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frost-queen · 7 months

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To have and keep (Reader!Scratch x Weird sisters)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

A/n: I apologize for the shortness of it, but I wanted to write something with little time.

You rushed out of your room, your brother waiting for you outside. – “Got everything?” – he asked removing himself from against the wall. You hummed loud with your backpack strap hanging over one shoulder. – “I’m actually quite excited about doing classes outside.” – you told him as he followed your pace. Nick scratched the back of his head with a nod. – “Yeah sure it is something else.” – he answered.

You nudged him in the rib for his obvious lack of enthusiasm. – “What?” – Nick said smirking. – “Nothing just your enthusiasm is to die for.” – you responded with a laugh. – “That could be arranged sister.” – he came leaning in closer with a wide smile. Shoving him away from you, you rolled with your eyes. Hiding that smile on your lips. Nick and you rounded the corner coming into the open hall with the statue of the dark lord.

By the entrance stood the Weird sisters. They turned at the same time making Nick quirk his eyebrow up. Elegantly they walked in sync over to you. – “Y/n.” – Prudence purred out with a catty smile. – “You must be cold darling.” – She snapped with her finger as Agatha undid her of her jacket.

“We wouldn’t want you to have a cold in this lovely weather.” – Agatha spoke placing the jacket over your shoulders. Nick furrowed his brows. – “Why are you so tentative to my sister?” – he questioned dumbfound by their charm towards you.

Dorcas sighed deep with a shake of her head. – “Little Nickie.” – she said belittling him a bit. Nick gave her a disgusted look, clearly not liking her tone as she grabbed his shoulders. – “We like your sister.” – she whispered in his ear. Nick brushed her off him, brushing his hand over his ear with a shudder. – “We adore her.” – Agatha said hugging you from the side. Prudence stared at Nick. – “She is ours to share.” – she stated as Nick pulled you back.

“Not in hell.” – Nick answered with mockery in his voice. Prudence pulled her lip up in annoyance. – “Nick.” – you said gently touching his arm. – “It’s alright. They are very gentle with me. I promise you they aren’t doing anything weird with me.” – you reassured him. – “They better not.” – Nick answered brushing his thumb down your cheek.

Agatha cleared her throat wanting your attention again. Dorcas grabbed your hand pulling you closer to them. – “Come Y/n let us escort you to class.” – Prudence said wrapping an arm around you. Dorcas took your other arm, letting her head lean against your arm.

Nick sighed deep going after you. The Weird sister’s couldn’t stop touching you, wanting you close. A cool breeze swept some leaves over the ground. The coming of October slowly announcing itself. A glamorous season for witches.

Prudence closed your jacket better so no wind could draft underneath your clothing. – “Warm kitten?” – Prudence asked while Dorcas was stroking your arm. You hummed softly seeing your brother roll his eyes behind you. Nick came closer pestering the Weird sisters away like a flock of annoying birds. Waving his hand around for them to move. They hissed at him, clamping even harder onto you.

“Oh get over it!” – Nick called out annoyed taking you by the arm. He pulled you away from them. The Weird sisters started to cry and whine loudly at the loss of you. – “Babies.” – Nick told you as he kept pushing you away from them. – “Don’t you ever get annoyed with them?” – he asked. You had to think for a second. – “Not really… sure they can be invasive, but they are always gentle and sweet with me. Unlike any stunts they performed on Sabrina.” – you and Nick recalled it very clearly how wicked the Weird sisters were towards Sabrina Spellman when she first came to the academy.

They never did any tricks like that on you for some reason. It was as if you had charmed them by just being present. They worshipped you. Nick and you walked into the forest close to the academy to where the class would be held. Some leaves already started to fall. Leaving you with that cozy end of September feeling. Fall was your favorite season. Pale trees. Crunchy leaves scattered on the ground. Pumpkins, full moons, and witchy hours.

By the witches circle of mushrooms stood Sabrina. She waved at Nick. Nick and you waved back at her. Nick patted you on the back going over to her. The moment Nick had left your side, you felt a pair of hands grab onto you. Getting pulled a bit back, there were more hands on you. – “Little kitten I have missed you.” – Prudence said brushing her cheek against your shoulder.

Agatha nodded with pouted lips letting her head rub against your upper arm. Dorcas stood on the other side stroking your arm with delight. The three of them guided you towards the witches circle forcing you to sit down. Agatha came laying her head down on your lap. Dorcas and Prudence each by your side. Dorcas took out your book, holding it open for you.

“Can you read it well enough?” – she asked holding it up. You nodded with a soft hum taking the book from her. – “Shall I take your notes Y/n?” – Prudence offered. – “That is alright Prudence.” – you told her. Agatha looked up to you with sweet eyes. – “Pretty sister.” – she said humming afterwards. Prudence nodded. – “If you didn’t have a blood link with Nickie, you’d be our fourth sister in a heartbeat.” – she said.

The teacher arrived as he didn’t say anything about how the Weird Sisters hung over you. Dorcas kissed your cheek sweetly during class. Agatha played a bit with your hand as Prudence kept brushing her hand over your back. It was still a bit of a mystery how the Weird sisters came to like you. From across the witches circle you saw your brother shake his head in disappointment. You simply shrugged your shoulders not even minding that much.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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mxxny-lupin · 4 months

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#gortash x durge #bg3 astarion #gale bg3 #bg3 smut imagines #caos smut #marvel smut #mha smut #haikyuu smut #iwtv smut #nick scratch x reader smut #moon talks #꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months

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Hit me with Scream or Wednesday requests! Or any other spooky related characters (I've seen CAOS, AHS murder house and Coven, BTVS, True blood, Blood ties, and more)

#ethan landry #billy loomis #xavier thorpe #ajax petropolus #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis imagine #billy loomis x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #ajax petropolus x reader #nick scratch #tate langdon

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thebisexualdogdad · 2 years

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“ kiss me, i’m miserable. “ with Nick Scratch who’s dating Morningstar Reader? It’s been a long day of meetings and we zap Nicky down to the infernal throne room where we’re draped over the throne dramatically. “Nicky!!! Bored!”

"Well son I think you made a good impression on the council," your father Lucifer tells you.

"Yeah whatever," you sigh.

"What's wrong my boy?" He questions.

"Why must I waste my days in meetings trying to appease some cranky old demons when i could be torturing souls in the deepest pits of hell," you groan.

"Because that is what the king of hell must do, it's not all torture and destruction," your father informs you, "or must I remind you that there are others who would happily take the future throne from you, young Caliban would make an excellent king."

"Very funny father, the only thing Caliban is good for is looking pretty," you snicker.

"Your sister Sabrina perhaps then," he grins.

"Half sister," you iterate, "and she is too weak, she cares too much about the mortals she would never take the throne from me," you scoff.

"Then maybe you should start acting like a king and quit your complaining," he states.

"Yes father," you say, rolling your eyes and teleporting yourself to the throne room.

You lay across the throne, your legs draping over the side of the chair.

"I know how to brighten the mood," you say and snap your fingers, Nick appearing in front of you in just a towel, "kiss me I'm miserable!"

"Y/N I was in the middle of showering," he says with water droplets running down his abs.

"But Nicky! I'm so bored!" You say dramatically.

"My little drama king," Nick chuckles.

"That's future king of hell mister," you huff.

Nick takes a seat in your lap and kisses you.

"You're getting me all wet," you mutter against his lips.

"That's what she said," he laughs, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

"Mortal humor," you reply, "now how about I rid you of this forsaken towel and we do things so sinful even demons would blush."

"It would be my honor, my king," he smiles, kissing you again as he lets you remove the towel from around his waist giving you the glorious view of his fully nude body.

#chilling adventures of sabrina imagine #nick scratch imagine #nick scratch x reader #x male reader #fic

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habrina-was-wronged · 2 years

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it has been 650+ days since that awful part 4 was released. Thats over 2 years. If anyone is curious.

it has been 310+ days since the first "crossover" episode where Sabrina Spellman showed up in "River Vale" and helped with some magic or whatever that was...

it has been 95+ days since the 2nd "crossover" episode where nick scratch showed up in jughead's body and called sabrina "brina" *bc thats something he does now.. its not at all like hes a "warlock harvey" like ive always thought.*

theres no comic book part 5 of chilling adventures of sabrina having been relased.

theres no special/movie or anything else either.

i guess ras is too busy with the pretty little liars remake which is a flop.

and too busy with the last season of riverdale which is a even BIGGER flop, if u could believe it.

all i want.

ALL I WANT-

is a reboot of chilling adventures of sabrina where sabrina is older, and gets together with harvey. their relationship gets a second chance. some plot holes are explained and harvey kinkle is treted as a main character again, like he was in "season" slash part 1. maybe harvey finally finds out that the mines "accident" wasn't an accident and finds out that both sabrina and roz knew about it.

maybe he gets some angel powers like in the novels slash maybe not.

no nick scratch being a "warlock harvey" that keeps pissing me off. no harvalind being a budget harvey&sabrina relationship *except even more boring*.

i wouldn't mind roz and nick being a couple now that roz is a witch too. *not just as a second-rate version of sabrina, please and thank you*

*and no. i don't care about IRL couples. I don't care that Ross and Jaz are dating in real life. THEY BOTH SIGNED UP TO ACT. SO THEY SHOULD F**KING ACT. REGARDLESS .OF .WHO .THEY .ARE .DATING .IN .REAL .LIFE!!!*

thank you for coming to my ted talk

now get the ball rolling. please and thank you.

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 2 years

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ive read your “the king of hearts - ethan dolan” too many times to count 😭 have you wrote anything like it? or know a wattpad or book like it?

Depends if you are looking exclusively for DT fics or wider. Also depends on which aspect you liked more: royal vibes or soulmate ones.

There's Dear Soulmate [Ethan], Save him from himself [Ethan], Feel good kind of love [Ethan], Fix me [Ethan] and Hurt, Broken wings (Grayson), Polar opposites (Grayson), The bad guy (Grayson), Meant to be (Grayson) and No strings attached that has the soulmate aspect and Wicked (Grayson) and the Greek God series (both twins) that have both the royalty and soulmate vibes.

As for other series, you can find:

1. Shawn Mendes: The princess, for royal vibe and Take a chance, Love in rewind, About us, Young wolf, My last heartbeat and Fallin all in you for soulmate vibes.

2. Peter Parker: Arch nemesis has soulmate vibes.

3. Fate the winx saga: Intertwining and the Ice Queen (Sky) have a mesh of soulmate/royal vibes, Come back to me (Riven) has soulmate vibes, Consequences and Soulmate (Saul) have soulmate vibes while Princess has both soulmate and royalty vibes.

4. The darkling: Broken trust, Draw your swords and Illuminated all have soulmate and royalty vibes.

5. Sirius Black: Snow kisses mini series has soulmate vibes.

6. Game of thrones: Northern lights series has soulmate and royalty vibes and it's ongoing on Wattpad.

7. Dean Winchester: It was her mini series has soulmate vibes.

8. Nick Scratch: Let him go mini series has soulmate vibes.

9. Twilight: Thunder & Lightining and Wildest dreams (Paul Lahote), Total eclipse of a heart (Embry Call) with soulmate vibes.

#twilight #dolan twins #the darkling #fate the winx saga #sirius black #game of thrones #dean winchester #nick scratch #peter parker imagine #shawn mendes

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smuttyfandomgalore · 9 months

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I miss Nick Scratch

#nick scratch #chilling adventures of sabrina imagine

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yououghtaknow · 11 months

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wait everyone hold the fucking phone. genuinely teared up thinking about christian and nick braxton daddy knows best spongebob the musical.

#thought process for this: wow this song is good. i love it when songs are about begging your parents to hear/see you.#omg imagine a musical with a parental song like that and then a reprise for their lover because Cycles #omg this happened to my friend nick braxton (daddy issues haver and capitalism hater)#i can recognise that if the entirety of skambr was a musical it would be worse. but by god would it be fun for me personally.#nick braxton voice daddy can you hear me????? CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW??????????#VS nick in you oughta know voice every time i scratch my nails down someone else's back i hope you feel it CAN YOU FEEL IT?????

