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vettelsvee · 2 months

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I ALREADY HAVE A WIFE | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask me anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x race engineer wife!reader

word count: 3450

summary: seb messes up on a press conference while his pregnant wife is there, and he also has to face a journalist that wants to try have a chance with him

warnings: this is based on THAT interview you know all too well (what are YOUR plans?). curse words, pregnancy and everything involved in it, talks of abortion, mental health issues (fluff fluff fluff)

a/n: this is part of history series (coming soon as is being heavily edited). it was my maiden series so... look carefully between lines because there might be some details you don't want to miss out. let me know what do you think of this pleaseeeeee you know i'm always waiting for your feedback, as well as comments and chats on that anon button please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated

“Rose Benson, for The Times. A question for all three drivers: it’s just 102 days until we’re in Australia. What are your plans now between… What are you gonna be doing over the winter break?

“What are your plans?”

Everyone in the room was no surprised by Seb’s answer. Laughter started to fill the room, spreading quickly except for two people: Britta and you. You noticed her gaze piercing your husband, as if she were mentally scolding him, like every time she did when he messed up. You, however, just looked at him with a look of disappointment.

She was unsure about what she had just heard, you knew it perfectly.

Seb face immediately turned pale, as if he knew he shouldn’t have said that. As Seb’s not also wife, but also race engineer, you were used to this kind of behaviour and jokes, but today… it just hit different.

“Seemed to be counting the days,” he continued while starting to laugh a bit nervous. “Can’t wait.”

Max and Lewis, sitting next to him, joined in the laughter, making him laugh even more as the situation seemed to begin to slip out of his control. You were sure that he knew that having you just a few meters away, shaking your head constantly at the same time you whispered something to his PR didn’t bode well.

“Seb, you go first,” a journalist said. “What are your plans?”

“Uh…”

“Another baby?” Lewis interrupted.

You knew all to well that he tried his best to not tell anything. Apart from your four years old little girl, both of your families, and Britta and Antti, no one knew yet that you couldn’t try for another baby because the baby was already on the way.

You couldn’t take the risk of sharing the news and then telling people all over the world that you had an abortion, just as happened to you in 2016.

“Uh... well…” Seb stammered, not knowing what else to say. “Quickly done.”

Even though you were caught up in the laughter around you, you couldn’t control your growing nervousness, as well as your husband, and it kept getting worse every time you glanced at him. You crossed your arms, almost falling off your chair, and decided to rest your head on Britta's shoulder. You tried your best not to fall asleep, but the yawns continued leaving your mouth with no shame at all.

“If you need advice I know how to do it.”

Another mess-up.

Britta was already signaling with her hands to him so he stopped saying nonsense, totally overwhelmed not because she wasn’t used to it, but because she was maybe too worried about you. You straightened up as soon as you heard that, and instinctively placed your hands on your barely noticeable belly, thanking yourself for having decided to start wearing clothes a couple of sizes larger than usual.

“Keep pushing,” Max blurted out, immediately drinking from his bottle.

“Well... I don't know how long you two want to stay on free practice sessions, but... if you want…”

“I like free practice,” the Dutchman commented. “I'd rather stay there for now.”

Lewis and Max kept talking to him, but you knew he was trying his best to go along with the conversation.

After what felt like an eternity, the press conference ended. Everyone started to get up and scatter around the room, probably to chat with each other. The season was over, and they wanted to do the usual: say goodbye and wish each other a good winter break. Seb did the same, with the difference that he headed straight towards you.

You were still sat, eyes fixed on the floor while you fidgeted with your fingers nervously, tears streaming down your cheeks.

You felt like a complete idiot because, even though he hadn't meant any harm and your really knew that, he should have thought before speaking because he knew all too well that you usually got overly sensitive. You had been through a pregnancy together before, and although it was a vast world full of unknowns, certain patterns did repeat.

The constant desire for sex and the hormonal ups and downs you suffered were the most obvious.

Slowly, he approached you and, with utmost care, knelt beside you, placing a hand on your thigh. You didn't pull away as you usually did when she was mad at him, and you saw in his eyes that he wasn’t expecting you to react that way.

“I'm sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable, especially that baby talk. The last thing I wanted to do was to upset you but I ended up messing up, like always.”

You lifted her gaze, meeting his. He knew you were not exactly sad, but a bit disappointed at the thought that someone might have discovered the pregnancy you were trying so hard to keep secret.

“I swear I hate you right now, Sebastian Vettel,” you said, being completely honest and letting the hormones act for you. “You made me feel so bad, I swear, but…”

Your words came out broken, and tried your best to keep your cool.

He knew you stopped talking because your eyes welled up more than usual: you were on the verge of breaking down but didn't want to do it in public. He leaned his forehead against yours, your faces almost touching.

“I never wanted to make you feel this way, my love,” he whispered. “You, alongside our girl, are the most important people to me, and you know that perfectly well,” you nodded, though he knew you doubted it. “You don't know how much I regret not taking care of my words…”

You looked at him, perhaps trying to find the obvious honesty behind his words. You knew he was being completely honest, but once again, your insecurity was consuming you and acting on your behalf.

“Seb, I hate myself right now. Quite a lot, actually,” you revealed in a nearly inaudible whisper. “I hate being pregnant because I feel useless! I'm so bipolar…” you tensed up, though standing and positioning yourself next to him to keep talking without anyone overhearing. “I want to hit you, I want to cry, and at the same time, I want you to take me to the bathrooms and have casual sex like we were teenagers. Do you understand me, sunshine?”

You said that but actually no, he couldn't understand you because he didn't know what it was like to be roughly eight weeks pregnant.

“Y/N, hey, listen to me love,” he said, holding your face in his hands and wiping away your tears. “You don’t have to hate yourself for feeling this way, alright? We’re in this together, and you’re going through a lot of changes. It’s completely normal to feel this way,” he repeated.

You nodded, and even curled your lips into a small smile. You didn’t waste any time and quickly started hugging him and leaving kisses on his right cheek.

But that ended abruptly when you both heard a throat clear behind you.

Britta was standing next to none other than the pink-haired girl who had asked your husband about his winter break plans earlier.

Rose Benson, that Italian journalist who had become one of the best, if not the most prominent, additions to Formula 1 journalism.

“Sebastian, as charming as ever I see…” her words made you cling tightly to Seb’s arm, a bit afraid. Again, your insecurity appeared. “Can I steal you for a few minutes for an exclusive interview?”

Her gaze fell with a hint of disdain on your, as if your were an unnecessary part of the conversation she was trying to have with your husband. Immediately, he wrapped his arm around your waist and started making faces at Britta so she could help him to get rid of that reporter.

As expected, she refused, letting him know he would have to face an interview he didn’t want to do but that it was up to him whether or not he did it. She knew better than anyone what it was like to deal with the media and, especially, with professionals like the one in front of you.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I’m busy.”

“Come on, Sebastian... we’ve known each other for years,” she persisted, getting a bit closer to Seb. “You know it would be an amazing interview... like so many we’ve had.”

You were starting to get upset again. The only thing he did was placing a hand on your belly, and it somehow calmed you, but not for long.

“Benson, I’m serious. The only conversation I want to have right now is the one I was having with my wife,” he said, calmly rubbing your back.

“You’re disappointing me, Vettel,” she snapped, leaving you both in shock. WYou’re missing out a wonderful opportunity to be interviewed, in private, with someone like me.”

After hearing that, tears once again covered your face. You took a few steps back, slight pushing him and positioned yourself next to Britta, who didn’t know what to do other than wrap her arms around you while Seb was still watching the reporter start scribbling something on a piece of paper.

“Here’s my phone number, Seb,” she said in an overly suggestive tone as she handed him the piece of paper, which he took. “Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? We could find a more private place, and…”

As she got dangerously closer to him, Seb kept your eyes on you.

You hated how polite he was even though people acted in such a stupid way.

“Rose, I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen,” you said again. “My answer, once again, is no.”

“Have you never wanted to explore curves other than those on the circuit?”

“Why are you such a fucking bitch?! The only curves he explores off the circuit are mine!”

The woman’s insinuations had pushed you over the edge. Several people were already looking at you, and you’d swear some were even taking pictures or videos, so it wouldn’t surprise you if you went viral on Twitter that night.

Benson didn’t know what to say or do after your insult, except to end the closeness she had created by moving away from your husband as much as possible, trying not to arouse suspicion from the onlookers.

“Y/N, I think it’s best if we go get some air, what do you think?” Britta suggested you.

“No, I don’t want to go get some air, Britta!” you shouted again, breaking free from Roeske’s careful grasp. You were worried about you getting this upset, but you didn’t care at all. This wasn’t good for the pregnancy. “I want to tell this stupid journalist to learn to do her damn job properly and stop meddling in marriages!”

“Excuse me? Are you calling me a cheater?” she retorted, clearly offended. “You need to learn to control what you say, dear. You’re going to get yourself into more trouble if you keep this up.”

You were getting more nervous than hearing Seb during the press conference, you’d swear.

“Yes, you!” you snapped, moving further away as Britta tried to take you out. She must have noticed how pale you had gone. “Do you think Seb doesn’t have a girlfriend? Well, surprise! He married me last June and we’ve been together for nearly seven years, and we have a daughter, and...!”

The index finger on Seb’s lips was what made you stop from revealing your third pregnancy or who knows what else. Your expression revealed him that, although he had done the best to make you shout, at that moment you only wanted to kill him.

Britta began to guide you more quickly towards the door to get out of there, but your words still could be heard despite the distance with a frustration that was more than obvious. There was a point in your life when you started saying what you wanted, fought for what you believed was not fair, and you stopped being intimidated or afraid of anything or anyone.

That’s what probably made Seb fall in love with you more and more every day, even he actually thought it would be impossible.

When you finally left, Britta handed you a bottle of water and started to calm you down, but you just couldn’t relax. Now, you were still nervous and actually worried about what Seb could be saying to that woman. His body expressions, the ones you were seeing from distance, didn’t calm you as much as you thought, and when she handed him a piece of paper you completely lost it and, once again, started crying, leaning on a wall.

A few minutes, later, Seb approached you while you saw Britta leaving you two some space.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m so sorry about what happened there. I should’ve handled it better,” he started, his voice full of concern.

“Seb, it’s not your fault. She was way out of line,” you said, your voice trembling while trying to calm yourself down.

He pulled you into a tight hug, your body relaxing slightly against his.

“We’ll get through this, together, like we always do,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head, hoping to soothe your nerves.

His gaze meets your tear-filled eyes. Gently, he took your hands and started caressing them with his thumbs, knowing how much it relaxed you in moments of distress like this.

"Thanks for taking care of her for me, Britta," Seb said, turning around to thank your second mother once more for looking after you and sparing you any trouble.

You wanted to say something to him, but as soon as Seb turned his back again you, he got closer and closed the distance between you two, pressing his lips to yours.

You ended up forcing yourself to pull away not because you might get horny,because you're not used to showing affection in public unless it's a completely special occasion. The world knows you only hold hands lightly or maybe kiss on the cheek, out of respect for your profession and, above all, so that people see you as an engineer and not just a WAG.

Private moments were exclusively yours, and no one beyond your loved ones and yourselves needed to know about them.

"What's that about, Seb?"

You were too surprised, feeling a wave of emotions invading you.

"The thing with Rose, or the kiss?" he asked innocently.

"Both," you replied shortly, then corrected yourself. "Sorry, it's just that girl made me feel like..."

You couldn’t continue. You put your hands over your face, but Seb pulled them away. There was no need for you to hide from him: he knew how you felt, and all he wanted in those moments was calming you and making you aware that there was no need for you to feel ashamed about anything.

"I only want you, Y/N," he brought you even closer and started touching your belly again, but now with more discretion. "In this, and a thousand more universes, and beyond life, whatever it is, and no matter what happens, I will always love only you. Just you, Y/N."

"Do you really love me? Even though I'm fat and ugly like I am now?" you wanted to know, doubting yourself as you focused on looking at your body up and down.

He chuckled softly at your comment. You weren’t not fat: your belly was just a slightly bigger than usual despite being in the first trimester because of your natural anatomy.

"You're neither fat nor ugly, darling, but it's normal to feel that way," he comforted you. "You're experiencing changes, so don't overthink, Y/N. You’re a superhero: you’re creating a whole baby in there"

"But I just... I feel like a bomb of emotions. I feel so... so stupid and contradicting myself all the time..."

"It's the hormones," he interrupted you. "Don't press yourself for feeling that way. Do you remember when you were pregnant with Emily?"

Before he could say anything else, he made sure that, aside from Britta, you were alone in the hallway. Seeing that no one else was around, he kneeled down and brought his face to your belly. He placed both hands on either side and started kissing it, causing you laugh.

"Hello, my little girl. How are you doing? There's a long way to go, but mom and I are so excited to meet you, as well as your big sister, who really wants you to be born just to play with you."

You know the baby couldn’t hear you, but you felt so happy Seb was trying his best to make you a little happier.

"Stop, sunshine," you started saying, taking his arms to make him stand up. "Seb, seriously, get up. They're going to catch us!"

There was no one around, and he even double-checked to make sure. However, he decided to listen to you to avoid making you more nervous. At the same time, Britta nodded for you both to follow her. Seb took your hand and followed her steps.

"Seb..." you started speaking with some doubt.

"What is it, love?"

"Why did you say my little girl before?”

He turned hid head towards you. He saw you blushing and looking a little lost.

"Because I know it's going to be another girl," he confessed to you, leaving you a bit puzzled. "I don't know why, but it seems, and I truly believe, that making girls is our specialty."

"I think it's going to be a boy, but it makes sense: the other baby was also a girl..."

You forced yourself to stop talking. You didn’t usually talk about the miscarriage you had about two years ago, at sixteen weeks pregnant, and although you had made great progress after nearly making an irreversible mistake, it still hurted.

They say you learn from mistakes, but if you had seen the clear signs of the person who ruined your lives and had taken measures much earlier, things would have been very different.

"How about we make a bet?" he commented, trying to change the subject while now wrapping his arm around your waist. "If it's a boy, I'll take you on vacation wherever you want."

"And if it's a girl, like you say?" you wanted to know.

"Then I'll take you to dinner at your favourite restaurant. The one you always want me to take you whenever we go visit your family."

You looked at him strangely, knowing perfectly well that what he said wasn’t really a bet; in fact, it's anything but a bet. Adding to that, his voice sounded so calm that it might have surprised you with his passivity.

Britta and Antti look at you both as Seb helped you to enter the car, as if they wanted to know what you were talking about. You look that he shook his head at them and immediately started laughing.

"And what are you laughing at now, Sebastian?" you snapped at him again as he sat next to Britta. "Are you trying to mess with me, or what?"

"What's wrong with her? Is she okay?"

The whispers from his training coach, who clearly wanted toknow what was going on without appearing nosy, made him laugh even more. He didn’t even answer him and directly looked at you:

"Start thinking if you want to go to Cadiz or Mallorca, and if you prefer a McDonald's burger with pickles and ice cream with ketchup and fries or your aunt's wiener schnitzel."

Your eyes lighted up with excitement. You knew that he was making you decide, but in the end he’ll do all of that, and more, for you. Seb was the best partner ever and took care of you amazingly, especially when you were pregnant or struggling with your mental health.

"I hate that you know me so well, Seb," you ended up saying, taking some candies from Britta's hand. "But I'm sure you don't know what's on my mind right now."

Of course he did, he knew you too well. You were just being horny, and your face showed.

"Y/N, I really appreciate you all," Roeske began to say as she looked at both of you, "but please: stop acting like you know what in front of us. Can’t you contain yourselves for ten minutes and then do whatever you want when you’re alone in your hotel room? Really, I’ll take care of Emily and I'll even stay all night listening to loud music on my headphones so I don't have to hear you moan all the time. Agree? But please: behave, kids."

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dead-boys-club · 2 months

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† kisses : shigaraki.

❥ scenario: kissing tomura. ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested! it is a whole mess.

