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therealbeachfox · 11 months ago

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

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We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

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So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

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Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

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We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

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They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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mattyriddlesbitch · 9 months ago

Note

Theodore Nott talking dirty in Italian to fem reader who doesn’t know Italian but finds it super hot, with a smutty ending?

Yes! I love this idea. I think he'd love it a lot if you didn't speak Italian, just so he could tease you more. Also, I used google translate, so idk how accurate it is, but hopefully it works.

Dirty Talking

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Oral(Male receiving), cussing, unprotected sex, creampie.

18+ Minors DNI!

You always loved when your boyfriend would talk in Italian. Something about the way it sounded and rolled off of his tongue just did something to you. He could be saying anything in Italian and you’d want him to just take you right there as he kept talking.

And Theo noticed. He wasn’t stupid. He saw the way you would blush ever so slightly and press your thighs together. He just never said anything because he liked watching your reactions and he knew you’d try to stop your reactions if he mentioned them.

But when he was arguing with Draco about the quidditch practice as you all were heading back up to the castle, he slipped into Italian as he cursed him out. You suddenly got flustered and blushed. Theo noticed this, forgetting about the argument with Draco as he waved him off, dragging you away into a broom closet. He was frustrated and needed a release and he could tell you were turned on.

“Theo, what are you doing?” You asked as he closed the door behind you two.

“Ti scoperò.” He said into your ear as he pushed you against the wall, pressing kisses down your neck.

“Wait, what?” You asked, your brain trying to catch up with his actions as he spoke Italian.

“Ti scoperò. Sii buono con me.” He said before kissing you. It was rough, a hand in your hair and another on your waist. He pulled back and pushed you onto your knees, undoing his pants. “Così bello.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.” You said, but you could feel how wet you were becoming.

“You love it, though, don’t you, cara mia.” He smiled down at you as he pulled out his cock. “Aprire.” He said as he tapped his tip on your lips as he grabbed your hair.

You had no idea what he was saying, but you opened your mouth and he pushed your head down his cock until you gagged. He let out such a hot moan before guiding your head up and down his cock, tears building in your eyes as you held onto his thighs.

“Così dannatamente sporco. Look at what you do to me, principessa.” He moaned. “Mi prendi così bene.”

God, his fucking deep voice with those words. You didn’t even care what he was saying, it just sounded so good, so filthy to you.

“Merda. You’re so fucking good to me.” He said before pulling out of your mouth and up off the floor. He pushed down your panties before turning you around to press your front against the wall. “You’re so fucking wet from me talking in Italian, huh?” He slipped his fingers through your folds, feeling how soaked you were.

“Yes, fuck! Yes, it’s so good.” You moaned.

“Così sporco.” He said before removing his fingers and teasing your folds with his cock. “You want me to fill you up, mi amore?”

“Yes, please!”

“Who knew a little Italian would get you all slutty for my cock.” He teased before thrusting into you. He covered your mouth before you could make a sound. “Stai zitto. You want everyone to hear?”

He started thrusting, using his free hand to wrap around your front, holding you closer to him. You were moaning and crying out into his hand, your hands holding onto the wall for support.

“Così buono. You’re taking me so well.” He said quietly in your ear before kissing your neck. His chest was pressed against your back, trapping you against the wall as he kept fucking into you. “Do you wanna cum, principessa?”

You nodded against his hand, moans only getting louder as he angled his hips slightly to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

“Sei così avido. Sei così sporco. Lo adoro.” He said, moving his hand that’s wrapped around you to play with your clit. The combination of his dick inside you, him playing with your clit, and the Italian were enough to have you cumming in mere moments, trembling and crying out into his hand. “Brava ragazza. Good fucking girl.” He praised, helping you ride out your orgasm. “You gonna be a good girl and let me cum in you?” He asked as his thrusts sped up, chasing his own orgasm. You nodded against his hand again, whining and whimpering as he overstimulated you. He cussed as he came, slipped between English and Italian as he moaned in your ear, filling your pussy with his cum. He removed his hand from your mouth and pulled out, slipping your panties back up with a smile as he kissed your cheek. “Guess I found another weakness, huh, cara mia?” He teased.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut #thedore nott x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott smut #theodore nott x reader smut

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emmylksblog · 1 month ago

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GAVI BF HEADCANONS!

based on this request

a/n: i think it's accurate to his personality, tried to fit everything i could think of. hope yall like it! 🫶🏻

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is terrible at hiding his emotions. If he’s mad about something, he’ll sulk for exactly five minutes before bursting out with whatever’s on his mind. But if it’s about you, his frustration softens immediately: “I’m not mad at you, okay? I just… I care too much, that’s all.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi gets super competitive with you, even over silly things. Whether it’s who can fold the laundry faster or who wins at Mario Kart, he’ll take it way too seriously. But if you win, he’ll let out a dramatic groan and accuse you of cheating—before pulling you into a playful hug. “Fine, you’re better. But only this time.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi loves spontaneous adventures. If you’re lying around on a lazy Sunday, he’ll suddenly grab your hand and say, “Get dressed—we’re going out.” He doesn’t always have a plan, but somehow, his impulsive nature makes every outing feel exciting, whether it’s a drive to nowhere or ice cream at midnight.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi hates being apart from you. If he has to leave for a game, he’ll call or text you nonstop: “What are you doing? Are you eating? Are you thinking about me?” His teammates tease him, but he doesn’t care. “Shut up, this is important,” he’ll say, grinning at his phone.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is easily flustered by compliments. If you tell him he looks good before a game, he’ll try to act cool, but his cheeks will flush immediately. He’ll mumble a quick “Gracias, guapa,” then pretend to focus on his laces just to hide how much he’s blushing.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi has no chill when it comes to showing affection. If he’s proud of you, he’ll shout it from the rooftops. If he misses you, he’ll tell you ten times in one call. “I don’t care if I’m being annoying—I just love you, okay?”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi’s protective instincts kick in everywhere. If you’re out walking and it starts to rain, he’ll instantly take off his jacket and throw it over your shoulders, muttering something about “not letting you get sick.” He acts like it’s no big deal, but he’ll grumble if you try to give it back.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is obsessed with your laugh. He’ll do anything to hear it—bad impressions, dumb jokes, or even tickling you mercilessly. When you tell him to stop, he’ll grin mischievously: “Not until you admit my jokes are funny!”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi has a short temper, but you’re his exception. If anyone else frustrates him, he’s quick to snap, but with you, he’ll pause, take a breath, and say, “I don’t want to argue with you. Let’s figure this out, yeah?” He’s not perfect, but he’s trying for you.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi always forgets his own stuff but never yours. He’ll leave his keys or wallet behind constantly, but if you’ve mentioned needing something, he’ll somehow remember and surprise you with it. “You said you ran out of this, right?” he’ll ask casually, secretly proud of himself.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi insists on being your biggest fan. Whether it’s something big like a work presentation or something small like making the perfect coffee, he’ll hype you up as if you just won an award: “That’s my girl! I told you you’re amazing.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi loves subtle physical touch. He’ll rest his hand on your knee during long car rides, tug gently at your sleeve if he wants your attention, or intertwine his pinky with yours when no one’s looking. It’s his way of saying, “I’m here. Always.”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi is a mess when it comes to surprises. He’ll try to plan something cute, like decorating your room or buying you flowers, but he’s so bad at keeping secrets that he’ll end up blurting it out before the surprise happens: “Okay, don’t be mad, but I have something planned… just act surprised, okay?”

⚽︎ bf! Gavi pretends he doesn’t like cheesy romantic movies. But when you make him watch one, he gets way too into it, yelling at the characters or tearing up at emotional scenes. “I’m not crying—it’s just allergies,” he’ll say, avoiding your teasing smirk.

⚽︎ bf! Gavi talks about the future without realizing it. Whether it’s casually mentioning how your kids would “definitely love football” or joking about what kind of house you’d live in, his words always carry that unspoken promise: “I’m not going anywhere.”

#fc barcelona x reader #fcb x reader #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi #hector fort #hector fort x reader #headcanon

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komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year ago

Text

Imagine # 1,057

Gif NOT mine.

Year posted - 2023

Rating - SFW (Includes injuries involving flogging obviously.)

Reading time (roughly) - 10 minutes

It's been a while since I watched these movies, so some things are not going to be super accurate. Just roll with it my lovelies.

Pushing Will aside (Y/n) stepped forward to face Davy Jones. "I will take his place." She stated suddenly, confusing both Will and Davy Jones. "You will take his place?" The Captain asked in bemusement, a amused smirk on his lips. "Yes." She stated confidently, shaking off Will's arm when he tried pulling her back. "(Y/n) what are you doing?" He hissed at her, again trying to pull her away, giving up when she shook him off a second time. "And why should I let you take Mr. Turner's lashings?" Davy Jones asked, several of his crew mates chuckling at the absurd demand. "Because then he'll actually learn his lesson." She stated matter-of-factly before continuing. "Will's a proud man, if you punish him, he won't learn, he'll only disobey you again, and the cycle will continue." (Y/n) allowed the Captain a moment to think before continuing. "But he's also a honorable man, and should I be punished for his actions, he'll think twice about causing trouble." She concluded, and she could tell Davy Jones saw her perspective. "Very well. The woman will be flogged." The Captain concluded, his men quickly grabbing her arms, and pulling her to the mast. "No!" Will argued trying to put a stop to this, he was grabbed by his father and only held back for a few moments before he broke away.

"You can't do this!" He shouted when he reached her, attempting to pull the crew members away from her. (Y/n) pushed them away and faced Will. "Don't." She warned, not fighting the men when they took ahold of her shoulders. "If you interfere, you'll only make this worse for me." She hissed at him, her serious expression turning to shock when the crew mates tore the back of her shirt open. "Captain get a look at this!" One of the guys barked with amusement, turning (Y/n)'s back to Davy Jones who stood with the rest of the crew. The crew burst into laughter, and the Captain chuckled in amusement. Her back bare to his gaze, Will gawked in astonishment at the sight, where over a dozen large scars littered her back. "It would seem this isn't the first time you've been flogged." Davy Jones mused, waving his arm for them to continue. "No no I can't-!" Will shouted when his father dragged him back by the shoulders. "Will you need to stop, if you keep this up, they will whip her to the bone." His father warned, and the young man went slack, knowing his words were true. "But shes- I-" Will muttered, cutting himself off as he locked eyes with her. "I know son, I know." The old pirate pat his sons shoulder in a vain attempt to comfort him. (Y/n) was shoved against the ships mast, her arms pulled around it, and bound tightly with rope. "She doesn't deserve this." Will muttered mournfully, his heart breaking at the sight of the fear building in her eyes. "She's a tough woman, she will be fine." Bootstrap consoled his son, releasing his hold on him, believing Will wouldn't do anything stupid or rash.

