really had me thinking I was a dead man there for a minute.”

“Mmm, maybe not dead but… a stupefy might have crossed my mind.” He laughs and pulls you in for a tight, warm hug.

You take his hand and lead him away from the shop, down the street towards The Three Broomsticks. He asks where you’re leading him to and, with a bright smile, turn back to him, walking backwards momentarily to face him. Your hand still clutched with his, he swings it back and forth.

“We are, finally, going on a date. And it’s on me. Yeah?” Biting your lip, you lift your eyebrows, waiting for his response. This time, it’s his face that goes crimson as he flips his hair, adjusting the buttons on his jacket to look more presentable.

“Yeah.” He stops and pulls you to him again, lifting and spinning you around this time, a loud laugh escaping your mouth. “Wait until my parents meet my girl. My wonderful, gorgeous, thoughtful, hilarious, and slightly threatening, girl. I can’t think of a more perfect Christmas present.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad, cause I was gonna buy you many, many more.” You kiss his cheek with enough pressure to make him burst into laughter again. He puts you down and looks at you seriously.

“Love, you’re smart enough to know I will beat you in that contest.” He reaches around your neck to untie your apron, letting it fall to the ground, leaving it behind.

Yeah, he will.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin #draco #draco fluff #draco fic #draco malfoy fic #draco x hufflepuff!reader #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #slytherin squad

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sixosix · 1 year ago

Text

YOU GOTTA LEAVE BEFORE YOU GET LEFT | LYNEY

warnings profanity, angsty fighting (violence but it’s not descriptive), 3.7k words!

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The House of the Hearth is quiet around this hour, save for the soft snores coming from the rooms, or the clink-clink-clink of your polearm when hitting your arms. Lynette has already crashed somewhere, but Lyney can’t sleep a wink. At least, if you asked him what he’s doing in the training room alone watching you, that’s what he would say.

Thankfully, you haven’t asked; didn’t even acknowledge when he slipped into the room.

Lyney hasn’t been able to stop thinking about a few nights ago when he saw a glimpse of something real from you. Your smile and his newfound determination to defeat you to see more of it.

Sweat rolls off your temple, your breath visible in a silhouette of a misty cloud. You strike the air as if it’s insulted you greatly. With one final swing, you pause, turning to look at him.

Lyney can tell something is wrong. Your eyes are heavier; your movements are more sluggish than usual. This is the first time he’s seen you in a few days, with him going out for missions and coming back to hear that you’ve been cooped up in the training room day and night, frustration rolling off of you in waves.

Lyney smiles instead. “Would you like to spar?”

Your gaze is intense. Lyney could see a flame sparking in them when he asked you. But it fades when you ask, “Lyney, ‘Father’ has just returned yesterday, right? Has she talked to you at all?”

Lyney blinks. “Oh, um. No, I haven't really seen ‘Father’.”

Your shoulders loosen. “Alright.”

Then, you stand before him—all Lyney needs as an answer.

He’s gotten better with a bow, his only form of weapon during missions when they get a little more dangerous than prying information. But he only gets to feel the thrill of it when he’s facing you, who’s always one step ahead.

He bows. “It is an honor.”

Something of a smile flickers on your face when he looks back up. “You always say that whenever we do this.”

Lyney beams, pleased to hear you speak to him beyond anything related to training. “It’s no lie.”

“Then,” you twirl your polearm around in a hypnotizing circle, and Lyney feels a near-maniacal grin creep up his face, “overcome me.”

Lyney takes the first shot, no longer surprised when you barely flinch as you swerve. You move as swiftly as his arrows. He fires another shot, then another, and another at a rapid pace. As expected, you dodge and deflect all of them with ease. Even when not at your full best, you can easily conquer everyone.

But Lyney’s been watching closely. His eyes follow every shift, catching each minuscule movement of how you favor one side more than the other or how your eyes are fixed on his weapon and nothing else.

You start drawing closer, your steps so fluid that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it. Lyney conceals a smile.

Your eyes widen when Lyney disappears into a twirl of cards, fading out of view, disappearing into nothingness, just like that.

You pant, looking around warily, “How did you—” only for your breath to hitch when Lyney materializes right behind you, kicking your weapon off your staggered grip and aiming his arrow right at your head.

His eyes are narrowed as if facing a real enemy—as if preparing to actually shoot with one wrong move. But that’s not right, because how could Lyney ever bring himself to hurt you when you smile at him like that?

“That was…new,” you say, breathing heavily. Your exhaustion is getting to you now.

Lyney’s lungs are doing just as bad. “Thank you,” he manages to say, sensing a compliment when he hears one. “It’s only right for a magician to have tricks up his sleeves, right?”

He doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s taken advantage of your state. Had you not been visibly tired, you never would’ve fallen for his trick. It’s victory, but he doesn’t feel as if he’s really won.

Now that you admit defeat, Lyney says, “Let’s take a break.”

To his delight, you murmur a yes. Now that’s victory.

The orphanage has become used to the sight of the magician twins tailing after you, with Lyney grinning smugly and Lynette close behind because, really, her brother was just tagging along. And some other times, they’ve become used to the sight of Lynette curled up on the couch with Freminet resting his head on her lap while you yell at Lyney to piss off, and he doesn’t piss off.

You’ve even come to admit them as friends. Mostly Lynette, though. Lyney’s just there because they’re twins.

Lyney pouts. “I mean, we’re basically friends now, right?”

You send him a strange look. “What are you talking about? No, we’re not.”

“Whaaat?”

You push his face away when he’s decided to come up all over your personal space. “I like your sister better.”

“Lynette and I are twins!” he whines.

“Completely different people, still.”

Lynette does a mischievous half-smile, blinking slowly. “Don’t tease him too much,” she said. “He’ll cry when it comes to you.”

Lyney splutters. “Lynette!”

Thankfully, the Archons are on his side. You don’t look too deeply into Lynette’s words, simply laughing and returning back to your food, chatting comfortably with his sister and Freminet. Despite all the bickering, Lyney feels warm inside.

“Lyney,” you say, catching his gaze. “Do you want to spar later?”

Lyney’s heart soars. “Yes, of course.”

In the comfort of their own room, Lynette strikes.

“Y/N is really nice,” Lynette says when Lyney is practicing tricks with his hat. “You think so, too, right?”

Lyney doesn’t know where this is going. He fumbles with the rose. “Mhm. Yeah.”

Tonight is particularly cold; the old-fashioned fireplace is barely doing anything. Lyney wants to check on the training room—it’s always much warmer there.

Lynette shifts beside him, and Lyney can feel the weight of her infinitely keen stare. “And you also think that you should tell me who you’re practicing those flowers for, right?”

“I—what—” Lyney’s face goes hot. “It’s for my tricks, Lynette! What are you trying to imply?”

His sister sniffs, as if Lyney is just an insignificant little thing. “I don’t know what you and Y/N have been doing lately, but I'm happy to see you happy.”

Lynette smiles at him. “I haven’t seen you like this for so long. I’ll do my best to not let anything take this away from you.”

Speechless, Lyney could only utter: “Lynette…”

In all honesty, Lyney doesn’t know what changed—doesn’t know how it shifted into something else he can’t quite put a finger on. Maybe it’s the fact that he and his sister have a home now, despite the fact that it’s an intelligence source for the Harbingers. Or maybe it’s…something deeper than that, something to do with you.

“It’s really nothing,” Lyney says softly. “You don’t have to do anything, okay? I promise you.”

Lynette nods, trusting her brother easily. “Okay. I just don’t want you to lose this.”

Ha, as if he could even bring himself to do that.

“Hey, is Lyney in this room?” someone yells, rapping on the door frantically. “Father’s looking for Lyney. Is Lynette here?”

“What…?” Lyney mumbles, turning to the window and belatedly noticing sunlight peeking through from the sides of the curtains. “Oh no. I didn’t get any sleep.”

“And ‘Father’ is looking for you,” Lynette says, amused. “Go, Lyney. Shoo.”

Lyney scurries off and nods politely at the person who had summoned him. He pads over to the dining table, where ‘Father’ is always waiting, desserts laid before her.

“Lyney,” she greets. Lyney felt the hair rise on the back of his neck, but also warmth spread throughout his chest, happy to see the person who had changed his and his sister’s life. “Come. Would you like a plate?”

Eating something sugary while he lacks sleep is not the brightest idea. “No, thank you, ‘Father’.”

“Alright,” she says lightly, taking a bite and indulging in her cake for a long pause. “You’ve been training hard, haven’t you?”

“Yes, ‘Father’.” He sits somewhere that’s a chair away from her, too nervous to sit close and too afraid to sit too far. He still doesn’t know what ‘Father’ thinks of him, or what to think of ‘Father’.

“And you’ve gotten stronger since receiving your Vision.” It sounds like a question, but that’s not right. ‘Father’ always knows what’s happening in the House of the Hearth.

“…Yes,” Lyney says slowly, unsure where this is heading.

Arlecchino leans back, pleased. “Hm. Good.”

Lyney isn’t quite sure what’s happening, but she asks about how he and his sister are doing, and they get involved in an almost-something-of-a casual conversation. Lyney’s nerves are on high alert the entire time, as if suspecting that this is a test. But after that, ‘Father’ dismisses him before Lyney can start being suspicious.

He doesn’t think too much of it. He leaves the room and feels as if he could melt on the floor from exhaustion.

Someone sees him and claps him on the back, startling him enough to wake him up. She glances at the door he just came out of and hums lowly. “Did ‘Father’ call for you?”

“Yes.”

“Ha,” she snorts. “Guess that’ll happen a lot when you're the next successor, huh? Lucky you.”

“Yeah,” Lyney agrees, though he doesn’t really know what it means. He doesn’t really care because at least ‘Father’ still wants to keep them around.

Most importantly of all, in this orphanage, Lyney has been having the time of his life. His sparring with you has led him to a tentative friendship of sorts. He can confidently say he knows you as well as he knows Lynette and Freminet. He’s been living in bliss, always pleased to have a home and a family to come back to, no matter how gruesome the mission they’re sent to.

He and Lynette have been seeing the House off with missions successfully fulfilled, and ‘Father’ has acknowledged their loyalty. Their worth. Whispers about successors get louder. Lyney pays them no mind—this is only them acknowledging his worth.

Days would pass. Lyney would perform tricks for his fellow orphans. Lynette would tell him that she’d rather not be in the spotlight. Days would pass. You would keep on overworking yourself, and Lyney would try to pull you away from it.

“Y/N,” Lyney announces his presence with just your name, standing by the doorway.

You don’t flinch nor even waver from your moves, nearly dancing with how swiftly you move across the grassy field. It’s easier to talk over the slash over your weapon this time, at least, with the sounds spreading across the evening air. Lyney can shout and he doesn’t have to fear waking up anyone.

