#but i am going to have another year of waiting game once again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaiser1ns · 7 months ago

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𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

╹synopsis :: in an attempt to win once again, rin is betrayed by his own children who seemed to love their mother more.

╹contents :: domestic life with rin, characters are 25 years old, FLUFF, the kids betrayed rin wopsie, personal headcanon is that when he grows up he tends to be more gentle but only for you tho <3

╹notes :: posting this and going into hibernation again , I am cooking up some fics and drabbles tho

Never in your life would you have guessed and expected that you would have a family not with anyone, but with Itoshi Rin. The sixteen year old boy who ignored your existence but always gave you his English notes. The boy who always listened to your complaining during breaks, that you are thirsty or hungry and when you left the classroom and came back there was always a strawberry milk with a chocolate cupcake on your desk.

The boy who is now your husband, a successful young footballer who at only 25 years of age has a lot of achievements — in career and personal paths of course. Winning another treble with his team, he had a break during the summertime where he could spend more time with you and the twins — Haruto and Hinata.

Rin had never thought he would be a good father, that he would be a father at all if he was being honest with himself. But the miracle happened and now there are two little nine-month-old babies waiting to be fed sitting in their high chairs.

You sit at the kitchen table, feeding Haruto and Hinata their breakfast while Rin sips his coffee, a soft smile adoring his now more matured face as he watches the three of you. He was smitten by how fast you adapted to parenthood because just twenty years ago you were kids playing house taking care of the many baby dolls you had and now the game came into life.

"He's trying to stand again," you say, glancing over at Haruto, who's attempting to pull himself up on the edge of his high chair.

Rin looks over at his son, who looks exactly like you, but can't get by without the genes and the visible lower eyelashes. "Hinata's been babbling non stop. I swear she probably got that from you." Setting his cup down wiping the mashed potatoes from his daughter's mouth. As for her, she is Rin's copy , as you sometimes tend to joke that Rin and Hinata look more like twins instead of her brother.

Rolling your eyes at his comment as Haruto took another spoon of the puree. "Well, it's good that she is trying to say her first words." Looking at your husband with this glint in your eyes that now spark and he just knows that this stare is up for no good. "But with you always staying quiet, I think, it will take her way more time to say the two syllables."

Rin raised an eyebrow. "Careful who you are challenging now." As the babies giggle and play with their food, you and him engage in a staring contest, each silently daring the other to back down.

"I bet Haruto will walk first," you declared confidently, eyeing the little boy as he was just playing with his food along with his sister. Rin scoffed, furrowing his brows as he crossed his arms. "Hinata will definitely beat him to it. She's already trying to stand on her own and talk."

Just then, amidst the 'fight' a glob of potato puree escapes Haruto's grasp and lands on Rin's shirt, much to your amusement and his dismay.

"See, even your son disagrees with you," you replied, unable to contain your laughter as you got a napkin to wipe the mess off your husband's shirt.

Rin's expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his annoyance. "Looks like Haruto is already making his own statements," he remarked, glancing down in an attempt to be angry at his son for throwing the mashed potatoes but he just couldn't. Not when he looked so cute, with his little baby eyes that were the same color as yours, it was really scary how each of you had a little copy of yourself.

"Maybe he's trying to tell us that he's ready for solid foods," You joked, reaching for another napkin to clean up the rest of the mess on your son's chair.

Rin shook his head, going to take a sip of his cold coffee, "Or maybe he's just following in his mother's steps to be a troublemaker." he teased, earning a playful swat on the arm from you making him nearly choke. "Oh, please! Just because I had detention twice in highschool doesn't mean anything."

"And why did you have detention?" That you didn't like to answer because he will again make fun of you for doing it when you were kids. "You know why, Rinnie."

He actually doesn't know because they didn't want the reputation of the school to be tarnished and kept it secret between the teachers and people involved.

"How lukewarm, and I wanted to show our kids who not to take an example from." Rin said, reaching out to tickle Haruto's chubby cheeks as if seeking his son's support in his quest for answers. A small smile playing on your lips despite your attempt to stay neutral. "Fine, fine. I may have... uh, taken matters into my own hands when some idiots decided to talk shit about you," you admitted shyly, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation.

Rin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You got detention for defending me?" he couldn't believe it, actually he can, sometimes you get aggressive, be it because of people who shit talk him, a video game, or the fact that your favorite flavor of ice cream was out of stock. "That's... You are actually insane."

For once you expected something romantic to come out of his mouth but having big expectations can only let you down. You didn't mind though, that was his way of showing his appreciation and apparently it was sarcasm with witty remarks. "Well, you know, I couldn't just stand by and let them bully you," you mumbled, busying yourself with cleaning up Hinata's highchair now, trying to avoid further discussion on the topic. "At least they stopped messing around with you."

Rin reached over, gently lifting your chin with his finger to meet his gaze. "Thank you, Y/N," the tenderness in his voice and the love in his eyes told you enough. And you felt sixteen again when you got your first kiss. Leaning closer his nose touching yours, his lips barely brushing against yours , suddenly the babies started crying, interrupting the moment. With a soft sigh, you pulled away, smiling apologetically at Rin before rushing to attend to the crying babies. Rin glared at the twins for momentarily stealing his wife's attention. And he wonders, from where did they get to be so clingy?

Changed and cleaned, Haruto and Hinata played with their toys on the soft rug in the living room, as you and Rin sat on the couch, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation and not changing diapers or removing food from your clothes but instead watched Mickey Mouse Club House.

Suddenly, your attention was drawn to Hinata, who was attempting to pull herself up using the fence of their playing crib. "Look, Rin, she's trying to stand!" Y/N exclaimed, excitement evident in her voice. Didn't Rin bet on Hinata being the first to talk? “Quick open your camera, if I don't have this moment recorded, I swear Itoshi!”

Rin quickly reached for his phone as you went inside the mini playground. "It's recording, calm down," he said, already tapping on the record button.

Hinata wobbled on her tiny legs, her little giggles with a gasp of surprise, she took her first uncertain steps, stumbling slightly before falling into Y/N's waiting arms.

Your heart swelled with joy as you hugged Hinata close. "You did it, sweetheart! You took your first steps!"

Meanwhile, Haruto, who had been watching his sister intently, seemed to be trying to do something. Suddenly, he blurted out, "Mama!"

You and your husband exchanged stunned glances, eyes wide with disbelief. "Did he just...?" Rin trailed off as he was trying to process everything.

"I think he did," you replied, voice trembling with emotion. Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you looked at Rin, Haruto crawling to you as you placed Hinata on your left.

Rin's expression mirrored yours as he stared at the children, phone still in his hand, "I can't believe it,”

“Me too… Our babies grew so fast, oh my I need to call both of our moms and tell them about this!”

“They prefer you instead of me...” As you reached for your phone, Rin pouted "I didn't know I had 3 babies instead of 2." His mock hurt expression made you burst into laughter.

Grinning, you teased, "Well, Haruto seems to be leaning towards Mama, but don't worry, I'm sure Hinata's first word will be Dada."

As if on cue, Hinata reached out towards Rin, her tiny fingers curling around his shirt sleeve. Rin's heart melted at the sight, and he scooped her up into his arms, pressing a kiss to her rosy cheek. "Looks like she's already practicing saying 'Dada'," you said, unable to hide the happy tone in your voice. One thing was for sure that Hinata was daddy's girl and you will practice saying da-da just for Rin to have his moment of glory.

“Do you want to go to call Isagi and brag about our kids?"

"Absolutely.”

#✧* 🤍 blue lock #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin x you #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin #blue lock itoshi rin #blue lock manga #itoshi rin x you

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obeymeshallwedateaddict · 4 months ago

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Devildom 'I love you' day

Imagine if there was a day in the Devildom where all demons had to show affection in one way or another. How would the brothers do it? How would the brothers express their undying love for you?

Contains: Fluff

GN!MC (Reader)

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

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Lucifer

You heard a knock on the door which woke you up. It was early in the morning and you had gone to bed late last night since you were playing games with Levi. So waking up early in the morning wasn't how you were planning to start the day. You sit up in the bed and groggily answer "Yeah?" You hear the door open while you rub your eyes.

-MC? Did I wake you? –You look over at the demon with fuzzy eyes. It was Lucifer. The raven-haired, red eyed, arrogant Avatar of Pride had come to wake you. You assumed that it is something important since he isn't the one to come wake you up. But then you saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his arms. And on top of that he was wearing formal attire. You rub your eyes once again to make sure you are seeing this properly and yes you were. The first-born was standing before you with a bouquet of flowers, wearing a costume! And the flowers were your favourite ones. Have you ever even told him you liked those?

-Uhm, Lucifer? What are these for? –You ask and look up to meet his eyes. His gaze was soft and loving.

-Today is the Devildom 'I love you' day. Every year on this day people have to show affection towards their loved ones. So here I am, MC. –He takes a deep breath and gets on one knee offering the bouquet to you.

-MC, I know I may not show it as often but you mean everything to me. I love you more than words can even begin to explain. And I promise you. I'm not doing this just because it's the Devildom 'I love you' day. –You swear you could feel your cheeks heat up and you probably have the biggest idiotic smile on your face you nod and take the bouquet from his arms. You bring it to your nose and the sweet scent of the flowers floods your nostrils. You close your eyes and inhale it.

-Thank you, Lucifer. They are lovely.. I love you too.. –You say as the demon sits next to you in the bed.

-I have planned many things for us today. I promise to make this day unforgettable. But before we start I have something else I'd like to do. –With those words the first-born grasps your chin and kisses you passionately. Your breaths mingle together while your lips dance in a heated rhythm. When the kiss ends you embrace him and inhale his scent. It was your favourite perfume. It was obvious that the day would be a success. After all it was planned by no other than the Avatar of Pride himself.

Mammon

You were walking down the hallway of RAD. It was in the middle of the school day so you still had a few hours left to go. The day was overall nice. Nothing too hard nor too boring. It was a pretty decent day. And then suddenly you hear someone shouting your name from the end of the hallway.

-Yo, MC? Wait up! –You turn around and look at the white-haired second-born run up to you. You wait for him to catch up while eying him with a questioning look.

-What's up, Mammon? –You ask as the demon reaches you. He puts his hands on his knees and pants. When he finally manages to catch his breath he looks over at you.

-MC, I bought ya something! –He says and pulls out two matching keychains from his pocket.

-Mammon, what are these for? –You ask and carefully observe the keychains.

-Let The Mammon explain. So I heard some bullshit that today is some Devildom blah blah 'I love you' day. And eh The Great Mammon just wanted to show you some love, human! –You chuckle and roll your eyes. Though you can't help but feel a bit flustered at the demon's determination.

-So hear me out! Cuz I'm gonna say this only once. MC, I love ya. –He hands you one of the keychains, looking into your eyes.

-I worked hard for these keychains ya know? So you better wear it every day. Cuz I am! And I wanna match! –You smile at Mammon's little demand and nod.

-Alright.. I'll wear it, Mammon –You see a big smile draw on his expression and you smile back at him.

-I love you too, Mammon. –You lean in and press a soft kiss to the demon's lips and he gasps.

-Yo, human! What's the big idea?! –He asks and you wrap your arms around his waist in an embrace. You can practically feel how the second-born rolls his eyes which almost makes you laugh.

-Fine. The Mammon will show ya some affection. Don't get used to it though. It's just for today. –You decide not to argue with his little statement but you knew it was a lie. Afterwards you and Mammon spend a great day, filled with kisses, hugs, holding hands and most importantly –love.

Leviathan

It was a regular day. You were painting your nails with Asmo in the living room when suddenly you got a message on your D.D.D. since your nail polish was still wet you asked the fifth-born to read it to you. You saw him tense up as he read the message.

-It's from Levi. He says he wants to play games and is inviting you to his room. Should I write to him that you are busy at the moment? –Asmo asks and you nod.

-Yeah. You might as well. I will talk to him later. I'll have to wait for the nail polish to dry out. –The eyes of the demon before you brighten and he nods, typing a few words on your phone before leaving it on the table.

-Okay! Let me put another layer of nail polish on you! –Asmodeus says and reaches for the nail polish but your phone buzzes again. Asmo leans over and reads it.

-Levi said that he has something important. Eh.. can't he wait? –Asmo whines and shakes his head. You think over it carefully before speaking up.

-If it's something important I must see what's up. I'll speak to you later, Asmo! –You say, grabbing your phone and turning to leave.

-You are seriously leaving for that boring otaku? And leaving the nail polish? MC, you are so bad! –You chuckle at the fifth-born's words and head for Levi's room. You knock on the door and prepare to say the secret phrase but to your surprise Leviathan just opens the door for you straight away. You greet him and enter the room.

-So, Levi what's up? –You notice a small blush on his face and wonder whether to question it or not but the demon speaks up before you do.

-So uhm MC.. I h-heard that today is.. uhm Devildom 'I love you' day and uhm.. I wanted to give you this as a token of my feelings.. –He stammers out before handing you a figurine of both of you's favourite anime. Your eyes widen and you take it eagerly. Thank you Levi!

-Y-yeah... No problem.. know that.. uhm.. I.. I l-love you.. okay? –the third-born speaks and you nod.

-Yes, I know.. and I love you too, Levi! A lot. –The demon's cheeks heat up in a pinkish color and you chuckle to yourself before leaning in a pressing na soft kiss to Levi's lips.

-Wh-what are you??? –He questions but you silence him.

-Let's make the best of today. –You state and hug the purple haired demon, wrapping your arms around his neck. He only nods. You and Levi proceed to have a nice day filled with love.

Satan

You were sitting in the living room, scrolling through your phone in the company of Mammon, Asmo and Beel. The three of them were doing their own thing. Mammon was counting money, which resulted in a silent "one hundred to thirty-two" for example. It wasn't often but it happened from time to time. Asmo was reading a beauty magazine. He looked almost lost in it. Like he wouldn't be able to move his gaze away from it while Beel was eating a pizza and a devil burger at once. At once.. oh and he was drinking soda along with it too. That demon is impossible. Suddenly you get a call which draws everyone's attention to your phone. You grab your phone and check the ID to see that the Avatar of Wrath was calling you. You pick up and your first words draw frustration in everyone in the room.

-Yeah, Satan? What's up? –You speak and wait for him to answer.

-I want to speak to you. It's important. Could you come to my room for a bit? –He asked, hanging up before you could respond, leaving you with little choice but to make your way to his room. Standing up from the couch you walk to the fourth-born's room. You knock on the door and soon enough you receive a firm. "Come in, MC" from the other side. By walking in you could smell the faint scent of Satan's perfume. He was wearing a formal attire with a book and a rose in hand. You shot him a questioning gaze and he chuckles.

-Oh MC. Why are you looking at me like that? Don't you know what today is? –The demon asks and you shake your head.

-No, not really.

-Let me enlighten you then. Today is the Devildom's 'I love you' day. People on this day show their love and appreciation towards their partner. And I would like to do the same. –He offers you the book and the rose, by taking it you feel that the thorns have been cut. For as long as you can remember you'd always poke your finger into a thorn. But not today. Supposedly Satan thought about that as well and clipped out the thorns. The book was one that you have been wanting to get for ages but never got spare money to do so. You look over at Satan and smile. -Oh my gosh! Thank you, Satan! That means so much... –You speak and see a faint blush cover the demon's cheek.

-You flatter me, MC. And here I thought that today was the day I got to pamper you. But let me tell you. I love you, MC. More than words or any book can express. –He says and takes your hand. You look at his eyes and feel the sincere love he feels for you.

-I love you too, Satan. –You smile and lean in to press a soft kiss to the demon's lips. Afterwards you and Satan share a nice and romantic day together.

Asmodeus

You were helping Lucifer run some errands around RAD and it was honestly tiring. The man himself seemed exhausted and was barely holding up considering he is one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. So what's left for a human like you? You felt like you could collapse any minute now. And then all of a sudden you get a call from Asmodeus, the fifth-born. You answer and continue trying to catch up to Lucifer.

-Yeah? Asmo, what's up? –You ask and continue walking.

-MC, sweetheart... I've got something for you. Meet me in the cafeteria. –He speaks up and you watch Lucifer walk faster and faster into the distance.

-Sorry, Asmo. I'm kind of busy right now. Heyyy! Lucifer, wait up! –You call out for the eldest who didn't seem to hear your words.

-Lucifer! –You try one more time but it was also unsuccessful. The demon was lost in his own world. Meanwhile Asmodeus was giggling on the other side of the phone.

-MC, Lucy won't notice if you slip away. As I see he isn't even answering you. –You stop in your tracks and think about the fifth-born's statement. Perhaps he was right. But Lucifer would be pissed if you left him like that. Though do you care? You've gone through his punishments millions of times. It's not as if you cannot do it again. So there you were. Making yet again another poor life choice which you'll be scolded for.

