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mostly-imagines · 7 months ago

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Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

#these are all wildly different lengths my b #jason todd loves his gf #jason todd the doberman #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd/you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction

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falling-endlessly · 9 months ago

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The Finer Things in Death

Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader

Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

Oh dear, where's your smile?

You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.

In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).

At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?

Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.

Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.

Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.

All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?

Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.

Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.

Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.

Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.

Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.

There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.

It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards, like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.

And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?

Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.

You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.

But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.

Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.

"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.

But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.

Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.

You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.

It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.

Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.

And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?

Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.

And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.

Until one day, when everything went to shit.

****

It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.

You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it.

Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.

You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.

Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.

The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.

You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.

It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."

You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."

"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.

"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.

His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"

You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.

"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.

Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.

A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.

"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."

You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.

"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.

"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.

You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.

A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.

Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.

And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.

Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"

"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"

Splat.

You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"

Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.

When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.

You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"

You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.

The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.

Your soulmate.

What the FUCK.

"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."

There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"

"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him. In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"

As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.

****

You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.

Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—

"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.

"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.

You blinked. What the fuck?

"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.

"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."

You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.

He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.

As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."

Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.

But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."

"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.

There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.

"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.

"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.

"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."

"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"

"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"

He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchanté, ma chère."

You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"

He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."

"What? No, I—"

"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.

You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.

You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion.

"I'm so fucked."

****

Enchanté, ma chère : Charmed, my dear

#hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin #radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x oc #alastor x ofc #alastor x original female character #hell #hazbin alastor #alastor being a menace #alastor being alastor

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sweetnans · 6 months ago

Note

firefighter!katsuki x reader PLEASEE 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

As you wish🪄💫

You knew and everybody did too that you weren't the most appropriate person to cook so you tried baking instead. It turned out that you weren't good either now that your kitchen was on fire.

Thankfully, you were fast on calling 911 and they sent you a firefighters unit to help you out.

A bulky red-haired man entered your house while you tried to extinct the fire with your tiny extinguisher. He grabbed you gently by your shoulders, guiding you out of your house so they could bring all the equipment without you standing in their way.

"I bet they would have been delicious" he gave you the most charming and calming smile.

If only he knew...

You were sitting in one of the trucks. One of the firefighters was taking your statement and checking on you for burns and any sort of wounds. You were dissociating while he tried to make you talk.

In your mind, you thought that, thank god you lived in a house and not in an apartment complex. You couldn't live with the shame after setting your kitchen on fire, having all the people gathered around you for the disaster you made. It wasn't like your neighbors weren't there. The moment that the fire siren made his appearance in the block, the nosy neighbors alerted the others, and now they were all by their windows watching you from afar, in comparison with apartaments, at least they were far away from it and you didn't compromised their houses.

"You can't bake shit"

A tall and muscled man blocked the sun from you and got you out of your thoughts in an instant.

"Excuse me?" You were leaving the haze you induced yourself to keep away the embarrassment from burning down your kitchen while making cookies.

"What he was trying to say is that we extinguished the fire, and everything is perfect. Well, almost... Do you have someone you can stay with?" The red-haired man interrupted the angry blonde.

"Mm yeah, I think so"

The interaction was pretty odd, and you tried to maintain your focus on the problem.

"How do you even set your stove on fire?" The blonde continued while the other gave him a warning glance.

"You were right," you jumped off of the truck. "I can't bake shit"

You looked sad and obviously you were. Your first attempt to do something new ended up on you spending the night at your brother's house.

While talking with the EMTs and other firefighters, Bakugo couldn't help but notice your gaze and your face. You looked like you were about to burst into tears.

A few days passed from the incident, you were tired, working your ass off, day and night, to fix your house so could go back there, filling up papers to see if your insurance covered the damage while giving your brother a hand watching his kids after school.

You were on the verge of crying when someone knocked on the front door.

"Hey?" You opened the door slightly to see a man standing in front of you with a box in his hands. You didn't recall hearing your brother saying something about an incoming package.

"You match the description he gave me. This is for you, " he smiled.

The blonde who looked like he was going to some party handed you the package, turned around, and left you there feeling uneasy.

Most of the time, in this situations you acted distrustful, but the man didn't give you time to think about the possibilities.

What if it was a bomb?

You wouldn't be surprised afted the incident. You had something with fire and explosions.

Grabbing the box, you walked to the kitchen. Thankfully, the kids were asleep in their rooms, so if it was a bomb, you would have some time to run away from the kids and the house.

You expected, well, a bomb, explosives, or some detonating device. Well, you were wrong.

A cute purple box with a white ribbon on laid down.

You opened the box, and for your surprise, there were tons of cookies of all shapes, colors, and flavors. You were shocked until you saw the card.

Hey, the fire department went by your house yesterday, and we noticed that what originated the fire was your stove. The wires were defective. We filled up the papers already, and the company promised to fix your house and equip it with everything you lost in the fire.

Give me a call when everything is ready, I'll teach how to bake properly without losing your house in the process.

Bakugo Katsuki.

...

I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected 😪 my brain is dry

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Note

You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !

Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.

Moths Hit the Window

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment.

Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.

If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze.

König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others.

“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!”

“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect.

“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up.

Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.

No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.

“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.

König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child.

This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru.

“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”

The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes.

“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”

Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest.

“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!”

“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”

“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away.

“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!” König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”

You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture.

He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.

Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you, König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”

It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you.

But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt.

You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.

König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”

You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.

Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”

“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”

“Great!”

“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny.

“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone.

Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge.

“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”

“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.”

“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”

Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.

“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”

“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction.

König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”

“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl.

In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.

Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.

But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.

The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.

“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.

König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance.

Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”

“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”

König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.

“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.”

Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.

Too far.

Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.

You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.

“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.

Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.

Shame that it’s already too late.

Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”

His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.

“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!”

By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience.

—

Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.

Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done.

The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling.

Evolve, or die.

“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”

Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later.

“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.

“Three minutes.”

“...get to it then. We move in five.”

So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants.

“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA.

The Lieutenant is one of them.

Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead.

“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t.

But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact.

Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself.

The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins.

Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.

You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was.

Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding.

Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed.

Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes.

Closer now.

Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide.

Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady.

The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire.

Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock.

Your finger slams into the trigger.

—

You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.

Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself.

Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König.

You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary.

In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.

Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch.

It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later.

You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure.

There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.

“You are late.” König.

He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone.

Anyone but you, that is.

König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter.

You watch and say nothing—dead-faced.

Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.

“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down.

Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm.

“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?”

Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment.

The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour.

“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”

“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you.

Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”

In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence.

Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up.

It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh.

He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest.

“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.”

The needle pauses and a swift nod is given.

“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.

“Pissed off?” You offer quietly.

“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”

Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.

“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”

“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.”

“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?”

“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”

König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.

“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?”

He freezes, muscles going taunt.

“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?”

Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away.

König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate.

“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”

“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”

“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit.

“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over.

There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side.

And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air.

König kneeled to you and bared himself.

Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this.

There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood.

Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.

The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug.

König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning.

But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.

You were reckless.

Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he.

A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame.

“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears.

König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him.

“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat.

Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English.

Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril.

You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust.

You find none.

“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”

A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening.

He speaks with a whispered confession.

“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words.

Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize.

He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized.

For you to come back to him. His partner.

You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.

König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.

The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths.

This time, you’re the one to gasp.

“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”

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rowarn · 1 year ago

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okay i'm back to expand on toxic situationship simon vs smitten golden retriever könig fighting for ur attention!!!

when simon first met you, he had no intention of interacting with you let alone "dating" you. but it just kind of....happened. you had a way of worming your way into his thoughts and his life.

the problem was that he was not build for a relationship. he had problems. a lot of them. he wasn't the type to work on himself, he was the type to find distractions to cope with the mess that was in his head at all times.

the closer you tried to get to him, the further he pulled away. but then when you backed off, he remembered he needed you as a distraction. so he'd rein you back in only for the cycle to continue.

he ignored how much it hurt you, how sometimes your eyes would swim with tears when he gave you the cold shoulder and told you to leave him alone. it wasn't like you understood what was going on — simon refused to open up and tell you that he was just...fucking messy in the head. instead, he just let you think he was some sleazy douchebag who used you for a quick fuck only to toss to the curb when you annoyed him.

part of him wondered (but didn't care bc it benefited him) why you kept coming back after how much he hurt your feelings. but when he wasn't being an intentional jackass to get you to leave him alone for a week or two, he was a great guy. a gentleman. he spoke to you with a soft but not condescending tone and was patient even when you asked stupid questions. when he had you as his distraction, he enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his — only for him to turn around and spew vitriol out of left field.

it was during one of the times he had chased you off that you met könig. on an elevator of all things. the entire mechanical box shuddered with his weight and you were downright shocked as the hulking mass of him ducked to step in.

when you asked what floor, he spoke with a quiet, almost nervous tone to tell you. as you rode the elevator down, you couldn't help but notice how he sort of shrunk in on himself as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible — as if that was even possible. he was massive. he avoided your gaze in a way that was shy instead of suspicious.

it was kind of...cute.

when you both got off the elevator, the lobby, you took a deep breath and stopped him, asking as confidently as you could if you could have his number. his eyes had widened but he surprisingly didn't say no — jackpot!

tho you couldn't see all of his face — the bottom half of it covered by a mask and his large hood concealing his hair, you felt a bit of an attraction to him.

as you walked out, hastily typing his number into your phone as you parted ways, you realized you may have a thing for masked man since this man — könig, he had said with an accent, and the ass that was simon both wore masks.

in between the time of The Simon Cycle, you went on a couple dates with könig. he was charming and sweet, if not a little shy. he was clumsy and almost always bumped his head on doorways before shamefully rubbing the spot he bumped with a look of embarrassment in his eyes.

he was excitable and energetic. he loved animals and always pointed out whatever animals he saw while walking with you — people walking dogs, cats in windows, ducks floating on ponds.

the more time you spent with him, the more you forgot about simon.

until his name popped up on your phone one evening when you were spending an evening in with könig. it was nothing crazy, he wanted to watch his favorite horror movie with you (an ancient black and white).

könig caught sight of your frown as your phone rang, catching sight of the name 'simon' with a blank picture.

"who is this?" he had asked, tho it wasn't out of jealousy, just pure concern and interest.

you let out a sigh, "i dated him....sort of...? not really..." you had responded, earning a confused look from him.

you explained everything to him, from meeting simon all the through his on and off behavior. by the end könig looked upset on your behalf, shaking his head.