✧*̥˚ some stuff *̥˚✧

tomura comes off as a rather aloof person; someone with many walls and deep rooted trust issues. so, if you're kissing me, we can already assume your relationship to him is one build over a good amount of time. it would be a very, very intensely personal experience for him. he's not used to physical touch by any means, so it would put him in an almost awkward mindset. he probably wouldn't fully know how to process being so.. ( god, i use this word a lot, i'm sorry ) vulnerable and close.

kissing him would be soft and slow. he would be hesitant, like you were something fragile, also trying not to fuck something up. he's navigating something new, so it would take time for him to get the hang of it. and, it would make him smile - which is a feat all in it's own. he would show you this small, gentle smile; a genuine expression of warmth and adoration that's incredibly rare.

i can't even put into words how soft this man would be over kisses. and, he's not going to be picky once he gets the hang of it. he would really, really enjoy:

moth kisses

forehead kisses

jaw kisses

slow make out sessions

in the beginning, he would ( idk, is this surprising? ) not be in control of shit. he would actually hand the reigns over to you and enjoy the ride.

the thing is, he's a really good kisser???? because any time he kisses you, he's kissing you like it's the very last time. he's got a hand on the back of your neck, fingers settled against when your hair stops, just.. drowning in the intimacy of the moment. his other hand gripping onto your shirt at your side - he'd have hell letting go.

he's obsessed. and, honestly, unless he's in a foul mood, it's the best way to distract or help him feel better. though, i should add, i feel as though he'd become just a tad bit clingy towards you once you made it to this level of intimacy.

if i keep going, i'm going to go down a rabbit hole of trapping him on the couch and kissing him til neither of you can breathe, SO - i'm going to slide down into a scenario.

✧*̥˚ tiny things *̥˚✧

❥ moth kisses: ( so, do you remember the last time we actually saw him play a game? no? me either but- ) moth kisses are mostly to attempt to annoy him, which.. may only actually work once or twice. the type of kisses you give when interrupting him. when you just cup his face and kiss all over, quickly, not giving him a chance to do anything about it.

❥ forehead kisses: god, please, give him forehead kisses. he really appreciates them in the morning or before bed, the way you brush his hair aside and linger for a moment. i feel like this is a gesture that really makes him understand that you're there for a reason. and you're genuine.

❥ jaw kisses: when he's working on things, you generally know better than to fuck with him too much. so, as you're tucked up beside him, that's when you nose and press little kisses to his jaw. you try not to jostle him too much.

❥ temple kisses +: this is more of something he does for you. because it starts as temple kisses, his eyes closed as he layers kisses over the spot for a few seconds. he'll slowly move down until he's nosing at the spot behind your earlobe, either humming or whispering little things. very much a private moment that no one else sees.

❥ the aforementioned slow make outs: usually when this happens, he's either tired or it started because he was in a shit mood. he likes how it starts as just small kisses and then turns into closing his eyes, lungs clenching, need building but it's still going so slowly, it's nearly killing him.

❥ the one time you almost died: because it was in the middle of a fight. it wasn't your fault that when you caught his gaze, you both seemed to stop. however, when you plant an unexpected kiss on his lips before disappearing into the fray once more, he's briefly distracted and a little agitated. you were being reckless but fuck if he didn't continue on with wanting more of you.

✧*̥˚ first kiss *̥˚✧

withdrawn.

that was somewhat normal but he seemed even further gone than usual. his responsibilities and the pressure on his shoulders, it was starting to wear on him and you could see it. the way he sank into the arm chair, picking at the hem and staring off into space. it wasn't something you enjoyed seeing.

you shift from your spot by the doorway, approaching to settle on the armrest of his chair, lifting his hand into your hold. a few minutes past in silence, neither of you feeling the need to say anything. you could see some sense of helplessness behind his eyes, making you frown and squeeze his hand. he didn't pull away despite how he flinched, fingers curling into the touch.

'tomura..' you said softly, not really know what could be said in the moment, considering he'd never done too well with encouraging talk. 'i'm here, you know?'

it took him a second before his head turned, guarded expression briefly flickering to give way to something softer. he didn't say anything, gratitude seen in his gaze. it wasn't hard to identify the conflict going on behind his eyes, something you knew you couldn't do much to fix or aid in. the most you could do was attempt to distract.

you didn't think about it too much, or at all, when you began to lean closer, the distance between you shrinking quicker than your mind could keep up. you were really leaning far too close into the personal space of one of the most dangerous men you knew and couldn't really stop. your heart felt like it was in your throat the moment your lips pressed against his own. the kiss was tender and hesitant, lasting only for a moment.

when you pulled back, you weren't sure how to act. his eyes were slightly wide with bewilderment, frozen and free hand anchoring him to reality with it's grip to the armchair. 'why...?' he began, barely above a whisper, not trusting his voice. you could hear the confusion, clear as day, but beneath it - there was something else. the smallest note of longing.

his voice completely erased the mild panic that had grown and you just smiled, light and careful. 'because you matter to me? because i adore you. and, i want to be there for you.. in any way that i can be.'

you weren't expecting to make a confession and he surely wasn't expecting to receive one. thankfully, he didn't respond to that. 'thank you,' was all he managed to get out, taking in the words and warmth that spread through him at the kiss.

the room fell quiet once more, though the atmosphere shifted into something new. there was a newfound understanding created from the simple, yet profound, moment of intimacy.

and, it would only grow from that moment on.

#mha #mha imagines #mha scenarios #mha imagine #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #bnha

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cutiecusp · 2 months

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One last call.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x König x Reader.

TW. Talks of death, rivalry, filthy language, angst, betrayal, an established relationship, NOT a HOA! kissing, mild inappropriate boundary crossing. MDNI! (Also, I couldn't find the credits to this image, if someone does, lemme know!)

You were bleeding out.

A mission gone wrong.

Bad Intel means you were the only one left alive.

Hiding behind a crate, you manage to drag your body out of the snow, using the wood as a shield from the elements. Teeth chattering, you call Simon, your ex fiance.

"Ghost." He answers.

The breath gets punched out of you by the cold, so you take a minute to gather your breath, and your thoughts.

"Si." You murmur, just loud enough he can hear you.

"Why are you calling me?" He answers bluntly. Your relationship has been rocky for months, missed dinners, birthdays, missed milestones, the anger issues after a tough deployment... You had regretfully called things off before this deployment.

"I.. I got hit, Si. Dodgy Intel." You explain, pain low in your body.

You hear him grip the phone in his hand, his voice gruff.

"Fuck! I can get Price to get Nikolai-"

You interrupt him, wincing as you shake your head.

"No, It'll be too late, Si. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I'm on my way." Came the clipped reply.

You let out a dry chuckle.

"Always so bossy."

You pause, your breathing shallow.

You manage to roll onto your back, your eyes glossy with tears.

"Sorry, we never got to fix this." You say softly.

A gunshot rings out in the silence, before heavy footsteps crunch in the snow.

"I'm not alone." You whisper.

"Stay on the line, love. Don't leave me." Simon replies.

Over the next few minutes, the sound of singular gunshots ring through the snowy compound. A single pair of boots crunch through the deep snow that's piling up on the ground.

"Whoever it is, they are making sure people are dead." You whisper, fear taking over you as you realise you can't move, your injuries won't allow you to escape quickly.

Simons heart sinks.

"Play dead, hide in the snow, stay alive till I come for you, I'm getting in the chopper now.. please love. I'm coming."

All you can do is lie there, tears frosting down your cheeks as you realise you are next. The door to the storage room you are next to is kicked open, but you are silent.

Large footsteps sealed your fate as the imposing figure spots your boots.

"Oh, I forgot one." Came a thick accent, causing you to freeze.

"Ah, a little maus... far away from home."

He kicks your boot, pain throbbing through your body as you swallow a scream.

"Such a pretty one, too.." in your eyeline, you see a behemoth of a man, a hood covering his face, blood staining his entire front. He pauses when he sees your face.

"Ah, I've been looking for you."

Fear grips you, but you dare not move.

Your phone falls from your hand as he stands on your wrist, and your eyes finally meet his. Deeply dark, crazed and focused on you.

"Who's there with you, love?" You hear Simon say over the phone.

"Ah, Geist..." the masked man calls out.

"König?" Splutters the reply.

"In the flesh."

"Leave her out of this!" Simon yells, his voice loud through the call.

König laughs, squatting over you, pulling you by your tactical vest to pull you flush against him, his eyes roaming your body.

"She's a pretty one, would make such a lovely trophy." He calls out, antagonising Simon more.

He traces a gloved hand down your cheek, and you can't look away from him. His body is pressed tight against yours, and you can feel every inch of him.

"She's pretty broken, too. It looks like my men did their job in getting her to me."

Your eyes widen, he was behind this?

"Why?" You whisper out, cursing your shaky voice.

"Why? He took everything from me, my wife, my future... so I'm here to repay the favour. An eye for an eye, you call it?"

He removes his helmet, uncovering his face, scarred and war torn, pale and seething.

"Beg for your life, I want him to suffer like i did."

You shake your head, refusing to play his game.

"Don't touch her!" Simon roars down the phone.

"I'm on my way to you, and I'll finish what I started." He continues.

König laughs dryly.

You try and pull away, pulling his fingers off your vest. He grips harder, forcing you closer, his breath warming your cheek.

"I like a struggle, little lamb." He warns, his eyes deadly cold. You pause, your body limp.

"Ah, there's still some fire in you. I see why he likes you." He pulls out his pistol, the metal shining in the low light.

"I won't tell you again. Beg."

You spit at him, his cheek coated in your fluids. Scoffing, he swipes it from his cheek and brings it to his lips.

"So. Fucking. Defiant."

His gloved hand slaps your cheek hard before pressing his fingers into them, tilting your chin up, demanding him to look at you. He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips, surprisingly soft. Marking his territory, claiming a victory.

"I didn't want to do this, but he left me no choice. I wanted you for myself. I even tried recruiting you to my team a few times, but you were his.." he spits.

"Now, I want to give you the opportunity yourself. Come with me. I'll get you medical treatment. I'll give you a good life. Or you can die in the snow, I'll make it quick."

You hesitate. You weren't ready to die. You had unfinished business with Simon. But you were tired of being second to everything, tired of making excuses for him, tired of being let down. Your vision was starting to get spotty, and you knew this was the biggest choice of your life.

You look at König, and realise you two were the same. Your lives had been taken apart by a common denominator.

His eyes soften. He nods, understanding your unspoken answer. He picks up the phone, addressing his rival for the last time.

"I won." He says simply, while shooting into the wooden crate behind you, the loud gunshot echoing the painful cry from the phone.

Hanging up, he looks down at you, your shocked gaze never leaving his.

He gathers you in his arms, striding back to his vehicle.

"Time for a new life, little lamb."

Your eyes flutter as your body relaxes for the first time in what feels like forever. Almost missing the way he snaps a picture of you, sending it to Simon via your phone.

"An eye for an eye. She's mine now."

...........................

A/N I wasn't sure about this one. I'm not good at angst, but I hope I did the idea justice! Back to matchmaker later! Xxxx

@xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @livingoutsidethetardis @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations

@evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-love-letter

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon riley #ghost #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #konig #konig headcanons #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n

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ally-writes-many-things · 2 months

Text

Dicking you Down (L. Kennedy) 18+

Summary: just pure smut. Little to no plot

Words: like 2k?

Warnings or A/N: MDNI. Female receiving. Male receiving. P in V. Fingering. Eating out. Just finished watching a play through of RE2R and RE4R and I couldn't get Leon out of my mind. My first Leon fic. Hopefully it wasn't too ooc for him.

For what felt like the hundredth time, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at Leon. His cocky attitude seemed to have multiplied tenfold ever since he rescued the president's daughter. Some of the newer employees, hired during his mission, were openly ogling him. "Do you ever fucking stop talking, Kennedy?" you finally snapped.

The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at you in shock. "Oh, please. Don't act surprised. We all know it's true," you added, unapologetically.

You faced Leon directly and spoke your mind. "Enough with the hero act for rescuing Ashley. Any of us could have done it if given the chance. Many of us have faced far more dangerous situations than saving a teenage girl from parasite-infested kidnappers," You declared, rising from your seat and striding out of the room.

☣

Hours had passed since the encounter, and now you were back in your office. Admit it or not, you secretly wished for the same longing looks from Leon that he was giving those new employees. You'd be lying if you said you didn't crave his attention. The way his clothes hugged his muscular frame, driving you to distraction. Your thoughts wandered to how his strong arms would feel wrapped around you as he fucked you, imagining his touch and taste.

As you tried to focus on the reports sitting on your desk, the image of Leon kept invading your mind, causing a warm sensation between your thighs. You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, but they kept returning to him.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Leon standing there. "What do you want, Leon?" you asked, crossing your legs under the table.

"I want to know what your deal is," he replied, entering your office and making himself comfortable in one of the chairs.

The way he sat only fueled your desire. With one arm casually draped over the chair beside him, his broad chest was on full display as his legs spread slightly apart.

"You want to know what my deal is?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do," you replied.

You uncrossed your legs and made your way to the door, shutting it firmly and turning the lock. Though you were fairly certain you were the only ones left in the building, you couldn't be too careful.

You approached Leon and straddled him, feeling your dress ride up your thighs as you held his chin to meet your gaze. "My issue is I want you to fuck me," You confessed.

Leon's hands eagerly grasped your thighs, lifting your dress. "I thought you couldn't stand me," his voice was low.

"I never said I hated you. Sure, you can be annoying, but that doesn't change the fact that I've been craving you for a while," you admitted.

After a moment of silence, Leon pressed his lips roughly against yours.

Your fingers weaved through his hair as he roughly guided your hips to grind against him.

He bit on your lower lip, wanting access. You obliged, parting your lips as his tongue explored your mouth, deliciously savory flavor that filled your taste buds.

His lips traveled along your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. He slowly licked from the top to the bottom of your neck, before biting down just above where your neck met your shoulder. As his teeth sank into your skin, you couldn't help but buck against him, eliciting a moan from his lips. Breathless, he asked, "Are we really doing this here?"

"We're the only ones here, aren't we?"

"Yeah.”

You slipped off his lap and your hand slid up his pants, feeling the outline of his boner. "Do you want to go back to my place, yours, or just have me right here, right now?" "Fuck, you look sexy on your knees for me," he breathed.

"So, do you want it now?"

Leon nodded in response.

You flashed a smile at him before popping open his zipper and freeing him. You proceeded to lick the entirety of his length, causing him to moan. You took him fully into your mouth and started to bob your head on him.

He forcefully grabbed a handful of your hair, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. You gagged as he reached the back of your throat, eliciting a response from him. "Fuck. That sounds amazing," he moaned as he repeated the action several times.

After briefly holding your head in place, he released you, allowing you to take a quick breath before resuming sucking his dick. Your hands work in sync with your mouth to pleasure him. You could feel him getting closer to his release, his moans growing louder and his hips thrusting slightly. Finally, with a loud groan, he filled in your mouth, the salty taste flooding your senses. You swallowed it all.

Leon pulled himself out of your mouth and gripped your neck, urging you to stand before he pressed you against the desk. Releasing his hold on your neck, he tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head and tossing it to the ground. With a swift motion, he tore off your panties.

He lifted you up and sat you on the desk before dropping to his knees in front of you, his gaze fixed on your form. "Now, that's a sexy sight. On your knees for me," Leon said with a smirk. "I'll gladly get on my knees for you,"

With your legs draped over his shoulders, he lowered his head to your core as he started to lick you.

His warm tongue flicked and teased, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. Each motion was deliberate and skilled, expertly finding every sensitive spot and driving you closer to the edge. You let out a loud moan as his tongue worked its magic, taking you higher and higher into a state of pure ecstasy.

Your hands reached down to grasp his silky blonde hair. His movements grew faster and more desperate, his desire matching your own as you both chased the release that was tantalizingly close.

He was aware of how near you were, so he used both hands to pull your ass closer to the edge of your desk. With one finger inside you, he began a slow, deliberate movement that made you arch your head back in ecstasy. "Yes, fuck, yes," you moaned.

After a few rough pumps with just one finger, he decided to add a second, intensifying the sensation. Each time he reached deep within you, he skillfully curled his finger, hitting that magical spot that sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. "Just like that. Keep going," You moaned.