The first strike pulled a pained cry from the woman, and blood stained the deck, instantly getting washed away with the rain. Will couldn't control himself, when the second lashing came, rushing forward to comfort her. "Will don't!" Bootstrap shouted, but it was to late. Will stood before her, taking her hands in his, and resting his forehead against hers. One of the crew mates moved to pull Will away from her, assuming he was trying to free her. "Leave him." Davy Jones commanded, knowing Will wasn't trying to untie her, and allowing him to remain so close to her, knowing it would only hurt him more. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Will wept as she was struck again, and again. Her cries choked and breathless, the pain splitting across her back nearly unbearable. "I swore to protect you." His whisper was pained, as he peered into her watery eyes. "I'm so sorry I have failed you." He squeezed her hands, his own heart breaking at the sound of the whip crack. On the eighth whip crack, (Y/n)'s knees buckled and she fell slack against the mast. Will quickly moved his hands to grab the underside of her bent arms, and pull her to stand up straight. Knowing if she was hunched down, the whip was likely to strike her head, and the man wielding damned thing wouldn't care. "It's almost over." He tried to assure her, knowing the sentencing was only ten lashings. "Hang in there." He whispered, their tears mixing with the heavy fall of rain, foreheads resting together.

The ninth strike, and every muscle in her body shook from the shock, and pain of it all. The tenth and final strike came harder than the others, the force making (Y/n) crumble to the ground, despite Will's attempts to keep her upright. "She has the rest of the day to rest, but I expect her to be on deck working first thing in the morning." Davey Jones dismissed, the crew mates departing to go about their work, leaving Will to help (Y/n). "Take it easy, I've got you, I've got you." He murmured quickly untying her hands, and easing her into his arms as gently as he could. She whimpered in pain, clinging to his arms, her body still shaking from the shock and pain. "Easy firefly easy." He murmured softly, the nickname bringing a ghost of a smile to her face. "I'm okay Will." She murmured weakly, trying to stand on wobbly legs. Instinctively Will wrapped his arm around her back, nearly jumping away from her when she cried out in pain. She fell forward in an instant, and Will rushed forward to catch her in his arms. Now chest to chest, his hands rest firmly on her hips. Swiftly he hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and buried her face into his neck. "I'm sorry, I've got you now." He whispered into her hair as he carried her below deck. Once they were below deck, and away from prying eyes, Will sat her atop a sturdy table.

"I need to clean your wounds." Will stated in a soft tone, slowly moving to unbutton her now ruined shirt. Moving slow enough to give her the opportunity to push him away, should she want him to stop. She didn't fight him, and allowed him to slide the shirt off of her shoulders. Gently he slipped the shirt from her arms, and tossed the ruined fabric aside. He kept his eyes locked with hers, as she sat before him, bare from the waist up. "Why did you do it?" He asked the question that had been burning in his mind like hellfire. "To keep you from causing any more trouble." She murmured, her words only making Will scoff. "Bullshit. Why did you do it?" He insisted. "Because it's what you do!" (Y/n) suddenly shouted as best she could, grunting at the pain in her back. "You protect the ones you love, no matter what it takes." She huffed before slumping forward. Despite the shock he felt at her words, Will was quick to catch her by the shoulders. "You..." He tried to gather his thoughts, a far away look in his eyes. "Forget it." She grunted, holding herself upright and turning her back to him. "My cuts need dealt with." She reminded him, and in a instant Will rushed to work. Carefully he cleaned each of the open wounds, unable to keep his mind from running a mile a minute. His fingers subconsciously tracing over one of the old scars, muttering an apology when she suddenly pulled away from him.

"What happened?" He asked in a soft whisper. (Y/n) chuckled bitterly, glancing over her shoulder. "The life of a pirate isn't an easy one... Especially with a brother like Jack." She muttered the last part so only Will could hear. "Your-?" He cut himself off, knowing if Davy Jones found out, it could end horribly. "He's reckless." She chuckled again. "Just like someone else I know." Will smiled softly when she glanced over her shoulder at him. "I never meant for you to get hurt." Will muttered as he prepped a needle and thread. "Yeah I know." She shrugged a little. "But I also know that what I told Davy Jones is true. Had it been you to get flogged, you would have ended up making the same mistake of pissing off the Captain of the Flying Dutchman." He hated to admit it, but he knew she was right. "And if I was the one to get hurt, you might actually take the time to stop and think, and maybe just maybe you'd learn to keep your head down." She continued, hissing when Will began stitching her wounds. "We can't just do nothing." Will said, trying not to sound angry. "Jack will come for us, we just need to bide our time." (Y/n) said in a soft tone. "Jack? How can he possibly save us? You heard what Davy Jones said." Will argued, trying to keep his hands steady as he worked on her stitches. "He owns one hundred souls... How can he possibly get one hundred souls?" Will's voice was mournful. "Do you know how Jack came to owe Davy Jones so many souls?" (Y/n) asked pain evident in her voice, making Will slow his work.

"To get back the Pearl." Will stated, and (Y/n) chuckled softly. "Eighty souls would have bought him the Pearl. The other twenty were for me." She explained, her words making Will still in his work for a moment. "You see when Barbossa staged a mutiny, and stole the Pearl from Jack, he kept me prisoner. Knowing full well how close me and Jack are, he wanted to rub salt in the wound." She sighed when Will washed away the blood that had spilled as he worked. "I died Will." He froze at her words. "When the Pearl went down, I went down with her. I drowned of all things." She chuckled bitterly. "Jack bargained for twenty more souls to bring me back." She turned to look at Will. "Jack is reckless, a little crazy, and sometimes a selfish coward... But he always comes back, he always does the right thing, and he does whatever it takes for the ones he cares about." Will smiled faintly at her words, she really believes in her brother, and for her he's willing to believe in Jack as well. "You know... Before you told me Jack was your brother, I thought you guys were a couple." Will smiled at the face she pulled. "But I'm glad to know you aren't." He added before kissing her cheek. "I-" (Y/n) tried, but Will cut her off, turning her back around to finish patching her up. "And I'm glad to know you love me back." He added in a soft tone, kissing the nape of her neck, smiling when she shuddered in response.

Once he finished patching her up, he took and wrapped her torso securely with wrappings. And with that done, he removed his shirt, assisted her into it, and buttoned it up slowly. "What about Elizabeth?" (Y/n) asked after a moment, having been unable to think about what he said. "I thought you loved her?" She added. "I thought I did too. That is until I met you." His knuckles brushed across her cheekbone. "How many times have you saved my life, or protected me?" Will asked with a smile. "You need it." She smiled. "Yeah I guess I do..." His smile slowly faded as he thought about what had happened. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through this, that I did this to you... I promise... I promise you I won't let this happen again." Will insisted, resting his forehead against hers. "You know that's what Jack always says, when he gets me into some crazy situation that risks life and death." (Y/n) mused with a grin. "The life of a pirate isn't an easy one, but luckily for me, I was born to be a pirate." She added, making Will smile. "You should get some rest, the Captain expects you to be working on deck in the morning." He helped her off of the table, laid back in the hammock, and pulled her gently to lay chest to chest with him. "Drink up me hearties yo ho." (Y/n) sang softly, a tired smile pulling at her lips. "Sleep love." Will encouraged her, kissing the crown of her head.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

#imagine #gif imagine #extended #reader insert #will turner x reader #will turner #pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the carribean x reader #will turner x you #pirates of the carribean x you #will turner imagine #pirates of the carribean imagine #davy jones #the flying dutchman #orlando bloom #Orlando bloom imagine #Orlando bloom x reader #fluff

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m3l0nfl0at · 4 months ago

Note

Hi, I just wanted to say I enjoy reading ur Kuroo’s stories, the way u portray him is so accurate and y/n is very relatable. I don’t know if u take requests but here’s an idea, what if y/n’s sister has a kid and Kuroo and y/n is babysitting.

And after they finished babysitting they’re having a late night pillow talk about their future domestic life.

juno - t. kuroo

kuroo x f! reader ; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, no y/n used, reader has a niece, playful teasing, kuroo gets suggestive for like a second but nothing major, future hints for just say yes! timeline, 3.3k words

summary ; your sister asks kuroo and you to babysit your niece for the night, which leads to you thinking about the future of your relationship

melons recommended melody ; may you never forget me - temachii

links ; just say yes masterlist and taglist request

Answering your sister’s call was the last thing you expected to do today. Only for her to explain that she wanted you to babysit for a couple of hours. It’s not like you’re not good with children, it's just more that you’re not really the playful type. In what other children at your age had lacked in education, you lacked in imagination. Every time your niece wanted to play you felt guilty for not playing along. Yet for some odd reason your niece loved you? Every time you saw her at your sister’s house she always came running to you like some magnet. However, you hadn’t introduced her to Kuroo just yet. Due to him feeling “an enormous pressure” with you being her favorite and something along the lines of he can’t take your place. You always laughed at his snarky comments like sure, he could take your place as the favorite relative? Yeah right.

“Can I come with you?”, you look over at Kuroo questioningly. You both give each other a blank stare, you confused and Kuroo thinking you didn’t hear him. “Yeah, I thought you were coming with me this whole time?” Kuroo nods unaware that he made that decision. You wave him off, remembering him making a remark yesterday about he’s going to replace you and be the best relative. Kuroo slides right next to you on the couch, kissing your cheek before laying his head on your lap. “I’m kind of scared, your niece seems to effortlessly love you. I think I might have to bribe her to take your spot.” You laugh at him wanting to bribe your niece, truly a conman aura. You start playing with his hair, “Well my niece loves anything I love, so I’m sure she’ll love you too.”

Upon arrival at your sister’s, Kuroo's nerves never once faltered; he knows you talk highly of your niece. What’ll happen if he doesn’t impress her or even worse makes her cry on instinct? Will you break up with him? Realize he’s terrible with kids and then break up with him? Glancing over to Kuroo in the passenger’s seat you see him fiddling with his fingers, a habit he picked up from you. Knowing the feeling all too well you grab his hands, “No need to be nervous we’re just watching my niece. Don’t worry, she’s really well behaved and super smart for her age.” Kuroo nods knowing if anything happens you were right beside him, you laugh. “And you really thought you were going to replace me looking like a nervous wreck? You have a lot to learn my love.”, kissing his cheek as you hop out the car.

Knocking on your sister's door, hearing footsteps and her animals patter beyond the door. Her husband opens the door greeting you and Kuroo before you hear your niece’s footsteps running down the hallway. You bend down as your niece greets you in a big hug, “There she is! Did you miss me?” Kuroo’s heart clenches at the sight of you with your niece. “I have so much to show you and tell you! I got student of the month and I also did this art of me and-“ your niece glances behind you. “Um, who’s that?”, you laugh looking back at Kuroo nodding in his direction letting him know to introduce himself. “I’m Kuroo, I’m your aunt's boyfriend.”, he extended his hand out so she could shake it. She slowly takes steps to him before grabbing his finger and shaking his hand suspiciously.