"if he cannot decide if he wants you, then he should leave you alone," he said softly, smiling under his mask with a crinkle of his eyes, "that way someone who knows that they want you can move in!"

that was one thing you liked about könig, he was actually open to communicate his thoughts and feelings with you. he told you were pretty, how he liked your laugh, how much he enjoyed your company and was excited to see you again when you both had time.

simon was closed off. he was quiet, mostly listening rather than talking. but he listened well. you remember mentioning that you broke your lamp and had bought a new one but couldn't figure out how to set it up. a week later, after a nice evening spent in bed together, you woke up to find him sitting on your living room floor putting together that lamp for you.

even though könig was...lovely. there was something about simon that was so intoxicating that you couldn't seem to let it go. but also the sex with simon was....spectacular. you never had a man so eager to make you cum until you were incoherent — never had a man who could.

and könig was....traditional. slow. he wanted to date for a long time before jumping into bed. he wanted to properly court you and go through a whole process. which you respected but...you were impatient. greedy.

it wasn't like könig was against you seeing simon. he had told you that you were free to do what you wished, but unless you made it official with the other man he was not going to back down from trying to court you.

so when simon called on you again a couple nights later, you answered.

he was glaring when he opened the door for you, motioning for you to enter before shutting and locking the door.

"why didn't you answer?" he grilled. clearly you ignoring his call when you were with könig annoyed him more than you thought.

you raised an eyebrow before slowly answering, "i was on a date, simon."

that seemed to make him freeze where he stood, eyes narrowing even more into a glare.

"a date?" he spat, "with who? you don't need to go on any dates, you're with me."

that made you roll your eyes so hard it nearly gave you a headache, "a nice guy named könig. simon, i'm not even sure you like me beyond wanting sex. i want a boyfriend." you huffed, "and clearly you don't want that!"

"oh yeah? then why are you here instead of with your boyfriend?" he hissed the last word in disgust.

"we're not official. he hasn't asked but we've been...seeing each other." you decided simply.

at that, simon jerked his mask over his mouth to kiss you in that heated way that made your legs tremble, "does he fuck you as good as i do? hm?"

that got your attention, a sly smile coming to your lips as he worked you out of your clothes.

he was jealous. this revelation was exhilarating to you. simon, the guy who acted like he couldn't care less about you, was actually jealous that you were seeing another guy!

the sex that night was as phenomenal as usual and more. he spent a good half of it with his head between your thighs, pinning you down with strength alone as he ate you to orgasm after orgasm until your cum was a sticky, stringy mess on his lips and chin.

then he worked you to two more orgasms on his cock, the last one he hadn't even needed to touch your clit before you were creaming around him with a sweet little squeal.

simon had a point to prove. you were his and he was not going to lose you to some asshole. deep down, he knew he didn't deserve you and that he should let the better man have you but he just couldn't. he needed you. he wanted you. he was selfish and greedy.

simon disappeared after that. but for once had actually communicated what was going on — deployment, he said. didn't know how long he would be gone. he had actually gave you a goodbye kiss that left you spinning.

the next time you saw simon, you were on a date with könig. it was a quaint little bar that könig said he liked. so there you were, sitting across from him at a booth, nursing a drink and softly talking with one another.

you didn't even know simon was back. he hadn't said anything. when he walked into the bar, his eyes scanned the place like they always did before landing on you.

his gaze lit up as he took a step towards you but quickly halted when he saw you were sitting across from another man. but that didn't stop him for long.

you cursed under your breath, catching könig's attention before simon was right there at the end of the table, glaring at könig.

"can we help you...?" könig asked softly, clearly a little nervous.

"hi...simon..." you sighed softly. könig straightened up in his seat at that.

"official yet?" he asked you, ignoring your greeting.

you gritted your teeth, casting a glance towards könig who looked confused.

"no." you answered simply.

with that simon, yanked a chair from a nearby table and sat right at the end of your table. you concealed a groan of despair.

simons glare fixed upon könig, a challenge clear in his stare alone. he reached forward and grabbed your drink from your hand despite your protest, lifting his mask enough to take a sip, the cocky smirk visible briefly on his lips.

könig quickly understood what was going on and his own eyes narrowed into a glare. you could practically see the sparks going off between them and buried your face in your hands.

it was going to be....a painfully long night, you feared.

#simon ghost riley x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley smut #ghost smut #cod smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod x reader

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yueying-notyingyue · 1 month ago

Text

waking up with seventeen

Seungcheol

obv the person who wakes up later than you

His hand rests gently across your waist all night, in a way that connects both your bodies until people that witness both of you would think you two are connected

His ass definitely has the energy to pull you back to bed if he finds out that you’re getting out of bed

Demands a morning kiss from you (with his stinky breath, he’s going to sulk if you don’t)

Such a clingy guy

The first lights of the day seeped into your shared bedroom anchoring themselves onto your lover’s face, with each ray caressing his well-defined cheekbones. After acknowledging debating to get out of the current situation you’re in, you struggled out of his grasp (for at least 15 minutes) before throwing the fluffy blankets off. Sleepy eyelids fluttering open, his mouth tumbled out a few incoherent words before ultimately deciding it was more effective to tug you back into the embrace of his arms. Eyes big and lips pouting, you knew what he meant, his morning kisses. Breath stinky and all, he knew how to use his face to his advantage. Leaning down from the awkward position he put you in, you quickly placed a quick peck on his cheek before demanding him to get up for your morning walk.

“But princess! It’s too early!” >:(

Jeonghan

Someone who would probably wakes up the same time as you

You see hannie’s a light sleeper I feel that the moment he feels you attempting to sit up he’s already looking up at you, eyes begging you to lie back down with him

Definitely lays down near to your chest listening to your heartbeat when you both get ready to sleep

when you guys wake up his head is still firmly attached to your chest, looking up at you with hazy eyes clouded with sleep

“Hannie we’ve got to wake up!” Although you’ve been whining for the umpteenth time, you didn’t dare to move an inch. Scared to shock him awake from his constant drifting in and out of sleep state, you resorted to slowly stroking his hair, that’ll surely wake him up right? Wrong. You both fell back asleep until midday. The blazing sun rays glared across the room, the burning sun rays making his hair seem ever so elegant. The tranquil quietness that hung in the atmosphere was broken once a call reverberated across the room. This was the fifth time this month that he was late to his dance practice. As he reluctantly pulls away, his sleepy ass has to hear your nagging about how half your day is gone while chiding him about being late. Smug grin plastered across his face; he doesn’t mind at all. After all, he had a restful sleep and much of your attention.

“But angel,” he whined indignantly while burying his face into his shoulder “it was so comfy getting to cuddle with you!”

Joshua

Someone who makes it a point to wake up early to go jogging and ensure half his day isn’t wasted

You see shua’s presence is like the early morning’s sun that shines through the window

I bet his embrace is so warm like going for a swim early in the morning and when you get out of the pool, the temperature is just right, not too cold not too scalding hot

I need someone like shua to hug me, i bet it’ll solve all my problems :(

Morning kisses are a habit you developed early in your relationship with him. So, whenever you guys have the chance to cuddle throughout the night, shua wakes you up by pecking your face.

Ticklish, I know.

But he’s someone who would love to disturb you for fun (in a loving way ofc).

This sweet baby would wake up early to train his body and to make breakfast for the two of you.

Nuzzling your face into his chest, his arms instinctively wrapped around your lower back, rubbing slow circles. A loose white t-shirt hanging off his body with a towel wrapped around his neck, he had just come back from his morning run and showered. The slow hum of the coffee machine added to the comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as he made breakfast. The slow morning coupled with the constant assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere made you ease up. It was so long since you last spent time together, you were not budging a single bit from his side so he resorted to lifting you up onto the kitchen counter (cliche ik) while pecking your face and see it scrunch up in pure delight, it had to be one of his favourite sights of you. The warm morning sun doing glory to your face.

“Darling calm down!” He giggled exasperatedly while pecking your face in between his speech “I’m not going anywhere calm down!”

Jun

Oh this sweet boy :(

He would be so eepy in the morning because both of you would take ages to get into a comfortable position to sleep

Furthermore, he is a member of the performance team, their dance practices diving deep into the night when everyone is asleep

You would have to wait for him to come home and do your night routine before finally tucking in and drifting off

The next day both of you would wake up real late past midday while practically clinging onto each other for dear life

I feel that he would wake up later than you due to exhaustion, hence you would have to make breakfast (or lunch) before he wakes up

Clingy baby pt2

“Umphhh” a sudden weight collapsed onto your shoulder, two long arms finding home by latching themselves onto your waist. A mess of hair tickling your neck as he nuzzled his face into your neck and pressed loving kisses against your shoulder blade. The height distance was gigantic, making him bend down awkwardly all the while trying to make himself feel comfortable. Giggling quietly, you nudged him to go sit down at the dining table so that he would feel more at rest. However, this sleepyhead would absolutely refuse to do so, insisting that the awkward position feels comfortable even though his neck aches really bad :( He insists that staying beside you was worth the ache in his neck. When he comes back from another taxing day, you would have to make it up to him by massaging his neck and back before repeating the same routine before the weekend finally comes around.

“Baby it's worth it I promise!” He whined while looking down at you, not listening to whatever you have to say as he makes his way back to your shoulder in refuge.

Hoshi

I’m pretty sure Hoshi jolts bolts of energy 24/7

Except on the days he comes back looking for refuge after a particularly draining day of never-ending dance practices

However, after a good night’s rest, he seems to have almost recharged completely

Waking up once the day’s first sun rays hit his eyelids, he practically bounces onto you while pecking your face in an attempt to wake you up

You would practically beg him for another 5 minutes of rest even though he would be bugging you throughout your well-deserved rest.

Clingy baby pt3

“Soonyoung you’ve got to stop waking me up!” you whined in your sleep, attempting to cover your ears with a pillow. However, Soonyoung being much much (MUCH) muscular than you, you’d find your pillow getting aggressively launched to the other side of the room while Soonyoung practically dives onto your body, nuzzling his cheek against your own. Seeing your boyfriend being in such peace and happiness made you realise. Oh, how much he loves you. Anyways, who are you to reject his cuddles when he looks this cute. Blankets tossed aside and some pillows getting absolutely thrashed onto the cold and hard floor, you shivered as the cold air caresses your skin, goosebumps instantly forming all over your skin. The warmth radiating for Soonyoung’s body was enough to warm you up enough though. Or was it? “Cutie.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like it was ever so casual, “it’s already seven in the morning! I’ve let you sleep in for an hour today!” Whining while trying to elbow him, he managed to tickle you awake. Your eyelids instantly opened up, shooting a menacing glare at him, Soonyoung teased, “Oh there she is, my baby tiger!”

Wonwoo

Both of you definitely wake up at 3pm

If he didn’t have any dance practices the previous day, he would have been gaming until the wee hours of the morning.

You would either be situated in bed, at your desk, or on his lap waiting for him to grow tired so that the both of you can fall asleep together

Sometimes, when you get too tired, you would practically try and drag him to bed, begging him to cuddle you

I think wonu wakes up later than you cause he sleeps so damn late

you would have to cook lunch for him

You wouldn’t want your baby to become hungry, would you?