-I'll be right there. –You say to the speaker and hang up the phone, heading to the cafeteria, instead of running after the lost in thought Avatar of Pride. Not long after you finally reach the cafeteria. When you opened the door you heard Asmodeus shout.

-Happy I love you day, sweetheart! –The fifth-born speaks and throws heart-shaped confetti your way. You chuckle and look over at Asmodeus.

-Thanks, Asmo. This is awesome! –You speak with the biggest smirk on your face. Asmodeus on the other hand claps his hands before walking up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

-I love you, MC. So so so so SO much! <3 –He speaks up and leans down, capturing your lips in a loving, yet passionate kiss. It lasted for a couple of minutes and when you finally pulled away, you whispered into the demon's ear.

-I love you too, Asmo. –The day you and the Avatar of Lust shared was irreplaceable.

Beelzebub

You were in your room, quietly scrolling on your phone. The day was pretty decent. You had a few errands you had to run but it wasn't something hard to do. And now that everything was done you had some free time left to do whatever you want. That's when suddenly Beelzebub the sixth-born barged in through the door. You looked at him with a questioning gaze. You didn't expect visitors. Or so you thought. After all your room is a public place and free to use for certain 7 demon brothers.

-Hey, Beel. You need something? –You ask and look over at the orange-haired demon before you. He had a hopeful look in his eyes. It felt like he was expecting something from you. Though you weren't sure what. Was there something you have forgotten? An outing with the twins? Or to make Beel his favourite demon sandwich? You weren't sure exactly why the sixth oldest would come into the room just like that.

-Yeah, MC. I heard from Lucifer that today is a Devildom 'I love you' day. And I wanted to show you how much I actually love you. To use the day as an opportunity. –The demon says and falls into complete silence before looking out the window.

-Well evening.. not day.. but.. will you spend it with me, MC? –The demon asks and you nod your head.

-Gladly, Beel! Let's go.. –You stand up and take the sixth-born's hand, leading him outside your bedroom.

Soon enough you and Beelzebub find yourselves in Hell's kitchen, waiting for your order. The sixth-born takes your hand, making you look into his eyes. You saw that same loving, yet innocent gaze he had. One of the many reasons you loved Beelzebub.

-MC, I want you to know how special you are to me. And how much I love you. –The demon speaks up while caressing your knuckles.

-I love you too, Beel. You are also really special to me. –You say and lean in, closing your eyes and gently pressing your lips to those of the Avatar of Gluttony. He smiled against your lips while they intertwined in a passionate dance. You and Beel proceed to share a nice dinner at Hell's kitchen.

Belphegor

It was a regular morning. You and the brothers had just shared breakfast though you cannot deny how wild it actually was. Mammon and Satan argued the whole time about the ingredients in the Devildom hell sauce. Asmodeus was painting Beel's nails while Lucifer was lecturing Leviathan for using his phone during breakfast. That was pretty much a regular morning at this point. And if it was peaceful you'd know that there is a problem. Suddenly the first-born finishes scolding Levi and turns to you.

-MC, could you wake up Belphie for me? I don't want him to be late to a meeting once again. –You listen to the raven-haired demon's words and nod before excusing yourself from the table. You walk over to the twin's room and knock on the door. When you didn't receive an answer you walked in. To your surprise though the Avatar of Sloth wasn't sleeping like he usually would. Instead he was sitting on the bed, wearing his school uniform. In his hand he was holding a little jewellery box. Playing with it and moving it from one hand to the other.

-Good morning, Belphie. Why aren't you at breakfast? –The demon turns his gaze to you and smiles. It seemed like his mood immediately shifted when he noticed you.

-MC! There you are! I was waiting for you. –He stood up and walked over to you.

-Waiting for me? I don't remember you asking me to meet you? –You question and the demon chuckles.

-I didn't call you over because I knew Lucifer would send you to wake me up at some point. But anyway. I have a little surprise for you. –Belphie says and opens the box, offering it to you. Inside there are two necklaces. Matching ones. The first one was formed like a moon and the other one was like a little sun.

-Happy Devildom 'I love you' day, MC. This is a little something I bought to show you how I feel. They are matching necklaces. One is for me and the other is for you. –He speaks up and reaches for the sun-shaped necklace. He wrapped it around your neck and clipped it.

-It suits you perfectly. Would you mind putting mine on? –The seventh-born asks and you nod. Taking the moon necklace you wrap it around the demon's neck and clip it up. And there you were. Wearing matching necklaces with Belphegor. You smiled and pulled Belphie into a hug. Wrapping his arms around you he leaned down and whispered into your ear.

-I love you, MC. –And with that he proceeds to capture your lips in a loving kiss. You were in a great mood for the rest of the day. Toying with the little necklace when you missed the youngest brother in class.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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Wicked Games 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A week passes in a tense slog. Barrett continues his pandering penance and you wallow in irritation. You want to put it behind you. You want to get past it but every time you do, it just happens again.

If this was the first time, it would be easy but you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve had this fight.

Your menial office work does little to distract. It only allows you to think about all the bullshit. The way Barrett dismisses everything you do and has to list of everything you don’t. The way he can’t see his own flaws or how you’ve never once rubbed his nose in them like a dog.

Is it passive or weak or just acceptance? You can’t say. You just always put up with it. It’s just easier not to make an issue of every little thing. Problem is, now it’s a big thing.

When you come home, you’re worn out but you still have work to do. Dishes, tidying, cooking. Even your weekends don’t allow you must rest. You need to sort through the bills and go get groceries. All along the way, he’s in the way. You’re not sure he’s trying to help, more so trying to force his way to forgiveness.

You grab a bundle of reusable shopping bags from the cupboard overflowing with them. It only took about a hundred of the things to start remembering to take them with you.

As you shut the cupboard, Barrett’s on the other side of the oven. Watching and waiting. He’d be a lot more help if you didn’t have to tell him what to do. You forgot a mug and to him, that’s high crime, but he can’t remember to pay the power bill without six texts on the due date.

“So... what’s going on today?” He smiles.

It used to be that that smile made you melt. It would make all your troubles flutter away like butterflies. Now it’s just another irk.

“Groceries.” You wave the fistful of bags.

“Oh, cool, want me to come?”

You nearly scoff. Every weekend you ask and every weekend he’s too busy. His pals want him to jam in their garage band or go fishing down at some dirty river. Another tick on the wrong side of the Pros-Cons list.

“Sure,” you shrug. It’s easier to just let him come along. You don’t need another argument and you could use the extra hands.

You shove the bags into the folded shopping cart and put your shoes on. He toddles behind like a lost child. You’re repress a glare as you grab your keys and purse. You’re going to have to talk this out sooner than later our you’re really going to hate him.

He follows you out to the bus stop and you wait in silence. You had a car but it broke down last year. Ever since, he gets a ride off his coworkers or friends and you flash your bus pass. It’s cheaper than leasing a car, even a used one.

You don’t know what stresses you out more; thinking about all the stuff he does or just thinking about your life. You get on the bus and sit near the back. He reaches over to grab your hand. You wince but don’t pull away.

“Nice day,” he says.

“Mhmm,” you grumble.

His attempt at small talk doesn’t go much further. You get off at your stop and walk the block to the grocery store. You unfold your shopping cart and pull out your list. Barrett grabs a bag of gummy bears and dumps them in the cart.

“Those aren’t on the list,” you say.

“I know but it’ll be a nice treat for later. We’ll have some tonight after dinner.”

“Oh, alright.”

You factor in the extra cost and mentally cross off the avocado from the list. You can go without. You roll through the produce section and work your way down the list. Barrett trails behind you.

You stop in the cereal aisle to grab a bag of oatmeal. As you stand, you flinch and cry out at a surprise peck on your cheek. Barrett puts his arm around your shoulder as he presses his lips against you.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Baby, giving you a kiss.” You look at him and he grins, “I miss you. I love you. I’m tryna be better, honey.”

“In the grocery store?” You challenge.

“It’s cute.”

“Mm, it’s... let’s wait ‘til we get outta here. It’s starting to get busy.” You glance around at the other customers, hoping none of them noticed his little act. “How about you go grab some drumsticks? Flyer says they’re on sale.”

“Oh, I can do that. Be right back!” He proclaims.

He shuffles off and you shake your head and turn back to the shelves. The store brand on discount is all out. You hiss in disappointment. You search the rest of the selection. That’s the cheapest on the shelf and you really can’t stretch the extra dollar.

You look up at the overstock along the top. It’s right up there but you’re just too short to reach. You give a poor attempt then stand flat on your feet. You peer up and down the aisle. You could find an employee.

“Need some help?”

You turn to face the stranger and give a start. They aren’t so strange after all. You know him. Well, not know-know him. Everyone in the city knows Steve Rogers, the Captain America.

“Uhhh...”

“What’s your brand?” He asks. “They don’t run restock until before closing. I usually come then, less busy but I got... ha, sorry, I’m rambling. What can I grab for you?”

You lick your dry lips and glance at the shelf. You appreciate the help but telling Captain America that you need the cheapest bag on the shelf isn’t exactly dignified. You point to the price tag on the shelf and he reaches on his toes to grab the edge of the box on the top. He wiggles out a bag and stands flat.

“Here,” he offers it with a handsome smile. “You know, it’s made at the same factory as the regular brand.” He taps the back of the bag, “exact same address. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re from the same lot.”

“Oh, well, er... thanks,” you take the oats and put them in your cart.

“No problem. Sometimes being a hero isn’t very glorious. Sometimes it’s just reaching the top shelf.”

You force a chuckle. You’re sure the Cap’s life is all sunshine and rainbows. Must be a real ego boost to help the little people.

“Well, I appreciate it, Captain.”

“Steve,” he smirks and stares. Your lower your brows and look behind you. Is he looking at someone else?

“Oh, of course. I should go find my husband.” You roll around him and try to shake off the awkward encounter. You look down at your list as you stop at the end of the aisle.

“Hope he’s not lost...” Steve calls after you. He says your name and you crane to look at him. You meet his gaze and blanch. He turns and struts off without another word.

You turn back to your path and slowly leave the aisle. How did he know your name? You replay the interaction and try to recall giving it but you can’t. Well, you’re not exactly thinking straight right now. It’s nothing. You’re just stressed.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #drabble #wicked games #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

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kennedyhateskanye · 10 months ago

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Across the ellieverse

An: you guys ate up my horny looser!ellie??!!??? I’ve been silently consuming Ellie Williams smut fan fiction for like a year now and it’s so silly and fun that I wrote something that made people horny. Swear I’ll write another one once I perfect the concept in my little Neanderthal mind.

Concept: there are so many distinct versions of Ellie on here that you guys write about, and I am so attracted to each and every one of them. This is kind of a conglomerate of some of my favorites.

STRICTLY 18+

—————————————

Hockeyplayer!ellie who calls you a puck bunny and smacks your ass when you ride her thick strap, she’s got that hockey accent and it comes out stronger than usual when she’s inside of you. She pumps hard cause sports have turned her into someone so cocky and vain. It makes it feel even better when she gets off the ice after a rough game, yanking jerseys and shoving players to protect her goal tender. she takes her mouth gaurd out and pumped full of the pride from her fresh win, she fucks you doggy style in the locker room with her jersey between her teeth exposing her flexing abdominal muscles. Insists on you wearing something cute, but not too slutty to her games because she doesn’t need her teammates getting a peak up your skirt while they’re waiting in the box by the stands.

Looser!ellie who whimpers when she pushes her fingers inside you for the first time, practically drooling while she heavy breathes. She’s got a shocked look on her face the whole time, taking in the smell and taste of pussy since shes never experienced it before. Her plaid boxers are soaked when you let her play with your cunt. she whispers things like “oh my fuck” under her breath as she whines from the sight of your sloppy pussy swallowing her fingers. The first time you two properly made out and she got to grope your tits, she was literally eyes blown wide mouth open. Her voice cracked as she said “mm is this okay” whimpering as she smooshed your tits together, SALAVATING at the sight. That night while you kissed sloppily she found herself rutting and against you in her jeans, she was so embarrassed but she just couldn’t help it.

Toxic!ellie who wants you to know she could have anyone she wants, when you argue she sends you the old photos she has in her my eyes only, of her fucking girls like they were an expendable commodity. She knew you’d be too jealous not to forgive her, afraid she’d go out and fuck some girl if you carried on pouting. While she pounds into you she presses down on your tummy, leans into your ear and sternly says “take it bitch”. You two were constantly on again off again, you’d make it a couple days without talking to her after your friends finally convinced you she was horrible for you, and to block her. then you’d get a text from a ‘text now’ number saying simply, “let me the fuck in, I’m at the side door.” She knows how addicted to her you are, and she makes sure to bring it up when she’s slamming you into the mattress, ass bent over the bed, and ripping your skirt up over your legs. “You know you can’t go without this dick, can you?” Of course, you give into her mind games “n-no! Fuck, mmmm I can’t go without it”

Pornstar!ellie who knows your the real star of the show, makes sure the livestream gets a good view of your pussy as she rubs your clit, smacks it, and asks the chat a series of questions. “Isn’t this pussy so pretty” “what should I do to it ?” “How long do you think she’d last if I tied and vibed her today, I know you guys fucking love that” “she won’t stop squirming, what should i do to make sure she sits still and shuts the fuck up, I’m trying to film”

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #tlou2 #ellie tlou #fic rec #smut

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strang3lov3 · 20 days ago

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Under the Table

Roman takes you to dinner. You eat pasta and he eats you (4k)

Tags - smut, stepcest, stepdaddy!roman, age gap, dom!roman, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), public sex, teasing, emotional boners, you make daddy blush and get all bashful so he reminds you who calls the shots, like Dennis Reynolds, Roman has feelings again but he’s still disgustinggggg, does he want to be your father or your daddy, oh he is getting so soft. But someone else is too 🫵 implied almond/alcoholic mom + other mommy issues,,,planting some seeds here don’t mind me,,, Fic help - @beefrobeefcal thank you for brainstorming with me and for giving me your eyeballs! @endlessthxxghts, ditto!! A/N - yeah I wrote a birthday fic for my birthday to my birthday party on my birthday with a birthday gift. shut the fuck up about it. I love you. I think next time we see him he’ll fuck your ass maybe. I don’t know. Someone jump into my inbox and tell me something gross they should do because I need to cancel out this goddamn sweetness. Rotting the teeth right out of my skull smh. also, I know we waited a while for more stepdaddy. I appreciate your patience more than you know 🩷 updates may continue to be slow this month because we’re getting down to the wire with school and all that stuff.

Stepdaddy!Roman Roy

7:34 AM. You wake to texts from old friends and relatives wishing you another happy year around the sun, don’t party too hard and so on and so forth. It does warm your heart to know that people are thinking of you. Your past birthdays haven’t felt much like the birthdays you had when you were younger, when you were so excited to celebrate your day you couldn’t sleep.

You pull on a sweatshirt over your thin pajamas and head downstairs to make yourself a bowl of cereal, and find Roman in the kitchen. “Morning, sunshine. Go sit down in the dining room.”

“Mm,” you grumble, voice gravelly from sleep. Your eyes are droopy and you still look tired, barely conscious.

Roman eyes you as you sit down. You rest your head on the table, and you’re wearing his sweatshirt. He’s not entirely sure how you wound up with it. He doesn’t say anything, though, only smirks to himself.

Roman goes back into the kitchen to plate some blueberry pancakes he made for you, just like he’s done since you were young. Roman’s not much of a cook, but this is one meal he can make and that he can make well. He wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but you asked him once when you were a kid and he didn’t have it in his heart to tell you no. Roman remembers how crappy that first batch came out, but how you didn’t complain. Honestly, you probably didn’t even notice with your pancakes covered in so much butter and syrup and whipped cream. You probably couldn’t even taste the blueberries. But thus, tradition stuck, and Roman’s blueberry pancake game vastly improved over the years. He liked making them for you as much as you liked eating them.

Roman returns to you with the plate of blueberry pancakes and sets it down in front of you. “Voilà.”

You lift your head up and grin when you see the pancakes Roman made for you. It’s straight out of a commercial, melted butter and syrup dripping down the edges with a dollop of whipped cream right on top. “Aww. You remembered,” you beam. You didn’t ask Roman for the pancakes this year.

Roman blushes, and he feels his heart beat harder. It’s been so long since you’ve smiled at him like that, and it makes him nervous. “No. I made them for myself, actually, but I was feeling generous. This is my good deed for the week.”

“You still remembered.”

Roman ignores the accusation. “I gave you all the fucked up ones, just so you know. And I spit in the batter.”

“Mm. Tasty.”