“Auntie, can he play with us?”, you tap your finger against your chin. Kuroo coughs, interrupting your thoughts, “I guess so.”, you both stick your tongues out at each other. “Alright sis, the dog and cat are fed so just keep an eye on them. Don’t give them any more treats please!”, she glared at you knowing you often bribed them. “As for her, bedtime is at 9:00 since it’s the weekend.”, your niece huffs as you ruffle her hair. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours, thank you both for agreeing to watch the house.”, you nod as you walk your sister to her front door, locking it for safety. Turning around to see Kuroo and your niece staring at each other, you could just feel the awkwardness in the air. “Ok you two, what do you want to do first?” Kuroo looks at your niece shrugging. “Let’s go play in my room!”, you grab Kuroo shaking the nerves out of his shoulders as you follow your niece to her room.

Walking to your nieces room you feel yourself deflate, you hate playing pretend. How could you possibly be so bad at something that wasn’t even real? Your niece grabs multiple character toys before handing some to Kuroo and to you. As she tells you the narrative for her pretend play you look over at Kuroo, seeing him listening intently even wanting to add some plot points. You smile, for someone who was a nervous wreck a couple of minutes ago, he suited this role nicely. Kuroo was always so attentive and patient you knew he would get along nicely with your niece. “Auntie! Are you listening? Stop looking at your boyfriend.”, Kuroo laughs as you look away guiltily, apologizing.

“Ok, now that you’re focused auntie! You’ll be the fairy cat, while Roo is the DJ cat, and I'll be Gabriella, the human.” Kuroo looks at the toy your niece handed you, poking at its feet, giggling. Halfway through playing you decide you were going to excuse yourself to the bathroom. It wasn’t till your niece heard the door click that she put down her toys and looked at Kuroo. “Roo, I think auntie doesn’t really like playing pretend but you’re really good at it.”, Kuroo smiles before he decides to backtrack. “Why do you think that is?”, your niece pulls him closer before whispering in his ear. “She says it’s a secret but I think she just doesn’t know how to pretend.”, she pulls away from Kuroo’s ear before grabbing her toy once again. “But she tries, that’s why she’s my favorite.”, Kuroo takes a mental note to ask you what the secret is later. Ruffling your niece’s hair, “Well thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that.”. She giggles at Kuroo and continues to play pretend with him.

As you go in the bathroom you feel yourself relax, hearing your niece giggling felt somewhat rewarding. Knowing she finally had someone interesting enough to play with was a relief. You knew she would get attached to Kuroo, I mean he often worked with children due to his job. Feeling appreciative for him, you decide to take this time to update your sister on how everything is going so far. Opening the door to go take a picture of the fur babies but instead are met with the sight of Kuroo dramatically playing with your niece. Snapping a picture of that instead, making sure to make it your lock screen when you have time. Watching them from afar, thinking of how your future with Kuroo might look. Taking a moment to imagine a mini combination of you and him walking around your apartment. Thinking of moments like Kuroo holding a baby, Kuroo teaching your kid volleyball, or watching him play with your child from afar. You feel yourself fall deep into the comfort of the moment, just watching how amazing your partner was and continues to be.

Slowly walking away forgetting the task at hand, you softly head downstairs. Kuroo turns around to find your back turned to him and all he can think of is that he hopes you're okay. Snapping back into the moment with your niece as he hears you continuing to head downstairs. You find your sister's black cat laying in its cat tower, giving it strokes on its back. Looking around to find her pet beagle, only to find it also resting in its pet bed. Sending pictures and a text to her, reassuring her to continue having fun because everything was going swiftly. Walking around her house you see a picture of your sister and you as children in her hallway, you falter seeing your parents behind you in the picture. You touch the frame baffled how long ago this picture was from, thinking back to the day. Your parents were fighting but your sister paid them no mind, she was always such an independent thinker. You remember her telling you that they were just dumb adults and to only focus on her and taking a beautiful picture. To end up so different from her, you wonder what went wrong, why you were so…different?

“Auntie! Kuroo says you make the best smoothies! Can you make me one?” You and the pets are disturbed by your niece's booming voice traveling through the house. “Oh did he? You know what since he said that he has to help me make it now!”. Kuroo keeps a pace behind your niece while you stand in front of the staircase, for safety reasons. You peck Kuroo on the cheek, “Which smoothie are you talking about? You’re the one who usually makes me smoothies, handsome.”. Kuroo hugs you from behind as you start looking through the cabinet for a blender. “I’m talking about the chocolate banana one you make for me, when I want a sweet treat.”, you nod remembering that one time you made it for him when he got home from work. To be fair though, chocolate made anything taste good but hearing Kuroo brag about it as if it was the first smoothie he ever had in his life, made your heart beat ten times faster.

“Ok lovie, I’m going to look for the ingredients but when I say cover your ears-”, you demonstrate. Even though she knows how to do an action so simple, you don’t want her to feel alone. “Make sure you cover them because the noise is really loud, okay?”, she flashes you a thumbs up heading to sit down at the table. Kuroo pulls out a chair for her, leaning on the counter top so he can monitor you both at the same time. Your niece gets up to look at all the artwork displayed on the fridge, looking for a specific piece. “Here it is! Look auntie! This is the one I did in class, it’s us!” You stop chopping for a second to look at the artwork she’s showing, bending down to her eye level. “This is such a well drawn picture, lovie. I see you drew my hair nice and pretty!” pointing to the picture, letting her know you understood it. “Oh! You even added little cat ears to us like your toys! I love it, can I take it home with me?” She nods as you give her a hug. Kuroo smiles to himself so hard it hurts, you were so easy to love it was effortless. From your kind personality to your adoring smile, he would never doubt his ability to love you.

You hand the drawing to Kuroo so he could place it by your phone, remembering to take the drawing home with you guys. Kuroo drags your niece to the living room, asking her if she wanted to watch anything as you finished chopping the remaining smoothie ingredients. “Ok lovie, cover your ears!”, you watch your niece cover her ears but unexpectedly you see Kuroo covers his as well. As you start blending, you watch Kuroo get up and place his elbows over your ears. Laughing at how considerate and ridiculous your boyfriend was. Flashing a thumbs up to signify that you finished up blending, Kuroo let’s go setting up three glasses. “Ok lovie, order up!”, your niece comes running to get her smoothie. “Wow, so good! Roo was right, it's delicious!”, you smile looking at the clock seeing it was almost time to put her to bed. “Thirty minutes till someone has to go to bed!”, you pinch her cheek before giving it a quick kiss. “No fair! I felt like I spent no time with you!” you look down sadly, seeing her pout. “Well, I can read you a bedtime story and we can do your night time routine together! Just you and I, no stinky Roo there.” she laughs as Kuroo rolls his eyes.

Making sure to do her whole routine with her as she talked about various topics to the episodes she watched to the things she learned in school. As she’s talking you start to comb her hair, braiding it. You see her in the mirror yawning as you tie off her braid. You help her dust the bed before tucking her in. “Auntie, can you read me something with Roo?” you stop before kissing her head. Nodding, going to go call Kuroo, “My love, I think you’ve officially taken my spot…”, Kuroo grins pulling you into a side hug. “Welp, I told you this would happen. Nothing lasts forever baby, let’s go.”, you tell Kuroo to go ahead while you pick her favorite book. Entering the room hoping you chose correctly. “I know I haven’t read to you in a while lovie, I hope this is still your favorite.”, you pull out the book behind your back. She nods excitedly, “Well it’s my favorite when you read it to me.”. You start getting embarrassed realizing why she liked this book so much, hiding behind the book. “Roo, auntie reads this book the best she does these voices and makes the sound effects and everything!”, Kuroo looks over at you grinning. “Oh does she now? Well I can’t wait to hear it. I’ll hold the book while you read babe.”

You cough, clearing your throat while you shakily read the title. “Auntie, you’re not doing the voice…”, she pouts. Kuroo looks at you seeing how embarrassed you are, “No need to be embarrassed auntie! Please Roo needs to see how awesome of a storyteller you are!” Deciding to put your pride aside you start reading with the voice, hearing Kuroo chuckle at how bizarre you sound. Making sound effects and all, Kuroo thought you were incredibly dorky in an affectionate way. As you finished reading, you saw your niece slowly starting to drift off to sleep, telling her softly goodnight. Lighting up the room with her night lights before exiting her room, shutting the door. As one door closes another one opens, “We’re back! Sorry for coming a bit earlier than expected, we were tuckered out.”. You wave your hands, telling her that it was no problem. You bid each other a goodbye before getting in your car heading home.

Getting home you immediately feel exhaustion take over you, changing clothes and getting ready to sleep. Coming out of the bathroom you see Kuroo dusting the bed, getting ready as well. He meets you halfway before lifting up his hand, expecting a high-five from you. You laugh as your hands meet, “We’re the best relatives ever!”. He grabs you, pulling you into a hug, laughing at his exclamation. Shaking your head and going to lay down on your side, “Tetsu can I be honest with you?”. Kuroo bobs his head, “How bad did I give you the ick while reading that book?”, he laughs and you suddenly feel the urge to crawl in a hole. “I KNEW IT!”, you hid under the covers not wanting to see any sign of life. Kuroo lightly pulls the covers down, “You didn’t give me the ick per say. More like “I got with a major dork.” but I knew you were a dork when we met so I wasn’t too phased.” He kisses your head before pulling you into a cuddle, “You know I think because you’re such a dork that’s why your niece favors you so much.”. Your fingers dance around his chest feeling guilty about getting so much love from your niece. “You know, till this day I really don’t know why I’m her favorite. I can’t even play pretend correctly.”, Kuroo remembers what your niece told him earlier that night. “You know your niece said you had a secret. Care to tell me what it is…?” you look up at him, raising a brow. Trying to think deeply about what secret you told her, only to reach a blank. “Tell me more about this said secret Tetsu?”, Kuroo starts petting your hair.

“She said you had a secret about why you don’t like playing pretend with her.”, you sigh, shaking your head. “I used the word “secret” as an excuse not to dump my trauma onto her.”, still Kuroo starts nudging you hoping you would take the hint to open up. “My parents didn’t really allow me to be a “kid” so I don’t really know how to pretend. I just get a little insecure about it, I mean how does one not know how to play pretend? It’s not even real!”, you laugh at how frivolous it all sounds. Kuroo takes in what you’re saying thinking about your… strange parents. Feeling sympathetic towards you, knowing his parents allowed him some sort of kid-like innocence. Even though his parents had a rocky relationship they never included him, allowing him to focus on friendship and sports. “You can play pretend, that is how we got together in the first place baby.”, you bump his chest playful. “That was a life or death situation, not the same.” You both laugh remembering how you both were so entranced on selling yourself as a couple, years ago. “Don’t think too hard, loving someone like you isn’t complicated. You’re a very caring and nurturing person. Everyone is attracted to a beautiful soul like yours, especially me.”, you roll your eyes.