Voice laced with thickness, it was another morning afternoon where you tried not to burn down the house by cooking a simple dish that hopefully wouldn’t be too overwhelming to eat. Wonwoo was sitting down at the dining table, arms supporting his head by leaning his elbows on the table, his gaze following your every movement. As you opened the cupboard overhead, you realised one of the sauces you needed to make your food with was too high up. Jumping up and trying to grab it, Wonwoo laughed at your miserable attempt to reach it. Chuckling deeply, he walked towards your direction while wrapping his hand around your waist. Pressing a peck to the crown of your head, he rubbed the pad of his thumb on your bare skin, his other hand shooting up to grab the sauce bottle. Gently placing it down on the counter, he trapped you in between his body and the counter while kissing you firmly on your lips. Hands gripping your waist tightly, he was about to press another kiss to your temple when you smelt burnt food. Turning your attention to the food which has been on high heat for the past few minutes, you quickly reached over to turn off the stove. Glaring playfully at him, he could only chuckle in guilt. “The food’s burnt Wonwoo.” >:(

“It’s ok I can make us some cup noodles.”

Woozi

I feel that woozi goes to bed late at night

Or just pulls an all nighter in his studio

You would have like late night dates in his studio (it’s canon)

So once both of you return home and go to sleep it’ll be so late

I feel that woozi will wake up earlier than you

He would definitely go to the gym to work out early in the morning

When he comes back you would already be awake, lazing in bed

Both of you would have a playlist playing in the background while enjoying each other’s presence

The fan overhead circulated the air around the bedroom. Windows and curtains closed, the only sound you could hear in the room was the quiet humming of the ceiling fan. Whistling a tune, Jihoon pulled the curtains open, the bright rays of light seeping into the bedroom. Your boyfriend standing in the bright gaze of the sun, shirtless with a towel hanging across shoulders, made him seem much more ethereal than usual. Turning around with a cup of coffee in hand, he catches you staring shamelessly at him. Scoffing a bit, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you while handing you the cup. Accepting the cup of coffee, you place the cup on your cheek, soaking the warmth of it. Reaching out for his phone, he connects your speaker and opens spotify before playing your morning playlist. Leaning against him for support and warmth, the both of you enjoy your slow morning with songs playing one after the other. Jihoon thinks that it was a good investment to get spotify premium, enjoying your quiet presence beside him made him realise. Oh he wants this for the rest of his life. Experiencing each morning with you by his side.

“Darling,” he hums out, turning his face to face yours. The lovesick look that hung in his eyes made butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Yea?” “I just wanted to let you know you look ever so beautiful.” (SOMEONE GET ME A JIHOON RN 👹)

Minghao

wakes up once the sun comes out

Probably in another room drinking tea and shit

(maybe) meditating

Growing up in an chinese household i’ve seen my neighbours and relatives do 太極拳 (tai ji quan) like before the sun comes out

(Doing it in school during morning assembly makes me shiver in my microscopic boots frfr)

Bro would probably play the routine songs while doing it since he’s a dancer yk

So when you wake up, Minghao probably waits for you at the living room, two cups of hot steaming tea in the ceramic pot while he does his morning stretches

Forces you into doing it with him tho

The artificial birds chirping and the creek flowing sound blasted through the speakers. It resounded across the whole house, lifting you out of your sleep. Swinging your legs off the side of the bed, you opened the windows, basking in the morning air before packing up the bed. Making your way out of your shared bedroom, you caught sight of your lover doing his routine of stretching and tai ji. Sitting in front of the coffee table, you reached out to the teapot before pouring yourself a cup of green tea. Your presence made Minghao turn his gaze to you before whispering a small “good morning”. You returned the gesture by nodding your head.

“So darling, what would you like for breakfast?”

Mingyu

Another big baby :(

Clingy baby alert! (pt4 i think)

Has both his hands wrapped around your waist and refuses to let go even when you want to visit the washroom

Clingy baby wakes up later than you

I think he said in an interview (with jaeseok and seokjin) that he usually wakes up at 3 to 4 pm

Clings onto you when you’re doing your morning routine

If he is still tired and feeling incredibly clingy that day he would be like cheol and pull you back to bed and trap you in his embrace

“Gyu you’ve got to let go.” Shooting him a nasty look, he finally obeys before releasing you to go to the toilet. He would lay down on your side of the bed (as if he isn’t situated there the whole night) and act like a sick Victorian child. He would repeatedly call out your name and ask you where you are to which you would reply “Kim Mingyu are you going to let me pee in peace?” TT. Once you finally make your way back to the bed, you would refuse to talk to him (as a joke) and ignore his persistent questions of “What took you so long :(“ Please protect this big baby at all costs. He’s so whiny and clingy, it’s so adorable. You reached out to the bedside table to grab your phone from the charger but before you could even reach it, your boyfriend already reached out to your arm and pulled you back to the bed where he would keep you in his embrace for the next hour.

“Baby are you going to leave me like this, cold, loney..” He rambles on and on about how you’ve left him alone :( “But Mingyu I need to pee!” (sobbing sounds continue)

Dokyeom

Another baby who would wake up earlier than you

So so so energetic (I can’t stress this enough)

He would probably pounce on you to wake you up

Peppering your face with numerous kisses

He would tickle you awake

If you don’t wake up by his tickles you would wake up by his singing at 8 am in the morning

Broski is probably having a 1 hour session singing in the bathroom

You’d probably have noise complaints from the neighbours lmao

I bet 100% that he’s going to sing the symphony dolphin meme just to annoy you

No but this baby wouldn’t want to disturb your sleep

He’s such a softie :(

Waking up to the sound of water splashing (100% real not creek flowing music) you hear your boyfriend singing his heart out to his spotify playlist in the bathroom. Not that you’re complaining though. The voice of his makes your heart melt at his sincerity of being an idol. The music comes to an end and a few seconds later, you hear the water stop flowing before the bathroom door creaks open. You make eye contact with your boyfriend who is currently drying his hair with a small towel. He grins at you before continuing with his next song while choosing what to wear. Seriously, is this sunshine ever going to stop singing?

“Baby~” Dokyeom sing-songs before holding up an outfit he chose. “Should I wear this today?”

Seungkwan

Oh this dramatic diva >:D

He would wake up once his alarm clock rings

He would then spend like the next hour in the bathroom doing his thing before going to the kitchen and grabbing a cooling face mask

By the time you wake up, he must have come back from his morning run

You would find him in the kitchen drinking his iced americano and taking his health supplements

Would probably side eye you and nag you on why you shouldn’t sleep in for too long

“I’ve told you so many times!” Seungkwan whined while clinging onto your shoulder. “It’s not good to sleep in! You should have gone to bed earlier!” Ignoring the poor boy’s constant nagging, you tried to go back to sleep on the bed. You would see him pick up his karaoke machine’s mic and start pouring out his heart and soul into a wonder girl’s song. That should wake you up enough before you pounce on him and ask him to shut up for your sanity. He’s going to dodge all your attacks before trapping you in his embrace and shooing you away to take your supplements.

“I want nobody, nobody but you” (obnoxious clapping sounds) “I want nobody, nobody but you” “Boo Seungkwan if you don’t shut up in the next one minute, I’m going to throw you outside the house.” (你给我滚出去 reference)

Vernon

Oh this guy and his sleeping habits

He has such a laid back vibe and i’m here for it

You guys probably watch those funny cat videos compilation series on youtube in the morning

Or maybe both of you would be on twitter or tiktok and you would send each other funny videos or memes

Both of you too lazy to get up

The only time both of you get up is when either one of you need to use the washroom

I feel that vernon would wake up slightly later than you

both of you guys taking your morning slow

“Nonie?” You tugged the sleeve of his shirt trying to gain his attention. Turning around to meet your gaze, he instinctively raised an eyebrow before you showed him the funny video you found on TikTok. Gently grabbing the phone out of your hand, he looked at the video with mild amusement before returning it to you. “Too late, I've already seen it.” He smirks before laughing his heart out. You can only smack him out of playful annoyance and irritation, trying to get that stupid grin out of his face. “But it is funny!” You whined, bottom lip jutting out as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry babe, it’s just so amusing to see you getting worked up!”

Chan

Oh my precious baby :(

He’s so so so so so pocket sized and tiny D:

Since he is also part of the performance team (4/4)

I can totally see him sleeping until after midday

When he does wake up, you would be in the kitchen preparing food for him to eat and regain his energy

Most likely cause he didn’t have much energy to eat dinner last night

He would wake up and make his way to you, back hugging you as you focus your attention on not burning the food

He would insist that he wants to help you cook the food but you would refuse bc how can you let your baby work when he is so tired

Shooing him away to the dining table but he wouldn’t budge since he is also another clingy baby (pt5 if i remember correctly)

Arms wrapped around your torso and head buried in your neck, he would just stay there, basking happily in the moment

“Channie, go and sit at the dining table. The food is almost done!” You nudged him, giving him the assurance that you weren’t going anywhere. However, this clingy baby would not leave your side even for a second. You guessed that his training last night must have taken a toll on his body as you noticed him burying his head even deeper into your shoulder, sniffling your neck as his grip on your torso got even tighter. “Why move to the dining table if you aren’t there with me!” He whined gripping you even tighter, you weren’t sure if you were able to breathe anymore due to the fact that he had been working out a lot more recently. You could only chuckle in amusement as you plated the food and walked towards the dining table to put the plates down. Sitting down on the long bench. Chan refused to sit at the opposite side, deciding that sitting beside you (or lying half of his body on you) was the better option. You had no choice but to baby him, feeding him his bread and letting him sip on his water. Chan could only look up at you with his half opened droopy eyes, looking at you with the most lovesick gaze.

“I love you so much you know, right?” :(

“I know Channie, this has been the fifth time you have said it in the last 5 minutes.” You state while brushing his fringe back, wiping the beads of sweat off his forehead.

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s-awturn · 1 month ago

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Out Of The Plans || F1 Grid

cw: angst, pain, crying, lack of communication, breakup, fight, They are idiots, no exceptions..

starring: LH44, CS55, CL16, LN4, OP81, MV1

a/n: just angst and a feeling of heartbreak. Appreciate me because I wrote this in the middle of a horrible migraine

LEWIS HAMILTON:

It had been like a shock to your brain, this couldn't be happening, not at that moment. You held the pregnancy test in your shaking hands and checked the label again to make sure of the result.

A little line: negative.

Two little lines: positive.

And on your test there were two bright red lines, telling you in your face that you were pregnant. Oh God, you were pregnant and unfortunately there was no more inopportune time for a pregnancy. Okay, everything would be fine when you told Lewis, he always wanted a family, everything would be fine.

“This shouldn’t be happening, Y/N!” he paced back and forth in the huge living room of the apartment you shared. "Should not!"

Your stomach churned in fear, this wasn't exactly the conversation you were expecting to have when he got back from Singapore.

“Well, that happens when two partners have crazy sex and forget the condom!” you said as energetically as he did.

“You said your birth control was up to date!” he paused, looking at you with nothing but rebuke.

“Of course they were! But they don't work miracles, Lewis! Especially for the two of us who have sex almost every day without a condom!" you stood up and stood in front of him. "Now there is no point in pointing fingers and saying who was wrong, we have a baby on the way and we need to think about everything.”

Something strange flickered in Lewis's dark eyes and his heart sank.

“I can’t,” he hissed, pulling away from you. “I can’t deal with this right now, my life is a mess, I can’t deal with a baby right now.”