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dragon-ascent · 2 months

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Imagine playing with tiny chonk Zhongli, and he accidentally scratches you.

You're up to your usual shenanigans with your tiny dragon husband, holding his paws, making him dance around for your amusement, keeping him perched on your shoulder while you pretend you're on a quest to earn gym badges and become a champion, the like.

Except while he's on you, he loses his foothold and slides down - his clawed little paw nicking your arm in the process.

"Oh!" It's not a big deal, really; you rub the insignificant scratch mark that's not even bleeding and make to pick Chonkli back up, but the look on his furry little face suggests he'd just murdered you.

Then, he lets out a squeaky little scream.

Chonky Zhongli whines and rolls around in repentance, his fluffy little body knocking into all the furniture in the process - but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Zhong, I'm fine, seriously-" You scoop him up, but he only wiggles erratically, evoking the image of a fat little brown noodle. He licks your arm and paws at it sorrowfully, tail drooping.

Your lover stays latched onto your arm all morning, his body wrapped around it like a soft sleeve. At some point he even falls asleep like that.

He doesn't seem to let this incident go later on, either: in the afternoon when you lay down to take a nap, he comes and sits on your chest - "Oof," you mutter - so that he can guard you while you rest. His way of apologizing, but all he does honestly is smoosh your respiratory system. Cutely. He also reaches over and licks your arm where he's scratched you, but the mark is long gone so who knows what he's trying to achieve.

...later on in human form, Zhongli continues to treat you like a delicate little flower. He trims his already-short nails, yet ultimately settles for using his gloves while touching you. (Even his touches have all the precision and gentleness of a surgeon...)

#sini writes #genshin impact #zhongli #fluff #zhongli x reader #dragon #chonkli

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undercoverpena · 5 months

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coming under the christmas tree

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue. “Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

warnings: explicit. 18+. smut. literal porn from me. oral (m recieving), p in v, praise (jo has a thing, run with it), frankie being gorgeous, minor cock worship, christmas themes.

wordcount: 2.8k an: i wrote this little imagine and then the gorgeous, wonderful @wildemaven created this moodboard (which inspired the banner) and then i decided to write more.

Putting up a tree with anyone is a chore, but with him, it’s a blessing.

It isn’t because it’s him, because you’re dating, because he makes you laugh and makes your toes curl at any time of the day. But, rather, because he wants to do it. Because he’s methodical. Always thinking, turning—planning.

Whether it’s routes to get somewhere, timing on when to leave when the two of you have reservations or whether your grand plans for a room rearrangement, Frankie plots it out and makes measurements in his head. He’s always right, not that he ever gloats—just nods as though it’s entirely normal.

It isn’t—it’s fucking hot.

Something you expect, and thankfully do, come face to face with when the branches are all in place on the half-dressed Christmas tree. The clear plastic boxes strewn across the living room, his fingers slowly undoing and unknotting the lights you’d haphazardly thrown in the box last year.

You know the answer, but you ask all the same: “You want me to help with that?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives you a look. A blend of ‘be serious’ and ‘you’re good’ cuts across his features, making his eyes warmer and his smile kinder.

Before he even sets about winding them through the branches, you can tell he’s created a light-path. Already heard him mumbling that they don’t go all the way around, remember earlier. His eyes glancing up at it, making mental notes, calculating a route—brown eyes skating and shifting side to side.

You just remain on the floor, legs crossed—checking over the ornaments for nicks or scratches—admiring. You do it a lot, admire him, take him in—gawk, trace your eyes over him so when you blink you don’t waste a second not seeing him.

“We can always buy another set?” you offer, watching him bend behind the armchair, plugging them in, plunging the room in a soft, white glow.

Grinning, Frankie brushes some loose strands from over his eyes, “No need, baby. I’ve got it.”

He does. You weren’t surprised his devised path makes the base of the tree already look full—no section unlit, each bit of cable hidden from sight, blending perfectly with the tree. You were even sure if you turned it 180, the back currently in the corner would even be lit.

It isn’t that which makes your mouth drool.

It also isn’t the way the twinkle of the lights has hit the brown of his eyes when he lets his gaze fall to you, making it appear like a galaxy has burst in them—a sky full of stars, all staring at you.

No. It’s the way the entirety of him is lit up. Practically glowing. It enhances how stretched out he is, practically in a straight line. His arms above his head, fingers delicately wrapping the lights around the tip of the tree. It shines light over the slither of skin exposed from his shirt rising; it makes it more evident that his tongue is poking out, resting on his bottom lip, eyes trained on the job at hand, his priority, his task.

You flutter around nothing.

Feel your heart stammer in your chest as you devour the sight of him whole.

Placing the ornament in the good-to-hang pile, you don’t even pretend to glance at it. Too busy drinking in the sight of the lines on his arms from flexing—those strong, arms which carried the tree down from the attic. Little beads of sweat had clung to his forehead then, having needed to shift things around, move them—move baby, don’t want you to get hurt.

You were something akin to pain now. Desperate, needy and fucking feral. Your throat all dry while your tongue felt heavy, eyes sliding down his frame, focusing on the hairs on his stomach, all exposed, beckoning to be touched, to have your tongue slide down over it.

You only blink when he clears his throat, looking up, finding his eyes on you—tracing over your face, slightly narrowed, attempting to read you.

Another day, you might shy away from it. Look away first, wait until he calls your name and pleads for you to look at him. Today, you don’t. Slowly rising onto your knees, holding his stare, commanding him to blink as little as possible:

Watch me, Morales. Keep your eyes on me.

Sliding your tongue across your bottom lip, your teeth finding a resting place on it—fingers sliding to his hips, watching his hand release the lights, forehead smoothing, any and all confusing lines fading away.

The way he whispers your name should be a sin—it coating the air, making each letter feel important, essential—as your hands find his belt, undoing it, the sound cutting through all else, even burying a whispered expletive that falls from his tongue.

“Do you know how hot you look right now, Morales?”

Your fingers undo the button, tracing your tongue again over your lip—hungry, practically salivating—as you slide the zip through the teeth. His gaze is still on you, unwavering, a shadow of surprise in the back of his eyes that this is even happening—as though he is still taken back by the fact he deserves this, deserves you.

“You want me to suck your cock, baby?”

His swallow fills the room—loud, vociferous. Your palm brushes over the hardened bulge, tracing the outline over the thin cotton which remained a barrier between his velvet skin and your tongue.

“I really wanna suck your cock,” you add, purring, practically drooling as you notice the wet stain appearing—blooming, stretching out—as one hand falls from the tree, cupping the side of your mouth.

You like him like this, quiet, taken off guard. So often it is him doing it to you, saying all the right things, whispering all the words which make your skin feel like fire.

When you finally let his cock spring free, you waste no time licking a stripe up the side, tongue flat, brushing over veins as your hands tease the fabric down to the tops of his knees, resting on the jeans that remain there, pointless, likely mildly annoying for him. Not that he’ll care in a second. Less so for now when your fingers wrap around him, take his girth in your palm, warmth spreading over your palm as you slowly pump him up and down, collecting your first few hisses, and a little groan.

You marvel at him—at his cock. How thick it is, how long. How you know it feels between your thighs, how it makes your toes curl. Pressing kissing to the leaking tip, wrapping your lips around the head, hand working the length of him as you make your lips slick, coat them in desire, before you take as much of him as you can. Your tongue pressed to the underside, mouth basked in the taste of salt and just him, as your jaw stretched to accommodate him, to willfully take more, and more.

“Don’t know—fuck, baby—what I did to deserve you.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, burning under the praise, under his praise. Your head bobbing, wanting to show gratitude by taking more of him. Cheeks hollowing, his fingers sliding around the back of your head, a comforting hold, a calming one as you relax your throat, wanting to be full of him. Fiercely so.

Tears even prick at your eyes, and your fingers dig into the back of his thighs, lifting off, swirling your tongue around him, running your teeth lightly over him, before swallowing as much of him as you can. Willing for him to smear your throat in him, leave you tasting him with each swallow for the rest of the afternoon.

“Wanna fin—fuck—ish inside you,” he grunts, curls plastered to his forehead, cheeks flushed—neck stained in pink.

You moan in response, closing your lips around him as you’re sure your underwear is clinging to you, drenched in want.

You’re half-tempted to slide your fingers inside the band of your shorts, passed the red lace you chose this morning, not even sure if you’d be unwrapped before or after the erection of the tree. Midway through hadn’t crossed your mind. Had never counted on this, never would have made a bet.

But, then he drags himself out, tip hovering at your lips giving you a look—sharp, uncharacteristic of him. “I want to fuck you, baby. Make you feel good.”

Tongue swirling over, he appears to shudder, eyes fluttering, before he pulls the rest free from your mouth. Spit smearing your lip, snapped in the space between where the two of you had been connected.

“You always make me feel good, Frankie.”

Smirking, his arm flexes briefly as he takes hold of his cock. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

And you don’t miss the reference. Not so drunk on him that you don’t remember your own words from before—but you just nod. A retort growing and dying, as you do.

“Spread your legs and show me.”

And you do. Leaning back, sliding onto your rear, your fingers slide your clothing down your legs, kicking it off past your ankles, passed the fluffy socks you’d stolen from him. Bare from the waist down, just for him—always for him. Letting your arms support you from behind, you tilt your head. In awe of him once again as he wraps his hand around his cock, the size even more impressive when you know how big his hands are—your own nails digging into the rug under your palms and ass.

“C’mon, show me you want me.”

You whimper, spreading your knees, letting them part until they’re hovering just above the floor on either side.

The cool air kissing over you, a gasp desperate to emerge but dies somewhere in your throat—swallowed up by a moan at the way he views you. The way his eyes rake up and down you like this is the first time he’s seen you, and not the billionth.

Like all the things he does, it’s with precision the way he rids himself of being contained by his jeans and underwear. Lowering himself to his knees between yours, you lean forward, lips finding his—messy, needy. Need you, they kiss, fuck me, they plead.

His mouth remains on you, only letting enough words escape to tell you to keep his jumper on when your fingers slide his t-shirt up and over his head. He rewards your obedience by letting his hand fall from himself to you—tracing, languid circles on your swollen clit, until he pushes two fingers in. You shift your hips into him, hearing him moan distantly at the feel of how wet you are, whispered praises given that are too far away as your mind rendered nothing (emptied, lost)—

Because he’s electric, you swear. Not even sure the lights need plugging in, you swear he could touch them and they’d illuminate—at least from the way he sparks enough in you to light the whole house up. Making it run, dart, a heavy current that dashes through your veins.

It’s why you whimper at the loss of him—only stopping yourself from whining when you feel him trace his cock through your folds, teasing, tracing up and down as the head of him nudges your clit, watching you, focused on the way your mouth must be parted and the likely sheen on your face.

And, you’re about to say his name—more in warning, in hunger. His body presses you down flush to the floor, the back of your hips meeting the fluff of the rug, as his mouth slides over your jaw, fingers dancing along your thigh, writing words, with the pads of them—leaving teasing verses against your skin.

“Stop teasing,” you say sharply.

Watching your words have their desired effect—that shy smile that grows into a confident smirk. The one you witness more than anyone else, the one you think of when you’re alone in the bed you share and it’s only his voice you have down the phone when your mind tries to pretend your fingers are his.

It’s slow, gentle, the way he begins to line up, pausing at your entrance—keeping you hanging, delicately placed there, held up by string as his breath paints what he wants to do to you against your neck. But you don’t hear it, can’t untangle the tale, least of all when he begins pressing in, sliding in inch by inch—

He’s big. And it makes you breathe deeply as you stretch around him. It makes you shiver. Makes you moan as he buries himself to the hilt, hips flush with yours.

“So good for me,” he praises before his lips slope over yours.