“You know Tetsu spending today with my niece made me think about us… about having…” Kuroo’s heart stops with each break you take, are you about to say what he thinks you’re going to say? “About having a possible child together someday?” Kuroo felt his heart burst out of his chest, seeing you with your niece being a dork but being oh so kind, he couldn’t help but think of you being a mother. A mini version of each other walking around? Get him a defibrillator, stat. “I mean I know we haven’t gotten married yet and maybe it’s too soon to have children but having a child would be something to start thinking about.” hearing Kuroo’s heartbeat increase as you continue talking. “If it’s a boy, it’ll have your crazy hair or if it’s a girl it’ll have my nose, it makes me think how badly I want that. With you.” You look up to see Kuroo’s face blank, you laugh thinking you’ve broken him. “I know that I don’t come from the best family but I want to be able to give my child an opportunity that I didn’t have, a loving family.”, Kuroo pulls you into a bone crushing hug feeling your sentiment deeper than you could ever know. A loving family, you and him together creating another beautiful life, what more could he ask for? He settles into your shoulder, speech coming out muffled. “You’d be the greatest mother. Seeing you with your niece, I’d never doubt your motherly abilities. You love people so seamlessly and that’s exactly what a child needs.”, you tear up in his arms feeling a sense of peace wash over you. The man you loved, who grew with you these past few years, never once doubted your ability to be a mother.

“So, when do we get started?” you laugh. “No way! You have to marry me first Tetsu.”, Kuroo lifts his eyebrows. “That’s manageable. Expect it soon, always be ready!”, he pecks your lips before you both fall asleep. Kuroo knew he had the ring stashed away in his closet dresser beneath the million novelty ties you got for him each holiday. Truth be told he got that ring after your first official month living together. Living together showed him that he didn’t want to do this life with anyone else but you. This one joke between you was sooner than you think.

divider credit to @/vase-of-lilies, @/bunnysrph, and @/thecutestgrotto

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ melon's marginalia: tysm anon for requesting! i try to portray kuroo as accurate as possible so tysm for the reassuring words! i hope all my readers find comfort in my kind of weird girl character because we all deserve some kind of rep. request for just say yes time line are open please consider requesting just like this lovely anon!

taglist: @0tsukie

#kuroo x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #haikyu #hq x reader #hq #haikyu x reader #kuroo angst #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #haikyu fluff #haikyu angst #anime fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu

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luludeluluramblings · 4 months ago

Note

Hi so I was having some brainrot regarding your small-town-neglected-meta reader and I wanted to share them with you!

One thing I've been thinking about alot is the way readers powers work and what kinds of weather they're likely to create, etc. One thing I specifically thought about is that readers powers definitely have to come from her mom's side. Bruce and no else in Bruce's biological line have powers so readers mom has to have the meta gene. I was thinking that maybe readers mom also controlled the weather a bit, maybe not as strong as reader can but still had some powers.

Like creating little drizzles, maybe some dustdevils, and little snow storms. Because her powers were so weak she never really used them for much, maybe to help out her own parents on the farm but that's about it(using her rain powers to easily water the crops)

In that same line of thinking I also wondered if readers little brother also has superpowers. Maybe the way his powers work or appear are bit different than readers because of they have different dads(I imagine Bruce has really strong genetics. If Damian is any proof of that lol)

One little crank in this little headcanon though is that Nana and Gramps would also have to have superpowers. But then I reread the first chapter and thought about One of the phrases you used to describe how reader got in Bruce's hands.

"but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court."

That specifically makes me think that Nana and Gramps are actually readers little brother biological grandparents and not theirs.(what happened to their bio grandparents 🤔)

But anyway, one last thing I wanted mention is how badly I want to see reader using their powers more freely when they're back in small town. Like they aren't afraid to use their powers to make it super windy and have fun with their little brother up on the sky. Or causing a blizzard just so they can have a snowball fight and make snow-men with their little brother. Or even accidently cause a power outage because someone pissed them off! No more suppressed emotions just freedom. (Also reader crying in the middle of the rain they made in front of their parents graves(they wanted to be buried in their hometown) would be so tragically fantasic.)

Anyway I know this is a lot to read and I'm sorry if I seem a bit scrambled but I wanted to send this to you just cause I had so many ideas floating up in my brain I couldn't stop thinking about it all. Thank you for listening to me ramble, I hope your doing amazing🩷

Your call this bain-rot, Imma call it fertilizer. This is long as mess, but I think I addressed everything. Lots of Smalltown!Reader lore and I made a Family Tree to help explain if needed.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Smalltown!Reader's Family Tree:

Complicated little bugger, ain't it? I didn't add Stephanie or Barbara because Bruce technically never adopted them or fostered them. This isn't an official thing, I made this and it was composed of little bits of information I found online. So some of this stuff might not be lore accurate.

Also, while I was researching I found out that Bruce's middle name was apparently Patrick, after his grandfather at one point.

Now, time for the pseudo science.

I consider the meta gene to be a genetic trait carried down by a parent. That would be Momma/Adeline, in this case. She carries the gene. Now, the meta gene does not always activate even if one has it. So, no, Momma was not making mini storms for us. She was, however, very encouraging of Reader using their abilities. It takes an event, usually a traumatic one, to activate the gene. (Little Brother could be getting power's in the next chapter, though.)

As for Nana and Grand Daddy we have this:

They don't have the gene, so they don't have abilities. (Which doesn't me their harmless.) They are Reader's Step-Grandparents, but they've grown to love them all the same. Now, in court, it is preferred for a child to go to the nearest blood relative after their parents die. Or, at least, that's what I roughly know from what the court in my state is like. I'm not from Louisiana or New Jersey, where Gotham's located, so maybe it's different. But, this is fiction. This is why Nana and Grand Daddy didn't get custody of Reader, though. Plus Bruce is rich with a bunch of adopted kids, on paper he looks like the best option.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

I really love the thought of Reader using their abilities for silly little things while back in Smalltown, at least before things absolutely go to hell in a hand basket. So I'll probably include a bit. (They used to do things like that before moving to Gotham, definitely.) Something I want to mention is that Reader likes to make it rain when their happy. It's their favorite weather, they love it. So a grave scene might be a bit different. (I have to include that now. Thank you for that idea! Frick, Part Eight about to be long af.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

If your curious about Reader's other grandparents, they just died from old age and health problems. I like to think that Reader had a close relationship with them. Calling them MawMaw and Gab for their nicknames and having spent a lot of time with Reader and their Little Brother before they died. (I'm sorely tempted to just commit to rewriting this with the OC I based Reader off of so I can include all this backstory to highlight how different their life in Gotham is compared to what it used to be, but I best finish what I started first.)

(Side Note: It's very common in the American south for people to give their grandparents nicknames. I have some for my southern grandparents, while I call my northern grandparents just plain Grandma and Grandpa. The nickname can vary and is usually what ever the first grandchild comes up with.)

Thank you for sending me this ask! Stuff like this actually inspires me so this was wonderful. Hopefully this helps. (Now to get back to work on my writing, I've been draggin' my feet again.)

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #smalltown!reader #luluramblings #anon ask #answered asks

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joelsdagger · 11 months ago

Text

let it flow || one shot

frankie morales x reader

masterlist | ao3

pairing: sub!frankie x f!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 4.4k (i think something possessed me bc this was originally 1k lmao) summary: you start a new form of birth control which has many side effects but frankie takes advantage of one side effect in particular. warnings: canon divergent, established relationship (reader and frankie are married), sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, body worship, pet names, nipple play, mommy kink, lactation kink, mutual masturbation , praise kink, pre-ejaculation, overstimulation, cumplay, cum eating, fluff. No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader. um i think that’s it? *scratches neck* disclaimer: this is literally for shits and giggles bc a friend and i were talking about sub!frankie having a lactation kink, but we weren’t feeling the whole pregnancy trope so i found a loophole hehe. after extensive research, i found that certain types of birth control that include progestin *can* increase lactation as well as breast enlargement and tenderness, so i tweaked this specifically for the purpose of this fic. i don’t study medicine so some of this isn’t 100% accurate so if anything is wrong just remember this is just for horny fun and i changed some things to fit what i was going for. if this piece is not for you, that’s cool, obviously not everyone is gonna be into the same stuff but please just move along and let everyone else enjoy the fun.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my first fic i was so incredibly nervous about it but yall have been so so kind. this one is for kat and lyss who gave me this idea and then we screamed about it til 1am. shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo and @papurgaatika for beta’ing. thanks for reading i hope you like it <3

super cute divider by @saradika

You’re staring back at yourself in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, assessing your breasts, they’re full, heavy and they ache. This is the fourth day in a row of feeling the consequences of your new birth control and the pain has only gotten worse. “The shit we do….fuckin’ birth control,” you mumble under your breath.

You had switched to a different form of birth control earlier in the week, the IUD route wasn’t working out so well for you. For starters, the pain of getting the IUD implanted was unbelievably excruciating and on top of that, you had ParaGard (the copper IUD) implanted which didn’t have hormones so you were still getting your period. Your periods were heavy and painful and you have been seeking an alternative solution to stop them completely. At your last visit with your gynecologist, you both agreed to switch you over to taking birth control pills.

Your physician had informed you that the pill form was a progestin-only contraceptive that would decrease the bleeding during your menstrual cycle or possibly get rid of it completely if you skipped the placebo pills on the last week of your pack. There was one not-so-tiny problem, you were not told that being on the pill would make your tits swell and you sure as hell didn’t know the damn pill would make you lactate.

Earlier today you practically sobbed to your doctor on the phone.

“Doc, sorry to be blunt but my tits fucking hurt,” you cry, tears welling up in your eyes. At this point, the pain had become unbearable.

“That’s pretty normal hun, it’s a common side effect for some women. As I told you on Monday, the use of a hormonal birth control that contains progestin can increase the likelihood of producing breast milk even if you aren’t pregnant. It’s your hormones adjusting to the pill and it’s going to take your body three to four months to adjust,” your doctor explained.

‘Wait three to four months,” you shout, "Doc, you didn’t mention anything about that. What the hell am I supposed to do?” you ask rashly.

Your doctor hesitates, “Well, we could go back to the copper IUD but then-”

“Then, I’d get my period yeah absolutely not,” you frantically cut her off.

“We could book you to come back in and try another route but I’m booked until the end of the month,” she suggests.

“Of course you are, you’re like the only nice physician in the office, everyone wants to see you,” you laugh bitterly.

“There is something else that may help until we can see you in the office...many women have said that it helps,” she says.

You cross an arm around your chest, wincing slightly as your arm presses tightly against your chest, before dropping your arm back down at your side, “Okay…what is it?”

“You could massage them or have your husband stimulate your nipples,” she says nonchalantly.

“Stimulate my nipples?” you hesitate, your eyes widening at her suggestion.

“Yes, have him use his fingers or-”

“You’re not serious?”