Fuck. Your eyes are sparkling, your smile is so warm. Roman can’t stomach it, how you make him feel sometimes. “Oh, shut up and eat your fucking pancakes, birthday girl,” he snaps, contorting his face to fight his smile. “I hate you. You’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes and eat your pancakes, humming at the delicious flavor. Roman grabs your favorite mug and sets it down next to you, then fills it with the coffee he made. Before you can thank him, the clattering of high heels on the hardwood floor interrupts you. Your mom is on the phone and stops briefly in the dining room when she smells the pancakes Roman made for you. She leans over your shoulder and takes your fork from your hand and cuts off a bite for herself. “Mom,” you complain.

“You can share,” she scolds, covering the mic on her phone.

Roman speaks, “Wait, don’t. I made those special for -”

Your mom smiles and kisses Roman on the cheek before he can finish his sentence, and then she’s out the door while still talking with Erica.

Roman looks to you for your reaction, and your face falls. That beautiful smile on your lips just moments ago, snuffed out like a candle. “I don’t think she remembered,” you tell Roman, defeated.

“Oh no, I don’t think that’s true,” Roman lies. “I’m sure she just - I don’t know,” he sighs, resigning to the reality of the situation. You can expect some mushy and emotional text from her later, probably tomorrow. “No, you’re right - that was bullshit.” Roman squeezes your shoulder affectionately and tells you he’s sorry.

Roman means it. He knows exactly how it feels to have a parent forget your birthday. His dad only remembered a handful of times, and every present always felt empty. It’s part of why Roman’s always put effort into making your day special each year. He never got the birthday he wanted or deserved, but he could give that to you.

“Listen,” Roman says, “I gotta run to work now. Don’t party too hard. Or do. I don’t care. It’s your day. Just don’t snort coke in my bathroom, okay? Anywhere else. And don’t do it before, like, four in the afternoon.” Roman pats your shoulder. “Just basic human decency.”

“I’m not gonna do coke in your bathroom, Roman.”

“I just feel the need to say it after the Uncle Ken incident, you know?” You laugh at that, though you shouldn’t. Roman continues, “Anyway, I want you to eat up all of your highly nutritious breakfast and when I come home tonight, you better be in your favorite dress.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m taking you out.”

“You are?”

“Duh, genius. Like me and you always do on your birthday, remember? Or are you forgetting as you approach your crone years?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, fuck off. You’re closer to senile than I am. Pushing fifty there, aren’t you, Roman?”

“Maybe. I’ve got some years left, so watch it,” he warns, then kisses the top of your head. “I fuck like I’m thirty, anyway.”

The rest of the day drags on, truthfully. You finish your pancakes, then go upstairs and treat yourself to a bubble bath, your vibrator joining you. Afterwards, you dress yourself in comfortable clothes and drive yourself around the city, picking up birthday freebies from different stores and fast food restaurants. When you come home, you do your hair and makeup in the way that makes you feel prettiest, then look through your closet for your favorite dress, just like Roman said.

Your favorite dress. It’s not an easy decision. You have a favorite dress that’s comfortable, a favorite dress on your body, a favorite patterned dress. You slide the hangers across the closet rod, contemplating, contemplating…until you come across that one purple dress.

You remember Roman pulling the zipper of that dress up your spine, his warm hands on your waist. How he fucked you in that closet, bent you over the vanity and split you open. You watched him in the mirror as you gushed on his cock. You wear that dress tonight, then pick out some shoes to match.

Roman presses his horn repeatedly to call you outside. He’s fucking obnoxious, but you laugh. You rush downstairs and out the door, and when Roman sees you he gets out of the driver’s seat and rounds the front of his car to open up the passenger side door for you. “Look at you, birthday girl,” he says, chewing minty gum. “You look so grown up.”

“Ew. Don’t, please.”

“So that’s your favorite dress, huh?”

Knowing Roman recognizes your dress makes your cheeks warm. “Yeah,” you mumble softly.

“Mm. Mine too,” he whispers, then shuts the door. He gets back into the driver’s seat and presses buttons on the screen until his car’s Bluetooth connects to your phone. “I think your birthday earns you DJ rights, yeah?” Roman pulls the gear shifter into drive.

“I’d say so,” you agree, picking out your favorite playlist on Spotify. Roman puts his hand on your thigh, inching it up and under your skirt. He doesn’t do more than an occasional squeeze, and tapping his fingertips on your skin. Still, it excites you.

Once at the restaurant, Roman takes your hand and helps you out of the car. You read the sign of the restaurant, Adalina, and Roman leads you inside. You notice he’s holding a little gift bag. “Reservation for Roy,” he tells the host, who then ushers you both to a corner booth. The lights are dim, tables covered in floor-length white cloths. There’s people chatting at tables and at the bar, someone softly playing piano. Once seated, the host lights a candle at your table.

“Your uh - your boy toy from a while ago. Is this where he took you? I thought you said something about not liking it,” Roman asks, unfolding his napkin and placing it on his thigh.

You shake your head. “No,” you answer. “I’ve never been here.”

“Good, that’s good…you guys still talk?”

You shoot him a look at the same time your server comes by to place a plate of bread and oil at your table and to pour water in your glasses. “Can I start you off with some wine, something else to drink?”

You look at Roman, who shrugs. “All you,” he says.

“I’m fine with water.”

Roman says the same. He figured you’d forgo drinking tonight, even if it was just one little glass of wine. That’s why he had you make the decision - he doesn’t want you feeling pulled in either direction. You’re not much of a drinker, with your mom being the opposite. It makes sense.

Your server leaves to give you a little while to browse the menu and pick out appetizers and dinner. Roman places that gift bag from earlier in front of you.

“For me?” You reach for the bag.

“For you,” Roman replies, mocking your tone.

You pull the tissue paper out of the bag before pulling out the gift itself - it’s…you don’t know what you’re looking at. It’s some bizarre figure of a frog dressed as a cowboy, riding…a bearded dragon? Baffled and wearing a smile, you turn it over in your hand. You wonder where on god’s green earth Roman even found something like this.

“I thought of you,” Roman says. “Has your name written all over it.”

“Oh Roman,” you sigh dramatically, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I know, I know.”

You examine the weird little toy some more, giggling at all of the details. Roman’s fucking with you, but you do love the figurine. He knew you would.

Roman reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a fancy leather box, then slides it across the tablecloth quietly. “What..?”

“Shush. Just open it.”

You put down your figurine and open the box, gasping at the sight. A gorgeous, multi-stone sapphire pendant sparkles above black velvet. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen, the design very intentional. Unique. “Roman…”

“Umm,” Roman hums nervously, hovering over you to point at the pendant, “They’re sapphires, so blue- they’re like blueberries,” he stutters, gesturing to the multiple round-cut stones. “‘Cause of the pancakes I make you…uh…sometimes.” Roman points to the little diamonds between the sapphires, “And the diamonds, I don’t know. I thought it was a nice accent sort of thing. And you’re a girl, you know. You like sparkles.”

You’re touched. Not only is the piece gorgeous, but the thought Roman put into it warms your heart and makes it all the more special. There’s no way he just walked into a jeweler’s and picked this out of the display case. He thought up the design and had it custom made, probably weeks or months ago. Had to have. Carefully, you remove the pendant and its box chain from the box.

“If you don’t l-” You put the piece of jewelry in Roman’s hand and turn your back to him. Roman smiles to himself. He puts the necklace over your chest and brings the chain around your neck, his nervously shaking fingers tickling your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “God, fuck - sorry, hang on,” he whispers, losing and finding his grip on the small clasp before successfully securing it. “There.” Excitedly, you pull out your phone and turn on your front-facing camera to admire the pendant on your skin.

You turn off your phone and put it in your purse, then fling yourself at Roman, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly. Roman freezes at first, then hugs you back gingerly, before finally squeezing you just as tightly, chuckling quietly at your palpable excitement. You pull away from the hug just enough to kiss him quickly on his lips, startling both yourself and Roman. “Yeah, so…” He rubs the back of his neck and blushes wildly, his cock quickly hardening in his pants. Roman coughs and adjusts his napkin over his lap, still feeling the pressure of your lips on his despite their absence. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” he whispers.

“I love it. Thank you.” You look at Roman with sparkling eyes, pupils blown wide as you beam at him. It makes him blush even harder, his ears and neck turning red too.

“Stop it, don’t - quit looking at me like that,” Roman scolds, avoiding eye contact. “It - it’s nothing.”

“I don’t know,” you reply, “I think it’s something.”

“Yeah, of course you think that. Because that’s the problem with your generation. You put labels on everything and think you’re all so special. Snowflakes,” he rants. “God, I can’t stand you people. You especially. I’d get that necklace for anyone.”

Defensive. He’s so fucking comically defensive, and it tickles you. “Hey, Roman,” you purr, in the mood to tease.

Roman looks at you wearing a seemingly permanent smile on your lips as you touch and toy with your pendant. “What? What now?” he asks, flustered and impatient.

“You’re kinda pink.”

“I’m not…pink,” Roman mumbles.

“You are. You’re blushing.”

“Shut the fuck up. I am not blushing.”

“No, you’re totally blushing. Your cheeks are all rosy.”

Roman buries his face in his hands and groans, eliciting a sweet giggle from you. The way you look at him, how you’re acting and making him feel. Tripping over his words, his heart hasn’t stopped pounding, cock achingly hard since you pecked his lips. You make him feel weak, and you’re not supposed to. Not like this.

Your server returns then. “Are we ready to order?”

“Yes,” Roman quickly answers. “I’ll have the…fuck. One - one sec.” Roman raises a finger as he browses the menu. Sorry, you mouth to the server. “Entrees, entrees…” he mumbles.

“It’s right here,” you whisper, pointing to the entree section of Roman’s menu. His large bulge catches your eye, and you smile mischievously. When did that happen?

“Okay. Yeah. I think I’ll have the charred fil- fuck.”

Your server’s eyes widen at Roman, who quickly apologizes. Your hand is on his bulge, squeezing him through the fabric of his pants.

“He wants the charred filet,” you cut in, answering for Roman. “I’ll have the gnocchi. Thank you,” you smile sweetly at the waiter, stroking Roman’s bulge over his pants. Silently, Roman gives the man a thumbs up and waves him away. Roman bites his lip as he waits for him to go back to the kitchen. “Alright, fuck this,” Roman snaps, squeezing your wrist and forcibly removing your hand from his lap. “You’re out of line.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re being weird. Are you feeling okay?”

“We’ve had a nice night, you know. Do you really wanna do this?”

“Do what?”

“Cute.” Roman wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his side. “I give you an inch and you take a mile.”

“You’re still so flushed,” you tease. This time, Roman doesn’t smile bashfully. Instead, he wears a frown and puts his hand on your knee, under the skirt of your dress. His palm slides up your thigh until his fingers meet your panties, and he teases you over the fabric. “Ooh. Look who’s wet,” he mocks, feeling your sticky dampness. Roman hooks his fingers under your panties and pulls them, sliding them down your thighs. “Lift up. They’re coming off.”

“What are you doing?” you hiss. You hold his forearm in both of your hands, attempting to pry his hand away from your lap. His muscles flex beneath your palm as he fights against you. Roman’s taking this much farther than you did.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You have to stop. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. Not like this, not here, not - Jesus Christ.” Roman tugs your panties down to your knees, then lifts your legs over his lap so he can remove them the rest of the way. It’s not long before you’ll be soaking through your dress.

“You’re not behind the wheel anymore.” Roman stuffs your soaked panties into his pocket and spreads your legs wide, one of your thighs still resting on his. “Shouldn’t have been in the first place.” You’re completely exposed right now, anyone could see what Roman’s doing to you. What you’re letting him do to you. He wriggles his fingers underneath the skirt of your dress and presses his thumb against your sensitive clit, causing you to gasp and jerk your body, hitting your free leg against the table. The utensils on your plate clatter loudly, and Roman’s glass of water spills over and onto the tablecloth. Another guest at the restaurant looks at you, and you force a smile at them. “Ooh, nice one,” Roman taunts.

Roman’s rubbing you in circles now, using his free hand to tug your dress up and look at your bare pussy under the warm light of the candles at your table. You look at him with pleading eyes, begging him, “We shouldn’t be doing this, Roman. Not here. Not like this.”

“Yes, here, and yes, like this. Don’t fucking argue with me.” Roman buries two fingers into your cunt, pushing them in and out of you slowly, collecting your arousal. “You didn’t think this one through, did you?”

He drags his slick fingers up and down your folds, feeling you becoming wetter by the second. He circles your clit lazily, rubbing it gently, listening closely to the wet noises you make. Your waiter returns with your meals, and just like you did to Roman, Roman keeps his hands on you. “Better keep it together,” he murmurs in your ear, pulling your skirt back over the front of your thighs.

Your server sets Roman’s filet in front of him, then your gnocchi down in front of you. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Yeah, actually,” Roman answers. His demeanor has totally shifted. He’s cool, he’s back in control. “What are your desserts tonight? This one here has a pretty severe sweet tooth.”

“Dessert specials,” the server repeats. “I have to think. They change them up on us a lot.”

“Oh, take your time. We’ve got all night. Don’t we, kiddo?”

“Mhm. Yep.”

Roman takes a spoonful of his mashed potato side as your waiter thinks. “Tiramisu, of course,” he says.

“Oh, well. Naturally.” Roman’s fingers slide down until he’s pressing them right against your slick little hole.

“We have a cookie plate, too. A chocolate and hazelnut mousse cake. And a pineapple angel cake. And gelato.”

Roman slides his fingers into your tight pussy, pressing them up to search for that spongy spot inside of you. “What flavors?”

“We have caramel butter cake, chocolate cashew raspberry…”

The server’s voice becomes distant as he recites flavors. You squeak when Roman reaches your g-spot, swallowing your moans as he curls his fingers repeatedly against it.

“We have sorbets, too.”

“What sorbets?” Roman asks.

“Mango calamansi, cantaloupe, and lemongrass.”

“Quite a dessert menu. Well, what do you think, birthday girl?”

“Tiramisu,” you mumble.

“I didn’t catch that,” the server replies. “What was that?”

Roman answers for you, “She says she wants tiramisu. She’s just shy sometimes. Aren’t you?”

You glare at Roman, who smiles at you, flashing those perfect little teeth of his. His fingers stop suddenly - he has an idea. He cocks an eyebrow when your hips follow his hand, bucking into his palm, “Interesting,” he says, smiling fondly at your desperation. Your face feels hot and you feel out of your depth here. Roman was right to warn you about getting into this, about it being a nice night.

It worries you to see Roman scanning the room and biting his lip. He’s thinking, which is never good. “Roman. Whatever you’re thinking of doing - don’t.”

Roman ignores your warning. “Keep telling me no and watch what happens,” he warns, then slides under the table with seamless ease. Once under the table, he pushes your thighs apart and pulls you close to the edge of your seat, putting one of your legs over his shoulder.

He licks your inner thighs, his scruff abrasive against your damp skin. Roman licks you higher and higher, pulling you closer to his waiting mouth where you can feel his hot breath against your core. His head bulges a bit under the white tablecloth, and then you feel it - one long, fat lick of his tongue up your seam. “Ohhh my god,” you moan, garnering a look from someone at a nearby table. You smile and take a sip of your water with shaky hands.

Roman starts small with little licks, sucking your labia into his mouth. First one side, then the other. His hands rest on your thighs, hot against your skin and squeezing your flesh. He licks over your clit next, then sucks it between his lips. He alternates between those two actions, stopping and starting all over again and again. You want more and less of it, of Roman, all at once.

Roman gently tugs the hood of your clit up, exposing your most sensitive part of yourself to his lips and tongue. He slides his two fingers inside you once more, fucking you on those digits as he sloppily licks your clit. You arch into his touch and reach under the table to hold his head and tug on his hair. “Roman,” you whimper.

He coaxes release from you effortlessly, patiently using his tongue to draw steady circles on your clit as he curls those long, bony fingers inside you. You bite your lip so hard it breaks skin, squeezing Roman’s head with your thighs and whimpering softly as you feel the beginning of your climax begin to take over.

Fuck. Your server is back with the tiramisu Roman had ordered for you. “The tiramisu,” he says, placing it on the table. “I apologize, I forgot to ask - do you and your date want coffee to go with dessert?”

“N- nah- no-” you stutter, though it comes out more as a moan as Roman fucks you with his tongue through your orgasm. Roman slaps your thigh and you jump in your seat, earning yourself a strange look from your server. Wrong answer. “Sor - yeah - yes. Yes.” Roman kisses your inner thigh in approval.

Your poor fucking waiter. He nods wordlessly to go back into the kitchen and retrieve coffee for you and Roman. At the same time, Roman emerges from under the table with his cheeks flushed and his hair mussed and out of place, which is entirely your fault. “Fuck,” you whisper. Hastily, you finger-comb his hair into place.

Roman grabs a spoon and takes the first bite of the tiramisu. “Mm,” he hums. “Sorry, birthday girl. Dad tax.”

Roman scoops up another bite of tiramisu, then brings the spoon to your lips. You take the bite, your cheeks warming when you taste your arousal on the metal.

