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satorusugurugurl · 1 month ago

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Tangled Up With You

Summary: You’re the personal guard of the prince of the kingdom. So to protect him and his magical healing hair. but he’s also charged you with keeping his bed warm as well.

Pairing: Prince!Geto Suguru x Guard!AFAB!Reader

Warning: Fantasy AU! Long hair Suguru, magic hair that glows, fluff, sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 3K

A/N: Kinktober day Nineteen: Tangled!AU! Tangled is like one of my favorite movies! So of course I had a major blast writing this! Also I need Pascal!Gojo 😩💚

You were panting as you ran, looking over your shoulder; you made sure no one was following you. Your leather and light armor made it nearly impossible to stay silent, but you hoped you were far enough that he wouldn't hear you. Your pulse raced as you darted down an empty corridor through the kitchens. Once in the darkness, you slammed yourself against the darkest part of the wall. You were inhaling and exhaling through your nose as you covered your mouth, attempting to silence your breathing as voices echoed off in the distance.

“You can't run forever!” Captain Nanami barked out, making you sink further down. “You might as well come out now! Face my anger now!”

“Damn, she’s fast!” Haibara chimed in, and the clincking armor sounded like a ticking time bomb to you. “But don't you think making her do combat training is a bit harsh just for—”

“Do you want to join her?” Silence. “That’s what I thought. Now help me find her!”

Why were you so stupid!? Of course, Nanami just happened to catch you slacking off and eating his sweet bread! The autumn breeze had been so nice, and the sweet smell of bread was so tempting! And for once in your entire time of being a guard within the castle walls, you decided to give yourself a break. A break that included you taking off your palace cloak, laying down underneath one of the autumn trees, and snacking on Nanami’s favorite bread. A friend you didn’t realize was the last loaf of the day, and he has been saving it for when he got outside of his shift.

It didn’t help that your fellow guards knew this fact and refused to tell you about it. They were always tired of being on their commander's radar and decided that it was your turn! A turn you didn’t even want to partake in!

But here you were, hiding in the darkest corridor on the palace grounds from your commanding officer, who wanted to give you hand-to-hand combat training with him. A lesson thought you would do practically anything to avoid getting out of. All you needed to do was avoid him for the rest of the day. If you managed to do that and get back to the barracks, you could get up early tomorrow morning and call him at two loaves of his favorite bread to make up for your mistake.

That is if you manage to get through the rest of the day without getting caught.

The clinking armor grew louder, and you felt your heart rate spike with each step. Your life was starting to flash before your eyes as you listened to Nanami approaching closer and closer. There was nothing you could do aside from praying to the gods and goddesses to show you mercy!

“Hi, Nanami.” A familiar cheerful voice rang from above you. “What are you doing?” You glanced up, finding Prince Geto Suguru leaning outside the window of his tower.

The clanking of armor came to an abrupt stop. “Oh, good evening, your highness! I’m looking for my second in command! You haven’t seen her, have you?” The prince hummed, and you tilted your head up, praying he wouldn’t see you. Much to your horror, pretty lilac-hued eyes met your gaze as he smiled, his dark bands flowing in the cool breeze. You acted quickly, shaking your head back and forth in a silent plea for him not to tell Nanami.

With a dramatic eye roll, your prince pointed the opposite way. “Her favorite flowers are blooming soon. I bet she’s in the gardens. I would have joined her, but I’m still brushing my hair.” You thought that maybe, just maybe, Nanami wouldn’t have listened and continued down his path hunting you.

“Ah! Thank you, your highness!”

You blinked, watching as bother Nanami and Haibara headed off to the garden on the other side of the castle. You waited there for an eternity before a sigh of relief finally passed through your lips. Winning a whole-hearted laugh from the man above you.

“Oh my gods! That was a close one!”

“What did you do to invoke the wrath of the Nanami Kento?”

Long, black, silky hair was thrown out the window, swaying in front of you. This was a drill the two of you had. “I didn’t mean to piss off!” You wrapped your hand around his hair as he began climbing, pressing your feet against the wall of the tower. “Honest to the gods, his bread was just sitting there in the office, and I didn’t think you would mind sharing!” you grunted as you hoisted yourself up on the windowsill, scooting in until you could hop into his room.

“Okay, and you know, Nanami. Bread to him is one of his only joys in life.” Suguru laughed, returning to his bed, where he picked up a brush and ran it through his magical hair.

“Maybe I was just being optimistic.” Without another word, you took the brush away from your prince and began brushing it for him.

Suguru hummed softly, shutting his eyes as you gently worked through his hair, all seventy feet of it. Both of you enjoyed quiet moments like this. Where he whisked away to the court to help with an ill villager or paraded like a peacock for princesses, and you weren’t stuck escorting him when both of you would rather be with each other. Suguru was blessed with magic hair that could heal injuries, illnesses, and many other ailments people may have. Because of this, people were always trying to cut his hair off, not knowing that by doing so, his hair would lose all magical attributes.

That’s why you and the rest of your squads are in charge of keeping him safe.

But being his guard has led you to get to know each other more personally, and your relationship became less of a protector and more of a partner. Suguru wanted to be with you, but you both decided it would be best to keep it a secret for now. He would toss his hair out the window, and you would climb it to ensure no one saw you sneaking into his bed chambers.

You could hear the gossip that would arise from this if anyone found out about your relationship. People would say that you were just some lonely guard, deflowering their prince, making him unworthy and unfit for marriage, which wasn’t at all what you were doing. You had fallen for the prince you were sworn to protect. He was handsome, kind, and intelligent. It would’ve been practically impossible for you not to develop these kinds of feelings for him. You would hate for anyone to get the wrong idea that you were just out for his body, to bed him and leave. That wasn’t the case at all!

It all happened, which was a bonus for falling in love with him.

Typically, you tried your damnedest to keep your mind yourself along with your hands. But as he let out a breath as you began, twisting the long hair into a braid, your mind began to wander elsewhere. You could see his broad shoulders and muscles strained with his tunic. He didn’t have to do anything, and you wanted him so badly.

It was something he could see in your face as he glanced at you from the mirror. “Princess?” He purred, tilting his head as you fastened the braid with a hair tie on your wrist. “You keep undressing me with your eyes. If you want something, you should just outwardly say it.” He smirked, watching as you sputtered and flushed as you looked towards the ceiling, trying to find an excuse as to why you were practically eye fucking him when he hadn’t done anything.

“I wasn’t undressing you!” The look on his face, combined with how he slowly turned his head to look back at you and his expression, told you he did not believe you. “Okay, maybe I was.”

He grabs your wrist, pulling you to lie on the bed with him. “Does my favorite guard want me?” You watched as he hovered about you, long fingers unfastening the belts that held your armor in place.

“I do—but what about your friend?”

“My friend?” Your armor is swiftly removed and placed on the ground beside his bed. He slides his hands up your shirt, tugging that off next. “I can assure you, my cock is eager to see your pretty pussy again.”

Anyone that would look at the Prince would not assume he used that kind of language, but in reality, he was just a horny, filthy-mouthed man. This only deepened the attraction you had for him. You off on it when he talks to you like this.

“As much as I want that to happen,” you purr, running your hands down his chest. “I’m talking about your other friend.”

“Satoru?” As you referred to his pet chameleon, he chimed in amusement, thickening his voice. “Shoko took him in for a check-up.” More clothing was discarded and tossed around the room as the braid you had done on his hair fell over one of his shoulders. “Besides, he hogs up all your time and is here with me.” You grinned at the thought of the white chameleon with a bright, so cerulean. “So call me selfish, but I want you all to myself.”

“Well, luckily for you, I want you to. I need to repay you for saving my life.”

The rest of your clothes are thrown off until you’re both completely naked. Suguru pushes himself between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your head as he kisses you gently. “You do, which is sort of funny because aren’t you the one supposed to be protecting me?”

“I like switching things up sometimes, Sugu.”

“That's one of the many reasons I’m falling for you.”

Before you can linger too long on his words, Suguru leans forward, kissing you softly. His hands moved to rest on your hips. The head of his cock gently began pushing the tip of his cock past your slickened folds and inside of you. Your lips parted slightly as you inhaled sharply, feeling him stretch you open with his thick member. Suguru pressed his forehead against yours as he continued to slide himself inside of you. The two of you panted lips inches from one another as Suguru slowly began rolling his hips.

“Suguru,” you whined, tilting your head back, allowing him to trail kisses and nibbles along your sensitive, heated flesh. That feels so good.” He chuckled against your skin, pulling away to look into your eyes.

“Yeah, it always feels good.” He moaned out with a charming smile before thrusting deeper inside you, “I’m going to make you feel so good that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow. That was how I could selfishly keep you all to myself.”

The thought of spending the day with him, without your titles, had you clamping down, causing him to groan in pleasure, “That sounds magical; I wa-holy fuck!” Suguru silenced you by slamming into you fast and hard, cutting off the rest of your words.

“I’d make you mine in every sense. But that’s going to have to wait for a bit. “Because as much as I love hearing you talk, I want to hear your moan instead.,” he growled softly into your ear,

“Well, what are you waiting for then? Make me moan.” You leaned up, taking his bottom lip between your teeth and nibbling on it.

The two of you moved together, finding a rhythm that felt best for both of you. A position where your legs were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, desperately trying to pull him deeper inside of you. His hands massaged your breasts, twisting your right nipple between his thumb and index finger as he took your left nipple in his mouth until it stood at attention for him. All the while, his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, causing you to gasp out his name.

Suguru’s fingers tangled in your hair as he slammed his lips on yours. Kissing you as hips picked up, moving at a faster pace, “Princess, fuck gods-” he nipped at your bottom lip, “I want you so much.” he pulled away, looking down at you, pausing his thrusts to stare down at you. You just stared at him, chest rapidly heaving with lust; the two of you were covered in a thin layer of sweat sheen off two of you in the dying light of the sunset. “You’re so beautiful,” his thumbs massaged the dips of your hips. You are the only Princess I want.” His thrusts became deeper as he stared into your eyes. “Because I love you.” Your heart nearly stopped as your cheeks burned even as you looked at Suguru in shock. He didn't need to say more or explain himself; he kept going, spilling out the truth. “Princess, I’m so in love with you.”

“Suguru,” your heart raced as you stared into his violet eyes. “I-I—” You reached up, stroking his cheek. “I’m in love with you too. I don't care if we come from different nobility. All I care about is loving you.”

“Princess,” the prince moved to pull you up to sit in his lap so he could kiss you eagerly. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.” He kissed your cheeks as he thrust up inside of you lazily. I knew I would be in good hands from the moment I first saw you.”

“Haaah,” you exhaled as you rocked against him, “I took my bow seriously, but I, fuck, first saw you smile. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to control myself.”

“All I think about is you. From the start of my day, you’re the first thing on my mind. And you’re the last thing on my mind when I sleep at night.” The dark-haired man grabbed your hips, making you rock faster.

“Nnngh! Sugu!” You cried out as his cock brushed right against your g-spot, causing a familiar tightening in your abdomen, “I’m getting close.” you whispered against his lips.

Dark strands of his hair clung to his forehead as he nodded, feeling that same ache in his belly, “I can feel you squeezing down on me,” He furrowed his eyebrows together before biting down on his lip as he slammed you back down on to the bed, “I wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

The handsome and seemingly sweet prince lifted your legs over his shoulders and fucked into you. Your breath caught in your throat as you gripped his forearms, leaving a crescent moon indent in his skin. He winced at the slight pain, but his paste didn’t falter. The head of his cock continued brushing against your g-spot with each thrust before pushing further to kiss your cervix. Your entire body felt like it was on fire as your toes curled and your back arched as he pushed you closer to the end of your orgasm. Sensing you close, Suguru’s left hand that was gripping your hip trailed down your lower stomach, pushing down on it gently while his thumb brushed over your clit, sending you over the edge.

“I’m cumming! Sugu fuck!” You screamed back, arching off the mattress as you came all over his cock, moaning like a mistress of the night, “Yes, right there!” You thrashed your head side to side as Suguru thrust faster inside of you, chasing his orgasm.

“Princess, I’m gon-gonna cum!” He growled, thrusting as deep as he could before spilling himself inside of you, “Princess!” Suguri growled, burying his face in the crook of your neck and biting down on it as he continued to thrust, milking his cock inside of you.

Both of your bodies trembled against each other as you came down from orgasmic bliss. He took deep breaths as he trailed kisses along your neck and shoulder. Your legs continued to shake as he wrapped his arms around you, brushing your hair back out of your face.

“You know I meant it, right?”

“Huh?”

“AI meant every word.” Suguru lies down on his back, pulling you close to his side.“I don’t want to meet any other princesses or be introduced to other nobility. Because I just want you. And I will make a point to tell that to my father tomorrow. You are the woman I want to spend my life with.”

You swear to the gods above that you could start crying at his sweet words. “I know.” And you did know he was telling me the whole truth that he didn’t want to be with anyone else but you. But for him to reiterate those words when your minds were clear meant the entire world to you. “I don't think he’ll be happy about that thought.” Suguru scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“He can kiss my ass for all I care.” His pretty violet eyes narrowed, and he softly smiled. “You are going to be the person I marry.”

“I want to marry you too.” You hummed, trying to set up to stay alert, your training kicking in. Because not only was he the prince, but he was also the man he had fallen in love with. Suguru, of course, felt your muscles tightening.

“It’s okay. For once, you relax. I’ll protect you tonight.” At his words, your body began to relax. “There you go, get some sleep.”His lips brushed over your forehead. “I’ll protect you from this night until I draw my final breath.” Suguru hummed as your head was on his chest. You hummed as he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close to his body. The two of you fell asleep soundly and safely inside each other's arms.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918

Kinktober Tag List:

@candy-s72

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dancingwithreality · 1 year ago

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romeo and juliet t.w.

gif not mine!

pairing: toto wolff x verstappen!sister

word count: 3.1k

summary: red bulls golden girl has been in a long term secret relationship with the team principal of mercedes, and it gets harder to keep the secret.

warnings: implied sexual content, jos verstappen 🤢, fluff, light steam but no smut

a/n: yes she’s a little child prodigy, but it works better for the plot. if this gets love 'n y'all really want more i'll do a second part maybe :)

please don’t take my work! enjoy and interact :)

JOS VERSTAPPEN was not a nice man, and an even worse father. He was demanding and mean, pushing his driving legacy onto his children. Well, onto Max. When his first child was a girl Jos was not happy. He didn’t think a girl could uphold such a prestige, so he never tried hard. You gave your all to impress your father but it was never enough for him. Then a few years later, he got Max, and when Max was of age he immediately started karting. You were quickly pushed to the back of his mind.

Through the years, even though you did better than Max, he still never cared about you as much as he did Max. Which is definitely saying something. You made your career as the youngest female driver to ever get second in the F2 Championship at 16 years old. At the last race, when you solidified your position as second in the WDC, you will always remember how your 12 year old baby brother went running up to you, pride swelling in his eyes.

He kept chanting your praises and hugged you tightly around your waist. Tears were brought to your eyes and you hugged him back. You took Max up to the podium with you and celebrated with the whole world watching. Except, Jos. His arms were crossed as he barely spared you a glance. That was the last time your heart broke because of him. You swore to yourself, you’d be there for Max how your father never was, and you’d stop relying on him to validate you.

Your success put you on the radar for many teams. The one you went with, was Red Bull. You joined their academy and were their first female reserve. There you met Daniel and became quick friends. Years later, when Max joined Toro Rosso you’d been driving for Red Bull for years already. You were the one that pushed for Max to be your reserve the following year, and everything fell into place.

Now you were 28. You had four consecutive vice championships under your wing and were driving alongside your two-consecutive championship winning brother. Everyone called you the ‘Wonder Twins’ and your family legacy had never burned brighter.

You were having a relaxing dinner with your brother and best friend, reminiscing on your life and how lucky you were. While Daniel and Max took over most of the conversation and were laughing the entire time, you memorized this night to remember it forever. Unbeknownst to Max, your boyfriend of four years was sitting further back in the restaurant having his own night. Glances were being passed back and forth between you to as your relationship was still a secret.

•••

It was 2018, after the Singapore race. The whole grid was out at some club and even some principals and team members joined you.

You and Danny were having the best time dancing and drinking, when you felt someone’s eyes on you. Finding the source gave you a shock and surprise to see Toto staring at you. When your eyes met, he sent a wink your way that made you blush and look back at Daniel. Hurriedly you whispered to him what had happened and the Aussie was at a loss for words. He knew of your little crush on the Austrian often teased you about it, but he never thought the crush would be reciprocated. Nonetheless he matched your excitement and decided you would do something about it.

Danny fluffed up your hair, and your ego, while encouraging you to go talk to him. ‘Open, lemme see your teeth,’ Daniel made a face at you telling you to do the same. You did and he confirmed that nothing was there. ‘Right, go at ‘em!’ He started to push you towards the bar.