His hips begin to move, and each drag of his cock in and out makes you moan. The sound of you swallowing him, taking every inch of him he’ll give, is the soundtrack; the backdrop being the halo of lights above the two of you. It lights him, kisses along the varying shades that make up his curls, the browns, the beginning greys.

And you’re soaked, drenched—can feel it around where the two of you are joined, each slow drag in and out making it more apparent as you capture his lips. Breathlessly doing so, looping fingers around his neck, tugging lightly on his hair, curling into him, needing him deeper as your legs wrap around him.

It’s then the tip of him hits that spot, all unhurried. A motion he seeks, centres in on as he thrusts again, abutting it, making your eyes close and your mouth stretch each syllable of his name out in a whine. It makes you forget how to speak, and which language to utter. Barely a word for each finger can even come to mind, it’s mostly just his name. Frankie. Frankie. Please, Frankie as the air crackles around you.

He answers—he always does. His hand slides between your sweaty bodies, and finds the bundle of nerves calling out to him, the place which yearns. Doing so with accuracy, and exactness, as he draws shapes, lines and the fucking alphabet until you’re seeing stars, until it’s so hot you swear the jumper will peel from your skin and your head is nothing but a dizzying mess of him, just him. It makes you frantic to see him, outline his face, all cast in shadows because he’s turned away from the lights which made him look ethereal only moments ago.

His cock throbs inside of you, everything else curling inside your stomach, walls twitching around him as you tighten, vice-like, making him hiss. A sound which makes molten spread through you, more so when his mouth slides to your ear, breath laboured, along your skin, begging for you to come, needing you to, please, baby, please.

“S’close, Frankie.”

“I know—doing so well, so perfect for me.”

The words unlock something as a new pace is set, it more unforgiving, one that’ll likely leave marks on his knees from the friction on the rug, as you writhe and cling, half-moons left on his neck, digging in, marking him in the same way he’ll mark your walls in a moment or two.

Then, it floods over you. Drowns you. Coats you from head to toe as though you’ve been plunged in pleasure, left gasping, breath struggling to be located. Your mouth latched to his, burning your thanks into his mouth, your entire body tingling as he fucks you through it, until he’s thrusting aimlessly, so damn close until your name leaves the back of his throat in a sob, a blend of pleasure and relief strewn across his face as he comes deep inside of you. Hips slowing to a stammer, lowering himself down till he’s flush with you, before they come to a stop.

Then, it’s just his pants that meet your strained breaths, until a little hiss as he pulls himself out of you. Leaving you empty, sore in a way you’re grateful for, as his fingers trace over your chin, along your jaw, words being thought in slow bubbles as he stares at you.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Narrowing your eyes, you slide a hand to his hip, pinching.

“Just love that puttin’ lights up made you wanna suck my cock, is all.”

Smiling, you run your knuckles along his cheek, and brush past the wiry hair that makes up his patchy beard. “Wait till you see me hand the baubles, bet you’ll wanna be on your knees for me.”

“Good,” he replies. “I’m really hoping to taste how good we are together once we’re done.”

an: i freaking loved writing this, oh my.

i don't usually do taglists, but just tagging a few people who seemed interested in the longer version (sorry if this is annoying): @thetriumphantpanda @swiftispunk @5oh5 @morallyinept @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @reddedmiller @yorksgirl @missredherring @tvversionperson @secretelephanttattoo

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales smut #Frankie morales x reader smut #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier x reader #francisco morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #francisco catfish morales x reader #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales smut #triple frontier smut #frankie morales x f!reader smut #pedrostories

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lululandd · 10 months

Text

rabid; (i.)

pairing: platonic simon ‘ghost’ riley x gn!reader

word count: 956

warnings: comedy, aftermath of torture, mild gore

note: heheh >:3 (also on ao3)

summary:

ghost has a love-hate relationship with his neighbour of six years. on one hand they’re quiet enough, nice enough, considerate enough and never once had bothered him in any way, but on the other hand he is a highly trained soldier with highly trained senses and the things he hears travelling through his walls are batshit insane.

part i. | part ii. | part iii. | part iv.

He guesses they are an entertainer or a comedian or some sort because on rare occasions, they—whether he wanted to or not—made him laugh. The absurdity of the questions and things that came out of their mouth really makes him feel like he has a glimpse of what a worry free civilian life could be.

On one particularly rowdy night he heard the one sided conversation about anal, which rapidly escalated to how peoples arseholes can stretch up to seven inches in diameter and therefore, theoretically could fit two smaller raccoons.

He listened in fascinated horror how that thought came into their mind, how they associated arseholes with raccoons, and why in christ fuck did they sound so cheerful about it. Maybe he’s just a battle hardened, workaholic soldier that has only seen carnage and suffering, but even if such a thought came to his mind, it would not be classified as a happy thought and he would not laugh about it.

Until eight months later where he’s interrogating an American that he really wants to just straight up murder and remembers his neighbour.

He opens the door that leads to the rest of the warehouse and calls out to his men, “I need two raccoons. Small but not pups.”

He was met with silence and a confused looks, but he saw Gaz and Soap get on it and round up several soldiers.

“Alive!” He barked at them.

—

Soap looked worriedly at Gaz, “What do you think he’s gonna do with live raccoons?”

The other man shrugged, “You think he’s gonna threaten him with rabies?” Gaz gnashed his teeth together, “Let them bite him or something?”

One of the Lance Corporals behind them chimed, “I kinda wanna see.”

In came a chime of ‘yeah’s from the other men.

—

Ghost had made sure the American in question heard his request of the live raccoons before taking a seat on the table holding all his tools and lighting up a cigarette.

He looked at the man’s surroundings, the litter of teeth and nails on the floor, three parts of his severed ring finger, and the blood splatters on the makeshift plastic floor. The cleanup crew’s gonna at least be a little happy about that.

“You like raccoons, mate?” He offers, lighting what seemed to be his third cigarette.

The question caught him off guard. “What?”

“Raccoons. Trash pandas. Those chubby lil wankers with grubby hands.” He curled his palms and did mock scratching motions.

“You’re crazy.” He spat.

“I am.” For even thinking of trying this over his neighbour’s demented jokes.

Fourty five minutes later Gaz came knocking on his door.

“Got your furry friends, boss.” He gestures at a cage sitting by the door. The animals seemed calm, they couldn’t have just nicked it from some random bins and throw them in there.

“Cheers, Gaz.” He saw the man linger. “Anything else?”

“Can we observe, Sir?”

“No.” came his quick answer. If he really has to do what he thinks he’s gonna do, he’d rather his men not see it. They’ve seen so much in their line of work already, he doesn’t want to add to their nightmares.

Imagining one of them having PTSD from seeing a harmless animal makes him feel guilty.

He took the cage from Gaz’s hands and placed it nicely on the floor, a little way away from the American’s feet.

“You know that saying?” He puts on his best southern accent, mimicking Graves. “What crawled up your butt and died?”

The man’s eyes widened and he tried so hard to shift further into his seat, trying to create as much distance between them as possible. Ghost lets the moment go on for a little longer. It makes all the difference, really; whether you rush into the torture or letting them sit and wonder about the choices they think they have.

“I heard somewhere that your arse can stretch up to seven inches in diameter.” He pointed at the raccoons, “The normal sized bastards can fit into a four inch hole. But I’m being nice today and gonna give these smaller ones some wiggle room.”

He can’t help but crouch closer to the cage and coo at them as the man starts yelling for help.

“So.” He said in a calm voice, listing his head slowly when the man had stopped screaming his throat dry. “Since I’m a very nice man today I’m gonna give you two options.”

Fat rolls of tears had started to run down the man’s cheeks, his chest heaving as he begged for mercy.

“Do you want me to sedate these raccoons so they don’t claw your insides or do you wanna..” He remembers a word that floated into his flat one night, “..rawdog it?”

—

Soap had never seen a cleaner interrogation room before. Not from Ghost, the man’s usually so brutal about it. He remembers seeing parts of a live brain one time because Ghost had bashed their skull so badly and remembered having to shoot the person dead out of pity. But today? The intel was good, the man was still alive with almost all of his body parts; save for some of his teeth and nails and the chopped up finger,

and the raccoons.

They were alive and Ghost seemed to never have opened the cage at all.

—

When Ghost came home that month he heard his neighbour say something about a ‘little birthday celebration’ for tomorrow. He checked his watch and decided to walk to the bakery and get them some cake. That last operation went smoothly, and he has them to thank.

He can’t wait to hear what other mental things that will come out of their mouth in the future and apply them to his work.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing

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strniohoeee · 5 months

Note

ok sorry !! it was so cute basically

everytime the triplets invite reader to sleepover she sleeps with nick but one night she can't sleep and is hungry so she goes to their kitchen and decides to bake some cookies and matt has always been up playing on his computer when he smells her baking so he goes to the kitchen and sees her smiling while decorating the sweets and he falls more in love watching her with chocolate and flour on her face and in her pjs, you continue the story

Moonlight

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N can’t sleep and decides she could go for some cookies. But what happens when Matt meets her in the moonlight?🌕

Warnings⚠️: CUTE AS SHITTTT BYE😭😭 I loved writing this. I love writing cute imagines it’s my favorite🧡

Song for the imagine: You Really Got A Hold On Me- The Miracles

Don’t wanna kiss you, but I need to

My love is strong now

You really got a hold on me

4 hours, 15 minutes and 23 seconds I have been up staring at Nick's ceiling. But who’s counting? Am I right? The thoughts running around in my head. I hated overthinking while laying in bed. It made me annoyed. I just wanted some shut eye

Other than overthinking the constant gurgle of my stomach also kept me up. I really should’ve ate dinner, but I stood up editing my YouTube video instead. I turned over and shut my eyes

My stomach immediately gurgled. My eyes shot open and I let out an annoyed huff of air. I removed the sheets from my body, and stood up

I slid on my slippers by the door and quietly walked out, gently shutting the door behind me. I walked down the mid floor, and all the lights were off and there was no sound. Perfect, everyone's asleep.

I turned the kitchen light on, but soon realized it was too bright. I quickly lit the 8 candles they had laying around their house, and shut the kitchen light off.

There was also the glow of a streetlight and the moon coming through the kitchen window, so it was the perfect amount of light.

I opened the fridge to see what I could find, but to my surprise they had eaten all my food I left. I hung my head and shook it, and then opened the freezer to see nothing as well. Jesus, how did they survive? Not a morsel of food in this kitchen.

Suddenly I remembered I got ingredients to make cookies for a challenge we were supposed to film, but never did.

I opened the top cabinet and grabbed the flour, sugar, chocolate chips, non-stick spray and vanilla extract and placed them on their kitchen counter.

I walked over to the fridge and grabbed the butter, milk and eggs also placing them on the counter.

Making chocolate chip cookies at 4am was not on my agenda, but I really needed something to eat, and it was nice to have some alone time baking.

I had mixed all the ingredients up, and preheated the oven. After rolling the cookies into small pieces I placed them on the tray and slid them in the oven. They needed about 20 minutes to cook.

While waiting I decided to clean up. I genuinely didn’t realize how messy it was to make things from scratch. There was flour and sugar and egg yolk everywhere. Not to mention I was covered in flour and melted chocolate chips that got stuck to me.

After cleaning up I sat at the dining table, and waited for the cookies to finish baking. Once they were done I took them out to cool down and placed them on the table. Getting excited at how perfect they looked.

I hadn’t realized Matt stopped in the kitchen till he cleared his throat.