Your doctor chuckles at your curiosity, “Yes, nipple stimulation and other sensual activities, can trigger and release the hormone, oxytocin, commonly referred to as the love hormone. Once oxytocin is triggered, your hormone levels are boosted and then it increases arousal and stress relief. Once it's released into the bloodstream, it helps alleviate breast tenderness and breast pain as well assisting with the flow of breast milk so yes, it’ll help.” she says pointedly.

You stare ahead, wide eyed and mouth agape. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

“Look honey, many women have come in and told me directly that it helps, believe it or not, it even helps induce labor, but that’s beside the point, many women have been in your position and they have reported that it works. So at least try this out, and see how it makes you feel, just until we can get you an appointment and have you come in and then we can try something else. Alright?” she asks.

“Yeah alright, thanks again Doc,” you huff, your hand rubs at your temple before dragging it down your face.

“No problem hun, keep me updated through the portal,” she says.

“Will do,” you hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch.

That was six hours ago and now you’re standing in your bathroom as you wait for the bathtub to fill up. You read online that heat therapy could reduce some of the pain. While your husband was at work, you sprawled yourself out across the couch with a heating pad on your chest. It managed to ease the pain for a bit until the set timer turned the heating pad off and the second you stood up, the pain worsened again.

To be honest, you’re a little embarrassed to bring it up to Frankie. It's not like Frankie won’t want to do it, he’d be very interested but what the hell are you supposed to say to him. Hey honey, my tits hurt and they’re leaking breast milk. Can you play with them a little so they feel better? He loves to engage in a little titty appreciation but this is a whole different ball game. You really aren’t in the mood to have this conversation with Frankie tonight, unsure of how he would react and possibly causing a bigger issue.

You can hear the TV through the bathroom door, Frankie is watching some game. But when he hears you croak out in pain when you remove your bra, hands clutching at your swollen breasts, he moves lightning fast towards the bathroom door.

“Querida, are you alright in there?” he asks through the door, his hand wrapped around the door handle.

You bite down on your lip, sighing before you finally bite the bullet and admit what’s going on. You crack open the door just enough so he can hear you better.

“It’s-,” You let out another exhausted sigh as you rub your temple, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Remember, a few days ago, I went to my gynecologist and we decided to switch birth control methods?” He nods, eyes full of concern.

“The pills are making my hormones go crazy and they’re making my tits swell and well…” you pull the door open to gesture towards your breasts. “I’m like a fucking pregnant woman but without the damn pregnancy,” you grumble.

You immediately clock the worry on his face but Frankie can’t help the fact that he is practically salivating when he looks down at your tits. You notice his jaw slacken, his lips part as he takes in the curve of your breasts, they have grown a noticeable difference in size. You hear him inhale sharply when his stare drops to your nipples, dark and swollen.

Suddenly feeling a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, you bring a hand up to cover your breasts, he inhales once again before speaking, yet you speak before he does, “It’s fine, apparently a bath will help, and I’ve got the water running. I’ll be out in a few minutes babe,” you press, a tight smile on your face.

You see it all over his face, he wants to help but he doesn’t know how. His big, deep brown eyes filled with worry. “Okay baby, I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything,” he says quietly, eyebrows still raised. You can sense the uneasiness in his body language but he doesn’t press the subject.

You thank him and shut the door, hearing him step back towards the bed. You slip off your panties and toss them into the hamper, then step into the hot water, sighing as you dip beneath the water.

After a few short minutes, you slowly bring your hands up to cup your breasts, experimentally kneading them. You press your hands more firmly and you bite down on your lip as you try to muffle a quiet moan. Huh. It does help. You continue toying with them until the water is no longer warm and your fingers become pruny.

Dragging yourself out of the water and stepping out of the tub, you pull the plug out, the water spinning through the drain. Leisurely, you dry yourself off, pull a thin white tank top over your head, and drag a clean pair of blue lace panties over your legs.

As you open the door to let the steam out of the bathroom, you grab your fuzzy robe from the hook behind the door, wrap it around your damp body, and head into the bedroom to catch the rest of the game with your husband.

Yet, to your surprise, you find the TV off and instead see Frankie sitting up in bed, one hand tucked behind his head and the other holding his phone as he squints at the screen.

You chuckle as you walk over to your nightstand. “Thought you were supposed to be wearing your glasses?” You tease, your lips forming into a smile.

“I look dorky with ‘em, ‘sides I don’t need them right now,” he mimics your tone and turns his head to watch as you pump some of your cocoa butter body lotion into your hand and work it into your skin.

“So, I did some googling,” he starts, a sly smirk creeping up onto his face as he continues, “It said…messaging them and sucking on them would help.” His eyes are still on the bare parts of your damp skin, completely enamored by how your skin looks in the dim light of your bedroom.

You tense, hands freezing, streaks of lotion yet to be fully rubbed into your skin, “Baby, that’s ridiculous,” you laugh him off.

“No, I’m serious look,” Frankie sits up and moves across the bed, holding out his phone for you to read the article he was studying beforehand.

“I don’t know about this Frankie,” you shake your head, frowning while you avert your eyes from his.

“Come here,” smirking devilishly as he brings his hands up to your arms, pulling you towards the bed.

“Frankie–” you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

He tilts his head up to look up at you with those big brown eyes that you often find difficult turning down. “Trust me,” his hands rubbing up and down your arms soothingly.

“You know I do, Frankie, the hell did I marry you for,” you tease, you sneak your hands behind his neck and interlock your fingers as you lean down and press a soft kiss to his head.

“Then c’mere, let me help,” he whispers and it sounds more like a plea. He’s pulling you down onto the bed, guiding you to sit up against the pillows. His hands find your robe, untying the knot in the soft belt across your waist. You lean forward slightly while he pulls your robe off slowly, his eyes watching your face, searching for any indication to stop but he doesn’t find any.

He tosses the robe behind him on the bed as he leans down over you, nudging your legs open as he settles himself between your legs. He brings his hands back up to the thin material of your tank top, cupping your tender breasts in his large hands.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, fuck–, so pretty baby,” he babbles lowly, goosebumps erupt on your skin, even after years of being married to him he still knows exactly what to say to make you feel so desirable.

He gently squeezes your breasts, his thumb sweeps over your nipple back and forth, you whine softly as your hands find his hair, burying your fingers in his curls. It hurts but it’s pleasurable, the pressure he’s using feels better than what you were doing earlier in the bath.

Frankie pinches your covered nipples between his rough fingers, hardening under his touch, you hiss when he tweaks them tightly, Frankie pauses, his eyes meet yours for a moment, “it’s okay–feels good, keep going,” you whisper to him.

He brings his mouth down to one of your nipples and sucks it through the material with his other hand still fondling your other nipple. “Fuck– that feels good Frankie,” you moan, he whimpers lowly and feels his cock twitch in his boxers. Your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth falls open and he hollows his cheeks, sucking harder around your nipple.

His mouth lets go of your breast, you look down to see the wet patch that formed over your peaked-covered nipple before he hastily pulls the tank top over your head, tossing it onto the floor, Frankie lets out a shameless groan when his eyes hungrily lock on your bare chest like a missile to a target.

He leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your breast. You feel the warmth of his breath over your breast, a tingling sensation sneaks down your body. His hot mouth closes around your pebbled nipple.

“Shit, Frankie,” you arch further into his mouth, and he moans and his tongue flicks up against your peaked nipple, and then he bites down softly, his eyes open, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. Frankie feels a slight warm gush fill his mouth, his eyes slip closed, whimpering around the bud.

You tug on Frankie’s hair, pulling his mouth away from you, your stomach twisting at his reaction when he feels the gush of liquid filling his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would happen-”

“Baby, hey, it’s okay. I was just surprised-”

“No I know, it’s just gross,” you frown, feeling the pang of embarrassment in your belly.

“It’s not–it’s not gross. I–I liked it,” Frankie says sheepishly.

“Really?” you ask softly.

He laughs lightly and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth then another just below your jaw. His beard scraping along your skin as he places wet open-mouthed kisses down your neck, all the way down past your collarbones until he reaches the valley of your breasts once again.

“Relax baby, I got ya,” he whispers against your skin.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your head falls back against the headboard, and your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, petting at his long brown curls. He ducks down to bring his mouth to your nipple, he parts his lips around the bud, his tongue circling around the bud a few times, licking at your nipple, he closes his lips and sucks softly before tugging it between his teeth, he hums around it, making you grasp at the sheets beneath you, a low ache building in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it baby boy,” you say softly, petting his hair. You open your eyes when you feel him press his cock against your leg, his cock stirring in his boxers at your praise.

He’s loving this, loves the taste of you and loves how good he’s making you feel.

His hand palms your other breast, squeezing and kneading the meat of your tit, beads of milk collecting at the peak. He takes your nipple in between his calloused fingers and pinches it harder between his index and middle finger, the milk pours out from the bud down his hand and onto his forearm.

Frankie feels the warm liquid on his arm, his mouth letting go of your breast, his pupils full of lust never leaving your face as he lifts his left hand up and licks a long slow, thick stripe from his forearm up his hand. Your mouth falls open and your chest heaves at the sight.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby,” he groans, his eyes closing at the taste of you. His cock twitches against your leg, now painfully hard in his boxers.

He dips his head back down and licks up the milk leaking down your torso up to your nipple. He moans once his hot mouth latches around the stiff peak and his tongue swirls around it. He laps up the warm white liquid he’s sucking out of your breast. “There you go baby, just like that,” you sigh, closing your eyes and your head falls back against the headboard.

One of his knees perches onto your leg, he grinds his cock against the meat of your thigh, he moans deeply, his fingers digging into the flesh of your breasts. “So, needy for me huh, baby boy,” you tut, gripping firmly onto his soft curls.

He whines quietly, and unbeknownst to Frankie, he starts rutting his hard length against your leg in slow, shallow thrusts, you feel a rumble of a moan in his throat around your nipple. At the sudden movement, your head snaps up to see your husband getting himself off against your body, his teeth sinking into your breast.

You’ve never seen him like this before, he’s insatiable and relentless and it makes your pussy pulse and clench around nothing.

“Ohhh that’s it– good boy Frankie,” you moan breathlessly, feeling him suck harder on your breast with a deep groan.

You grab at Frankie’s hair again, your hand combs his hair back while tugging at his hair, gently pulling his head back and he whines loudly when you pull his mouth away from your breast. You catch a glistening sheen on his lips when you direct his head to your other breast.

Your eyes meet his dark, blown out pupils as your thumb rubs his cheek down to the corner of his mouth. You thumb the bottom of his plump, soft lip, wiping the milk off of his mouth. Your thumb slips between his lips and you whisper, “Who’s my good boy?”

He shivers beneath your touch, “I am,” he murmurs softly, his head resting down on your chest once again. Your hand cradles his head and you move your hand down along his head to cup his face.