It’s quiet in the house when you and Roman come home. He stops briefly in the kitchen to put your leftovers away, then follows you up the steps and into your bedroom. “Need help with your zipper?”

“Mhm. Please”

Roman pulls your zipper down your back, then turns you around. Before you can think, he cups your face with both hands and kisses you, really kisses you. It’s no accidental peck on the lips, no. It’s intentional, deep and deliberate. His lips are soft, his tongue melding perfectly together with yours. When he pulls away, you look at him with knitted brows.

“You kissed me first, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Then it’s on the table.”

Roman kisses you once more, then pulls away again. His eyes are dark and sparkling, and warm, too. He touches the pendant on your chest, holding it between his fingers before rubbing his thumb across the stones. It’s so intimate, and it leaves you breathless and confused. “Good birthday?”

You nod. Roman smiles at you.

“I’m glad. Goodnight, kiddo.”

tysm for reading!! please scream nice and horny things at me if you enjoyed ♡ reblogs, comments, and asks are so appreciated and keep me motivated to write for you guys

tags (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

@goldenispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @gaeela-6 @bean-is-reading @slutsoutgutsout

@galarian-weezing-on-prep @cum-a-calla @pastelpinkflowerlife @kolsmikaelson

@moth-maam56 @kothku @cult-of-escapism @swiftiegirliepop @bluecookies-and-ink

@romanarose @kappasbbgirl @magpiepills @highinmiamili @verstappensrealwife

@thesummerpetrichor @lilipads @luiscarrutherss @pastelpinkflowerlife @baronessvonglitter

@myromeow @ovaryacted @doll-0f-flesh

#roman roy x reader smut #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy/reader #roman roy #stepdaddy!roman #stepdaddy!roman Roy #stepdad!roman #stepdad!roman roy #succession x reader #succession fic #kieran culkin characters #kieran culkin

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meteor752 · 1 month ago

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Epic the musical side story where Hades and Persephone get really invested in the story during The underworld saga, sorta small talk about the strange man for the next couple of years, and then freak the fuck out in the audience during god games when they find out not only is the guy still alive, he’s managed to piss off like half the pantheon

Just

“Hey babe?”

“Yeah Perse?”

“There’s like, a bunch of mortals here”

“Mortals? What, how?”

“Idk, they’re like, on some ship”

“Huh. Should I call Thanatos, have him take care of it, or should we just wait it out”

“Call Thanatos, best to rid the garden of any pests before they manage to kill your flowers”

“Pfft, alright. I’ll be right back”

“Okay- wait. A bunch of the dead are singing to him”

“What?”

“Yeah like a bunch. Who are they?”

“Uhh, most of them drowned, a few killed by a cyclops. One broke his neck?”

“They’re singing about a cyclops, about how he let one live or something”

“Probably one of Poseidons. Should I still call Thanatos?”

“No wait, I wanna see where this goes.”

“Alright.”

“An infant, what infant?”

“Maybe the cyclops?”

“OH NEW GUY! He seems important!”

“Also a cyclops victim. They seem close, what do you think friend or lover?”

“They’re Greek, it’s probably both”

“I don’t know how he managed it, but this guy brought down like, the entire vibe of the entire underworld. That shouldn’t be possible”

“Yeah. Oh who’s this lady now?”

“Suicide by drowning. Not sure. Maybe a relative”

“Yeah may-THATS HIS MOM”

“OH MY GODS. OH HE DIDNT KNOW OH LORD”

“Hooooooly fuck, what a way to find out”

““Here in the underworld the past is always close behind”. Think we should make that a slogan?”

“Then we’d have to credit him and stuff tho”

“Yeahhhh. Well, seems like this guy is sticking around for a few hours. Should I grab some popcorn?”

“Yeah I’ll grab the fainting couches”

~~~

“Okay what’s happening now?”

“He just stated speaking to Tiresias”

“Tiresias? He went all the way to the underworld to speak with a prophet?”

“Well he is quite good”

“Wait did Tiresias just reject him?”

“I think so? Oh wait predictions”

“Past romance, sacrifice, betrayal, and some final battle? Who the fuck is this guy?”

“Dunno, but he’s not going home that’s for sure”

“Palace? He must be a king of some kind then”

“Do we know the names of any mortal kings”

“Nope, so that didn’t help at-wait his wife is doing what”

“Ohhh, that must be rough, hearing it from a prophet”

“Okay this chanting is getting intense. I think I heard the word Scylla”

“I heard lightning bolt”

“That doesn’t bode well”

~~~

“He’s just, sitting there”

“Is he done? Should we-oh. No okay new song, let’s see what’s going on”

“Man this guy has it rough. Should we like, do something?”

“I mean, I’m not really the “bless the mortals” type of god. I mean I let a guy borrow my helm once, and I haven’t seen it since. I should probably check up on that actually”

“Yeahhh. They killed a friend of the cyclops?”

“That explains all the cyclops victims”

““Witch turn men to pigs”, you think that’s Circe?”

“Sounds like he-WHAT WAS THAT THIRD ONE”

“You don’t think-?”

““God comes down and makes a fleet drown”, I am most definitely sure!”

“Damn. Wait wooden horse? Oh, I know who this guy is!”

“Really?”

“Yeah he’s one of Athenas warriors! Ody something. Odyssen? Odyssa? Whatever, I remember the horse thing was a big deal when it happened, Ares was pissed, Hermes spread the word to all of mount Olympus”

“One of Athenas eh? Interesting. Oh yeah, the god was definitely Poseidon”

“How are you sure?”

“That line he just sung, “Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves”, Posy is always fucking saying that crap”

“500 men? Damn”

“Penelope, presumably the wife. Don’t know about the other guy tho”

“Either a son, brother, or lover. Or maybe just a friend I dunno”

“Another infant? What the fuck is wrong with this guy, pulling a fucking Hera”

“Gotta appreciate the determination of him”

“Yeah, but I think we’ll see him here again soon. If he’s pissed of Poseidon, and soon to be Zeus if Tiresias is to be believed, I don’t think he’ll get much further when he gets out of here”

“So we are letting him go”

“Yeah. Partly because I want to see what happens next. When he gets here we’ll ask him to tell the full story, from beginning to end”