“Hi Matt, I’m sorry did I wake you?” I said in a whisper

“Oh no. I was up playing video games, but I kept hearing noise out here I thought I was going crazy” he said shuffling over to the table and sitting across from me

“Sorry I was trying to be as quiet as possible” I said looking at him

“No that’s alright, what’s with the candles?” He said laughing a bit

“Well I didn’t want to wake anyone with the kitchen light, so I decided on candles” I said

“Ahh I see” he said nodding his head

“Want a cookie? I made them fresh. I was so hungry and couldn’t sleep, so I decided to bake” I said smiling at him

“I can tell” he said pointing at his face

I touched my face and felt the reminisce of flour on my cheeks, chin and nose

“Oh my god how embarrassing” I said wiping my face off

“Lets try your homemade cookies” he said reaching over and grabbing a cookie

Taking a bite and looking over at me nodding his head

“These are so fucking good” he said swallowing

“You think so?” I said smiling and leaning up getting excited

“Very good, you should bake more often” he replied

“Thanks Matt” I said smiling and tilting my head

“Want something to drink?” I asked scooting back from the chair

“Oh sure, but I can get it” he said getting ready to get up

“No, don't worry!” I said waving my hand at him

I opened the fridge, and saw they only had soda and water…..

“I guess no milk and cookies for you” I said looking over my shoulder

“That’s okay, I’ll take water” he said grabbing another cookie

I poured him some water and walked back over to him sliding the glass his way.

“Thank you” he said nodding his head at me

“Well I have to do these dishes now” I said

“I’ll help you” he replied

“Oh no don’t worry about it” I said

“It’s fine I don’t mind” he said scooting back from the table

I had washed the dishes as he stood next to me drying them. Occasionally engaging in conversations

“The full moon is so pretty” I said looking out the window above the sink

“It’s so pretty isn’t it” he said looking at me

“Very” I replied offering him a small smile

It got quiet as I continued to wash their dishes occasionally looking up at the moon.

“I wonder what it would be like out there” I said

“Out where?” Matt asked

“Out in space, and on the moon. I picture it would be freezing” I said

“I think it would be dark, cold and probably hard to breathe” he said laughing

“That’s true I suppose, I don’t know I just wonder what life would be like on another planet” I said to him

“You’re a interesting character” he said to me grabbing the cup from my hand

“We’re all a little strange…..I myself am strange and unusual” I said to him in a whisper

“Caramel” he said back

“What?” I said laughing a bit

“Your eyes remind me of caramel swirls when the light hits them. Makes me wonder what life looks like through them” he said back in a whisper looking at the moon

“And I’m the interesting character” I said bumping his shoulder with mine

“I was trying to level with you” he said smiling while looking down at the pan he was drying

“Your eyes remind me of the moon….cold, bright……invigorating” I said the last part in a whisper

Matt’s eyes slowly looked up before he turned and looked at me. Our eyes telling each other stories as they twinkled in the lighting

“You really got a hold on me” Matt said

I smiled at this, and pulled him in by his shirt. Crashing our lips together in a sweet and tender kiss like the ones you see in the movies.

We pulled away from one another looking into each other's eyes and smiling like children.

“You can quote my favorite song, and not expect me to fall even more in love with you” I replied handing him the last dish for him to dry

“You make me fall deeper everyday” he whispered as he finished drying the dish and placing it in the cabinet

I smiled at this, and we packed the rest of the cookies away.

I started blowing out the candles and he stopped me.

“Let’s take two to my room, so we can sit in the candle light” he said

“You’re such a romantic” I said giggling

“You bring it out of me” he replied blushing

I grabbed the last two candles and we headed to his room. Placing them both on his night stand while we laid in his bed

His left arm under my neck as I leaned back on him. Lifting my right hand to let the moonlight light up my skin. His hand came up to mine, interlocking them.

I looked over at him to see him already looking at me. We both leaned in and our lips connected yet again for another passionate kiss.

After pulling away we talked some more, and slowly the candle started to blow out as our eyes got heavy.

“Let’s blow the candles out and go to sleep” I said looking over at Matt

“Okay” he said pulling his arm from under me to lift his sheets down

When I turned over my eyes caught the names of the candle, and a smile grew on my face

The first candle read ‘Sweet Love’ and the second candle read ‘Under the Moonlight’…….what a scary coincidence

“Matt look at the candles” I said before blowing them out

He read them and his eyes lit up, and looked over at me

“We’re meant to be” he said blushing

“I guess we are” I giggled and blew the candles out

Matt pulled me in closer, and let sleep consume us.

He really had a hold on me……

The End

I hopeeee you guys enjoyed this especially for whoever requested this! I loveddddd writing this. It got me all sad and shit with my hopeless romantic self😭😭. Love yallll🥹🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo

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ginnsbaker · 2 months

Text

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (3/?)

Part summary: Leigh develops an unhealthy habit as she hits closer to rock bottom

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.370 | Warnings/Tags: Some hetero stuff | A/N: Things will pick up after this part. I think there's going to be a total of 6 parts, but let me confirm that in the next update :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Next

Leigh is ten minutes late.

It makes sense. Her willingness to attend this meeting was surprising, because if you were in her shoes, you doubt you'd have agreed to it. Listening to the entire history of a relationship can be exhausting, and it's hard to imagine what it feels like to hear about one that arguably should never have existed.

But just as you're about to think she's bailed or intentionally left you hanging, you spot her sprinting toward the cafe from across the street. She's a mess—hair soaked and sticking everywhere, face bare, missing its usual touch of makeup. But even like this, Leigh doesn't look much different from her usual self. You can't help feeling a bit envious of that.

She rushes into the cafe, attracting a few curious looks, but she barely registers them, her wide green eyes quickly finding you.

“Sorry I'm late,” she pants, struggling to catch her breath, “I got caught in the rain and then missed my bus.” The lie slips out effortlessly. True, it had rained, but the real reason was far more personal—something you didn't need to know.

You shrug off her apology with a smile, signaling the waiter for a menu for Leigh. “No worries, I'm just glad you made it,” you say.

Leigh gives you a quick once-over, then forces a smile and thanks you. Once her coffee order's in, she gets right down to it. “So, Matt,” she starts, her voice dropping to a whisper, “how did you two meet?”

You lean back, carefully thinking about what to say next. You didn't practice your answers ahead of time because you weren't planning to lie about anything. But you're wary of how you word things, not wanting to upset her. Being caught up with a married man is embarrassing enough as it is, and having to relay the details to his widowed wife only adds to it.

“Actually, our first meeting was totally by chance,” you say, bringing your steaming cup of tea to your lips. “I quite literally bumped into Matt one day. It was so brief, I barely gave it a second thought.”

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Then, about a week later, Matt showed up at my clinic with the same friend from before. It turned out, they were there for his friend's dog, who needed a check-up. Matt was just tagging along, helping out.”

Leigh’s face remains passive, making it hard to read.

“The friend was the one who interacted with me the most that day. He even asked for my number, saying they were grateful for the help with the dog. I assumed he was interested,” you say, the memory coming back to you clearer now as you speak. “But, to my surprise, it was Matt who texted me later, not his friend.”

You barely manage to suppress the slight twitch of your lips, recalling how everything once seemed magical to you. Leigh on the other hand, takes a slow sip of her coffee, buying a moment to process.

“Who was that friend of Matt's? Do you remember his name?” she asks.

You pause, racking your brain for the detail, feeling its importance to Leigh. “Yeah, I think his name was Nick or something,” you say, scratching your head. Whether the name ‘Nick’ rings any bells for her or not, she doesn't let on.

“Strange,” you mumble under your breath, but then shrug it off. “It doesn't really matter, he's not the one I—” You stop yourself just in time, realizing you're about to say something potentially hurtful about a situation that still feels raw, especially to Leigh.

Instead, you quickly pivot. “Anyway, that's how it all started. On the day of the dog’s follow-up, it was just Matt who came by. We struck up a friendship from there, and one thing led to another until he, uhm, asked me out for dinner.”

At this, you notice a subtle change in Leigh's demeanor. Her entire frame becomes more timid, the first real sign of emotion she's shown since this conversation began.

You’re about to go on with your story when Leigh suddenly speaks up.

“So, you just said yes, even though he was your client? Don't veterinarians have professional boundaries?”

Ever since meeting Leigh, you've found it challenging to predict what might trigger her reactions—it's like navigating a minefield. Occasionally, you’d find yourself wondering what it would be like to know her without the complications currently defining your interactions. You think about the roles you both involuntarily play in each other's lives, roles neither of you auditioned for but somehow ended up performing.

You feel a lump form in your throat, and your gaze drops to your lap. “Well, he was persistent,” you say, feeling the need to defend your decision. Nevertheless, it sounds weak to your own ears. “But I made it clear nothing could happen until the dog's treatment was complete. And I insisted he'd have to find a different vet for any future appointments. It was... complicated.”

“I bet,” Leigh scoffs, crossing her arms. After a beat, she asks, almost too casually, “So, how quickly did you two... you know, have your first kiss?”

The question hangs awkwardly between you. You know you can’t answer it in any way you could avoid her judgment, so you just decide to spit it out.

“First date.” Under Leigh’s scrutinizing gaze, it feels like admitting to a minor crime.

Leigh stares at you with unblinking eyes. “And how long after meeting him did this first date happen?”

You draw in a slow breath. “Three weeks,” you mutter. “It was last fall.” You add that bit, proactively laying out the timeline as if it could somehow soften the blow or make the situation less complicated. Leigh, however, looks like you've just knocked the wind out of her. She looks away, her expression shifting into something like shock or deep pain. Alarm bells ring in your head at the picture before you.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?” you say in a rush. “I mean, this whole situation is messed up, but if I—”

Leigh’s eyes are glass as they return to you. When she speaks again, her voice is so soft you almost have to lean in to hear. “Last fall... That's when I told Matt we should start trying for a baby.”

The words drain the color from your face. And suddenly, all the pieces of your story with Matt feels even more tainted.

You're not sure what your face gives away when you hear this news, but Leigh's expression quickly shifts from tearful to furious. “Stop feeling sorry for me,” she hisses. “I don’t need your pity.”

Leigh's tears start to spill over, and it's only 7:30 in the morning. It feels way too early for tears, especially here, in the middle of a coffee shop where the day is just beginning for most. You try to shrink into your seat, wishing you could make both of you invisible as the few other patrons start throwing curious, if not outright concerned, looks your way.

You never realized a simple conversation could cause someone so much pain. You thought providing Leigh with answers would help, but it looks like you're just making things even harder for her. Maybe keeping your distance from her is the kindest thing you can do.

“You know the worst part?” Leigh brushes away the tears that keep streaking down her face.

Clearly, she isn't looking for an answer, so you stay silent.

She makes sure she catches your eye before saying, “He agreed, and we started trying.”

Leigh catches her breath after wrapping up her class at the Beautiful Beast.

She took a day off yesterday, immediately after talking with you, spending the whole day in bed just trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings. Surprisingly, wasting away for a whole day seemed to help, and her concerns gradually drifted back to her fight with Jules. It’s been days, and Leigh feels the urgency of reconciliation pressing on her. By this point, they should be on speaking terms again. By now, Jules should have let go of her anger, right? Leigh knows she can't afford to have her sister hating her. At least not right now. She needs her family, or what’s left of it—on her side.

“Hey, Jules, got a sec? About the schedule…” Leigh tries, hoping work might be a safe enough topic to get her sister to acknowledge her existence once again.

Jules barely glances her way. Her hands keep moving, adjusting a strap here, aligning yoga mats there, as if the very act could shield her from having to engage. “Sorted. Check your email,” she replies, her voice cold and detached.

Leigh nods, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “Great, great... um, did you consider adding that beginners' workshop we talked about?”

Jules stops for a beat, and Leigh thinks, maybe she's going to drop it. But no, Jules resumes fussing over items that hardly require any attention. Then, without even looking up, she says, “Yeah, it's on the list. Anything else?”

Leigh tries to keep her cool, wishing Jules would just cut to the chase and tell her what needs to be done for all to be forgiven.

Trying a different tactic, Leigh goes, “Hey, found a Starbucks card in my bag. How 'bout I grab us some coffee? My treat.”

Leigh’s trying. She really is. Why can’t they see that?

Jules just gives her that look, the kind that doesn't need words, and heads back to her desk. And there's Leigh, offer of a beverage truce just floating in the air, going nowhere.