‘What am i supposed to say!’ You started panicking while trying to look calm.

‘Turn up that Dutch charm or something! You’ve got this,’ Daniel winked and sent you on your way with a gentle pat on the back.

You were skeptical that Toto would even follow you to the bar. But he did. And somewhere in the night, small talk and glances turned into light touches and smiles. Which turned to laughs and close proximity, which led you going back to the hotel room with him for more privacy and a nightcap. The night was one to really remember as it started what you could only describe as the best thing to happen to you. The morning after wasn’t a walk of shame, no, your held was high and you were filled with joy and you stumbled all the way back to your room, eager to tell Danny all the details.

•••

You were brought back to reality as Daniel kicked you under the table and cleared his throat. Your face burned from how long you kept eye contact from across the room, while your brother sitting a foot away. ‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you laughed and took a sip of your wine.

'You spend too much of your time with us,' Max sighed and looked at Daniel for his agreement.

‘Max,’ you chuckled, ‘You guys are my best friends, and you’re also my brother, why wouldn’t I spend time with you?’ You asked.

‘I’m just saying, you’re with us all the time. And when you’re not you’re always in your room or by yourself,’ Max stated like it was fact. Daniel let out a quick laugh at the idea of you always being ‘alone’ when he knew where you really were.

This time you kicked him, ‘And what’s wrong with that?’

‘Darling we can’t be your only friends,’ Daniel teased. You shot him a deadpanned look and pretended to laugh.

‘I’m serious!’ Max looked almost offended that you and Daniel weren’t taking it as seriously as he was. Both of you immediately turned to him and looked concerned. ‘Daniel has Heidi, I have Kelly, you’re not getting any younger and you don’t have anyone.’

Your mouth was agape, did he just call you old? Daniel couldn’t hold his laughter in anymore and in classic honey badger style, he bursted out and was laughing so hard he couldn’t breath.

‘Max, I can assure you, you don’t have to worry about me.’ You tried to calm this conversation and put it to an end.

Much to your chagrin it didn’t really end. Max went on for a little while longer and you couldn’t have wished to not be there any more. When he finally got up to go to the bathroom, you slumped down in your chair.

Daniel was trying to get his breath back and was drinking his water. 'What was that? Max never cared about my love life!' You pinched your nose bridge and put your head down on the table.

'Why don't you just tell him? It's been four years, I don't think its too fresh anymore.'

'Oh yeah like it's that easy, 'Oh hey Max! I've been dating the Team Principal of Mercedes for years now, i just never told you!' You pretended to smile and used the fakest high pitched voice you had.

'You sarcastic little girl, it's not that big a deal. If you love each other, what's the big deal?'

'Okay don't call me a little girl you're like a few years older than me. Ugh, I miss the days when we had a PR relationship for publicity. No one asked me about my love life back then,' You groaned and took an even larger sip of your wine, the cup almost empty now.

'Just eat your food and stop sulking. You're secretly dating tall, dark, handsome, and hunky, like your life is so hard. Poor Romeo and Juliet.’ Daniel cut a piece off his steak and went back to eating. 'You're leading the championship and getting dicked down-‘

'Daniel!'

��••

You were all at Silverstone now. You just finished qualifying and the feelings were mixed. Max had unfortunately not done as well, but 6th wasn’t horrible. He was sure to make it up.

You were on your way back to your hotel when you got a message from Toto. Unfortunately for him, Lewis and George struggled a little more than they’d prefer. Toto had asked the front desk for an extra key to his room and had given it you prior. He wanted a bit of comfort tonight. He already let out his anger in the garage earlier, he would need another headset for tomorrow, and he wanted you to spend the night. you told him you’d be right over as soon as you were ready.

So a shower and an outfit change later, you were running over to his room and sliding the room key in as quick as you could. You always had to make sure no one saw when either of you went to the others room, so you’d gotten fairly good at it over the years.

As soon as you closed and locked the door, behind you came a pair of arms what wrapped themselves quickly around your waist. ‘Oh, meine liebe,’ the arms sighed in the crook of your neck.

‘Hello my darling,’ you leaned backwards onto the strong chest of your boyfriend and rested one hand around his neck, where his head was pressing kisses on yours. ‘How are you?’

He spun you around in his arms so he could rest his forehead on top your head. ‘Qualifying was piss poor, it seems we can’t get out of 7th and 8th.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, Alonso hasn’t been doing too well these last races. If Lewis manages to move even a few places the gap will tightens between them.’ You rubbed your hands up and down his back, trying yo offer some comforting words.

‘How can you be so impartial?’ He pressed a long kiss to your lips. ‘We’re from rival teams, shouldn’t you pray for our downfall?’ he kissed you again.

This time when he started to pull away you went to your tippy toes chasing after him, ‘We can both succeed without hurting the other.’ One of your hands was behind his neck, the other in his hair. ‘Well, so long as I’m winning.’ Each time he kissed you grew more passionate and desperate than the last. Neither of you had even realized that you’d walked backwards onto the bed until Toto’s legs hit the frame and you both fell.

After his back hit the mattress and you braces yourself on his chest you both erupted into laughter. You laid with your head and arms in his chest as he put one behind his head so he could see you properly. ‘It’s only a good race if you win darling,’ the look in his eyes was so intense you could feel your whole body get hotter.

Your ears grew red as you two kept the silence and just, stared. ‘I love you,’ you softly said.

‘I love you,’ his thick accented voice soothed your heart and made it swell four times the size.

‘I wish we didn’t have to keep everything so secret,’ you uttered in a sort of defeated tone.

‘Meine liebe, I’d get all those silly little social media apps just to tell the whole world about us if you asked.’ He sat up, and pulled you with him into an upright position. You were straddling his lap, arms around his waist, as he pulled you in for a deep kiss, all in an effort to emphasize his love for you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t like it when he held you like you weighed nothing. At eye level with him now, you couldn’t hold back anymore and jumped at his face. You kissed him so quickly and deeply you could’ve sworn he gasped. You nibbled on his lip and he let out a groan that you immediately swallowed, the sound only sending you into hyperdrive. Your intensity fueled him and you both became hungry for each other. Hands roaming and bodies moving in sync with each other.

His hands gripped your thighs and you tightened your legs around his waist. Once again, like you weight nothing, he took advantage of your tightening around him and lifted you up so he could further up the bed. Not once did you disconnect from each other as the night began to escalate.

He laid you down on your back and hovered over you, only a mere few inches from laying on you. Lips swollen and eyes dilated in lust you uttered ‘I love yours’ once more before connecting your lips for what feels like the tenth time that night.

All you were was a mess of sweaty skin, hushed breaths and some of the most explicit sounds that would make anyone blush. Nights like these, we’re you were able to care for each other and pretend the world outside didn’t exist were your favorite. Nights where you two could just be in love, not Mercedes Team Principal and Red Bulls Golden Girl.

Nights like these where you were Romeo and Juliet, fighting against your families and becoming your own.

•••

It was the last lap of Silverstone and adrenaline was running high. Your father had shown up to this race which already put you in a sour mood, you just wanted him to leave. You had Lando pushing behind you, granted the gap was 11.63 seconds but you wanted it to stay that way. Your only goal now was to get fastest lap to really tie it in. All these years later and you were still desperate for your father to see how good you were. See how you did it all by yourself.

You knew that behind Lando was Max, and even though you would always wish the best for the papaya boy, you knew that if max couldn’t overtake Jos would not be happy. His permanently disappoint disposition still hurt Max and it hurt you to see it.

Tension was running high as the race was coming to a close. There wasn’t a sound you could hear besides your own heart and you crossed the finish line. Lando followed behind and Max just .01 of a second behind him. It was close, and you were just so happy for both of them that you didn’t care if your brother didn’t overtake him.

When the final lap was over and you parked your car, the first thing you did was take off your helmet and look at the crowds. Amongst the cheering crowds, McLaren going wild and Red Bull screaming at the top of their lungs you watched as your brother pulled into the third spot and got out. Max made eye contact with your father and you could watch his heart break. Although he had preformed so well Jos was never pleased.

This ignited something in your veins. You watched him cross his arms and stand silently in the crow of cheering Red Bulls, the cameras showing off the orange army going insane in the bleachers. Yet somehow, the happiness couldn’t rub off on him.

You were tired of him.

You couldn’t take a single second of his attitude anymore.

So with all your courage and fire, you arm over to where Mercedes had piled off to the side. Your pushing through the crowds caught the cameras attention and all eyes were on you.

There in that second there was only one thought in your head. One idea: and you were going to follow through. You always do. You found Toto looking around shocked and confused as to why you were right in front of him. And in that second, you kissed him.

You brought both of your hands up to cup his face and you smashed your lips against his. As if the world melted around you his hands found your hips and the two of you were pushing so hard into each other, it was hard to tell where you ended and he started.

Just like the night before, you were one. You weren’t Mercedes v. Red Bull. You were boy and girl, hopelessly in love.

The crowd and gone silent.

You two pulled away ever so slightly, foreheads rested against the others as Toto supported your weight so you didn’t have to strain your feet too much to reach him. Despite just hard launching your relationship without any kind of talking about it before hand, the two lovers embraced each other.

‘The world knows now,’ he whispered in your ear.

‘Let them.’ You smiled as you hugged him tighter. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you.’ he whispered back.

Cheers and whoops erupted around you. Despite the initial shock of your relationship people were just happy. It was a good race with an even better surprise at the end, how could they complain?

The two of you pulled apart and smiled at each other, the world so unused to swing Toto so domestic and soft. You have him one more hot kiss before walking back to do the post race interview and award ceremony.

‘I guess she isn’t so alone, huh..’ Max looked star struck as Daniel laughed and patted him on the back.

You walked back and Jos was furious at your vulgar and inappropriate display. You’d never seen him so mad. It made you audibly laugh.

You put your Rub Bull cap on and walked right up to David Coulthard and smiled, waiting to start the questions.

‘Well that was something,’ He laughs in a slightly awkward manor. ‘Can I assume there’s something going on between you two?’

‘We’ve been dating for a while, I love him.’ You never smiled brighter.

‘A congratulations is in order then, for the race and for your love!’ He barked out in laughter as you thanked him and giggled.

Your eyes never left Toto, even as the anthems played and the trophies were handed out. Even as you sprayed each other with champagne and celebrated. Neither of you looked away. The smiles so evident on your faces and that in love glow never left. At that moment, neither of you cared about the repercussions that would follow. The PR mess and the scolding from Christian. It was just you two, in love.

The love you shared didn’t have to be bottled anymore. You two didn’t have to hide anymore, you could be together freely and honestly. That was all you wanted in life. To be with your love, in love, with no secrets or shame. You loved each other and that was all that mattered.

fin.

#toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 #reader insert #max verstappen #red bull f1 #daniel ricciardo #my fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fiction #f1 x oc #f1 x female driver #f1 x female reader #mercedes amg f1 #red bull racing

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lalunanymph · 2 years ago

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𝐎𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — bachira. m

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 after his triumphant return to tokyo following the exhilarating world cup season, bachira stumbles upon a startling revelation involving his ex-fwb that would change his life forever.

tw. fwb!reader, fem!reader, pro-player!bachira, baby d(a)ddy!bachira is 21 here, unprotected s(e)x, pregnancy, language, dacryphilia, size kink, angst, misunderstandings, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, petnames (mama, princess, baby, etc), daddy kink, bachira being bachira, MDNI ⋆ ★ for the lovely @j1ngyuans who provided me such wonderful insight to bachi’s character and helped motivate this fic along <33

Rain glimmered off the window pane, highlighting his golden-hued eyes. The circles etched onto them were nothing compared to the purple bruising his collarbones from your teeth.

Those same eyes roamed over your bare spine, curling within the cave of his arms. Despite the late hour and the reality of an early morning flight, Bachira couldn’t find it in himself to walk away.

Your warmth intoxicated him to stay for a few more seconds, caught in the trap of your vanilla-scented hair and sleep-heavy features.

Meguru had promised himself he would stop this last week. Then, he found himself in front of your apartment door, and the next day, in between your sheets. He let it happen three more times before his brain caught up and he remembered the event circled on his calendar.

The flight he had to take which would place 3,000 miles of distance between you two.

But, that was last week. Now, he was a man riddled with splitting emotions. Leave or stay; fight or fly?

Meguru sighed, and the minute movement caught your attention.

“Megu-chan?”

“Hmm?”

You looked down at your laced fingers with his, and Bachira had to sneak a kiss onto your forehead. You were too adorable for your own good.

“How long will you be in Germany?”

Bachira liked to believe he had a hold on this situation; that he wouldn’t quote unquote catch feelings. He had nearly tackled Rachi for teasing him when the dumb blonde saw your name flashing across his phone screen. Isagi smiled, but didn’t say much when his affairs came to light. The rest of the team thought it was funny he had found someone who could tolerate him, much less sleep with him three times in a week.

But, the young striker was coming to terms that you weren’t a normal woman.

No one else could stand his endless rantings about football, his tendency to forget why he stepped into a room in the first place or his strange sleeping habits.

No one else but you.

Meguru traces his thumb across your knuckles, contemplating how soft they felt under his touch.

“Just for three months, princess.” A grin tugged on his lips. “Why? Miss me already?”

You give him a look and roll your eyes. “No.”

“Doesn’t sound convincing.”

He felt your smaller fingers tangling in his long locks, tugging on the bleached strands. ��Not convincing? That’s not true, either.”

You were an enigma he couldn’t wrap his mind around.

Smart and independent, you held your own in a fast-paced job and rented a pretty sweet apartment in the heart of Azabu. Bachira thought you must’ve been fucked in the head to let some random soccer player onto your radar, much less your home. But, one look at him from across the bar must’ve caught your attention.

You offered to buy him a drink, and within a few hours, he had you pressed into your own silk sheets, crying out his name.

It didn’t stop there. He secretly added your number into his phone, and texted you the next day, offering to buy you dinner. Part of him thought you would be weirded out by his forwardness. You weren’t.

The next night, he took you to Nobu for a ridiculously priced omakase dinner and fucked you in the back of his Mercedes till the windows shook and you squirted all over him.

As quirky and outlandish as he was, Bachira Meguru was a gentleman.

His mother always told him to be nice to girls, even if they weren’t his girlfriend. Bachira took her lessons to heart and offered to pay for everything; your Ubers to his place, the midnight takeout you both would order after every session, and the condoms he would forget in his back pocket the moment he saw you standing by his front door in a short skirt.

Meguru didn’t need his teammates to tell him that he was crazy. Every time he found himself sprawled in your bed, the taste of you heavy on his tongue, your touch searing through his skin, he thought about the next few months.

Why the fuck would you start a relationship if you knew you were going to be drafted for a season in fucking Germany?

Bachira had argued that it wasn’t a relationship.

When Isagi pressed him on what type of connection you both had, he clammed up.

A first for the usually outspoken, carefree young man.

Kunigami had blinked. Raichi guffawed loudly, almost making the windows shake with his laughter.

“Fuck. Our Bachira has a little piece of ass on the side!”

Friends with benefits. Meguru had never heard of that term before. Granted, he didn’t have many friends, much less any of them that came with benefits.

But, he found that he liked your company. Liked when you snorted too hard at one of his jokes or whined for him to help take out the trash. He grew fond of your fingers scratching his scalp lightly or how you always wore his shirts when you went to collect the delivered food from your front door.

It was why his tongue suddenly felt too heavy when he had to reply to your question. His eyes darted to the mark he left on your shoulder, and he touched it absentmindedly.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.”

You blinked. Bachira drank you in; really took his time to absorb you in your entirety.

There was a smudge of your mascara underneath your left eye, and your lipstick was stained with him. The dress you wore was shoved somewhere underneath the bed, probably kicked to the side in a rush of passion, and you were clad in only your bra. He tugged at the strap, fighting back the urge to see you completely bare.

He had to get his last hit of you, even if it couldn’t fill that strange, you-shaped hole underneath his ribcage.

Gently unclasping the last article of clothing, he threw it to the floor. You squeaked, drawing your bare hands to your breasts to cover them. But, he clicked his tongue, batting them aside.

Years of training to be a pro-player and a diet rich in protein and soccer fanaticism helped him shoot up past the six foot mark and he could’ve almost rivalled Nagi in the height department. His shoulders had broadened, pecs firming up and back becoming defined from endless days of training.

On top of him, you felt as light as a feather. A doll that was tinier compared to his larger build.

And Bachira loved it.

He loved pinning you down onto the mattress, licking your tears and cooing at you to take him. He loved it when had a slight limp the next day, or when you winced and squeezed your thighs a little from the chaffing. It made the monster in him prickle with pride.

Your glossy eyes met his, and you hiccuped at the feeling of him breaching past your fluttering hole. After three rounds, you were still as tight as when the evening started. Bachira grinned, palming your breasts and slapping them a little, watching the fat jiggle.