He has to wake you up first, though.

“Y/N,” he tries again, his fingertips beginning to burn underneath the steaming plate. Despite his connection with fire, his skin is beginning to feel irritated—or perhaps it’s proof of how long he’s been carrying your dinner. “Your food’s gonna get cold.”

“Leave it there,” you finally answer, slowing to a halt. Your back is facing him, posture perfect, and Lyney’s star-struck even in moments like this.

“And you’re going to eat it?”

“I will.”

That’s what you said last time, and Lyney came back to a full plate, untouched even by ants. Lyney decides to stay, content with watching over you until you tire and give in. He’s been hearing that you’re relentless, not even sparing a single glance to anyone.

“Why have you been practicing so hard recently? Is ‘Father’ punishing you? Did you sneak out again?”

You deign to face him with a fierceness that could match the fire of his Vision. “As if ‘Father’ has even looked at me.”

Lyney blinks slowly. “...What?”

Then—it was that moment that Lyney realized this was more serious than he realized—you school your expression into something blank. He was asking the wrong questions. He feels like there’s an invisible wall between the two of you, even when he’s already far away.

“You all have something I don’t,” you say, lowering your weapon. “Tell me, Lyney, if I start slacking off, will she even look at me the way she does to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Your expression grows colder. “You wouldn’t understand. Who am I kidding? Just leave the food; I’ll eat it.”

“How do I know that?” he asks weakly.

“Take the hint, Lyney. I want to be alone right now.”

Days would pass. Lyney gets busier—his life gets more hectic. He starts performing on stages, small ones, but stages with props galore nonetheless. Lynette starts to feel more confident joining him, but she still has to work on her expressions. Days would pass. Lyney sees you less often. Your thread is snapping.

He enters the training room, where it’s been eerily silent. Not even Freminet nor Lynette tried to train today as if sensing danger from inside. But all he sees inside is you, staring silently at the wall, heaving.

Lyney sees your state and winces, your shoulder hiked to your ears and your expression unpleasant. “Y/N,” he calls out softly, “Are you okay?”

You’re really not, and it’s obvious, but how else does Lyney approach this?

You take a too-long moment to respond, eyes distant. “I’m…fine.”

Lyney hesitates, wildly looking around the room for something to distract you with. “Do you want to spar?”

“No.”

He should’ve known the moment he noticed you were acting strange: there’s something bothering you enough to leave you trapped in the training room. He tries to think hard about it, looking back at the first moment you were acting off. He comes up with nothing.

“Lyney,” you say, “you should leave.”

“No,” he says firmly. “I’m not leaving if you’re going to keep this up.”

“Lyney,” you say, facing him fully with a scowl. “That was not a question. Leave.”

“Y/N, I…” Lyney thinks and thinks. What has been happening recently? He’s been sent off for missions far too often that he hasn’t been able to notice this sooner. How long has this been happening? Why is this happening?

If anything, you’re far too prideful to show your weakness. To break down like this so suddenly… How will ‘Father’ react to this? Surely, she would put a stop to it if you were always next to her. But he hasn’t seen you next to ‘Father’ in so long. In fact, he’s…

Lyney stares cautiously. “Are their words bothering you?”

“They’re always talking.” That’s not a yes, but Lyney feels like he should take it as one. “Lately, they’ve been talking much louder than before.”

“That’s it, isn’t it? It’s about ‘Father’’s successor?”

Your mouth curls up in a snarl. “Don’t rub it in my face. You, of all people, shouldn’t ask that to me.”

Lyney’s heart sinks. So it was him who was causing this. “Whatever you’re hearing isn’t true.”

“What? Don’t make me out to be so stupid. You spar with me to gauge my weaknesses. You want to become the next successor.”

“I don’t want to become the next anything,” he pleads, instinctively taking a step back when you inch closer.

“That’s what it is, right? You see me as a challenge? So that’s what you meant?” Something is terribly wrong. You’re looking in his direction, but he doesn’t feel the weight of your gaze—like you’re only seeing through him.

Lyney frowns. He’s being cornered. “No, what—”

“I changed my mind,” you say, your shoulders tensing and the grip on your weapon tightening until your knuckles turn white. “You don’t want to leave? Fight me. Now. Prove that you’re worth more than me.”

“Y/N,” Lyney says lowly. “You’re not thinking straight right now. I don’t want to—”

You strike at his side. Lyney only manages to block it because of his experience with close combat from you, but this one is different. His eyes widen. That one hurt bad, leaving a buzzing ache on his skin. That’ll leave a bruise that won’t leave for weeks.

“Fight me,” you whisper, desperate, crazed. “Fight me.”

You demand it, but you don’t give Lyney a chance to react, attacking once again. Lyney blocks it off with his body and bites down a whimper of pain at the impact; at what sounded like the crack of bones.

“Y/N, stop—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl. “Bring out your weapon. Fight me. You’re the next successor, aren’t you?”

“Y/N,” Lyney says, trying to get a hold of your wrists. “Y/N, you’re crying.”

“I’m—” You inhale sharply, a sob wracking through your shoulders. “Shut up. Stop talking. You don’t know what’s happening. Fight me—just fight me. Why aren’t you fighting back?”

Lyney hates that you’re right—he doesn’t know what’s happening. He feels entirely useless. The person he looks up to, who has made him the better version of himself, and made him want to excel in everything he does for praise, is losing her mind right in front of him—he can’t even give you what you want.

“Why aren’t you fighting back? Isn’t this what you wanted?!”

“I didn’t want this!” Lyney shouts, moving swiftly to dodge the swing of your polearm. It misses him by a hair's breadth. Your fervid cries are making him lose composure. He doesn’t know what to do—doesn’t know how to make you stop.

“Pathetic,” you say, knocking him down. “This is who they’re calling the next successor? Beaten by someone who doesn’t have a Vision.”

Visions. Lyney learned that oftentimes, they dictate the fate and the potential of the orphans here. Those with Visions are sent off on more dangerous missions, drastically stretching their capabilities. And it’s true—Lyney wasn’t allowed to join Lynette on missions when she was the first to get one out of the two of them.

“You are still weak.”

“Shut up,” Lyney says, forcing bile down his throat. He doesn’t want to believe it. He wants to convince himself that you don’t mean that, but that means nothing if he thinks it, too. “Visions mean nothing.”

“To you, they don’t!”

Then, to Lyney’s horror, you swerve your entire body and strike to attack him with your everything. The bruises all over his skin sting, and his brain chants danger, danger. He panics, forcing a wave of fire to crash over and protect himself, but blue washes over his vision for a split second, and then he’s face to face with a tsunami of ice.

Ice.

Lyney blinks once, then looks down at his arm and realizes it’s been frozen over. It’s covered in ice, extinguishing the fire that’s enveloped his skin.

“What…?” he says dumbly, more confused than anything.

He turns back to you and sees you shaking uncontrollably, clutching a Cryo Vision to your chest. You’re looking at it as if it’ll bite you.

“No, no…” You look back at Lyney, eyes round. “Lyney—”

His eyes widened. “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I attacked you—you were just defending yourself—”

“Don’t console me, you idiot! I don’t know how to—get it off—” You cry out, roughly wiping away tears that are trickling down. The frost is creeping up on your face, turning your lips to blue. “Get away from me…!”

The numbness is getting to his arm, and he’ll probably get hypothermia if he keeps on ignoring it, but he can’t bring himself to do anything when you’re wailing and terrified of your own self.

Lyney’s hands hover around you, unsure if he should touch you and risk it. “It’s okay, I promise, just—just breathe—”

You slap his hand away, crumbling even more at the sight of his frozen arm.

“Y/N,” he breathes.

Then, your face is carefully blank, shutting him off—worse than any wall of ice. Then, you snatch your polearm from the ground and scramble away. Lyney rushes to follow after, but you’ve flicked your hand, and the door is blocked off by a thick wall of ice. Great. Just great.

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

“Fuck!” Lyney hisses, throwing his bow to the ground, causing it to crack and splinter against the cold tiles.

“Calm down,” he says to himself, thawing his arm with his Pyro. The sudden change in temperature hurts, but that doesn’t compare to what he’s feeling right now. “Y/N will be back. Calm down. Patience.”

It’s pouring uncontrollably outside. You shiver, shaking with each desperate step you take to get far, far away from the orphanage—from Lyney. The rain has melted the ice that’s crawling all over your face and fingers, but you can still feel it humming under your skin as if one wrong move and you’d kill something.

How ironic. Goading Lyney into using his Vision led to you getting yours. What a fucking joke.

You navigate through the crowd, hiding your Vision and speeding through. The gods have perceived you and blessed you because you’re worthy. Why only now? Why is it that it’s only when you’ve accepted you’re not worthy compared to Lyney?

You are still weak. You said it aloud, but you know more than anyone that it was not meant for Lyney.

A door swing opens, and you nearly slam onto it, if not for you skidding to a halt a second off.

The woman with brown locks and bright eyes who opened the door blinked curiously. “Hey, kid. What are you doing out here in this thunderstorm?”

You must look like a sight. Bruised and freezing, as flighty as a frightened animal. “I—U-Uhm…”

You’re given no script to follow this time. What should you say? What do you do?

You can feel all your limbs trembling. No—you can barely feel at all. “I’m fine. Miss. I was just… playing. I mean, running back home.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says, taking it upon herself to ruin her dry dress and usher you inside. “Don’t worry. Come. Seek shelter here while waiting for it to die down.”

“I’m fine,” you try to say, but the inviting warmth inside has your next words dying. “You don’t have to do this, miss… I’m…”

Dangerous. Nearly killed the person that warmed his way through your heart. You frightened him. You frighten yourself.

“None of that.” She pokes your forehead, making you blink up at her in bewilderment. “You think too hard for your age. Come, I have tea and spare clothes.”

You obediently sit. Perhaps tea will help. With how tight you’re clutching your Vision, its frost is beginning to crawl up your arms.

i found it rly interesting lyney doesn’t wanna become the next successor, so i used it for plot! >:) ty for reading!!! if u reached all the way here im giving u a kiss on ur forehead

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #x reader #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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kangaracha · 23 days ago

Text

love trending

---

pairing changbin x reader

genre romance, meet cute, love at first sight, humor, fluff

summary somehow, someway, seo changbin finds and likes a TikTok of yours, and you think that single like is the end of your fleeting encounter. but fate has other plans...

a/n hi, hello, hope everyone is doing well! so how many times do we think i can sneak post on roo's tumblr before she removes my access. lol anyway. this is her birthday present that i totally didn't write in literally two nights on a whim. and misled her about the plot (but not really). i hope everyone enjoys, and happy birthday roo :)

---

You'll be honest - most of the time you hate your job.