With a final, deep plunge of his fingers, you felt the wave of pleasure crash over you, your body arching in blissful ecstasy. He continued to lap at you, drawing out your pleasure until you were left breathless and completely satisfied.

You pulled him up to meet your lips, tasting yourself on him as you kissed. “Get the fuck in me now,”

“Eager? Are we?”

"For you, definitely," You gasped, spreading your legs for him.

Leon chuckled as he stroked himself, then rubbed himself against your pussy. A sharp moan escaped your lips as he entered you. "You're so tight," he whispered.

"You're so big," you replied breathlessly.

Leon began to move slowly, but you didn't want it to be gentle. "Fuck me like you want it, Kennedy.”

Leon pulled out of you completely before plunging back in with force. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips as Leon established a rough and relentless rhythm.

His hands gripped your hips tightly as he pounded into you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sound of skin slapping and your cries filled the room, mixing with the primal grunts and groans escaping Leon's lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you matched his movements, meeting each thrust with equal fervor. The intensity of the pleasure building between you was overwhelming, each sensation heightened by the primal connection you shared in that moment.

As Leon's pace quickened, you felt a familiar tightening in your core, signaling your imminent release. With a final, powerful thrust, you reached your breaking point and came all over him. He swiftly withdrew and pushed you back onto the desk. With your elbow supporting you, he pumped himself a few times before releasing a deep groan and coating your boobs and stomach in his cum. He admired his handiwork with a grin, as if it were a masterpiece.

"Not the last time we do that," you remarked, locking eyes with him.

"If you were craving me dicking you down that badly, all you had to do was ask. We could have been doing this much sooner," He replied with a smirk.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon smut #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #Resident evil 6 #leon Kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n

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pickingupmymercedes · 6 months

Text

It sounds silly - Lewis Hamilton

Request: "Also if you have time or want to could you write something where the reader is struggling with a self image issue and where Lewis gives words of encouragement?" -@chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: bit of angst, self image problems, body image discussions.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Tooth rooting fluff coming right up. I mean it, you guys are not ready for the levels of softness in this. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the request. My mind went wild with this one.

a/n.2: BTW a good friend of mine proof read it and we tried something different with the writting, so please give me a heads up on what you guys feel and how it compares to the previous fics

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The reason you gave for canceling your dinner date with Lewis seemed trivial, even childish. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, confronting your reflection—a vulnerable woman who felt the sting of her insecurities more acutely than she'd like to admit. The muted light from the overhead fixture highlighted the lines of worry on your face, adding to the ambiance of tension that filled the room.

You had told Lewis that a migraine was to blame, but there you were, with smudged makeup and half-curled hair, staring at an Instagram post that had reignited old insecurities. The post was a fan-made video showcasing all of Lewis's past girlfriends, and while he seemed content with each of them, his smile was undeniably brightest with you. But you couldn’t shake off the feeling of inadequacy when comparing yourself to his past, seemingly flawless partners.

The doorbell interrupted your thoughts. Hoping Lewis would get the hint and leave, you chose not to answer, however, when the familiar jingle of keys met your ears, you realized he was using the spare key you’d given him.

"Hey, love, where are you?" Lewis's voice resonated through the apartment. The ambient lighting in your living room painted a warm glow around him, accentuating his concerned expression. The soft, muted tones of the decor and the comforting scent of your favorite candle filled the space, an atmosphere of intimacy and familiarity to a place he was around often.

He found you in the bathroom, a vision of distress with red, swollen eyes. "What happened? Why didn't you answer the door?" he asked softly, taking in your disheveled appearance.

You hesitated, reluctant to admit the true reason for your emotional turmoil. "I told you I had a migraine," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Sensing there was more to your distress, Lewis gently tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. "Look at me, please," he requested softly.

Reluctantly, you met his gaze, feeling the weight of his concern. "I know it's silly, Lewis," you began, already apologizing in advance, your voice quivering. "I'm a grown woman who’s achieved success in life, yet… I find myself comparing to those other women."

His expression softened, but there was a hint of persistence in his eyes. "I sense there's more you're not telling me,” he said gently. "Love, talk to me."

Swallowing hard, you admitted, "I... I saw something on Instagram." Tears welled up again as you continued, "A fan-made video of all your past girlfriends. They were all so... beautiful and skinny. And then there’s me."

Understanding dawned on Lewis's face as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. "Oh, love," he murmured, his voice filled with an empathetic thone that only made things worse.

You buried your face in his chest, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability wash over you. "I'm sorry," you whispered, ashamed of how your insecurities got the best of you.

"Don't be," Lewis reassured you softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm committed to us, to what we have. You're the one I've chosen and it’s not because of comparisons."

As you clung to each other, the weight of your insecurities began to lift, replaced by the comforting and understanding presence of the man who loved you deeply. His hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles as he whispered words of reassurance.

Wanting to shift the atmosphere and distract from the emotional weight of the conversation, Lewis suggested, "How about we make dinner together tonight?"

You nodded, grateful for the idea of focusing on something else. "Sounds good."

"How about pasta? It's quick, and I think you’ll have the ingredients," Lewis replied, already heading towards the kitchen.

As Lewis began to gather the necessary ingredients, he felt a strong urge to show you just how beautiful he found your body. Wanting to uplift your spirits and reaffirm his admiration for you, he started to become more affectionate.

While stirring the sauce on the stove, Lewis wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close to him. He pressed soft kisses along the side of your neck, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your hips and sides.

"You know," he whispered, his voice husky, "I've always found you incredibly sexy, just the way you are."

A warmth spread through you, not just from the heat of the stove but from the genuine affection and desire in Lewis's touch and words. It was moments like these that made you feel cherished and desired, erasing the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you earlier.

"I love you," you whispered, turning in his arms to press a lingering kiss on his lips.

"I love you too," Lewis replied, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. "And I'll keep reminding you every day until you believe it."

Feeling the weight of the emotional conversation lifting, you decided to show Lewis the video that had triggered your insecurities. Taking a deep breath, you handed him your phone, pointing to the Instagram post.

Lewis took the phone from your outstretched hand, unlocking it to search for the video you mentioned. He watched it in silence, his expression thoughtful as he took in each frame. When the video ended, he set his phone down and looked at you with a soft smile.

"I've had my fair share of relationships in the past, but with you, it's different. I want you to know that," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.

You looked into his eyes, hesitating for a moment before opening up. "It feels so childish. You're a superstar, and I can't help but compare myself to your past. I know it sounds silly.”

Understanding filled Lewis's eyes as he took a step closer, gently cupping your face. "I understand why you’d feel that way, but you have to know, that to me, you are more than enough. I chose you for who you are, not for how you compare to anyone else."

His words, though simple, held a depth of sincerity that touched your heart, easing the sting of your insecurities. You nodded slowly, taking in his reassuring presence.

"Thank you for being so understanding," you finally said, your voice filled with gratitude and relief.

"I'm always here for you." Lewis said, squeezing your hand gently.

As the evening wore on and dinner was ready, Lewis took a step back, extending his hand towards you. "May I have this dance?" he asked with a playful grin.

You chuckled at the unexpected request. "But there's no music."

"Who needs music?" Lewis replied, a tender smile on his face. "I just want to hold you close and dance with you."

Gratefully accepting his hand, you allowed Lewis to pull you close, placing one hand on his shoulder while he held you securely around the waist. As you began to move slowly together, you felt the gentle rhythm of your hearts beating in sync.

There was no need for music. The silence between you was filled with the unspoken words of love, understanding, and acceptance. As you held each other in a tender embrace, the warmth and closeness spoke volumes, conveying love, reassurance, and unwavering support without the need for words.

In the quiet intimacy of your living room, swaying gently together, you found solace in Lewis's presence. With him by your side, you felt not just loved, but truly cherished. You knew that with him, you could open up without fear of judgment, feeling understood and supported in every moment.

As the night deepened, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the comforting cocoon of your home and him. With each passing moment, you felt more connected, more understood, and more cherished. The insecurities that once plagued you were now distant, replaced by the undeniable truth of Lewis's unwavering support.

He pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes with a mischievous grin. "We should make our own video." playfully winking at you, trying to lighten the mood further.

You laughed, swatting him lightly on the arm. The playful banter was exactly what you needed to dispel the last of your insecurities and bring a genuine smile to your face. With a chuckle, Lewis pulled you close once more, relishing in the sound of your laughter. "I mean it, though," he whispered, his voice filled with love and a hint of mischief. "I want to capture all our beautiful moments together."

Blushing at his boldness, you shook your head, your heart swelling with love for the man who always knew how to lift you up. "Maybe one day," you teased, "but for now, let's just enjoy this, yeah?!"

Lewis nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "Sounds perfect," he whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss, sealing your love and the promise of many more cherished moments to come.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #f1 imagine #ella asks #formula 1

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Note

how much of a flirt is harvey specter with his s/o and what does that look like? 👀

Harvey Specter/AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Nothing, just fluff. Fluff and banter.

Rating: T

"Is this seat taken?"

The question makes you lips curl with a smile, though you keep your eyes set stalwartly on your phone as you write out in email.

"The air's occupying it pretty heavily," You offer.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

"If you must."

You don't have to look to know that the remainder of the bar is unoccupied, and there's no doubt as to why the man's bothered to sit beside you. You don't even bother to get a look at your new companion.

"Do you come here often?" He asks, and you can't help but scoff a laugh.

"Really? That's your opening line?"

"Technically, my opening line was 'is this seat taken'. This is just my second ice breaker."

"The fact that you need a second ice breaker is concerning."

"You haven't answered it."

"It wouldn't help you. I never answer that honestly."

"Why not?"

"In case you're some weirdo stalker."

"At least I'd be a weirdo stalker with money."

"You'd have to be. A damn gimlet costs $40 here. It's horrifying."

"It's Manhattan."

"I know bars where you can get a gimlet for a reasonable price."

"Why aren't you there now?"

"Because I'm meeting someone. He'll need that seat, by the way."

"He won't."

"No? And why's that?"

"You'll be too in love with me by the time he gets here."

"Well. He is late already," You eye the time before you finally lower your phone, turning to get a look at the man. He's smiling warmly at you, his dark eyes glimmering with mirth. Sweeping your gaze over his suit, and you find his tie just a touch askew.

"...I guess you'll do for now," You sigh forlornly.

"I'm flattered."

"You should be. I'm throwing a good man over for you."

"A late good man?"

"Not the first time, certainly won't be the last."

"Any man that leaves you on your own ought to be drawn and quartered."

"I don't mind some time to myself."

"Secure. I like that."

"Is that all you like?"

"Hardly, but we'll start there."

"Erm...Ma'am?"

The two of you turn your heads at the sound of the tentative interruption by the bartender. You arch a brow, urging them on, and they add, "This man isn't bothering you, is he?"

You grin, unable to help it, and knowing that Harvey's doing the same.

"Yes, but it's alright. He's my husband, so he bothers me all the time."

"Oh," They chuckle, nodding, "Is there anything that I could get you, sir?"

"Macallan, neat."

"And another for you, ma'am?"

"Please."

"Coming right up."

You reach out, straightening Harvey's tie. His gaze lingers on you, and he catches hold of your hand before you can pull it away.

"You're late," You admonish.

"I know, I'm sorry. A deposition ran over," He leans in, lips brushing yours, "And traffic was awful."

"Why don't you just take the train?"

"Mm."

"I know it has some issues, but Manhattan traffic, my god—"

"Would you shut up and let me kiss you?" He murmurs, the feeling of it buzzing your lips. You grin, raising your free hand to cup his jaw and press your lips warmly to his. He sighs softly, lowering his hand to your leg and sweeping his thumb gently over the exposed skin of your knee.

"Let's bag dinner," He mumbles, "I want to take you home now."

"Dinner first, Specter," You pat his cheek and turn back toward your phone. "I'm willing to bet you haven't eaten since this morning."

Harvey just grunts in annoyance, leaning in and brushing his lips against your neck, only drawing away as the bartender sets his Macallan down.

"Your table is nearly ready, Mrs. Specter," They add, smiling at you and setting down your fresh drink.

"Thank you."

You hear Harvey huff softly, and you turn, brow furrowing.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips as he lowers his drink. "I just never get tired of hearing that."

TLDR: He flirts with them a lot

#Harvey Specter x Reader #Harvey Specter x You #Harvey Specter/Reader #Harvey Specter/You #Harvey Specter fic #Harvey Specter imagine #asks #replies #requests #anon

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 5 months

Note

Request: Tangerine and reader who struggles with insomnia, please? 🥹❤️ (literally writing this at like 4.30 in the morning and I’m not even tired yet, omg)

Ey, maybe like sleep issues in general? Like also with nightmares, sleep paralysis etc?

okay I love this so so much!!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌 also hope this can be of help to you xx

COUNTRY LANES.

tangerine x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 599

Usually, you would find the soft, steady snores of your lover beside you comforting. But not right now.

It's way past three, and you were still struggling to sleep. Endless tossing and turning, growing more and more frustrated as the minutes pass you by. You envied Tangerine's ease and ability to settle down for the night.

And even in sleep, he still sought you under the covers - arm reaching for your middle to pull you closer. You should've found the act sweet, endearing even. But you were far too agitated to be held right now, the weight of his arm feeling suffocating. So you slip from his grasp, trying not to wake him.

"You okay?" he whispers, voice thick from hours of sleep. "Where you going?" he asks, head lifting from the pillow, watching you sit at the edge of the bed - your back to him. He follows suit, sitting up slowly, hand reaching for you. "Can't sleep?"

You exhale, exasperated. "No," you reply, speaking quietly.

He scooches closer, moving across the bed. "What can I do?" he asks, running a palm down your spine, stroking you soothingly. He itches closer and presses a kiss into the back of your shoulder. "How can I help?"

"I don't know," you shrug and squeeze the bridge of your nose. "My head's killing me, and I just can't sleep."

"Okay, alright," he hums, fingers drawing circles on your back.

He continues with light kisses on your shoulder - doing everything he can to distract you while he thinks of a solution. And then he stands from the bed and makes his way over to the wardrobe, pulling out two of his hoodies - putting one over his head, giving the other to you.

"Put that on. Got an idea," Tangerine says, throwing on a pair of lounge shorts, handing you something else of his to wear - his pyjama bottoms.

You dress in the clothes he gave you, unsure of what he had planned but going along with it nonetheless.

He leads you down the stairs and to the front door, where he now hands you a pair of shoes - it was like he was taking the lead and doing all the thinking for you, saving you a further headache. He grabs his car keys from the hook and opens the door, nodding for you to follow - doing everything silently and calmly.

He guides you to his car out front, opening the passenger door for you and then getting in on his side - grabbing a blanket from the boot before doing so. "Buckled in?" he asks, handing you the blanket. He then slots his keys into the ignition and starts the car.

You hum softly, turning to face him. "Where we going?"

He places a hand on the back of your headrest, his head turning behind to reverse from his spot. "For a drive around," he speaks casually, rolling backwards down the stoned driveway.

"You don't have to do this. I can just watch TV or something," you offer, feeling guilty for interrupting his sleep.

His hand reaches for yours, fingers weaving into you as he brings it to his face, pressing a kiss into the back of it. "Don't worry about it. Just close your eyes, yeah?" he dismisses, placing your hand back into your lap - tucking it under the blanket.

And as he drives off the property gate and onto the road, you feel your eyes finally grow heavy - the soft bumps on the country lanes slowly but surely nudging you towards sleep.

#everythingisspokenfortbh #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine fluff

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zorrasucia · 6 months

Text

Teach Me Tonight - Part 8

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] Part 8:

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Fingering, Pegging, Thigh Riding, Fluff, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

(by popular demand and because I think I learnt something about myself lmao)

You walked inside the apartment after a night out with your friends that had left you a little tipsy. It was late and everything was dark. You took your shoes off and padded around, hoping you didn't wake up Carmy.

As you approached the bedroom you could hear some rustling and humming inside. You cracked the door open a little. With the glow of the moon and the streetlights you could make out the silhouette of Carmy lying in bed, hair damp from the shower and head tilted back in pleasure. A soft moan escaped his lips.