“Pretty, pretty baby is so warm and wet f’me.” You shivered at his words, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he guided your hips downward. Trying to get you to bottom out. “Good girl,” he drawled, kissing your wet cheeks. “Lookie, I’m almost in! You can finally fit me. Heh, took you—what? Two rounds? But, I’m only halfway through. Am I still too big for you?”

You gritted your teeth, turning your face away. He felt your walls clamping down on him in humiliation, and his sick grin grew.

“S-Shut up.”

Bachira tsked and tried to help you relax by gently rubbing his thumb on your tender clit. The shot of arousal helped to lubricate his cock more, your juices trickling down his stiff length. “Mouthy. And Meguru is trying to help you, too. So ungrateful.”

Hot, fire pain exploded across your left ass cheek, and you cried out, clenching down harder on him.

“Mhmph—Meguru!”

“Yeah,” his breathing got heavier, golden eyes hooded. “Mhm, that’s right. Say my name, baby.”

His thumb circled your nub frantically, desperate to get you unravelling. Your mewls touched his hot ears, and he felt you shudder on top of him. In a short second, you clamped down, choking his dick and Bachira groaned.

“Pretty girl,” he whispered while you were in the throes of your orgasm. “Cumming like a perfect slut for Meguru.”

He flipped you onto your back, taking both of your hands in his and breaching past your halfway stretched hole. Still sensitive from his previous treatment, you shuddered and wailed, back arched till only the crown of your head was touching the mattress.

“Megu—“

He sank into the hilt. Bachira set a pace that had you moaning his name. Your tits jiggled lewdly in his face, nipples hard and circling to graze the hard planes of his chest. You closed your eyes and he growled. “Open them. Look at me.”

You drank in the darkness seeping through his golden orbs with shameless need. Bachira’s clipped thrusts and sturdy hips slapping into yours filled the air with wet squelches and your airy moans. You were close again; he felt your thighs clench around his waist.

Unable to stop himself, Bachira gathered your ass cheeks in his bigger palms, gripping and spreading them so his cock could pound deeper and harder inside of you. The change in angle made your toes curl, and your breathing became both heavier and airier at the same time.

You curled your fingers with his, tightening your grip on his hands. Bachira brought one wrist to his lips, kissing the soft skin there.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Meguru watched the line of your throat constrict, your shoulders twitch and thighs tremble. He felt you sucking him in, unable to let him go; desperate to cling onto him with a vengeance. You shattered with such pleasurable desperation it was like a work of erotic art coming to life.

His own orgasm hit him like a truck to the face; Bachira dug his heels into the bed, lifting his hips up so his cock could breach you deeper. The hot flow of his seed stained your insides, lodging deep past your cervix. His head was spinning, and the smell of you burned his nose. Sweet vanilla and skin filled his open mouth, your weight pressing sweetly into every nook and crevice of his body.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “So good.”

You mumbled his name, and the garish green light of your digital clock highlighted the dip in your brow; the fluttering sleepiness of your eyes closing shut. Bachira waited until your breathing evened out.

He picked himself from your embrace and kissed your hair. Intermittently, he would glance up at you as he slid his pants on and buttoned his shirt up. But, you remained asleep, curled into a small ball with your head on his designated pillow. Bachira doesn’t want to let sentimentality linger for too long on his already conflicted soul, so he gave you one last kiss on your forehead before departing out your door.

Speeding out of your life for the last time.

As you dwelled in dreamland, he arrived at the airport, half an hour late and with his hair sticking out in odd ends. His teammates snickered when they saw him, but they didn't ask where he was or who he spent his last moments in Japan with.

Bachira told himself that it was part of the charm of being in a mutually beneficial situationship. You got him off and he got you off in equal reward.

But, as the plane took off and Raichi’s grumbles for good food service rattled in his ear, he couldn’t help himself from turning his neck slightly to the right.

Trying to catch a glimpse of your red-tiled apartment roof from 5,000 feet in the air before the clouds and frost swirled over his window, blocking his sights.

Returning back to Japan after three months shouldn’t scare him, but it did.

Bachira doesn’t know what to expect when he comes back to his homeland. He barely had the time to dwell on it when the doors opened and Ego was ushering them out into the gateway, the European Cup tucked comfortably under his arm; safely wrapped and whose silhouette was an unmistakable win for Japan.

Hoards of screaming fans welcome them back with flashing cameras and banners. Local paparazzi flocked to them with questions about the next season. He stood there as reporter after reporter interviewed Isagi, and occasionally trailed the mic on his media-trained coach who promised the nation of more wins to come.

His mother greeted him at the airport arrival, and Bachira pretended not to feel a smidgen of disappointment when squealing girls would run towards their boyfriends, engulfing them in large hugs and sweet smiles. It truly was funny how he hadn’t thought of you much throughout the long, gruelling weeks in Germany’s winter, but the very second he arrived back home, you were at the forefront of his mind.

Yuu was sweet and patient when her son returned her questions with sluggish exhaustion. She didn’t comment when he staggered into his bedroom, and fell asleep in his crumpled clothes; her poor, sleepy soccer star.

The next morning, his mother left him a note, telling him that she was out for the day to meet with an art curator. Lonely, restless and bored, he decided to help his mom with the groceries and take her car down to the closest mart in their neighbourhood.

Bachira didn’t expect anyone to recognise him from his newfound fame, not when he reached the car park and all he could see were milling mothers and elderly people scrutinising their potential purchases in hand. The cold air stung his bare hands when he reached for a trolley, pushing it down dreary aisles while flickering his attention to the list his mother had set down on the dining table the night before.

Ka-san would be happy I crossed this off the list for her. Buoyed with the thought of his mother’s grateful smile, Bachira almost missed a familiar face walking down the bread aisle. It was when he almost crashed his trolley into a stranger’s cart that he glanced up, about to open his mouth and apologise when he saw you.

Except, you’re not exactly how he remembered you.

For one, your coat was much too large, and your dark circles were way too pronounced to be considered normal.

And secondly, your palm was protectively pressed onto your belly. A belly that was swollen and protruding. Unmistakably pregnant.

Bachira inhaled sharply. Before he could call out a greeting, you mumbled a hasty apology and swung your cart from his path, hurrying down the aisle.

Bewildered, Bachira craned his neck around, wondering if you had forgotten who he was. But, you didn’t. You surely couldn’t. Because you were rushing to pay for your things, and in the split second it sank in that you were fumbling for your coins, did it hit him that he was supposed to say something to you.

Why are you pregnant?

Whose child is that?

Do you not recognise me?

Did you not miss me?

“Hey, wait!” His desperate voice punctuated the frosty air of the car park.

You hurried off faster when you heard him, trying to evade his presence. But, Bachira was faster and taller and you were physically at a disadvantage from your heavy belly. He caught up with you in no time, and reached for your elbow. You squeaked, almost dropping your bag of groceries when you felt his long fingers encircling your arm.

“Meguru—“

“Why were you running away from me?”

This close, he noticed the snowflakes hanging off the ends of your lashes; how your skin glowed softly away from the harshness of the grocery store’s fluorescent lights.

You stuttered and flushed like you were caught in a lie. “I-I wasn’t!” Curling one hand on your stomach, you missed how his eyes flickered towards that minute movement. In his fit of panic, Bachira had chased after you without completing his groceries, cheeks ruddy and hot from the sharp cold. A part of him couldn’t believe you were standing here; physically right in front of him.

Was he still dreaming? What were the odds of bumping into the very same person you were just thinking of the night before?

A miracle. That’s what it was.

But, you looked like the sight of him was nothing short of a nightmare.

Unable to hold his gaze, you shifted from one foot to another. Bachira grabbed the heavy bag you were gripping tight to your chest and encouraged you to let him carry it with a gentle tug. You unknowingly release your grip on the paper bag, shifting your eyes to your feet.

He had to break the silence. He had to get some answers.

“Congratulations on the pregnancy,” he muttered flatly, dull-eyed. “I suppose you got married and started a family when I was away, huh?”

To his surprise, your eyes started to well up. You dashed at them, and in the faint morning sun, your ring finger was as bare as the winter-struck trees above. Bachira had to take a step back.

“Wait… how long are you?”

Your pretty face was twisted into a frown, and you were resolutely not looking into his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

You tried to walk away from him, but Meguru was still stubborn.

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he snarled, surprising the both of you by his fire. “Tell me the truth. Did you fuck someone else while I was away?”

His question ignited a flame of defiance from you.

“What the fuck, Meguru? How dare you ask me something like this?”

Your teary eyes dissipated, leaving behind a glow of anger that threatened to sear him whole. “First of all, I don’t owe you an explanation. Second of all, please give me back my groceries and third—” you shifted uncomfortably, scowling at your own two feet. Bachira hated to admit how adorable you were when you glared at the ground. “—I’m really, really hungry. Can you stop squishing my bread? It’s supposed to be for breakfast.”

He blinked. Slowly, he handed you back your paper bag of groceries. You snatched them with a flurry of indignation, turning on your heel.

“Is it mine?”

You stopped dead in your tracks.

Meguru hadn’t realised how empty the carpark became until he noticed the small of your back threatening to be swallowed by the vastness. It felt like eons since he last saw you. He wished you would just give him a hug.

Your shoulders hunched forward, hugging the crumpled bag tightly to your chest.

Without your denial or confirmation, Bachira could make an educated guess.

“Three months, huh? You found out about the little critter while I was away, right?”

“Don’t call him a critter.”

Bachira’s heart soared straight to his throat, lodging right there. “It’s a boy?”

You didn’t run away or try to brush him off this time. From the slope of your shoulders to the tremble in your hands, Meguru sensed your defences falling to leave you open and vulnerable. He rushed forward to patch you up again.

Guiding you into his embrace, Bachira didn’t care if you both were in public or someone would whisper at the indecency. He pressed a kiss to your hair.

“You should’ve told me,” he mumbled, not sure if he was saying the right thing. “I would’ve returned back in a heartbeat.”

“You had a dream to fulfil,” your sad sigh reached back to him. “I didn’t want to be a hassle.”

Bachira turned you around, lifting your chin to tip your head up to meet his serious gaze. “Y/N, you are not a hassle to me. You’re my friend. And friends help friends, amirite?”

You had to muster a smile at his innocence. “Yes, Meguru. You’re right.” Looking into those golden eyes you missed after the longest, loneliest three months of your life, you teared up again. “I-I’m sorry—”

He shushed you with a finger on your lips and a grin. “Don’t cry anymore, Y/N. Meguru’s here, yeah? Come on. You said you’re hungry? Let me make you breakfast.” Without giving you a chance to refuse, Bachira took your groceries from you and your hand. “The little guy is gonna have the best breakfast of his life!”

“Meguru, wait—”

“And I’ll make him my special pancakes.”

“Megu-chan—”

“And he can meet his grandma, too!”

“Bachira!”

He stopped in his tracks and looked down to find you flushed and glaring. Cocking his head to the side, Bachira widened his eyes, innocently scanning your angry expression.

“Yes, Y/N?”

You raised an exasperated brow, chagrined that he couldn’t connect the dots.

How exactly did he think you arrived at the store? On a magic carpet?

“Um, are you forgetting about my car? I can’t just leave it here for the whole day, genius.”

You had no idea how you ended up living with the Bachiras.

It started with Yuu taking one look at you, your swollen belly and her son’s sheepish smile to put everything together.

Since your own parents were in a precinct far from Tokyo, she took you in as her own, nevermind the fact that it was her son who got you knocked up in the first place. Despite the social stigma attached to a pregnancy out of wedlock, she never shamed you or made you feel less than perfect for your condition. Instead, you noticed how she would eye Meguru past the rim of her mug, a look of deep disappointment on her pretty features.

She heard about how you and her son met; how the both of you were strictly engaged in a physical affair and nearly bit her tongue off before she could nag Meguru. Though his mother was less than thrilled at the idea of being a grandmother in her late forties, Yuu Bachira was nothing but kind and sweet to the woman carrying her grandson. She made sure you were properly fed, had a soft enough bed in her guest room and even instructed Meguru to pick you up from the train station after work.

It was everything you didn’t deserve and more.

While his mother was trying her best to be accommodating to this staggering new change in her life, Bachira himself was struggling to coincide with the idea that you were carrying his baby.

It started with an ultrasound appointment. Since he was locked in Germany for those three months you had to wade through this pregnancy on your own, he was more than eager to make up for lost time by sticking to your side. The first time he saw his baby boy on screen, he had teared up, cupping your sticky stomach and leaving kisses on your belly’s crown, your skin tacky from the ultrasound gel. Then, he complained on the entire ride home that his lips felt funky and tingly.

You had almost forgotten how eccentric your baby daddy was.

Where other men would give their women space to grow and nurture a human being, Meguru was always an inch away when you needed him. It didn’t matter if he was out the whole day training. The second you called and told him that you were waiting at the train station, you would be greeted not even five minutes later by a panting Meguru behind the wheel. Your feet were hurting? Meguru would stop and sit you down on a bench, removing your sandals to squeeze your swollen ankles, much to your flushed and embarrassed exasperation at passersby’s stopping to stare.

And not to mention how neurotic he was with your food intake.

“I heard protein is good for the baby! Y’know… to help grow their limbs and muscles and stuff.”

In all honesty, his eager cluelessness was adorable. But, the mountain of fresh sausages on a single plate was worrying.

“Megu-chan, this is too much food for me,” you whined, sliding your perplexed gaze to his. “I can’t possibly eat this much!”

“Silly, I’ll help you,” he sang, sitting opposite of your huge plate of wieners before jumping back to his feet like this chair was made of hot coals. “Oops, forgot the mustard!”

Life with Bachira Meguru was interesting, to say the least.

Sometimes, you would catch him staring at your belly in wistful happiness. Other times, you would find yourself back in your bedroom after passing out on the couch, a blanket tucked underneath your chin and your favourite small extra pillow supporting your lower back.

However, similar to every event in life, it would amount to nothing without conflict.

The first (and only) crease in your relationship with the eccentric striker unfurled through an unexpected visit.

The air in the tiny apartment was charged with the presence of four burly men in the living room. When you came back home from your short walk around the neighbourhood, you hadn’t expected the extra pair of shoes by the doorway, or the boisterous laughs booming from behind the corner.

“... heard your piece of ass is living with you now—ow!”

“That is no way to talk about a pregnant woman.”

An ungraceful snort resounded through the small space that reminded you of a bull huffing. “I meant to say that Bachira’s little friend is a little too comfortable, here, no?”

“For real, man. I think I saw a breast pump catalogue somewhere on the table.”

“Shut the fuck up, Raichi.” Meguru never showed his annoyance to anyone’s face. Whoever this Raichi guy was, he must be a piece of work to get your baby daddy this riled up.

“Aw. C��mon, don’t tell me you’re in love with her.”

Something about the words ‘love’ and ‘Bachira’ in one sentence had you pausing by the doorway to hone in on his unfiltered confession. Maybe you were a lovesick fool, and maybe you were naive to the core—but you had weakly hoped his feelings for you were more than friendly. Call it a delusion, but it was too late to separate logic from the illusion his kind and considerate gestures gave you.

“Nah,” the voice you were starting to love touched your ringing ears. “I’m not in love with her. Just being nice, that’s all. I feel bad for getting her knocked up before leaving Japan. We’re just friends.”

Someone laughed. Your shoulders slumped forward, heart shattering into pieces.

A hollow, dying tree has more life compared to your stiff joints. You gingerly took one step back, conflicted by the sudden onset of nausea and anger. It soon gave way to a profound disappointment which corroded through your lungs like acid fumes.

You choked back on a cry, spinning around and slipping your shoes back on. Barely fazed that someone could hear you rushing down the hall, your pattering footsteps faded in the distance, and the tiny apartment you were beginning to call home continued to stand in ignorance, oblivious to the inner earthquake rocking you apart.

Your pain barely touched the real world, its ripples muted.

The same way your presence made no difference in Bachira Meguru’s life.

It was close to evening time and you still weren’t home.

Those idiots he had the pleasure of calling teammates had fucked off for dinner, leaving him anxious and worried for your safety when you hadn’t responded to his text of Where are you?

Bachira was halfway contemplating if he should start putting up posters of you, when the front door clicked open. His mother entered, bearing a frosty glare and sharp eyes, dashing his hopes and igniting his anxiety in one enraged glance.

“Ka-san, have you seen—”

“What did you say to her?”

Meguru blinked. “Say to who?”

“Y/N,” Yuu replied angrily, as if her son’s obliviousness personally insulted her. “I found her crying by the staircase, refusing to come back up here. Said she overstayed her welcome and if I could send her back to her own apartment.” The frown lines on his mother’s forehead deepened. “What did you say to her, Meguru?”