You watch your husband’s eyes shut as he closes his mouth around your nipple and continues suckling from your breast, “Fuck– Frankie, keep going,” you pant into his hair, your hands still toying with his curls, eliciting another whine from him.

He shifts and begins fucking himself into the mattress once again, seeking any type of friction possible.

Watching your husband getting himself off to your body sends a sharp, hot spark of arousal down your spine straight to your core, your pussy throbbing and your panties now wet and sticky with your slick.

You smirk and bring your lips down to his ear, whispering the word that you know lights a fire within him. “You’re making mommy feel so good baby,” and Frankie whimpers, his mouth swallowing your breast whole, his hips grinding down faster into the mattress.

“That’s it, baby, atta boy, such a good boy for mommy,” you coo into his ear. Frankie lets out a high-pitched whine, his hips stuttering and groaning when he feels himself spilling out all over the inside of his boxers. Your mouth falls open, your eyes wide as you stare at him, realizing he just came simply from putting his mouth on you.

His hips shudder, occasionally jerking erratically, his legs shaking uncontrollably as he hisses from overstimulation, you continue whispering praises into his ears.

While his mouth works on relieving your breast you take matters into your own hands, bringing your fingers down to your neglected cunt. You press your fingers into your covered slit, feeling the wetness of your pussy through the material before pushing your panties to the side. You move your fingers to your throbbing clit, circling eagerly while his tongue swirls over your nipple.

He bites down on the bud a little more harshly, feeling another gush of warm liquid in his mouth, “tastes so good mi corozòn,” he whimpers against your breast, closing his eyes while his teeth nip at the wet bud.

Feeling a cooling wetness from his eyes seeping onto your breast, you briefly look down to find tears stinging his eyes from the pleasure, the teeth marks on your nipples, your skin all wet and red from his mouth.

He continues sucking at your breast, licking up the sweet taste of you into his mouth and moaning around your nipple, savoring the taste.

You slip your fingers into your wet heat with a moan. “So good, Frankie, ohhh– you’re doing so well for mommy,” you gasp out while grinding your hips up into your own hand. He whimpers, his cock twitches, throbbing lightly against the mattress, he’s getting hard just from hearing that word once again.

Your other hand roughly tugs on Frankie’s soft locks, pushing his head further into you, swallowing more of your breast into his mouth.

Frankie was too far gone to notice, but you realize he’s grinding himself into the bed once again, still moaning and whimpering into your tender flesh. You thrust your fingers into your pussy, timing them to Frankie’s thrusts into the bed, the wet squelch from your fingers thrusting in and out obscenely echoes in your bedroom.

“That’s perfect, Frankie— don– don’t stop…shit. I’m so close–” You curl your fingers inside yourself, petting at the spongy spot deep inside while his teeth nip and lick and suck at your tit.

You shout Frankie’s name as your back arches off the bed, legs shaking around Frankie’s body when your orgasm finally sweeps over you.

He pulls off your nipple with a wet pop, moving fast to sit up and back on his knees, his hands making quick work of pulling off his underwear. His cock bobs up against the soft swell of his stomach. He hisses when he wraps a large hand around the girth and he thumbs the wide blunt of his tip smearing the beads of pearly white dribbling out from the slit.

Your tongue pokes out, licking your bottom lip before biting down on the flesh. Your hands massage your breasts, your fingers pinching your erect, sensitive nipples under Frankie’s fucked out gaze.

Desperately, he fists his cock over your figure. “Come, baby. Be a good boy and come for mommy,” you order him while staring into his eyes, dark and dilated, his mouth hanging open as he strokes his cock.

Your low voice and your words are all he needs to bring him over the edge. The thrusting of his hips gets more erratic as he jacks his cock tighter in his hand and increases the pace, the wet, lewd slap from his strokes gets louder, his whimpers and pants filling the otherwise quiet room.

“There you go, atta boy, give it to me Frankie, let it out," you encourage him softly.

Your eyes watch the muscles in his soft belly tighten and his thighs tensing up, his moans growing louder and louder and louder, his eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck– mami,” a long drawn out, agonizing groan slipping past his lips, you watch as his cock twitches in his hand, his hips stammer as long, thick, warm ropes of cum paint your stomach.

“That’s it baby, just like that, you did so good. So good Frankie,” you murmur. He opens his eyes and looks back down at you, still catching his breath while he watches the last of his cum spill onto your swollen breasts, he groans seeing the marks he’s left on your skin. Your tits are covered in splotches of red and teeth marks from his mouth, his come and the milk from your breasts leaking down your chest and onto your stomach.

His hair is a mess, his pupils are blown out, he looks completely in a haze, utterly fucked out. You smirk up at him and click your tongue, “You made such a mess on mommy, Frankie.”

His cheeks warm, the redness creeping down his neck and chest, he’s embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he mumbles, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

You move your fingers down your stomach, gathering his cum onto your fingers, “Don’t get shy on me now, come here my love,” your other hand reaches for him.

He crawls up towards your side, you slip a coated finger into your mouth and you close your eyes and hum. Frankie curses quietly to himself, seeing your pearly-covered finger slipping into your mouth and back out devoid of sheen.

You bring a finger up to his mouth, your fingertip pressing against his lips, “open,” you order. You take advantage of his jaw slackening, sticking your glossy finger into his mouth and his lips close around your digit. You feel his tongue flatten underneath your finger then swirls it around your finger as he sucks it clean, he closes his eyes, his brows furrow, and he moans at the salty taste.

“See, I keep telling you, you taste good, sweetheart,” you smile down at him, tucking a single brown lock behind his ear.

“You did so good for me baby, made me feel so good,” you tell him while holding his patchy-bearded face. He chuckles timidly before pressing his lips to yours, licking behind your teeth, tasting himself in your mouth and mumbles a faint I love you against your lips.

Frankie pecks your lips again before sitting up and walking over to the bathroom. You hear him flick the light on and the tap turning on and off while your eyes drift shut. You feel the warm wet rag dragging across your tummy and your tits, and then down between your folds as he cleans you up with tenderness.

You open your eyes again when you hear him pad off towards the bathroom once more, watching him toss the washcloth back in the bathroom before he tucks himself into your side and nuzzles his face into the valley of your breasts, the coarse hairs of his beard tickling your skin.

Frankie’s low voice breaks the comfortable silence, “Next time it hurts, you tell me cariño, ‘m more than happy to do that again,” he says shyly, feeling the smile on his face against your chest.

You fail to suppress your giggle, “Yeah, you enjoyed yourself didn’t you, sweet boy?” Your fingers run through his long soft brown curls, your fingertips grazing down his neck, a hint of sweat at the end of his hair along the back of his neck.

“Mhm,” he hums, and you grin into his hair, pressing your lips to his messy curls, your eyelids heavy with sleep. He feels your fingers still, Frankie tilts his head to look up at you, “Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re not done mi vida, I still need to make you come again.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #sub!frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #noelle's workshop

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midnight1nk · 2 months ago

Text

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

Past Ink: Guys, it's fine. This isn't a serious episode, it would be too soon for another arc. It's just gonna be another silly Saturday.

Current Ink: ....

(the following is my live reaction:)

[*unholy screaming*] FOUR NOOOOOOOOOOOO

WOW WHAT A GREAT START TO THIS EPISODE, SCRATCH EVERYTHING THAT I SAID ABOUT THIS BEING A "NORMAL" EPISODE

NOPE I NEED TO PAUSE, I NEED TO TAKE A WALK BC I'M NOT GONNA GET OVER IT, DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS COULD LEAD

they're not gonna do it in this episode BUT the fact that goop!4 is being acknowledged in every way possible, we might just have a sequel in our hands

NO NO NO CUT THE INTRO, I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED THE EPISODE YET AND YOU WANT ME TO MAKE A THEORY ON IT ALREADY? HOLD YOUR FUCKIN HORSES, I'LL GET THERE GEEZ

anyway, we have to press play...

I'm pretty sure someone already has done a pirate au (no I'm not over what I just watched) and anyway, artists: here's pirate SMG4

Four, you should've read the file name before downloading it [*shakes head*]

Wait, is this going to be a parody of computer buddies? That's actually pretty fun..... OH NO NO NO

Ah, so we are doing computer buddies

Actually, yeah, can we have Mario as president please

love how it says "no one even compares to mario. especially smg4 who sucks booty cheeks [or ass] and mario doesn't"

Observe as the SMG4 fandom gets terrified of the word "perfect" [*screams*]

MARIO MARIO NO NO NO HE DIDN'T SAVE

I felt that in my core omg

as a graphic designer, this hurts

apparently, there's a whole new dimension in our computers, Only in the SMG4 Universe [*cheesy thumbs up*]

We really are getting all the computer buddies, huh? I wonder if KinitoPET will appear

[*silver the hedgehog voice*] It's no use!

BRITISH SMG3

wow what a funny bit... WAIT HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE, LOOK AT THE MEDIA BOX

the eyes....

w̷̹̓e̷̼̽ ̸̯́n̴̩͆e̵̝̓v̴̼͑ë̵̤r̴͓͛ ̷̭͝l̵̦̎e̴̞͗f̵͉̐ṯ̴͗

and the left eye too... oh god, the EYE OF RA— [*gets shot*]

honestly, Four, you improved your aim ever since Western Spaghetti (ik you also did for PV but that's not the point)

I knew they were gonna bring in buff Luigi again

I'M SCREAMING

THERE IS NO WAY THE TEAM JUST DROPPED THAT ON US, THIS CAN'T BE REAL

ok first off, the fact that Four has a folder labeled "Super SECRET Spicy Memes" is giving "totally homework" folder energy (and I don't want to even think more about that)

hey, Four did say that Three brings some spice into his life (yeah, "rosemary to my bread" and all that jazz)

SECOND, the fact he has an image of SMG3 with him saying "whats the matter smg4 kun?"

THEN the "I know what you are" audio clip...

Four, buddy, you're down bad aren't you?

like "woah smg4's bisexual, I didn't know that", the closet is out of GLASS so we been knew but I DID NOT expect this

having Three be a tsundere is one thing, but FOUR....

🫵🏳️‍🌈⁉️

"they're dating behind the scenes" at this point, yeah

we have to keep going... [*secretly puts this clip on the fridge*]

I hate this so much /silly

[*chaos ensues*] [*sips my coffee*] just another tuesday saturday

GOTTA GO FAST GOTTA GO FAST— [*gets tazed*] i can never catch a break c'mon man

oh hey Swag!

four dollars is four dollars, you got yourself a deal

ok, I'm gonna need everyone to see Four's cute little hops here:

look at him go, my silly little goober :) oh, now you have? then let's keep going

holy shit, this fight scene is so well animated!!! LET'S GOOOO

never thought I'd see the day of seeing biblically accurate bonzi in an SMG4 episode and yet here we are.

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I'VE SEEN IN MY LIFE, I'M ASCENDING

"...but they hugged before" NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

A normal hug, where two people cross each other and are unable to see the other's face since it's over their shoulder, is just as it is: a normal hug. It can be seen as platonic and/or romantic.