You smiled. It wasn't the first time you had walked in on him masturbating. Sometimes it would happen that he would get back from work, find you sleeping and touch himself beside you - you had woken up twice for the end of it, sleepily kissing his face and saying how good he had been, and falling back asleep. Another time in the shower, you walked in and helped him finish. He had seen you too a couple of times - one had ended with his head between your legs. Bottomline, it wasn't an issue - more often than not it was a serious turn on. And so you leaned on the doorframe, quiet and careful not to interrupt Carmy, looking at how beautiful he looked in the pale moonlight. Except he turned over and instead of seeing him holding his cock like you expected, you saw him curling two fingers inside his asshole, all digits shiny with lube, his back arching in pleasure as he got on all fours.

"Fuck," he whined, a strong exhale followed by your name.

You pressed your thighs together, your heartbeat racing, enjoying the sight more than you ever thought you would.

Carmy kept arching into himself and you recognized the frustration of not being able to reach your climax. After some moments of thought you decided to walk in.

"Carm," you said, your voice low. "Can I help?"

"Fuck," he uttered, slightly surprised. He was sweaty and desperate and it stirred something inside you. "Fuck, sorry, you don't have to-"

"I know, I want to."

He handed you the bottle of lube and you warmed it up in your right hand, coating every finger. With your left hand, you tugged on his wrist, prying the fingers that were deep inside him, out.

"Please, please," he begged.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you," you leaned over, kissing the base of his spine, the pretty dimples he had there. Carmy keened once every finger was out and you soothed his back and waist, appreciating the view from this angle you rarely enjoyed. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," it was an ongoing agreement between you two but it was always nice to remind each other, especially when he was as desperate as this.

"Yes," he panted.

Carefully, you inserted your index and middle fingers, following what he had been doing before - your hands were smaller anyway. The sharp moan he let out was unlike any sound you had ever heard him make and it electrified you down to your toes.

"Holy shit, Carmy," you mumbled.

You were cautious, going slow, knuckle by knuckle, but he thrust back into your hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, and started fucking himself into your fingers, squeezing, his back muscles flexing. "Thank you, thank you."

After a while of that, his rhythm started faltering and that frustrated sound came back, you leaned over and whispered:

"Tell me how you want it."

Carmy exhaled, stopping mid-thrust to recover his breath.

"Can you- shit, fuck- can you move your fingers?"

"Like you do with me?" you asked, remembering the delicious waves his fingers made inside you.

"Exactly like that," he chuckled and leaned back to caress your forearm.

You moved your fingers like he asked, changing the rhythm until it was something Carmy enjoyed. Your wrist cramped, unaccustomed to the motion, and when you shifted and started over, Carmy let out a cry of absolute bliss.

"Oh," you marveled, trying to touch the same spot again.

"Right fucking there, please, please, please..." he begged and you were so happy to give him everything he wanted. Your underwear was soaked with the noises he was making.

"You're doing so good, Carmy," you said.

His hand reached behind to touch you, anything, your thigh, your arm, and squeeze the hell out of it while his asshole clenched around your fingers.

"I'm so close," he fell face forward, his ass up as you kept hitting that same spot. "Feels so good."

Some primal part of you awoke, and you leaned forward to grab his hair and pull on it, not too hard, just enough to push him over the edge.

"Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he said, followed by some unintelligible noises that were probably curses too, and he came hard - shaking and panting.

You smiled, keeping your fingers in there and moving until he asked you to stop. You kissed his dimples again and went inside the bathroom to wash your hands and get some wipes. Gently, you moved Carmy to lie on his side and cleaned his ass, and the mess of cum on his stomach and chest. You laid beside him on the bed, him stark naked and you fully clothed.

"Baby, baby, baby," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and fucked out, caressing your thigh, beckoning you closer so he could kiss you. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you."

You kissed him deeply, passionately, with all the hunger he had made you feel while you fingered him. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his jaw.

"What're you sorry for, Carm?" you asked softly.

"I didn't mean to force you to-"

"You didn't force me. You've never forced me to do anything," you said, carding your fingers through his hair. "I don't think you have it in you, Berzatto," you teased.

He smiled lazily.

"How'd this all come up?" you asked after a while, still caressing his face and hair.

He reached over you to his bedside table and handed you the sex book you had gifted him months and months ago when you first started fucking. The covers were worn in and there were several dog eared pages; one was on prostate stimulation.

"I know you meant it as a joke," he smiled bashfully. "But it got me thinking- And I wanted to try it out myself before saying something," he explained. "Didn't mean to leave you out of it or anything."

You kissed him again, tenderly this time. It was such a vulnerable thing and he was willing to share it with you. You caressed his shoulders and chest.

"So did you like it?" you asked against his lips.

Carmy nodded. "It was fucking fire."

"Well, I thought it was unbelievably hot too, so..." you confessed.

Carmy hummed softly, almost purring as he leaned forward to kiss you. His hands teased at the belt loops of your jeans, inching closer and closer to the button and zipper.

"There's no need, Carm," you whispered; you could tell he was completely wiped out.

"I want to. I want to," he got rid of your jeans and underwear with shaky hands. "I'm just gonna say thank you real quick."

He went down your body and placed himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

"Oh, you really thought it was hot," he gasped, the proof of it glistening right in front of him.

"I wouldn't lie about that," you chuckled, already bucking your hips at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

"Good," he said.

He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed you, giddy and glowing from his orgasm. You let go, enjoying all of it, caressing his face and feeling the tight knot of anticipation in you unravel fast. You came with a sigh, gently grinding on his nose, feeling weightless.

Carmy climbed back up, and put his head on his hand. He looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked, smiling.

"Would you-" he turned away for a moment, embarrassed. "Would you ever consider- uh- fucking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the fire in your lower belly reigniting.

"I'll definitely think about it, Carm."

You knocked on the backdoor to the restaurant and Richie opened it, backpack in tow.

"Hey, there," he greeted you, kissing your cheek, and let you in. "Mr OCD is almost done with his deep clean."

The kitchen was almost empty. Syd was picking up her stuff - with a smile and a roll of her eyes she pointed to where Carmy was, kneeling and scrubbing.

You had seen him clean the floor before, except now finding him on his knees reminded you of a few nights before when he was on all fours, keening with every move your fingers made, arching his back...

"Oh, hey," he looked up and smiled at you. "Why are you here? You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the blush on your face with your scarf. "You said you'd meet me like half an hour ago, is all."

Carmy tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That can't be right," he turned to the clock. "Shit. Syd's still here?"

"She just left."

"I'm sorry, lost track of time," he got up and started picking everything up.

Once every light was off, you stood there in the doorway waiting for him. He had to scoot close to you to get through; your eyes wandered over his body.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Just thinking about how good you look on your knees," you flirted.

He laughed and kissed you hungrily against the doorframe.

"I'll do it. I'll fuck you whenever you want," you said, your cold hands finding the skin of his waist. "I mean it."

He ground against you, humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," his voice was hoarse. "Next week okay?"

"Next week works for me," you said playfully before licking his lower lip.

He kissed you one last time before he pulled away to lock the door. You shivered a little in the Chicago cold and Carmy put an arm around you.

Carmy guided you to stand by the bed; he sat in front of you, caressing the side of your hips and thighs, something adoring in his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice breathy with nerves and need.

"Okay."

He placed a kiss in the valley between your breasts, inhaling you deep, and then leaned sideways to retrieve the harness from his bedside table. He secured the strap on carefully to your hips. You watched him work, the way his hands moved over and around you, the way his eyes lit up when he looked up at you. You cupped his face.

"And you? You sure?" your thumb circled his cheekbone.

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Yeah."

You finally took your eyes off of him and glanced at the dildo. Carmy had chosen it. It was on the shorter and slimmer side, which was a relief in a way - the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him in the heat of the moment. You touched the side of it experimentally.

"All good?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A little weird," you replied honestly. You took a step further between his legs, your nails scratching gently at his muscled back. "Want to make you feel good so bad," you said in a raspy voice.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned when you pushed him gently to lay on the bed.

"On your hands and knees," you told him, the thrill of anticipation made you feel less self conscious about taking control.

He rushed to obey, turning his back towards you, letting you see the butt plug he had placed inside himself before you came home. He was nervous about stretching himself in front of you, he had said.

"Let me know if I can help next time," you said softly, one hand soothing the small of his back and the other holding a bottle of lube. "I mean if you- If we like it, you know?"

"Next time," he agreed, his voice breathy. "Didn't want to blow my load before you even put the strap on is all."

You giggled. "It would have been kinda hot." He huffed in response.

Your hands settled on his waist, bracing as you kneeled on the bed behind him.

You poured a huge amount of lube on your hand, letting a dollop of it fall on Carmy's ass, making him hiss a little from the cold, while you covered the dildo in it.

You tugged on the butt plug, a mess of lube gathering on the base of it already, making it glide right out as Carmy made a drawn out, low sound.

"Fuck," you whispered, heart hammering inside your chest. You lined up the dildo. "Slow at first, okay?"

"Yes, please, just- please," he begged and you knew the harness would need some serious washing once you were done with how turned on you were getting. It was everything: Carmy's pleading voice, his back muscles flexing, the excitement of making him feel good, the nervousness of trying something entirely new...

You pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck," he said in a hoarse voice. You could see his legs trembling as he contained the impulse of leaning back on you too quick. You moved gently, carefully, inch by inch until you bottomed out. "Fuck, yes!" he let out.

You stayed still for a while, letting him get accustomed to the stretch, listening to him breathe deep, something like a growl trapped in the back of his throat.

"Okay?" you asked caressing his sides, from his waist up to his ribs and back, soft skin scribbled with ink.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You can move now."

You leaned back and forth, holding his waist. He only hummed softly - it wasn't good, not yet. You tried shifting a little to find a less awkward position.

"You make this look so easy," you complained after a while, struggling to get comfortable.

Carmy laughed and you joined him.

"You showed me what to do," he said, reaching behind to touch your hand reassuringly. "But some of it was- I don't know- instinct I guess..."

And you knew what he meant. There came a moment in sex where something took over, when your hips moved with a will of their own.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassured you. "Pretty sure that if you just stayed there and talked dirty for a minute I would still come."

You giggled and the vibrations made Carmy moan a little, that delicious sound you loved so much. You had to at least try.

"Mind if we change it up a little?" you leaned over to place a kiss on his spine. "You on your back so I can see you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds- yeah," he agreed breathily.

With you between his open legs, it wasn't all that different from when you were riding him. You could see Carmy close his eyes in pleasure as you finally found a rhythm.

"Fucking- that's so good, so fucking good, baby," he said and the praise went right down to your pussy, the mere friction of the harness making you moan in unison with Carmy. One of your hands gripped the mattress while the other held tight to his side, that bit of skin between the V of his stomach and his hip. He was sweating and heaving underneath you.

"Fuck. You look so fucking hot, Carm, holy shit," you blurted out. It made him smile and reach for your hand. His touch was gentle, grateful, even as he let out a growl from deep inside his chest.

You shifted your hips a little, trying to keep the strap on in place and Carmy exhaled shakily.

"Right there," he squeezed your wrist. "Right fucking there. Please, please, please..."

"I got you, Carm, I got you,"

You kept hitting that spot until he was writhing on the bedsheets, reaching for the edge of the bed, and arching his back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Please keep going," he whined.

You scratched his skin, the sinful sounds you two were making spurring you on.

"Look at you! You're wonderful, you're perfect, Carm."

"Fuck you," he said without bite. He was meeting your thrusts desperately. "You can't say shit like that when I'm so close."

"Oh, I think it's the perfect moment to say shit like that," you replied, fucking him faster, whispering sweet nothings between each thrust: "You're gorgeous. And you're being so good, Carm, so good..."

"I- I'm-" was all he could say before he came with a long groan - hands in his hair, neck arched, veins pulsing.

If the sounds he was making were any indication, he was coming harder than he ever had, and the thought made you shiver with satisfaction. You stopped moving and he exhaled heavily.

"What the fuck was that?" he was panting and smiling, sweaty like he had run for miles.

You caressed his thighs, your eyes wandering over his chest and stomach, and the trail of dark hair that went down his navel - all covered with cum.

"Good?" you asked with a proud grin.

"I think I died for a minute there, baby," he said like it was the highest praise. And maybe it was.

"I'm going to pull out, get you cleaned up," you said softly after a couple of minutes. He nodded dreamily, letting out a grunt once the dildo was out.

You were thorough and gentle, kissing and caressing as you wiped his skin with a wet cloth. It took a little while with how messy you had been with the lube situation and how hard Carmy had come.

"Look," he gestured at the scratches you left on his hip, bright red lines on pale skin.

"Shit, sorry" you leaned over to kiss them too. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. I kinda dig it though," he said with a smirk. "Might get a tattoo there later," he teased, and you had to silence a needy, embarrassing sound.

You climbed up his body and kissed him, all tongue and fervor, your fingers buried deep in his curls. You had taken the harness off and arousal was wetting the inside of your thigh.

"Please tell me we'll do this again," you said against his lips.

"You liked it too?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I'm fucking soaked, Carm," you confessed, too tired to try to be delicate about it. "Loved making you feel that good, cum that hard..."

He hummed contentedly, tracing lines on your back with his fingers. "Any notes?"

"I might have to use a toy when we're done next time but other than that, no," you said honestly.

"Not now?" he asked, frowning.

Before Carmy, you were okay with going to bed frustrated, or rubbing your clit furiously in the bathroom to get a quick orgasm after some mediocre sex. This wasn't that. It was fucking great sex. However-

"I don't want to move," you replied, snuggling closer to Carmy's side.

"Oh, I get that," he chuckled; it was a weary sound, he was struggling to stay awake.

You felt so warm and comfortable. You didn’t want to break the lovely snowglobe of tenderness you were both in to grab a fucking toy from the drawer.

After a moment of thought, Carmy angled one of his legs in your direction, his muscular thigh now between your own. He nudged upwards, smearing your arousal on his own skin, silently proposing a solution to your problem.

"Can I-?" you asked anyway, your hips moving forwards, a shaky exhale leaving your lips when your clit touched his skin.

"Mhmm," he nodded, capturing your lips in a kiss, drowning your moans as you started riding his thigh in earnest.

You were so worked up it didn't take long, a few frantic thrusts and you were shaking and rolling your eyes.

"Carm," you gasped, and he held you through it, one hand on the small of your back and the other caressing your face. His half lidded eyes stared as you finally came, shivering in his hold.

"Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I mean it. You were- It was everything."

You smiled groggily.

"I loved it. I loved it, Carm," you repeated. "I love you," you managed to say before falling asleep, safe in his arms.

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

#anons i hope you enjoy and i apologize because it took me so long to reply but in my defense i think i went absolutely feral with this so #anyway uh #this feels illegal #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy berzatto smut

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hailey-dilmore-the-worm · 3 months

Text

HAILEYS BULLET OF REVENGE

OCC: IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: THIS IS A REWRITE BECAUSE I WAS STUPID AS FUCK AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT... ☹️ BUT IMA GO AND REWRITE IT ALL AGAIN... WARNING: this story contains violence, insults, verbal assault , blood, death, guns and all along the lines of that..THANK YOU. this is a continuation of my roleplay with @ethan-green-69420 , if your reading this, sorry it took so long as I said I accidentally deleted the original...]]

Orange: hailey

Red: zoey

*after her meet up with Ethan, Hailey dilmore walks through the quiet streets of Hatchet Town, the sun settings light shining through the buildings of the streets. As she walked on, Hailey remembers that she left her car back at pizza Pete's.. of course she did.. well it's too far now, she'll go pick it up tomorrow at some point.. that's if ... She's even alive by tomorrow after the course of her plan. She shakes it off, and eventually finally arrives at the apartment building. Walking through the main door and pressing the button on the elevator listening to the rumble of the elevator before it finally dings open. She walks in and presses the button to the 8th floor, watching the doors close and feeling the elevator pull her up to the floor, once again watching the doors ding open. She'd walk out the elevator and through the apartment buildings halls until she stops at her apartment door. She takes out her key and opens the door, closing it and placing her key on the key rack hung up near the front door. Placing her bag down and walking into the main room. No one but her and Zoey was home, which is perfect.. the other girls went out for a meal, Zoey would have too, but the embarrassment of loosing her voice completely during the honey queen pageant still lingers, aswell as her voice still being pretty fucked up still. She'd walk up to Zoey's room and knocks on the door entering*

"hey Zoey.. how are y-"

*before she can say anything else, shes interrupted by Zoey. Her voice rasped and croaked*

"shut up worm.. get out I don't want to talk to you right now."