His golden eyes widened. “Nothing! I swear. W-what did she tell you?”

Yuu set her art bag on the table, sighing. “She didn’t make any sense.” Narrowing her eyes, she glared at her son again. “But, I sent her back to her apartment. She was almost hysterical and I didn’t want to stress her out even more. I’ll be packing her things.”

Helpless to stop his mom from arranging your small suitcase filled with your belongings, Meguru shifted from foot to foot, wondering if he had done something wrong and how he could make it right.

“Should I talk to her?” He wondered out loud.

Yuu wrinkled her nose. “Give her some time to gather herself. You can talk to her when she’s calmer.”

Continuing to pack up your things, his mother barely paid him any attention. Meguru was reminded of those times when he was younger. How guilty he felt when he took in Yuu’s exhausted, but determined expression from raising a child all on her own.

“Ka-san, I want to speak to her,” he murmured. “It’s not right that she’s alone. She’s pregnant.”

Unlike his mother who had to work hard to provide for him, Meguru would never put you through the same thing. He was here as your friend and support; you could count on him to share the burdens with you.

Yuu paused from picking up your night clothes, tilting her head to the side. “If you want to talk to her, I’m not able to stop you. But, just remember to not stress her out. Like you said—she’s pregnant.”

He nodded, despite how she couldn’t see him doing so with her back turned.

Gathering his car keys and courage, Bachira dragged himself out of the apartment and to his car, determined to reach out to you.

The journey to your place was calm for a Saturday night, and once he reached your front gates, he was reminded of the nights he snuck here, blonde-brown hair tucked under his hoodie and hands in his pockets. Trying to seem cool enough to earn your approval.

Bachira internally cringed at the memory and set forward towards your unit. He knocked on the door, peeling his eyes and ears for a sign of you. Eventually, his relentless knocks and calls of your name attracted the sound of your footfalls walking towards the door. Worried, flaxen eyes swept down your figure wrapped in a loose t-shirt the second the door opened, guilt consuming him when he noticed your red-rimmed eyes and wet nose.

“Meguru,” you mumbled, straightening. “Why’re you here?”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. Bachira had never had to apologised for something he didn’t do. But, he wanted to try for you. “Whatever I did, Y/N… I’m sorry, okay? Come back and stay with us. It’s not good to be alone in your state.”

Staring up at his hulking figure, your expression crumbled into one of misery. Bachira found himself gripping your cheeks before his mind could play catch-up. He tipped your head back with two fingers, forcing you to confront his panic.

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me how I can make you feel better. What do you want from Meguru to help you?”

The fact that he would sometimes refer to himself in third-person never failed to make you giggle, a watery, pathetic laugh breaking free past your clenched teeth.

“It’s stupid.”

“Not a valid reason, princess. Try me.”

“Don’t hate me.”

“I won’t,” he promised, brushing a loose lock of hair from your face. “You can tell me anything.”

You flickered your gaze to your laced fingers, fiddling with your hands. “I… I heard what you told your friends. That you don’t—” you cringed back, but his fingers around your cheeks held you firm, coaxing you to give him the full picture of your distress. Inhaling deeply, you forced yourself to continue.

“That you don’t love me.”

His brows were knitted together, mouth set in a frown. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to the punch.

“I know we’re just friends. That you don’t see me as a partner and we’re just co-parenting our baby. But… but I want more, Meguru. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

It took legions of courage to admit to someone that you wanted love. As clueless and eccentric as the world saw him, loneliness was a common emotion that he understood very well. And right before him, Bachira could see that you were so incredibly lonely.

He never thought about the effects of his treatment on you. How his polite and friendly gestures could be interpreted as disinterest. The truth was, Bachira was crazy about you. He never wanted to stay friends, but the timing was never right. His career would take him to another country for another season and you were in a delicate state with your pregnancy. Despite his overwhelming emotions, the young striker could not deny how you brightened his every waking moment.

Whether it was watching you devour an entire tub of ice-cream and moan about it later, or tucking you into bed after finding you dozing off on the couch, you held a special part in his heart which he rarely ever gave to people who were not Isagi or his mom.

You were his special friend.

And he was in love with you.

“Silly, silly girl,” Bachira cooed, catching you by surprise. He leaned forward, pecking your forehead first, then your damp cheeks. “For such a smart woman, you can be so stupid sometimes.”

Indignation rushed through your face, and you opened your mouth, that hot temper he found incredibly sexy fighting to put him in his place. Rather than letting it spill out, Bachira claimed your lips with his, silencing your anger. Replacing it with your soft moans and parted lips that silently screamed for more.

He nudged you back into your apartment, closing the door behind him. Luckily, your shirt and shorts were easy to yank off and your couch was three feet away from the entrance. He sat down on the sturdy cushion, parting his knees and tugging you to sit on top of his bulge. Touching you in a way he hadn’t done since the moment he put his baby in you.

And what a sight it was. He traced your bulging belly with lust-imbued eyes, biting on his lower lip to stifle an embarrassing, animalistic groan.

“You’re so sexy, mama,” he whispered, reaching out to knead your tits. “So fucking round and glowy. I should put more babies in you.”

You tossed your head back with a soft mewl. “Mhm—Meguru…”

“Yeah, say my name, baby,” he taunted, using the tips of his thumbs to flick your hardening nubs. They were much more sensitive than he remembered, all hard and perky just for him. “Gonna make you fucking combust. Give your sweet, hot, mom-bod all the loving she deserves—”

Twining your fingers in his long hair, you tugged him closer, smashing your mouth onto his. An attempt to stop his teasing. Bachira gave you your way with him, allowing you to grind down on his bulge, slip your tongue in his mouth. He would be putty just for you; let you exert your pent-up hormonal frustrations on his willing body.

You impatiently yanked his belt off, nearly ripping his jeans button off in an effort to get his cock. He leaned back, arms spreading across the back of your sofa as he took in the heavenly sight of your dainty hands pumping his cock. You barely had to arouse yourself; your soaked pussy drooling all over his knee and rock hard nipples were rearing to go.

Bachira pinned his half-lidded eyes on you as you lowered yourself on his dick, craning your head forward to watch your pussy suck him in. He watched your expression spread with joyous lust, your brows scrunched in pleasure. You used him thoroughly as he expected. All he had to do was rock his hips upwards while you gripped his shoulders, fucking yourself up and down his cream-slickened length.

Once in a while, you would lean forward and claim his lips in a desperate kiss, your hips frantically rocking back and forth over his swelling dick. Meguru let his head loll back, his biceps and thighs tensing against your couch. When you pitched forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he let his patience snap, strong arms vining around you and taking over your weak grinding to thrust up heavily into your welcoming pussy.

“Let Meguru take care of you, honey,” he mumbled into your neck. “You’re my fucking gorgeous Queen, yeah? Shouldn’t be lifting a damn finger to fuck yourself if I can help it.”

His low grunts and masculine groans reverberated against your throat, driving you deeper into your insanity.

“M-Meguru—!”

“Close?” he panted, brushing his nose against your pulse point. “Cum for me, mama. Make your Daddy proud, yeah?”

Something about that simple term—’Daddy’—had you seeing stars behind your eyes.

“Yes, Daddy!” you cried out, thighs tensing and pussy choking down on his dick. “Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close!”

The band around your belly snapped, careening you off the edge. Bachira was not far behind, and he pulses inside of you, filling you with his hot seed within three searing seconds.

Exhausted and dazed, the both of you slump into each other’s arms, satisfied beyond a shade of doubt.

Bachira squeezed your hips, a ghost of his chuckle brushing your jaw.

“Mama? You okay?”

“Mhm,” you responded back weakly. “M’okay.”

“Marry me.”

The dizzy curtains of an afterglow retreated back slightly, and your eyes widened. You peeled your sweaty cheek from the crook of his neck, staring at him with a trapped breath.

“W-What?”

Completely serious now, Bachira’s gaze could’ve penetrated your soul. “You heard me, mama. I want you to be mine forever. So, marry me.”

“B-but,” you sputtered, tripping over your words. “W-we haven’t even been on a date. You don’t know me that well. I—”

“Didn’t you want me to be in love with you? What better way to show you that than tying the knot?” He quirked one brow up, looking so ridiculous and handsome at the same time, you had to bury your face back into his neck.

“I didn’t mean marriage just yet!” you whisper-yelled.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant, I—I do!”

“Then, I do, too. That settles it. Boom. We’re married.”

Despite how ridiculous this conversation was, you burst out into laughter, and then, your peals of giggles morphed into sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Meguru cooed in panic, rushing to brush the wetness from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.”

You stared at him in his entirety with pure love in your watery gaze. How infuriating, silly and beautiful he absolutely was. Irrational as it was, you reached forward to cup his face, squishing his cheeks together and squeezing them. Your beloved, annoying, sweet, eccentric Bachira.

“You are so adorable.”

He blinked. “So are we getting married or not?”

Another watery giggle slipped past your lips, and you released his cheeks, preferring to press your forehead to his.

“Yes,” you finally admitted after a beat of silence, marvelling at how easy it was for him to change your mind without putting much effort into it. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married, Meguru.”

— feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated <33

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or claim as your own.

#blue lock bachira #bachira meguru #bachira smut #bachira x y/n #bachira imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #SHES HERE IM SO HAPPY THIS TURNED OUT GR8 ‼️#🦢 writes

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naoristerling · 6 months ago

Text

Beomgyu fanfic recomendation | Tumbrl ao3

moonstone (why didn't you tell me) - choi beomgyu

|11,4k @healingpage casamento de best

After a painful betrayal by her fiance and a backstab with her close friend, Y/n is heartbroken. When her best friend, Beomgyu, discovers her called-off wedding, he brings her to the land of Japan, believing that over the course of the four day trip, he can convince her to come home happy, or to at least move on from the guy. But his plan goes south when Y/n finds a note on his phone, about his actual feelings on her previous relationship.

i can't swim, idiot ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi beomgyu | 11,7k @beom-pyu bests fingem ser casados

choi beomgyu x fem!reader , tags: best friends to lovers au , beomgyu is annoying(ly cute) , fake dating? nah... fake married? bingo! , reader is so fed up with beomgyu how is he still alive , fluff , black cat x golden retriever dynamic ??? , hinted bisexual!beomgyu happy pride month , hinted pining , nsfw , some cliche moments bc who doesn't love a good cliche

the only exception | beomgyu x reader | 12k @byeomtori

love at first sight au, summer love thingy, lots of reference to paramore's the only exception and txt's our summer, pda

white dress | 3,8k @fairyyeo

Beomgyu encontra s/n e a chama pra sair depois do seu turno, motoqueiro

➵ sk8ter boi -> c.b | 4.5k @gyusrose

you never thought in a million years to be attracted to a boy like beomgyu. His baggy clothes, scrappy shoes, long hair just wasn’t a click with your elegant dresses, tight skirts, ballet dancer- self , but somehow he managed to steal your attention.

ditto / cbg | 3.5k @huenation

the day arrives where beomgyu, your angel, is leaving you, you realize you have nothing left to lose

FESTIVAL | 7.7k (I can't @ the author, but she is in the comments)

you thought this year's festival was going to be a bummer like last year's, until you found yourself stuck spending the three whole days of it with that pretty guitarist boy that caught your eye.

「 Camera Shy 」 | 14.4k @koqabear

“You’ve always tried to live an honest and responsible life; never spending money on anything ridiculous, scoffing at the things other people would be so willing to drop their paycheck on. But when life gets hard, you’re bound to give into your guilty pleasures, right?”

Hey Emo Boy! | 9.4k @koqabear

He worked at the Spencer’s store in the mall— you worked at the Claire’s store right in front. What can you say? Match made in heaven.

You Are My Queen Now | 194k @wildernessuntothemselves

Growing up as a child of a minor lord, you had it instilled in you since a young age that you needed to find yourself a rich and affluent husband that would not only provide a comfortable life for you, but would also help further your family’s position in the court. So it was of the utmost importance that you remain a virgin in order to land such a coveted husband.

The problem lies when the man you secretly love, Prince Beomgyu, suddenly and unabashedly propositions you.

Rare and Pure (cbg) | 21.5k @elix8r

“But to love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.“

- Patrick Rothfuss

Choi Yeonjun was the love of your life, the one you were unequivocally sure the Moon Goddess had chosen for you. His younger brother, Beomgyu, on the other hand, didn't even register on your radar as mate material. But fate, as it often does, had other plans. One night was all it took for your entire life to flip around as you found yourself accidentally mated to your childhood friend. Now, you're left grappling with the emotional wreckage of it all as you are not only struggling to feel the unbreakable connection that mates are supposed to share with Beomgyu, but you're also dealing with the harsh reality that your dreams of forever with Yeonjun will never come to fruition. It's a bitter pill to swallow, and it's forcing you to reevaluate your very sense of self. Your wolf clearly had some serious explaining to do.

idle town | c.bg + the city that never sleeps | c.bg

| 40k @petrichor-han

it’s always been beomgyu and (y/n), (y/n) and beomgyu. the two of them against the world... well, against the mean old cashier at the local grocery store anyways. (y/n) has always dreamed of leaving her small town and travelling the world, but beomgyu has always been more than comfortable in the only home he’s ever known. when (y/n) gets the option to finally live her dream and live in a big city hours away from their hometown, beomgyu has to choose between loving her and letting go.

brand new, full throttle! | 5.2k @hwangyu

beomgyu finds out you're the perfect way to get under his stepfathers skin.

모기 / MOGI — [c.bg]. | 14k @hannie-dul-set

in which all of your life, you and beomgyu have been stuck together like glue whether you liked it or not. and as much as you want to change that, life seems to have different plans.

Series

「 PRETTY PRINCESS 」 part IX ─ 'do you trust me?' @beomiracles

taking a wrong turn in the 4th dimension Beomgyu finds himself two centuries behind his own with no way back, though meeting a pretty princess like you, does not seem so wrong.

to know him is to love him, and i do | 9,8k @niningtori

you love beomgyu more than anything. you just wish he loved you, too. or you finally break up with beomgyu and move on, but as for him? maybe he's starting to realize too little too late.

#SoundCloud #Spotify #beomgyu #bamgyuuuu #txt beomgyu #beomie #baby bear #txt #beomgyu au #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fic

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crunchwrapsnoopy · 15 days ago

Text

Second Chances [Touya Todoroki x Reader]

˙⋆✮ That's So True ✮⋆˙

"Looking into big blue eyes. Did it just to hurt me, make me cry Smiling through it all, yeah, that's my life."

even villains deserve a lil redemption

Dabi x F. Reader

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

WC: 1398

I'm sat on my thrifted couch by the window as rain softly beats against the glass. I press play on the voicemail for what feels like the millionth time, the words already burned into my memory, but still, I can’t help myself. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe hearing it again will change something.

"Y/N, please come back. What I did was wrong, it’s been months... I can’t lose you. The league misses you, too. Toga won't shut her damn mouth about you. Fuck, I’m so drunk right now... I love you. I know I didn’t say it often, but—"

The sound of Shigaraki’s raspy voice cuts through, sharp and impatient. "What are you yapping about?" he snarls. "We’ve got shit to do, wrap it up."

Dabi’s voice stumbles back in, slurred. "Bye, Y/N. I have to get a new burner soon- I’ll try calling again. Fuck, I know you won’t pick up. You haven’t the last dozen times but I’ll try." The message ends with a quiet beep.

It’s been three months since that call. And by then, I’d already been gone for seven. Seven months since the night I left him—the night I left all of them behind. His betrayal, his lies... it was too much. It’s been almost a year since I stepped away from the league, from the chaos, from the life that almost consumed me and swallowed me whole. A year since I walked out and didn’t look back.

I’m lucky, though. So stupidly lucky. My quiet, lowkey role in the league made slipping away easy, there were no repercussions or police coming after me every time I stepped foot outside. I’ve kept off the radar, built a new life for myself—a quiet life. I work at a flower shop now, which is insanely different than working as a villain for Shigaraki and the League of Villains, and it smells a lot better too. I’ve even gotten myself a little apartment on the edge of town, cozy, with a window that overlooks a quiet street, and roommate, which is actually just a little calico kitty that I named Cupcakes.

I’ve found peace here. Real peace. But the voicemail keeps pulling at me like a thread that came loose on a favorite sweater, both painful circumstances. And no matter how hard I try to ignore it, I know Dabi’s voice will haunt me forever if I don't talk to him at least one more time, and attempt to get better closure than some shitty drunk voicemail.

I text Giran, the broker that supplies the league with everything, including burner phones. Dabi stopped calling recently, so I assumed he lost my number with the last burner, because knowing him, he wouldn't stop calling just to give me space.

Me: Hi Giran! It's Y/N, I know we haven't talked in a while, but I was wondering if you know Dabi's current burner phone #? 😇

He gets back to me almost immediately.