You felt your heart stop beating, what the hell was he saying? How come he couldn't deal when you were the one who would have to change everything?! Because abortion didn't even cross your mind.

“What is it like?”

Lewis licked his lips nervously, tearing his eyes away from yours, the tension in the room was raw and thick as fog, which made you even more apprehensive. He couldn't be saying what he wanted to say. Not Lewis.

“I can’t compromise the rest of the season, my performance with a baby now, especially since I’m almost at Ferrari,” he said it all quickly, in one breath. And you froze in place, blinking slowly as it sunk in that your boyfriend was saying he didn't want the baby.

You took a deep breath, you wouldn't let yourself cry in front of him, not anymore.

“Are you serious, Lewis? Are you really serious?”

He continued to look out the window, staring at the Monte Carlo marina, not having the courage to look at you.

“You, who always wanted a family, who made plans with me, are you saying you don't want the baby? That you can't handle it when I'm the one who's going to have my whole life changed to bring him into the world?!” It was his turn to walk around the room.

“But you didn’t even want a child now! You just got promoted at work! You can’t be judging me for that!”

That fell like a bucket of cold water on you, really, having a baby at that moment wasn't the best thing that could happen, but it was already there, it happened and the baby was already there.

“Alright Hamilton, the baby and I won’t hold up your championship, if you have any chance of overtaking McLaren, but either way, don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with that.” You said pointing to yourself, your hand supporting your still flat belly.

“Y/N, we can solve this another way-” he started, but you held up your hand to silence him.

“For the love of God, shut up, don’t make me hate you, Hamilton” you said and turned away, going to the bedroom. It was obvious that it was over, because there was no way you were going to abandon the baby too. Fuck Lewis and his problems.

He went after you, but was met with the suite door slammed in his face. You packed your things, only what you bought or took from your own apartment, you didn't want anything from him besides the little resident who rented your uterus on a nine-month contract .

“Everything is fine, baby, it’s going to be okay, I promise,” you said, standing in front of the mirror, imagining what your belly would look like as the months went by. “I will take care of everything”

You left the suite with a suitcase and two handbags, you had no idea where you were going at that moment, but anywhere was better than there with Lewis.

“Why are you going? We can work this out, honey—”

“Oh my God, Lewis!” you exclaimed, calling the elevator, “we can’t work anything out! You don’t want the baby, you don’t want us, so obviously this is over and I’m leaving! A great championship for you!”

When the elevator doors closed, you allowed yourself to cry, you never imagined Lewis would do that, never! You sniffed, wiping your nose on the sleeve of the only sweatshirt you stole from him. You wouldn't take anything else from him.

“We don’t need him, baby,” you whispered, as if the baby could hear. You took one last look at the apartment that had been your home for four beautiful years and with a heavy heart said, “Goodbye Lew.”

CARLOS SAINZ:

The doctor's words echoed inside your head.

Pregnant, you were twelve weeks pregnant, or three months. That was unexpected, very unexpected because you and Carlos didn't discuss starting a family, this discussion never reached you even after years of a stable relationship.

“Miss?” the doctor’s voice sounded distant to your ears, you were still focused on the blood test results.

Pregnant.

Your mind fell into limbo and the last thing you saw was the doctor running towards you, calling your name.

The smell of antiseptic and alcohol made you wake up slowly, your head felt like it weighed a ton and your eyes were still blurry, you struggled to remember what had happened and like a bomb exploding, the word ‘pregnant’ popped into your mind.

“Calm down, calm down, you can’t exert yourself too much right now, Y/N.” You recognized the voice of Andie, your best friend from college. “Here, drink some water, the doctor said it would help you.” She handed you the glass, expecting you to drink all of the contents. “How are you feeling? You were unconscious for almost all day long, I almost died when they called me.”

“I’m fine, I guess... What did they tell you?” you handed the cup back to her.

“Nothing, the doctor said you felt unwell... What are you-” she was interrupted by Carlos’ abrupt entry into the room. He was a mess, still in his Ferrari training gear and with his hair a mess.

“¿Estás bien, vida mía?” (Are you okay, my love?).

“Yes, yes I’m fine... I just felt sick” you twisted the bed sheets between your fingers, how would you tell Carlos that you were expecting a baby, that you would be parents in six months or less? You looked at Andie, silently asking her to leave, the girl nodded and left you two alone. “It was just a scare,” she muttered, swallowing hard. “I got the test results back, remember how I was feeling really sick last week?”

“Yes, yes, I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to eat that steak tartare...”

“It wasn’t because of the steak tartare, Carlos.” You looked at him, feeling your nervousness tighten in your stomach. “I’ve been sick all week because I’m pregnant, I’m three months pregnant.” you said abruptly, watching Carlos lose color in his face and stagger away from the stretcher.

“Pregnant? B-But we were being careful!” he said, you couldn’t understand the emotions that showed on his face.

“Accidents happen, Carlos... Not that getting pregnant is an accident, especially when you have sex without a condom...” you said, waiting for him to calm down.

“This shouldn’t have happened! I don’t want children now!” he said exasperatedly. “I don’t!”

Something inside you broke when you heard him, you weren't ready to take on motherhood yet, your internet work was finally bearing fruit, your relationship with Carlos was going well, you never thought you'd include a child in that equation, but there she was. But none of that was as scary as the idea that her boyfriend didn't want the baby he helped conceive.

“You don’t want to?” you repeated his words slowly.

“No! Of course not! A baby now would get in the way of my career!”

And suddenly, it all came crashing down on his head like an anvil. Tears stung your eyes and the words came out before you could filter them.

“Go away, Carlos,” you were surprised to notice how firm your voice was. “Get out of here, get out of my sight.”

"But amor... We never talked about children, you never told me you wanted them!” The Spaniard tried to touch you, but you backed away, avoiding him as if he were burning you.

“It’s not about what I want or don’t want, Carlos,” you snapped. “I really didn’t want a baby, but I’ll have one in six months, with or without you! So decide whether you’re with me or leaving!”

“I-I can’t... I-I don’t want kids, I need to dedicate myself to the fullest and a baby will get in my way” he stammered, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Go away Carlos, I’ve heard enough” you turned your face away so you wouldn’t see him, ignoring his attempts. It was only when the door closed with a dull thud that you could let your strong facade fall and allowed yourself to cry to the point where you didn't notice when Andie came in and wrapped you in a protective hug.

“What happened? Carlos left as if he was being chased by the devil” she rubbed your back, trying to make you stop crying. Between sobs, you explained what had happened, feeling her embrace tighten. “Oh love, I’m so sorry this happened, I didn't think Carlos was a son of a bitch... What do you intend to do?”

“I-I don’t know... Maybe I should give the baby up for adoption, I don’t have the courage to have an abortion...”

“Whatever you decide, I’m with you, sis.”

You snuggled into her loving embrace, unsure of what your life would be like in the coming months.

CHARLES LECLERC:

“When are you going to tell him, dear?” Your mother asked you as the two of you set the lunch table, it was Sunday and once a month, religiously his family gathered at his grandparents' house. Charles had already attended so many lunches that when he didn't show up, his grandparents and uncles would ask. You loved knowing that your family loved your boyfriend. “I'm sure he'll be happy, Charles loves children.”

You nodded and a small smile appeared, confident that he would love the news. You discovered you were pregnant a few days ago and had already noticed the signs. You had decided to tell her about the pregnancy after lunch, even bought a pair of children's shoes with a Ferrari design on them. Who could judge you? You were so anxious!

Soon, the family gathered around the table, talking loudly and laughing nonstop, preventing any thoughts beyond the conversations and laughter. The conversation you were having with one of your cousins was interrupted by your grandmother, questioning when you and Charles would finally have children.

Charles choked on his wine and cleared his throat. “Mhmm well... I thought Y/N mentioned that I don’t want kids.”

“You never told me that, Charl...” you said just for him to hear “I never knew that”

“No?” he looked surprised. “Really?”

Silence fell uncomfortably over the table, you gripped the handle of the cutlery you were holding, feeling your anxiety grow in a negative way.

“You’re great with kids, dear, you’d be a great dad.” your grandmother said, surprised. After all, the Monegasque was adored by the children in the family and got along very well with them all, hearing that he didn't want children was a surprise.

“I’m a good uncle,” he gave a modest smile. “I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.”

Maybe it was your fault, you and Charles didn't have that conversation, so you couldn't know he didn't want children. But it was painful anyway, mainly because you were already pregnant.

Hours later, as you drove home, you couldn't stop thinking about his words.

I’m not made of father material, meaning no children, ever.

“You are very quiet, mon cher” He said, resting his hand on your thigh. You jumped, caught up in your thoughts, you didn't even notice his presence until he touched you. “Did something happen?”

“I was thinking about the lunch conversation...”

“It was a strange atmosphere, wasn’t it?” he gave a weak laugh, giving her leg a gentle squeeze “with so many children there, do your grandparents still want more?” his laugh sounded strange to your ears, just like that conversation.

“I’m pregnant, Charles,” you said suddenly and screamed when he slammed the car on the brakes. “CHARLES?!”

He guided the car to the side of the road and looked at you, he was as scared as you were.

“You are what?!”

“Pregnant, Charles! I was planning to tell you today, but I found out you don’t want kids!” you exasperated, loosening your belt.

“That can’t be true, you’re joking,” he said nervously. “Y/N I don’t-”

“I know! I know that, Charles! You don’t have to repeat yourself.”

You saw pure terror in his eyes and braced yourself for whatever he would say.

“I don’t want this baby, Y/N, I don’t want to be a father, not today, not ever” he said.

You took a deep breath, feeling your head throb with the headache that would soon come.

“Well then I guess we can’t go through with this, Charles,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I will not give up my son for you or anyone else.”

“Mon cher, a child would disrupt our lives forever, we would no longer be able to travel, we would lose our peace and tranquility”

“You won’t lose anything, Charles, you don’t need to worry… Now, if it’s not too much to ask, can you continue? I intend to move out of your apartment today.”

“Beau, (beautiful) It doesn't have to be like this... This child-”

“Don’t say anything else Charles, don’t turn the love I feel for you into resentment” you begged, avoiding his eyes.

The rest of the way was done in complete silence, despite the grief that broke your heart, you would not let it consume you. A life outside of that would be born in a few months and you couldn't let bitterness stop you from living the good moments that the future would bring you.

Charles still tried to stop you from leaving, saying he would leave you with the apartment, but you didn't listen to him or give him a chance to convince you.

“I hope you’re happy, Charles,” was the last thing you said before you left. From then on, it was just you and the baby.

LANDO NORRIS:

There were at least five tests done on the bathroom counter and you were in a panic, pure panic. It wasn't the time to have a baby, no way. You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as you thought about the situation, there was so much at stake.

You had to decide what you were going to do, whether to have that baby, how you were going to tell Lando... Oh God, there was still Lando. You couldn't even think about what his reaction would be. There were mentions of a son, perhaps after he had won a championship or two and had achieved everything he wanted, but not at that moment, in which both were still building their lives, their careers.