"right I know that but.. I want to talk to you."

*Zoey rolls her eyes and sits up from her bed she was laying on*

"allright what is it Hailey.."

*Hailey took a deep breath and looked Zoey in the eyes with a serious stare in her eyes*

"I want you to.. to stop."

"stop..?? Hailey what the actual fuck are you on about."

"stop ... Stop blaming me for your issues, assuming it's always me that caused them-!!!! Stop using me as a door mat for yourself-! Putting me down so you can feel good about yourself-!! Insulting me and talking about me behind my back to all your freinds-!! Stop threatening to kick me out of the dorm just because I'm struggling with stomach problems-!"

*silence breaks the room.. their heartbeats the only sound, but was shortly lived as a broken choked laugh escapes Zoey's mouth, as she'd stand up and walks over to Hailey*

"your ... Your joking ... your funny!! You're having a laugh!! Right??"

"no...no I'm not joking I'm serious-! This is what I'm talking ab-"

"shut up...shut ... Up ... Hailey.. I will kick you out of this apartment.. I will end your career, I get you into those shows.. all you have is because of m-"

*Zoey was suddenly shut up by a loud echoed SLAP across the room, a seering pain surges through Zoey's face as she'd stare at Hailey in shock*

"..Zoey...I don't want YOU here anymore..I want you to leave... I'm standing up for myself and .. everyone else you've bitched at-.. lea-"

*as retaliation, in a fit of rage Zoey let out a yell of anger, thrusting her fist into Haley's face causing her to stumble back out the room. Zoey follows, wiping Hailey's blood off her knuckles*

"you... Fucking dare...I'll kill you ...you fucking.. worm..."

*Hailey stands up, spitting out a splatter of blood as she'd lunge at Zoey back. Starting a big fight between themselves. Punches and slaps throw across the room, until Hailey switches it up and wraps her hands around Zoey's neck, in an attempt to strangle her to death, Zoey in panic thrashes around, knocking stuff off the shelves and tables. And is finally able to break free as Hailey finds Zoey's knee striking her straight in the stomach, pushing her onto the floor in a winded state. Zoey gasps, catching her breath before making her way over to Hailey*

"you..you be got some nerve... Get ... Get out of my apartment..or I'll make you myself.."

*Hailey grits her teeth, so it's come to this, she reaches for the gun in her back pocket, turning the safety off*

"Zoey...I'm... So...sorry..for everything..."

"your sorry?? Your fucking sorry???? I not accepting that... After all of that-!!!!! You... Son..of a-"

*Zoey was silenced, after a flash of God awful pain struck her through the chest followed by a loud BANG. She'd look down, finding a bullet wound, right in her chest, she'd struggle to breath as she'd cough up blood, her legs trembling to the floor. Opposite of the dying zoey, Hailey stands back up for the second time, her eyes pink, and glowing whilst watching her friend struggle on the floor, breathing slowly until her breaths disappear and the life from her eyes drain away..*

"now...now who's the worm...huh...who's the worm now..!!"

*she'd bend down to check if she's still breathing, finding out she's gone, before walking over to the mirror, looking at herself in it, before taking out her phone and texting @ethan-green-69420 *

["its done...she's gone... I don't know how long the others will be before they come back so...please hurry-"]

OOC: YIPEE FINALLY I HOPE I DONT DELETE IT AGAIN....

#hatchetfield roleplay #hatchetverse #haley dilmore #hatchetfield universe #hatchetblr #hatchetfield #nmt #starkid nightmare time #hatchetfield rp #starkid black friday #hatchet town #starkid rp #starkid #nmt2 #zoey chambers #ethan green #hailey dilmore

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lee-laurent · 3 months

Text

The Past - John Marino

Summary: The timeline of John and Tori's relationship

notes: This is like a prequel to 'Done Trying!' You don't have to read this part, but it gives background on John and Tori's relationship. How they got to where they are in the fic now. The part after this will be a continuation of 'Done Trying' so look for that in the next few days. Also, I do not want to hear any negative criticism about how I've written her depression. I have depression myself and this is how it manifests for me. It's different for everyone, so I don't want to see any hate. Your experience may be different than mine, but every mental health experience is valid.

content: angst, fluff, unplanned pregnancy, break ups, anxiety issues, arguments, birth (not super graphic), mentions of sex but no actual smut, depressive episode, body image issues, mentions of abortion

2019

Tori wasn't drunk by any means, just a bit tipsy. Her fake ID had worked and she was enjoying her night out with her friends. The bar wasn't particularly busy, but the girls were managing to make it feel like a party.

The group of girls all turned to look at the door as a group of rowdy men entered. They were all cheering loudly and patting each other on the back.

"Was there a hockey game tonight?" one of Tori's friends asked.

"I think so," she shrugged, downing the rest of her rum and coke. "I'm going to get another one."

"We'll be here!" one of the other girls giggled.

"Hi, could I have another rum and coke, please?" she grinned at the bartender.

"Sure thing," the man returned with the drink a few minutes later, placing it in front of her, "That'll be 6 dollars."

She reached into her back pocket, when a voice beside her stopped her, "I've got it."

She turned, looking at the man next to her. He was significantly taller than her five foot frame, with tan skin and unruly, dark curls he brushed from his eyes.

"Oh! Thank you," she grinned, taking her drink from the counter.

"I'm John."

"Tori."

"You come here often? Sorry, I know that's cliche as fuck."

"Ha! No worries, my friends and I come here some weeks. It seems your group of friends is making it a bit more lively."

"Hope we're not interrupting your night."

"Not at all. We were the only ones making noise before you guys showed up. You from around here?"

"I'm from Massachusetts. But I moved here for work. You?"

"Pittsburgh born and raised," she smiled, raising her glass up before taking a sip.

The couple continued talking for the rest of the night. Tori wasn't the hookup type though, so instead of going home with him, she gave him her number. Leading to a long line of dates, until he finally asked her out officially.

2020

The world had locked down. No more hockey. No more school. No more work. Tori had subsequently moved into John's apartment so that they would be able to spend time together during the pandemic.

"What're you making?" John asked, wrapping his arms around Tori's waist, tucking his face in the crook of her neck.

"Oatmeal cookies."

"Smells good, baby."

"How was your nap?"

"Relaxing. Would've been better if you were there."

"You know naps make me feel like shit."

"I know... but the bed feels so empty without you."

"God, you're cheesy," she grinned, lifting her hand up to run through his mop of curls. "You want me to trim these?"

"Mmm, not today. I like them long. Why? Do you not like them?"

"I love your curls, Johnny. So sexy."

He grinned, pressing a kiss to her neck.

"I'm going to play 'chel with the boys. Call if you need anything."

She nodded, turning back to rolling the cookie dough into perfect balls. She'd taken up baking during the lockdown. John kept telling her he was going to be out of shape for the next season if she kept it up, but he continued to taste test everything for her nonetheless.

Another month into the lockdown and Tori wasn't herself. She wouldn't leave bed, she was taking naps, and John could barely get her to eat. She claimed she was fine, but he didn't believe her in the slightest.

"Come on, baby. I made mac and cheese, your favourite," he tempted, sitting on the bed and running a hand through her matted hair.

"Not hungry."

"You've gotta be hungry. You haven't eaten since yesterday morning. And all you had then was a couple crackers."

"I'm not hungry. Let me sleep."

"You've been sleeping all day. Can you get up and take a shower for me?"

"Too tired."

"Tori, baby..."

She just rolled over, hiding her face in the duvet. He sighed, leaving the bedroom and going to eat the food he'd made... why let it go to waste.

"How's Victoria doing, love?" John's mom asked through the phone, worry lacing her voice.

"I can't get her to do anything except sleep. I'm trying, Mom. She just..."

"Do you know if she has a history of depressive episodes?"

"Yeah, one when she was in high school. But she said she learned skills to cope."

"Just be there for her, John. That's all I can suggest."

"Thanks, Mom."

Two hours later, Tori emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing the same clothes she had been for days and her hair desperately needed a wash to rid it of grease.

"Hi, baby," John smiled softly.

"Hi. Will you come take a shower with me?" she whispered.

"Sure, but first can you just eat a few bites of the food I made?"

"I... I don't know."

"Please, Tori. Just so I know you're eating."

"Okay."

She sat on his lap, picking at the bowl of pasta in front of them.

"Five bites and we can take a shower."

"Okay."

It took her 20 minutes to take those five bites, but she did it. The couple stood under the hot water of the shower, embracing the time together outside of their room. John helped her wash her hair and brush out all the knots. She forgot how nice it felt to feel clean. She turned in his arms, squishing her face into his torso.

"I've got you, baby. I've always got you. I love you so much."

"I'm sorry, John," she sobbed, "I've been a terrible girlfriend."

"Shh, no you haven't. You're just struggling right now. It's okay. We'll get through his together."

"I love you. I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry. I just want what's best for you. And rotting in bed isn't."

She leaned up and pressed a soft, loving kiss against his lips. When she went in for another one, he turned his head, her lips landing on his cheek.

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry," she cried again.

"No, no. I just... I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you. I love you so much, but I can't... do anything until you're yourself again. Okay?"

"Okay."

The next day, John helped Tori find a therapist online. Even going as far as to join sessions to learn how he could help her to help herself.

2021

Now that lockdown restrictions had been lifted slightly, Tori was thriving. She was going on daily walks and working on new coping skills to use when she felt that numbness creeping back in.

John was back to playing hockey and finally their lives had back some normalcy. A normalcy that had formed itself into a very... intimate love life for the two. There didn't seem to be a day that the two weren't having sex. Tori was pretty sure roadies were the only days they weren't falling asleep naked.

It was amazing, until it all came crashing down at the end of December. Tori had been feeling like shit for almost a week now. She felt sluggish and the sent of John before he showered after practice had her sick to her stomach. The idea of being pregnant though wasn't even a thought that crossed her mind. She had an IUD. They were safe. Surely it couldn't be...

"Do you want me to pick up a test, just in case? I know you said it's like almost impossible," John asked as he walked to his car at the arena.

"Sure, if it'll make you feel better. Pick up two, just in case one is faulty."

"Sounds good, babe. Be home in 20. Love you."

"Love you too, Johnny."

The couple stood in the bathroom, re-reading the instructions for the tests.

"I think it's self explanatory, John."

"I just want to make sure you're doing it right!" he swatted her hand away as she tried to grab the paper from him.

"Whatever," she rolled her eyes, sitting on the toilet with the stick.

"Yeah, just piss on it. Then we've gotta wait 5 minutes."

"Sounds good. You stayin' in here while I pee?" she giggled.

"I'll be right outside."

Peeing on the test was harder than she thought. It was like she couldn't get herself to pee, she was so nervous. After a couple minutes though, she'd put the caps back on and placed them on the counter.

"Come in, John. But I'm telling you, I'm not pregnant. Trusty old IUD keeps your sperm outta there."

"Maybe I've got really persistant sperm."

"I-" the timer rang. "You ready?"

"Yep."

At the same time, they flipped the tests, the plastic clattering against the sink as Tori dropped it.

"They- They must be faulty. False positive, right? Right, John?"

"I- is that a common occurance? I'll google it," he typed on his phone quickly, spelling half the words wrong, "There's less than a 1% chance of that, Tori."

"So? Maybe we're in that percentage. Did you even get good ones?"

"They were the most expensive ones! I just grabbed them!"

"They're wrong."

"Victoria..."

"Don't 'Victoria' me! They're wrong! I'm not pregnant! It's just a cold."

John rolled his eyes, "Can you at least go to the doctor? Get meds for your cold then."

"Fine! I'll make an appointment right now!"

"Perfect. I'm going to make dinner."

"I'm not pregnant," she whispered to herself as she typed in the number for her doctor.

"Is there any chance you're pregnant?" the doctor asked, staring into Tori's eyes.

"I have an IUD."

"I've seen it happen. Would you mind giving us a urine sample?"

Yay. Peeing into more things.

It didn't take long for the results to come back. The doctor entered the room holding a stack of paperwork.

"So, the urine sample came back positive for high levels of hCG. Which means you are pregnant."

"That's not possible."

"I know this is probably a lot to take in right now. I've written down some suggestions for a few OBs I reccomend. As well as some supplements we reccomend for the early stages of pregnancy. From the test, I'd say you're about three weeks."

"Shit. Um, sorry. Thank you. I'll, uh, call these numbers," Tori forced a smile, rushing off to get home.

"So? You are pregnant?" John asked, his eyebrow quirked.

"Yes. I just-"

"Okay."

"Okay? That's all you have to say?"

"What do you want me to say, Tori? 'Yay! I'm so excited to be a dad at 24!' Cause that'd be a lie."

"Stop acting like this is all my fault!"

"I never said that! I just... we've never even talked about having kids! This is all very sudden."

"How do you think I feel?! I'm the pregnant one! Now I have to tell all my friends and family that I got knocked up at 22!" she threw her purse down on the counter.

"You told me the IUD would work fine."

"Why are you blaming me? God, John! Grow up!"

"I should grow up?! You're the one yelling at me!"

"You're fucking infuriating!" she shouted, stomping off to their room. The door shut with a harsh slam, making the pictures on the wall swing.

"Fuck me," John muttered, grasping at his hair.

John slept on the couch that night, not wanting to deal with being yelled at again.

"We should talk about this, Tori," he offered at breakfast.

"Why? I'll just get the pregnancy terminated. You don't it."

"Tori... can we think about this? Make a rational decision."

"Why? Is getting an abortion not rational?"

"Not what I said. I just think you're still angry about yesterday, so you're not think rationally. We need to make a decision together here."

She rolled her eyes, "You made it clear how you feel."

"Did I?"

"Yeah, I think your words were 'I'm not excited to be a dad at 24!' So, there's our answer. You won't have to be," she sassed.

"Victoria, sit down."

"You're not my fucking dad."

"Stop acting like a child! Sit down!"

John rarely yelled at Tori, so the tone of his voice had her sitting right back down.

"Thank you. Listen, I'm not thrilled to be a dad right now, but I'm not telling you to end the pregnancy. I- we can make this work. I want you to make the final decision, but I won't be leaving if you decide this is what we're doing. I love you. And I support whatever decision you make. I will love that baby unconditionally."

"I... I need time to think about everything," she nodded, her lips pursed.

"I understand. But I really don't want to continue this arguing. I want us to enjoy our trip to Massachusetts. Not dwell on this and see our family."

"Okay, I have another appointment in January. You can come... if you'd like. I don't want to tell our families yet."

"Of course... I love you."

She sighed, "I love you too. No more fighting?"

"No more fighting," he nodded.

2022

Tori knew that nobody in the waiting area was judging her, but she felt judged. Her leg was bouncing, her nerves getting the best of her. She was filling out the paperwork that they'd given her. John placed a comforting hand on her thigh, trying to calm her.

"They're removing the IUD today. I don't know if you wanna be in there when they do it."

"I'll stay for moral support."

"Are you sure?"

"Why not," he shrugged.

Tori opened her mouth to respond when her name was called.

"Is your boyfriend coming with us today?" the nurse smiled.

"Yes, if that's okay."

"No problem! The doctor will be right in. We're going to start with the IUD removal. So if you could just strip from the waist down, she can get started."

"Do you want me to turn around?" John asked, taking a seat on the chair in the corner.

"No? Nothing you haven't seen before."

She sat down, throwing the sheet they'd.given her over her legs.

"Nervous?"

"A bit. It hurt to get in. People say it's worse coming out."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Want me to hold your hand?"

"That'd be nice," she smiled.

There was a knock at the door, "We all ready in here?"

"Yep. Come in."