Giran: Y/N!! So good to hear from you, kid, thought you fell off the planet lmao. And yea I can send the number. Giran: ###-###-####

He sends me the number, and I dial it immediately, my hands trembling. After a few rings, Dabi picks up, his voice sounding annoyed. "Who’s this? And how’d you get this number?"

"Hey, uhm... it’s me, Y/N."

"Y/N?" His tone softens, a hint of surprise in his voice. "Didn’t think I’d hear from you tonight. What’s up?"

I hesitate for a moment before speaking. "I just wanted to talk... are you busy?" I can hear a lot of voices in the background—probably everyone from the League. "If you’re tied up, it’s fine. It’s nothing important."

"Never too busy for you, doll." His voice shifts, and I hear him step away from the noise, the background chatter fading as he walks off.

The noise in the background slowly fades as he steps away, and I imagine him walking down a hallway, his boots hitting the floor with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The sounds of his breathing and the soft hum of his movements are the only things I can hear now. It’s strange, this feeling of distance and closeness at the same time.

“Alright, I’m all yours,” Dabi says, his voice rough but clear now, like he’s giving me his full attention. “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

I swallow hard, staring at the rain outside, the droplets running down the glass, blurring everything in sight. My heart races in my chest, a million thoughts running through my head, none of them making sense. “I don’t know,” I admit, running a hand through my h/c hair. “I guess... I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Yeah, I figured that.” He lets out a soft chuckle, though it sounds a little strained. “You’ve been gone for a while. Thought you were never gonna reach out.”

“I didn’t think I would either,” I reply quietly. “But... I keep listening to that last voicemail you left. Over and over again. I just... I couldn’t stop myself.”

There’s another long pause, and I can almost hear the shift in his posture. Maybe he’s rubbing his face, or clenching his jaw. I wouldn’t be surprised. Dabi’s never been one for easy emotions. “Shit,” he mutters, sounding like he’s been through too much to deal with this. “I shouldn’t have left that message. I meant what I said but I wish I said it better, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

"It's okay. I liked it." I say softly.

"Really?" He asks, his voice almost in disbelief at me admitting that I enjoy his shitty drunk voicemail despite everything.

“Yeah,” I answer quietly, feeling the weight of the words settle between us. “It wasn't like you at all- guess the liquid courage helped a lil, huh?" I laugh dryly, "It was real sweet its own way. I could tell you meant it, even if you were drunk n didn’t know how to say it.”

Dabi’s silence on the other end feels heavier now. I can almost picture him—frowning, leaning against a wall, trying to collect himself. "Fuck," he mutters after a moment, voice low. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that. But... I'm glad you did."

“I’ve been avoiding it,” I admit, my fingers tightening around my phone. "Avoiding you, avoiding everything. But I can’t keep running forever."

Dabi lets out a long exhale, like a weight’s been lifted from his chest. "I get it. I know you had your reasons for leaving, and I don’t blame you for it. I fucked up." His voice drops a little. "But if I’m being honest... I’ve missed you, Y/N. More than I ever thought I would."

My heart skips a beat. It’s strange to hear him speak so plainly, without the usual sharpness in his voice. "I’ve missed you too," I whisper before I can stop myself. The confession catches me off guard, and I quickly add, "But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to just jump back into everything. Things are... complicated."

"I know," Dabi replies, quieter now, as if he’s absorbing my words. "I’m not asking you to. I’m just... saying that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere. If you want me to prove it, I’ll prove it."

There’s something in his voice now that feels different, a promise without needing the words. A subtle shift in how he speaks to me, less like the cocky villain and more like a person who’s afraid of losing something he doesn’t deserve.

I stare out the window at the rain, a tightness in my chest as I let the quiet wash over me. I know I can’t go back to the way things were, but maybe—just maybe—I can start a new chapter with him, one where we’re both trying, even if we don’t have all the answers.

“I don’t know how I feel yet,” I say finally, voice soft but steady. “But... maybe we can try again. Slowly.”

Dabi’s voice is quieter now, but there's an undeniable relief in it. "That’s all I need. A chance. We can take it slow."

I lean back against the couch, closing my eyes as I listen to the steady rain and his steady breathing on the other end of the line. For the first time in a long while, the knot in my chest begins to loosen. There’s no going back to what we were before, but maybe there’s still a chance for something else.

"Alright," I whisper, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "Let’s see where this goes."

𓂃ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ༄˖°𓂃ﾟ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ.

#dabi #boku no hero academia #mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #league of villains #shigaraki #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #lov x reader #lov mha #touya x reader

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as-is-above-so-below · 2 years ago

Text

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Knackered & Insatiable

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes warning: MDNI, mentions of violence and death (ofc), blood, SMUT Note: I cannot believe how much you guys LOVED Part 1!!! I've written three pieces in my life (check out my Ao3 for my other works lol) and none of them have ever gotten this much of a response. Thank you so much for your praise and overwhelming support, it really means a lot to me as a first-time writer :) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

Ghost swirled the drink in his glass before lifting his mask up just enough to sip his whiskey. The team had insisted on getting to know his wife before they returned to England and Ghost “stole her away forever”, as they’d put it. He knew damn well, now that she’d met everyone, there wasn’t a chance in Hell she would let that happen. And while he may put on a good show of being a grump about it, secretly, he was glad. It was almost nice to see her mingling with his frie–team over a few drinks (hers being a bottle of water) and a football (she would call it a “soccer ball”, but he digressed).

He watched Soap, Gaz, and Freyja bobbing around the open space, kicking the ball back and forth, occasionally playing keep away. Gaz slid at her in an attempt to knock the ball loose from her control, which she swiftly countered and danced around him, laughing maniacally as the man shouted at her in protest. His lips tugged at the corner in a grin, shaking his head lightly at her antics.

She’d dressed down into her standard t-shirt but kept her boots and uniform pants on, her hair tied back out of her face. Without her gear or outerwear, even her oversized shirt, her bump protruded slightly where the shirt tucked into her belt. He’d been told that every person carried differently; her bump was small, due in part to her exercise regimen. God, he’d missed her.

He’d even been gracious enough to allow her time to gossip with his teammates, spilling (some) details about their relationship. How they met (work), who made the first move (classified), how Simon proposed (he didn’t); so gracious that he let a few embarrassing remarks slip past his radar.

Just a few.

“Did you know he has stretch marks–”

He whistled through his teeth. “Oi, watch it,” he warned, jerking his hand in front of his neck as to say ‘cut it’.

“But the stretch marks, Si!”

Ghost’s eyes traced her movements, wild hands pointing at her thighs, hips, underarms, and knees. He chastised her with a warning sound, and the three huddled together in whispers, no doubt continuing to quietly discuss topics they shouldn’t. He had a feeling he would be seeing a lot more of his fellow soldiers outside of the base. They eventually continued their game again.

Price took a seat next to him on the bench. Ghost said nothing. “How far along are you now?”

He took a deep breath, calming himself. Bold of Price to ask about the child he willingly endangered. “Fourteen weeks.”

John’s head bobbed, and he leaned back against the building behind them with his arms crossed. “Still struggling with the morning sickness, I see?”

That much was obvious. “The doctor said it should clear up soon. Usually only lasts ‘til ‘bout now,” he explained, still not meeting his eyes, choosing to follow his wife.

Silence passed between the two, the chirps of native bugs and shenanigans from the team filling the air.

The weight of his upper body on his forearms became uncomfortable, and Ghost sat back too. He sighed through his nose, keeping his sight forward. “I didn’t ask you not to call her for this job as your Lieutenant. I asked as your friend.”

John hesitated, mulling over the fact as he carefully chose his next words. He didn’t come up with much. “I know. I’m sorry.” What else was there to say?

Nothing.

Ghost nodded once, satisfied, and threw back the remains of his drink. The most important thing was that she was okay now. He knew the Captain was desperate for another player on that mission, and he was confident Price wouldn’t do it again.

Price seemed to understand that he had been forgiven. “Want another?”

“Negative, sir. She’ll lose steam in a minute.”

Sure enough, as predicted, she gave up her game and relented the ball to Kyle. Soap cheered with his arms in the air, sloshing his beer a bit with the motion. Freyja looked over her shoulder at him and raised a brow, eyes shifting toward their building. He acknowledged her request as she wished the others a good night's rest, rising to follow her to bed. Ghost fell into step a few paces behind her when a sharp whistle caught his ear. He turned his shoulder to look, and saw Soap with his hand out, gripping an imaginary leash with his tongue out as Gaz walked ahead of him like a dog.

He flipped them off and continued behind her.

~*~

The minute they returned to his quarters, Freyja had thrown herself down onto the bed like a sack of potatoes, not even bothering to strip out of her uniform. Ghost took her idea and, in his uniform, carefully straddled her waist. He offered her each of his hands, and she immediately went to work removing his gloves, smiling warmly at him. She gingerly traced the outline of his lips through his mask, a questioning look in her eyes. He accepted and tilted his chin up, allowing her to slip under the edge of the mask, drawing it up and off his head, leaving him with just the black paint on his face. Freyja plopped it on the headboard above them with his gloves.

“There he is.” Her cheeks were warm and rosy from the dry heat of the area, and all of the jogging she did outside.

“Hi, sweethear’.”

She tugged him down by his blonde locks at the nape of his neck, capturing his lips in hers. He dropped his weight onto his forearms, keeping away from her belly while his lips moved slowly against hers. A month had passed since he saw her, let alone touched her. However, when she nipped fiercely at his bottom lip, pulling a soft moan from Simon–

“Love,” he groaned, forcing himself to break away, as much as it pained him. “I don’t have it in me right now. I’m absolutely knackered.”

Freyja turned up a brow at him. “Wow. I’ve never heard that one before. Are you okay?” she asked, rubbing her thumbs against his cheekbones.

His head leaned into her touch, melting in the palms of her hands. The effect she had on him was something he’d never experienced before and was what drew him to the soldier. Quick and cunning, skilled and strong, but also impossibly loving and soft and gentle. Nobody had ever shown him the kind of attention she did, and he found himself craving it when they would inevitably separate for deployment.

He didn’t want to argue with his wife again after not seeing each other for so long, but the pit in Simon’s chest wasn’t budging either. Simon sighed and turned his head, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I was serious when I said I’m pissed.”

“Simon, I know I shouldn’t have–”

“No, just– let me talk.” He brushed a loose hair from her forehead. “I…I don’t ask much of you. I asked – no, told you to do one thing. To stay home and protect our baby.”

Her brows pinched together, maintaining eye contact with him. “Simon, I can take care of myself,” she whispered, a bit confused.

“I know you can. I’ve seen you in the field, seen what you can do. You’re capable of slaughtering dozens of men at a time without breaking a sweat.” Simon rolled his shoulders to move off of her, laying on his back to stare at the ceiling. He rarely got so upset with her, if ever. Even rarer that he became a stuttering mess that couldn’t string a sentence together properly. He hated the feeling. “Why did you do tha’? What if you’d gotten hurt? What if someone comes after you when I’m not around? Wh–”

“Stop. You’re spiraling again.” Freyja turned onto her side, worried eyes studying his features. He’d picked up the habit since the pregnancy tests (seven of them to be exact) turned positive. “I–I know I messed up. I’m so, so sorry, Si. I didn’t…didn’t want to hurt you. I promise I won’t go out again. I just–” Her eyes watered, and she dragged the heel of her palm against the dampness on her cheek. “I’m h-having such a hard time. I love this baby, but I feel so–so useless just sitting at home.”

Oh, sweetheart… “Budge up,” Simon muttered, his voice gravelly as he tapped her thigh and scooched down a bit himself. His right arm slipped under her hip while the other tugged her shirt up to reveal their growing baby. Simon smiled softly at the sight and peppered kisses all over her bump. He eventually nuzzled into her chest and draped her leg over his hip before wrapping that arm around her waist. “I’m sorry I ‘aven’t been round. I know how much you miss work. But just look at this precious thing you’re making, Frey; you’re creating a whole person in there. My strong, drop-dead gorgeous wife and beautiful son–”

“Or daughter.”

Simon’s deep chuckle vibrated against her chest and belly, warmth blooming there. “Right. Or daughter,” he pressed another kiss to her chest. “You’re the strongest person I know. Just you watch. I’ll be home for a good long while now; we can work something out with Price, and get you some desk duty so you’re not sat at home twiddlin’ your thumbs all day. Keep you busy, yeah?”

Freyja nodded in agreement, smiling down at her husband. “Okay,” she croaked, sniffling a bit.

“Good. Now go to sleep, love. I really am knackered.”

“I love you, Simon.”

“I love you too, Frey.”

~*~

Soap rapped his knuckles against the door for his Lieutenant’s quarters after (again) failing to locate Captain Riley in hers. He waited for a breath and was about to knock again when he heard an affirming grunt from the other side of the door.

“Aye, if I see any naked bodies–” He poked his head into the room, finding the two tangled up in each other. Fully clothed, thankfully. He barely caught the bare strip of Simon’s cheek from his angle. He immediately piped down when he realized she was still sleeping. “Lieutenant?”

“Wot?” he grumbled, not moving from his comfortable position. Soft and warm.

John remained silent, eyes shifting between Simon and the sleeping body next to him.

“What do you need, Sergeant.”

“I don’t want to wake ‘er, sir,” he whispered in a hushed voice. He truly didn’t want to face the consequences of waking a pregnant Riley. He was, however, less worried about the wrath of his Lieutenant and more about his other half.

Simon turned his chin up slightly, focusing on her steady, soft breaths and even heartbeat. In the first weeks of her pregnancy, before leaving for deployment, she had taken to sleeping like a rock. Obviously, that fact was still true. He settled back into her t-shirt.

“She’s fine. Speak.”

Soap hesitated but took his word for it. “Ah, Captain said we’re good to go. Wheels up in thirty.”

He grunted again, still unmoving. ”Alright. We’ll be ready.”

He could sense the Scot still stuck in his doorway, continuing to disturb his peace, and his irritation grew. “Quit hoverin’, Johnny. I said we’ll be ready. Get out,” he all but growled.

“Sorry, sir.” Soap turned to leave but stopped himself. “Almost fo’got, wanted to give ya’s a warnin’, it’s pishin’ it doon out there.”

His patience had grown thin and irritability impossibly higher. “Speak. English.”

Soap’s mouth opened with a turned lip, just about to quip a snarky retort–

“It’s raining fuckin’ hard.”

His eyes blew wide, jaw dangled loosely, staring at the previously silent form the soft, sleepy voice came.

“Thank you, love.”

“I—How— Beg your pardon?” John stuttered, pointing between Freyja and Ghost in utter shock.

Her grip on her husband tightened with a groan, eyes fluttering as she tried to adjust to the morning light. “What? What did I do?” she mumbled, curving her back inward to stretch, her neck popping.

“But–I don’t– You know Scots?”

“Oh. I suppose. Cannae ge’ the accent righ’, though,” she said, exhibiting what was indeed her very poor attempt at a Scottish accent.

Still, he gawked at them, unmoving. He eventually snapped out of his reverie, a wicked smile creeping onto his face. “Jesus, I’m sorry Lt. but I think I’m gettin’ hard,” he teased, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth.

Simon blindly reached for the mask above his head, scooting up a bit for a quick kiss before slipping it on. The black war paint around his eyes remained, but more worn and smudged with sleep. The Sergeant Oooh’d in the background. “Johnny, what did I tell you ‘bout flirting wit’ my wife?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed in a sitting position.

Freyja followed him, sitting up and pressing her chest against Simon’s back. She wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her palms across his sternum and abdomen, fingers dipping into the ridges of his muscles. “Simon, you really shouldn’t make threats you don’t intend to keep,” she pressed her lips against the warm skin at the back of his neck. He hummed softly, leaning back into her.

“Who said I won’t?”

“Alright, alright, I’m not tryna cock-block,” Soap threw his hands up in defense, backing out of the doorway. “I’m goin’. Tarmac in thirty.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the couple alone again. Simon moved to stand but was immediately restricted by her arms and legs as she whined. “Can I help you?” he asked, settling back down and glancing at her over his shoulder.

Freyja rose to her knees and tugged at his shirt, untucking it from his waistband. “Maybe,” she said against the side of his throat. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you Simon,” her fingers pressed into his waist. She licked a stripe on his thrumming pulse before closing her mouth over the spot, sucking generously. Simon hissed through his teeth and dropped his head against her shoulder. “Or Ghost?”

“God, you are insatiable.”

“Only when you don’t give me what I want.”

“And wha’s that?”

“Been a while since you fucked me stupid, yeah?”

A deep growl tore from him, and he whipped around, pouncing on her. The balaclava and skull plate flew across the room. His lips crushed hers, teeth and tongues smashing together. Rough fingers wrapped around her throat, holding her down to the mattress as he leaned over her. “Your British is fuckin’ shit.”