It's not about the people, or the place, but mainly because you would much rather spend your time doing anything else. Singing, drawing. The puzzle books your aunt got you last year that you never found the time to glance in. Dancing, above all else. Moving to the music, dropping on beat, and matching that rhythm perfectly...the views on TikTok didn't really matter to you at the end of the day, because at least you were able to do something that you loved.

Performing on your own time, doing your own thing. It was freeing, and exciting, and made your chest swell up in pride when you looked in the mirror and were happy with what looked back at you. You weren't someone held down by the push and go of life, when you danced, or after.

You were exactly who you wanted to be.

"You know I think your break was up like, five minutes ago," Seulji whispers as she slides into the booth next to you, shoulder bumping with yours. "Do you think anyone noticed?"

"Aren't you supposed to be serving customers?" you say without looking up from your phone, flicking to the next social media post. Your lips curve in a smile when one of your favorite groups pops up, starting a live. You click into it, and send a few hearts as soon as you're able to. Your chest fills - something small to help get you through the day. It was nice having silly little things like this to look forward to from a music group you enjoyed listening to.

"Only when they ask," Seulji quips, sliding closer, tone playful. She's been your co-worker for ages, and you got along better than most, sarcasm your second language. The customers always left gleaming reviews about the two of you, so the manager was lenient. You really couldn't complain.

Until Seulji glances at your phone screen and the teasing begins.

"Your boyfriend's doing a live again?" she questions with a knowing curve to her lips.

You blush, stomach twisting with an emotion you don't know how to name. Sure, you were a little too interested at times, but what was wrong with that? You weren't over the top, or crazy, or...anything you wouldn't want to admit. You were just up to date on their next shows, the newest album, the cutest member of the group...

"Stop that," you chide quietly, pulling your phone closer. "And this isn't even the right one."

At the end of the day, Seulji was just playing around, and you knew that. She had even gone the extra mile to try and learn some of their names, though she was still confusing one or two. But still -

"Oh right, sorry. Wrong arms," she groans, though she's still smiling wide. "Is this one...Hyunjin?"

You're happily shocked. Had she finally dived into the video folder you'd left sitting open for her a few weeks ago? You knew it was a slippery slope; it was easy to sink in once you were hooked. Maybe she finally took the bait. "Yes, actually," you say, turning to give her a look, "how did you know?"

Seulji shrugs, busy fiddling away on her own phone.

She's probably texting her boyfriend. It was all she ever did these days, and the thought didn't make you all that jealous. Or maybe it did? You weren't sure. All you knew was that they got together one Friday evening through a cupcake prom ask, and it was all Seulji did since. It was maybe the one thing she did that left a bad taste in your mouth, but what did you know? Maybe you would act the same if you ever got a boyfriend of your own, though the ten cats and barn idea was still something you were starting to prefer after every failed attempt at a date.

The bell above the front door rings a few times then, and you lift your head once you notice that the chatter around your hidden corner booth has grown. The line for coffee and pastries has grown enough that the two left behind the counter have grown frantic, rushing around each other. The manager is busy dealing with a very not nice-looking customer at the end, going over their receipt line by line.

You exhale and drag yourself out of the booth, throwing your phone in your pocket and fixing your apron as you go, strapping your hat around your messy bun. "Wish me luck," you tell Seulji, who gives a wave of her hand and a few words of encouragement in response before turning back to her phone.

The sudden crowd is easy to manage once you get back into the swing of things, and the noise of the small cafe has died down considerably as you turn back around to help the next customer in line, who was hiding behind the rest of the line in a baseball cap and a dark sweatshirt and baggy pants. A face mask covers the bottom half of his face as he greets you, eyes crinkling with his hello.

And something about his eyes, the tone of his voice, the rough edge - you swear you've heard it before.

For a long moment, you just look at him, lost in thought. Why did he seem familiar? You don't think you've met him before, because you were usually good with faces, but this was throwing you off. It was a nice day out too, why would someone be so keen to be hidden when -

"I might sound absolutely crazy but do I know you, somehow?" The words are flying out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you are mortified, but then to your surprise, he simply laughs and ducks his head, fingers fumbling around the crumpled money he holds in his hands.

When he lifts his head again, he's looking right at you, searching for something. After a minute that feels as though it lasts for eternity, it seems he finds whatever it was he was looking for, and leans in, one arm against the counter. He lifts a hand up to tug his mask down, and you're meant with the softest smile you've ever seen, and a face you would never forget.

Your heart jumps, and you wonder if you gasp out loud by accident.

"Oh my god," you whisper, barely able to contain yourself. But there's still a good amount of people in the shop, and he obviously left the house in the best disguise he could muster, so the last thing you want to do is be the cause of him being recognized by anyone else, especially if he seemed to trust you enough to reveal who he was in the first place. "What are you doing here?"

You're so dumb, you think a second after the words have left you, and you're preparing yourself for him to say it right back to you, but he simply chuckles and gives a small wave of his hand. "I'm hungry," he replies easily, grinning, an echo of a long-lost moment you swear you've watched on a few too many times. "Where else would I go?"

You're absolutely freaking out.

You can't believe this is happening right now, let alone to you. Oh gosh, what if someone sees? What if you say something too loud? You want to say his name but then you're too afraid you'll draw too much attention, and what with phones and cameras everywhere these days, but oh good god it's Seo Changbin in front of you and you have never felt more like a fangirl until this very moment.

"I'm - oh my," you stumble and stutter for a moment, and your face is burning hot, and your stomach is fluttering and your chest is tight, and all too suddenly you don't understand what is happening as your next breath falters in your throat -

And then a warm hand is gently gripping at your wrist.

"Hey," he says. Kind. Far too kind. "Take a deep breath for me." He pauses, and gives a tiny squeeze to your skin. "Can you do that for me?"

You nod, and then blink, once, twice. Your eyes lock with his, tracing his every feature. The concerned turn to the corner of his lips, the look in his eyes. The unruly curls that have fought their way from under his cap. The warmth of his palm pressed against your arm.

An idol is standing in front of you, and you've gone and made yourself out to be a complete fool. You're definitely someone special alright.

Eventually, you're able to push some air through your lungs. Your chest shudders with one breath, and then another, and another, until you're able to properly breathe again, and you exhale, shaking your head as soon as you're able to.

"I'm so sorry," you mumble, feeling ashamed. You're wasting his time, and there's customers still waiting, and you can feel your manager looking over at you like you've done something wrong. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean - I don't know what came over me."

Changbin's hand slips from your wrist. You miss the contact more than you'd like to admit.

"Please don't apologize," he rebukes, leaning back. He doesn't bother to put his mask back. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes," you're quick to say, moving back over to the register. "Thank you. Sorry again." He looks happier now, eyes locked on you. His hand lingers on the counter, money nearly forgotten. If you had no restraint, you'd reach down and hold his hand. Something tells you to just say what you want to say. You decide to listen to it. "Thank you for the music that you guys make. You're amazing, and you probably don't remember but you - you liked a dance of mine a few weeks ago. I just wanted to say that it meant a lot to me. Sorry for the cringey caption."

Changbin shifts, and then...is he...blushing? You must be going crazy, or seeing things.

"I remember, actually. You were amazing."

He moves again, and you glance down, trying to avoid his gaze. You feel like some giddy schoolgirl, and you needed to reel it in. A few minutes longer and your manager would be over asking what was wrong. Be thankful and move on, right? He said he was hungry, maybe he'd like a coffee too. You could do that at the very least. Maybe he'd -

"Can I..." he stops and sighs, holding his phone out now, looking over to the left. His cheeks are dark enough for you to not be imagining anything. "Can I have your number?"

You look over at him, and then down at his phone.

You take it.

And then you put in your number, and pretend you don't see the smile he tucks into his shoulder.

---

Logically, you know this is the worst way to go about this. You know you'll come to regret this in the morning, mortified and blushing. And yet, as he pushes you back against the wall, and kisses you like no one else ever has, you find that you can't really bring yourself to care about what you might think of yourself in the morning.

This isn't just some random guy kissing you - this is Seo Changbin. The Changbin. The one who sought you out of millions, billions even, of users and took it upon himself to like your TikTok. And not just any TikTok, but the one of you dancing silly and stupid, a cheesy caption dazzled with hearts and arrows around his name below it.

God, the embarrassment.

(God, the thought of him seeing you out of trillions - )

"Y/N," he breathes, hot breath fanning across an exposed collarbone, shivers racing down your spine. You hadn't even noticed him pulling away, so lost in...in all of this, speechless and dumb and flushed, and then he presses a kiss to the cusp of your shoulder, and you positively melt.

You want to say something, anything, but it's hard to talk when all you can focus on is the feel of his lips, and the warmth of his chest pressing against yours, and the curve of his arms your fingers can barely wrap around -

He bites down, and your cheeks burn at the sound that escapes you, pleasant shock coursing through your body. You feel his smirk pressing against your skin, before he makes sure to take care of you, and then he's back to kissing your lips, and you wondered how you even made it through the concert.

He's gentle. Kind. It almost annoys you how careful he's being, pushing close to the limit, and then backing away before he breaks it. He's a tease like this, and you're not sure if he's doing this on purpose or waiting for you to make the first move, so you decide to make things clear. He's kind, but you know there must be something else hiding beneath, ready to take control and leave you gasping for breath.

"I won't break," you whisper, pulling away just enough that your lips brush his in the intermittent. "Just so you know." He breathes heavily against you for a long moment, one of your fingers trailing along his arm before coming to a stop on his chest, resting your palm flat against it, right where his heart is.

You swear you feel it skip a beat, and wonder how your own doesn't stop beating.

The next moment is a blur of movement as Changbin wraps his arms around your middle and lifts you up, kissing you madly as he carries you towards the couch that sits on the other side of the room, your heart racing. He holds you above it for a long moment, and then tosses you down, enough that your back bounces against the springs, but he's climbing on top of you before you can worry that you'll tumble to the ground, thick arms boxing you in.

You look up at him as he stares down at you, getting lost easily in his eyes so close to your own. He's beautiful really, up close like this, flawless honey skin and an easy smile. Saying he's handsome doesn't do him justice when he's close like this, and you find yourself at a loss for words again.

How could anyone not like him?

"I like you," he says, leaning in close. "A lot more than I should."

A feeling you can't put a name to erupts in your stomach, leaving room for nothing else. You don't know how it's possible for somebody to be this charming, on and off the screen, and you don't know how someone like this decides on you when he could have anyone else in the world.

You don't know how that makes you feel, really, when he looks at you like you are the very world itself.