"Hi, Victoria! I'm Dr. Reese. It's nice to meet you!"

"Hi. This is my boyfriend, John."

"Nice to meet you as well! We're going to start with the IUD removal, then we can start chatting about baby. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Is it okay if John holds my hand?"

"Of course! Alright, scooch, scooch. Perfect. Take a deep breath for me."

Tori inhaled, squeezing John's hand. Her eyes screwed shut. A pained breath escaped her mouth. Even John squinted, watching as the doctor pulled on the little strings.

"And done!"

"Thank God," Tori whispered.

"I'll step out! You can throw your clothes back on and I'll be back in a minute with the ultrasound machine."

"You ready?" Tori asked John, buttoning up her jeans.

"Yeah," he shrugged, sitting back down.

John and Tori had discussed things the day before. They were keeping the baby. It was an emotional discussion. Talking about the logisitcs of the whole thing. Especially with her still in school and John playing hockey.

"Ready to see baby?" the doctor smiled brightly.

"Yeah."

"Mhm."

"Alright. I warmed up the gel, it shouldn't be too bad," Dr. Reese moved the wand over Tori's lower abdomen. "And here is baby."

It looked like a little blob, but it still made John's eyes water.

"So, you're about 6 weeks. Measurements look good. I'll want to see you again around 18-20 weeks. You can schedule that on your way out. Congratulations, again."

"You alright, babe?" Tori asked, noticing how quiet John had gotten.

"Hm, yeah. I just... I didn't think I'd be this emotional. Especially over what looks like an alien."

Tori laughed, "Don't call our baby an alien!"

"I'm sorry," he giggled, wiping his eyes, "But it does look a little like an alien."

"Okay... maybe just a little."

The couple left the doctors' office laughing quietly to themselves, their hands intertwined.

Six Months Pregnant - May 2022

It was three in the morning and Tori was sobbing, "You don't understand, John. We're out of pickles."

"I heard you. I just... I don't understand why you're crying."

"I need pickles, John," she cried.

"I- I don't know where to get you pickles at 3am. Everything is closed."

Tori pulled herself out of bed, storming into the kitchen. She dug through the fridge and freezer, trying to find anything that would help her cravings. She pulled a bowl of watermelon out of the fridge, digging in.

John sluggishly joined her in the kitchen, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'll get you pickles in the morning."

She just nodded, taking another forkful of melon. It wasn't as fulfilling was a jar of mini dill pickles, but it was helping. She couldn't even count how many jars of pickles she'd gone through during her pregnancy, but this was the first time they'd been out. It felt like the end of the world to her pregnancy hormones.

John loved Tori to bits, but the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy was beginning to make him tired. He knew it wasn't fair and that she was going through much more, but lord was he exhausted.

"Do you want me to stay here? Or should I go back to bed?"

She shrugged, shovelling more food into her mouth. John sighed, coming around the counter. He placed a hand on her waist and one on her growing stomach.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Do you want to go back to bed?"

She hummed, taking one last bite. They shuffled back to the bedroom, Tori hugging onto her pregnancy pillow. John fucking hated the thing, but Tori couldn't sleep without it, so... he'd deal with it for the next three months.

August 2022

John had just been traded from Pittsburgh to New Jersey and now... it was time for their baby to enter the world.

"Ah!" Tori gripped her stomach. She was walking around the hospital room, waiting to be fully dilated. John was being supportive as possible, getting her more ice chips when requested and holding her hand when ever she felt a contraction. "Is it time yet?"

"The nurse said it could be a while, because it's your first."

"It's going to be our only. Holy shit! Why did you do this to me?"

John laughed, "I'm sorry, baby. You're the strongest woman I know. You've got this. Do you want to use the yoga ball again?"

"No! I just want the baby out of me!"

"And they said that the yoga ball will help that."

"Fine," she groaned, squatting down on the blue yoga ball. John smiled, watching as she bounced up and down, her cup of ice chips in her hand.

"They'll be back with the epidural soon. Then it'll be smooth sailing," he comforted.

10 hours later and she was finally pushing. She was squeezing John's hand so tight he thought it might break. But he tried to be supportive nonetheless.

"One more big push, Mama," the doctor smiled.

"I can't do it."

"You've got this, Tori," John whispered.

"I can't do it."

"Just one more push and our baby is here, love."

She braced, feeling the pressure one last time. She pushed and a wail filled the room.

"And here's baby boy."

"It's a boy?" John was smiling so wide, it hurt his cheeks.

"It is. Want to come cut the cord, Dad?"

He nodded excitedly, watching as they gave his son his first bath.

"Here you go, Mama," they placed the baby on her chest.

"Hi, baby," she was too tired to cry, but her son was so beautiful. He had a head of dark hair which explained the heartburn she'd had during the pregnancy.

"We'll be back in a bit to help you get him to latch. And then they'll be in with the name paperwork."

"Here," John smiled, unbuttoning part of her gown so she could do skin to skin.

"Riley."

"Hm?"

"Riley Alexander Marino."

"It's perfect, baby. Here, I'll hold him. You get some rest."

December 2022

Things were falling apart. The couple was arguing almost every day. Tori was struggling. She hated the way she looked and that feeling of numbness was starting to creep back in. But she wouldn't allow it, she needed to be there for Riley.

John was going through the hockey season and adjusting to a new team. He was barely home. And when he was, he was beyond tired. Not being much help at all. Night shifts were nonexisitant. It was always Tori getting up to get their son. John either "slept through it" or "was too tired from hockey."

Everything came crumbling down a week before Christmas.

"You're not any fucking help! Ever!" Tori yelled, throwing the burp cloth down on the counter. "I haven't left the apartment in days! I haven't been able to take a shower in days! All I do is take care of Riley!"

"Your his mom! Did you think you wouldn't have to take care of him?!"

"God! That's not what I meant and you KNOW it! Your his dad! When are you going to step up and actually do some fucking work?"

"I'm providing for us, Victoria! Would you rather I quit and we have no income?!"

"That's it. I'm leaving!"

"You're leaving?! Where are you going?"

"Anywhere that you aren't, John. I can't fucking deal with you right now. Call me when you've grown the fuck up and decide you actually want anything to do with your son," she stormed off to the bedroom, throwing things into a duffle bag.

"Victoria! You can't just leave! Talk to me!"

"I can leave! I can do whatever the fuck I want!"

"You- you can't just leave with Riley!"

"Sure, I can! Not like you parent him at all!"

"Victoria!"

"No! Fuck off!"

The screaming woke Riley from his nap and his wails soon filled the apartment as well.

"Great! Look what you've done!" John threw his hands up in frustration.

"What I did? You're so fucking immature. Stop acting like you're 12 and start acting like the 25-year-old you are!" Tori went to the nursery, grabbing some of Riley's things and putting them in the bag as well. She picked up her son, strapping him into his carrier. John was standing in the door, shell-shocked.

"Please, Tori. Just think about this. Please."

"No. I'll be back for more of our things in a couple days," she shook her head, leaving John all alone in the apartment.

March 2023

It was official. John and Victoria were done. Tori had gotten her own place and Riley went to see John every weekend. Slowly but surely, John and Tori were forming a friendship. They wanted things between them to be good for Riley.

And this friendship leads us to where we are now...

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #john marino #njd imagine

118 notes · View notes

romana-after-dark · 6 months

Text

Rooms on Fire: Crystalline

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Madonna is blissfully unaware of the world around her.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: Pregnancy, uuuhhhhhhhh mostly fluff and angst but not bad angst. kinda break up? pushing an shoving and shit. implied violence.

2.8k words

"Do you always trust your first initial feeling? Special knowledge holds true, bears believing I turned around and the water was closing all around like a glove Like the love that had finally, finally found me Then I knew in the crystalline knowledge of you"~Crystalline, Fleetwood Mac

“Ow.”

Frankie whimpers as Will tends to his wounds, shirtless in Will’s med room. William found him in here, trying to disinfect his arm from the bites.

“It’s alright, I’m almost done.” He wrapped Francisco up in gauze, gentle hands on the shaking man.

“Please don’t tell Ben…”

Will sighs, finishing up his job. “He doesn’t talk to me anyway. But Frank, listen.” He looked at Francisco earnestly. “Santi’s catching on. You’ve gotta be more careful.”

Francisco shook his head. “There’s no being careful. There’s no nothing. I’m not… we’re not…” He sighs. “I can’t keep doing this. It’s gonna get Ben killed.”

Although looking sympathetic, there was a soft smile on Will’s face. “That’s why I’ve always liked you, Frank. Someone’s gotta look out for him.”

“You still do, he just doesn’t know it.”

“C’mere.” Will beckoned, bringing Frankie close with his large hand entangling in his brown locks. Will hugged him, then pulled away just enough for a kiss. “You’re a good man, Francisco.”

He kissed back, but refused to compliment. “No… I’m not, I can’t stand up to Santi, I can’t have Ben the way I want I can’t protect Madonna-”

A deep kiss interrupted Frankie, Will’s broad, firm body pressing him up against the counter. “You’re protecting them both, you’re doing the right thing.” Will cupped Frankies face, towering over him. Francisco couldn’t help falling into him, submitting to his strength, his power, his dominance. Will brought his hand down, cupping Frankie’s length through his sweats and stroking him to full hardness. “You’re taking care of them, and I’m going to take care of you.”

Francisco whimpered, relaxing against the counter as he closed his eyes, sinking into Will’s presence.

“T-Thank you…”

“You’re improving a lot.” Santiago compliments you. He sat in his usual spot, watching you paint your latest project. You’d seen it a few nights ago, Francisco in a flower crown, smiling with his eyes closed with Pope behind him, kissing his neck. Pope was very pleased with this most recent project, coming to watch you every day. He must really be proud of you.

Sipping his wine, he smiled at you from over his glass. This was your special time together, and you always looked forward to it. You were starting to show just a little, and you frequently caught him staring at your stomach.

“Thank you, Pope.” You giggle, adding color to the flowers in Francisco’s hair. Blue, yellow, red, white.

Pope didn’t touch you sexually, he hadn’t since you learned you were pregnant. There was no need, he said, but he still kissed you, still held you, his hands caressing your stomach. You’d made him proud, and that’s what mattered. That’s all you’d wanted to do since you were a child.

“Are you going to talk to me?” Will asked his brother, but Ben didn’t turn around. He was doing target practice with his arrows. There was a limited amount of guns and Ben liked to know he could make long distance shots to protect the house if needed.

“Ben, come on. I thought we moved past this when I saved your fucking life.”

He turned around, lowering his bow. “You were protecting Madonna, not me.”

Will rolled his eyes. “She’s not here, we don’t gotta pretend.”

“I’m not? What are you talking about?”

Benny looked genuinely… confused. “You don’t remember what happened at the announcement?”

Ben scoffed, when back to shooting. “Of course I fucking do. See, this is the problem with you! You always doubt me!”

“Ben, someone tried to shoot you, one of your psycho little girlfriends because you can’t keep it in your pants even thought you’ve got 2 dicks and a pussy you’re fucking married too, but that’s not enough-”

Ben swung around again, this time pointing his arrow at Will. “Don’t fucking act like I’m stupid!”

Did Ben actually not know what happened? The lie was his idea… “Okay… okay I’m sorry.”

“Melody tried to kill Madonna because she was jealous! That’s it! Nothing else happened!”

“I didn’t say anything did…”

In a fit, Ben growled and for a moment Will wondered if he was about to get shot again, but instead Ben broke his bow and arrow over his knee. Screaming, he threw it on the ground and stomped until they were just sticks. Ben stormed off.

You lay on top of Francisco in your meadow, kissing on him gently, soft and sweet. His poor lip was healing finallly. Francisco stopped you when you go to unbutton his green shirt. You look down at him curiously.

“Oh, do you not want me? I guess I’m pregnant already, I can-” You move to get off him, embarrassed. Maybe he didn’t like your body as you gained weight? Maybe he just didn’t see a reason to fuck you. Maybe he didn’t like you again…

“Stay, please.” Francisco kissed you deeply, his cock twitching in his pants. “I just… I want my shirt on, please… ”

“Oh, of course…” You pat his tummy, wondering if maybe he shared some of your insecurities. He was certainly the fluffiest of the four, but you absolutely adored the way he looked, his body was perfect to you. “I think you’re… so, so handsome, you know that, right?” you weren’t good at flirting, even this made your face grow warm, but you wanted him to know how much you loved him.

Frankie blushes. “Thank you, but I’d rather keep the shirt on… if that’s okay…”

You kiss his sweet, pouty lower lip with a little peck, considerate of his bite. “Anything for you, my perfect husband.”

You made love in the meadow, trees and flowers and birds and bee’s, all of nature surrounding you, all of heaven and earth shining their approval.

Ben stumbled into Frankie’s room, loudly, making the older man just in his bed. He was asleep on his stomach, and the noise scared the absolute shit out of him

“Frankie!” He raised his hands, shouting.

“JESUS Benjamin, what the hell!” He gets out of bed, wide awake now. He was wearing a shirt, no buttons. “Are you-” Francisco turned on his light and cupped Ben’s face. “You’re drunk again? What the fuck Benjamin!”

Not in the mood for a lecture, Ben stumbled forward and gripped Francisco’s hair, yanking him forward into a bruising kiss. For a moment, Francisco melted into him. He didn’t care that his lip throbbed, or that his shoulder and arm still hurt to move. He didn’t care about what he was supposed to be doing. He just wanted Ben, his handsome, sweet, fun, goddamnhestall husband, Ben. He kissed him back.

But then he felt his cock, free of any constraint hardening, and he remembered. He’d not supposed to be fucking Ben like this anymore.

Frankie gently nudged him back, but Ben didn’t stop, moving to kiss his neck, holding him close.

“Benjamin, we can’t-”

“We can.” Ben sucked a hickey into his skin, spitting into his hand to stroke Francisco. “You and me, Frankie. We belong together.” Although slurring just a bit, Ben’s voice was deep, gravely with need, dark and hungry and oh-so spine tingling.

“But…” frankie protested between kisses, making no real attempted to move away as he licked into Ben’s mouth, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. “Santi… Madonna…”

Ben spat his words. “Fuck ‘em. They don’t matter, only you matte Frankie. Only you.”

He wanted to believe that, he did… he couldn’t. “Is that why you still fuck both of them?”

“I have to, you know that-” Ben sucked on his tongue, fighting the urge to nibble at his lip, make his own mark.

“Do you ‘have to’ fuck every woman in Delta?”

Ben shoved him so hard he stumbled back, it took a second for him to realize what happened.

Francisco blinked, then with a puff of his chest he shoved Ben back, making him fall into a side table. When Ben looked up, his blue eyes were large and wet. Frankie wanted to run to him, apologize, help him up… but he needed this to end. Ben wasn’t going to run away with him, and messing around with Benjamin, even if he was the one he wanted, was going to get Ben killed. Francisco couldn’t stand to let that happen.

“This needs to stop, Ben. I’m not doing this anymore.”

From on the floor, the 6’3 strongman man looked small, weak, vulnerable. Francisco’s heart shattered as he screamed. “GET OUT!” He took hold of his shirt in both fists and shoved him the rest of the way out the door.

Frankie locked out the other half of his heart.

You sigh constantly, sinking further into the water. Will just got done washing your hair, and now he was giving you a soothing milk bath, even putting flower petals in it. Knelt beside you, he had a super soft washcloth and was simply using it to run warm water over your body. He put lavender in the water, commenting that he thought had more left. Not wanting to lie you tell him the truth, that you and Rey found it you used it on Pope. You apologize for going through his things for spilling it. Will said it was totally okay.

The pregnancy had gone pretty smooth, so far no problems but you were having your usual sleep issues. You and Will developed a routine to help you sleep. Ever since he was shot, you’ve been sleeping in his bed. Now, he liked to give you a lavender bath before bedtime. He’d relax you, sometimes finger fuck you if you needed your mind cleared, then once you began nodding off he drained the water, patted you dry and then carried you to his room in a big towel. There, he dressed you in comfortable pj’s and tucked you in with him. It was nice, you felt safe, and best of all, no incubus.