“Mmm, what’re you gonna do about it?” she challenged, smirking against his mouth. She loved instigating him, even more so now that her hormones were through the roof. The last week at home had been almost unbearable.

Freyja’s eyelids flickered at the sudden pressure, not enough to cut off oxygen but enough to effectively shut her up. She felt her walls flutter at the sensation, a puddle forming in her underwear.

“Good girl,” Simon practically purred, dragging his lips down to the underside of her chin, nipping at the skin, followed by a soothing lick at the affected spot. His free hand crawled down her body, rising and falling over the various curves before stopping at her pants. “Is this what you want?”

She nodded vigorously, so he swiftly unfastened the fatigues and dove his hand in. “Mmm, so needy for me. I’ve barely even started, sweetheart,” he slipped two fingers through her soaked lips, sucking a bruise at her throat. He ground his aching bulge against the edge of the bed, searching for some relief. Simon swirled tight but lazy circles around her clit with her collected juices, getting a muffled moan. “Like that?”

“Mhm…”

“Use your words, Frey.”

“F-Fuck– Need you, Si, n-now.”

He cocked his head to the side, releasing her throat to unbutton and unzip his pants. “Already? I’m feelin’ a bit, peckish love. Not gonna let me have a taste?” He slid down to his knees, nibbling down over her t-shirt and pulling the zipper of her pants.

“NO!” She shouted, and his eyes shot up to hers with a brow quirked. “N-No, I need you to fuck me. Please, Simon,” she begged, her voice desperate.

“Fast and hard, eh? A’right.” Simon stood, then hooked his hands behind her knees, yanked her to the edge of the bed, and flipped her over, her feet firmly planted on the floor. “Careful,” he pressed softly against her bump, keeping her stomach off the bed.

The sniper growled at him, starting to get frustrated. “Simon, I swear to fucking God– Ah!” she squeaked when a much firmer hand shoved her face into the mattress.

“Naughty girl… I’m getting there. Be patient,” he ordered. He waited until she showed her understanding with another sharp nod. Simon finally pulled her pants and panties down to her knees. “Fuckin’ Hell,” he moaned, admiring the view as he dropped his pants enough to pull himself out, giving himself a few strokes. “Who’s this cunt belong to?” he asked, dragging the tip through her folds.

“You, it's all yours!”

Eager to please, Simon rested one palm on the small of her back as the other slowly eased himself into her. His head dropped back, unable to help the soft moans and whimpers at her walls around him. “F-fuck, never get sick of this sweet cunt,” he stilled himself in her when he bottomed out. “Not even in you for a second ‘n I already wanna cum.”

She pulled her hips forward, desperate for him to move and, as promised, fuck her senseless. Bruising fingers gripped the extra flesh at her hip with a groan. “Naughty,” he repeated, drawing out of her to the tip before diving back in just as slowly. “Maybe if ya beg some more, I’ll give it to ya.”

Freyja whined as his cock dragged painstakingly slowly along her insides. “P-please, please fuck me, Simon. I need your cock so bad. I’m desperate,” she begged, her hands shaking as she gripped the scratchy blanket under her with white knuckles. “Been w-waiting so long for you to come home, please!”

Simon twitched inside her, his wife’s begging scratching just the right spot in his brain. “Ngh, fuck Frey.” He slammed into her, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he started a steady pace.

“God, Simon, ‘s so good–”

“Look at me,” he said, turning her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Say it again…My name.”

Her smirk almost immediately wiped off her face when he brushed her clit again, eliciting another breathy, gasped moan. “Simon!”

“Mmm, again.”

“S-Simon…fuck!”

“Cum for me, love, cum on my cock. Wanna feel you–”

She stared into his eyes, the sounds of his hips slapping her hips, the wet sounds of her sex thrumming between them, and her heavy pants thrumming between them until she finally pulsed around him, her pitch kicking up an octave. “Ah, Simon, I-I’m cumming, fuck!”

“Jesus fuck–! Y/N, Y/N,” he whined, choking on her name as the tight coil inside him snapped and spilled into her, his hips stuttering. Simon’s chest rested against her back when he dropped his hand next to her for support. He stilled, echoing her name over and over while he pumped her full of his cum. She was grinning back at him over her shoulder and dragging her nails up and down his forearm, humming at the warm pool inside her.

Simon slid his free hand under the back of her shirt, stroking between her shoulder blades. They stood unmoving, panting, staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity. His spend was starting to creep out around him, turning into milky drops threatening to break free and fall to the floor. He could stay like that forever, her gaze holding his as he warmed his cock in her–

“Hey Ghost–”

THUNK

The tip of a black combat knife sank into the soft wood of the door frame, a breath away from his nose. Kyle stopped short of passing through the threshold, the door only open a crack. “Bad time, got it,” he said, his voice cracking a bit before the door clicked shut again. “Sorry!” his voice muffled by the door between them before his footsteps scurried away.

Freyja giggled and pressed her face into the mattress, attempting to stifle her laughter.

“Not funny.”

“Really? I thought it was a little bit funny, Lieutenant,” she said, wiggling her hips against his. Simon’s breath hitched, and both hands shot back to stop the movement.

“Ey, none’a that. Be a good girl or you won’t be getting a thing out of me later,” he threatened, raising a blonde brow in challenge. She pouted up at him in return but nodded with a disgruntled Fine, slowly leaning forward until he popped out of her with a groan. The woman eased herself up until she stood fully and turned to face him, standing on her tiptoes to reward him with a sweet, lazy kiss. When Simon was least expecting, she swiped a finger along his dick, causing him to jerk at his sensitivity, collecting their mixed fluids before popping the digit into her mouth. “You’re a minx, y’know that?”

“Mhm.”

“Hn.” He pulled her panties and underwear back up for her, fingers lovingly caressing their growing baby when he went to button them again. He wasn’t proud to admit that he hadn’t reacted well to the initial news of his wife’s pregnancy. Simon had never wanted children or a family before her, given his experiences with his own as a child. The last thing he wanted was to turn out like his father, an abusive, mean drunk with a violent streak and an inclination for scaring the pants off little Simon.

That all changed at their first ultrasound. The soft thrum of the baby’s heartbeat echoed off the walls of the small room and burned into his mind on a constant playback. His baby. Their baby.

Mine.

He supposed the second-trimester hormones were a nice touch, too.

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @lethalchiralium, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy

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galvanizedfriend · 9 months ago

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Klaroline Fanfiction Masterlist

It's been a minute since I last updated my masterlist so I decided to go ahead and start a new one. Yokan // ▪ Multi-chapters

. The Wolf Series [I, II, III and Outtakes - Incomplete] When Caroline wakes up shackled, powerless and very far away from Mystic Falls, she knows she's in serious trouble. But when a woman named Sophie Deveraux reveals the reason why she's been kidnapped and taken to New Orleans, she realizes things are far worse than she could've ever imagined.

[The Originals rewriting where Caroline is a witch and gets pregnant with Klaus' child. Seasons 1, 2 and 3 complete, season 4 coming.]

. Vice and Virtue [6/6 - Complete] As the second son of a Duke, Klaus Mikaelson has the means and all the time in the world to indulge in every manner of wild activity with very little respect for the regiment of polite society. That is until his brother decides he's had enough of his vulgar ways and gives him an ultimatum. Caroline Forbes is a young debutante in search of true love and adventure. Except her aunt wishes for her to marry a somber Viscount who's already buried three wives. When their paths cross, they realize they might yet strike a deal that could satisfy their relatives and benefit them both.

[AH Regency!AU inspired by Bridgerton and a dozen other period novels I have been reading lately.]

. Pedulum [2/2 - Complete] This is what Klaus Mikaelson knows: death isn't the end for him. From the moment he is brought into the world to his final shuddering breath, Klaus' life is pretty much the same as everyone else's. The difference lies in what happens after he dies: he goes right back to the beginning, a child in London with the memory of dozens of lives lived before. Nothing ever really changes, including the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he can never save Caroline Forbes' life for too long.

[AH/soulmates!AU with a slight magical twist. Technically a one-shot, chapter 2 is just an alternate ending.]

. We'll Always Have New Orleans [3/15 - Incomplete] Caroline wakes up in a world where everything looks exactly the same, only nothing really is. For starters, she's no longer a vampire, and no one else in Mystic Falls has ever heard of witches, vampires or werewolves - no one except for Klaus, who woke up just as human and twice as angry about it. Their search for answers and a way out takes them all the way to New Orleans, and Caroline could never anticipate how much this crazy fake world was about to alter her reality forever.

[Canon-divergence!AU. Set right after TVD 4x18.]

. Speed Dating [3/4 - Incomplete] Klaus is having a bad month, so Caroline decides it's a great idea to drag him along to a round of Speed Dating. Other men in the room do not approve.

AH/AU fluff that was inspired by an episode of House (yes, it is fluff, I promise).

. Gasoline [2/2 - Complete] "He doesn't apologize, of course he doesn't. He doesn't care. He calls everyone love. It's not meant to mean anything. Except it did, once, and it makes Caroline's stomach churn away inside, as she feels Klaus crawling underneath her skin like he never left at all. I've still got you."

AH/Band!AU. Two years after Klaus walked out on his band - on her -, Caroline finds herself in her least favorite place on earth - New Orleans. She really did try to stay away from him, escaping an event just to keep off his radar. He finds her anyway.

. Like It's Christmas Again [2/2 - Complete] As Christmas approaches, Caroline Forbes, a New York-based event planner, is sent to a quaint small town in Virginia to organize their holiday festival. But her plans are momentarily hindered by the presence of Klaus Mikaelson, the Mayor's brother and a grumpy billionaire lacking in any holiday spirit, who's in town to close the sale of his family's manor - the charming estate she was hoping to use as a venue.

[AKA that time when I committed Christmas fic. AU/AH inspired by a Hallmark movie, I kid you not.]

. Spin [5/5 - Complete] Since she was seven years old, Caroline Forbes has been preparing herself to become President of the United States. But before she gets to the Oval Office, she needs to win the election for senior student president at the prestigious Saint Sebastian High - which would be in the bag if only goddamn Klaus Mikaelson hadn't decided to run against her.

[AH/AU lovers-to rivals-to-lovers The Politician!AU where everyone takes school elections way more seriously than they should.]

. How Far I'd Go [2/2 - Complete for now] Set in TVD S6/TO S2. Unable to control Caroline after she turns her humanity off, Stefan reaches out to the only person he can think of for help.

[Slices of moments of Klaus in Mystic Falls while Caroline has her humanity off.] ▪ One-shots

. The Sound of Settling Klaus hates his job at Mikaelson & Sons. He hates wearing a suit. He also hates his brothers constantly butting into his life. Everything will be better once he gets his much desired transfer to the New York branch. Caroline Forbes is the owner of Mystic Café, and when Klaus accidentally wanders into her coffee shop, his whole perspective changes. [AH/Coffee Shop!AU where Klaus is a lawyer. Fluffity Fluff. Lots of Mikaelsons and some Carenzo friendship.] . The Witch Queen Caroline always knew she was different. She was keyed into her own otherness very early on. Strange things happened around the Forbes women. Her mother never really had to spell it out to her, give it a name. Caroline could always sort of feel it, and then at some point the feeling blossomed into comprehension, and comprehension hardened into fact. And with that came an altogether different kind of certainty: this was not a secret she'd be able to keep forever. One day, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, everyone would find out. And when they did, they would come for her.

. Worst Things Have Happened Klaus Mikaelson is a prince with a very dark secret that threatens to destroy his family's legacy. Caroline Forbes is a sorceress whose job is to make sure his secret remains buried. But would it hurt him to put some clothes on? [Royal!AU, with a magical twist.] . The Unexpected Grace of Falling Apart The whole incident was bound to go down as a funny anecdote to be shared among friends, a Oh, you think you've had the worst hook-up ever? Hold my beer kind of story. Provided, of course, that she never had to see him ever and could just wipe him out of her life and memory for good. Given that they live in different time zones, it shouldn't be too much of a hassle.

That is precisely why Caroline is livid when she emerges from the arrivals area at Richmond airport to find Douchebag, in the flesh - sunglasses indoors and all, like the proper jerk that he is - holding up a sign that readsClarisse.

[AH/AU. It's Tyler's wedding weekend and Caroline is back in Mystic Falls for the first time after the most traumatic and depressing year of her life. And it's about to get even worse as she's made to share breathing space with Klaus, The Worst Guy Ever. Except they might have to join forces to save the wedding, and to the discovery that things might not be what the seem. As Caroline teeters on the edge of a breakdown she'd been trying very hard to conceal, an unexpected savior appears to help her through the haze.]

. love, the monster's got me now [Canon compliant. Set in TVD S03E09 Homecoming.]

"Don't run," he says calmly, sounding almost bored, but with a clear warning. "I'm in the mood for a chase. Little spoiler: you can't outrun me." His eyebrows twitch up when he finally turns around to face her, lips curling into an amused grin. "Tyler's girl," he states, gesturing towards the now empty yard. "You missed out on the celebrations, I’m afraid."

[Or: the missing Klaroline scene between "There's your pretty little girlfriend, Caroline" and "There's a whole world out there waiting for you." Klaus and Caroline meet after Homecoming.]

. When It's Gone Suddenly, Caroline hates how nice the bed feels. How soft the pillows are. How smooth and cool and expensive those goddamn sheets are against her skin. She hates the giddiness in her belly, like she's a stupid schoolgirl when she's not allowed to be one anymore. She hates how right the space between Klaus' arms felt, how easily she molded against him. His lips were as full and as soft as they looked, but his hands were gentler and more reverent than they had any right to be, and Caroline hates it. Hates it, hates it, hates it. She hates that it suits her, hates that she wants it, hates that none of it is hers to keep.

[Set after TVD S04E19 Pictures of You. Caroline hears about Klaus' impending departure after a mysterious letter and decides to have some words.] . Wishing Each Sigh Might Be the Last The first time she sees him, Caroline thinks he's an angel.

[Set in 1800s New Orleans. As Caroline lies dying, she prays for God to send help or end her torment and save her soul. She thinks an angel has come for her. But he's no angel at all.] . Feel the Madness Closing In Set in TO S3. Caroline is in New Orleans when Lucien and the Ancestors make a move against the Mikaelson family - and they know exactly who to target in order to get to Klaus. Paranoia sets in, sending him to a very dark place, and Caroline finally learns the price of being loved so profoundly by a monster. . Issues When Klaus' Hollywood career takes a down turn after a nasty divorce and a viral mug shot, his manager decides his life is not yet miserable enough, bringing in a PR company famous for its high-profile damage control cases.

[AH!AU where Klaus is a problematic movie star and Caroline is a PR agent with no time for his BS.] . Urban Legend "I hate myself for saying this, but I have to agree with Little Miss Sunshine," Caroline cuts in. "This is Whitmore. Nothing ever happens here. Least of all a possession that leads to a massacre of slasher movie proportions."

"Thank you, love," Klaus returns brightly. "Very flattering to be validated by you."

"Bite me, Klaus."

"Find me later, after my shift, and we can see to it," comes the shameless rejoinder.

[Or: Caroline tries to navigate life in college having the worst roommate ever, a douchebag who cannot take a hint and a nosy journalist whom she's definitely not attracted to. Never in a million years.]

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #klaroline fic #kc fanfiction #kcfic #kc fandom #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #the originals rewriting #the vampire diaries fanfiction #yokan writes #masterlist

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poorwritingandstalecoffee · 10 months ago

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don't let me go

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader

Summary: Y/n gets a concussion in the field but thinks nothing of the headache and later ends up in the hospital with a worrysick Emily.

Notes:

It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written fanfiction so if I’m rusty, just bear with me okay, and hopefully the burst of inspiration with last long enough me for to get back into the flow of things.

* Part 2 will be the ending probably.

Rating: 16+

Warnings: mentions of dizziness, headache pain, nightmare, and a very sad Emily (not forever though)

Word count: 1,638

It was supposed to be a regular Tuesday. That’s all.

You hadn’t intended any for this. The pain, the darkness, the silent, deadly suspension between life and death. The cold isolation from everything and everyone you loved—from her.

It just was supposed to be a regular fucking Tuesday. Where did it go wrong?

You couldn’t catch your breath; your lungs were on fire and pumping over time from the relentless running, running, running. Sweat matted the hair to your forehead and neck while your ponytail lashed at the wind and your arms and legs muscles screamed from the exertion. You didn’t feel it, though, not with the adrenaline and anger coursing through your bloodstream and the news that a 7-year-old girl’s life was hanging by a thread in a hospital bed and five more lay dead in the morgue because of the motherfucker.

You couldn’t stop. You knew if you did, he would disappear from your radar only to pop up 2-3 years later with the flashing headlines of another murder taunting and screaming at you from a pixelated screen for letting him get away.

So you kept running and running and running. Down street after street, Derek and Emily running perpendicular to you, and the rest of the team split into two cars coming from other directions.