“I’m here, honey!” he shouted from the living room and you threw the tests in the trash without thinking. You checked your appearance in the mirror, trying to dispel the look of astonishment that covered your face.

You put on a fake smile and ran into the living room, finding your boyfriend stretching his body. It was clear that he was exhausted, but he was glowing, winning made him feel very good and you admired the Briton's bright eyes.

“Congrats on your victory, Lan!” you jumped into his arms, kissing Lando all over his face as he laughed.

“I wish you were there, honey, but you’d hate the weather… Anyway, how about we have dinner to celebrate?”

“That’s a great idea! Why don’t you take a shower while I get ready?” You gave him a peck on the lips. “I took a shower just before you arrived and I’m already moving our time forward... You know I take a long time to get ready.”

“Ok ok, will it be sad to take a shower without you? Yes, but if it means we won’t be long in getting out, great!” he said playfully and you responded with a light slap on his arm.

“You’re ridiculous, Lando Norris! Go take a shower, you clown!”

He laughed, grabbed his carry-on bag and went to the bathroom. You let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding and went to the closet to get ready. Despite being happy for your boyfriend's victory, you didn't have the slightest desire to go out and celebrate anything, but denying dinner would make Lando suspicious. You would take the time of dinner to think about what you would say, the panic gradually subsided, allowing you to think clearly.

You were finishing putting on your makeup when Lando came out of the shower, he still had the towel wrapped around his waist. From the position you were in, you could only hear his footsteps approaching the closet.

“Y/N, what does this mean?” he appeared in your field of vision, holding up one of the pregnancy tests. “Are you pregnant?”

You felt like the ground was disappearing beneath your feet and the earth was swallowing you up. From the look on Lando's face, you wanted the earth to actually swallow you. You'd never been claustrophobic, but that closet looked terrifyingly small.

“Answer me!” he exclaimed, making you jump. “Are you pregnant?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m pregnant!” You shouted back. “I found out today.”

He laughed, there was no humor in his voice, just sarcasm and disbelief. “I should have guessed.”

“W-What are you talking about?” you stuttered, dropping your makeup on the vanity and taking a tentative step towards Lando.

“This whole shit, I should have known that at some point you would do this, who doesn’t want to get pregnant by a Formula One driver, right?” he said furiously and threw the test at your feet.

Reality hit you like a punch. Lando was claiming that you got pregnant on purpose. He thought you were a gold digger.

“Are you suggesting that I wanted to get pregnant on purpose?! Lando, I just graduated! I don’t even work yet, why the hell would I want a child now?” You yelled at him.

“Work?” he laughed wryly, running his hands through his hair. “As if you would think of that, not being supported by my money!”

His every word felt like a stab to your chest.

“I never wanted a penny from you, Lando! I always refused any thing or privilege from you!” you answered him, sitting down. Your body felt heavy, full of tiredness. “I never wanted anything from you but yourself!”

“You’re a fake, a liar like all the others!” he accused you, pointing his finger in your direction. “Get your things and get out of my house, I don't want to know anything about you anymore” he took a deep breath and for you, the rejection was nothing compared to the pain of being called a gold digger, a dowry hunter. That was a hard blow to his dignity.

You threw your clothes on the floor, only the ones you had taken to his house. After dropping all the clothes on the floor, you grabbed some bags to put all your belongings in. At that moment, Lando had already dressed and was standing in the middle of the suite.

“Tell me where you will be staying so I know where to send the child support check.” He demanded and you glared at him, you were just as angry as he was.

“You and your fucking money can rot in hell, Lando. My son and I don’t need you at all, you're dead to me, Norris, completely dead and buried.” you left the room and ignoring his screams.

Lando and his money could go fuck themselves, you never wanted to see him again!

OSCAR PIASTRI:

Sorry, I can't see Pastry in this scenario 🫣

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

That saying “in the blacksmith’s house, the spit is made of wood” made a lot of sense to you, being a doctor you knew when people were unwell just by looking at them, it was a joke not to have noticed the signs of pregnancy. So imagine how surprised you were to find that not only was your period late, but you were also experiencing frequent nausea and episodes of dizziness.

Even though getting pregnant wasn't one of your dreams, you were happy, after all, everything in your life was going well: you had a stable job, your finances were going well and your fiancé was great. Even though it wasn't planned, you were already more than excited for the baby's arrival.

You decided to tell Max during his week off, where he would be more relaxed, without the stress of work. Until his week off arrived and you were jumping up and down with anticipation to tell him, you waited for Max to relax enough. You knew he would like it, Max loved kids.

“Honey, I have something to tell you” you took advantage of the fact that he wasn’t playing and sat on his lap.

“Sure, mijn liefje (my love), I’m all ears” he took off his headphones and turned off the monitors, it was always like that when you talked to him, nothing else mattered to Max other than what you said.

“Straight to the point, I’m six weeks pregnant—”

“What do you mean you’re pregnant? That’s not possible, still more than six weeks”

An alert sounded in your mind, was Max really suggesting that you might have cheated on him?

“I was in the middle of a series of races, we barely saw each other during that month” he argued, making the doubts he had even more obvious.

“Max, you can’t be suggesting that!”

“In that case, explain to me how you are pregnant if we weren’t together!”

“Is your memory so bad that you don’t remember that we were together in Spielberg?!” you threw at him, irritated by his distrust. “I spent the entire Austrian GP weekend with you!”

“We had sex once that week, there’s no way that it was that sex that was rewarded with a child!” Max looked increasingly distraught.

“Are you kidding me, Max? I never cheated on you, I barely have time for you, let alone another man!” You were nervous to the point of shaking, you sat back down, trying to keep calm.

“I don’t believe you, Y/N, I’m sure this child’s father is that pediatrician at the hospital!”

“I’m not going to listen to anything else, you’re delusional,” you mumbled, tears blurring your vision.

“You better go away, I don’t want to know anything about you or that child!”

You wiped away your tears, feeling humiliated, hurt and offended.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make a point of letting you know anything about us,” you assured. “I'll send someone to get my things, or leave them at the reception and I'll pick them up later, I don't know!" you put on your shoes and grabbed your bag.

“Be grateful if I don’t throw it away.”

“Whatever Max, do whatever you want, I don’t care” and with that, you slammed the apartment door hard enough to knock the picture of the two of you off the wall.

#f1 imagine #f1 #sawturn #f1 grid x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #formula one fanfiction #f1 grid #f1 headcanons #sawturn headcanons

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novaursa · 3 months ago

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Flame Kissed

- Summary: As you and Aegon never had a problem expressing your desires openly, neither did your dragons. And as both of you just tormented the inhabitants of the Red Keep, your dragons kept the whole capital awake for weeks.

- Paring: reader (twin!wife)/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, has same violet eyes as Aegon, and is bonded with dragon called Starfyre. For full chronological order of these works visit my blog. The list is pinned on the top. Or, you can read it as a one-shot.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 1 773

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The evening light filtering through the tall windows of the Red Keep. Your shared laughter filled the room as you playfully pushed him onto the bed. His platinum blond hair, tousled and wild, framed his handsome face, and his eyes, the same striking violet as yours, glowed with mischief and desire.

"Y/N, you can't just pounce on me like that," Aegon teased, though he made no effort to push you away.

"You love it when I do," you retorted with a smirk, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his lips.

He groaned appreciatively, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Gods, I do. What would I do without you?"

"Be bored out of your mind," you quipped, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his face.

Aegon’s touch was fire against your skin, his lips tracing a path down your neck now, setting your nerves alight. The world beyond your chambers ceased to exist, lost in the fervor of young love and unrestrained desire.

"Y/N," Aegon whispered, his breath hot against your ear, "do you think they'll hear us again?"

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the distant mating roars from the Dragonpit. "Only if we’re louder than Starfyre and Sunfyre."

His eyes sparkled with determination, and he pulled you closer, his hands roaming with a possessive hunger. “A challenge, then?”

Before you could respond, his lips claimed yours with a fervor that left you breathless. Your bodies entwined, you gave yourselves over to the heat of the moment, each touch and kiss a testament to the connection you shared.

The two of you lost yourselves in each other, your movements becoming more urgent, driven by the undeniable bond. The heat between you was mirrored by the dragon fire coursing through your veins, the primal connection of your dragons, Starfyre and Sunfyre, heightening your senses.

Just as your passion reached its peak, the door to your chambers burst open. You barely had time to pull a sheet around yourself before Tyland Lannister stood gaping at the doorway, his face a picture of shock and horror.

"My apologies, Your Grace, I—" Tyland stammered, his cheeks flaming as red as his house's banner. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before muttering, "The dragon cries, the city can't find any sleep for days now... Queen Alicent wanted me to inform you..."

Aegon, always the quicker thinker, burst into laughter, his voice rich and full of amusement. "Tyland, you have the worst timing imaginable."

"Clearly," Tyland managed, his voice strained and his eyes widened further, if that was even possible, and he turned on his heel, muttering under his breath about the improprieties of royalty. “I’ll… I’ll leave you to it, then,” he stammered, practically tripping over his own feet as he fled.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you and Aegon erupted into fits of laughter, the awkwardness of the moment melting away. “Well, that’s one way to scare a Lannister,” Aegon says as he pulls you back to him, his hands sliding beneath the sheet to find your skin once more.

"Where were we?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Right about here," you replied, your own hands eager to resume their exploration of his body.

Tyland Lannister hurried through the corridors of the Red Keep, his face still flushed from the scene he had stumbled upon. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. The sound of the dragons' mating cries echoed in the distance, a constant reminder of the intense bond shared by Starfyre and Sunfyre, and by extension, their riders.

Reaching the king’s chambers, Tyland paused to compose himself before entering. Inside, King Viserys lay on his bed, looking pale and frail, with Alicent and Grand Maester Orwyle attending to him. The room was heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and the tension of unspoken worries.

"Your Grace," Tyland said, bowing deeply. "I bring news."

Alicent turned her sharp gaze on him, her brow furrowing. "What is it, Tyland? And why do you look so flustered?"

Tyland cleared his throat, struggling to find the right words. "I went to fetch Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N, but... they are currently indisposed."

Viserys coughed weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "Indisposed? Explain yourself, Tyland."

Tyland shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Alicent, whose eyes had narrowed even further. "I found them... together, Your Grace. In a rather... intimate situation."

Alicent's lips pressed into a thin line, her annoyance palpable. "This is hardly the time for such distractions. The entire capital is on edge with those dragons of theirs. It’s been a week of incessant noise, and now this?"

Viserys managed a weak smile, his eyes glazing with a hint of amusement. "Young love," he murmured. "At least they are well-matched."

"Well-matched or not," Alicent snapped, "they have responsibilities. We cannot afford for them to be so... preoccupied, especially now."

Grand Maester Orwyle stepped forward, his expression grave. "The king's health is of paramount concern. Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N must be made aware of the urgency of the situation."

Tyland nodded, still feeling the lingering embarrassment of his earlier encounter. "I will speak with them again, Your Grace."

"No need," Viserys said softly. "Let them be, for now. They will come when they are ready."