THIS is a lot more intimate. 3 and 4's heads touch while they hold each other by the hand. This type of hug is reserved more for romantic partners when the situation leads them to a devasting end, where they face each other to look at and remember what their partner looked like, one last time before they die.

In this case, it makes sense as the computer is collapsing within itself.

"It's not actually them tho." Yes, they're digital copies of 3 and 4 but that's the thing: they're COPIES, acting on what 3 and 4 would actually do

SMG34 shippers, we are eating GOOD today yum yum

but then, that begs the question: would there be a moment where 3 and 4 would reveal their feelings for each other at the worst possible time?

(you guys are not going to be ready for my next episode concepts) What, who said that?

uh anyway them 💙💜 gotta put it on the fridge

I feel for you, Four, but I have a horrible feeling about this

...

Foreshadowing is a literary device—

no seriously, I feel like this could be part of a future arc where a past villain would ruin everything Four has and would offer up a deal when Four would be the most desperate. There's always a catch. Hmm, why does that seem familiar...?

Your life's work or your friends, it's your call, SMG4

HELL YEAH FOUR, THROW IT AWAY (omg just like how he chose Three over the USB, I'm crying dude)

also congrats to Ourstor08954957 for the lovely art in the end credits 🎉 such cute doodles ❤️

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Oh boy, what an episode. I feel like I'm in another plane of existence right now. Everything was absolutely incredible, great job Team!!

Everyone, say THANK YOU to whoever put the SMG34 crumbs in there, we shall treasure it for the rest of our lives. I'm gonna put those moments on my fridge. OH I would love to see the artists draw the SMG34 hug or pirate Four!

Love the fighting scene right by the end and the little details they have added in there. I guess it's "Torture Ink with the Idea that Goop!4 May Happen" day but hey, I'm so normal about it (no I'm not). I've been a bit stressed since finals are coming up so I'm thankful for anything this episode for me.

(If anyone is curious, the WOTFI website is still up and yes, I am logging its status just in case.)

I'm sure everyone is going crazy over this...

"They gay fr :3" [BenJoJoGV, Twitter]

🧍

BEN YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THESE THINGS—

#smg4 #smg4 spoilers #smg4 mario #smg4 smg3 #smg34 #yes it actually happened #ink reviews

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pucked-bunnie · 9 months ago

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made for this⎜j.marino

pairings: john marino x reader prompts: "I'm proud to be seen with you." + "Can you zip up my dress for me?" genre: fluff ⎜friends - to - lovers ⎜ warnings: insecure reader ⎜mentions of weight gain ⎜chubby reader ⎜comments about weight ⎜reader gets bullied ⎜fake wags (didn't want to make anyone a villian so I made them up) ⎜p.s. sorry Pittsburg word count: 4.3 k note: this started off to be a short prompt request and ended up being a little longer - all events in this are fictional and the timeline is not accurate - I also went down a john marino rabbit hole and found out some interesting things - like did you know he has a twin brother?? anyway i hope you enjoy!

PRESENT - EARLY 2024

“John?” You call into the empty hallway, fiddling with the zipper on the back of your dress, just slightly out of reach. “John?” You call again, hearing quick footsteps up the hallway as he wanders in the bedroom taking a quick glance over your outfit.

“I think we should go to casino night, every night.” He lets out a low whistle, as you turn your back to him with an eye roll motioning to the zip on the back of your dress. “Can you zip up my dress for me?” You ask pulling your hair out of the way as his nimble finger make quick work of the tiny metal zip.

“Do you think this is enough?” You ask quietly as John smooths the back of your dress, his hands sitting on your waist as he glances at you in the mirror. He watches as your hands fiddle with the skirt of the dress, the light blue satin stopping mid calf, the tight corset top sinching in your waist, it was the same dress you had worn four years earlier at an event when John had started in Pittsburg - the dress had been hidden in the back of your closet since. “The girls in the group chat said that it’s a more casual black tie, but the casino event in Pittsburg was always said to be casual and people dressed like it was the met gala.” John smiles as he loops his arms around your waist, continuing - patiently - to watch as you adjust your accessories and hair.

“The girls in the group chat would be correct.” John noted, watching as you frown at yourself in the mirror. “You’re overthinking it.” He warns, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before dropping his chin to your shoulder. “Besides, Jack messaged earlier and asked if sneakers are black tie.” John smiles as you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the younger players' antics.

“What if people don’t like me?” Your question is barely audible - and John frowns, your hands going back to fiddling with the dress. “I just don’t want a repeat of Pittsburg.” John’s frown deepens again remembering the first event he had convinced you to go to after being signed to the penguins.

“It won’t be like that - everyone here is super nice.” He reassures, pressing kisses against the skin of your shoulder, his soft curls ticking the side of your face.

“I just can’t help but think about what they said sometimes.”

“Well try harder - what a bunch of middle aged entitled women say means nothing” You hands reach for Johns as he moves to pull away from you, your grip keeping his arms latched around your middle. “I think you look amazing.” John says softly, his fingers weaving with yours as he squeezes your hands.

“I’ll always be proud of you and who you’ve become.” He adds for good measure and you let out a high pitched whine, dabbing at your eyes quickly as you glare at him.

“I appreciate the sentiment but right now is not the time to make me cry - it’ll ruin my makeup.” John just chuckles, pressing one more kiss into your hair before letting you go, the two of you grabbing the last of your stuff before leaving the apartment.

This would be the first time you would meet John’s teammates and their families - after a rough experience at John’s old team you were hesitant to meet his new one until he could reassure you that they were all wonderful - two years is how long it took to convince you to finally come to an event, managing to get one of the players girlfriends to add you to the WAG group chat so you felt a little more at ease knowing a few people.

It was around a twenty minute drive to the venue, the New Jersey Devils renting out a large hotel ballroom and setting it up for a casino night charity event - the event would be more formal unlike their normal sweep the deck events but was supposed to still feel genuine and homely. John had picked one of his favourite suits - the checkered navy blue suit one of your favourites too - his hair was swept away from his face though his curly were unruly and a few fell out of position to sit against his forehead.

“I’m really glad you’re coming tonight.” He said softly as he pulled the car into the valet spot - slipping out of the driver's side to hand them the keys, before rushing around to help you out of the car, guiding you to the front steps as the valet handed him the return ticket.

You both thank the worker before slowly ascending the steps into the venue - gentle music streaming into the lobby. “Luke is so excited to meet you.” John adds, his hand on the small of your back as he steps towards the ball room, smiling kindly at the host who opens the door for him.

The girls in the group chat were right.

Though the event was definitely still formal, no one was dressed above and beyond, most people seemed to prefer something a little more comfortable. You smile down at your dress choice, satisfied with the sky blue satin, John's hand rubbing soft circles on your back as he waves his hand above the crowd.

It’s hard to miss the six foot two defense man who awkwardly shoves his way through the crowd towards the two of you - his own curly hair rivaling John’s as he stops in front of the two of you, a crooked grin on his face. “I’m Luke” He says quickly, reaching out his hand for yours, the motion a reminder of the first time you met John - you smile up at him, placing your hand in his as he gives it a quick shake, saying your name quickly.

“I need your honest opinion.” Luke says quickly - you wait for his question taking in his checkered suit a small chuckle bubbling in your throat as you realise how similar it is to Johns. “Curtis said my hair’s too fluffy.” The younger man says, his finger instinctively running through the curls. “Is it really that bad?” Luke finally asks - John barks out a laugh, coughing a little as you ram your elbow into his side.

“It looks fine, Luke - I’m sure Curtis is just messing with you.” You reassure the player, your words seemingly taking a weight off him as his shoulder relaxes a little more.

“John’s told me a lot about you.” Luke says as he glances over to his teammate with a cheeky smile, “He said that you were head over heels for him from the first time you met.” Your mouth falls open as you flick a glare over to your boyfriend.

“Oh did he now?” You watch as John begins mouthing some angry words to Luke, slicing his hand at his neck as you turn away from him, “Let me tell you how we actually met.”

PAST - LATE 2017

You first meet John in college - the two of you wide eyed freshmen walking into your bio-chem class with clear anxiety.

You had taken a seat towards the front of the class, hoping it would deter people from sitting too close to you - spreading out your textbooks and laptop over the surface as fellow students continued to pass by your desk.

You didn’t even notice him approaching until he stopped beside you, waiting for your attention to turn towards him and away from your computer screen.

“Do you mind if I sit there?” He asked softly, pointing at the seat beside you, a nervous grin on your face as you nod quickly in response - clearing your books off the chair beside you.

You couldn’t quite get a grasp for who he was from a first glance - the boy was obviously built like an athlete, tall and lanky but maintaining a lean and muscular build - but the textbooks he swipes from his bag, already donned with notes and highlighter markings are telling a different story.

“My name’s John.” He said quietly as the teacher entered the room, lifting his hand between the two of you in a friendly gesture. You take hold of his hand giving it a gentle shake as you tell him your own name, watching as he mouths the word a few times with a determined nod.

Your first class passes by quickly - which to be fair could be because you spent the whole lesson watching John in the seat next to you - his eyes glued on the projector screen at the front of the class, his hand diligently taking notes.

“Hey, do you want to go grab a drink at the cafe down the street sometime? We could compare notes?” John asks as he begins to pack up his stuff, the teacher dismissing the class earlier than scheduled.

“Umm…” You stall, shoving your completely empty notebook into your bag, looking around as if an excuse would appear into thin air.

“Sorry, it was stupid of me to ask.” He says quickly, a tight smile on his mouth as he throws his bag over one shoulder, “You’ve probably got a hundred other people to meet up with.” He says with a soft chuckle, his hand raising to rub at the back of his neck.

“I don’t.” You say quickly, frowning at your mouth's betrayal. “Maybe we could meet after the next

lesson? I still have a few more induction classes this afternoon.”

John nods quickly, yanking a pen out of the side of his backpack, rolling up his blue flannel shirt offering both the pen and his bare skin towards you. You stare at him in confusion as he glances between you and his arm.

“Your phone number?” He asks quickly - a snorted chuckle escaping you as you pull your phone from your back pocket, opening the device and handing it to him.

“How about you just put yours in my phone and we save your skin from the sharpie?” You suggest, John quickly tucking the pen away, the tips of his ears a flaming red as he takes your phone from your hands.

“Yeah, that’s a better idea.” He mumbles handing the phone back to you once he’s typed his number in, his contact name ripping another chuckle from you.

John - the guy from biochem

You knew straight away that this boy was going to weasel his way into your life quicker then anyone else had before.

PAST - MID 2019

The year after you had met John passed by quickly - the two of you spending any limited free time you had together. John had quickly introduced you to the world of hockey three weeks after you met when he invited you to come to one of his games, a single student ticket in his hand as he waited for you to take it.