Getting ignored really gets under Leigh's skin. Back in the day, Matt's habit of brushing her off would drive her to the edge. She'd respond with over-the-top demands or twist things around just to make sure he’d always pay attention to her. She didn't start off wanting to be that person, but looking back, she sees the lengths she'd go to just to keep his attention from straying.

Unable to control herself, she heads straight for Jules, grabs her arm despite her trying to wiggle free, and yanks her into the backroom.

“What the hell is your problem?!” Jules explodes, not caring if anyone’s heard her outside.

They're both standing there, kind of shocked by how heated things got so fast. Jules’ shout might've turned a few heads outside, but right now, that's the least of Leigh's worries.

“How many times do I need to apologize, for you to get over this?”

Jules’ eyes are wide in disbelief, her mouth twisting into a sardonic smile, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, Leigh! This is exactly why I’m not talking to you,” Jules hisses, but keeps her voice down this time.

“What—”

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?”

Leigh's initial scoff dies in her throat as she watches Jules' expression twist with hurt. “Yeah, okay, I said sorry about the crap I pulled the other day. I know I was out of line, talking about your past like that—”

Jules doesn't let her finish. “You weren't just being ‘out of line’, Leigh. You threw the worst time of my life in my face! Do you have any idea how hurtful that is? Coming from my own sister? From my own family? What, just to win an argument? To cover up for acting like a jerk at the club?”

Leigh goes quiet, but her face hardens, trying not to show how much Jules' words hit her right in the gut. What she said, laid out like that, it sounds…well, unforgivable.

“I'm trying, okay?” Leigh blurts out without thinking.

“Shouldn't be that hard to just be a decent human being, should it?” Jules shoots back, her dismissal sharp as she exits the cramped space, leaving Leigh reeling.

Under her breath, almost like she's talking to the walls, Leigh mumbles, “I'm really sorry…” It's quiet, almost lost in the room, but she means it the most at this very moment, even if no one's around to catch it.

Leigh clocks out from work, her day's fatigue hanging off her shoulders like a weighty cloak. Instead of heading straight home, she veers off her usual path, her feet bringing her to places that made breathing difficult the first few weeks after Matt's death. She's walking the same old route she always did when he was still around, back to when her home address was different and she'd pick up takeout from his favorite places along the way.

There’s the park first, the one where she and Matt spent countless afternoons sprawled on the grass, lying side by side as they watched the sky blush into shades of orange at sunset. She allows herself only a fleeting glance at the familiar paths and the bench they claimed theirs, feeling the same regret, the same hollowness as she remembers the good times they had there.

In the back of her mind, she can't shake off the worry that maybe you've been here too, making your own memories with him. She doesn’t feel the surge of anger at this thought however. Instead, a part of her is almost willing to share these sacred memories if it means holding onto him in any form. She wants to believe that her jealousy has faded into a quieter acceptance that others might also carry pieces of him, pieces she's learning to live with.

Pulling herself away from the park, Leigh's walk inevitably leads her past Matt's favorite Italian restaurant—a quaint, cozy place where they celebrated most of their birthdays and, on occasion, anniversaries, especially when neither felt like cooking (which became an increasingly common choice in the months leading up to his accident).

She remembers how Matt's face would light up at the prospect of their rich, creamy carbonara and the tiramisu he claimed was unrivaled in the city. She recalls the numerous times she attempted to recreate the restaurant's tiramisu at home, aiming to surprise Matt at least once a month. Despite her efforts, if she truly wanted to indulge him, she knew there was no substitute for the real thing. So, on special days, or whenever she felt an extra burst of affection, she'd stop by the restaurant on her way home, picking up takeout.

A waitress from the restaurant notices Leigh's lingering gaze and asks if she'd like a table. With a shy smile, Leigh declines, then pauses before finally deciding to order a tiramisu to go.

When she returns to her mom's house and eats the tiramisu alone, it tastes different.

Leigh can't decide if the difference in the tiramisu's taste is good or bad, but that doesn't stop her. She finishes the entire slice in minutes. But instead of feeling full, it makes her feel emptier. Perhaps, it’s not the flavor that's changed; it's the experience of eating it without Matt's enthusiastic commentary, without him lighting up at the first bite or playfully claiming the last one, despite his generous offer to let her have it.

Suddenly, tears just start pouring out of Leigh as she sits there with an empty plate. She didn't see it coming, no chance to stop it or shove it down. Then, she finds herself laughing—a deep, throaty laugh—because she's grieved for him in countless ways, but this, crying over a dessert, has to be the most absurd. It's exactly the kind of moment they would have laughed at together.

Deciding that that would be her dinner, Leigh cleans up the small mess she's made and considers the evening ahead. But just as she’s about to sink into the couch for a quiet night, her phone buzzes, making her jump.

Seeing your name flash on her screen, she sighs, sensing a familiar bitterness creeping back in, disrupting the soothing moments she had just spent reminiscing about Matt. She lets it ring a few times more before picking up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Leigh says, managing to keep her voice steady over the phone.

“Hey,” you start, unsure how to break the ice after everything. Especially with what you’re about to say next.

“Listen, something happened today at the clinic. Someone came in looking for their lost French Bulldog, and they had a picture,” you pause to breathe. “Leigh, it looks a lot like Visitor.”

On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Leigh's heart skip a beat.

“Hello?” you ask, checking to make sure she's still there after she doesn't respond for several seconds.

“Are you sure?” Leigh’s voice cracks slightly.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure,” you say softly, feeling a surge of empathy. “I'm sending you the picture now. Check it out and tell me what you think.”

You hit send and then wait for Leigh’s confirmation.

“It's him. It's definitely Visitor,” she says a moment later.

You're relieved but also concerned about what comes next. “So, what are you going to do?”

Leigh hesitates, and when she speaks again, she doesn’t give a direct answer. “Thank you, Y/N,” she says, and you pick up something in her tone. Something somber.

“Everything alright?”

But the line's already dead, leaving you staring at your phone, wondering what she is up to.

Leigh stands outside the community center, her hand lingering on the door longer than usual. It's been weeks since she last came to a session. First, there was the shock of uncovering Matt's darkest secret, and now, there's the issue of the man inside, already looking her way, waiting to see her next move.

Danny appearing at her doorstep earlier in the week caught her completely off guard—and not in a good way. The moment she realized it was him, Leigh didn't hesitate to close the door in his face. After she shut him out, it escalated to the point where she threatened to call the police because he wouldn't stop pounding on the door and shouting for Leigh to let him in, insisting he just wanted to talk. His last attempt to get through to her fell flat when he flooded her inbox with texts and missed calls, pushing Leigh to the point where she blocked his number for good.

Despite the problem of Danny being here tonight, Leigh isn't willing to walk away from this just because of him. She's already given up so much lately, most recently Visitor—or Chico, as she found out his real name was—and his absence carved a fresh ache in her heart that she hadn't seen coming.

So, she takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, ignoring the smirk on Danny’s face as she proceeds to pretend like he doesn’t exist.

Somehow, after the meeting, Leigh ends up saying yes to a quick chat with Danny. He reels her in with the news that he submitted Matt’s remaining works—which he got custody of—to his publisher, and they were keen to publish them posthumously.

Leigh can't help but throw in a bit of shade. “That's nice of you, doing something good for your brother, even if it's a bit late.”

Danny's face drops a little. Her words were sharp enough to hurt him, but he doesn't bite back or get in her face about it, which totally throws Leigh for a loop. After all the time she'd spent ignoring him, she had expected him to be at his worst around her.

And then he surprises her even more when he says, “Let me give you a ride home? It's the least I can do…”

Leigh arches an eyebrow. She didn’t bring the car tonight because Jules had a thing with Tommy, and she didn’t want to give her sister another reason to resent her. A ride from Danny beats the alternatives of walking or shelling out for a pricey cab, especially now that her phone's battery has given out, nixing the option of booking an Uber.

But this is Danny. Matt’s brother, and the guy she hooked up with because she thought she’d get back some semblance of her dead husband. After Jules pointed out how messed up it was that they'd slept together, Leigh's been all over the place. The rules around what they were doing either turned her off or, weirdly enough, made the whole thing more enticing, taboo and all. That's a big part of why she's been steering clear of him. Hanging out with Danny feels like reaching for a cigarette long after she's sworn off smoking.

Even with all that swirling in her head, Leigh ends up saying, “Sure, why not?”

Before she knows it, she's also agreeing to a drink at his place.

The second they step into his apartment, something inside of Leigh snaps. Acting on impulse, she grabs Danny by the collar and kisses him fiercely. She clenches his shirt in her hands, practically tearing it in her grip. Danny's initial surprise melts away in seconds, and then he’s kissing her just as hard, his tongue prying open her lips, taking control of the kiss right away. His hands find her waits, pulling her closer, practically already half-lifting her against the wall.

Leigh, caught up in the moment, begins to move her hips in a rocking motion against him. The action is effective enough to distract him from where he’s kissing every inch of Leigh’s neck, and he retaliates by suddenly pressing her more firmly against the wall, pinning her with his hips, their chests are tightly pressed together.

But as Leigh's fingers begin to fumble with the button of Danny's pants, he catches her hands gently and, panting, says, “Wait, Leigh, hold on for just a sec.”

Leigh’s eyes fly open at his voice, irritation and impatience coloring them. “What?” she gasps out.

He ignores the hard edges of her tone. He wants more—something real—and he's hoping she does too.

“I can’t do this again unless I know it’s going somewhere,” Danny says. He gently lets go of Leigh and takes a step back, trying to collect himself. It's a tough task, though, with Leigh looking the way she does—hair all tousled, lips slightly swollen and marked from when he got a bit carried away, her cheeks tinged with a warm flush. He could’ve made her come in the next two minutes, he’s sure of it.

At Danny's confession, Leigh can't help it; she bursts into laughter. The idea of him catching feelings now, of all times, seems absurd to her. As she laughs, Danny's jaw tightens, but he waits patiently for her to finish.

When Leigh finally notices the seriousness etched across Danny's face, her amusement evaporates almost instantly. The realization that he's not joking strikes her, and it doesn't sit well. Not one bit.

“What, you think because your brother's gone, you get to... what? Step in? Take his place?” she spits out, incredulous. “This is never going to be anything more than a quick fuck, Danny.”

In his desperation, he calls her bluff. “You’re lying.”

Leigh's reaction morphs into a cruel sneer. “If you're going to insist on something more, then we're just wasting our time,” she mutters, turning to leave.

Danny's not ready to let her walk away, not yet. He grabs her arm, and for a second, they're just staring each other down, a silent battle raging between them. Leigh’s resolve is impenetrable.

It’s Danny who cracks first, exhaling a defeated, “Fine.”

But Leigh's not having any half-measures. She whirls around, fire in her eyes. “Nope. Say it properly,” she demands.

With a sigh that feels like he's giving away a part of himself, Danny looks at her, worn and resigned. “This doesn't have to mean anything,” he says even if it’s the last thing he wants.

Leigh locks eyes with him, a storm brewing in her look. Just when Danny thinks it's better to just drop it, she throws him a question out of nowhere.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” Danny asks, genuinely puzzled.

“About Matt and me... trying for a baby when he... you know.”

“He... he never mentioned anything like that,” he says, feeling the pain she’s radiating. Leigh looks like she’s about to fall apart and all he wants is to be the one to gather her pieces and put them all back together.

No more words follow from Leigh. It's as if the question drained what was left of the conversation. Without warning, she surges forward, her lips meeting Danny’s in a bruising kiss, then she grabs Danny's hands, placing them firmly back on her waist. He gets the message loud and clear, and together they quickly shed their clothes, letting them fall in a heap around their feet. She comes about twelve minutes and thirty seconds later.

It's been eight days—not that you're keeping track or anything. But after giving Leigh the heads-up that someone’s been looking for a dog that looks exactly like Visitor, you were kind of expecting she’d at least update you if it really was him or not.

So, when a client strolls in later with Visitor, who's actually called Chico according to the file your secretary slips you, you're a little disappointed it's not Leigh showing up instead. It must have been incredibly tough for her to return Chico to his real family. She invested her heart, time, and not to mention her wallet, into that dog, caring for him as if he were her own.