Alicent huffed, clearly dissatisfied. "Very well, but they should be reminded of their duties."

As Tyland bowed and exited the chamber, the sound of the dragons outside seemed to grow louder, their cries a reminder of the powerful connection that mirrored the one shared by Aegon and Y/N. The whole of King’s Landing was indeed on edge, the unrest within the castle walls reflecting the unease of the city below.

Back in their chambers, you and Aegon lay entwined, the earlier intrusion by Tyland a distant memory as you lost yourselves in each other once more. Aegon’s fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

"Do you think Tyland will ever recover from his shock?" Aegon asked with a chuckle.

You laughed softly, your fingers running through his hair. "He might need some time. But we should probably make an appearance soon."

Aegon sighed, his hold on you tightening. "I know. But for now, let’s just stay like this a little longer. The world can wait."

You nodded, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his embrace. For a few precious moments, the worries of the world faded away, leaving only the love and passion that bound you and Aegon together.

A week later, the dragons' cries had finally ceased, bringing a blessed silence to the Red Keep. The sunroom, bathed in morning light, was a tranquil haven where you and Aegon enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. You sat comfortably in his lap, sharing food and laughter, the ease of your affection evident to anyone who might see.

Aegon's fingers lazily traced lines on your thigh as he fed you a piece of fruit, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I think I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice a low purr.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m sure you could. But we both know we have duties to attend to eventually."

Just then, Tyland Lannister appeared behind the servants, his expression a mix of determination and apprehension. Aegon’s gaze flicked up, and he grinned, his amusement clear. "Well, if it isn’t our dear friend Tyland. Come to join us for breakfast?"

Tyland cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "Your Highnesses, I, uh, need to speak with you both."

"Do you now?" Aegon replied, his tone light. "Well, don't just stand there. Have some breakfast first. We wouldn’t want you fainting from hunger, would we, Y/N?"

You smiled, playing along. "Of course not. Please, sit, Tyland."

Tyland hesitated but ultimately sat across from you, trying to maintain his composure. "Thank you, Your Grace. But I’m here on a matter of importance."

Aegon raised an eyebrow, his hand never leaving your thigh. "Importance, you say? Do tell."

Tyland struggled to find his words, clearly flustered by your and Aegon’s casual intimacy. "The Queen has requested that I remind you both of your responsibilities. The King’s health is fragile, and your presence is required more frequently at court."

Aegon leaned back, his expression one of mock seriousness. "Responsibilities, hm? And here I thought my only duty was to ensure my dear wife’s happiness."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning into Aegon. "It seems we’ve been neglecting our duties, my love."

Tyland’s face grew redder by the moment, his discomfort evident. "Your Highnesses, this is no laughing matter. The Queen is quite insistent that you both... focus."

Aegon’s eyes twinkled with defiance as he picked up another piece of fruit, offering it to you. "Did you hear that, Y/N? We need to focus. Perhaps Tyland has a point. Maybe we should focus on finishing our breakfast first."

You took the fruit from Aegon’s fingers, your gaze never leaving his. "I think that’s an excellent idea."

Tyland groaned inwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Please, Your Highnesses, I beg of you. The King’s condition is worsening, and the Queen is at her wit’s end."

Aegon’s demeanor softened slightly, though his playful spirit remained. "Alright, Tyland. We understand. We’ll make more of an effort to be present. But you must admit, we’ve earned a bit of time to ourselves, haven’t we?"

Tyland sighed, seeing a glimmer of hope. "Yes, Your Highness. But please, remember your duties. The realm depends on it."

Aegon nodded, his tone becoming more serious. "We will, Tyland. You have our word."

Relieved, Tyland stood to leave. "Thank you, Your Highnesses. I will inform the Queen."

Aegon’s playful mood returned, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear that made you giggle. Tyland cleared his throat again, looking as if he might bolt from the room at any moment.

“Is there anything else, Tyland?” Aegon asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence.

Tyland shook his head quickly. “No, Your Grace. That will be all.”

As Tyland hurried out of the room, Aegon’s laughter filled the space. “Poor Tyland. I think we may have traumatized him.”

You smiled, turning to kiss Aegon softly. “We should probably behave, at least a little.”

Aegon sighed dramatically. “If we must. But only for you, my love.”

The two of you continued your breakfast, the weight of your responsibilities momentarily lightened by the shared laughter and love that bound you together. The sunroom seemed brighter, the food tasted sweeter, and for a little while longer, the world outside could wait.

#house of the dragon #game of thrones #viserys targaryen #alicent hightower #tayland lannister #dragons #sunfyre #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon

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lazycats-stuff · 7 months ago

Note

What about Bruce"sneaking out" to go on date with the reader. His son's obviously follow him to see what their father is up to. When they realize that he's going on a date, they tease him the next day because 'the playboy is settling down'

Oh yeah. That would happen. Also, Robert Pattinson is hot. Like, sir, who gave you the right to be this beautiful?! Ah...

Summary: Bruce is ready to settle down.

Warnings: talks about Bruce's sexuality, boys following Bruce, teasing, Bruce has no will to deal with them.

Bruce Wayne is a very known playboy. That was a fact that no one could dispute. But the playboy was slowly getting ready to settle down, but he didn't want anyone to know just yet. He knew that his playboy history would bite him in the ass, but hey, he could try something at least.

With someone called (Y/N) (L/N). Bruce met the man by accident at work and has really liked him so he decided to shoot his shot with the man. (Y/N) knew of the playboy persona and history with many men and women and that threw him off.

Bruce knew that (Y/N) would be suspicious because of his playboy persona. That was going to happen, but Bruce wasn't going to let this chance go to waste. Bruce promised (Y/N) that he wasn't like the media made him out to be.

(Y/N) didn't quite believe it, but Bruce was patient. He was going to win (Y/N) over one way or another. Slowly but surely he would make him say yes. He would show (Y/N) that he wasn't what the media portrayed him to be.

So he started with some flowers first. A few bouquets to start off with. Then something that he heard (Y/N) talk about while they talked. He wanted to make sure that (Y/N) knew that he was an attentive and observant partner.

(Y/N) said yes eventually and Bruce was over the moon. He told (Y/N) they would be going to go to a really fancy restaurant, all expenses paid by Bruce. His own words.

Bruce finished tying his tie as he looked at himself in the mirror. He opted for a classic black suit. Classics are often great and there was no need to try to overdo things. It's important that he remains true to yourself.

The only issue in this entire thing?

His boys. Don't get him wrong, he loves his boys to no end and Bruce would never change anything about them. But... There is a slight problem about them teasing him about all of this. They are chaotic boys who love him in their own way, but they would tease the hell out of him for this date.

Sneaking out was the only option.

After that, Bruce slowly made his way to the garage, getting into his car where flowers and a watch were waiting as presents. He made sure no one followed him before leaving.

Oh he was so wrong for that train of thought.

Jason frowned in thought as he watched Bruce drive away. He knew that Bruce has been secretive about something for a little while now, but he didn't know what. The boys agreed with that sentiment and decided to check where and what Bruce was going.

So they put the tracker on his car and have decided to follow him to the place where he was. They have an entire sting operation when it comes to that. They were raised by the best detective in the world. Not to mention, they were trained by Bruce in all the ways to be sneaky.

So, after 20 minutes, Dick took one of the cars with tinted windows and they all squeezed in there, just ready to stalk their father. They were concerned, sue them. Jason and Dick where at the front, while Jason was navigating Dick through the city until they parked across the street from the restaurant.

Tim hacked into the cameras inside the restaurant and the four watched the footage of Bruce and (Y/N). Both when they came into the restaurant and now.

" Father bought flowers and a watch? Since when playboys do that? It looks like it has meaning. " Damian questioned out loud and everyone shrugged.

Then came the kiss on the cheek from Bruce to (Y/N) and everyone was even more shocked.

" What the fuck? " Jason voiced out and Dick smacked the back of his head for the cursing. " Hey! "

Tim shushed them all as he turned the footage to the live one. " They seem very cozy with one another... " Tim noted and everyone seemed to agree.

" The playboy is finally settling down. " Jason joked, laughing quietly.

It was a weird thought, to think that Bruce has decided to settle down like a normal person and not like a playboy... Is Bruce really serious about this relationship?

" Do we think that B is finally settling? " Dick asked and none of them were sure of the answer.

" I mean, he is always nice to his lovers and what not. Always trying to seduce... But he seems... Gentle? " Tim said as he zoomed in and everyone was now a bit more confused.

" So... He is settling down... The old man is settling down... Holy shit. Pigs can fly it seems. " Jason mumbled and everyone had agreed about it. For the first time in years, they have all agreed on something.

" The playboy of Gotham is settling down. What a time to be alive. " Dick joked and Tim huffed as he kept watching the live footage.

" It seems that the guy is into Bruce too... " Tim noted and Damian looked out the window for a moment.

" I didn't know that father is bisexual. " Damian noted, but there was no malice in his voice, just pure curiosity about his father as he leaned closer

" I mean, people of all genders hit on him so... Him being bisexual isn't an issue... I think it flatters him to a certain degree. "

" Oh, the lovebirds are holding hands. Oh my. " Jason noted as he craned his head to get a better look at the footage on the tablet.

" Is it just me or is B smiling more honestly? Like he isn't being pressured? " Dick asked and that was a new thing.

" I think that this confirms it. Bruce Thomas Wayne is settling down. The playboy is settling down. " Tim said, clearly shocked. " We need a background check on this guy. " Tim added and everyone agreed.

What if he was a gold digger? They couldn't have that. Bruce may have an eye out for such people and could see them from a mile away, so they may have trusted Bruce, but you never know. It's better to be safe then sorry.

" So we are doing a check on the man? " Jason asked to confirm it and everyone nodded.

" Oh yeah. The face is all that we need for a check. " Tim confirmed. Again, better safe then sorry.

" I think we can go back home before Bruce sees us here. " Dick said as he started the car again and started driving back to the manor.

" I'm not sure about you all, but I'm teasing the hell out of B tomorrow. " Jason said and they all laughed. Besides Damian, who simply smirked in his own Al Ghul way.

They'll have so much fun tomorrow.

All of the boys ventured down to the kitchen where Bruce was. The boys were all smirks as the entered, Bruce not noticing the expressions as his back was turned back to them.

There were a few good morning exchanged and they all took their coffees and sat down.

" Where were you yesterday B? " Dick started and Jason smirked behind his coffee cup. This was going to be a complete and utter shit show.

" I had some League matters to see through. " Bruce lied and Jason took the lead now.

" In one of the fanciest restaurants in Gotham? " Jason said and Bruce froze.

" What? "

" You were on a date and we know it. " Tim said, sipping his coffee peacefully as Bruce exploded inside.

" The playboy is settling down. " Damian added and Bruce let out a long sigh.

" Not now. "

" Look old man, it's all good. It's nice that the biggest playboy in the tri state area is retiring and finally settling down. " Jason chimed in.

" Don't tell me you are doing a background check? " Bruce asked, fearing the answer already.