And after forty two hours of researching hockey obsessively you had shown up to the game in the classic crimson and white school colours watching number 12 race around the ice with his teammates.

You were quick to discover a love for Johns favourite sport - the game fast paced and easier to follow than you expected and John was quick to invite you to every home game in the near future - a ticket to the game slipped into your notebook after every biochem class the two of you had together - but still John never asked the question that sat in the back of your mind.

It was mid summer break after the 2018 - 2019 semester when a phone call had changed everything.

‘John - the guy from biochem is calling’

“Is now a good time to talk?” He had said when you answered the call, and you had quickly excused yourself from the family barbecue to move to a quieter area of the house.

“What’s up?” You say softly but you can feel your heart racing in your chest. A silence falls over the two of you as John lets out a long sigh, “John, what going on? You’re scaring me.”

“I got an offer.”

“You what?”

“I got an offer for a contract with Pittsburgh.” You can almost hear the way your heart shatters at his words - he was leaving?

“John that’s amazing.” You say softly, slowly taking a seat on your mothers couch, you thumb lifting to your mouth as you naw on the skin besides your nail, “I mean this is your dream, this is what you’ve been working for.” You add quickly, a small bubble of genuine excitement bubbling beneath your broken heart.

“I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

“What? You can’t not take it John, this is your shot.” You frown as you press your phone harder against your ear.

“Yeah I know, but what about—” He pauses.

“What about what, John? This is the NHL we’re talking about here, not some home town rec league” He lets out a long groan, the sound seeming far away, his phone probably pulled away from his face.

“I’m not good at this stuff.” He admits quietly, his phone pressed back to his ear, and you wait - patiently - like you always do for him to continue. “I want you to come with me.” The words are not something you expected to hear today or any day for that matter.

“What the fuck?” You didn’t mean to say the words, they just sort of slipped out.

Having a close friendship and borderline flirtation with John for almost two years you expected him to ask you sooner to be his girlfriend - to make things official - but he never had and you were to chicken to ask him the question - so you had decided for the two of you that maybe friendship was all you needed.

Clearly you might’ve been wrong.

“What are you talking about? I don’t think I’m following.”

“I called you today because I want you to come with me to Pittsburg” he pauses for a moment before correcting himself, “I mean I wanted to ask you if you’d come to Pittsburg with me.” John explains and your hand drops back to your side, your mouth falling open as you sputter to find a response.

“I already looked into it and there is a school for nursing at the university of Pittsburgh and they except transfers and with the the offer they’re giving me I’ll be able to cover all our expenses, you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job if you didn’t want to or you could wait till you settle in if you wanted some extra money to put in savings” You still can’t find anything to say, listening to John rambling, his voice getting softer and softer as he speaks, “Anyway, what I’m trying to say that if I can’t have you with me then I don’t want it.”

“John, I don’t know what to say.” Is all you can manage, not knowing which of your emotions to latch onto.

Anger that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

Sad that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

Angry again that he’s leaving and this is how he’s telling you.

And mainly happy that he’s achieving his dreams and he doesn’t want to leave you behind.

“We never really talked about this before.” You say honestly, your head lifting as your mum walks into the living room, her eyes questioning as tears well on your waterline. “John, this is really out of the blue.”

“I know, I know and that’s my fault - I was going to tell you how I felt before summer break but I just couldn’t shake the idea that you didn’t feel the same and I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” Your mum takes a seat next to you on the couch, a supportive hand on your back rubbing in circles as a few tears drop from your eyes.

“Have I upset you?” His voice is questioning, a small quiver at the end of the question and your tears fall a little harder.

“No, no.” You reassure, lifting a hand to wipe at your face, “It’s just a lot to take in right now, I just need to think for a minute.”

“Okay, that’s okay.” He begins a shaky breath escaping him as he adds, “I can wait for you - no matter how long it takes.” You mum is patting your back as you wipe furiously at your face. The phone call ends, and you turn to your mother, a soft smile on your face as she tucks your hair behind your ears.

“John got an offer in Pittsburg.” You say a bitter smile on your face, your eyes shining with tears. You mother just waits for you to continue, “He wants me to go with him.” You explain, taking in a long breath and letting out a short shaking one, “And I think I want to go.” Your mothers smile brightens as she pulls you in for a hug, reassuring you that everything would be fine, that it can all be figured out in time.

PAST - EARLY 2020

“John, I don't know about this.” You say as you fiddle with the straps of the light blue dress - John stood behind you tugging on the zipper, cursing under his breath as the zipper catches again. “Maybe I just shouldn’t go.”

You want to cry.

The move to Pittsburgh had been more stressful than you were anticipating - Nursing School was kicking your ass with late hours on placement and early morning classes and you hadn’t been eating very well, the freshman 15 hitting you about three years too late.

“I want you to come - and you’ll finally get to meet everyone.” John had said excitedly finally getting the zipper on the dress up with a triumphant grin. “You look stunning.” He whispers as he turns you to face him, pushing your fringe away from your face.

“You have to say that, you’re my boyfriend.” You joke, poking him in the ribs as you glance over at the clock. The ride to the venue was longer than either of you anticipated - John glancing over at you every now and then as he drives, one hand tangled with yours as he presses soft kisses to your knuckles.

“If you hate it we can leave.” He finally mumbles as the car pulls up to the hotel - the bottom floor casino rented out entirely for this event. The two of you slide out of the car and make your way past the valet and into the event.

You weren’t sure how this was supposed to work for a charity event - everyone was dressed above and beyond, your simple satin dress making you feel naked as you looked over all the sparkling gowns and black and white tuxedos. “I thought they said this was a cocktail event.” You hiss as the two of you enter smiling at the people who greet you.

“I thought it was.” John says obviously as confused as you were.

“Oh, Johnny, we never thought you’d make it.” A higher pitched voice says from the crowd, the two of you glancing around until you spot the long legged blonde making their way towards you.

“That’s Hannah, one of the wives.” He clarifies, and you nod, putting a bright smile on your face as she stops in front of the two of you. She leans forwards placing two soft kisses on John’s cheeks before turning towards you.

“I see you brought a friend.”

“Um, this is my girlfriend, she moved here with me after I signed.” John says quickly, his hand placed on your back as you offer your hand in greeting. Hannah glances at you, her eyes raking over you before she just nods with a tight smile.

“Well it’s not quite the look we’re going for but it’ll do.” She said dismissively, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you lean closer to John.

“Did she just call me an ‘it’?” John's brows furrow as he takes in the older woman, his nose wrinkling as she flags down a waiter. “John, don’t.” You say as you notice his mouth open to say something.

“I’m sorry, but what you just said was extremely rude.” The words are out of John’s mouth before you can slap your hand over his lips to keep them closed, “And my girlfriend isn’t an ‘it’ she’s a human being and deserves respect.” Hannah snaps her gaze away from the waiter back towards the two of your, a glare centred on you.

“I mean no offence, but the wives and girlfriends pride themselves on keeping a level of class when dressing for events - we hold ourselves to a certain level of maintenance.” She pauses for a moment, “The dress is doing you no favours, my dear. No matter, It’s an easy fix, I’ll send you the number of a great weight loss dietician that I know..” She waves off John’s shocked expression taking a sip from the champagne flute handed to her.

“What do you mean by that?” John’s in too deep now, taking a step in front of you, his body covering you as he stares down his teammate's wife.

“You know what I don’t want to know - she’s beautiful the way she is and neither of us want you to ‘fix’ anything.” You watch as the woman turns a light shade of pink, clearly not prepared for John’s fight.

“Johnny, I’m just saying that us partners should be taking care of ourselves - we want our men to be proud to stand next to us.” The comment is the straw that breaks the camel's back, your hands slipping away from the back of John’s suit, your arms crossing over your chest, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

John’s speechless at Hannah’s words, his eyes flaming with anger as his teammate steps up besides his wife, “Keep your asshole of a wife away from my girlfriend.” John spits, the man looking at the defence man in shock before turning to his wife with a pointed look.

You don’t wait any longer to see what is said as you turn and exit the hotel, John quick on your heels as he follows you out.

“Where are you going?” He asks, his long legs carrying him much faster than you can move in your thin heels.

“Anywhere but here.” You respond, letting out a sigh as John grabs hold of your arm tugging you to a stop. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this.” You add, biting down on your lip as it begins to quiver.

“Don’t listen to that crazy old bat.” John soothes, his hand sliding down your arm to grab hold of your hand, his other cupping it as he brings it to his mouth, pressing gentle kisses on your skin.

“But maybe she’s right, John. I mean it’s clear I’ve gained weight, and I’m either at school or work and we barely even get to spend time together anymore - maybe I’m just not made to be a hockey wife.” Your words are strained as you fight back your insecurities, “You deserve so much more.”

“No.” John shakes his head at your words, his hand cupping yours tightly. “I don’t want anyone else.” He sighs as you open your mouth to speak, shaking his head again.

“You moved all the way here for me and you changed the entire course of your education for me.” John begins, “You work ten hours a day for free to achieve your dream plus you study on top of all that, and you still manage to support me in everything I’m doing.” You let out a shaky sob, one of John’s hands releasing your to wipe at your tears.

“If anything - you deserve so much more.” John continues, his breathing heavy as his own tears start to gather, “Baby, I am so proud to be seen with you - and I told you, if I can’t have you with me, then I don’t want it.” Your tears are falling freely now, John following close behind as he pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you as you bury your head in his chest, his hands soothing against your back.

“I’m ready to go now.” You grumble against John’s now wet dress shirt, a soft chuckle escaping him as he pulls his valet ticket from his pocket.

PRESENT - EARLY 2024

“Pittsburg wasn’t the greatest - but it helped John grow as a player and we’re both so excited to be here now.” You say to Luke, his eyes soft as he reaches out, the lanky man wrapping you in a hug. You shoot a glance over at John who tries to stifle a laugh behind his hand.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” Luke says, “I just know everyone here is gonna love you.” He quietly adds finally releasing you as he nods at John, “Man if someone talked to my girlfriend like that I’d lose it.”

“Tell me about it.” John agrees, taking a sip of the drink he had wandered off the get when you first started telling Luke your story.

“Have you met any of the WAGs yet?” Luke asks, turning back to you, your head shaking quickly in response.

“We’ve texted but I haven’t met anyone in person.”

“Perfect.” Luke says as he takes hold of your hand, setting it gently against his elbow before surveying the crowd. “Ooh, there’s Reanee.” Luke drags you away from your boyfriend quickly, giving you a run down on each WAG before he introduces you to them.

In total it takes Luke almost an hour and a half to track down every wife and player - introducing you personally, John following the two of you around smiling until his cheeks hurt at each warm welcome you receive. Managing to convince Luke to release you for twenty minutes for a drink and bathroom break, John pulls you towards the bar leaning down to whisper softly in your ear.

“Seems like you are made to be a hockey wife.”

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl #nhl fic #john marino #john marino fanfic #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #prompt #prompt request

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