“Alrighty then”

~~~

“I swear if I get dragged out of the underworld for one of Zeus’ little games one more time this year I might actually start a war”

“Mum keeps staring at me…fuck she’s probably gonna try and talk after this, fuck meeeeee”

“We can escape in the middle of it, no one will know”

“Oh she’ll know. Do you know what this is about like, at all?”

“No, but I think Hermes might launch into the fourth dimension if he keeps vibrating like that in his seat”

“Yeesh”

“Hmm, odd. I don’t see Posy anywhere”

“Maybe he’s competing?”

“Nah, he always declines when Zeus asks, he hates it”

“Why were you not invited?”

“Dunno, probably has nothing to do with me”

“Oh it’s starting, it’s starting”

“Athena’s challenging eh? Interesting”

“Would love to know what any of this is about”

“Mortal lover? Demi-god child? Those are the usual subject”

“Yeah but that’s not Athenas thing. Probably something to do with one of her “warriors” or whatever”

“Apollo, of course. Always has to be apart of these things”

“The drama queen”

“Truly”

“Hephasteus and Aphrodite? That’s a little awkward”

“Weird lineup so far- fucking Ares? Yeah shes not winning this one, sibling spite is stronger than any argument she can give”

“Why would all three of them be included. I can feel the tension from here. I’m uncomfortable”

“And Hera? Yeah no she’s loosing for sure, Hera like not care less about any mortal, unless they’ve offended her”

“She might be convinced, just to spite Zeus?”

“That just sounds unhealthy on so many levels”

“Alright let’s see what this is about”

“Hold up, Ody?”

“Oh my gods. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Well he was one of her warriors. Was he not?”

“I can’t believe he’s still trying to get home. It’s been like ten years, how the fuck”

“Well, if he pissed off Poseidon then he probably has something to do with it, the pissy bastard”

“Killed sirens. Why would you do that, so unnecessary”

“Sacrifice??? What the fuck is this man up to????”

“Didn’t we have a few Scylla sacrifices a few years back. Think that was him?”

“Holy shit we did. Yeah, Posy stays away from Scylla to the best of his ability, travelling in her domain to avoid him is not a bad idea”

“‘Phro is mad that his mum died? Girl you are grasping at straws, even more than the previous two”

“Hold up, why the fuck was I not invited?! He traveled through my domain, disturbed my souls, he even woke up Cerberus with his monster wailing, I should be apart of this!”

“I mean it’s a bit weak”

“I have more grounds to be down there than fucking Apollo. Like sirens? Come on man”

“Oh ‘Phro refused huh? Only got two, that’s kinda weak coming from Athena, she usually gets at least four”

“Is that cheating? Her quick thought thing. That cheating?”

“Are there any actual rules?”

“Just, try to win, I guess”

“Oh Ares turn. Wait she lost Aphrodite, this should be over”

“I think this is more of a personal thing. Like I said, sibling spite”

“Oh yeah, Scylla! Fuck this guy is getting around”

“Oh damn, that pissed her off”

“Guessing that the guy other that Penelope, Telemewhatever was his child then”

“Oh wait they yielded?? Huh, never thought that would happen”

“And, Heras turn”

“Yeah like I said she does not give a fuck. But it was a good run”

“Yeah, keeping her four out of five streak”

“Wait what the fuck was that”

“She- she actually yielded?”

“And for not cheating! Man I love this guy, I can’t wait for him to die”

“Only you babe. Wait holy fuck she won?”

“Oh Zeus won’t like- oh, just like I said. He’s pissed”

“Is he gonna kill her?”

“If he does I’ll just resurrect her probably. She deserves a better end, even if she is annoying”

“Well, should we go then?”

“Yeah I have some paperwork to- do I hear boss music?”

“OH SHES STILL ALIVE!!”

“She took a lightning bolt to the face and lived, holy fuck. Gotta respect it”

“I think, she’s actually convincing him? Never thought I’d see the day”

“Well, she’s his favourite child. I think if Ares tried something similar he’d just get struck by another lightning bolt”

“Well, that was fun. When I come back up for spring I’ll have to check with Hermes more about the details of what’s live, actually going on with this Ody dude”

“Yeah. Wanna stop for applebees before we head on down?”

“Yeah, but let’s go now cause mum is heading like right for me and I don’t wanna deal with that until another few months”

This was dumb lol

#Including some headcanons of mine #1. The god games are a regular competition thing that Zeus holds #There’s always one challenger and five competitors (Most of which are very biased in some way)#Before Athena nobody has ever won #2. The reason Poseidon wasn’t competing was because he doesn’t like it #He wasn’t in the audience either probably waiting for Ody to “Get in the water’’#3. When Hades looks at a dead soul he can immediately tell how they died #Like a little chat box appears in his field of vision just giving him info about the dead person #4. Applebees have existed for thousands of years #epic #epic the musical #tagamemnon #Hades #persephone #odysseus #epic the underworld saga #epic the wisdom saga #I think I’m funny

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javierpena-inatacvest · 16 days ago

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Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium.

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while.

Frankie :))))))

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either

R u ok?

You

Yeah I’m ok.

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER.

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there.

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it.

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back.

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field?

Frankie :))))))

Called off work weeks ago

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams.

Of course he came.

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it.

Frankie :))))))

R u at memorial or westwood hospital?

???

You

Memorial. Why?

Frankie :))))))

Be there in 15

You

Frankie you don’t have to do that

Frankie :))))))

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon!

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you.

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance.

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying.

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem.

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date.

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance.

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter.

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair.

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do.

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea.

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t.

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember.

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away.

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.”

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process.

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight.

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.”

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow.

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat.

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay.

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road.

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?”

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror.

“I’m taking you to your game.”

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions.

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-”

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.”

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.

“Frankie, I-”

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.”

God, maybe you do want to kiss him.

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.”

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.”

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning.

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without.

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off.

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you.

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either.

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him.

“I didn’t know you were home.”

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand.

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.”

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it.

“Drive was good?”

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?”

“Fine.” Lie.

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst.

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you.

“Of course I was gonna come.”

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy.

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.”

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?”

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.”

That one shuts him up real fucking fast.

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not.

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.”

That shuts you up even quicker.

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat.

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it.

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.”

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go.

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!”

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now.

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in instead.

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital.

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give.

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get.

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you.

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.”

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor.

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about.

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.”

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.”

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return.

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down.

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.”

“Sorry about that, she’s um-”

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off.

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made.

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?”

“No, I just-”

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him.

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet.

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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thyfleshc0nsumed · 22 days ago

Text

Hey actually let's talk about cigarette burns since I feel like they're pretty in vogue rn for the t4t girlies out there. I have a few dozen of em so I'll share my experience.

First off, they are usually going to be semi permanent if not permanent. Not saying don't do it, but I am saying that should be considered.

There are ~16 on the back of my hand, all from around the same time from over 2 and a half years ago. Most if not all were not from putting out a square, but instead, holding the cherry against the skin. Most are faded enough that you have to look really close, but a few you could see from a glance

Most of these below are from a year and a change to nine-ish months ago, and they all were from putting out cigarettes. Some of them have a slight bump to them (likely small keloids) whereas some of them are much flatter. They don't itch or irritate and besides the visual blemish, I wouldn't notice I had em. Some are very faded and don't even show up well on camera, whereas others are very noticable even from a distance. I would very much not recommend getting them on your breasts, those are the only ones I regret. They healed slower and poorer and I just don't like their look.

I also have some on my back and legs but they're similar enough to examples shown here.

Second--the actual act of burning. Look idk jack shit but I find it's less painful and heals much nicer to just get it all done quick. It's like putting out a candle with your fingers. From contact with the skin to being pushed down all the way should probably be like a second, maybe less. Once it's out, it's out, it's not really gonna damage the skin any more, so unless you're going for long term skin damage, the name of the game is speed.

If you want to make that second hurt a little more, give it a drag right before you press it down, it'll heat the cherry up, though again, more likely to damage the skin more. Want it to hurt/damage a little less, wait till it's already going out. Besides that, any actual tips for putting on a good show are for another time.

Finally--caring for the wounds. I literally did nothing to care for any mine so no advice from me besides probably hit that bad boy with some alcohol wipes every now and then and please don't keep picking at it. I'm sure others can add what to actually do. I did have luck breaking down one that turned into a keloid by massaging it gently for a bit every few hours for a week or two but that could be random

I'm sure there are other risks but this is just things I've run into with burns, so others can feel free to add on

If u appreciated this post, consider checking out my leather at pansy-leatherwork.com

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simp-ly-writes · 2 months ago

Text

The Comment Section (pt.5)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Spencer get invited to another convention and host a panel; the fans are ecstatic and you have never felt so high, so happy and truly carefree in your life that makes you do things you would have no considered doing...

─ · · TAGS: SPOILERS IN TAGS!! gender-neutral pronouns, angst, social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at comedy, alcohol consumption, slowburn, light swearing, kissing, fluff, mutual pinning, friends that act like lovers, friends/lovers.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART FOUR | PART 4.5 | PART SIX

─ · · A/N: will they... won't they...

─────── · ·

🔔 angelagiovanagiarratana, just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

Much Time Later...

🔔 CreatorCon just posted, check it out!

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Liked by spennser, ianhecox, (name)s_username and others

CreatorCon please give a warm welcome to our newest additions to this years panel roster: (name) and Spencer Agnew from Smosh! 🎉

View all 1,577 comments

username99 not to be the grammer police or anything but you should also put (name)'s last name if you are putting Spencer's down since they are both not married 😬

↳ username01 shhh let them join the ✨ delusions ✨ ↳ username84 grammAr not grammer* ↳ username99 shut up 😘

username32 please bring back Brennan Lee Mulligan again!! I am on my hands and knees begging you, please!!!

username22 spencer helping (name) up the stairs and (name) holding the door for them afterwards is just so sweet 🥹

username48 hopefully the V.I.P passes actually work this time around

↳ CreaterCon we are so sorry to hear this, please send us a direct message to let us know what we can do to further improve your experience. ↳ username48 fix your shit. ❤️

username10 what is going on?? what about the Theorists panel, does anyone know where that got moved to?? I can't find any info on the websites or socials 😭

username50 love the line up (so far!) would like to see even more members of the Smosh family though. But I am really looking forward to this!!

username43 those crowd questions about to go crazy, too bad though they will probs limit their personal life stuff.

username19 they about to make a whole 1000+ people crowd third wheel, now that is talent 👏👏👏

smosh thank you for having them both for the weekend, us parents need a break every now and then

↳ smoshpit yes, please take them for us. PLEASE 🙏 ↳ ianhecox (but seriously don't actually, they make us a lot of money) ↳ smoshgames wait, why am i just finding this out now 😭 ↳ username67 for once i am actually fine with company account commenting, what is going on?!?!?

(name)s_username so excited to attend, thank you for having me and my "husband" 🤣

username71 OMG after last years PAX and CreatorClash events I am SOOO READY FOR THESE TWO AGAIN. ORGANIZERS ARE IN THE KNOW ABOUT (NAME) AND SPENCER, (YOURSHIPNAME) FOREVERRRRR!!!!!!!

spennser we are never escaping the allegations...

↳ (name)s_username never 🤣 ↳ username44 (yourshipname) actually addressing (yourshipname) directly?? never thought i would live to see the day! ↳ username01 we take this as them admitting feelings... right... right? ↳ username39 touch grass.

username29 Does anyone know what they are willing to sign or if they are signing stuff this year??

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🔔 SmoshCast just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.

─────── · ·

What is the best movie? (definitively)

Smosh Cast ✓ [Subscribed] Like 128k | Dislike | ... 582K subscribers 488k views 2 days ago #7 on trending (name) and Spencer debate the greatest form of every media. from movies to tv shows, video games and music; listeners are in for a wild ride.

2,222 Comments

username56 2 days ago Really missing Amanda and Shayne doing the weekly episodes, but I guess I can survive on (name) and Spencer... username77 2 days ago Why is nobody talking about how outstandingly (name) preformed in their movie?!?! I just watched it this weekend and was floored by their preformance. I'm surprised it didn't get any further mention in the videos! ▼ 199 replies ↳ username62 2 days ago I am shocked that a youtuber, nevertheless a comedian could portray such range and subtle expressions- it was beautiful even with what little screen time they had in comparison to others. They took away every scene they were in! ↳ username88 1 day ago I really hope they receive recognition, I really think (name) could make it mainstream. I mean, their connections alone from starring in this but be crazy. ↳ username19 1 day ago Im a selfish fan I will admit, I wouldn't want them to leave Smosh for other projects. In all honesty I could not image not having them in front of or in the background of Smosh videos. I mean could you even think of how Spencer would react?? They are stuck to each other like glue. ↳ username33 1 day ago they both are adults, i'm sure they could work something out. (name) shouldn't be held back from becoming something greater (even though they are great now!) because of the "kinda" relationships they are in. ↳ username20 1 day ago I think time will tell us the answers. But I really hope that (name) considers all their options... username01 2 days ago I have been living for all these play fighting and argument videos of the two of them. Like they have chemistry, a degree of hate for one another in some ways (but like healthy silly hate)- i'm pulling out my hair more and more as to why they won't just kiss already!! username67 2 days ago Okay but (name)'s take are 100% based. homebro/girl knows what they are speaking about and never missed ▼ 31 replies ↳ username72 1 day ago Yeah but I think Spencer's take was more well rounded especially in the TV Shows argument. ↳ username22 1 day ago Couples Therapist Here, I just like how they can argue so civilly with one another and really show active listening with one another. Take the eye-contact, small head nods, and inclined seating with restating what they said and expanding upon it. Its beautiful really plus they both know a lot about their field so that helps too I guess. ↳ username88 1 day ago OMG please make a full video break down of one of their videos together, it would do really well!! ↳ username10 1 day ago Yes, Please!! username27 12 hours ago Okay, but we all known that the best video game is Purble Place. username50 30 minutes ago I can't wait to hear from you both in person, have it marked on my calendar!! username91 1 hour ago cringe. username43 5 hours ago Okay but now I need tier lists on them together. Video Concept #1: (name) and Spencer rank every time they almost fell in love and the one time/multiple times they really did. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username66 1 hour ago Officially am deceased XD ↳ username21 1 hour ago Video Concept #2: (name) and Spencer rank every hangout that was actually a date username74 30 minutes ago why am I crying when the video ended?? Like I want whatever this is.

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by spennser, co_mill, anthonypadilla and others

(name)s_username it was awesome meeting everyone, same time next year? 😄❤️

View all 2,334 comments

CreatorCon let's make it a date? 😉

↳ (name)s_username noooo, not again! 😩 🏃‍♂️💨 ↳ username41 bwahahahhahahah!!! ↳ chickenshopdate oi!! 💢😡 ↳ (name)s_username ummm, now this is awkward... 😬

username88 was not long enough, i could listen to the two of you speak all day. defiantly worth the money!!

tomeybones i don't think florescent lighting was anyones light but you shine beautifully in it!

username48 glen powell's character should have gotten back with you at the end of the movie, you both had better chemistry!! Its giving La La Land all over again 😭

co_mill wished we could have made it but great work bestie, you killed it up there!! ❤️❤️

↳ (name)s_username aww thank u! would have loved having you there too ❤️❤️

username40 okay google, play "can't help but falling in love with you." move out of the way spenser, if you don't want them- i'll glady take (name)!

spennser good job fellow "spouse" 👍

↳ (name)s_username yes, you as well, "spouse" 👍 ↳ username01 okay, but this is just straight up cruel 😭

anthonypadilla i didn't see anything appear in the news so good work team!

damien_haas so as I was stuck in the signing booths you both were playing with paper airplanes and arm wrestleing?? What fairness is this?? /sarcastic positive

username71 OMG how did I just discover you now and miss a chance of meeting you?!?!?

username60 please tell me that there's a sequel coming out, I refuse to accept that you didn't re-marry him in the film 😭

phatchance excuse me but I know these two people packing out a 2000 person panel and they are the coolest ❤️

username31 I was too scared to ask anything because you both are just such pretty people like holy crap I love you both so much, you all mean the world to me and thank you so much for the hug. I am never washing the coat now

↳ username77 so that went progressively down hill lol

username12 Day 1.4 million of asking, just get together, or fuck, or something, anything but this (or breaking up for that matter) with Spencer. Like get it together.

─────── · ·

🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!

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🔔 alex_tran's story is no longer available.

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🔔 (name)s_username's story is no longer available.

─────── · ·

🔔 SmoshPit just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.

─────── · ·

Sneaking into Concerts??? (Two Truths, One Lie)

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] Like 79k | Dislike | ... 8.29M subscribers 370k views 1 weeks ago

7,889 Comments

username31 1 week ago I know I sound like a broken record but it feels weird not having Spencer or (name) in front of camera for once. I got so used to them always being part of the cast like Courtney or Ian. ▼ 10 replies ↳ username29 1 week ago I think around the 12 minute mark, Courtney said something about them both calling in sick. ↳ username73 1 week ago I mean... did you see their stories with one another last night? They both were properly wasted LMAO ↳ username90 30 minutes ago (name) is such a cute drunk, just complimenting and flirting with everyone until Spencer asks them to shut up or hugs them. Damien and Alex really had their work cut out for them hahahha! ↳ username20 4 hours ago Okay but external videos also show they dancing together and grabbing waters its so wholesome that even when heavily drunk they are constantly thinking about one another username88 1 day ago Would have never thought Anthony would have been the one to sneak into a festival! username28 12 hours ago Did anyone manage to catch (name)'s or alex's story last night or was I just seeing things before it got taken down?? ▼ 301 replies ↳ username90 30 minutes ago OMG YES! I threw my phone in shock!! Should've taken a screenshot I am kicking myself rn. ↳ username01 30 minutes ago I. am. not. okay. physically and emotionally after this. username55 4 days ago HAHHAHA "sick." hmmm sure (name) and spencer, sure...

─────── · ·

🔔 (Yourshipname) Updates just uploaded!

─────── · ·

"Drunk Minds Speak A Sober Heart:" A (yourshipname) Edit

(Yourshipname) Updates [Subscribe] Like | Dislike | ... 1.12K subscribers 499k views 1 week ago #2 on trending click to expand

14,119 Comments

⚲ Pinned by Creator (yourshipname)updates ✓ 1 week ago I will take this video down if requested by either (name) or Spencer but for now... MWAHAHHAHA they have kissed with photo evidence!! ▼ 173 replies ↳ username97 1 hour ago I think I have just ascended. This is truly one of the best days of my life. Take this all your non-believers and haters!!! Amazing edit BTW! ↳ username11 1 week ago I don't think they are going to bring it up anywhere but a small victory is a victory nonetheless. I see this as a mission success boys!! ↳ username01 1 week ago I am happier for them and their still non-relationship than my own long term one hahahhaa ↳ username27 12 hours ago I am in disbelief, I never thought they would. I don't care if they were both hella drunk, they actually kissed?!?!? Like I don't know how to process this information. ↳ username13 12 hours ago fwehd0dfygdkospfhjhgf ↳ username44 just now eloquently said. username23 1 week ago 12 years of pining for one drunk kiss, I'll take it gosh darn it! username90 4 days ago Am currently re-watching all the edits and past moments while having this picture on the side monitor. I am living in a peak moment rn. username80 2 days ago I called my mom to tell her about this and she cheered as well. usernmae32 just now (name) just confirmed on their twitter that them, spencer and the rest of the smosh crew are all going to the oscars! ▼ 4 replies ↳ username13 just now Yes!!! LETS FREAKING GOOOOO!!!! username60 4 days ago This will go down as one of the greatest love stories in the history of the internet; i need movies, more fanfiction, music, and more fanart!! username78 10 hours ago happy for them, truly.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: 😉