"I - I like you too," you whisper, though you nearly stumble your way through, his eyes crinkling at the corners as laughs, the sound encompassing the room. "A lot."

He closes the distance, his lips brushing against your own. "I noticed," he teases, and you wonder if your cheeks can get any more red. "Is this okay?"

You nearly laugh out loud at the question, though it warms your heart that he even asked in the first place. How would this ever not be okay? Your past self would be screaming, and your future self probably still is. "Yes," you say, eyes flickering between his own and his lips, "A million times yes."

He kisses you rough then, pushing closer, arms closing you in.

You kiss back and tell yourself that you won't regret one single thing.

#stray kids #stray kids smau #skz smau #seo changbin #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #skz #skz fluff

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stairain · 2 years ago

Text

Make Hate to You.

Spencer’s convinced you like him a little more than you’re letting on, but you’re set on showing him just how wrong he is.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, enemies to lovers, arguing, teasing, degradation, degrading names, blowjob, first orgasm, handjob, slapping, cocky Spencer, mean reader, reader talks a lot at the end but it’s because Spencer can literally not talk.

WC: 5.7K

“Hey, Pretty boy.”

You said as you walked into his office and leaned against his desk with your arms crossed. You had a smug smile on your face as you looked at him.

Spencer’s lip twitches slightly in annoyance, but he suppresses it with a small smile. He leans back in his chair, hands behind his head, and looks up at you.

"Good morning. Is there something you need?"

You could sense the irritation in his voice, and had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Need you to double check over these files for me.. Think you can do that?” Your tone is almost mocking as you drop a stack of folders on his desk in front of him.

He gives you a blank look for a moment, then gives you a subtle half-smile before he picks up the folders and begins leafing through them.

“Certainly. Anything to help, you know." It's subtle, but he just gave you a little bit of a dig there– just the way you hated.

"Anything else I can help you with?"

You cross your arms once more now that your hands are empty, and suck on your teeth as you look over his body.

“Yeah, maybe get yourself a new wardrobe.. Looks like you went to a library lost and found and called it a day.”

He chuckles a little bit and gives you a dry look. He takes the time to look over what you're wearing, and gives you a knowing smile while he looks you up and down.

"You aren't exactly in the position to call out anyone else's wardrobe choices," he says, but the amusement in his voice indicates this is all good fun for him. "Now, do you need something else, or do you just enjoy my company?"

Your eyes squint at him with a look full of resentment, and you don’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes this time.

“Trust me, I’d rather be anywhere else right now than around you..” As you finish speaking, you turn around to walk back to your office.

He shakes his head a little, chuckling to himself, but doesn't stop you from leaving. You can feel his gaze on your back for an intense moment, before you hear him speak again, his voice dripping with amusement.

"Oh, I bet you would," He says, his voice lowering. He gives your back a little wave before he goes back to reading the files, not looking up again.

When you hear him muttering under your breath, you stop in your tracks and slowly turn to look at him.

“Excuse me?”

The man looks up from the files, and gives you a smug half-grin from over the tops of his spectacles. He takes a little time to look you over, then takes a little more extra time before he responds, as if he's deciding what to say.

"Oh,"

He replies, drawing out the beginning of the sentence for dramatic effect. He pauses for a beat, and then gives you a knowing look.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He seems to find that answer quite humorous, because he chuckles a little bit, giving you a wink.

You slowly walk back over to him with an unamused look on your face. It was annoying how much he was enjoying this.

“Humor me, Reid.”

He gives you a mock-innocent look, but he smiles at your stern expression, and speaks in the same even, soft tone he always uses.

"Why, what happened to me getting on your nerves just a few moments ago?" The playful tease behind his words is more obvious this time, and his smile spreads a little. "Are you perhaps enjoying my company as well - even if you wouldn't admit it?"

You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Why would I enjoy your company? You’re nothing but a pain in my ass.”

He raises an eyebrow. He doesn't respond right away, though; he just studies you, thinking. He's good at reading people, and you know that, and you feel a little bit of that insecurity start to slip underneath the surface of your mask of confidence. You feel a little bit nervous now, because you think his eyes on you feel a little bit more serious than before, and you don't know where it's coming from or why.

"Really?"

“Yes, really. Do you need me to spell it out for you?” You cross your arms over your chest as you look down at him, your anger boiling over now. “I do not like you.”

His eyebrows arch a little at that, and you see the amusement in his eyes fade away. He seems to be looking at you in a new light, as his attention goes from soft-spoken and mild-mannered to slightly sharp with an intensity you don't often see. He looks at you for a beat before he speaks again, but this time his voice is different, a little lower.

"Tell me why."

You froze as you tried to wrack your brain for something.. Why did you hate him so much? You’ve never had to think about it before, and the way you’re silent in response says far too much. Your mind has gone completely blank.

Spencer leans forward, hands on his desk, his gaze still intensely focused on you. If he noticed your discomfort, he didn't show it. He just kept looking at you with that serious intensity, waiting for you to say something. It goes on for just a few seconds too long, then, because you've never felt anything like that from him before.

"Let me rephrase that," he says softly. "Tell me what I have done to make you hate me." His voice is soft, but there's an edge of steel underneath it.

You take a deep breath before answering, and you can feel the anger seeping back into your system.

“Y-You’re just so.. you. Always so cocky over everything, thinking you’ve got everyone and everything figured out.. You don’t know shit, Reid.”

Your tone is pure venom now, and he doesn't seem to mind that, because he keeps looking at you with that same calm intensity. When you finish speaking, he's still and quiet for a moment, and then he starts to smile slowly, looking at you intently. He leans back in his chair, and his expression is smug again.

"You know what's funny?" he says nonchalantly. "This might be the most honest you've ever been."

With a groan, you throw your hands in the air in frustration.

“See this, this is what I’m talking about.. You think you’re so insightful, god it’s like your ego is inflated 100 times more than it should be.”

He laughs lightly and leans forward in his chair, opening a folder as you speak. He gives you an amused little smile.

"And now we've circled back around to you enjoying my company."

That smug comment seems to be for the specific purpose of irritating you. The look in his eyes is mocking you, and he seems to be trying to hide the mirth in his voice. You know you won't be able to back down from a challenge, though. You just can’t.

“God.. How many times do I have to say it before you understand? I do not enjoy your company, and I do not like you. Got that?”

He gives you a slow, confident smile. It's almost infuriating to you, seeing that smug look on his face when you’re so worked up over this, and he seems to know it. He speaks softly in that same even tone, but now there's a little playfulness in it.

“You can tell yourself that," he replies, "but we both know it isn't true."

He pauses for a moment, closing the folder before leaning back in his chair, then looks at you directly.

"You're more fun when you're mad, anyway."

You dig your tongue into your cheek in fury and you shake your head to ground yourself for a moment. “Why are you doing this?”

Reid raises both eyebrows in surprise, and his smile grows a little bit - the look of smug cockiness on his face now very visible. He seems genuinely amused by that question.

"Doing what?" he asks bluntly. "Having a pleasant conversation with a charming co-worker like yourself?"

A roll of your eyes is all you give him in response to his comment. “You’re a so-called genius but can’t figure out what I’m talking about, really?”

Reid laughs softly and shakes his head at that, letting out a little chuckle.

"I was being facetious," he says, "but I take it you figured that out already. Your sarcasm detector must be very well tuned."

He's still smiling, but the amusement is fading again.

"What am I 'doing'? Really, lay it out clearly for me."

“The way you’re talking to me.. It’s like you’re talking to a child, like I’m some kind of idiot that you don’t take seriously.”

Why did you really care if he talked to you like this? You hated him, it’s not like you’re around him enough anyways for it to bother you as much as you’re letting it get to you now.

Spencer lets out a huff through his nose at that, and gives you an amused, cocky little smile. His tone is gentle, but there's also the hint of mockery behind it, and you know he's teasing you on purpose. He doesn't seem to be taking this seriously, but that only makes you feel more annoyed.

"And what about how you're talking to me?" he replies, his tone even more calm now, the smile a little bit more mocking and smug. "Does that not also describe how you're talking to me? Or is this just an instance where the rules don't apply to you?"

You take a heavy breath out of your nose and before you can stop yourself, you’re stepping towards him and striking your hand across his cheek, trying to shut him up and ruin that ego of his.

He takes the impact of your hand across his cheek and doesn't move a muscle. There's a red mark on his face where you've hit him, but he doesn't make a sound, and his face remains blank and emotionless. For a moment his eyes narrow in slight pain; then, he just smiles again, and the look of smugness returns, stronger than before.

"Is that all you have?" he asks, his voice still tempting you. "I expected a little more from you."

It’s just the two of you now in his office, and you quickly turn around to lock the door. When you turn back to him, you’re looming over his sat figure and grabbing him by the collar of his dress shirt.

“I am sick and fucking tired of the way you act so high and mighty, Spencer. You’re nothing but an ego inflated asshole.” Your free hand raises and slaps him once more, and you relish in the way his head jerks to the side.

Once again, he doesn't even protest when you slap him, and just looks at you with that same smug, condescending expression, letting you vent. It's enough to make you even more furious, and there's a part of you that's getting more and more frustrated by his calm, collected response.

In that way, it feels like he's winning. He smirks, as if reading your mind, and responds in that same calm and collected tone.

"Keep going," he says, not moving an inch even though you're gripping him tightly. "Get it out of your system."

You’re too clouded by anger to notice the slight tilt of desperation in his tone, and you listen to him, raising your hand and smacking his cheek as hard as you possibly can.

His head jerks to the side again with the force of your slap, but once again, he doesn't move or try to stop you. You might start to think he's enjoying this, if it wasn't for the slightly pained expression on his face whenever you hit him. You're tempted to just keep going, because it feels like you're at least getting your revenge out. There's no one else around, no one to stop you - you could do whatever you wanted.

Before he can let another obnoxious word out of that smug mouth of his, you let go of his shirt and push him back into the chair. The hand that was holding him strikes him in the opposite direction, and you can feel the sting in your hand with how hard you slapped him. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your lungs would give out with how hard you were breathing.

Reid's head flies to the side, and he lets out a tiny yelp of surprise as you push him back into his chair and slap him again. His glasses slightly fall down his nose, and he pushes them back up as he tries to get himself under control. You can see anger flickering underneath that mask of calm again, and that urge to keep going starts to bubble back up.

You roll your eyes as you cross your arms and look down at him with the same smug expression he’s been sporting for the past 30 minutes.

“What happened? No shitty comment to make about me? No condescending words? You were so talkative before.” Your voice is absolutely dripping with rage, and you can feel yourself getting angrier and angrier as you speak.

His eyes narrow just a little, but he still doesn't move or try to speak. Instead, he just regards you with that same condescending look as before, as if waiting for you to be done. You feel no remorse or sympathy for the way you've just treated him.