Thinking she’d be relieved to know he’s in good hands, you send her a text to update her about Chico's visit to the clinic today. You mention how healthy and content he seems, yet you hazard a guess that he's probably missing Leigh too.

She sees your message right away, and then leaves you on read.

Her thing with Danny turns into a late-night ritual, particularly after Drew fails to respond to her following their conversation, not even offering her a guest column in the weeks that followed their talk. Drew continues to invite her for coffee and dinner dates along with his fiancée, but he avoids the topic about the column, so Leigh stops asking.

The hookups are always a post-midnight impulse. She’d find herself sneaking out of her mother's house to meet him, driven by a mix of need and escape, or occasionally, by insomnia. After their moments together, she never lingers in Danny's bed for too long once she's found her satisfaction, eager to shower away his scent from her skin.

Back at home, she ensures there's no trace of their deed by the time she slips into bed, allowing herself to sleep deep into the middle of the day. This pattern of nocturnal activity and daytime slumber has led her mother to adjust Leigh's responsibilities, moving her to take charge of the afternoon classes instead. This behavior earns her suspicious glances from Jules, but Leigh chooses to ignore them—if Jules isn't interested in reconciling, then she has no right to concern herself with Leigh's personal affairs.

Leigh doesn’t know how she got here, back at the beginning, in an ever messier situation. She can't stop fucking Danny, her emotions for Matt are a rollercoaster—she finds herself forgiving him and cursing him interchangeably a couple of times a day.

She's astounded this is her life now, seemingly unable to talk herself out of decisions that pull her deeper into chaos.

A month later, Leigh becomes a distant memory. Following a series of tumultuous encounters, your life gradually returns to its normal rhythm—quiet, ordinary days filled with clinic work, attending to various cases, meeting new clients, and addressing the myriad issues of small animals. All of these tasks prove easier to deal with than anything involving Leigh Shaw.

The sole noteworthy event in your generally uneventful life lately was your latest visit to a physician for an annual physical exam. The blood tests revealed some numbers outside the normal range, notably elevated cholesterol levels. Consequently, your doctor advised you to integrate exercise into your daily regimen and to reduce your consumption of takeout meals, specifically pizza and Chinese fast food.

It’s a big sacrifice, considering your day usually flies by without much thought for food, except for dinner. It’s the one time in your day you actually look forward to. So, to hold onto that bit of happiness, you've been looking at fitness classes that are actually enjoyable and help burn those extra calories to keep you in shape.

Yoga stands out as the top choice for you, mainly because it all unfolds on a mat. You assume it'll demand the least amount of effort compared to the other options (specifically spinning), which all seem to promise nothing but pain and suffering.

Deciding to give yoga a shot, you choose Beautiful Beast, swayed by its stellar reviews. You secure a slot for a 6pm class, feeling pretty good about this decision.

That is, until Leigh Shaw walks into the said class, clad in a sports bra and tight-fitting leggings that highlight her toned legs. She’s busy on her phone, and without looking up, she walks to the front of the room.

What are the chances you'd both be in the same class at the same fitness studio? The plot thickens when she pockets her phone and turns to face the class, gesturing for everyone to get their mats ready as the session's about to start.

You swallow hard. Leigh isn't here as a joiner—she's running it.

It takes about a quarter of the session for Leigh to notice you’re in her class. It's only while she's making her rounds, observing each student's camel pose, that her gaze finally lands on you. Struggling through your lack of core strength, you can't quite catch her initial reaction, but then she calls out your name. The surprise makes you gasp as she places her hand on the curve of your spine, just above the small of your back, and gently pushes you upward, deepening your arch.

The stretch draws a grimace from you, but then she says, “Good, that's it,” and suddenly, you're determined not to let her down. You focus on the pose, on Leigh's instructions, and on not falling apart under her watchful eye. Leigh keeps everyone in the position a few moments longer than expected before instructing the class to transition into the child's pose for recovery. At her cue, your arms collapse, and you find yourself breathing heavily, grateful for the brief respite.

Something tells you it's not the high cholesterol that's going to be the end of you, but rather this yoga class and Leigh's merciless teaching style.

You're all packed up and ready to leave, still reeling from what could easily be the toughest hour of your life, when someone calls out to you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

It's Leigh. Her tone is softer, more fatigued than you remember. She’s still in her gym clothes, looking like the workout barely touched her except for a few strands of hair sticking to her forehead. And somehow, she smells more like a rose garden than the gym floor.

“I didn’t know you work here—” you blurt out, almost apologizing. But before you can add anything else, Leigh just shakes her head, something like amusement in her smile, stopping you mid-sentence. Her smile, warm and a little teasing, eases some of the tension you didn't realize you were holding.

“Are you a mind reader or something?” she teases. “Cause yeah, I was going to ask if you were following me.”

You’re quick to deny it. “I wasn’t.”

Leigh lets out a chuckle like she's getting a kick out of seeing you on edge. You shuffle your feet, still unsure if she’s trying to scare you off or welcome you to her tutelage.

“Look, if it's weird for you, me being here... I can find another class,” you offer, the words tumbling out before you can think them through.

Her reaction is swift and a bit surprising, “Why would I want that? So you can duck out and be a rubbish yogi elsewhere and ruin my reputation?”

You’re taken aback by her response. Clearly, Leigh's not pushing you away; it's almost as if she's egging you on, daring you to stick it out. And if there's any hope of moving past this... whatever it is, leaving now because it might get awkward doesn't seem like the right move to make a fresh start.

“All right, I'll stay,” you find yourself saying, more to your surprise than hers.

Leigh's got this look of triumph, chin lifted just so, when you agree to stick around. “See you at 5:30. Greenway Park,” she throws out casually.

You're there blinking, trying to piece together what she means. But before you can even get a word out, she's one step ahead.

“We have to work on your endurance,” she clarifies. “Make sure you’re wearing real running shoes. No sneakers.”

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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megalony · 2 months

Text

Bed Rest

This is a new Nick Amaro imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think. I'm loving the Nick requests being sent in so far.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread@musicistheway@avada-kedavra-bitch-187@luula@missdreamofendless@bradleybeachbabe@woderfulkawaii@amberpanda99@daggersquadphantom@marvel-and-chicago-fan@angryknightstatesmantrash@minjix@lyjen@kmc1989@itsmytimetoodream@noonenuts@hiireadstuff@ashie-babie@classyunknownlover@jayyeahthatsme@sp1ritssz@dumb-fawkin-bitch@oliverstarksbae@gimatida@heart-35@supernaturalstilinski@stefansalvatoresgf@kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275

Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) calls Nick at work in a panic, he drops everything to go home and take her to the hospital. Not informing the team where he is going until they realise he's missing.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick ran a hand through his hair, loosening up the curls and pushing them back on his head into a more tamed fashion. He scratched his nails against his temple as he slowly climbed up the stairs.

He fiddled with his tie and clipped his badge onto his belt while he turned and headed back into the bedroom.

As he made his way over towards the bed, a softness pooled in his eyes and a tepid smile forming on his lips when he reached the bed.

He went down on his knees in front of the bed and leaned his elbow down onto the mattress while his hand moved out towards (Y/n). He was gentle when he delicately brushed his index finger against her temple and pushed a stray hair back behind her ear. His fingertips continued to graze against her temple and for a brief second, he pressed the back of his hand against her skin and his lips faded into a frown. She was flushed.

A small smile quirked his lips up from a frown into a grin when (Y/n)'s hand batted up and grabbed his. She tangled their fingers together and pulled his hand down to her lips instead of her forehead. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss against the back of his knuckles that made adrenaline explode through his chest and send his blood tingling beneath his skin.

He loved the way her lips moulded into a tired yet sickly sweet smile when her half-lidded eyes focused on him and she reeled his hand closer until he had no choice but to press his arm into her chest. She curled around his hand and arm like it was a comfort teddy and her nose brushed against his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" Nick kept his voice quiet as he moved to perch his chin on the end of the bed so they were level while his knees pressed into the bedframe to keep his balance and stop him falling backwards. He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand when she nodded and tried to keep her eyes open but she was tired.

All (Y/n) wanted to do was stay bundled up under the covers and sleep the day away. And Nick wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and stay with her. He wanted to stay home and look after her and make sure she was actually okay, but he needed to go to work. He was on a long shift today and he didn't know whether he would actually get home tonight or if he would end up doing a double shift.

Nick's lips twitched and he grimaced when (Y/n) suddenly dragged her eyes over his frame and realised what he was wearing.

He was in his suit. He had his tie around his neck and his blazer dragged up over his shoulders. And as realisation hit her, (Y/n) looked down at his arm that she was cuddling close to her chest. He was dressed for work.

"You said you weren't working today." Her voice was thick and laced with sleep, but Nick could see in her eyes that she was upset.

"The squad caught a new case last night, I've been roped in. I'm sorry, Carino. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

(Y/n) nodded and pressed another kiss to the back of his hand and it let Nick know that she wasn't angry or upset. She knew his job was demanding and she also knew that Nick would swap a shift in the next few days so he could still have a day off with her and be home with her.

Nick had only agreed to this shift because (Y/n) had been feeling a lot better yesterday than she did the previous few days. He had told Olivia he couldn't pull double shifts and he had to go home at the end of the shift because (Y/n) wasn't well.

She was suffering badly with morning sickness and Nick needed to be home with her and make sure she was alright.

He had been extremely close to calling in sick yesterday but (Y/n) seemed to be more alive and alert in the afternoon when they spoke on the phone. And she managed to eat tea and sleep through the night without getting up to be sick which was a big improvement. She wasn't at work today and Nick knew a day in bed would do her good.

He reached across for the sick bowl near the end of the bed and held it up to show her before he put it down on the floor by his feet, whispering a quiet "Just in case." He wanted her to have it close by on the chance she did feel sick and couldn't make it to the toilet quick enough.

"Will you be alright if I go to work?"

A lopsided smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she finally let go of her husband's hand and reached out to brush her thumb against his lower lip and down his freshly shaved chin.

"Yeah, they need you, officer Amaro. Just tell me if you're not coming home, please."

Nick thanked God for how understanding (Y/n) was. She knew his job was tiring and impacted his mental health and how it could strain him. She knew he got roped into double shifts and long stints and he got put on the line a lot. And (Y/n) never judged or quarrelled or argued about it because it was Nick's job and she understood.

As long as he told her if he wasn't coming home and if he still took time off to be with her, and they had their anniversary or birthdays off, she wouldn't complain.

And Nick had been there at her scans with her every time and he took her to her appointments. She couldn't ask for anything more.

(Y/n) didn't want Nick to have to call in and leave the station short-handed when he didn't have to. She was okay, she wouldn't be moving about much today anyway. She felt much better, she was mostly tired. Her headache had gone, her stomach was settled and she was even hungry this morning which was a big improvement. All she needed was a day in bed to recover and she would be back up and moving about again tomorrow.

(Y/n) reached her hands up to cup Nick's jaw when he leaned over the bed and stole a kiss from her lips. She could taste the morning coffee on his tongue and feel his lips quirking into a grin against her when he slid his hand beneath the cover and pressed his palm against her stomach. His fingers glided over her stomach that was just starting to get round now she had passed the twenty-week mark.

His touch made her shiver and his cold hand sent her stomach jumping which only made Nick grin against her lips and bite down on her bottom lip that he sucked between his teeth when he pulled back.

"Ring me later, let me know how you feel." He didn't care that he would be at work or how busy they would be. Nick didn't even care if he was in the middle of an interview when (Y/n) rang him. He just wanted her to ring him so he could hear her voice and know that she felt okay.

"I will. Love you."

"I love you too," He muttered against her lips and pecked her lips again and again like she was a drug he was addicted to. He kept his fingers tickling over her stomach just to feel her squirm and wriggle as his hands were still cold and she was wrapped up in warmth.