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria

193 notes · View notes

lostaurorax · 10 months ago

Text

girlfriend-boyfriend

pairing | nick bosa x fem!reader

authors note | hi guys 😊😊 i am alive & well. life has been very crazy lately but i feel like i always return at this time of the year write a few fics then disappear sooo here i am again! i love nick and their is no fanfic for him on here :( yet again here i am writing fanfic for an underrated nfl player 😉 i hope you enjoy this i love you sm and hope you’re all well!!!! lmk if you want more or have any reqs for me pls <33333

you and nick had been seeing eachother for a few months now. you had meet through mutual friends and you instantly clicked. once the NFL season started he had you in a suite at every single game. you absolutely loved making friends with all of the players partners and watching nick play every sunday.

it was the last game before the super bowl that would determine if the 49ers made it or not. you and all of the girls had been on the edge of your seats the whole game. the 49ers were currently 17-24 against the detroit lions.

the lions had fumbled the ball and the 49ers got it back. purdy threw to kittle and got a touchdown then made the field goal making the score 27-24.

“oh my gosh!!! yes yes we still got it!” you screamed as you hugged claire who was george’s wife

“omg y/n i think we’re gonna make it!!!” she screamed back and you hugged eachother

“oh i know we are.” you said back to her intently watching the game

the 49ers had gotten another touchdown and then the lions got one 2 minutes later. the score was still 34-31 and the 99ers were in the lead. a few minutes of waiting for the clock to run out was the most nerve racking few minutes of your life.

“and the san francisco 49ers are going to the super bowl!!” the announcers had said causing mayhem to erupt in the stadium

“THEY DID IT!!!!!!!” you screamed to kristin and claire as you all hugged each other.

“HELL YEAH BABY WERE GOING TO THE SUPER BOWl!!!” kristin said excitedly

“let’s go see our men!!!” claire said as you all left the suite giddily to join your boys on the field

you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest as you walked on the field looking around for nick. you weren’t exactly an official couple but everyone knew you were together because you were always with him and he was always with you, but you never said that you were boyfriend-girlfriend.

“do you think he’s gonna ask you?” claire whispered in your ear as you were walking towards the boys. secretly she had known nicks plane as george had already told her but she would never ruin a surprise and a little teasing never hurts.

“what? uhh i don’t know….do you think he will?” you replied nervously as you looked at her

“if he doesn’t ill have george kill him.” she said with a wink as you walked up to george, nick, and kyle

“oh my gosh i’m so proud of you!!!” you said with a big smile as soon as you saw nick in front of you

“couldn’t of done it without you watching of course.” he said with a smile just as big as he engulfed you in a hug

“i knew you could do it.” you whispered to him as you hugged him back. you were meet with silence for a moment as he just held you and rubbed his hand up and down your back

you had no idea that behind you george and claire had been scolding him to ask you

“so y/n..” he said as he slowly pulled away so he could look at you as he talked

“yes nicky?” you said using the nickname he hated but you loved calling him

“wanna come to vegas with me…as my girlfriend?” he said with a shy smile

“oh nick yes, i would love too!” you said happily as your lips meet with his.

“yeah buddy!!!!” george said from behind

“God finally. i thought i was gonna have to ask her for you…” christian said as olivia lightly pushed his arm

“YAY Y/N!!! you’re officially one of us now!!!!” kristin said as she and the girls also smiled

“alright alright! let’s go party and win this thing!!!” nick said causing everyone to cheer and disperse to party for the rest of the night

once everyone was gone you turned back to nick.

“is it too early to say i love you? honestly i don’t care because i do.” you said as you rested your chin on his chest

“i love you more y/n. forever.” he said as he leaned down to kiss you

“lets go party girlfriend…” nick said cheekily as he pulled away and stuck his arm out for you to grab

“sure thing boyfriend..” you said back with a big smile as you wrapped your arm around his and walked him to the locker room

#nick bosa #nick bosa fanfic #nfl fanfic #san francisco 49ers #49ers fanfic #nfl #nick bosa x reader

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sydnikov · 2 years ago

Text

Jersey || J. Hughes

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3

“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.

Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”

Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.

“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.

“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.

Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”

Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.

You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?

You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.

And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?

It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.

Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.

Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.

He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.

So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?

Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.

Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.

Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…

A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.

I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.

The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?

Perfect.

Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.

You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.

Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.

Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.

“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”

So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.

“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.

Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”

Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”

Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.

More confident, too.

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.

Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.

“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.

You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”

As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.

Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.

What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.

Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.

Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.

The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.

“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.

“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”

Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—

“Oh,”

Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.

But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?

Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.

He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.

He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.

You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…

The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.

“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.

“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.

Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.

A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”

You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.

“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.

Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.

“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.

They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.

Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.

He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.

You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”

You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.

Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.

All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.

“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.

As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”

Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”

You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.

“Oh! You guys worked it out?”

You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color. “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”

“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.

Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.

“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.

You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.

The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.

“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.

You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.

It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.

“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”

“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.

You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.

He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.

“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.

“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”

All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.

It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:

Home.

Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.

You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.

The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.

Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.

Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.

And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.

He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.

Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.

When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.

The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.

“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”

A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”

Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”

You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.

“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.

“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.

You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”

You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.

After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.

“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.

You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”

Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.

He had to approach this conversation delicately.

He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.

“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.

Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”

Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”

“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”

Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.

“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”

The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.

He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.

“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.

“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”

Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.

Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.

“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”

“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”

That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.

Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”

The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.

“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.

“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.

“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.

“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.

“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”

You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.

Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.

“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.

Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.

You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.

“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.

“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”

You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.

Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.

Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.

You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.

A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))

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smoooothoperator · 2 months ago

Text

What Was I Made For?

21: It'll Be Okay

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: noooothingggg

a/n: HIIIII!!!!!! WELCOME BACK!!!!!! I am so happy to finally had some time to write this chapter... (won't happen again, I'll start rehearsing a new opera today...) but at least I won't keep you without a new chapter... ENJOY!!!!

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Start of the season.

It was always exciting, seeing faces of people you haven't seen for maybe a few months, showing the potential of the team, starting from the roots.

As a driver, the start of the season was my moment—to tease a glimpse of my potential, share just enough with the media about my winter break, and unveil my new helmet to keep the fans excited. But that chapter has closed.

Now, I’m no longer the one in the driver's seat.

The day Charles asked me to join him in Bahrain, I knew that my role in the paddock was going to be completely different from what it has been the last five years. I knew that the moment I would receive my paddock pass, it would have written a different thing from the ones I always owned.

“Morning, love”

I sighed, feeling Charles' arms moving around me and his lips pressing tender kisses on my shoulder and neck.

Last night, when I arrived at the hotel in Bahrain after he had already had the pre-season tests, he tried his best to keep my mind busy. He made sure I was comfortable, knowing how hard the flight was for me while being pregnant, and ran a bath for me while he ordered dinner for both of us. He cuddled me, whispering soft nothing in my ears and then to my belly, kissing it and rubbing the cream the doctor recommended me to apply.

But he knows me better than I would like to admit, and he knew what was troubling me. But still, he didn't say anything about it, offering me silent support.

“Hey…” I whisper, feeling his hand rubbing my belly.

Six months pregnant. Now it was the moment when we should start looking forward, finding a place where we can raise our son, buying things for him, deciding where I want to have him, how I want to have him

“How are you feeling?” he whispered.

I sighed, holding his hand and bringing it to my chest, keeping it on top of where my heart is beating strongly against my ribcage.

“I’m nervous,” I whisper, my fingers tracing small circles over his hand. “It’s all hitting me at once: anxiety, doubt... I can't seem to shake it.”

“Hey, talk to me” he smiled softly, pressing another kiss to my shoulder.

“It's… I don't know, this is new” I sighed looking at him. “Not being a driver anymore, staying in the garage while I watch you drive the car… Walking next to you, holding your hand and faking a smile like everything is fine. I..”

“I know this is a big change for you, my love” he whispered against my hair. “But you are not alone in this, Dafne. I am with you, and I'll walk next to you in the paddock, I'll hold your hand and kiss you all the time. I know you would want to be in the car and beat me on the track, but now I have a reason to come back and be a better driver, to beat everyone out there in the track”

“You do?” I smiled weakly, pressing my back on his chest.

“Yeah” he smiled. “Now I have you waiting for me in my side of the garage, and in a few months I will have Dorian waiting for me. It will make me want to be better, to make you two proud”

I turned around slowly, with his help, and faced him. He was looking at me how he has been looking at me for the last few months. His greenish eyes were shining and portrayed a relaxed gaze that always tried to connect with mine. The smile on his lips is always wide when we connect our eyes. And his beard grew a little more, making him look even more handsome than he already was

“I will always be proud of you” I whisper. “No matter what. No matter if you have a DNF, if you only have a point, if you end second. No matter what, I'll always be proud of your hard work”

He smiled and kissed my forehead, wrapping his arms around me tightly. I tangled my legs with his, feeling my belly pressing his stomach.

“Dorian will be so loved, Dafne” he whispered. “He will have a lot of people wanting the best for him, huh? Our families, our friends… The whole team…”

“Yeah” I smiled looking at him, pressing a soft kiss on his lips.

He kissed my forehead, his lips warm and reassuring. As I nestled into his chest, I took a deep breath, the familiar scent of him wrapping around me like a comforting blanket, grounding me in this new reality.

Our life the last month has been hectic, full of visits to the lawyer, medical exams and media conferences. We wanted to keep everything as private as we could, only deciding to reveal it once the results of all the testings were given back to us.

“You know the interviewers will ask a lot of things to you right?” I whisper. “About us, about Melanie…”

“Yeah, but now that we have answers, I'm not worried at all” he smiled. “I already talked with my manager, and I will answer everything they ask about that, but obviously not saying too much”

“Good boy” I chuckled softly.

He laughed and rubbed my back gently, touching the spots where the pain was too much even if I was only laying on the bed. I hummed softly, closing my eyes and enjoying the pressure of his fingers in my back.

“We should get ready” he whispered in my ear, making a shiver running down my back. “Go to have breakfast… Because I know you were looking at the restaurant last night when we were doing the check in…”

“Hey, don't blame me” I chuckled. “I know this hotel has a breakfast buffet and Dorian is craving some donuts or muffins”

“Dorian, huh?” he laughed. “Then we should get up if you don't want Dorian getting angry because you don't feed him”

“Okay, okay, okay…” I sighed, sitting slowly and stretching my arms. “Should I put on that dress you bought me?”

“I think you should wear it on race day” he smiled. “Today you should get comfortable, you know how it is…”

“Yeah…” I sighed. “Thank God I brought my laptop and a book”

“A book I'm sure you'll end it today” he teased me.

“Then you'll have to buy me a new one” I teased him back, pecking his lips before getting out of the bed.

He laughed and fell back to the bed, grabbing his phone and snapping pictures of me while I walked around the hotel room in one of his shirts.

One of the things we wanted to do with the pregnancy was taking pictures of the belly, simply to see how it grows until the day Dorian arrives. We will make an album with all the pictures and keep it as a memory, as a witness of how we fell in love thanks to the baby.

“I should wear something from my sponsors, right?” I said, looking at the clothes I brought to Bahrain.

“Sure” he nodded. “The maternity jeans make your ass look amazing. Oh, and you should wear that white shirt that is so flowy…”

“Since when do you give fashion advice?” I tease, but my smile falters. He always finds a way to lighten the mood when I need it most, reminding me why we work so well together. “May I remind you when you used tight jeans? Or those red jeans you liked to use on Saturdays”

“Those red jeans were my lucky charm!” He grinned, making me shake my head.

“Lucky charm? Please, they were cursed.” I laughed, throwing him a teasing look.

“At least my fans loved it…”

“Yeah, sure” I chuckled.

“You are so mean” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Oh, but you fell for this mean ass, Charlie” I smirked. “Thank God now I'm the lucky charm, huh?”

“Actually… Yeah” he smiled looking at me, sitting on the bed and reached for me with his hand, making me walk towards the edge of the bed when he sat there, standing between his legs. “You are my lucky charm, Dafne. Just knowing that you will be in my garage, to cheer for me and keep my feet in the ground, put me in my place when I need it… I know I'll do everything right with you by my side”

I smiled looking down at him, cupping his face with both of my hands. I leaned on him, pressing my lips on his forehead and smiling against his skin, sighing softly.

“I love you” I whispered, brushing his cheekbones with my thumbs. “We love you so much, Charlie. Never forget that”

The card was laying on my lap, the face print on it looking back at me.

“Is there something wrong, Daf?” Charles asked next to me, placing his hand in my thigh and squeezing it softly.

“N-no…” I sighed. “It's…”

“I know” he sighed. “I know. I know it's hard for you, babe…”

I nodded and sighed, holding his hand and placing it on my belly, looking out of the window of the car. .

I have to get used to it. It's what I have to do now, stand next to him and support him, making sure he wins everything.

“I have to deal with this” I sighed. “Now this is what I am, huh? Your wag. I…”

“Hey, look at me” he smiled. “You are not only that, okay? You can be more, what about your influencer side? You can make things with that…”

“But… that's not what I was made for” I whispered. “The influencer thing was something that came with me being a driver…”

“You can influence other girls to get into racing” he said. “Dafne, I know the pregnancy wasn't planned, I won't stop apologizing, I swear. But… Please, I don't want you to be sad because of it. I just want you to be happy, doing what you love. And I’ll always be here to support you, whatever you choose."”

I took a deep breath and smiled weakly, knowing that he was speaking from the bottom of his heart, and the soft kicks on belly tell me that our baby supports what his father says.

“Okay” I nodded, sighing softly. “Yeah, I'll… I guess I can talk with my manager”

He smiled and nodded, patting my belly softly, making me chuckle. The tension eased between us, but the knot in my stomach didn’t. I knew the week ahead would be filled with reminders of what I’ve lost.

When he parked the car he looked at me for some seconds before getting out of the car and walking all the way to my side, opening the door and looking down at me.

“You ready?” he smiled, offering me his hand to hold.

I nodded slowly and held his hand, getting out of the car with his help while I held my belly, smiling at him. He smirked softly and pecked my lips before grabbing the backpack he left at the feet of my seat.

“Let's go” he smiled, holding my hand tightly and walking away. “Do you want me to carry your bag?”

“Would you?” I smiled softly looking at him.

“Of course” he smiled, holding the bag and hanging it on his shoulder.

I walked next to him, holding his hand and looking at him from time to time while we walked towards the barriers where fans were calling our names. I stood next to Charles, paying attention to the fans that called me and being surprised with little bags and boxes.

“This is for the baby! Is it a girl or a boy?”

“We will announce it soon” I smiled, looking at the group of fans that were giving me gifts. “We wanted to keep it for us for a while, but we are ready to make it public”

“We can't wait!”

I smiled at them and then looked at Charles, who was holding as many gifts as I was holding. He smiled softly at me, still charging my bag on his shoulder, while his left hand was busy with the bags.

“Love, do you want me to take the bags you have and put them in the car?” I whispered when I got closer to him.

“Don't worry” he smiled. “I want to open the gifts with you while I have free time today”

“Oh, really?” I smiled.

“Yeah! And maybe we can finally post the gender reveal, huh?” he smiled, wrapping his free arm around my shoulders and kissing my cheek. “They asked me too about the gender”

“Then I guess it's time to say it” I smiled softly, looking at him.

He chuckled, kissing my temple as we walked towards the paddock doors, holding the ID card in my hand, and feeling the beating of my heart in my ears, reading on the screen different words from what I'm used to under a picture of myself.

Scuderia Ferrari

Dafne Morelli

Guest

I sighed, pushing the bar with my hand and walked through the gate, mechanics shouted, tools clanged, and engines roared—familiar sounds, but now they felt like echoes of a past life. A rush of warmth hit me, but it wasn’t the Bahrain sun, it was the bittersweet feeling of home I wasn’t sure I belonged to anymore.

“Here we go” I sighed, holding Charles hand when he stood next to me.

“It will be okay” he smiled, squeezing my hand softly. “Just relax, yeah? Smile and laugh, think about the dinner you'll have once we get back in the hotel”