Hotch was giving you orders, and the comms line was buzzing with information from the rest of the team as they tried to predict which direction he would turn next.

But you didn’t hear any of it; it was all white noise, with your surroundings blurring into flashing colors. You were the closest to him. So close you could nearly reach out and touch his shirt collar. So you gritted your teeth into near pain and pushed your tired limbs to go just a little farther, just a little faster.

Your lungs screamed because you hardly had any breath left to give, but you didn’t care—you nearly had him dammit.

Just. A. Little. Farther. And at the last second, without even thinking of it, without feeling a thing… you jumped. Careening toward him, clasping around his torso with an iron grip, you sent both yourself and the unsub flying in a mass of limbs through the street.

Your body smashed against the gravel and rolled with your head slamming into the concrete…but you never let go because you had him dammit. And you didn’t feel a thing.

“Y/n!!”

“Y/n! Hey, wake up!”

You jolted awake and flinched away from the warm hand on your already burning body. You couldn’t see a damn thing in the dark, and the air wasn’t reaching your lungs because part of your exhausted mind thought you were still back there—in the dream that wasn’t a dream but a faster and more truthfully terrifying version of the reality you faced the day before.

The sheets were becoming twisting, confining vines around your legs. You still couldn’t breathe right, and the shadows in your room were morphing into ghouls and demons that only caused the sweat on your body to run cold with quickening fear.

Just as you were making up your mind to run, a light flicked on, and a familiar face came into your hazy vision.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s me, it’s Emily.”

Briefly, you looked at her with trepidation before your mind finally caught up with you, and your crumpled look of fear and confusion relaxed.

“Em.” Sighing, you fell back into your sweat-soaked pillow and closed your eyes while the first breath since waking up eased into your tired lungs.

Emily lightly brushed the matted hair from your forehead and looked at you with concern and solemnity. Because she knew this would come, had learned to expect it not just with you but herself also. After years of fighting the flesh and blood monsters, the imaginary ones would come to take their place until those two could be conquered.

“Deep breaths, angel. That one was rough,” she said while rubbing your arm gently. She would never admit it to you, but it scared her to see you like this.

Your eyes were still closed to try and stop your vision from spinning, but you could hear the soft tremor in her voice. “Hmm, oh, I don’t know. I give it a 4—you pulled me out of it pretty quickly, huh?”

“You still haven’t caught your breath, though, nor opened your eyes.”

At that you did look at her. Slowly, you let your eyes wander over her face: the telltale wrinkle of worry between her brows, the adorable bed hair that she would never stop arguing with you about how it is, in fact, not cute; the soft, flushed cheeks that you can’t help but want to kiss every second of the day; those completely kissable lips that are pressed into a frown; and finally, the endlessly beautiful dark brown eyes that could hold a thousand emotions at once and whose depths you could happily become transfixed by and lost in for eternity.

You looked at her with a familiar comfort and love that is as old as time itself. The kind of love that could cross time and space to reach two people who will continually find one another in every lifetime, in every universe.

“I’m okay, Em. I’m here with you, so I’m okay.” You reached for her hand, kissed her palm, and placed it against your chest so she could feel for herself.

Emily laid back down next to you and let her hand feel the steadying of your heartbeat. Moving her eyes over the plains of your face, she still marveled at how beautiful, strong, and human you were. After nearly two years together, she still was amazed at how much she loved you, at how you could continually make her feel like the most important person in the entire world, at how alive and human you could make her feel after years of feeling numb and cold to the world because of her demons.

“You’re okay. We’re both okay,” she said quietly. Without taking her eyes off of you, she turned off the lamp and pulled you closer to her.

“I’m still sweaty–”

“I don’t care. Let me hold you, please.”

“Okay, Em.”

She could feel you smiling against her neck, and she kissed the top of your head before burying her nose in your hair. Sighing in relief, she let herself be lulled back asleep by your soft breathing, because you were okay.

Right?

Later that morning.

“I still think you should go in—at least to get some stronger painkillers than fucking ibuprofen.”

“Emily, I’m fine,” you sighed in exasperation. You knew her worrying would only increase; it always does for either of you when something like this happens. “I got checked out yesterday, remember? And the headache will pass. It went away yesterday, and it’s going to go away today. Just give the pills time to work.”

You could see your words weren’t getting through to her with the way she was watching you like you would drop dead right in front of her. Her fingers were fidgeting already, and you knew she was fighting with herself not to start biting them.

Grabbing her hand, you rubbed soothing circles into her palm. “If it gets worse, I’ll tell you and will go, kay?”

Emily stared at you for five more seconds, letting the colors of your eyes, the feeling of your hand in hers, and your soft smile ease the stuttering, painful feeling in her chest before giving in. She pulled you back into her embrace, leaned back into the couch with you, and exhaled into your shoulder. “Okay…”

Five, ten, fifteen minutes into the movie that was playing, you could still feel her eyes on you—watching you for any signs of pain or discomfort. And to be honest, you could feel the headache creeping into unbearability and part of you hated both the headache and your body for falling out of your control.

The stabbing pain escalated to explosions across the back of your brain, the characters on the TV blurred in your failing vision, and you could feel the dizziness slowly clouding your senses.

“Alright, fine, let’s go.”

Emily’s breath hitched because you are always an inch more stubborn than she is, and if you're giving in, then it’s real this time, and no matter how many times you get hurt during a case, she will never be ready for it.

Slowly exhaling, she whispered, “I’ll get the keys and let the hospital know we’re coming,” because to say it any louder is like solidifying your pain into reality.

She lightly kissed your forehead and went to the kitchen to call the closest ER. You could hear her talking in the other room, and even that was becoming increasingly unbearable as the headache worsened.

Breathing in unsteady but measured breaths, you slowly stood and walked to the foyer where your shoes were, and just as Emily came out of the kitchen, you glanced up at her, and time slowed.

The explosive headache pain swallowed your mind, and black dots sporadically burst into your vision. You could feel the strength leaving your muscles, the sound of her voice escaping your ears, and for the first time since waking from your nightmare earlier that morning, you were terrified again. Your body felt so weightless and heavy at the same time—like you might fall through the floor or float up into space without a single tether to your life with Emily.

Slowly, you watched your hand limply reach out to her before the growing black dots finally swallowed your vision, and the last thing you saw was the look of terror on Emily’s face as she dropped her phone, screamed something you couldn’t hear, and ran to catch your body before it fell to the floor.

#michelle's works #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 8 days ago

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Random thought I just had in my hospital bed, but what if Alice had immediately called Rosalie/the Cullens after seeing Bella is alive? And then continued to talk to Bella?

Which scenario are we in?

We're in the "Edward gets really really really pissed because no one does what he wanted and EVERYONE IS RUINING EVERYTHING!!!"

But Let's Back it Up

Before Rosalie has a chance to call Edward?

Rosalie goes "ugh" and is very pissed off that Bella is still somehow causing their family a bunch of drama over nothing, that Alice apparently has false positives now about people fucking dying, and is so done with this bullshit.

But Edward is not told that "Bella is dead, come home and stop this".

However, the Cullens don't get to sit on their hands too long as, "news, everybody!" it turns out Victoria has been picking off people in the Forks area, held out by teenage shapeshifters, to get to Bella so that she can kill Edward's mate as a part of her revenge for the death of James.

Remember Laurent? The guy Irina's stupid in love with? He was one of them!

And wow, it sure seems like this is kind of the Cullen's fault for refusing to keep even small tabs on the town/Bella because Edward was so determined to be a dramatic diva and tear himself out of her life.

I imagine the Cullens (sans Edward, he's still moping in Rio) have a meeting and while it's going to be a tough call (Rosalie wants nothing to do with this, Jasper is torn as he wants Victoria dealt with but also doesn't want to put Alice back on her radar) ultimately I think they'd vote to go back to Forks for as long as it takes to deal with this problem.

And erm, we'll see about Bella (there's no Volturi 'thou shalt' yet nor Edward's attempted suicide, so it's not as dire as it was canonically).

The question is...

Do they tell Edward? On the one hand, he'll be pissed if he finds out they went behind his back because his lady love/Forks was in danger. He'd be beyond pissed, he'd feel betrayed on an unheard of level.

On the other hand, Edward will throw a massive fit (much like the one he threw to get them out of Forks in the first place), and when he realizes his "leave Bella" plan has had unintended side effects, that placed Bella in even more danger... a) he'll despise himself which is the last thing Edward needs b) who knows what the fuck he'll do in response to this.

There's a very tempting option here where, maybe, they can take care of things quickly enough in Forks that Edward never even realizes they went back.

This is an even more heated debate, and I imagine it's very 50/50 and "... Alice, er, how does he take it?"

Ultimately, they probably decide to tell him. He has to know what's happened, they can't keep this secret forever, and he deserved to know exactly what has happened, both the good and the bad.

Rosalie does not get to tell Edward, as that's a very bad idea, and I imagine Carlisle gets to tell him.

And so, Edward gets a phone call in Rio telling him "you done fucked up, son", not only that, but remember how he was chasing Victoria and he pathetically lost her in Mexico and kept going south for some reason until he landed in Rio? Yeah, she went all the way back to Forks where she's been trying to eat Bella this entire time.

Laurent nearly did.

And the only people protecting her are those temperamental shapeshifters who it turns out are back in full force.

And so, Edward loses his goddamn mind.

Edward: The Eclipsining

Edward comes racing back and acts similar to how he did in Eclipse. The carpet was pulled out from under him, this Jacob Black character has moved in on his territory in a way Edward did not expect for all he thought he wanted Bella to move on. Worse, Bella's in even more danger than before, has picked up very dangerous habits, and now he has to crawl back into her good graces.

Trouble is, Edward also hasn't quite been convinced that he can't live without her yet/he would have broken eventually. He knows he was having a shit time in Rio, but he didn't have that moment of her death where he concluded there was no purpose to his life anymore. Oh, he still plans to nobly kill himself when she dies, but he sincerely thinks he can leave her alone, she can live her human life, and he'll kill himself off screen.

It's just... when he leaves her alone she doesn't live that idyllic human life he wants her to.

If Bella puts it to a vote, I imagine she'll still win as Carlisle will probably side with the majority, even though there's no threat of execution/Edward's imminent suicide on the table. In which case Edward smashes the Korean TV, but I'm not sure would ask for marriage.

He wants to marry Bella, but he also doesn't want her to commit her precious human life to him/he still wants to extract himself. I imagine Edward would plan to be with her in the short term, so that the family doesn't go and turn her, but is always looking for Bella to a) change her mind about turning into a vampire b) extract himself from the situation.

And Jacob Black would be great for that. In fact, while Edward fucking hates him at first, he proves himself a worthy advisory, he's brave and noble, and Bella clearly cares deeply for him.

... Edward is suddenly Team Jacob.

Edward deep down is Team Edward, but he can't be Team Edward, because he has to leave Bella as soon as possible without turning into a vampire. But Team Jacob means Team Human means that Bella won't asked to be turned and will live a normal human life... with a shapeshifter but at least he'll be able to protect her.

I imagine Jacob has very little idea what to make of Edward. He hated this guy, still hates him but why is Edward saying, "Yes, Jacob, we must make you as appealing to Bella as possible". And leaving them alone together, on purpose, so that Jacob will have opportunities.

Jacob... doesn't want to think about weird vampires being weird.

But it all ends up being moot point.

The Volturi

Due to the lack of Volturi meeting, I imagine the Volturi do come to Seattle much faster to wipe out the vampires. If they do, and they do stop in on the Cullens just to see what's happening, then depending who visits they will find out about Bella.

And, "hm, are you turning her anytime soon?" It's clear she's very gifted, so most likely death is off the table (Jane wasn't there by herself canonically, she doesn't get to call all the shots). So, probably they're looking to take Bella back to the mothership.

Depending who's there, Bella is turned immediately. If it's Aro... he may be persuaded by Alice as he was in canon, to let it happen on its own time, or he may turn her ther himself because these people clearly aren't going to and "she should join the guard".

But most likely, Bella gets turned and kidnapped to Italy for at least a year while she's in her newborn phase. After which she's 'free to go', if she still wants to after Chelsea of course.

After that...

Well.

A lot of bloody nonsense.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #edward cullen #bella swan #the cullens #meta #headcanon #opinion

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oathkeeperoxas · 10 months ago

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Hello, my friend! 44 or 71 for Icemav, if you're still warming up? <3<3<3

ELWEN yesssss going wild for this one. Forehead press my number 1, you will always be famous to me

71. lingering forehead against forehead, consumed by each other and barely having enough strength to breathe

The call comes at 6:43pm.

Ice lets it ring for three trills, still in that limbo of not knowing. Dead, or not dead? And the less important question of if the mission was a success or not. These two things are not related to each other. A successful mission could still mean a dead pilot. If that's the case, then he's already living in a world without Maverick Mitchell. If that's the case, then he has five more seconds of not knowing about it, before the knowledge sinks its teeth into him, inescapable.

He picks the phone up. He's has a lifetime of doing the hard work, making the terrible choices that no one else wants to make. He can't avoid this forever, and he wouldn't want to, so he puts the phone to his ear and listens, and when he puts it down he has to lean his elbows onto his desk, face in his hands. Gut swooping like he's just pulled an emergency barrel roll and hadn't had the chance to prepare for it. Sick, like he's grown so used to over his treatment, sick, like he's really going to throw up. But he's had a lot of practice with this too, so he swallows it all down neatly enough. There's still work to do, maybe more work, now that they'll have to switch to soothing Russia's ruffled feathers at having their sovereignty impinged upon. Mav and Bradley won't be back in the country for another day at least. He has plenty to do to fill the time until then.

The seconds tick past, and the minutes dribble through his fingers, and the hour hand on his watch inevitably ticks forward. He gets into a shouting match with the SECDEF and is called into conference with the JCS and watches as updates on the pilots who flew the mission trickle into his inbox. Mav's medical report is last, which means he only nibbles on dinner, a bad habit that Mav would scold him for. Ice would take it, would take any words from him, as long as he he here to speak them.

He works through the night and gets to sleep somewhere about quarter to five, and is back at his computer before ten. Mav's report has come in, and while it doesn't look great, it's not all bad news. He's walking under his own power, and while injured, apparently isn't in too much pain. Ice holds his own reservations about that. Mav's never enjoyed telling an authority figure everything. Ice will get the truth out of him when they see each other next.

All the pilots are in flight back to North Island, which means they're out of contact even if Ice wanted to reach out, which he doesn't. This isn't the first time that Mav has been on a mission and Ice has been able to do nothing but wait for him to come home. He prefers to wait to see Mav in person before they talk to each other. It's better that way.

He fends off orders to fly to Washington, at least delaying until tomorrow or the day after, and makes up for it by sitting on conferences all afternoon while typing away furiously at the dozens of emails that have landed in his inbox. Everything is a flurry of activity, everything needs his attention now, and yet he puts everything aside when he sees that the transport has landed at North Island, and that all the pilots have been taken for debriefing, except for the two who spent time on the ground, who have been shuttled to the base hospital. Ice packs up his laptop and notifies his driver, and is on the road immediately.

He's not in uniform, so manages to fly mostly under the radar until he hits the two Marines standing guard outside Mav's hospital room, who only give way when they recognise him. Ice bids them to wait outside, and closes the door behind him when he enters. There's a curtain that's hiding most of Mav from his sight; the only part of him that Ice can see are his feet, which are bare. His toes are poking out from the side of the blanket that Mav has thrown over him, and Ice is hit with a wave of emotion that's as irrational as it is powerful -- Mav's feet are uninjured. His toes are okay. He can see that. It makes it hard to breathe, and he steadies himself before stepping forward, not wanting to cough and worry his partner. This is not a moment for Mav to be worried about Ice.

"Did you bring me some real clothes?" Mav grumbles. "I'm not wearing this. This is an attack on decency. I'm fine. I don't need to be here. Who do I have to speak to, to go home?"

Ice closes his eyes and musters himself after that volley. Then he moves forward under full sail, to stand at the end of Mav's bed and lay a hand on his ankle.

"I didn't bring you any clothes," Ice rumbles, voice hoarse from all the speaking he's been putting it through today. "And you can come home when the doctors say you can leave."

"Ice," Mav says, eyes wide, and Ice can't stay away from him anymore. Mav is already struggling to sit up, and Ice sits on the bed and ropes his arms around him, lashing them together. Mav makes a low sound, torn somewhere from deep in his chest, and presses their heads against each other. Ice tilts them so their foreheads are together, noses and mouths close, breathing the same air. "Ice," Mav repeats, desperate, and Ice wants to squeeze him and never let him go for scaring Ice so badly, for coming to him in the first place and asking to do this, for daring to get shot down and for making Ice receive the news that he's dead, only to be told that he'd pulled off the impossible--

Ice presses a palm to Mav's neck to feel his pulse, and they're both gasping against each other, clinging like they're at sea and the other is their lifeboat. Like lovers to be parted on the morrow. Like they'll never get another day quite like this one.