Do you feel proud? He certainly deserves it, and he knew that better than anyone.

Finally, Spencer speaks - he lets out a deep, tired sigh as he looks up at you. His voice is still quiet, and his expression is neutral. "You done throwing your tantrum?"

You let out an angry laugh at the audacity he has and look away from him before pointing at him in an accusatory way.

“You can just never get enough, huh? Always teasing me, pushing me over the edge, and still, you want more.. What is your problem?”

You had really thought those slaps would break him, make him shut up, but you were severely wrong.

He leans back in this chair, one eyebrow raised in an expression of disbelief. He looks at you for a solid moment, studying you with that same arrogant, superior look. When he finally speaks, you can feel the disdain in his voice.

"Me?"

He says, raising both eyebrows.

"What kind of person asks what someone else's problem is, right after they physically assault them multiple times?" The irony in his tone is thick; you know it, and he knows it, and he's daring you to respond to it.

“The same person who knows just how much they enjoyed it.” You dryly say, and stare down at him with a knowing look. It had taken you a while, but you realized he wasn’t just egging you on for no reason.. No. He was enjoying the way you hurt him.

That smug expression on his face falters just a little bit when you speak. His eyes go wide with surprise, and he tilts his head to the side, not expecting that at all. He clears his throat, trying to collect himself again. It takes him a moment, and he doesn't respond right away..

"And why do you think I enjoy it?" His voice is lower now, and quiet, barely louder than a whisper. It's a different kind of intensity than before. He really wants to know, and he'll stop at nothing to get that answer.

You raise your chin to gesture towards himself, and your eyes flicker down to the blatant show of arousal in his pants. The poor fabric of his slacks was being pushed beyond capacity, and you wouldn’t be surprised if any minute now the threads would start ripping over that bulge of his.

“Tight dress pants really aren’t your friend, Reid.”

Spencer’s eyes shoot wide, and his breath hitches. He looks down at himself for a moment, then he looks back at you, his eyes wide and his face suddenly, deeply red. He's a little bit flustered, and he seems to be at a loss for words for a moment..

Then he regains his composure, giving you a little wink and tilting his head a little bit as he speaks. The smugness is back in his voice, that self-assuredness like he had forgotten his embarrassment all together.

"You could just say you enjoy it too, you know?"

You scoff.

“Of course I do, why wouldn't I enjoy taking my anger out on you. You deserve it.”

He gives you a little grin in response and lets out a little laugh, clearly amused at that. "Well, at least you're honest." He leans forward in his chair again.

"Now, I have an idea. You keep saying I deserve it, right? So, why'd you stop? I deserve some more, don't you think?" He smirks again, and you can practically see the smugness building up under the surface. It wasn't just smugness, no, it was arousal. He was tempting you, and it was working.

It pissed you off to see him enjoying this so much, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but like it. After taking a few moments to think to yourself, you nod.

“Stand up.”

Spencer gets up from his chair, standing over you, and he looks down at you, still with that complacent expression. He crosses his arms over his chest, waiting patiently for you to do something next. Your heart starts to throb in your chest again. Something about the way he's waiting for you to act, and the anticipation in the air, brings that same excitement back in you.. But it's a little bit more intense this time. You're not sure why yet, though.

You can see him open his mouth to say something, but you’re quick to slap him to shut him up before he can even think of speaking again.

“Shut the fuck up.”

His ghost of words are cut short by your slap, and he grunts slightly from the force of your blow. His head flies to the side again, before he just regards you once more with that same cocky expression. The arrogance in his energy and the tension between you two is thick in the air now - more so than before. You can feel it building up between the two of you, like the tension is almost too much to handle.

"More," he begs simply. "Harder."

Your face twists in a wicked smirk at his words, and you shake your head in disbelief.

“Spencer Reid, renowned genius who thinks he knows everything.. Is nothing but a fucking slut.”

You accentuate your words with another blow to his cheek with your hand.

You strike him again, and you can see his smile grow as his head reels to the side again and his breath hitches. There's a hint of pink on his cheek where you've hit him, as his face heats up with the sudden excitement. He lets out a quiet laugh at your words, then shakes his head.

"Keep talking like that.." He moves closer to you, his smile growing, that amused gleam in his eyes. "You're just getting me worked up."

You can practically feel your heart stop at his words, and despite knowing exactly how he is, you were surprised with how forward his comment was.

“That’s why you enjoy our fights so much, isn’t it?” Your voice is low as you look up at him with narrowed eyes. “It gets you off that I’m so mean to you, doesn’t it?”

Spencer’s smile shifts a little bit, now an obvious, hungry grin spreading across his face. He moves in ever closer to you, not moving his hands from where they are. He looks back at you, his dark eyes piercing and insistent with that same smug look, an obvious tease and taunt, his ego starting to take over again.

He lets out another soft laugh, his breath heavy– and he speaks just as low as you did, "And what if it does?"

You can feel his breath between the two of you because of how close he was to you now, and you huff through your nose in amusement.

“Then I’d say you’re nothing but a whore.”

Your taunt only makes his grin grow wider, and his eyes light up with excitement. Then, with one swift movement, he moves his hands up from behind his back. He grabs you before you can even react, pulling you in even closer to him, so that your faces are so close you could kiss.

His eyes are lit up, his face flushed with excitement as he looks down at you - and the self-assured grin of confidence he has is practically all you can see.

"Say it again."

Your eyes flicker don’t to his lip, and you can’t conceal the way you nervously swallow at how close he is to you now.

“You, are nothing but a fucking whore, Spencer.”

Your voice is slightly shaky, but he doesn’t seem to notice. When you repeat your taunt, his grin grows even wider. His eyes flit back up to yours, and you can see that satisfaction in them– the sense of pride that he's gotten one up on you. He leans in just enough that your faces are practically touching - and then, he grabs you with both hands, and pulls you in close by your jaw. Before you can even register what's happening, he kisses you, his lips pressing against yours– and it's not gentle, and it's not soft, but hard and possessive.

Your eyes immediately flutter shut as his lips collide into yours in an aggressive, passion filled kiss. Anger and arousal was seeping into your veins as you kissed him back with just as much force as he was.

His arms tighten around you when you kiss him back, and his lips press against yours more aggressively as you respond, returning your kiss. He breathes hard and presses himself into you– the two of you are so close you feel like you could mold into each other. Despite everything, there's no denying how intimate this is, how intense.. Even the feelings of anger and hurt are overshadowed by the pure adrenaline and need of this moment.

As you push him back against a wall, your frantic hands blindly find the buckle of his belt, and you make quick work to take it off of him, and Spencer pulls himself even closer to you, leaning in hard as he kisses you passionately.

The belt falls down to the floor with a clatter, your hands getting tangled up in it a little before you take it off, and then you two are locked into each other, the only sounds to be heard are his heavy breathing and the steady beating of your hearts. It's intense; they're pounding in your chest so hard you feel like it's physically pushing you closer to him.

When your hands find the waist of his pants, you’re undoing the zipper as quickly as possible and pushing them down his thighs. You sigh into his mouth as you slot your tongue between his lips.

Spencer breaks the kiss, but doesn't pull back entirely– you still see that desperate, needful look in his eyes as he watches you do that.

"Need something?" He smirks, a teasing timbre in his voice, and he shifts his arms so that his hands are firmly on your hips - the same arrogant, teasing look he's been giving you the whole time. He knows what you're trying to do.

“You.”

Is all you say before you’re practically ripping his underwear down his body.

He seems to be caught off guard by your sudden forwardness. You manage to pull his underwear down easily enough, and he lets out a soft gasp when you do, a little bit of color flushing on his cheeks.

Then, for the first time all night, that smugness vanishes. He seems.. speechless, for just a second. The look in his eyes is still one of desperation, but you can see genuine surprise there too. He swallows hard, and then he speaks quietly.

"Okay."

You lower yourself to your knees in front of him with a smirk. The carpeted floor of his office scrapes against the fabric of your pants, but it only serves as a reminder just how painful this entire situation is.

“Got nothing else to say, Reid? That’s a first.”

He watches you, his breath hitches again as his eyes go wide.

"No.." he says, his voice a little breathless all the sudden. His face is flustered, his whole body tensing as your smirk grows. But before you can say anything else, he's speaking again.

"What are you waiting for?"

You lean in closer to him, and your breath ghosts over his already hard and dripping cock.

“For you to shut that smart mouth of yours..”

Spencer lets out a deep, shaky breath as you say that, and you can almost feel it when your breath touches him. He shivers a little bit at your touch, and his breath catches for a moment, before his eyes close and he leans his head back.

He's silent for a moment– and then, as if he couldn't help himself, he opens his eyes and lets that stupid grin take over his features again.

"Make me."

It's a taunt, a dare that he knows you won't be able to resist.

You don’t entertain his words, but instead you just lean your head forward and encompass his entire length in your mouth, hoping it would serve as enough of a warning.

He makes a strangled sound when you do that, and he then lets out a soft, breathless moan. You can feel the urgency in him suddenly build, as the smugness disappears and he tenses up. He's barely breathing, the whole universe narrowing to the two of you at this moment. His eyes are shut tight, as if he can't even look at you at all.

Your mouth is warm and wet–so so wet around him, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find out if he’s never experienced this feeling before. Your smile through your mouthful, and close your eyes as you slowly pull your lips up his shaft, moving over the tip and licking over the precum he’s been gushing ever since you pulled down those briefs of his.

You pull back and off of him, then look up at him with wide teasing eyes.

“You know..” Wrapping your hands around him, you start to slowly, teasingly, drag them up and down his rock hard member.

“You’re a lot more attractive when you’re not talking..” And you don’t give him another moment to think of responding before your hands leave him and your jaw goes slack as you take him into your mouth again.

Spencer slaps a hand over his mouth at the feeling, attempting to conceal the pathetic whimpers he was letting out right now. He was more concerned with not letting you know how much he was enjoying this, rather than being caught by anyone still in the building.

His eyes roll back in his head before he can think about it any longer. Shaky moans push themselves through trembling fingers, and he can almost feel his legs giving out under him.

One of your hands is holding him steady at the base of his cock, and each time you push your head forward to take him down your throat, you can feel your spit and his arousal sticking to your fingers.

He’s big, which was a shocker to say the least. He felt heavy against your tongue, and filled your mouth like no problem. Usually guys like him that were all talk, that felt the need to use their large ego to overcompensate, sported less than impressive dicks.

But Spencer, Spencer.. You’d let the way you could feel his cock in your neck each time you throated him do the talking. You could barely move your tongue to swirl around the veins that lined his length, and you could feel the back of your throat already bruising with how big he was.