“Hey, don't tease a pregnant woman that way” I laughed softly.

He smiled and squeezed his hand softly around mine, walking through the paddock and the bunch of photographers that went crazy the moment they saw us.

I looked at Charles, smiling softly at him as he squeezed my hand when the cameras started to capture pictures of us together, holding hands, with all the rivalry we held during the previous seasons completely vanished.

Some drivers walked towards us, most of them clearly surprised to see us together. The new rookies, Ollie and Kimi, were surprised to see me there with Charles.

“Never in my life I imagined I could see this” Ollie laughed softly looking at me, making me roll my eyes.

“Well, get used to it” I chuckled. “How is the new season, huh? Haas is taking care of you?”

“Yeah, they are nice” he nodded.

“And Esteban?” I smiled fakely.

“Yeah… You already know the answer” he sighed, smiling weakly.

“I still owe him a punch in the face” I said, half joking. “If you need anything, you know you can tell me, okay? Both of you”

“Yeah, sure” Kimi and Ollie smiled.

I smiled proudly looking at them. Last season, Ollie took my seat in a race because of a lesion I had after crashing in a practice, hurting my shoulder and making me feel pain every time I moved my arm. And since that moment, Ollie became my protegé.

“How's the baby going, by the way?” Ollie asked me, smiling softly while he looked at my belly.

“He's calm” I smiled, biting my lip.

“He? Is a boy? No way!” both rookies exclaimed.

“Ahhh! We haven't announced it yet!” Charles and I laughed. “We will post the reveal today”

I smiled at Charles and kissed his cheek, wrapping my arm around him. We waved goodbye to both rookies and started our way towards the hospitality, meeting other drivers and people we knew and stopping to talk with them.

When we finally entered the Ferrari building, everyone inside of it looked at us surprised. Or more like, surprised to see me.

“Oh my God, Dafne!”

I smiled softly, watching the people that were on my team last year walk towards me, opening their arms to hug me.

“I missed you, guys” I smiled softly, with emotion filling my voice.

“God, we're so happy you are okay” one of my old mechanics said. “And you look more beautiful than ever”

“Yeah… Pregnancy glow up, I guess” I chuckled, rubbing my belly softly.

“How far are you?” one of them asked.

“Six months” I smiled.

“Six months… Monza!” they gasped.

“Yeah…” I chuckled, blushing deeply when I connected my gaze with Charles', watching him smile proudly.

“Good to know the disaster of that night turned into something better” they chuckled.

I smiled weakly and nodded, reaching Charles' hand and squeezing it twice. He smiled and kissed my temple, understanding immediately that I wanted to go somewhere to be at peace.

We walked upstairs towards the rooms, and the moment I saw Lewis's name written on the door of what used to be my room, I felt my heart clenching tightly in my chest. I took a deep breath, faking a smile when Charles looked at me worried.

“I'm okay, really. Don't worry” I whisper. “I just need to sit”

“Dafne…”

“My back is killing me. Please, open the Goddamn door” I whisper.

He sighed and nodded, opening the door and walking in after me. He placed the bags with gifts in the bed next to me and my bag on the chair.

“Do you want to open some gifts before I go to the conference?” he asked, sitting next to me and rubbing my back.

“Yeah, I guess” I smiled softly.

He sighed, rubbing my back gently and letting me rest my head on his shoulder.

“I know this is too much for you… I really know it” he whispered. “But… Please, do this for me?”

“I know, I'm trying” I whisper. “But please, understand how I'm feeling… Do you understand how bad and betrayed I felt when they never reached for me? How… How easy it was for them to put Hamilton in my seat. They knew every way to get in touch with me, but they never tried… I just feel that they were already talking on my back, getting a deal done while I was still in the team, and the moment I needed to be away, they took the opportunity to call him and make it official”

“I know, love, I know” he sighed. “I'm disappointed with that too…”

“Then, please… Just… Give me time to get used to this” I sighed. “To… To see him driving my car”

“Of course, my love” he whispered, kissing my forehead. “And you'll always have me here to talk about this, okay? I'll always be here whenever you need to get your frustrations out”

smiled at him through the tears I refused to let fall. Even though everything had changed, I knew I still had him. And for now, that had to be enough.

charles_leclerc, dafnemorelli

liked by dafnemorelli, pierregasly olliebearman and 671.571 others

charles_leclerc The last month has been a huge rollercoaster of emotions. And, because I love my family and I don't want any of you creating fake narratives to hurt us, I want to explain everything.

Yes. I did have something with Melanie. But that situationship ended, at least to me, the moment I saw her with another man in my bed. After that, I cut contact with her. I realized that what I had with her was something toxic that hurt me, financially and mentally.

With the recent news of her supposed pregnancy, she decided to come to where my family was, interrupting the peace of my home, to break the news and blame me for getting her pregnant, which ended in a lie. I set up a lawsuit against her, making sure she stays away from me and my family, as well as demanding a fake pregnancy to steal my own money and break my own family.

Dafne and I are better than ever. I love her from the bottom of my heart, and things like this make me realize that fighting for her and for my family is everything I have to do to make myself happy in this life.

So, please. Me and my family would appreciate it if you respect us. Please, believe me when I say that it would mean the world to me.

comments are not allowed

dafnemorelli, charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman, oscarpiastri and 827.279 others

dafnemorelli Dear son:

I can't wait to meet you. I know that it took me a while to accept your existence because I knew the consequences of having you, but now I can't help it and dream every night with the moment you are finally in my arms.

Your dad and I are so happy to know that you are a healthy baby that is constantly reminding us that we are drivers because you are all the time thinking you are pressing the gas pedal against my ribs. The first moment we heard your heart beat, we cried of happiness, watching on a screen how you were warm and safe in my womb, growing constantly until the time of coming arrives.

Everyone here is so excited to finally meet you, you will be so loved. You have the best people in the world waiting for you, to hold you and hove you love and joy.

Dorian Jules Hervé Leclerc, we can't wait to have you in our arms, to hold you and kiss you, to show you how much we love you. We promise to keep you safe and happy.

show all comments

charles_leclerc Can't want to have our son finally with us

arthur_leclerc I'm starting a bet. Who says Charles will cry during labor? 🙋🏻 soleil_morelli 🙋🏼‍♀️ ericamorelli 🙋🏻‍♀️ maxverstappen1 🙋🏻 pierregasly 🙋🏼 scuderiaferrari 🙋🏻‍♂️ F1 🙋🏻‍♂️ charles_leclerc 🙋🏻 I'm not hiding, I know I will dafnemorelli oh my god😂

pierregasly Dorian will be the happiest baby in the world because he will have the coolest uncle ever

oscarpiastri which is me, of course pierregasly Eh… no? olliebearman Of course it will be me, guys landonorris Guys come on, the coolest uncle will be me, I have experience in that subject, just ask my nieces carlossainz55 you all are so wrong

f1 we're already making posts about baby Leclerc! Can't wait to see him in the paddock

scuderiaferrari that baby is the tifosiest tifosi that have ever existed! Can't wait to send Ferrari baby merch to Dorian!!!

charles_leclerc tifosiest tifosi😂😂😂 scuderiaferrari I mean, it's true dafnemorelli I approve it! Please make a onesie with those words. I need it. Newborn size, please scuderiaferrari Sir, yes sir🫡

dafneismymom IT'S A BOY!!! OMG I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE BABY LECLERC!!!!

fewawifan uh… did someone notice that the baby won't have Dafne's surname? He will have Charles’... As if they were, you know… 💍👩🏻‍❤️‍👨🏻🤵🏻👰🏻‍♀️👀 sharlesperceval fewawifan OH SHIT!!!! sharlesfan DID SOMEONE NOTICE THE RING???? SHE NEVER HAD THAT RING BEFORE

The sound of the cars always brought me adrenaline. No matter how loud they were, it always made me smile wide. I always enjoyed going to watch other races to study the track and how it worked the race day, waking up early to be there and cheer for the inferior categories, making time to stop by and congratulate the winners before I had to do my own race. And after the races, I went to the hospitality to take notes of all the things I noticed during the races to tell them to my engineers.

“People say that babies remember what they hear when they are in the womb, you know?” Charles said, pulling down his phone after taking a few pictures of the Formula 2 cars that just crossed the line.

“Oh, really?” I chuckled, rubbing my belly. “Then I guess Dorian will know how a car sounds, huh?”

“Oh yeah” he laughed. “This baby will dream with cars. And I couldn't be happier because of that”

“Careful, maybe we are raising a future champion” I teased him. “I bet he would be better than his father…”

“I wouldn't be mad, actually” he laughed. “I would be so proud of him, no matter what he does”

I smiled softly, holding his hand and kissing his cheek while we walked towards the podium ceremony, waiting for the drivers to step on it. Charles stood behind me, hugging me and rubbing my belly softly, kissing the back of my head.

“What do you want to do today?” he whispered in my ear. “Will you watch the race in the garage with the team or in the hospitality with my brothers?”

“I'm the garage, always” I chuckled. “The question is offensive”

“Hey, I was just wondering” he chuckled. “But yeah, I'll make sure they put a chair for you, so you can be comfortable, okay?”

“That would be lovely, babe” I smiled, leaning on him.

After the podium ceremony of Formula 2, I walked with him towards the hospitality, watching him getting ready and helping him with whatever he needed.

Being in the hospitality brought me anxiety whenever I crossed paths with Lewis or Fred, with voices in my head teasing me, telling me that I was betrayed and they did everything in my back, reminding me how easy it was for the team to get used to Lewis. No matter how gentle or friendly Lewis could be, the last three days I kept my distance with him, only nodding at him whenever he greeted me.

“You are pouting” Charles teased.

“What? No, I'm not” I frowned.

“Yes, you are” he chuckled. “Come on, you miss that much being in the suit? I have to confess that sometimes I have dreams of you wearing it again, only to remember how good your ask looked with it”

“Charles!” I gasped, throwing him a pillow and aiming to his face. “Oh God, you are stupid!”

“What? I was telling the truth! The suit made your ass look so amazing! You have an idea of how many times I had to slap other drivers whenever they looked at you? A lot!” he laughed, making me blush and look away.

“Idiot” I groaned, biting my lip. “But I have to say that feels good knowing that I was the wet dream of many drivers”

“Oh, yeah, you were” he laughed. “But now I'm the only one that can have wet dreams of you, so you'll have to settle with that”

“Mhm, I do” I chuckled.

He laughed, throwing back his head, making me smile. I rubbed my belly gently, looking at him while hearing his laugh. I would love it if our baby had his laugh, as well as his smile.

“Are you ready?” he asked me. “Come on. let’s have something for lunch before I head to the garage and plan the strategies”

I smiled softly, nodding and holding his hand while we walked out the room. In the Ferrari hospitality there was most of the time past for lunch, or even pizza, something that always was good for the race days. When I raced I always had pasta carbonara with a small plate of carrot and cucumber with hummus, and always tried to drink water whenever I could, carrying a bottle with a straw under my arm all the time.

“What do you think about today’s race?” I asked him, smiling when the plate of pasta carbonara was placed in front of me by a waitress, making me smile and nod at him.

“Well, starting third is not bad” he nodded, sighing. “And like last season, McLaren is strong too. Red Bull is not a threat anymore, so in that part I’m happy. Mercedes looks good too, Kimi started this season pretty good, but I think they won’t be a problem for us neither”

“So it’s McLaren against Ferrari, then” I nodded.

I brought the fork with the past to my mouth and smiled, chewing it and sighing happily. As always, Ferrari has the best restaurant service.

“Oh, I was thinking about something, and I wanted to comment it with you” I said, taking a deep breath, cleaning my lips with a napkin.

“What is it?” he smiled looking at me.

“Well… When the other day you told me about doing something with my influence on girls that come into racing, I talked with my sister Erica” I smiled. “When I told them that I was going to retire from racing, I asked them to go find drivers in the F1 Academy. And I was thinking about, well, talking with Susie Wolff and somehow being a part of the academy”

“That would be amazing, Dafne” he smiled, holding my hand across the table. “I’m sure they would be so excited with that. Having you with them will be so important. If you need it, I will help you with that”

I smiled softly at him, feeling my heart beating fast for him, somehow excited for this new start in my career.

We had lunch together and after that I went to his room to get some things ready while he had meetings and the driver’s parade, as well as getting the car ready in the starting grid. When it was time to go to the garage, Charles walked in the room to get changed into his racing suit and do some warmups.

“I put a high chair for you on my side of the garage, as well as a bottle of water and a set of headphones” he said, kissing my forehead.

“Thank you, love” I smiled softly, closing my eyes when I felt his lips on my skin.

We walked together towards the garage, and I smiled when I saw the chair he mentioned with a bottle of water on top of it with the headset that will help me follow his race. I chuckled, holding his hand and sitting on the hair chair with his help, smiling at him when he put the headset on my head, chuckling softly when he kissed my lips softly.

“I’ll come back to you, okay?” he smiled, placing his hand on my belly and rubbing it softly. “With a trophy”

“Go beat everyone’s asses” I chuckled against his lips.

Before I knew it, the hum of the crowd surrounded me as I sat on the edge of the chair, watching the Bahrain Grand Prix unfold before my eyes. I could feel the vibrations of the engines through my body as the cars lined up on the grid. It was surreal being here, watching from the other side of the fence, no longer the one buckling myself into a car.

Charles was in the car, visor down, completely in the zone. I’d seen that look on his face a hundred times before, but today, it filled me with a strange mix of pride and anxiety. I wasn’t the one driving, but I still felt every ounce of tension in my muscles, the way I used to before the lights went out.

The sound of the engines roared to life, filling the air with a deafening crescendo as the cars drove off the grid. I instinctively leaned forward, my heart racing with them, watching Charles' red Ferrari as he made a clean getaway. He held onto third position going into the first corner, battling wheel-to-wheel with Oscar. It was good, a solid start. I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Come on, Charles,” I whispered under my breath. My fingers absentmindedly traced circles on my belly. The baby was quiet, and for a moment, I wondered if they could feel the energy around us too.

As the race unfolded, Charles was pushing hard, but so was Oscar, and behind him, Max was closing the gap. I could see the strain in Charles' driving, the tightness in his lines as he tried to defend his position. Every corner felt like a potential turning point. One mistake, and it could all go wrong.

By lap 20, Charles was holding onto second, having overtaken Oscar with a beautiful move into Turn 10, and my heart leaped. I couldn’t help but smile, proud as hell of him. He was driving with such precision, so smooth. I knew how much this race meant to him, the start of the season, the chance to finally take home a win in Bahrain.

But then, things started to change. The tires. I could see it on the screens before the radio even confirmed it. Charles was losing grip, his times dropping lap by lap. Lando was extending his lead, and Oscar was creeping closer. My chest tightened. I hated this part, knowing something was slipping away and being utterly powerless to stop it.

The mechanics sprung into action after Charles was called in to box, their movements swift and practiced, but I could see it in their eyes too. The strategy was slipping through their fingers, and they were trying to hold on. Charles came in for his stop, the tires swapped in what felt like a blink, but as he rejoined the track, Oscar had jumped him in the pits. Third.

“Come on, love, you’ve got this,” I muttered under my breath, hoping somehow my words could reach him through the roar of the engines and the noise of the crowd.

The laps ticked down, and while Charles was pushing -God, was he pushing- he couldn’t close the gap to Oscar. Ladno was long gone, and now the fight was between Charles and Max for the final podium spots. I could see the frustration building in him. He was trying everything, braking late, taking tighter lines, but it wasn’t enough. The tires just weren’t holding up.

With two laps to go, Max was right on his tail, and I knew this was going to be a dogfight to the finish. My heart pounded in my chest as they went side-by-side into Turn 1. Charles defended brilliantly, but it was costing him time, and I could hear the tension in the engineers’ voices as they relayed data to him.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. It was so hard to watch. I knew that feeling, that helplessness of knowing you’re giving everything, and it still might not be enough.

The final lap came, and my breath caught in my throat as Charles and Max fought all the way down to the final corner. The Ferrari fans were on their feet, shouting, willing Charles to hold onto third.

But Max got him. It was so close. My stomach dropped as I watched Charles cross the line in fourth.

He hadn’t won. He hadn’t even made the podium.

The garage was silent for a beat, everyone processing the outcome. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to breathe. My heart ached for him. I knew how much this hurt, how much he’d wanted this.

I watched as Charles pulled into the pit lane, his helmet still on as he climbed out of the car. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the disappointment radiating off him.

The crowd’s cheers for the podium finishers were a dull roar in the background as I made my way over to him. He pulled off his helmet and wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes finding mine as I approached. Without a word, I wrapped my arms around him, resting my head on his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. He hugged me back tightly, and for a moment, the world around us disappeared.

“I’m sorry” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Charles. You drove brilliantly.” I pulled back slightly, looking up at him.

He sighed, his frustration evident, but he nodded, his hand moving to rest gently on my belly.

“For you and the baby” he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

“We’re both so proud of you” I whispered, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek. “There’ll be other races. You’ll get your win.”

“I hope so.” he smiled weakly, his eyes softening as he looked at me.

We stood there for a moment longer, just the two of us, before the noise of the paddock started to filter back in. The season was long, and there would be more chances. But for now, we had each other. And that was enough.

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thesunisatangerine · 1 year ago

Text

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 4.3k

It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either.

Depending on her schedule, you saw Alexia once or twice at most a week; most of the time it was on the night after a Barcelona match and by the next morning, she’d be gone before you even woke up. But you’d noticed her visits had been increasing in frequency lately, not to mention that sometimes she’d still be in bed when you awakened. The first time you found her still asleep beside you, you were dumbfounded, thinking it was a dream image of her in front of you. And what amazed you even further was that it kept happening.

It wasn’t an unpleasant development. In fact, it was something you gratefully welcomed. And it wasn’t just that, either. Sometimes when Alexia came over, you didn’t even have sex you just… talked: about her training and her health, her teammates’ shenanigans–and hers, of course–her family and bits of her personal life. Meanwhile you told her about places you explored and showed her photos of where you’d been. Then she’d tell you about places you could check out, food to try, and even went ahead and promised to take you to some of the places herself when she had the opportunity.

These times were rare, sure, but you found yourself enjoying her company more and more to the point you noticed yourself craving for it–found yourself missing her presence despite your constant back-and-forth messages. And still you didn’t ask where this was going for fear of ruining whatever the two of you had; you were content and you just simply wanted to watch this unfold as it was. And anyway, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to fleeting relationships, situationships–whatever you’d like to call it–because who was to say this wouldn’t end up like your previous dalliances–ending before it could ever truly begin? Despite you hoping otherwise, a large part of you already convinced yourself that this wouldn’t be anything different: just another highlight to your getaway vacation that you’d look fondly back on a few years down the line.

You had a month left in Barcelona, maybe an additional few weeks depending on the client. What could possibly go wrong?

———

A knock took your attention from your work to the door. You looked at the time–it was early evening on a Saturday and you weren’t expecting anyone. Perhaps you just imagined it? But then it came again not a minute later. You were reluctant to open it seeing as it was already dark but a ping from your phone that signalled a message from Alexia asking if you were home had you flying to the door.

Upon opening it, you found Alexia there with Nala resting in the crook of her arm, phone in hand, and a paper bag in the other.

“Took you long enough.” Alexia said playfully, all cool and confident but then her brows quirked upwards almost sheepishly as she said in a more tamed tone, “is this a bad time? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

You smiled at her consideration before you ushered her in. “No, no! It’s fine, really! Come on in. Sorry, I just wasn’t comfortable opening the door when it’s dark without knowing who it was.”

“Ah, it’s my bad. I should’ve let you know before dropping by.” She bent down and let Nala loose before she untied her shoes and left them by the door. Nala bounded to the living charged with curiosity, nose to the ground, tail wagging as she carefully examined the new space.

Alexia regarded her dog with an amused expression before she looked back at you. “I meant to bring this over after the game tomorrow but I saw the lights as I drove past so… here I am, I guess.”

You reassured her again as you locked the door behind her and you watched as she made her way to the kitchen. As you passed through the archway to the kitchen room, Alexia already situated herself by the counter taking out glass canisters from the paper bag she brought. When she took the lids off, a delicious aroma instantly filled the air, enticing your senses.

“What do you have there?” You asked as you leaned on the opposite side of the counter.

Alexia smiled at the eagerness in your tone and pride shone in her eyes as she spoke, “only the best fideuà and esqueixada in the world. Made special by my mother, of course.”

You peered into the containers and the sight made your mouth water instantly. As if it remembered that you hadn’t had any food yet, your stomach grumbled obnoxiously. Alexia definitely heard it because she fixed you with an amused smile and at that, your cheeks warmed so you tried to divert her attention. “You know what would put this all together?”

“What?”

“Wine or champagne. Wait–are you allowed to drink?”

“I’m allowed since I’m still not qualified to play yet.” Her visage became somber for a moment–it fleeted so quickly you almost didn’t catch it–before the light in them returned again. “If you have it, white wine is the best complement for this.”

You hummed and tapped your chin, turning to make your way to the cellar. “I’ll have a look. I’m sure Derek has some wine stored in here somewhere.”

You’d mumbled the last part but it seemed Alexia’d caught it because she asked, “who’s Derek?”

Something odd in her tone stopped you and made you look back at her. Her face was unreadable, almost too neutral. She didn’t think Derek was your boyfriend, did she?

“Oh, Derek’s my brother. He hasn’t been here for a while but he owns this house.”

“Ah, I see,” Alexia cleared her throat, looking away and you could just see a hint of redness in her cheeks. “Well, I’ll lay out the plates. I suppose they’re just in...?”

“The bottom drawer to your right and the utensils are in the upper one.” You instructed as you continued towards the cellar.