She brushed her thumb against his jaw before she reached up and dragged her fingers through his hair. Ruffling his curls and skewing his raven black hair until he finally pulled away from her lips with a groan.

"Bye, Carino."

***

Nick loosened the tie around his neck and threw his blazer over the back of his desk chair. He let himself slump down into the seat with a thud and tilted his head back until he was staring up at the ceiling of the squad room.

He was tired- no, he was exhausted.

He wanted to go home. He had been at the station for almost two days straight now without going home or getting more than an hour of sleep in the back room. And that meant he hadn't been home to see his wife, either.

The only solace Nick has was that he had been able to take a few breaks and call (Y/n) to make sure she was alright. From what he'd gathered, she spent most of the day sleeping yesterday and had livened up in the evening. Which made Nick feel even worse because he had to tell her he couldn't come home yet. He had to pull a double, and then it didn't look like he was going home anytime soon either.

They had found two new victims to interview, process and go over their statements and coroborate the facts. Now they were trying to get their perp into an interview and get a statement without making much of a fuss or causing a scene.

He reached out for his mug on the desk but he sighed when he grabbed it. The mug was cold. Time had passed him by since he made the coffee he hadn't found time to drink.

He pushed up and took his cup across the squad room to the small drinks station at the back and flicked the kettle on. Tipping his mug in the sink. It probably wouldn't be worth making another cup, he only got the chance to drink or eat when he was in the car on the way to find a victim or talk to someone. But he was tired and he needed to refuel.

His hands braced on the counter and he arched his back out, letting his head drop down but his eyes barely closed before he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

A grin lit up his face when he saw (Y/n)'s name and picture light up his phone screen. Just what he needed to lighten his mood and wake himself up.

"Hey Carino, everything alright?"

"I- I don't know."

Nick straightened up almost immediately and the smile disappeared from his lips. What did that mean? Why didn't she know if everything was alright? Had something happened, had she gone out and felt ill?

His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck and he turned round to lean his hips back against the counter.

"Why, what do you mean baby? What's wrong?"

"My stomach really hurts, like, really bad cramps… and I… I'm bleeding. I don't, Nick I might be having a miscarriage."

All the blood drained down to his feet and he felt like his stomach had dropped down through the floor to the reception below. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. His lungs shrivelled up and stopped working and his weight leaned back on the counter to prop himself up so he didn't collapse down onto the floor.

She wasn't well. (Y/n) was ill and Nick could hear the panic building up in her voice.

(Y/n) didn't know what to do. She had never been in this position before, this was their first baby and up to now the only problem (Y/n) had had was suffering with bad morning sickness. But throughout the day as she had run some errands and tried to tidy the house, she started to feel worse.

Then the pains started as if she was having period cramps that made her knees buckle and had her stomach in knots, clenching and unclenching every few minutes. When (Y/n) went to the bathroom, she started to cry when she saw blood in her underwear.

It was such a relief that Nick answered the phone on the first try.

"Nick?" Her voice quivered as she wiped her sleeve beneath her eyes and tried not to sob down the line.

"Where are you, baby?"

"Home, I called the doctor, t-they said I have to go down to the emergency room, now." The receptionist had spoken to the doctor and (Y/n) had cried when they said she had to go straight to the hospital to get checked out because she quite possibly could be losing the baby.

But she couldn't go down without telling Nick first and letting him know what was going on. Even if he couldn't get off work right away, as long as he knew, (Y/n) would be relieved because she knew he would come to her as soon as he could.

"I'm coming to get you. I'm on my way now and then I can take you to the hospital, okay?" Nick pushed off the counter and sprinted over to his desk. He slung his blazer over his arm, pocketed his keys and bolted out the squad room before anyone noticed he had gone.

He would worry about telling the team where he had gone later. His wife needed him now, and he had to go home.

Nick winced when he heard (Y/n) cry down the line. Did she really think he wouldn't drop everything and come home to get her? Did she think Nick cared at all if Olivia told him he couldn't go? It didn't matter how busy they were or what case they were working on, family came first and (Y/n) was Nick's whole world.

He knew Olivia would understand. She knew family came first even if they couldn't always go home straight after a shift or if they had to stay late and go to court and come to work on short notice. In matters like these, work was not a priority.

"Y-you're coming home?"

(Y/n) felt the tears falling faster as she held the phone tighter to her ear as if it would make a difference in his response time. She wanted him to come home. (Y/n) wanted Nick to come home because he promised if ever anything was wrong he would be there. He made sure for all the important dates he was off work and he wanted to be there for every aspect of this pregnancy.

Even if that meant being there if they lost the baby. Nick was going to be there and look after (Y/n) and he was taking (Y/n) to the doctors now so he could try and keep her and the baby safe.

"Wh- of course I'm coming home Carino, you need me." He was already in his car and slammed the door shut.

"I'm scared."

"You don't need to be scared, Carino. Five minutes and I'll be there, you're gonna be fine."

Time seemed to be on Nick's side when he hit every green light going home. He parked the worst he'd ever parked on the edge of their drive and headed inside. He was about to call out but he found that he didn't need to. Nick expected (Y/n) to be upstairs, he wasn't quite sure why, but when he passed through the hall, he found her in the living room.

He didn't like what he saw. (Y/n) stood with one hand gripping the back of the sofa to keep herself upright, and the other hand on her stomach. She looked like she couldn't quite hold herself upright and when he saw the tears traced down her face, he felt even worse.

"Oh, baby. Okay, let's go get you checked out." Reaching over, Nick curved his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and clamped his hand down on her hip.

He reeled her into his side and took some of her weight for her to try and make it easier. He felt her hand scrunch up in his shirt and her other hand stayed curved beneath her stomach.

Tears continued to fall down the bridge of her nose and (Y/n) turned her head to the left to bury into Nick's shirt. She felt like if she kept her arm tight around her stomach, she might just be able to hold the baby in place. She might be able to stop her body from evicting her baby if she held onto them tight enough and prayed enough.

They wanted this baby. (Y/n) didn't think she had done anything wrong, she had done everything she was supposed to do and she had felt fine until today. Why was her body doing this to her?

When Nick eased her into the car, (Y/n) curled up against the door. Her knees pulled up towards her stomach and she sank down in the seat until she could barely look out the window. She just wanted to disappear. And when she felt Nick reach across and place his hand on her stomach, a whimper left her lips and she shuddered.

One arm stayed around her stomach and even though she looked out the window, she moved her other hand to keep hold of Nick's wrist. She didn't want him to let go. Not yet.

Nick didn't like how silent (Y/n) was.

He didn't know what to do or what to say to her when she seemed to shut down on him.

But he was relieved she didn't push away from or brush off his touch. After he told the receptionist the situation and moved to sit down next to (Y/n) in the waiting area, he was relieved when she tucked herself into him. Her face buried down in his chest and her arms wound around his torso.

He began to smooth his hand up and down her back while his other arm looped around her shoulders and he smothered his lips against her temple.

"(Y/n) Amaro."

She kept herself hidden away in Nick's chest and let him guide her down the hall and into the cubicle after the nurse. She let Nick walk her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed in the middle of the room. And he didn't give her chance to move. He let her hands stayed curled around his shirt while his hands moved down to hold the back of her thighs and he carefully lifted her up onto the bed.

He smothered his lips against her temple, whispering a quiet "Come on," to get her to pull out of his arms and sit on the bed properly.

Nick stayed stood at her side, letting her hands curl around his arm and pin it to her chest again so she could press her lips against his bicep over his sleeve. His right arm curled around her back so his hand could smooth up and down her lower back between her hips. And his lips moved against the back of her head while he looked across at the nurse.

"Okay hun, you had some bleeding, has it stopped yet?" She looked between (Y/n) and the file in her hands she got from reception. As soon as (Y/n) told the nurse on the phone what was happening, they added notes to her file to send across to the emergency room.

"I think it's stopped now," Her cheek pressed against Nick's arm while she wriggled in discomfort.

"And the pains?"

"Still happening," (Y/n) murmured, moving one hand to her stomach as if to prove her point. Her lower stomach was cramping and it just felt like a period pain moving around her abdomen. But knowing that she shouldn't be in any pain made her feel even worse and seemed to make the pain feel ten times worse.

"Okay, I'm going to check your vitals, then we can do a scan and see what's going on in there."

(Y/n) stayed still and compliant as the nurse clipped an pulse monitor onto her finger and found a blood pressure cuff in the drawer. The tight band around her arm made her feel lightheaded, but she stayed silent and tried to ignore the tension it caused to run down to her fingertips.

She could feel Nick leaning over to take a look and (Y/n) knew instantly by the way he took a sharp breath that her blood pressure wasn't where it was supposed to be. Nick had taken his own pressure enough to know that (Y/n)'s was currently elevated which wasn't a good indicator.

(Y/n) sank her teeth down into her lower lip and leaned back but she could feel the tears welling up again when the nurse kindly lifted her shirt. It didn't hurt when the nurse pressed her fingertips in various places over her abdomen, but it made her feel worse.

"Let's take a look."

Nick kept (Y/n)'s left hand tightly held in his while his right hand moved to rest on the back of the bed so he could lean over. He watched intently as she placed the gel over (Y/n)'s stomach and began to sonogram.

Panic bubbled up in (Y/n)'s chest and she tugged sharply on Nick's hand as she tilted her head to look up at him.

"T-there's a heartbeat." She mumbled in astonishment.

She felt Nick's hand move to cradle the back of her head and his lips quirked into a small, tense smile before he kissed her temple lovingly. He knew this was a good sign, but it wasn't always a perfect indicator. (Y/n) could still be going through the process of a miscarriage or lose the baby even if they had a heartbeat.

But (Y/n) had been prepared not to hear anything. She thought she was going to see a blurred image on the screen and then soon feel the baby be evicted from her stomach.

"That's good, right?" Nick looked across at the nurse as he tried to read her expression. He was good at reading faces and right now she looked more relaxed than he'd expected which was another good sign.

"It is… you've had a placental abruption, the placenta has moved away from the womb lining which isn't good. But baby is still where we want them to be and heartbeat is steady. You're not experiencing a miscarriage."

(Y/n) turned her head and buried her face into Nick's arm as he kept kissing the top of her head. He reeled her closer to his chest and grinned against her hair. It felt like a weight had been lifted off both their shoulders. This morning they hadn't been worried about losing their baby and now after a moment of panic, they could go back to feeling that way again.

"You've lost a little amniotic fluid, but as long as you don't lose anymore, you should be fine. But you'll need to be on bed rest."

"For how long?"

The apprehension was clear in (Y/n)'s voice and she gratefully took the paper towel the nurse handed her so she could clean her stomach and pull her shirt back down. (Y/n) didn't want to be on bed rest. What was she supposed to do? She would become bored within two days.

"Indefinitely, I'm afraid. You need a few days here in observation for a start, then if all is good you can go home. You need bed rest and light duties, no heavy lifting. Your next appointments will determine how long bed rest lasts."

(Y/n) groaned, she knew what that meant. The rest of this pregnancy was going to be spent in bed.

She couldn't spend the next four months sat in bed. She truly couldn't do that. (Y/n) couldn't be laid up in bed, bored out of her head wondering what to do with herself. She would end up going on a cleaning spree around the house or tidying up or trying to do some yoga or something strange. She wouldn't be able to stay in bed.

"But I can't-"

"Hey, if the midwife says bed rest, then you ain't leaving that bed. Got it?" Nick cupped (Y/n)'s chin in his hand and tilted her head back until she was looking up at him with those doe eyes that always made him melt. But not this time.

She found herself nodding even though she didn't fully agree. (Y/n) wouldn't go against Nick, it wouldn't be worth the headache and the fierce side she would envoke if she dared go against a midwife's orders.

"Okay, I'll get you admitted onto the ward."

Nick leaned down to peck (Y/n)'s lips, unable to stop from grinning against her but he pulled back when he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. "It's Liv, I won't be a sec." He whispered against her lips, kissing her again before he turned and headed out into the corridor.