The sloppiness of it all is disgusting, and god do neither of you care. You can’t find it in you to care that your lipstick was smearing all over your lips and flesh of his cock, and he can’t find it in him to care that every time you swallowed him whole, pools of spit dripped down onto his leather shoes.

“F-Fuck me..”

The man above you all but whined out. You couldn’t tell if it was an expression of the pure euphoria coursing through his body, or if it was simply a request. You took it as the latter, knowing your response would annoy him either way.

Pulling back from his shaft, you bring a hand up to wipe your mouth. A useless task, really, you know it’d only be a few more moments before you’d be covered in your own drool again.

“Don’t think you deserve that yet, thought you hated me, pretty boy? What happened?”

Your hand at his base starts to pull up his length, and back down, you repeated this same torturous pattern as your voice dripped with faux interest, you didn’t care what he had to say, you just enjoyed teasing him far too much.

Spencer removes the hand that was draped over his mouth and practically slams it down against the wall behind him, scratching at it as if it would bring him any strength right now.

“O-Oh.. B-But you th–think I deserve this? Thought you hated me..”

You clicked your tongue in response, he was right, and you were finally fine with admitting it. The makeshift hole you’ve made with your fingers comes up the tip of his cock, and you tighten your fist around it. There’s a grotesque squelching noise as you squeeze a mix of your spit and his precum under your grip.

“You do deserve this.. Not because I think you’re overdue for something like this.. Or because I have a little crush on you..”

Your grip only tightens with each taunting word that leaves your lips. His knees buckle underneath him at the sensation and you watch as his pupils are suddenly disappearing under those pleasure ridden eyelids of his.

“Because, I bet that brain of yours is full of nothing but mush right now, isn’t that right?”

Spencer reluctantly nods as he whimpers and you can feel the warm spurt of precum he shoots out at your words.

“You deserve this, because I want nothing more to prove to you that you are nothing but a desperate, worthless, stupid, slut.”

With each insult that shot into him, you paired it with an equally harsh stroke of his sensitive head. Wet noises filled the room and your ears as your fist moved over him faster than you’ve ever seen anything move.

“I-I’m.. Oh–Oh my–fuck..”

The feeling against the sensitive underside of his cock has him almost keeling over your body in pleasure, and he lets out the most desperate, pathetic whine you’ve ever heard.

“Isn’t that right, Reid?”

And to your surprise, his head is frantically nodding before you can even finish your sentence. He tries to babble something out, but his words are unintelligible as he’s battling with his moans and whimpers for a place to be heard.

His body is folded over at this point, but you’re determined to break him as much as you can for the time being, so you lean in closer to him when he tries to pull his hips away. You’re not even touching the rest of his length, you’re just solely focusing on abusing the soaked head as he cries and tries to beg for mercy.

“Please, please, please..”

Is all you can make out through his noises before you can feel his hips stutter and still as you feel your fist fill with his piping hot release. You let out a small moan of surprise of your own at the feeling of him quickly pumping his cum into your grip, and look up at him.

You’re met with wide eyes looking down at you, and shaking fingers covering his mouth the best he could. His glasses were fogged over slightly from how sweaty and hot his skin was. He was trembling above you, barely able to hold himself up at this point anymore. It was like he was just as surprised as you were to see his cum spurting out of his cock and spilling from your hands.

And surely, after months of pent up anger and hatred between the two of you, also brings pent up, everything. You feel like it’s an eternity before his hips finally stop stuttering and his cock stops pulsing and shooting out webs of cum like he’s getting paid for it.

Pulling back from his spent length, you can’t help but laugh at how much of the thick fluid there was. It was coating your palm and dripping off of his tip, almost weighing down his cock with how much there was.

“Jesus.. look at you, Reid. You always make this much of a mess?”

Your words seem to make him all the redder, and as realization hits you the longer he stays quiet, both your eyebrow and your lips quirk up.

“Don’t tell me..”

Spencer’s chest heaved up and down as he closed his eyes shut and pursed his lips. He shook his head and his mouth went dry as he spoke.

“Alright, then I won’t.”

Before you can stop yourself, you’re laughing in his face in disbelief. Your head bows down in amusement.

“You’re just on a roll today with how pathetic you can get, huh?”

He just stays silent and lets you tease him, hoping that you’d be done soon and you can go back to hating each other like you always do. With one last chuckle, you stand up off your knees and look at him in his blissed out eyes, motioning towards your soiled hands.

“Make yourself useful for once and help me clean up, would you?”

#spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #sub spencer reid #sub!spencer #sub spencer x reader #sub!spencer reid #enemies to lovers

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sen-ya · 7 months ago

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Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird ��

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

#my art #life after

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maysileeewrites · 21 days ago

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INVISIBLE STRING

Robb Stark x fem!reader || 17+

Summary: But somehow, you’d always felt yourself drawn to Robb the most. Almost as if there was an invisible string tying the two of you together. || Or: You, Robb and some unexpected nighttime confessions …

masterlist || w.c.: 4.2.k (oops?!)

tropes/content: friends to lovers, angst!! & fluff, Robb being a bit of a daft idiot (it’s a canon event in this fic), bantering & teasing; Robb and reader both having a little bit of a flair for the dramatic; some spice at the end (nothing too graphic though, just a good-ol’ make-out session)

AN: When I started writing this, I was expecting it to go completely different. Initially, I’d planned this to be quite smutty, with just a sweet little love confession beforehand. But whilst writing, I realized that there were so many different emotions that were preoccupying both Robb and Reader that going the full-on smut route didn’t feel entirely fitting for this fic. But don’t worry, I’ve got quite a lot of other fic ideas for Robb Stark! Hopefully you’ll enjoy reading this one just as much as I did writing it :)

When you wake up, the other side of the bed is cold.

Empty.

The bedsheets are still neatly arranged - unused.

Immediately, you’re wide awake, shaking off that dizzy, disoriented state your mind always is in the first few seconds upon waking. There’s nothing hazy or disoriented about your thoughts now though, instead there’s only this cold, bitter fear clawing at you as you hastily sit up, quickly adjusting your nightgown before getting out of bed.

Goosebumps immediately break out on your skin, because even though your nightgown has wide, long sleeves, the fabric is quite thin, due to the thick, incredibly warm furs you - and your best friend - always sleep under. Stepping into your slippers, you shiver, drawing the thin fabric of your nightgown tighter around yourself, but you don’t stop to pick up the shift you usually wear over your nightgown.

Instead, you step around the curtains separating your bed from the rest of the tent. Your heart grows heavier when you take in the rest of the tent - cold and untouched.

Robb isn’t here.

Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of dread in your stomach - this isn’t the first time this has happened, in fact, it’s already happened twice this week -, you walk towards the entrance of your tent, picking up one of the lanterns illuminating the tent and trying to think of where Robb could possibly be this time.

Hopefully he isn’t talking to the Kingslayer again, you think. But no, this already happened two days ago. Surely the Kingslayer can’t have wormed his way that much into Robb’s mind already, can he? But then again, this is the Kingslayer.

You shudder, not just from the bitter, cold night air hitting your skin as you step out of your tent, but also recalling that moment two nights ago, when you found Robb talking to the Kingslayer.

While your best friend had seemed less than happy at your arrival, a smirk had spread across Jaime Lannister’s face.

„Finally“, he’d said, totally unbothered by the glare on Robb’s face. „A pretty face I can put to the girl that’s clouding the young Starkling’s thoughts.“

„Don’t talk to her!“, Robb had growled, and you’re just as startled by recalling the anger and intensity in his voice as you’d been in the moment.

Later, when you’d made it back into your tent - back under the thick fur covers and back into Robb’s uncertain, tentative embrace - you’d asked him what the Kingslayer had meant by his words.

Though you couldn’t see it, as your back was pressed to Robb’s chest - one of his large hands splayed rather possessively across your stomach, the grip of his other hand on your waist tightening upon your words - you could practically feel him scowling.

„Nothing - he’s just trying to get into your head as well.“

And that had been that - at least for Robb.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to go back to sleep that night.

Suddenly, sleep had seemed impossible, with your best friend - though was that even the right term to adequately describe the relationship between you and Robb? - right behind you, his hands on your hip and stomach, his warm, even breaths tickling your skin.

So close.

Robb was so close to you - he has been, for some time now.

Even closer than what you’re used to with him.

Growing up at Winterfell together, you’ve always been close to each other. Thick as thieves, as your mother, Lady Catelyn’s maid, always says fondly. With Robb being just a few months older than you, it had seemed only natural to spend as much of your time as possible with the oldest of the Stark children.

Growing up, you’d done almost everything together. You, Robb and his half brother Jon. As little children, you’d played in the woods surrounding Winterfell, using little wooden swords to learn how to fight with a sword. You’d ignored your mother’s words that it wasn’t becoming of a young girl to spend all her time running around with boys, like a little wildling - just like Robb ignored his brother’s and Theon’s teasing remark when you tried showing him how to knit.

With Robb, it had always been easy to just completely forget the rest of the world and get absorbed in this little universe you two had carved out for yourself. One where it didn’t matter that his brothers and Theon were teasing him relentlessly that he was spending so much time with you, a girl. One that was neither his sister nor taken in by the Stark family, so really, there was no reason - at least in Jon’s and Theon’s minds - for Robb to spend so much time with someone that wasn’t family.

When you got older, a new undertone found its way into their comments, like when you’d danced with Robb during the festivities for his fourteenth name day or when he’d turned red like a ripe tomato upon seeing you in your newest dress that you’d gotten as a gift from your mother for your fifteenth name day.

But these comments had never really bothered either of you too much and they certainly didn’t stop you from spending as much as possible of your time with Robb.

Of course, you’d also spent time with Sansa, Jon, Theon and then eventually Arya, Bran and Rickon, yet somehow, you’d always felt yourself drawn to Robb the most. Almost as if there was an invisible string tying the two of you together.

Precisely the words your mother used a few months ago, when you’d told her that you’d be accompanying Robb on his campaign to King’s Landing.

„I know that there’s no point in arguing with you on this, not when dear Robb is involved“, she’d said, sighing, drawing you into an embrace. „But just know my dear child, that I will kill the young lord myself if he doesn’t bring you back home to me safely.“

And despite of the draining last few months behind you, the memory warms your heart and brings a smile to your lips.

However, the warmth doesn’t last long. It’s gone, snuffed out like the flame of a candle, when you see how dark - and empty - Robb’s tent is.

Fortunately for you, one of the guards stationed outside the tent - it had been you, alongside with Robb’s mother, Lady Catelyn, that had finally convinced him that as Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, he does need protection around himself at all times, and not just when he feels fitting - notices you.