“Such a pretty woman…” Will mutters, putting down the cloth to massage oils into your skin. It felt nice being pampered.

You giggle. “Thank you.”

“Everything going good with the others?” Will always checked in on you, which you appreciated. He helped you navigate things in the house and with Pope especially.

“Going great, thank you. Francisco seemed down there for a little but I think he’s cheered up.”

Will hummed in agreement. “I noticed that too, but you’re right, I think he’s happy now. Frankie had low moods sometimes, but he just needs a little patience and kindness when he does. And you give him that so well, thank you.” He kissed your forehead. “Such a good little wife.”

“And you’re such a good husband.” You tickle his arm, making him smile.

“Anything for my princess.”

Pope was gentle today.

Francisco was on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow trying to avoid tempting Pope with his mouth.

“So fucking pretty…” He slowly thrust inside him, softening cockcovering itself in cum. He looked how Frankie looked with his cum leaking out. “Beautiful…”

Santi laid down beside Francisco, and Frankie was ashamed to say he took comfort in the touch. He wanted to hate Santi, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t hate a man he’d known his whole life, who he’d shared that life with day in, day out. They were never apart.

“I’m so happy with you, Frank…” He kisses Frankie’s head, and Frankie can’t help but smile. He liked Santi’s kisses when he was being nice.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t a lie.

You squeal, dashing around the table to avoid Ben who chased after you with a cup of water in his hand. To be fair, you started the water fight, and now both of you were drenched in water, especially after he took out the kitchen spray in the sink and showered you. Ben laughed, giving chase but he slipped on a puddle, falling on his ass.

“Ben!” You gasp, laughing still as he disappears behind the table, and you run around to check on him. Big mistake.

“BOO!”

“AH!!”

Ben threw his cup of water at you, drenching you all over again. You dump your water on his head and then make a mad dash to get more. You weren’t above getting him while he’s down.

“Oh no you don’t!” Ben scrambles up, scooping you up as you scream and laugh, carrying you to the sink.

“BEEEEN!” You playfully smack at his chest, putting up a pretend fight. “What are you doing!!”

“Winning!” Benny placed you in the empty sink and turning on the faucet over your lap.

He doesn’t see it coming when you grab the sprayer.

Will heard the shouting from Frankie’s room. Jesus, they were not subtle. It wasn’t until he heard the crash he knew they weren’t fucking. Getting up to investigate, he was just in time to see Ben getting his ass thrown out of Frankie’s room. Standing in the hall, he watched Ben, clearly drunk, curl up in a ball on the floor and cry.

Ben didn’t want much to do with Will, not as a brother. Although they worked well together in matters revolving around their family, their community, their woman, Ben didn’t want the closeness and friendship they used to share. Will had hoped after he was shot, Ben would throw his jealousy aside, that he would see that Will loved him and for a moment, he did. When Will was shot, Ben stayed at his side, crying even though the shooter was still at large. He risked his life for him, even with Frankie screaming and pulling at him. Ben helped patch him up, not trusting Iris.

Now Ben was back to Ben, a sad, alcoholic slut.

Will knelt by his sobbing brother’s side, pulling him into his strong arms. Will loved Frankie, but right now Frankie wasn’t his husband. He was the man that broke his baby brother's heart.

“It’s gonna be okay, Benny. It’s gonna be okay.”

You sat on the counter, watching with joy as Reyansh poked at Iris, wrapping his arms around her and swaying. He’d been trying to cheer her up after she’d hovered over him and his black eye. Reyansh said it was standard sparring training for the guards and someone got a good shot in, and Jonah confirmed this, but Iris still fussed over him.

“C’mooooon, smile. Baby.”

“No, I’m grumpy.” But a smile was slipping.

Jonah appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Sing to her, that’s a guarantee.”

“Oooohohoho no you don’t!” Iris poked at his chest. “That’s cheating!” Iris was a sucker for Rey’s singing.

It was too late. “Love’n you, is it the riiiigh thing to dooooo”

“Reeeeeey”

He turned her around to face him, and she was already smiling. “How can I, ever change things that I feeeeeeeel!”

She giggled as Rey spun her around. “You know this is my favorite! It’s not fair.”

“If I could, baby I’d give you my world!”

Jonah approached you. Things had still been awkward, but the way Jonah protected you at the shooting made you know for sure that he still cared about you. He held out a hand.

Rey took Iris’s hands, doing the twist with her. You liked how Iris’s curls moved around. She was always pretty, but god, when she smiled. You saw why Rey loved her.

“HOW CAN I WHEN YOU WON”T TAKE IT FROM MEEEE!”

You take Jonah’s hand and as soon as you hop down, he swings you around, paying attention to making sure you didn’t hit anything.

Jonah and Rey both sing, very loudly. “YOU CAN GO YOUR OWN WAAAAYYYYYY!”

Iris echo’d them “GO YOUR OWN WAAAAaaaaaayyy”

Jonah picked you up and spun you around, rey twirled Iris. “YOU CAN CALL IT ANOOOOOOTHER LONELY DAAYAYAYAYY”

“ANOTHER LONELY DAYYAYAYAYAY”

Reyansh took your hand, linking your arms and Jonah scooped up Iris and spun her.

“YOU CAN GO YOUR OWN WAYYYY”

You sang with Iris “GO YOUR OWN WAAYYY”

Rey sang the rest of the song, you all took turns dancing. You didn’t dare try to dance with Iris, but to your surprise, she took you in her arms, pulling you close and dancing with you too. She smelled like wildflowers.

Earlier that day…

Rey was whistling down the hall as usual. Today was a good day. It was bright and sunny out, and Iris had a surprisingly low work load. She even agreed to spend the night in his room, which, outside of the potential benefits, meant he got to hold her all night. What more could he ask for in life?

Oh! And he saw Frankie outside gardening, and maybe they shared a blunt. What about it! Yeah, he was in a great mood.

“Saha? A word?” Will’s voice called behind him. Rey rolled his eyes before turning around. Great, this guy.

Rey out on a fake smile and turned around. “What can I do for you.”

Will was standing with his hands tucked into his pockets, a small smile on his face, but it wasn’t comforting, not like Jonah’s smile.

“Was talking to The Madonna last night, she said you helped her break into my room to get my oils?”

AAHHHHHHHHHH thank you so much for sticking with me!!! I'm so happy to have you!!!!

If you enjoy this, you may enjoy Awakening over at my main @romanarose! I have a commission to do, (IronPope!!) but then im gonna REALLY try and crack down on the last chapter. lots of bisexuality, ironpope,fishben, and the sweetest orgy you've ever read

If you're in the "I wanna fuck Jonah" club, I wrote a commission that is NON CANON with pre ROF Jonah, non-madonna reader and Marcus (david harbour), where you're fucking both of them <3 the actions arent cnon but the insights into the characters are!

Madonna and Iris. Alicia is shipping it! What do you think?

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

How to keep up with the story!

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Tags are working like SHIT these days for me and many, many others so make sure to follo the rooms on fire tag or my update account.

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If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

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sprite-writes · 6 months

Text

gunmetal blue

chapter 1/?

Dale Cooper/Reader

Summary: Agent Cooper is saddled with a new partner–against his better judgment. She’s a mess–aimlessly stumbling her way through the FBI with a past shrouded in mystery. Grappling with this change, and a puzzling case in a small town, Cooper’s lost. He finds the path forward in the last way he’d expect.

word count: 2,605

A/N: woah new fic! this is sort of my side project while I work on cloudy day, but it'll still have semi-regular updates! super self indulgent because I love twin peaks, even if everyone had moved on LOL. hope u enjoy <3 as with all my writing, special thanks to @lightning-writes

Dale wasn’t the type to be needlessly anxious. He was the farthest thing from an overthinker, he was a pragmatic man, he kept his sensibility about him. So, admittedly, it was out of character the way his leg had started to involuntarily bounce, brow sweat, and chest tighten. Gordan Cole’s office had never felt so small.

He should have known something was wrong with the way Gordan had called him into his office, hands clapping on his shoulders, guiding him into the room like a lost child. Now, with the announcement hanging in the air, he understood.

“I’m sorry, a-a new partner?”

“That’s what I said, Coop! Is your hearing going too?” Gordon’s deafening volume usually has no effect on him, but this time he flinches. Dale shifts, and the leather beneath him squeaks. Gordon doesn’t even look up from his computer, skillfully avoiding Dale’s appalled stare.

“Gordon, with all due respect, I don't need nor want a partner. Has there been something unsatisfactory about my work? Or-”

“Did you say something about a factory? Anyway, It's not up to me. She was sent here straight from the higher-ups. All I did was sign the paperwork.”

Dale sighs, his frustration thickening in his chest. His captain's eyes flick to him.

“I would’ve fought it if I thought it was such a bad idea, Coop. Don’t worry so much, She’s a sweet girl and a—how would you say it? A damn fine agent.”

“Isn’t there anyone else she could be assigned to?” he asks, and it feels like begging. Windom is 3 years behind him now, but that's three years he’s spent adapting to solitude. The idea of someone next to him on the field again unsettles him deeply, drudging up feelings he’s worked hard to forget.

“Agent, I know how you may feel about this. What, with your past and all, but keep an open mind. I think this could be good for you.”

Could be good?

“Sir–”

A knock on the door cuts him off, the frosted glass door swinging open without hesitation. The interruption leaves him with his complaints still sticking to his tongue.

“Gordon! I brought you coffee – you still take it with two sugars, right? Because there’s a cane’s worth in there.”

His vision is crowded by a woman in an oversized blue FBI jacket—besides her abrupt entry, she’s also out of uniform. Her denim blue jeans hug her waist and fray at the knees, with a jarringly casual t-shirt. The unprofessionalism rubs him the wrong way.

Two milky-colored coffee cups get dropped on the desk. Despite the breach of protocol, Gordon seems pleased to see her. There’s an affinity in his eyes, but she's a stranger to Dale.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Blue herself! We were just talking about you.”

“We?”

Her hair flicks over her shoulder, and her eyes widen.

“Oh! Hi! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I’m Blue.” She sticks out her right hand for him to shake– and it knocks straight into the two coffee cups, sending one tumbling towards Gordan and the other into his lap.

“Shit!”

He bolts up as hot coffee soaks his trousers. He vaguely registers Gordon's laugh as if an Agent didn’t just waltz in, wreck his office, and Dale’s drycleaning.

“Oh hell, I’m so sorry!” she shrills, peeling off her jacket frantically. The cheap polyester of the academy-issued zip-up presses against his wool-blend pants, the woman’s feeble attempt to clean the mess.

Dale’s anger alights, but he breathes deeply to tamp it down. Patience is a virtue, he tells himself.

She continues to dab at his pants, he pushes her hands away, taking the stained jacket from her, and tossing it on the chair behind him.

“It's fine, it’s fine,” he tells her tightly, despite the heat of his emotions, and the mild burns. When it rains, it pours, he supposes.

She looks up at him, clearly mortified.

“My bad, Sir,” she says lamely, and her expression scrunches up more.

“A hand, Kid?” Gordon asks and she’s more than happy to take her attention away from Dale. Gordon wipes his desk with a handkerchief, and with her hands free, she begins moving damp papers from his desk.

“Well, I’ll tell ya, Blue, you haven’t changed a bit since they shipped you off,” Gordon says fondly. Blue grimaces in a subtle way that Dale only notices because of the daggers he’s staring into her.

“I don't know about-” she begins. Gordon steamrolls her, likely not hearing a thing she said.

“Well, I suppose this is as good an introduction as any. Dale, meet your new partner, Special Agent Georgia Blue. Blue, meet Dale Cooper.”

He wanted to be surprised, really he did, but with fate’s track record, he didn't know why he would expect any better.

Dale goes home late that evening. With him, a stack of manilla folders all relating to one Georgia Blue. He recognizes a level of invasion here. He justifies it simply; Blue is an invasion of his space, so this grants him a degree of invasion to hers. He tries not to think about the morality of it too much, mostly because he knows if he does, he’ll be returning the files unopened. He lets his curiosity win this battle.

It doesn’t matter anyways; half the documents are redacted, large blocky sharpie lines interrupting every other sentence. He skims over what he deems unimportant– her physical description, age, schooling– when one thing catches his eye. Her bureau status, ambiguously labeled as ‘probationary warning: under review’

The FBI files aren’t all. There are DEA reports, too, all titled Operation Architect. He whispers the words to himself, something familiar in the back of his mind, vague memories and mentions of this Operation Architect. From his understanding, it had been DEA business, just watercooler talk that had made its way down to his office. He reads what he can.

January 10th 1988, SA Georgia Blue establishes contact with target, indefinite undercover placement to begin immediately.

Undercover placement? The rest of the paragraph is blocked out, and he’s left with more questions than answers.

His day feels like a pill he can’t swallow. He had vainly hoped that by understanding who this woman was, it would give him some artificial control of the situation, maybe even make it easier to choke down. He doesn’t understand why the dread in his chest continues to bloom.

He yawns, interrupting his thoughts. He supposes the rest of his investigation can wait for the morning, it wasn’t like the issue was going away anyways.

There are a few blissful moments the next morning when Dale wakes up, where the nightmare of yesterday is just that - a nightmare. The redacted files are forgotten on his desk. He makes his bed and brushes his teeth, and it isn't until he’s halfway through shampooing his hair, while he’s mentally scaling down his to-do list for the day that he remembers his plans are meaningless compared to the derailment that is Agent Blue. That is, his new partner Agent Blue. Just rolling over the word in his mind causes a headache to bud.

“Agents Cooper and Blue, partners, at your service,” he spits bitterly to himself. He gets shampoo in his mouth.

He’s bitter all the way to the station, questions and resentment swarming his mind.

He doesn’t even bother to chirp his usual good mornings to the doorman. Anger fits him like a jacket two sizes too small, he has to squeeze his way into it.

Perhaps the comfort of familiarity would calm him, he thought. A warm cup of coffee and the sanctuary of his desk. That’s what he needed.

“Good morning Dale,” Diane calls as he passes reception. He waves noncommittally.

“Morning Diane, any messages?”

“Not today, but Gordon wants to talk to you—he said to just come by when you have time.”

Dale sighs, and wonders what Gordon could possibly have in store for him this time.

“Is that all?”

“There’s just one other thing—I had to move your desk closer to the window to make room for the new girl – but don’t worry! I put everything back just as it was, and I was real careful too,” she smiles.

His eye twitches.

“Alright, Diane, thanks,” he mutters.

His desk is a foot from the window now, approximately 3 feet from where he had it before. He recalls the day he requested it to be there—having carefully stood in each corner of the precinct to find the exact shade-to-light ratio to situate himself.

It’s fine, he reasons, he’ll just squint.

In the ideal 4-foot spot from the window sits a brand new desk, with his brand new partner. If she hears him approach, she doesn’t show it, eyes glued to her dark computer screen. It doesn’t bother him, not one bit. He had spent the last three years' worth of mornings enjoying his coffee in silence, and, new partner or not, he would like that to remain the same. Who cares if she ruined his wool pants–doesn’t mean she has to say good morning to him too.

He sits down, much too close to the sun for his liking, and dives headfirst into paperwork. Still, he spares glances at her, in intervals, and mostly just wonders, why? Dale is a good agent, he knows this. His work and reputation precede him; a lone wolf, he thinks of himself. Then, out of nowhere, without warning, he’s saddled with a partner? An agent he’s never even heard of, who is apparently dipping half into DEA work. An agent who’s on probationary warning.

Perhaps they want him to babysit, he concludes. A rookie agent with some kind of classified disciplinary infraction, and they want him to turn her around. The thought reheats his anger. He’s a federal agent, not an academy trainer, and he has half a mind to let Gordon know that fact.

Five minutes into tense silence and deep thought, a hand smacks down on his desk. He startles but recovers smoothly.

“For yesterday,” Blue says tersely. His eyes follow her stony expression to her manicured hand. She moves and reveals a crumbled $50 bill she’d slapped on his desk.

“Agent?” he asks, confused and exasperated.

“For the pants, alright? Please, just take it.”

He stares at the bill quizzically.

“Ma’am, while I can appreciate the gesture, I assure you that it’s not necessary—“

She holds her hand up to stop him.