He couldn't exactly ignore her when the team must have realised by now that he wasn't in the station and he hadn't told anyone where he had gone.

"Hey Liv."

"Nick, where'd you rush off to? You didn't tell anyone you we're heading off, is something wrong?"

"Uh," He scratched the back of his head and looked around the corridor as if the right words would suddenly pop out at him. "I had an emergency… (Y/n)'s not well, she's had a complication and she's gotta stay in the hospital for a few days. I had to bring her down here, I know I should have said something but when she called I just-"

"Hey, slow down. It's okay, you need to be with her. Is the baby okay?"

"Yeah, yeah the baby's alright." He found himself smiling even though all the air was disappearing from his lungs. They had had a lucky escape. A few hours later, a bit more bleeding or more cramps and they might not have been this lucky.

"Good, well take as long as you need and tell me when you're ready to come back. And you look after her, got it?"

***

"Where do you think you're going?"

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine and she froze halfway down the stairs when Nick's voice rumbled through the air. Leaning to the right, (Y/n) carefully peered over the bannister and looked down at her husband.

He was leant up against the bottom of the stairs, one leg crossed in front of the other with his arms folded over his chest. And his head was tilted back to look up at her.

She didn't think he would be home this early. And she didn't hear him come in, but he had already kicked off his shoes, removed his overcoat and blazer and tie. Leaving him in his starched black trousers and creased white button up. Her eyes followed him as he pushed off the bannister and moved round to stand at the bottom of the stairs. Arching his back out and tapping his fingers against the rail while he looked up at his wife's sheepish expression.

"…Into the kitchen?" (Y/n) took two steps down before she stopped again when Nick started to walk up the stairs towards her. There was no way she would be able to squeeze past him.

"Funny, I thought the bed was still in the bedroom?" He pointed to the top of the stairs and climbed up the rest of the steps until he was stood one step down from (Y/n). The higher step made them equal in height but when (Y/n) looped her arms around his neck and tried to steal a kiss, Nick tilted his head back.

"I wanted a drink." (Y/n) tangled her fingers in the back of Nick's hair and tugged until he relented and gave her a kiss.

But she gasped when his hands grabbed the back of her thighs and he hoisted her up as swiftly as anything. He looped her legs around his waist so she was sat low on his hips and he began walking back up the stairs with their lips still attached and her fingers knotting into his hair making him groan against her.

"Baby, the kitchen's the other way." She groaned softly into his lips and pulled his lower lip between her teeth just to feel his chest vibrate with a deep growl.

"And you're going back to bed. Bed rest means you go to bed, and you stay there to rest. Not wander about the house Carino."

Nick pushed the bedroom door open with his foot and walked in, digging his fingers into her bare thighs before he reached the bed. He leaned over and carefully eased her down onto the bed and arched over when she kept her legs curved around his hips, refusing to release him.

"I've been resting all day, I still need to move about, baby."

"Hm, somehow I don't quite believe you."

"Nick…" She groaned out his name until he was shivering between her thighs. "I can't stay in bed forever, and the baby's fine, they like it when I move around, they won't settle when I sit in bed all day."

"The baby is fine because you're resting, Carino and that's what you'll keep doing. So while I'm home, you're not leaving this bed. I don't care if I have to tie you down." It wasn't going to work trying to worm her way around him or tease and suck up until he caved.

Nick wasn't taking any chances. He was finally going back to work, although he made sure he wasn't pulling any double shifts so he could be home to make sure (Y/n) was alright. He wanted her to stay in bed and rest because it was what she had been told to do. The nurse said in uncertain terms that (Y/n) couldn't do any heavy lifting or straining, if the placenta moved even a tiny bit, they might end up in preterm labour and Nick wasn't risking that.

(Y/n) flopped her head back on the bed and pushed her heels into Nick's back until he took the hint. He leaned forward and knelt up on the bed between her thighs, moving his forearms to rest either side of her head so his fingers could tangle in her hair and brush across her cheek.

He leaned most of his weight onto his knees and his left arm so his right hand could slide down between them and move to slide under her shirt and go across her stomach.

"That doesn't sound too bad." (Y/n) mumbled softly against his lips, brushing her thumbs down his neck.

She wouldn't object to his methods of subduing her.

#imagine #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro imagine #nick x reader #law and order #law and order svu #olivia benson

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g-xix · 8 months

Text

Charity Match | Tobi TBJZL Brown🔞

Imagine inspired by sidemenreacts vid: "reacting to sidemen charity match moments" moment when Tobi points out the scar Simon's medal left on his back (link to video at the end of the oneshot for reference)... Look at bae tho:

Little slayer. Anyways, go read the oneshot:

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The Sidemen FC placed their hands on the cup- the smell of lynx body spray, sweat and victory crowding the changing room- lifting the cup high above their heads with an uproarious cheer which could be heard all the way from the Allstar FC's changing room.

Everyone celebrated, medals clanging as they kissed the cup and jumped for joy, though Simon's hand smacked to his mouth barely a moment after he'd jumped. The sharp edge of his medal had pierced through Tobi's shirt, and the black polyester was dampened with a dark spot which appeared to grow by the second.

But Tobi hadn't noticed the blood filtering through his shirt.

No, Tobi was too focussed on lifting the cup up as it came around to him, still victorious cheering,so much so that he didn't even notice as Simon brushed Tobi's shirt to the side slightly to inspect the damage the hard-edged metal had inflicted upon his friend's back. But as soon as Simon lifted the shirt slightly, his eyes widened- jaw dropped open. For whilst Simon had expected to see just a gash on his otherwise unharmed back- Tobi's back had angry purple lined jagged and shooting across his back like lightning, starting all the way at his shoulder-blades and running all the way down to his lower back.

Simon gulped after the presentation as he found Tobi in the changing rooms, spraying some deodorant under his shirt and packing his duffel bag- ready to get back onto the coach to London.

"Hey, Tobes?" Simon called for his smaller friend's attention. Tobi turned with a big smile, still giddy following the Sidemen FC win. "I err, I accidentally nicked your back with my medal when we were celebrating..."

"Ah, I didn't notice, must just be small." Tobi shrugged, Simon's eyes lowering as he recalled the large gash it had left besides all of those lightning-streak lines.

"Uhm, also I... I noticed some other purple-y scars on your back like, kinda uneven lines... Is your back- are you- are you alright?"

Tobi scrunched his brows together, not knowing what he purple lines he was talking about on his back. Pulling his locker door open, he peered over his shoulder and pulled his shirt up.

Suddenly, those purple scratch marks weren't so unfamiliar...

A moan was ripped from your throat as Tobi thrusted back into your roughly- not even giving you a moment to recover, post-orgasm.

He paused only a moment with a low groan as his cum filled you, before his hips began slamming back into you- still somehow not satisfied and desperate for another round. His hands roamed from your tits down to your hips, bringing you to his chest so that your body was flush against his- your body weight supported only by Tobi as he walked you until your back was pressed against the wall, cock still hard inside of you as his lips found yours, sloppily meeting in a passionate open-mouthed kiss.

The smell of sex filled the hotel room which the Sidemen had booked for all the players, pre-game- though it felt as though Tobi and yourself seemed to be using the room to its fullest potential. And your next-door neighbours in the hotel were NOT going to be happy with the noises you two were making.

Your hands found the back of his neck- pulling him in and drawing him even closer as you moved your mouth synchronously with Tobi's, intoxicated with the way he tasted and the way his tongue ravaged your mouth. A whimper fell from your lips as your felt Tobi pull out slowly, clearly rearing to move and thrust inside of your overstimulated pussy once more.

"Fuck, Tobi-" You whimpered, your eyes screwed shut as you felt yourself fluttering around his wood, thighs shaking as they were wrapped around his hips- your whole lower body completely spent. Tobi noticed your shaking and rested you on the table, which was at perfect height for you to sit on whilst his cock was still inside you.

"C'mon gorgeous, you can go another round," He slowed his pace as he pulled out more slowly, fingers threading through your hair and finally giving your clit a well deserved grace-period as you let out whispered moans, nodding your head in agreement despite the tingles of overstimulation that Tobi sent racing through your core- not wanting to say no to Tobi. "Atta girl," He pressed a lazy kiss to your forehead as he pulled all the way out, before making your whole body jerk and your throat emit a gasp as Tobi slammed right back into you, his cock undeniably kissing your cervix as he bottomed out instantly.

"TOBI!" You gasped your moan, hands gripping his back as he pulled out once more, thrusting in with the same toe-curling force which make you scream from the feeling, rolling your head back and only exposing your neck to him, which he wasted no time in attaching his mouth to, to shower in hickeys and bruises as he thrusted at a mind-numbing pace, your head going fuzzy from the feelings.

A loud moan was ripped from your throat as you felt Tobi hit your g-spot, the bundle of nerves sending pleasure through every molecule of your body as your fingernails dug into his back- creating marks of your own as they dug into his skin and ripped downwards, etching deep purple lines against his dark skin. Tobi didn't even register the pain, all too drunk on the feeling of your walls clenching around his cock, making lewd noises each time his balls slapped into your aching core, arousal coating his cock.

His mouth caught onto one of your tits as he pounded, his lips wrapping around your sensitive bud and making you let out somehow an even louder moan as the feeling of his hot mouth around your breast paired with his tip hitting your g-spot with every thrust had you toes curling- back arching into the glass window behind the desk, overlooking all of London as you felt the heat rising to your face, all too aware you were going to cum soon...

"Tobi," You gasped, screwing your eyes shut and letting your head roll back. Tobi groaned from the way his name fell from your lips, along with the feeling of your nails still running down his back aggressively- catching the reflexion of his back in the reflective glass behind you- the angry lighting-lines across his back making his cock twitch at the thought that you'd marked him up so possessively. "I think I-I'm gonna cum..."

"That's my fuckin' girl, cum, gorgeous-" His words along with the fingers that trailed down from your nipple down to your clit, rolling a few tight circles over the sensitive spot, pushed you over the edge- euphoria fuzzy-ing your head and clouding your vision as your fingernails ran down his back, fading into nothing as Tobi felt himself release inside you also.

Your eyes opened dazedly, lazily looking up at your wonderful boyfriend, before your eyes caught onto the mirror on the other side of the room- reflecting the image of Tobi's ruthlessly scratched back. Tobi caught the look of horror that you wore on your face as your eyes turned to him- though Tobi just smirked- ready to wear those marks as a badge of honour...

"Tobi?" Simon's voice pulled Tobi out of his thoughts with a cautious tone. He turned around to face Simon once more, grinning as his eyes flicked from Simon to the beautiful figure of his girlfriend, watching as she wandered into the changing room, looking for him. "Those marks alright? Are you... good?"

"Oh I'm more than good," Tobi grinned lazily as you spotted him, making your way across the changing room before Tobi pulled you into his arms proudly for another victorious kiss, deciding to leave his shirt off for the ride back home- instead showing off his bare back- and all the markings you'd left across it.

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Video in reference:

youtube

okayyy sidemen charity match done icl i thought allstars was gonna win but LESSGOO SIDEMENNNNNMy final notes from the charity match:

-Angry ginge is so fine icel (the tackles n squaring up to speed...) -It was so hard tryna convince my dad "no, speed is actually good at football..." after missing the pen... and a shot on goal... AND A SHOT ON AN OPEN GOAL-So proud of behz- scores in the stadium he's supported since he was a child, with his daughter watching, and got his dream knee-sliding, topless celebration-Congrats Harry for that beaut strike-I want Chris to weave into my DMs like he wove through that defence line-Why was JJ... not a bad goalie???-XQC looked like a proper sweetheart in goal negl-Manny hattrick i love to see it - esp with Simon always tryna set him up to score instead of taking it for himself <333 -WILLNE TWO FOOTING THE CAR BRINGING THE BALL IN LOOOOOOOL -MAX FOSH SCORES A GOAL THEN WHIPS OUT THE UNO REVERSE CARD???? (also why's he so caked lol)

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

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