You know the guard quite well - in fact, he’s the one who’d pointed you to the Kingslayer’s cage two nights ago and accompanied you there. He’s young, only a few years older than you and Robb, friendly and quite overeager to prove himself. If you recall correctly, his name is Gerad.

„He went into the nearby woods, my Lady“, Gerad now informs you, worry and regret coloring his words. „Snuck out of his tent some time ago, and when me and Ben over there noticed him, insisted that we do not follow him. He took his direwolf with him, though.“

You frown, sighing. This sounds just like Robb. At least Grey Wind is with him, though the thought isn’t as reassuring as you’d like it to be.

„He especially insisted that we were not to inform you of his whereabouts my Lady, he didn’t want you to worry or go after him.“

You just shake your head. Now, this sounds even more like Robb.

„Of course he did“, you mutter, inwardly cursing your best friend and his stupid reckless tendencies.

Not giving Gerad the chance to say anything else, you turn around, already walking away, ignoring the words he calls after you.

„But - my Lady, it’s dark and - and I don’t think you should go alone into the woods at night…“

Crossing your arms in front of your chest, trying to fight off the chill of the cool night air, you quicken your pace. Gerad is right - it’s dark and seven hells knows what’s lurking inside of the woods, especially at night.

But Robb needs you right now, and so, you swallow down your fear and tighten your grip on the lantern, as you walk into the woods. At least you had the foresight to grab the lantern, you think, as you stumble over a branch, cursing quietly when your nightgown gets caught in a root.

You curse yourself for not throwing over your linen shift over your nightgown, because even though knowing your luck the shift would have probably got caught in a root as well, it at least would have offered you some protection against the bitterly cold night air.

You’re freezing and your teeth have already started chattering, but just turning around and walking back to your warm tent and the thick, warm furs isn’t an option. Not when you still haven’t found Robb.

Just then, the light of your lantern falls onto a familiar silhouette and in your hasty excitement to get to Robb, you stumble, almost tripping over a branch on the ground. The loud sound of the branch snapping echoes off into the night air, causing Robb - it really is him, thank the seven! - to turn around. Grey Wind is by his side in an instant and though you hear the threatening growl of the dire wolf, he immediately relaxes once he recognizes you.

When Robb sees you, his eyes widen in shock, and instantly, he’s at your side.

Worried, he calls out your name. „What - what are you doing here? Are you mad? You could’ve frozen to death! Here, take this!“

Ignoring your protest - secretly you’ve always thought that Robb had a bit of a flair for the dramatic, because, really while it might indeed be freezing, saying that you could’ve frozen to death is a bit of a stretch- he immediately takes off his thick fur coat and wraps it around you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and drawing you into his chest in the process.

„I - I’m not - Robb, please, I’m fine!“

„Fine?“, Robb asks, raising his eyebrows, but he can’t entirely mask his evident concern for you, „you’re shivering, Princess.“

You’re so distracted by his sudden proximity that you don’t even protest the term of endearment that Robb often uses to tease you.

Using your momentary distraction to his advantage, Robb continues to admonish you. „What are you even doing out here, all alone at night? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to be walking through the woods, all by yourself-“

„I was worried about you, you idiot!“, you interrupt him, softly hitting his chest, finally overcoming your confusion, even though his hands on your waist and shoulders and the intensity in his bright, blue eyes still very much distract you.

„I - what?“

Robb sounds genuinely baffled at your words and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. You love him, you really do, but sometimes he can be a bit - well, daft.

Then, you freeze, going over your thoughts again.

The realization hits you like an icy wind on a stormy winter night in Winterfell: you love him.

At first, the thought doesn’t feel entirely new. You’ve always loved Robb, in some capacity.

But this - this is different.

This isn’t the gentle, steady kinship you’ve felt for him all these years, this almost familial kind of love.

This is much more akin to the way your heart was beating wildly in your chest that night a few years ago, when Robb asked you to dance with him on the festivities for his fourteenth name day.

Or the way you felt your palms grow sweaty when Robb first saw you in your new dress for your fifteenth name day.

Or the dizzy, breathless way you felt that one night last spring when Robb had gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, before leaning down towards you, his eyes unable to hold your gaze, instead flickering towards your lips - only for him to almost jump away from you when Jon had entered his chamber unannounced.

And the look in Robb’s eyes right now is not unlike the one back then. So full of emotion and intense-

Just then, Robb softly mutters your name. „Hey, you still with me?“, he asks, his tone light and teasing, but you can see the concern for you in his eyes.

You don’t answer his question.

Instead, almost as if your mind and heart had just been waiting for you to finally realize your true feelings for Robb, it’s as if a heavy, constant weight on your chest has lifted from you and all the words you’ve held back these last few weeks - all this fear and worry that have been gnawing at you - finally fall from your lips.

„What were you thinking, Robb?“, you say, voice colored with worry and frustration.

Robb’s blue eyes widen in confusion at your sudden shift in mood, but you don’t give him any chance to interrupt you, ploughing on instead.

„Probably nothing, right? You’re so … by the seven, you can be so - stupid sometimes, Robb!“

Robb frowns and he says your name in irritation, but you quickly interrupt him.

„Do you know how dangerous it is for you to just go off, sneaking into the woods, alone, at night? You’re the King, Robb! Just think about what would’ve happened if it wasn’t me that had found you, but someone else instead, maybe even an assassin-“

Saying your name again, Robb interrupts you. „I have Grey Wind with me. And we have guards stationed all around the Camp-“

„Oh yes, those same guards that didn’t even notice the first few times you snuck away at night?“, you reply frostily, raising your eyebrows at him.

„What - why are you making such a big deal out of this?“ Now Robb’s voice is colored in anger and frustration, but you don’t back down.

„Because you’re my best friend and I-“

And I love you.

The words are right there, right on the tip of your tongue, but maybe right now isn’t exactly the best moment to say them out loud for the first time. No, first you need to get it through Robb’s incredibly thick and stubborn skull that this isn’t Winterfell - this is war, and even though Robb’s first instinct will always be to protect everyone else first, he needs to take care of himself as well.

And you want him to know that he can always rely on you, can always talk to you.

Because even though Robb hasn’t really talked about it to you yet, you think that you have a good grasp on just what exactly it is that’s been bothering him so much lately.

„ - and I worry about you! Do you think I haven’t noticed how distracted you’ve been lately, Robb?“

„I don’t - you don’t need to worry about-“, Robb starts to say, but you quickly interrupt him.

„Yes. Yes, I do. And I think that by now you know me well enough to know that I will always worry about you, Robb.“

At this, Robb’s resolve finally breaks and he laughs sadly.

„I’m always here for you, Robb“, you say, tone much more gentler than just a few seconds before.

Robb sighs heavily. „I know, Princess, I know. I didn’t want to - this must be hard enough for you as it is and I don’t want you to carry this burden as well, I don’t want you to worry so much about me-“

„And so you thought it better to just sneak off alone at night?“, you reply, irritated. „You thought that wouldn’t worry me?“

At this, Robb looks at you rather sheepishly. „I hoped that you wouldn’t notice.“

When you inhale sharply, he immediately rushes on. „It’s just - it’s all so - it’s so much, all the time … and I just - I need - I need some time to think, to be alone, to just breathe and- I don’t know, everyone always expects so much of me and I know that I must sound like an ungrateful, whiny coward right now, but I don’t - I never asked for this - this responsibility. Not under these circumstances, I - I just want to avenge my father and to save my sisters and most of the time I feel like I don’t even know what I’m doing … I don’t - these people, they all call me their king, but I just - I-“

He breaks off, biting his lips in frustration and angrily shaking his head. „It’s stupid, I know. Which is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you any of this.“

„No, it’s not stupid“, you say softly, gently brushing one of his auburn curls out of his face. „None of it is.“

„But-“, Robb starts to protest, but you shake your head at him.

„It’s not, Robb. These times are hard for all of us, but especially for you. You’ve been thrust into this role without warning, under horrible circumstances. And for that I’d say that you’re handling things extremely well - the only thing I think you should change is talking to your best friend more often.“

Robb grins. „Oh, really?“

„Really.“

„Oh, and why is that?“

Robb’s blue eyes are alight with amusement and you can’t help but grin back at him.

Later, you’ll talk to him again, about all of this. It’s too much, too important to just leave it at that, but right now, both of you need a warmer, brighter moment.

„Because you need to talk to someone. And because it’s incredibly stupid of you to just sneak off like that, alone at night.“

Robb’s grin widens. „Well, if you promise to stop calling me stupid so frequently, then maybe I’ll think about it.“

You laugh. „I’m sorry, but it’s true! I love you, Robb, but sometimes you can really be a bit of an idiot-“

Your eyes widen in shock.

Already, you can feel your cheeks burning up.

You said it.

You actually said it, out loud. Just like that, without even thinking about it. Oh, by the seven, how could you be so incredibly - well, stupid?

Robb’s silence and the stunned look on his face isn’t helping, either.

„I didn’t - I didn’t mean it like - I just - I“, you stammer awkwardly, trying to hide your face behind your hands.

But then Robb’s hands are there, gently cupping your cheeks, and before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, he leans down towards you and softly presses his lips against yours.

For a moment, you’re too stunned, too shocked to react.

Then, you register what’s happening: Robb is kissing you. He heard your confession and didn’t turn away from you.

A soft, surprised noise escapes you, and just when you feel Robb starting to pull away from you, you throw your hands around his neck, reciprocating the kiss with so much force that Robb stumbles, caught off guard.

Chuckling, he breaks the kiss. „Someone’s eager“, he says, grinning down at you.

Your cheeks start to burn even more, and you roll your eyes at Robb. „You’re so stupid.“

„Didn’t you promise to stop calling me that?“, Robb asks, while gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.

„Promise?“, you ask, raising your eyebrows at him. „I don’t recall promising you anything-“

„Well, maybe you just need a reminder“, Robb murmurs, before his lips claim yours in a hungry kiss.

And if Robb’s idea of a reminder to stop calling him stupid consists of him kissing you senseless, so that every coherent thought in your head is washed away, then he very much succeeds with it. His lips move against yours and just when you can feel his tongue prodding at your lower lip, one of his hands trails down from your cheek, moving over your collarbone, your chest - here, your breath actually hitches and you swear that you can feel Robb grinning into the kiss -, your sides, until it settles on your waist.

Overwhelmed, you move your hands up from his neck, tangling them in his auburn curls, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of different sensations.

Robb’s tongue hungrily exploring your mouth.

His hand on your waist, his grip on you so certain and dominant that you don’t even care that he’s most likely going to leave bruises on your skin.

His other hand still assuredly cupping your face, his calloused fingertips softly moving over your skin.

Your heart, beating frantically in your chest.