" Nooo... " Jason drawled out.

" I'm going to work. Bye. " Bruce said as he left with his cup of coffee.

" Oh how nice B! It's nice to see you leave the playboy persona behind! " Jason yelled after Bruce and all the boys were all smirks as Bruce left.

" We won't let this go. " Damian said and they all nodded.

They won't let go for shit.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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marshmallowdarling · 2 months ago

Text

I'm having a few drinks in my room tonight and... John Price who is a nice guy, a bit strict and blunt but he puts the wellbeing of others above his own including you. Ol' you who is head over heel's for the captain but remains (almost) normal infront of him to not make yourself look like a fool but that gets thrown out the window when you see him at one of the local pubs. You have a glass and a half of whatever alcohol you choose that night in you and your not drunk, or even tipsy at this point but you use it as an excuse as you blurt out all the things that have been circling in your head. "Your ass looks great in every pants holy fuck how does that work, your ass looks better than mine-" "The strap on your thigh makes my mouth water- hey does your tip touch the-" "I never though I had a daddy kink and I dont but for Captain Price I would call him daddy in a heart beat-" "Do you think he would let me lick his curly happy trail and chest hair?" His team mates watch on with a mixture of amusement and shock since they had watched their captain mope around when he thought no-one was looking since he thought you didnt like him back. Now they were just needing to help you two get together.... Soap wanted to try first but Ghost quickly reigned him in since he knew the Scott would probably end up in a threesome but the masked man had to hold the other back by the scruff whenever you blurted out about their captain because the Scott's mind was running.... Poor thing now Ghost has to help his problem as Gaz sweet talks you :(

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cosyvelvetorchid · 15 days ago

Text

Emergency Contact

Based on an idea by @annurb

*********

Buck patted his turnouts and furrowed his brows as he looked around the rig. He bend forward and brushed an arm under the seats.

“Do I even want to ask what you’re doing?” Hen said.

“Uh.. I can’t find my phone.” He said checking his pockets for the third time.

“When did you last have it?” She asked.

“The hospital.” He answered remembering putting it down on the reception desk while he was deep in conversation with one of porters who had asked him about applying to join the department. “I think I left it at reception.”

“You really want us to turn the engine around for your phone?” Bobby asked incredulously from the front.

“Please?”

“Fine.” Bobby sighed. “But if we get a call on the way back we’re going to it and you’ll have to wait until after shift to get it.”

“Copy that, Cap.”

“It not healthy to be this attached to your phone.” Chim told him.

“I’m not!” He protested.

“Oh it’s not his phone he’s attached too.” Hen teased and Buck rolled his eyes and looked out of the window in a failed attempt to hide the flush to his cheeks.

She was absolutely right, though—it wasn’t his phone he’s was obsessed with but that it was it means of communication with Tommy when the universe dared to keep them apart by working opposite shifts.

It’s had been a world-wind 2 months and Bucks feet were barely ever on the ground Tommy had swept him off them so incredibly. For the first time in any relationship he’d been in he’d never once felt the need to ask or beg for attention—Tommy lavished him with it. If he couldn’t physically be there to cook dinner for him, or with him, or watch movies together or go hiking together, or just simply effortlessly be in each others presence, he was messaging or calling in his spare time during his shifts. And not for any real reason but to talk to his boyfriend.

Buck was already falling hard for the pilot.

“Make it quick, Buck.” Bobby said as the rig pulled up in front of the hospital.

Buck jumped down and jogged into the building.

“Firefighter Buckley, you miss us already?” Nurse Jasper said as he approached the desk.

He smiled. “Uh, I think I left my phone here?”

“Ah. It was yours! I put it in the staff room. Can you wait for just a sec? We got 3 nurses out with the flu so we’re run off our feet.”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you. Cindy?” She called to another nurse. “The lady in 204 needs her meds, and the gentleman in 207 needs his dressings changed. And I’d see to him first—he’s a grumpy one.”

“Is that the hot one?” Cindy swooned.

The other nurse rolled her eyes. “Cindy, this is a hospital and he is a patient.”

“A hot patient.” Cindy said back and Buck laughed.

“Just go and see to Mr Kinard before he gets even worse.”

Bucks heart shot up into his throat at the same time his stomach dropped a thousand feet.

“I-I’m sorry, did you just say Mr Kinard?”

“Yes.”

“Thomas Kinard?” He added just to be sure.

“Yeah. Do you..” Buck didn’t hear the rest of her words as he quickly left the desk for the corridor to find room 207.

A mixture of sadness, anger and relief hit him all at once when arrived at the room and saw Tommy through the window.

The man he- his boyfriend was laid on the bed—his left leg in a cast up to below his knee, a bandage wrapped around his right forearm and a stitches on the right side of his forehead surrounded by deep pinkish red bruising.

“What the hell, Tommy?!”

Tommy’s head shot up, his face a mixture of shock and sheepishness. “Shit.” He mumbled under his breath.

He’d hoped to be out of the hospital before he told Buck what had happened—ask for forgiveness not permission, right? He didn’t want to lie to him, and felt bad for doing so, but in the small amount of time they’d been dating he’d come to know that Buck would throw down his whole life to take care of the people he cared about.

It wasn’t that Tommy didn’t appreciate the sentiment, but he was fully capable of taking care of himself and was absolutely not going to be a burden on his boyfriend.

“What the hell happened?! Why are you here? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?!” The words all melded into one almost indecipherable sentence.

“I’m fine, Evan.” He protested as he squirmed in his bed trying to give off the air of someone who was absolutely totally fine and not at all beginning to regret refusing pain meds from the nurses.

“You’ve got to be kidding me? You’re in hospital Tommy. With obviously a broken leg and other injuries.” He gestured to Tommy’s arm and face. Buck was immediately reminded of his own near career-ending leg injury and fear fizzed its way around his body as he looked at Tommys leg.

Buck was angry as hell that Tommy, or anybody, hadn’t told him that he’d gotten injured, but overshadowing all of that was sadness and worry that Tommy was hurt.

Tommy hated the worried look on Bucks face. “It’s a basic leg break, a few weeks in a cast and some PT and I’ll be back to normal. Really, it’s nothing to worry about.” He argued.

Though that did alleviate Bucks worries a small amount, he still had to breathe away that anger that was trying its damndest to rise up. “Tommy, being fine is not the issue here—you were hurt and you didn’t tell me.”

“There was no point—there’s nothing that you could do. There was no point worrying you.”

“You’re my boyfriend—I’m going to worry regardless.” He told him. “And it’s not about being able to do anything, it’s about wanting to know that you’re okay and being there for you.”

“Yeah, but then you’d insist on taking care of me, which I don’t need you to do.” His voice had an edge of strain to it. He was getting frustrated. This was the reason he hadn’t told Buck—he didn’t need anybody worrying about him.

“I know you’re capable of looking after yourself, Tommy, that’s not- wait.. how long have you been in here?”

Tommy looked away from Buck before he answered. “Two days.” He answered quietly.

“Two days?! So, the whole time you were texting me telling me you were at home resting on your 48 off you were lying to me?!”

“Evan..” Tommy reached out for Bucks hand but he stepped back. Tommy felt a pull on his heart at the rejection. It was the first time since they’d become a couple that Buck had rejected any physical touch from Tommy.

It was one of Tommy’s favourite things about Buck—how tactile he was. Mostly because he was the same. Physical touch was a big love language of his and having a boyfriend who so readily gave it and received it felt wonderful.

“No. You.. you lied to me, Tommy. I-I don’t know what’s worse. That, or that you didn’t think it was important for me to know that you were injured.”

Tears were threatening his eyes. He felt stupid. He thought things with Tommy were different—that he’d found someone who wanted him around.

“Is everybody in the dark or was it just me?” He asked not being able to hold the contempt out of his voice.

“No, nobody knows. Well, aside from my captain. He’d have noticed when I didn’t turn up for my shift.” He huffed a small laugh which did not go down well with Buck.

“This isn’t funny, Tommy. None of this is. What even happened?”

“Engine hoist chain snapped while I was working on my car. Engine landed on my leg and the chain hit me on the arm and face.”

Bucks heart cracked open at the image in his mind of Tommy trapped in his own garage, alone and in pain.

“And you didn’t think to call me?”

“I was too preoccupied with trying to get an engine off my leg, Evan. Besides, I called 911 straight away.”

Buck was having a hard time with this. His boyfriend hurts himself in a way that could have been much more serious, and spent two days alone in the hospital and nobody was there for him?

“You said nobody else knows?” He asked and Tommy shook his head. “Did they not call your emergency contact?”

“I don’t have one listed.” He said plainly.

“Why? You’re an emergency responder—you know how important it is to have someone to make decisions on your behalf if you can’t.”

“I‘ve never had anybody to put down!” Tommy’s voice was raised which surprised them both. Tommy’s frustration was getting the better of him. The problem was Buck had always looked at Tommy like a hero; a big and brave and confident man who had his shit together. And okay, he may have those tendencies now on the surface, but underneath all of it was a man with a lifetime of trauma he was still unpacking at the age of 40. They were early enough in their relationship that he hadn’t felt comfortable talking about it all yet.

If there was one thing he admired the most about Evan it was that he wore his heart on his sleeve and that had the ability to be open and honest about himself and how he felt. Tommy knew that his boyfriend probably wouldn’t run a mile when, if, he told him about his childhood, but by his own previous experiences in relationships, there was always that chance.

But, he had to give something. The fact was he was falling for Evan and it utterly terrified him. It terrified him that Evan would figure out who he really was and want nothing to do with him. But what was more terrifying was losing him.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. “Evan, it’s been a long time since I’ve had anybody in my life that actually gave a shit about me. And I had come to terms with that—I get by just fine on my own.”

Buck’s heart broke hearing that. His parents hadn’t exactly been there for him growing up but he at least had Maddie taking care of him. Maddie was always there when he needed someone; always his biggest champion.

“Tommy..” Buck pulled up a chair and sat close to the bed, taking Tommy’s hand in his. “I know you’re fully capable of taking care of yourself, but.. I’m here. I’m in your life now and-and I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this shit alone anymore.”

He concentrated on not allowing the tears to spill over. He knew what would happen—Tommy would immediately focus on him and comforting him, which Buck didn’t want. Tommy was the one who needed comforting.

Even if his stubborn ass couldn’t accept it.

“It’s not easy for me; to let someone be there. I don’t want to be a burden to anybody.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“You’re not a burden, Tommy. You’re my boyfriend—I want to take care of you. And-and not out of obligation or because you’re incapable, but because I-“ He had to stop “L” word from falling out of his mouth. “-care about you. A lot. But you have to let me.”

Tommy looked into Buck always earnest eyes and his mouth moved into a soft smile.

“Okay.” He conceded.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Buck smiled standing up.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked.

“To tell Bobby that I need the rest of the shift off, and to get the forms you need to fill in to make me your emergency contact.” Tommy opened his mouth but Buck didn’t let him speak. “Look, it doesn’t have to be me if you don’t want that—you can put down Bobby. Or even Hen or Chim—I know none of them would mind. Don’t argue with me on this Tommy—you’re not leaving this hospital without someone on those forms.”