“Oh, yeah, I see,” came Alexia’s muffled response.

When you returned with the bottle of white wine, you found that Alexia managed to locate the glasswares by herself and were drying them with a tea towel. There was only one set of plate and utensils laid out though so you fixed her with a confused look.

“You’re not going to eat?”

Alexia shook her head. “I already had my fill with my family earlier. I’ll take the drink, though.”

“That’s nice that you visited your family today. How are they?” You sat at one of the high chairs by the counter, popped the wine open and poured each of you a glass. You noticed that Alexia’d heated up the fideuà for you from the steam that rose from its container which strengthened its aroma and made it all the more enticing. Alexia remained opposite you but she was close enough with her leaning forward on her elbows, her glass of wine in hand.

She sipped her wine and told you they were well, described little snippets of what’s been happening in her family life. She even told you about a prank she recently played on her sister, one that nearly made you choke on your wine.

You listened as she talked, liking the way her brows quirked and her shoulders move as she spoke, how each gesture became more pronounced the more passionate or interested she was on a subject. You asked questions and engaged with the conversation every now and again as you savoured the rich taste of the pasta and the freshness of the salad. You’d never had anything like it and you told her as much. In response, she said she’d give the compliment to her mother when she saw her next which made your cheeks warm up again. Once you finished, you tidied up and though you insisted she didn’t have to, Alexia helped you wash up anyway.

Afterwards, the both of you ended up in the living room with your glasses of wine. She gestured at your laptop on the couch with her glass.

“Work?”

“Yeah. Just double checking if I missed anything important and preparing for the match tomorrow.” You sat on the couch and put the laptop on your lap. Alexia opted to sit on the carpet, legs stretched and crossed, back leaned back against the couch, her head just beside your legs as Nala settled by her side.

She turned her head, looking up at you. “Can I see?”

You turned your laptop so she could see better. You flicked through the photos you were sorting through, explaining to her every now and then the thought process behind each shot. On some photos, Alexia asked you to pause so she could soak them in.

“These are great. You have a great eye.” Alexia complimented with an appraising nod as you got to the end. You thanked her as you pulled back. Then a question came to mind.

“Do you ever get used to it? The cameras, I mean.”

A pause.

“I’m not and I don’t think I ever will. I’m more comfortable with it now but if it’s possible to avoid, I’d do it. I know it’s a part of football and god knows how much more exposure women’s football needs,” Alexia released a heavy sigh, “but sometimes it just gets too much, you know? I mean, I really should be grateful, right? To have gotten to this point? But the media side of it is… not without its own set of miseries.”

There was an inflection in her tone upon her admittance–guilt. You gently carded your fingers through her hair, Alexia leaned into your touch in response, and you replied just as softly, “it must’ve been difficult. It still is and for you, especially. And I don’t know if anyone’s told you lately but you have to know: you’ve given so much of yourself already. It’s not a sin to want a little peace, Alexia, and it doesn’t make you ungrateful for wanting it, it just makes you human.”

Alexia took a deep breathe before she rested her temple against your knee. Then you heard her whisper, “thank you.”

A silence fell upon the both of you after that but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. She remained that way for the majority of the night, head against your knee as she watched a game of football on the TV.

By the time you finished up your work, it was already late evening and Alexia’d dozed off beside you. You felt bad as you gently woke her up and groggy hazel eyes found yours when you did. The sight made your heart ache from how much Alexia looked younger and more at peace this way, and you told her to wash up so she could stay the night.

And she did.

Now, your cheek felt warm against her chest despite the slight dampness of her borrowed shirt from her hair. Her skin smelt faintly of the soap you were using and with her arm around your waist, you fell asleep content, lulled to a deep slumber by the steady rhythm of her heart.

———

“Hey, please don’t wear that, it’s dirty,” came Alexia’s reprimand from behind you.

You glanced at her reflection in the mirror: Alexia was propped up on the pillows against the headboard, an arm behind her head, nude except for the bundle of sheets that covered one of her thighs, the marks you’d left on her neck and chest last night and this morning generously displayed for you to behold.

She was nothing short of glorious, you thought, looking relaxed and content like this.

You turned your attention back to your own reflection: Alexia’s Barcelona jersey draped over your smaller frame and fell just partway down your bare thighs. It felt comfortable against your skin and the fact that it smelt just like Alexia made it feel all the more special.

When you looked at her reflection again, you found her with an affectionate smile, eyes lidded and brows inflected slightly upwards, and suddenly the attention warmed your cheeks.

“But you only wore it for a shoot, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hummed, “do you need it?”

“No, I have spares,” she replied before she raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“That means I have time to wash it before I give it back since you insists that it’s dirty.” You said drily as you turned away from the mirror and padded your way to the bed, crawling on the sheets on your knees once you got there.

As soon as you got close enough, Alexia’s hands were immediately on you, guiding you to straddle her lap before she embraced you fully, resting her chin between the valley of your breasts as she looked up at you. You carded your fingers through her hair to see those fair, hazel eyes that never failed to make you shiver.

“I didn’t say you have to hurry. Plus… I kinda like seeing my number on you.” And then she was kissing your neck and you felt one of her hand creeping its way down to cup your ass. You gasped when you felt the heat of her fingers brushing against your core and you buried your own in her hair as she traced a path from your throat to your ear with her tongue, nipping at your lobe when she got there.

“Fuck… Alexia…” You moaned, “you’re insatiable.”

She kissed your shoulder and then she whispered, “only for you.”

———

Something flashed from the corner of your eye followed immediately by a string of whispered curses and a familiar whirring sound. You put your thumb over the line you were just reading so you wouldn’t lose your place before you looked over your bare shoulder to the corner of the room you knew Alexia was who you found, as expected, holding one of your Polaroid cameras.

She was only wearing a pair of grey sweats which left her torso bare and–like all the time you saw her nude–you couldn’t help but appreciate the soft curves of her breasts and the carved muscles of her stomach. When she met your gaze, she smiled almost sheepishly at you not dissimilar to a child being caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You raised a playful eyebrow at her but instead of answering, she placed her eye over the viewfinder, aimed the camera at you, then pressed the shutter again.

The film came out with a whir and Alexia immediately tucked it into the pocket of her sweats. She then began to make her way towards you and at every other step, she’d stop to take a photo of you, carefully manoeuvring the camera to get the right angle as she did so. It was an endearing sight, really, and it was one that filled your chest full of warmth.

Eventually, she ended up on you, turning you over on your back as she straddled your waist, leaving you at the mercy of Alexia and her camera. From this position, you couldn’t help but feel extremely vulnerable and exposed not because of your bareness, but because you knew with the way your chest surged with warmth from how Alexia gazed down at you with a satisfied grin, the dimple on her cheek showing as her tongue peeked out between her teeth at the corner of her mouth, seemingly focused on getting the right shot, that this was a woman who had the power to completely and utterly unravel you.

As a photographer, you were well acquainted with how cameras had the capacity to capture the essence of a moment–to display in raw details the emotions of its subject and freeze them in time, readying them for the dissection and scrutiny of the viewer. You wondered then what Alexia would see written in the shadow, the light, and the colours in the photos she just took of you once she looked at them, and the thought both elated and frightened you.

Alexia brushed away hair from your temple but as she was about to pull away, you put yours atop of hers and turned your cheek into her palm, looking directly at her behind the camera. You heard her breath catch and then she stuttered out a breath, and the flash barely registered in your mind because you were too focused on the strength and the warmth of Alexia’s hand as you pressed butterfly kisses on the inside of her palm.

The next thing you knew, the camera was abandoned completely and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out from your throat when you finally felt Alexia’s lips on yours.

———

Alexia sat on one of the high chairs in the kitchen room, hair damp, a game of football on the mounted TV that was left forgotten in place of… something that you couldn’t quite see from this distance. Alexia’s shoulders were hunched over in concentration and you didn’t have the heart to interrupt whatever she was doing so you leaned on the archway, content with just observing her do her work.

“Are you just gonna stand there or would you care to join me?” You rolled your eyes and you didn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. So much for being sneaky–the fact that Alexia was an accomplished footballer who had crazy spatial awareness occasionally slipped your mind.

“Okay, Gwen Stacy, calm down.” Alexia looked over her shoulder then and stuck her tongue out at you, grinning. “How did you even know I was here?”

“Your reflection on the microwave.” She gestured to it with her chin and sure enough from this angle you were instantly visible especially with the white shirt you had on. The dark glossy surface almost made you look like a ghost.

Standing on your toes, you draped yourself over her broad back, arms wrapping loosely around her neck as you peered down. “So, what are we working on?”

“This.”

A bracelet made of a dark-blue and red string that looped into itself with a singular, small gold diamond-shaped charm right in the middle, a vertical bar at the two corner points of the long edge of the diamond, dangled between Alexia’s fingers. She took your right hand and placed it in your palm so you could look at it: the bracelet was simple but it’s delicate nature made it all the more beautiful and elegant.

“Oh, wow, this is so pretty.”

“It’s for you.” At that you looked at her, half-afraid that she’d feel the way your heart raced at her words against her back.

You were so busy trying to find the right thing to say that you didn’t realise that she took the bracelet back until you felt the warmth of her fingers on your palm as she turned your hand over. You watched her as she wrapped it around your wrist, securing the tie. You turned your right wrist over and looked at the delicate bracelet, and something in your heart soared at the small gift. The fact that Alexia made it herself made it all the more special to you.

“Thank you, Alexia. I love it.”

“You’re welcome.”

That night while you were sufficiently warm nestled by Alexia’s side, naked except for the sheets, your head on her chest, a realisation hit you.

“It represents FC Barcelona, isn’t it?”

Alexia hummed in answer, the rumble from the sound a pleasant sensation on your cheek. Then she held your wrist in the space between her thumb and index finger, the width of her palm supporting your hand as she turned your hand just so so the gold of the diamond could catch the light.

“And what else?”

At that, you looked at the bracelet intently. The two bars: one and one–Alexia’s number. So she really was serious when she said she liked seeing her number on you.

You let out a small laugh, then you nuzzled her jaw as you spoke, “you little sneak.”

———

Minding her bad knee, you flipped the both of you over with a strength that even surprised yourself and with how Alexia’s brows raised high, you supposed it took her off guard, too. You settled your weight on her stomach and you bit your lip when you felt her abs tense against your core, and the desire in you blazed into a raging inferno that threatened to burn you inside out.

She grabbed your ass in both hands with a firm grip, making you gasp when her hold made you grind against her stomach, her eyes smouldering as she looked up at you.

That look was your last straw; you couldn’t stop fighting your desire anymore so you let it swallow you whole. You fell forward, bracing your weight against your elbows as you craned your neck to kiss Alexia, rough and desperate, her lower lip between your teeth. The action rewarded you with a low moan, a delicious sound that shot heat straight down to your core.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Alexia gasped out between your relentless kisses.

“I like being on top,” was your simple answer whispered hotly against her ear, nipping gently at the soft skin there–teasing.

Then it was your turn to gasp.

Her fingers dug delightfully into your flesh, kneading your ass roughly before easing them apart with equal force. The harsh treatment caught you by surprise and the effect of it even more unexpected as you immediately melted against her, moaning her name helplessly against the crook of her neck.

She knew just how to make a mess of you.

“Hmm, do you?” She asked coyly and then proceeded in a deliciously low voice that oozed seduction, smugness, and sex. “Too bad I’m still in control.”

“Fuck.” Your body answered for you in a full-body shiver. Her words turned you on to the brink of falling and you found no purchase as you slipped from the ledge.

It should be embarrassing how you could come without Alexia even fucking you, and it should scare you that she had this much power over your body but in this moment, when her hands were everywhere but your pussy and her filthy words were whispered hotly in your ear, you could care less. So you fell apart, shaking and weak, as you sank on top of Alexia’s firm and soft body, her name barely coherent from the sobs that came out of your lips. Euphoria lit every nerve in your body as you came, the fabric of your underwear latched deliciously on your pussy like a second skin and you were sure that you’d made a mess on Alexia’s bare stomach.

You only realised Alexia had stopped her teasing ministrations until you heard her thick voice through the haze of the afterglow which you barely caught.

“You came.”

It wasn’t a question, really, but you let out a small affirmative moan because what else could you do? You were mush–the intensity of your orgasm caught you off guard and left you floundering that no thoughts formed in your mind, just pure bliss and ecstacy. But as the veil of euphoria began to lift, embarrassment bled into the edges of your consciousness and with it the instinct to apologise. The words were poised at the tip of your tongue when Alexia moaned.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” she breathed out and when you found the strength to lift your head to look at her, her eyes were lidded, pupils blown so wide they were almost all black.

And then she was pulling you in for a kiss, and then the wet heat of her tongue traced the edge of your ear, and she was nipping at your jaw while she dragged her palms from your ass to the side of your ribs. Your skin burnt at her touch and you could do nothing but surrender, to moan and whimper as your heat blazed anew despite having just been swept away.

“But this time, you’re going to come with my fingers in you.”

She didn’t even let the words sink in. Instead she wasted no time to slip her hand between your bodies and to push aside the fabric of your ruined underwear. Usually, Alexia liked to tease you and ease her fingers in you slowly as she sought as much reaction from you as she could, but the slick she found there must had been enough to satisfy her because she pushed two fingers in as soon as she found you. The thickness of her fingers slid in easily and you nearly screamed her name from the pleasure.

She was relentless in her endeavour to make her words true with the way she gripped your hip steady with her free hand so you didn’t stray too far from her touch when you moved to meet her thrusts, the pace at which she worked her fingers in you left you lightheaded the same way her teeth on your neck worked to drive you insane.

“Alexia, Alexia, Alexia–” You chanted her name like a holy litany, burying your face into her hair that was now slightly damp with sweat and breathed her in: her scent of sun and freshly cut grass, of faint wintergreen, and an essence that was uniquely hers. The moment left you full with something heavy and warm, something that spoke of and hoped for forever, and clarity washed over you: this wasn’t like one of your previous dalliances anymore because you wanted more with her.

The realisation hit you hard, the gravity of it left your mind in a momentary stasis that when you came back to yourself, the shock of your orgasm knocked the breath from your lungs and you felt yourself being pulled by the tide. So strong was it that you could do nothing but pray the flood wouldn’t take you–that Alexia wouldn’t let you drown.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: i think this is the halfway point guys for this one #ik alexia mentioned somewhere that she has dinner with her family on fridays but for this fic's sake i made it to saturdays lol #also i have a backlog of ideas i wanna start writing but i really wanna finish this one first #just a side note this part is 4.3k #so on aggregate this is officially the longest fanfic id written so far.#hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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the-lazyyy-artist · 4 months ago

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Pairing: Kamo Choso x Fem!Reader Themes: Best friends to Lovers, a lot of teasing (harmless), pining for each other, Modern AU (No Curses) Author's Note: I rediscovered my love for Ariana Grande's goodnight n go and Imogen Heap's Goodnight and Go. Almost the same song, but with different perspectives.

Him

You and Choso. Choso and you.

Ever since he met you, it's always been like that: the two of you, inseparable. But for so many years that he's known you, one word always pops into his mind whenever someone asks him what his best friend was like: a tease.

Always a tease, and he knows it's all just fun and games. But as soon as he realizes that his heart beats a little faster whenever you smile at him, or you jokingly bat your eyes at him, he knows that this isn't platonic anymore... well, for him.

Since you two became friends and eventually, became best of friends, he makes sure that when you're visiting him at his home, you're always taken care of. Yuji would tease the hell out of Choso if he saw his older brother stress out about little things because to him, "she wouldn't like this. She prefers it this way."

When Yuji mentioned this to you one night, you giggled and bumped shoulders with Yuji. "Choso just cares so much about me, Yu~," you said, grinning at Choso, "it makes me think he could be an amazing boyfriend." Choso stopped whatever he was doing for a moment, feeling his face heat up at your words.

"Onii-chan! The food! You might burn it!" Yuji said loudly, laughing at his brother's reaction. You were snickering along, enjoying the blush on Choso's cheeks. You and Yuji walked away once Choso finally collected himself, shrugging at him as you did.

A tease, a harmless one. But you get him every time.

You

Choso and you. You and Choso.

He was so fucking beautiful when you met him, with those pigtails and purple eyes. But, as fate has written it, you two were destined to be just friends.

He was so sweet, so caring, so wonderful, and you can't help yourself but like him more than just a friend. For years, you've dropped little hints, teasing, letting him know that "Hey! I am so, so interested in you!"

You made sure that every time Choso comes over for the weekend, you remind him to bring his comfortable clothes so he can change into those. And at the end of the day, he'd leave them in your place, resulting in him having his own space in your closet. All of his clothes were neatly folded.

But he never stays the night, and so do you whenever you visit him. Once the clock strikes 10, it's time for you to go home, and it was the same for him. It was always bittersweet whenever he left for the night, and it would take another week of waiting to be in his presence again.

One thing you always enjoyed was watching him tense up and blush whenever you gave him kissy faces in the middle of your conversation, or you'd say something stupid like "You'd make such a wonderful boyfriend, Cho!" or "Oh, I could just wife you up with this cooking!" He was always a blushing mess!

But, you two are just friends, and that's just how it is.

Together

Choso waltzed into your apartment, opening the door with the spare key you gave him. "I'm here," he chimed, and he was greeted by the sight of you hunched over the dining table, laptop opened, and brows furrowed. You weren't joking when you told him you were working for the weekend, your remote job requesting you to finish up the contents they need to publish for the next week.

Choso kicked off his shoes and wore the house slippers that you bought for him, purple. He walked towards you and pulled you in for a side hug, your head leaning on his hips. "You look so stressed," he murmured. You looked up at him with a pout, which Choso always liked seeing.

"I'm so tired, I haven't eaten yet," you said. Choso lifted his large hands to massage your head. "I'm here, I'll cook for you," he told you, his voice soft and so caring, so sweet. You closed your eyes as you felt his fingers magically take all your stress away, humming. He was always so good at making you feel better.

In the next hour or so, Choso, who was in his house clothes, was already in the kitchen cooking brunch for both of you while you stayed at the dining table, sighing and cursing at the videos you were editing. Choso would occasionally glance up from what he was doing, checking on you. "You know I could help you with that," he said.

"I know," you respond, "but that would be unfair, wouldn't it?"

Once the food was ready, Choso fed you as you worked. You leaned back on your seat, pulling away from your laptop. "Thank you for doing this, Cho. Although, you know I can feed myself, right? I can just stop working for a while," you told him, your eyes full of gentleness for the man in front of you. He scoffed, a grin on his face. "I know, but you won't be able to enjoy the food. You'll inhale it in one go," he told you, shaking his head.

"I could just kiss you, you know," you said, smirking. Choso tensed up in his seat, his eyes wide, and his cheeks turning red. You giggled at the view, and when he heard you, he frowned and lowered his head. "I'm just kidding," you said, though you know you weren't.

As the day went on, Choso made you tea and sat down beside you, observing you as you worked. He'd lean his head on your shoulder, and instinctively, you'd lean against his hair, catching a hint of his shampoo. His presence was comforting, and it lessened the stress you felt. He'd sometimes then reach out to relax the frown on your brows, which you laughed softly at. He'd massage your nape when he saw you rolling your neck due to exhaustion.

Before the sun has set, you finally submitted everything to your boss, and turned off the laptop, sighing. Choso was leaning forward on the table, his head resting on his folded arms. "All done?" he asked, watching your face. "Yeah, all done."

The rest of the day was spent on the couch, watching movies and snacking on popcorn that he made for the both of you. Then suddenly, it was 10:00.

"Cinderella has to go home now," you joked, but in your mind, you were screaming "Stay, stay longer." Choso stared at you, and maybe it was just you, but there was some kind of sadness in them. Longing? Yearning?

Then he spoke. "Yeah, I have to go."

He walked to your room to change into the clothes he wore when he came and walked back out to see you for the last time tonight. It took a moment for him to peel his eyes away from you as you stood there, bidding him goodbye.

"Good night," he said softly. You smiled. Good night was your goodbye. It was never a goodbye for you two. "Good night, Cho."

After he walked out of the door and for the night, he stood there outside, contemplating that maybe, just maybe, if he made his move tonight, it would change for the better. Unbeknownst to him, you were thinking of the same thing: to follow him out and stop him before he steps into the elevator, and just confess.

And before you could move, you were surprised that the door swung open, a blushing Choso came into view.

"Is... is the kiss still up for grabs?"

You smiled and nodded, running towards him, and meeting him with a kiss.

He stayed the night, all cuddled up on your couch, with the mutual understanding between the two of you that yes, you two would be great together.

Dividers from @saradika

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