There’s still a certain sense of wonderment within you, a small part of yourself that keeps asking whether this is actually happening. Because Robb kissing you senseless is all of your wildest dreams come true, and then some.

But almost as if in reply to your thoughts, Robb uses the hand that’s settled on your waist to draw you in even closer, until you’re pushed right against his chest and now, there’s really no space left between you two.

Even through the thick fur coat you’re still wearing you can feel the hardened planes of Robb’s chest, and something else, something harder straining against his breeches.

A soft, surprised noise escapes you.

Just then, you shift, trying to move one of your hands up higher, but then you accidentally grind yourself against Robb in the process. The chocked off moan that leaves Robb as a reaction leaves you feeling dizzy and breathless - and wanting to repeat that exact same movement in order to elicit that delicious noise from Robb again.

Feeling bold and brazen, you press yourself even closer against Robb, but just then, Robb’s grip on your waist tightens, keeping you in place.

Breathlessly, Robb breaks the kiss, looking at you with such an intense fire in his eyes that is in stark contrast to his next words. „Not - not here. I mean - I - maybe we should - go back … back to camp, back to our-your tent, I mean, I … “

You smile.

His curls are a mess, his lips are red and swollen from kissing you and his cheeks are looking rather flushed and pink, but to you, he’s never looked more beautiful than in this moment.

„You’re right“, you say, sounding just as breathless as Robb. Still smiling, you reach up to brush a few curls out of his face.

For a moment, Robb closes his eyes, leaning into your soft, comforting touch.

If it’s even possible, you feel your smile widening even more.

Robb looks so beautiful. So peaceful and serene-

Then, suddenly, his hands on your waist are scooping you up into his arms, and carrying you in bridal style, he starts walking through the forest, Grey Wind following at his side, ignoring your protests.

Hastily, you throw your arms around his neck for support.

„Robb, just let me down, I can walk just fine!“, you huff, but once again, he ignores your protest.

This continues all the while through the forest, and even once you’ve reached camp, he just smirks at your continued protest. Frustrated, you roll your eyes at him, even though you feel like you might die from embarrassment due to the curious looks the guards stationed around camp throw you two.

„Finally!“, you say, sighing frustratedly and crossing your arms in front of your chest, after Robb entered your tent and finally let you go.

Though your irritation doesn’t seem to phase Robb in the slightest - instead, he just grins.

„Really“, you continue, shaking your head at him, „I could’ve managed fine on my own. No need for all that fuss.“

Sighing, Robb steps closer towards you, gently tugging a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

„Look, I’m sorry, it’s just - this night … it’s all so - gods, I’ve loved you for so long and to finally realize that you feel the same way - can you imagine what an incredible feeling that is?“

For a moment, you’re too stunned to say anything.

Your eyes find Robb’s and when you see all his love and yearning for you reflected in them, your throat suddenly feels dry.

Biting down hard on your lip, you uncross your arms from in front of your chest and reach for Robb’s free hand - the other is still tenderly cupping your face -, intertwining your fingers together.

You know exactly how Robb feels. After all, it seems that you two have been going through the exact same thoughts and emotions these last few weeks.

„Robb“, you whisper, looking up at him.

You both lean towards each other at the same time and your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, so full of emotion that it’s threatening to overwhelm you even more.

When he breaks the kiss, Robb leans his forehead against yours, smiling softly.

„By the seven, you’re incredible. I love you - I love you so much, Princess.“

You press another chaste, soft kiss to his lips, still smiling so stupidly widely that normally, Robb would’ve already made a teasing remark. „And I love you, Robb.“

Robb laughs, the sound a bit shaky and uncertain, but still it warms your heart. „I fear that I’ll never get tired of hearing these words.“

You laugh. And then, because you can’t not say it: „Stupid“, you murmur lovingly under your breath.

Robb laughs. „Yes - but you love me.“

And not giving you the chance to come up with a reply, he leans down to kiss you again.

i really hope you liked reading this <3

tagging: (if you want your tag to be removed, just lmk, but I thought I'd tag you just in case!) @wrensical003 @2049garden @rheanyraaaa @amethystinie @vyctorya @dragontearsandunicornfears @heartofmortis @2049web

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maximotts · 7 months ago

Note

Are you just doing x reader drabbles? Because like 84 sorority Wanda and frat Natasha. “This is a one time thing” ahuh whatever you say bbgirl

hello hello here's your thing! It got to be like, twice as long as expected but that's okay!!

cw: 18+, minors dni; smut, soft dubcon, touchy Natasha, light spanking, oral from behind (w receiving), a hint of nerdy Wanda if you squint

“Nat.” Wanda called, the barest hint of warning in her voice, so little that Natasha had no qualms with ignoring it.

She didn’t miss a beat, sliding Wanda’s too tight gym shorts from her hips, catching the hem of her underwear and removing them in one fell swoop. When the brunette sent a text declaring her incoming arrival a few hours ago, Natasha assumed she’d end up in bed with the girl— just not like this. Wanda surprised her with needing a place to take her Russian Literature quiz, claiming both that her fellow sorority sisters were being too rowdy at her place and her distaste with walking across campus to the library for a simple online module.

But now she faced an unexpected distraction: Natasha’s constantly roaming hands. “Natasha…”

If Natasha heard Wanda, she was good at feigning ignorance, keeping her spot on her knees between Wanda’s legs, exploring her impossibly soft thighs with calloused hands. By all standards, she considered herself gracious, letting Wanda set up her bed, books sprawled around while she laid on her stomach in front of her laptop. She’d kept her hands to herself until now, even given Wanda answers to parts of the quiz; Natasha held out as long as she could.

“Natasha, stop it.” Wanda drew the line as Natasha’s warm breath hit the small of her back; she had no hope finishing her assignment if the other girl continued on. Not that her body agreed with her decision, the experimental touches drawing her attention much more than the last five questions on the screen in front of her.

The redhead pouted, an action Wanda would’ve been oblivious too if it hadn’t been accompanied with an indignant huff. Wanda might’ve been stubborn, but she was more predictable than she thought; even as she stood her ground, Natasha grazed one finger over the juncture of her legs and she twitched. “But if I stop, you’ll just lay here and make my duvet sticky.”

“I would not!” The protest was strong, but Wanda cursed her counterpart for being right, having been subtly rolling her hips into the mattress since Nat first sat next to her and started sneaking in those treacherous touches. And so what if she had; today was the last day to finish her quiz and Natasha be damned, she never missed a deadline. “Can’t you go play your game in the corner? I’m almost done.”

“Aww, but I’m playing with you right now, baby,” Natasha grinned, giving Wanda’s backside a painfully hard squeeze. She fell silent in favor of kissing over the round globes of Wanda’s ass almost reverently, covering the expanse of skin as dutifully as the brunette was typing. She took her time, savoring both the lack of resistance and clear frustration the girl under her fought with.

She thought she could deal with it, focus long enough to complete the last quiz question, but of course it had to be an essay question… just as Natasha nibbled along the crease where her ass curved into her thigh. It was so sudden and sharp Wanda didn’t think about hiding her shriek, “Tasha, please! I can’t think!”

In their months as whatever they were, Nat survived multiple kicks and elbows when she happened to push Wanda too far; a squeaky plea more desperate than dangerous didn’t fool her for a second. She wasn’t a bit surprised when she pushed Wanda’s knees up as easy as she would a doll’s, not a defiant push or shove to be found. “I’m only helping, princess. How are you gonna focus when you’re so needy?”

“I was focusing just fine without your help!” The tail end of her sentence fell off into a yelp, the sharp sting of Natasha’s open palm striking her proffered ass. Spanking was a fairly new thing to Wanda, not that she didn’t know what it was, but being on the receiving end… she liked it more than she’d yet admitted.

As if Natasha couldn’t tell after the first time she had her over her knee and was left with a whimpering mess.

She’d only done it now to watch Wanda’s thighs twitch, her sex now completely devoid of friction as she stayed in the air. Nat couldn’t wait any longer, had to get her mouth on the object of her own desire. She dived down, bending deep to kiss the other girl’s mound. “I’ll finish your stupid quiz for you later, just let me taste you.”

“Don’t you understand the word no,” Wanda sighed, well aware she was done for as Natasha’s tongue slid through her folds. As soon as she found her clit, Wanda was rocking back onto her mouth, spreading her legs further just to feel more. She knew she looked wanton, sounded just the same with all her moans, arms sweeping away her laptop to stretch them out and scramble for something to hold. “Would’ve been done by now if you weren’t so horny all the time.”

“You’re the one who came over looking good enough to eat, not my fault,” her voice was muffled, speaking an afterthought to sucking the sensitive bud into her mouth, sucking and slurping lewdly as Wanda’s back arched into the bed below. It didn’t take long for Wanda to drip down Natasha’s chin, hot and messy. “Fuck, I’ll finish your entire course this semester if I can taste this sweet pussy.”

“T-This is a one time thing… ‘m not a cheater-” Wanda prided herself in her good grades, earned all on her hard work alone. Natasha wasn’t the first person to offer their academic services, but she surely was the most convincing. She felt akin to a live-wire, her entire being shuddering each time the rough surface of Nat’s tongue dragged over her most sensitive areas. This was the first time she’d been taken from behind, but she knew better than to believe her own words that it’d be the last.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to work too hard to give Natasha a reason to fuck her.

“Inside… want your mouth..” Nat uttered a strained groan at Wanda’s request, licking the length of her one last time before backing up just enough to change course, sinking her tongue into Wanda’s waiting entrance.

Wanda wasted no time fucking herself on Natasha’s mouth, fingers curling into the sheets as she panted out her need. “Oh god, yes! Just like that, don’t move-!”

The redhead complied, perfectly content to let Wanda lose herself atop her, stiff fingers patting her full thighs to encourage the brunette on. Curling her tongue was Wanda’s downfall, thick muscle teasing her walls and forcing her over the edge. She held Wanda still, trapping her as she writhed and jerked, catching her name amidst Wanda’s cries and selfishly hoping anyone passing by the room could hear them. “Still want this just once, Wands?”

“Shut up and fuck me properly,” Wanda muttered, wiggling her ass against Natasha who was already pushing her sweatpants out of the way. One look back at her not-exactly girlfriend and the generous strap on set at her hips and Wanda knew this too would end up more than a one time thing. “I’d better get a perfect score on my quiz or I won’t suck you off until the next one comes around.”

#studying in peace in Nats room was never an option #seven things au.#wandanat #wandanat fic #wandanat smut #motts writes.#maximotts

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cuubism · 9 months ago

Text

physical therapy part 4

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

#a singular chapter in which dream has a good time!#physical therapy fic #dreamling #my writing #bit of a time jump bc i dont think i have it in me to write one billion physical therapy sessions XD like they gotta kiss sometime #long post

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