"You scared the shit out of me," Ice manages, and Mav barks a laugh through his tears.

"You're telling me," Mav manages, cupping a hand on Ice's cheek and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. "I was pretty scared myself."

"The kid?" Ice asks.

"He's better than me. Young bones, and all that."

Ice can hardly breathe. He pulls away to clear his throat, and then comes back to lay his head on Mav's shoulder and press his face into Mav's throat. Mav's hand rests on the back of his neck. There's still so much to do. Ice can feel the weight of his emails piling up in his inbox. But he can put off making the hard decisions for an hour. He can let himself be human for an hour. Mav's arms have the power to protect him. He hasn't lost that privilege. He hasn't lost Mav.

"If you think I'm letting you do anything like that ever again--"

Mav laughs. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I used that one favour up. Won't happen again. We're even now -- how about we don't do that to each other again, yeah?"

It's good he's sitting down. The dizzying relief would have forced him to anyway. He lays a kiss over Mav's pulse.

"I don't think cancer and flying into a deathtrap are particularly equivalent," Ice grits out. "But I'm willing to overlook that if you are."

Mav cradles him gently, laying kisses against his crown. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Ice sighs and sits up. "Are you okay?" he asks. "I know you've been lying to try and get out of here faster."

Mav sniffs, pretending to be offended. "They're not falling for it," he says plaintively.

"Good. Start telling them how you really feel. I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon."

"Yeah?" Mav asks, looking up at him.

"Yeah," Ice says softly. "Gotta keep an eye on my troublemakers."

Mav's eyes crinkle into his familiar smile, and Ice is home, home, home.

A hundred different kisses prompt list

#cyclone is keeping everyone inside today so writing time #icemav #iceman #maverick #top gun #tg #mine #my writing #forehead to forehead really be my number 1 weakness and yes i blame robin hobb for it

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papiliovolens · 2 days ago

Text

Spoilers for up to Ch. 20

This drabble was written as an exploration for Nightmare's motives for Ch. 25, so it will have some hints as to how he will act.

it also hints at more multiversal mechanics going on in the background of everything

This is a glimpse at his interpretation and first impressions of Classic, courtesy of an evil overlord who thinks he knows everything :)

this also became a lot longer than i was expecting, so enjoy 1000 words of nightmare being nightmare

The multiverse was nothing if not predictable.

Regardless of its infinite multitudes, it followed specific patterns. Universes fed off nearby ones to fuel their creativity, forming clusters whose links became jumbled in a heated mess of wired connections. The universes' influences on each other were palpable.

Ultimately, universes could dissolve into basic templates through which each spread its roots into the larger multiverse to cement a place for itself. Thus, despite the multiverse's infinitude, it lacked any carbon copies.

It seemed everyone had a different idea as to why.

So, Nightmare relied on the patterns in each universe- how, regardless of their separation from other universes or how out-of-place they seemed, they acted in predictable manners. It made most missions comically easy once Nightmare conducted a little research. The current state of affairs between monsterkind and humanity, the existence and status of the Underground, and the presence of resets told him all he needed to know.

Even Dream's responses had become expected, although that was more due to his inherent benevolence than anything else.

So, yes- the multiverse was predictable to a reliable degree.

- Until a week ago.

Nightmare planned his missions meticulously. They did not fail. Perhaps delayed, and he occasionally needed to iron out minor kinks, but outright failure was never a factor.

The fact that Dream happened to be in the universe Nightmare chose that day was unfortunate, but it was an easy fix. He sent his men to the Capital with a single order, causing enough panic to draw Dream's attention away, and his plan was back on track.

It worked flawlessly for all of about ten minutes.

Nightmare's goal had been simple. Investigate one of the negativity spikes that plagued the multiverse as of late- the same that had Dream floundering like a fish out of water. For all his supposed wisdom, Dream had failed to realize that the emotional spikes were not the result of any 'affliction' or 'sickness' as he seemed to believe.

So when the spike Nightmare was tracking vanished completely, he had nearly gone into a frenzy, and Dream, unfortunately, sensed his sudden anger. His brother came like a moth to a flame, and Nightmare was happy to turn his frustration to his pathetic brother.

The battle had been going as he expected. The arrival of a Sans was slightly unexpected but hadn't even made a blip on his radar. He begrudingly gave the monster a bit of respect at how they managed to get Dream away from his for a few seconds, but it was child's play to find them and send the Sans off to the pits of whatever hell awaited him.

Oh, the way Dream's face had fallen felt heavenly. His face crumpled like Nightmare had not witnessed in decades, and- yes, he wanted to take a picture to make the moment last forever. The way Dream shook, his frown, the tears brimming at the corners of his sockets, the way his face twisted with the hopelessness Nightmare had always dreamed of-

And then the Sans, whose soul Nightmare had just shattered, threw a bone at his skull.

Nightmare was not ignorant of resets, but the situation screamed foul play. It had been nowhere near enough time for a reset or load to occur, especially since the Sans was from a different universe entirely.

Nightmare could not deny his interest as the Sans reentered the battle and somehow dodged him at every turn. Yes, skeletons tended to have a high tenacity for dodging, but few could bear to stand so close to his aura without collapsing.

Nightmare's memories toward the end of the battle were fuzzy. He remembered his brother finally releasing his fragile hold on his aura, enveloping the forest in its sickly sweet tones. Nightmare responded in kind- flooding the air with negativity to choke Dream out.

Then the Sans, somehow still standing despite the clash in auras, dared to grab him, and then-

Nothing.

Nightmare had not slept in a millennia.

He would have thought the same nightmares he inflicted on others on an hourly basis would fill his dreams, but his sleep was oddly peaceful. No demons nor haunting visages visited him, and he idled in the darkness of his mind for what felt like days.

The multiverse was meant to be predictable. It moved in expected and flawed ways, but ways that could be measured and recorded for future reference.

This Sans was an oddity—an anomaly. A strange mystery in a multiverse Nightmare had already scavenged for everything of interest to him.

There was no record of this Sans, Classic, anywhere until a month prior. It seemed he had fallen into the multiverse out of, quite literally, nowhere. While a universe suddenly gaining access to the rest of the multiverse was expected, what was not was the extent Classic had spread his influence in such a short time.

With Ccino's report, Nightmare wasted little time reaching out to the destroyer and protector. Error had appeared particularly peeved when Nightmare reached out to him, dismissing him until Nightmare uttered Classic's name. The destroyer had gone quite still, seeming to hover threateningly near a crash at the name alone, and a wave of nostalgia flowed over him.

It was a plethora of information Nightmare had not been expecting, and he happily bid Error farewell when he recovered enough to threaten to decapitate him.

Ink, on the other hand, was a dead-end. Getting him to talk was easy enough, but he hardly reacted to Nightmare's probing about Classic, stuck with that annoying blank look on his face. Ink only muttered something about a metal chair, blinked at him, and then greeted him with a child's enthusiasm.

And, of course, there was his brother. From his and Classic's interactions on that day alone, it was not difficult for Nightmare to glean the burgeoning friendship between the two, and the expression that crossed Dream's face at Classic's fake death began to make more sense.

It seemed Classic had undergone a rather unconventional introduction into the multiverse. The more Nightmare heard, the higher Classic raised on his list of utter buffoons.

It was strange. Unexpected. Exciting.

Nightmare had not faced a new mystery in centuries. His studies were his first venture into the multiverse outside of spreading negativity, and it had successfully occupied him for most of his existence. But then things got predictable. Nightmare found that, with enough time, any question at all got boring quickly.

Classic presented a new project with novel results.

And Nightmare was very, very curious.

#sttmh #sttmh drabble #classic sans #nightmare sans #dream sans #undertale fanfiction #ao3 undertale #utmv #lightly edited

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mar3ggiata · 2 months ago

Text

professional help, c19. Splendid

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs.

song to listen to when reading this: Carmen: Habanera, Georges Bizet.

abstract: this is what I usually do when I work, which is killing people and getting annoyed at my subordinates. in case you're dumb enough not to have noticed, this is Simon. anyway, technical boring chapter, but a few important informations you should keep in mind…. it's gonna get messy, try to keep up.

'ETA is ten minutes.'

Jude had her arms crossed on her chest, her eyes were scanning the screens. There was a lot to take in. She could see the body cams footage, along with which soldier the camera belonged to. They were sitting in two separate cars, guns below their feet. Some were talking to each other. At some point, one of them turned and the Lieutenant appeared on video. He was looking ahead of him, arms crossed on his chest, silent and stoic. She looked away. She could see the weather radars, and the GPS on the remote control cars that were about to be sent ahead.

'India 0-1, this is Alpha 0-1, whether status check, over'. Alpha was the captain, she had gathered. 'Alpha 0-1, this is India 0-1…' she paused for a second 'weather is stable, nothing to report, over.' She knew by now everyone was listening to what she was saying. She kept a serious tone of voice. 'India 0-1, roger that, out.' Simon thought she was pretty good at this. She sounded like she had been doing it forever. How was she good at everything all the time? The car he was sitting in came to a halt, they prepared the two remote control vehicles to send in before them. Securing the two drones on top, one of his teammates spoke into his radio. 'India 0-1, it's Charlie 0-2, RC cars moving in, out.' Alba adjusted the screen to see it better, even thought it was still blank. There was silence for a few seconds, they were waiting for the vehicles to get in position. 'India, check status with Eagle 0-3 before we sent out the drones, out.' She heard Price speak again out of nowhere, which made her jump in her seat. 'Alpha, I'm checking now, out.' She quickly switched channels to communicate with the airplane. 'Eagle 0-3, this is India 0-1 last check before the drones are sent out, over.' The reply was instant. 'Nothing to report, all clear' that was what they said and what she repeated to the captain. 'Roger that, you should have vision in a few minutes.' She waited patiently, until on her smaller monitor appeared the live video from the drones, which got to the middle of the crater. One was gonna stay at a good altitude, giving her visual of the whole base, the other would slightly come down to try and identify Khorram. She wondered for a second if Arash was there with them… He had vanished, he never came back to the base and everyone assumed he was in the Middle East right now…

'India, you got visual?' She snapped back to reality. Focus. 'Positive.' Simon proceeded to start his climb with Soap and Rabbit. He was on the North side. The crater started getting steep once they approached the top, the air was hot and it had gotten more windy. Sand was in his eyes. He already felt sweat prickle down his back, his mask didn't help with ventilation. 'India 0-1, this is Bravo 0-2. We're in position. How copy?' He waited for Johnny to approach him, they would take down two of Khorram's men at the same time, the ones guarding the perimeter. On the East side, the Alpha team would do the same with the third one. 'Bravo 0-2, copy loud and clear' he heard her sweet voice ring in his ear though the headphones. 'Wait for Alpha team, I'll update you.' He felt a knot in his stomach form for a second. 'They're not in position yet?' he asked. 'They're still climbing, it's much steeper on their side'. He rolled his eyes, positioning himself between two rocks and adjusting his sniper in place with the silencer. 'You still have good visual?' he spoke again. He was just making sure everything was going well, no harm in that. Without the captain, he was the one in charge after all. 'I do', she simply replied, clearly not wanting to be questioned. 'Let me know when they're close…' she didn't respond. 'India 0.1, how copy?' Why do you have to be annoying even when I'm working on the other side of the world? 'Loud and clear, Bravo 0-2'.

He heard a chuckle. She heard it too. In sync, him in the middle of the desert, her in an office in America, they both turned their heads to the source of the laughter. Squatting behind the Lieutenant was Rabbit. She looked at Simon's body cam, which was partly turned towards him. He had a grin on his face. I can get you killed from over here, the fuck you laughing for? 'Sorry, India 0-1… you can say other words apart from loud and clear, you know?' She felt her cheeks go red. She cleared her throat before replying 'I'll say splendid if I'm in trouble.' She switched off, letting out a sigh. I don't even know you, shut the fuck up. She almost didn't pay attention enough to ear Simon tell off Rabbit, telling him to be quiet. Fortunately, Alpha team had reached position. The execution of the three snipers was relatively easy for Ghost and the others. The real deal was getting down without getting caught. 'Alpha 0-1 to all stations, start to climb down. Don't make a sound.' Her palms started sweating hearing Price pronounce those words. She focused on the screens that showed the images of the drones. 'India, tell us what you see', instructed the captain. 'There are three tents on the East side, I count four South side, in semicircle. There is a bonfire in the middle, I count… four men around. Armed.' She tried to be as clear as possible. 'One of the tents on the southern side is bigger than the others. There are two pick up trucks that could give cover to the Bravo team.' She added. 'Our man?' asked an unknown voice, 'I don't see him', she replied. She squinter her eyes to see better, the four men were standing around the fire, which was the only source of light, a part form the headlights of the two vehicles. 'India, status?', asked the captain again. 'They're not moving, they're talking…' she replied 'I see one person inside the pick-up on your right, Bravo team, on the drivers side.' 'Copy that', it was Simon who spoke. He nearly tripped on a branch he din't see. He didn't see it because it was fucking pitch black outside. Now that they were closer to the crater's centre, he could see the fire and the trucks, their engines were on. Staying low, ready to fire his gun, he kept moving. 'India, status?' 'They haven't noticed anything. No one else has left the tents… I think they have two bikes…'

'You think?!' Shit.

'No sir, I'm sure', get your shit together Alba, 'they're covered by a blanket, they're definitely motorbikes. Behind the tent with the snake print, west side.'

It all went to shit extremely fast. He would later learn it went to shit because some dickhead from Alpha team slipped on wet grass and made noise and one of the soldiers heard him. Un-fucking-believable. They approached the truck and hid behind it, ready to take down the driver. It would take Simon a bit of knife work to do it silently. What they heard next sent chills down their spines. 'Alpha team, you got one coming towards you, he heard something.' Jude's words were sharp. They had been compromised. Shots were fired before he could give any orders to his men. Jude started seeing the body cams images getting confused and erratic, they were running and covering the camera with their rifles. Simon realised he had to move when he heard screams in a different language. He quickly took down the driver, preparing to attack. The Alpha team didn't have any coverage, they were far and exposed, still at the side of the crater. 'Use the tents as coverage, Khorram's inside they're not gonna shoot!' He heard Jude's voice over the noise. Preoccupied and scared. Told you this wasn't the place for you sweet angel… He was able to shoot one of the four men around the fire, but things were moving at a faster pace then they'd imagined. 'Bravo team, the tent to your right, something's going on inside', Jude alerted them. 'Ghost cover me!' He turned around to see Johnny peek around his corner, he wanted to go check the tent. Simon quickly did what he asked. He could see the Alpha team peeking out from the side of the tents, they wouldn't last long for sure, they were extremely close to the bonfire.

'Jude do you see him?'

'Alpha 0-3 is down!'

'I see him!' Simon got out of his precious hiding spot right the second Jude spoke. He disarmed one of the remaining men, using his knife to finish the job. Glancing to his left he spotted his teammate on the ground, saw Gaz running towards them. 'Go, I'll take him!' He turned away, 'Jude where to?' he asked. He could see his surroundings better now that the bonfire was close. He didn't wait for the girl to answer him, cause Johnny appeared from inside the tent. He heard an engine start. No… 'The bikes, three of them heading south-west.' They wasted no time, but the bikes were already climbing up the mountain.

You see, they did get him in the end. Rabbit took one of the trucks and provided coverage to the others, he basically run over half the camp. Price was the one who shot Khorram in the shoulder. Two other men died, one was captured. Alpha 0-3, his name was Thomas, he made it alive. They got out of the crater and back to the cars. Jude's voice was in their ears. 'All stations, I see a sandstorm approaching your position, you should hurry up' and 'Positive ID on the target' or 'You got troops approaching from north-east'. They weren't the only ones listening to her. When Thomas was shot in the crater his headphones basically flew away when his head hit the ground. Gaz didn't even bother taking them, he just got his friend on his shoulders to carry him away… Two men were in the crater not even ten minutes after they had left. They saw the fire, the blood. They saw the devastation the truck left and the motorbikes scattered on the ground. Most importantly, they saw the headphones. One of them put them close to his ear, to see if he could hear a conversation. And he could. 'Bravo 0-1, this is Alpha 0-2, we're right behind you, out.'

'Alpha 0-2, status on Alpha 0-3, over.'

'Bravo 0-1, stable condition. India 0-1, word from the aircraft?'

'This is India 0-1 to all stations, you're clear to go.'

The man with the headset turned his head to look at the other. That voice. He recognised her. She spoke again, he couldn't believe his ears. She spoke one last time, he felt rage. Then someone, Bravo 0-1, called her by her name. Four damned letters, a death sentence. You shouldn't have said that, brother…

I know who Jude is.

notes: shit.

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