“I don’t care. I’m not taking the money back.”

She returns to her desk, intentionally angling away from him, staring intently at the computer screen that he can now see isn’t even turned on.

“...The power button’s on the back of the monitor.”

“...right.”

The computer screen comes to life, and she doesn't spare him a glance.

Partners, indeed.

When he finally has a moment to see Gordon, he’s gone over his speech 5 times in his head. Gordon, you know I respect you and your decision-making, but I am not a babysitter or some sort of camp counselor. I am formally requesting the reassignment of Agent Blue.

He says it again and again in his head, all the way to the door. He knocks loudly, in a way he knows Gordon will hear, and he gets back a muffled, “Come in!”

He does. When Gordon catches his eye, his expression is uncharacteristically unreadable.

“Close the door behind you, Coop,” he tells him. Dale shuts the door and takes his usual seat across from his boss.

“I’m glad you had the time to talk, I’m sure you have more than a few questions after yesterday,” he says levelly. Dale notes Gordon talking quieter than normal, it gives him an odd feeling like he’s in trouble.

“I do, Sir. I would like to firstly say that while I respect–”

“Now hang on there, Coop. First things first, I’m going to need you to return those files on Blue.”

Dale freezes, and his puffed-out chest deflates. It takes him a moment to form a sentence again.

“...May I ask why, Sir?”

Gordon sighs and fiddles with the wires of his hearing aid.

“You haven’t done anything wrong. This is all just a bit more complicated than I can tell you right now. I’m afraid I’m sort of left in the dark here, too. I’ll tell you what I can, but it’s not all that much. Anything else you learn is at the discretion of the bureau - and Blue. And I don't think either of em’ wants you poking around.”

The situation feels much bigger than him all of a sudden, even though it felt like something he could hold in the palm of his hand just a moment ago.

“Alright,” is all he can think to say.

“I knew Blue when she was in the academy, and let me tell you, she is bright. A little prodigy in her class, a bit like you, I’d presume. Anyway, I met her through her field training, she was a NAT here for a little while. Wasn’t too interested in homicide investigation, though. No, she’d taken a real liking to narcotics. Nasty business, I always thought, but to each their own,”

As he talks, he leans in close to Dale. Gordon’s inside voice is still quite loud, but Dale can tell he’s straining to lower it.

“She graduated and went straight to doing investigative work with the DEA. If I know you, and I do, I know you’ve picked through her file already. Do you know what Operation Architect is?”

“I saw the name, but I don't know much about it, no.”

“Neither do I, that’s DEA business, but I know she was on it, undercover for over a year. And I know it didn't go great. She was relocated here after the ordeal.”

Dale was hoping for this conversation to be more enlightening. He still feels trapped in the dark.

“I meant it when I said none of this was up to me. My boss wanted Blue assigned to you. I’d wager it's because of your good work, you’ve got a handsome reputation, but I couldn’t tell you for sure. Regardless, she's sticking around for a while, so make the best of it. She’s not quite how I remember her, but as long as she hasn't done a full 180 in a few years, I think you two could get along pretty well.”

Silence weighs down the room. Dale lets the new knowledge permeate his skin.

“Alright,” he says because there really isn’t anything else to say.

“Alright,” Gordon parrots.

Dale sits like he’s waiting for something else to happen. The crushing finality of it sits on his chest. All the determination he came in there with is withered away to nothing, just ashes of a once burning fire.

There’s no shirking this now, he has a partner. Cooper & Blue, FBI.

“I know this isn’t easy for you, and I wish there was more I could do. But to be completely candid with you, I don’t think it’ll be nearly as bad as you’re anticipating.”

Dale nods absently, drained of anything else to say. Gordon understands.

“You’re dismissed, Coop.”

He gets up, politely pushing in the chair.

Before his hand can touch the knob, Gordon grabs his attention again.

“Well, one more thing, actually.” Dale tenses, and the dread in his chest that had gone numb begins to flare up again.

“If I were you, I’d show her a bit of kindness. This line of work is messy, and I can't imagine what the hell happened for her to get sent here.”

Dale can’t imagine either.

#twin peaks #dale cooper x reader #dale cooper #twin peaks: the return #gordon cole #harry truman #laura palmer #yay chapter one!

50 notes · View notes

gintrinsic-writing · 9 months

Text

For You

@st-hedge always creates great art but this evening I saw this picture and had to write something for it. hopefully they don't mind i gave it an lu twist for angst (please dm me if that IS an issue)

“They call it the Downfall Timeline,” his husband murmured, features highlighted in resplendent bronze from the sunlight streaming across the balcony. “Those two exist only because of tragedy.”

Link threaded their fingers together. The backs of their hands shined with destiny’s humbling curse. “A tragedy not your doing.”

His husband sighed. Funny, that such a soft sound should come from such a fierce man. “Perhaps. Still, I cannot deny that my soul harbors—”

“We’ve been over this,” Link interrupted. He used his free hand to gently tilt his husband’s face toward him. “You are responsible only for yourself. You cannot control what happened in the past, or in other timelines; only what you choose to do with your life.”

“I want to believe you, I always do. But still, there are times…” His husband trailed off, ashamed to admit what they both already knew to be true.

“It’s alluring, isn’t it?” Link asked knowingly. “That kind of power, just waiting to be picked up? Hells, even darkness has a draw.”

His husband kissed him on the forehead, then the cheek. “Like you’d know.”

Link smiled, then flicked his husband over the heart. “I really do,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Finally, Link got what he wanted; his husband threw his head back and laughed. The world was richer for it. “That’s because you’re some wretched deviant,” his husband teased. “You’re not supposed to—”

“Wretched?” Link interrupted again with a huff, fakely affronted. “You think I’m wretched?”

“I notice you don’t deny your deviancy.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Link poked at his husband’s upper lip, amused by the large canine tooth this revealed. “But I'd argue I have impeccable taste. I’m basically an artist.”

His husband snorted loudly. “If the world depended upon your ability to draw a recognizable stick figure, we’d all be doomed.”

“That’s the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Link didn’t bother hiding his grin, but his amusement faded altogether when his husband once again glanced at the street below. The Downfall Duo met up with a larger group; nine heroes in total, just like the rumors had warned. They didn’t look like much, but that meant nothing when the goddesses were involved.

“Practically children,” his husband murmured, “yet still they frighten me.”

“Forget them. They’re not here for us.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Gan,” Link said, taking his husband’s face in both hands. “There’s nothing to fear. We turned our backs on that cycle long ago.”

His husband shook his head. “I doubt they’d agree. They’ll sense me soon enough—sense us. The Triforce will see to it.”

Link shrugged. “So what? Let them come. They’ll see for themselves the life we’ve made, how wonderful it is.”

The sun dipped below the rooftops. His husband’s eyes emitted a faint glow when he tilted his head. “And if they decide I’m a threat anyway?”

Link pressed his lips together and hummed, tangling his fingers in his husband’s long red hair. “If it comes to that, I suppose I’ll have to kill them.”

His husband shook his head slowly. “You’d kill Farore’s blessed, your own spiritual kin?”

Link leaned in, his breath ghosting against his husband’s lips. “For you? I’d do terrible, terrible things.”

And Ganondorf could only chuckle as he swept Link up and slotted their mouths together. Everything fell into place as it always did when he had Link like this. “Pray it doesn’t come to that,” he murmured at last, fighting the chill that destiny held over their shoulders.

“They better,” Link told him.

#fanart fic #lu fic #in a very vague sort of way #loz #loz fic #gintrinsic writing #ganlink #ganondorf

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awkward-imaginations · 1 month

Text

| Chemical Reactions |

tetsuro kuroo x f!reader

The first time Kuroo saw you was when he noticed you sitting with Kenma, happily playing video games together. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised when Kenma mentioned he had made a friend on the first day of the new school year. He didn’t share much about you, but Kuroo knew you had just transferred to Nekoma High and somehow you had piqued his interest.

warnings/notes: highschool romance, fluff (maybe suggestive?), slight angst, I do NOT write fanfictions or storys normally, this is a first, so I am generally sorry for everything. CRINGE. def will be cringe in some parts. I'm a big sucker for Kuroo, him and Kenma may be ooc but I don't care this is my silly story and I just need to get it out of my head so I can finally write my Master's Thesis in peace. Also, english is not my first language. This has been "proofread" by my friends (who are also non-native speakers, enjoy).

word count: 1862

first chapter | masterlist | next chapter

The next day passed in a blur, and before you knew it, school was over. You felt a nervous flutter in your stomach as you made your way to the library, where Kenma told you to meet Kuroo for your study session. It was hard to deny that you were looking forward to it, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a little anxious too.

You tried to focus on the fact that this was just a study session, that he was just helping you out with your PSP issue. But every time you pictured his messy hair or heard his deep voice in your mind...

What was it about him that drew you in? Was it his confidence, the way he seemed so sure of himself even when you were teasing him? Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that you were looking forward to seeing him—more than you probably should.

With each step closer to the library, your excitement grew, mingling with the nerves in your stomach. You weren’t just anxious about the chemistry problems you’d be tackling together; you were anxious about the way your heart might betray you when he looked at you with those intense eyes.

As you entered the library, your eyes quickly found Kuroo sitting at a table near the back. He was already settled in, a few books spread out in front of him, his usual confident smile on his face as he waved you over.

“Hey, Y/N-Chan,” he greeted you, his voice warm and welcoming. “Ready to tackle some chemistry?”

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks again for helping me.”

“No problem at all,” Kuroo said with a grin, pulling out a chair for you. “Let’s see what we can do to get that PSP back into your hands.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you took a seat beside him, pulling out your chemistry textbook. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Oh, I forgot,” he said and fetched a can of green iced tea out of his bag. “Kenma said it’s your favorite.” He held the can out to you with a grin. You took it with surprise and noticed that it was still cool. He must’ve just gotten it right before meeting you here.

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you, although—” He interrupted you directly, “Although?”

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” His eyes widened briefly, and his smile turned into a mischievous grin. “Yes, please, I love secrets.”

“Okay, but you can't say a word to Kenma.” You looked at Kuroo for a few seconds with a serious expression on your face before he hesitantly began to nod. After a few conspiratorial glances to the left and right, you moved your chair a little closer to him with a smooth motion to tell him in a hushed voice, “I actually like peach much better.”

Kuroo blushed a little more than he would have liked when he could feel your breath on his ear for a short time. But after he realized the content of your words, he had to suppress an abrupt laugh. It just seemed too absurd to him that you had confessed this secret to him in such an unnecessarily sexy way. For a brief moment, you feared you had said something stupid as he pressed his lips together to muffle the sounds and avoid getting the librarian's attention.

“Are you okay?” you asked anxiously, before Kuroo could finally calm down. After taking a few deep breaths, he finally answered, his cheeks still a little pink, “Next time, I'll bring you peach iced tea instead.” Relieved, you had to giggle a little. “If you bring me a good secret,” he continued, and your giggle turned into a soft laugh.

For the next hour, the two of you worked through various chemistry problems without moving your chair back to its original spot, with Kuroo patiently explaining the concepts you found difficult. He had a knack for making even the most complicated topics understandable, and soon you were enjoying the study session. Every time you got an answer right, Kuroo would give you an encouraging smile or a playful nudge, which only made you more determined to do well.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it,” he praised as you successfully balanced another chemical equation.

“I guess I just needed the right teacher,” you replied, a hint of shyness in your voice. Kuroo chuckled. “Well, Kenma didn’t call me a nerd for nothing. I’m glad I could help. You’re doing great, Y/N-Chan.”

As the study session continued, the initial nervousness you’d felt began to fade, replaced by a comfortable ease between you and Kuroo. There was something about his presence that made you feel relaxed, like you didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than yourself. You found yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing little stories from your past, all the while noticing how naturally the conversation flowed between you.

At one point, you caught yourself staring at Kuroo as he explained a concept, completely captivated by the way his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. The more you listened to him, the more you admired his intelligence and confidence. The way his tousled hair fell effortlessly into place, his deep, smooth voice, and the easy way he smiled at you—all of it made your heart skip a beat.

Realizing you’d been staring, you quickly looked down at your notes, feeling your cheeks heat up. You hoped he hadn’t noticed, but when you glanced back up, you caught the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, making you blush even more.

After a particularly tough problem, you let out a sigh of relief when you finally figured out the answer. Kuroo, clearly impressed, leaned back in his chair, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You know,” he began, his tone teasing, “if you keep improving like this, I might be out of a job.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I doubt that. I still have a lot to learn.”

“Well, I’m happy to help,” Kuroo said, his voice softening. His words hung in the air between you, filled with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. You met his gaze, noticing how his usual playful demeanor had shifted to something more genuine, almost tender.

“Thank you, Kuroo,” you said quietly, feeling a warmth spread through you. “That means a lot.” He smiled, a gentle expression that made your stomach flip. “Anytime, Y/N-Chan.”

Just as you were about to pack up your things, Kuroo reached into his bag with a mischievous grin and pulled out an old DS, the red casing slightly worn from years of use. He held it out to you, and you looked at him in surprise.

“What’s this?” you asked, glancing between the DS and Kuroo.

“I know your dad took your consoles, so I thought you might want to borrow this for a while,” he said, his voice casual, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. “It’s my old DS. It’s not much, but I figured it might help you pass the time during breaks. Plus, Kenma has one as well, so you two can play together again.”

Your eyes widened at the gesture, and you felt a mix of gratitude and something else—a growing affection for the boy who seemed to know exactly how to make your day a little brighter. “Kuroo, I...”

“Just take it,” he said with a shrug. “Consider it a temporary loan until you get your own stuff back.”

You carefully took the DS from him, feeling the smooth plastic under your fingers. “Thanks.”

Kuroo winked. “No problem. Just don’t let Kenma beat you too easily, okay?”

You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through you as you tucked the DS into your bag. “I’ll try my best.”

Kuroo noticed you were about to pack up your bag and quickly stepped forward, taking it from your shoulders with an easy, practiced motion. “Here, let me help with that,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes twinkling with a hint of playful mischief.

You followed him out of the library, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation as he carried your bag. The simple gesture made you feel unexpectedly cared for. As the two of you walked side by side through the school building, Kuroo babbled a little about the volleyball training that was starting again next week. “We’ll probably have to postpone our study sessions until after that.”

“You practice every day after school?” you asked with a little pout. That would not only mean that you would have to wait longer for study sessions with Kuroo, but also for online games with Kenma. Of course, you had to find out from Kuroo—not from him—that he also plays for the Nekoma team.

“Yeah, but you can be there, like I said. Well, if you want to,” he said with an apologetic smile. You nodded with a soft hum. Kuroo seemed to catch the slight disappointment in your voice, and his smile softened. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll still find time to study together. You might even enjoy watching the practices. We’re not too bad, you know.”

You glanced up at him, catching the playful glint in his eyes. “I’m sure you’re great,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, but the idea of spending more time with him, even if it was just watching volleyball, was more appealing than you expected.

As you reached the entrance of the school, the cool evening breeze greeted you, bringing a sense of calm after the intense study session. Kuroo stopped just outside the door and turned to face you, handing back your bag with a gentle smile. “Well, here we are. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded, taking the bag from him. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the comfortable silence stretching between you. You found yourself not wanting the moment to end, not wanting to walk away just yet. Kuroo seemed to feel the same way because he didn’t turn to leave immediately either. Instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned slightly towards you, his usual confident demeanor softened by something warmer, more sincere.

“Thanks for today,” you said, breaking the silence. “I really appreciate it.”

Kuroo’s smile widened, a hint of that mischievousness returning to his eyes. “Anytime. But don’t forget, you still owe me a secret.”

You laughed softly, the tension in your chest easing. “I’ll think of something good.”

“Good,” he replied with a wink. “I’ll be waiting.” With one last smile, Kuroo finally turned to head off towards the gym to check a few things for the coming week, leaving you standing there with a heart that was beating just a little faster than usual. You watched him go, the warmth from his presence lingering long after he disappeared around the corner. It wasn’t until you started walking home that you realized you were still smiling, a soft, content smile that stayed with you all the way back to your house.

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