Bucks face was stern, but with an underlying current of affection that Tommy couldn’t say no to.

“I was going to say that I want it to be you.” He told him.

“Okay then.” Buck said with a smile, walking to the door. “Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgiven you for lying to me. You’ve got a lot to work to do to make it up to me, Kinard.” The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small smile telling Tommy that it would be okay.

“Whatever it takes.” He said back.

#911 abc #911 #911onabc #tommy kinard #bucktommy #911 buck #evan buckley #buck x tommy #evan buck buckely #bucktommy fic #tevan #tevan fic

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natalievoncatte · 2 months ago

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The heat was getting to be a problem.

The power had been out in National City for three days, and those three days were expected to be among the hottest of the year. Lena was, frankly, desperate.

You might think that she’d have it easy, but anyone who would think that a penthouse in a skyscraper would be easy to cool would quickly be disabused of that notion. The windows mostly didn’t open and having the balcony doors spread wide did next to nothing when the breeze felt like opening an oven, even up here.

It had been Alex’s suggestion, sent by text.

Why don’t you go to Kara’s? The loft is pretty breezy.

She was right, of course. When Lena arrived, Kara had every one of her huge loft windows open, allowing the breeze to flow freely through the open, airy space.

There was another problem, though.

When Kara opened the door, Lena nearly keeled over. Kara was wearing a sports bra and shorts so short they barely deserved the name, exposing a vast amount of golden, sun-kissed skin. Worse, her gloriously muscled stomach and shoulders glistened with sweat.

Lena was surprised to see that the heat bothered her, but it clearly did. Kara had forgone her glasses, too, and after she opened the door, she swept the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed.

“Hi,” Lena squeaked.

“Hi yourself. Hot out there?”

“It’s hot in here.”

“Come in, come in,” said Kara.

Lena stepped inside, forcing herself not to stare at Kara’s thick thighs and the swell of her chest under straining fabric. Was that zipper some advanced Kryptonian technology?

“Want something to drink?”

“Isn’t your fridge dead, too?”

“Yeah, but I cheat. Watch.”

Kara slipped a bottle of water out of a pack on her counter and breathed on it. Ice crystals formed on the surface and the water visibly chilled. It shocked Lena when she accepted it and the cold water on her lips was bliss. Lena let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of cold spreading through her chest, cooling her body.

When she opened her eyes, Kara was the one staring. Lena had thrown on a short, a-frame sun dress that bared her back, for no other reason than making sure that her skin could have as much surface exposed to the air to evaporate and cool her down as possible.

“So what are you up to?” Lena asked.

Kara gestured to the notebook and stacks of papers on the table.

“Old-fashioned journalism, I guess. My laptop battery died yesterday.”

“I thought you’d be out there trying to fix the power.”

Kara shrugged. “With what, my super-electrician powers?”

Lena shot her a look, raising her brow.

Kara turned away, heading for the windows.

Oh, Jesus, Lena thought.

It wasn’t as if Lena hadn’t… noticed Kara’s physique. She wasn’t blind, after all. They’d taken spin class together, and Kara liked to wear leggings on the weekends.

But holy shit, those shorts made her ass look… Super.

Lena was still fumbling over a buns of steel pun in her head when Kara turned back.

“Hey, you okay? Your heart raced for a second there.”

“F-fine,” said Lena.

“Alex and the others are coming over tonight for an emergency game night,” said Kara. “I better get ready.”

For the next couple of hours, Lena helped Kara neaten up her apartment and prepare non-perishable snacks and a cooler full of beer and wine coolers, chilled care of Kara. Alex and Kelly were the first to show up, with Alex giving Lena a cheeky look as she walked into the apartment.

“Hey, you two,” she said. “Been having a hot time?”

There was something brittle in Kara’s laugh that set Lena a little on edge, and the Danvers sisters shared one of those looks they shared that made Lena wonder if they could communicate telepathically. Whatever the message was, it made Kara look away first, distracting with an offered beer that Alex gladly accepted.

Lena took a wine cooler, wishing it were wine.

Nia and Brainy showed up next, followed by J’onn, who was the only one fully dressed in a button-down shirt and khakis, while everyone else was dressed for the beach or a track meet.

Lena sat on the floor, because the hardwood was cool under her butt, and leaned back against Kara’s couch. Kara sat beside her and Lena’s heart definitely sped up.

Looking over, it was hard to tear her eyes away. Kara made a magnificent display- the blocky weight of her shoulders, full biceps and strong arms and bulky, sculpted forearms. Lena’s eyes followed the vein on the back of Kara’s arm down the back of her strong hand and the elegant lengths of her fingers.

Kara kept her nails neatly trimmed like that because of Supergirl duties, right?

Right?

“Hey Luthor? You having a heat stroke?” said Alex. “You look spaced out over there.”

Alex had a playful grin plastered on her face, though she too was sweating profusely. A cooler breeze rolled in through the big windows and everyone sighed in delight.

Except J’onn. “What shall we play first?” she said.

“Clue!” Nia chirped.

“Brainy always kicks our ass at Clue,” said Alex, “and I am not playing Monopoly with a literal billionaire again.”

“Perhaps we should play Risk,” said J’onn, rifling through the game shelf.

“We could try Twisted,” Kara suggested in a deadpan voice.

Lena swallowed hard, thinking of herself tangled up on the mat with Kara, clothes glued to their skin by sweat, salty skin sliding against salty skin, the scent of her…

“Earth to Lena,” said Alex. “Got any ideas?”

“Exploding Kittens,” said Lena. “We haven’t done that one in a while.”

“Kara, chill us some cold ones, will you?” said Nia.

Once everyone had a rapidly warming drink, Brainy dealt the cards and the game began. Alex called Kara out for peeking several times, with that loaded Danvers Sisters Look and an almost predatory smirk.

She wasn’t the only one peeking.

Lena participate in the game but her mind was elsewhere, specifically the valley of Kara’s broad back, where sweat gathered between her muscles and rain down in heavy beads, or the sweat gathering along her collarbone or sparking along the lush inner curves of her tightly contained breasts.

“Hey,” said Kara. “It’s your turn, Lena.”

Then she reached over and brushed damp lock of inky hair out of Lena’s eyes.

She could have melted. She swallowed hard, brushed the sweat from her brow, and made a hasty and wasteful play that would probably cost her any chance of winning, but she didn’t care. The game seemed at most a distant concern.

Kara’s tongue glazing along her soft pink lips was much more interesting. They’d pretty much all given up on makeup but Kara was still positively radiant, soft and inviting and homey in a way that made Lena ache in her chest.

And, uh, other places.

It was full dark now, so they finished the game and Kara and Alex got up to light a few candles.

“This is like camping,” said Nia.

“We should have thought to procure ‘marshmallows’, said Brainy. “Kara could toast them with her heat vision.”

“We hardly need more heat. I’m boiling,” said Lena.

J’onn let out a soft grunt. “It’s my turn to go on patrol. I think I’ll be the first to head out.

Everyone gave their goodbyes as he headed out the window. The others huddled closer around the table, lit by the candle sitting in the middle.

“We should tell scary stories,” said Alex. “Like around a campfire.”

“Since it was your idea, you go first,” said Kelly.

Alex leaned into it with abandon, leaning in over the table as she started spinning a campfire yarn that Lena quickly recognized as The Hook.

Kara edged closer, until her bare thigh pressed against Lena. She leaned in close, and it wouldn’t have taken much for Lena to… rest her head on Kara’s shoulder. It just kind of happened, Kara’s scent filling her nostrils as she turned into Kara.

Lena flinched as Kara shot her a concerned look.

She can hear my heartbeat.

Kara must have thought Lena was scared, because she casually slipped an arm around her.

Lena’s breath caught. Kara’s powerful arm rested lazily around her hip and her relaxed hand rested on Lena’s thigh, fingers placed lightly on bare skin.

It was a powerfully possessive gesture, not just protective but… more. Lena shifted a little and let herself completely fall against Kara.

Alex kept on telling the story, her gaze pausing heavily on the two of them as she scanned the room. Brainy looked bored but Nia looked genuinely petrified and Kelly was looking at her wife with the kind of adoring reference that was currently plastered on Lena’s face as she looked up at Kara.

Alex reached the crescendo of the story and Lena let out a little gasp, turning her face into Kara’s neck, more for the sake of it than out of fear. Kara’s hand stroked lazily up and down her back.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone get you,” Kara whispered.

“You two okay over there?” said Alex.

“Fine,” said Kara.

“There are two actual couples here and you two are the ones doing the heavy petting.”

They weren’t heavy petting. Okay sure, Lena had her fingers curled around Kara’s hip and Kara’s hand was staring to pass the platonic zone when stroking her back but…

Oh.

“It’s getting late,” said Kelly. “Maybe we should head home.”

“Agreed,” said Nia. “Come on, Brainy.”

Lena and Kara didn’t get up.

The others did, piling out of the apartment. Alex went last, shooting Kara another of those damned looks, smiling like a self-satisfied cat after a big stretch.

The door closed and Kara yawned.

“Mind if I stay?” Lena said, quickly. “My place is just too hot to sleep.”

“Of course,” Kara said softly.

Lena didn’t move. They were alone now, the apartment dark except for candles that threw flickering shadows and made Kara even more ethereal. Lena could barely believe someone so gorgeous could be real.

“Lena,” Kara said quietly. “Have you ever thought about…” she trailed off.

“About what?”

“Us. What we are to each other.”

“Yes,” said Lena.

“Me too.”

“What are you thinking?” Lena asked.

“You’re my best friend. You mean more to me than basically anyone else, and the thought of you has kept me going through some really dark times.”

When Kara smiled for her, her eyes lit up, sparkling in the candlelight, like moonlight dancing on nighttime waves. She was entrancing.

“I…” Lena began. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as just a friend. There’s more on the table if you want it.”

“More like… kissing?”

“Yes, exactly.”

This was actually happening. It was real, not a daydream or a fantasy. Kara moved with agonizing slowness, full of a gentle, kind intensity as she leaned down and lightly brushed her lips across Lena’s.

It was like being tossed in a tub of ice water… in a good way. Lena shivered as Kara cupped her jaw and went for another kiss, more forcefully this time, more insistent. The breathed as one.

“Kara,” Lena whispered.

She couldn’t help it. Lena dragged her tongue over Kara’s skin, tasting the sweat pooled at the base of her neck. Kara let out a low moan followed by a deep basso rumble in her chest, pulsating in time with her breathing.

“Did you just lick my sweat?”

“Are you purring?!”

Kara giggled. “I can do lots of things.”

Lena looked up at her with lidded eyes. “Oh yeah? Show me what you got.”

She squeaked as Kara picked her up in a single smooth motion, and with a self-satisfied smirk, carried her towards the bed.

Later, as they lay in a tangle of perspiring limbs atop sweat-soaked sheets, the power thumped back on and the air conditioning began to blow over them, chilling Lena’s skin.

She barely noticed.

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