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ijustreallylovethem · 3 months

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lover

really not proud of this but i’m not letting my writing go to waste. just know i didn’t give it justice.

jamie drysdale x reader

words: 1,518

masterlist

it was a good win. an amazing win, actually. the ducks beat the vegas golden knights for the second time in a row, despite them being the reigning stanley cup champions. and not only that, but jamie had gotten his first goal in over a year and a half. there wasn’t a big celebration to be had since most of the guys wanted to go back and soak up the last bit of christmas with their families, so you invited a few of those that did want to celebrate over to your apartment.

it wasn’t much, just some music playing in the background while you all sat around and drank. the guys had some card game going, but you opted to just sit in jamie’s lap and watch. every once in a while, he would ask for your opinion on what he should do, but for the most part you were content in your silence. then trevor would call out that he suspected someone was cheating, losing yet another hand, and you would tell him to stop being such a sore loser.

every once in a while, jamie would press a kiss to your temple. you’d look up at him, a soft smile on your face as you just observed him. you could probably answer correctly by now how many freckles were on his face if someone were to ask you. you had him committed to memory, every face he could possibly make and what the expression meant, his personality and how it could change slightly around different people, the way he would hold you or touch you in different settings. you had learned him well over the three, nearly four years you had been together, just as he had done to you.

trevor’s loud complaining pulled you from your trance. you blinked once before pulling your gaze from your boyfriend and looking over at his teammate. he was sat back in the chair, angrily pouting as he took the final swig of beer left in his bottle. you sighed, noticing the red of his eyes and how they weren’t fully open.

“okay, i think it’s time for everyone to go to bed.” truly, that wasn’t what you thought. but if trevor knew he was the only one going to sleep, he’d just reappear in the living room a few moments later, not wanting to miss out on the rest of the night. you heard a few groans from the boys, but jamie just chuckled lowly.

“i agree. time for bed.” you stood carefully from jamie’s lap, walking over to the blanket ladder leaned against the wall.

“who needs one? i can bring in extra pillows.”

“dibs on the guest room!” trevor yelled, getting out of his chair as fast as he could and running down the hallway. you heard a loud thud but chose to ignore it for now. you’d check on him on your way to your own bed. you passed a blanket to leo, who stretched out on the couch, and to mason, who took trevor’s chair and reclined it.

“pillows?” you asked. mason shook his head and leo grabbed a throw pillow from the ground, stuffing it under his head. “night, boys.” you turned off the lights, following jamie down the hallway. a quick glance into the guest room showed trevor already passed out on top of the bed. you rolled your eyes and closed the door.

jamie was changing when you entered the room you shared, and you were quick to do the same. all you wanted was to crawl in bed with him and finally tell him how well he played earlier in the night. as soon as you were cuddled into his side, tucked under the sheets, you did just that.

“you played so good tonight,” you said with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“first goal since last march,” he responded softly.

“i knew it was coming soon. you’re amazing.” even in the dark you could tell his cheeks were turning pink.

“stop it,” he whispered, unsure how to receive the compliment.

“you are! and i don’t know why you get so shy still when i tell you that. i’ve been saying it forever now.” his lips found yours, pulling you into a kiss that let you know he appreciated what you were telling him, even if he couldn’t voice it.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, jamie. forever and ever.” you gave him a smile before leaning in for a quick peck, then snuggled back into his chest with a yawn.

~~~

jamie was amazing at planning spontaneous dates. he would come home from practice and sometimes tell you where you were going, other times tell you what to wear and when you were leaving, always giving you a few hours to get ready. today was one of those days. he had come home and told you that he made reservations at one of your favorite restaurants for 6:30, leaving you smiling and giddy. now here you were, digging into your pasta and nearly moaning at the taste.

“god, this is delicious.” jamie laughed, gesturing to a spot in his face that told you you had sauce on yours. you quickly picked up your napkin and wiped it off, jamie nodding to let you know you got it.

as you took another bite, your eyes caught on a girl sitting at a table diagonal to yours. you had noticed her when you were seated, but it seemed she had just noticed you. she was talking to what seemed to be her parents, though you weren’t sure since they were faced away from you, and her eyes kept flirting between them and jamie.

“i think you may have a fan over there,” you said quietly. jamie’s brows furrowed slightly.

“really?”

“well her face is all red and she’s been talking to who she’s sitting with since she looked over here. oh, they just turned around to look. they’re definitely talking about us. or, at least you.” jamie let out a small laugh.

“what are you, a detective?” you shrug, then take in a sharp breath.

“she’s getting up.” the girl, who you’ve decided she has to be around your age, slowly walks up to the table you’re sitting at, a shy smile on her face.

“hi. um, i just wanted to say that i’m a big fan.” jamie was nice, setting down his fork and giving her a smile.

“thanks! i always love meeting people who support us.” she smiles, looking over at you.

“is this your sister?” you gave her a smile, though it wasn’t at all genuine, and jamie’s smile dropped.

“uh, no, this is my girlfriend.”

“oh. well i should probably get back to my table. i think we’re getting ready to leave. nice to meet you.” she steps away, her face bright red as you saw her sit back down from the corner of your eye. neither of you say anything for a moment, you digging back into your pasta and jamie unsure what to say.

“you need to stop being so damn cute,” you finally say, shoving a forkful of noodles into your mouth.

“what?” he asks, a slight smile on his face.

“you heard me. you have everyone all over you and i’m not sharing.” he laughs at that, picking up his fork so he can continue eating as well.

“alright then, i’ll try to stop being so cute.”

~~~

“if i was traded, would you move with me?” you shot up from your spot, your eyes darting to jamie’s.

“are you being traded?” he was quick to shake his head.

“no. no, i’m not. but i was just wondering. you’re almost done with school, which i can understand that keeping you here. but would you let a job keep you here if i had to leave?” you don’t even have to hesitate before shaking your head.

“of course not. i’d follow you anywhere you have to go.” he gave a small smile, pulling you back down to give you a kiss. "what's got you asking that?" he sighed.

"i just... i think i would go crazy if i didn't get to spend forever with you," he admitted softly.

"awe, jamie." you pulled him into another kiss, trying to pour all of your emotions into it. "you know," you smiled as you pulled away, "if you want to spend forever with me, all you have to do is ask." you were just teasing him, not expecting him at all to lean over and open the bottom drawer of his nightstand. you definitely weren't expecting him to pull out a small velvet box that he opened up to show the prettiest ring you had ever seen in your life. you gasped lightly at the sight of it, causing jamie to smile.

"well then, y/n, do you want to spend forever with me? because i would love to spend forever with you." tears lined your lashes.

"jamie, of course i would!" you pull him into yet another kiss, this one lasting much longer than the last two. "oh my god, i love you so much!" he was smiling widely as he slipped the ring onto your finger. "can you just give me a moment here?" you stand up on top of the bed, screaming and jumping around. jamie laughed as he was bounced around underneath you. he took a short video of you, happy that you were so excited to spend the rest of your life with him. you finally fell down, sitting next to him on the bed.

"you're so dramatic," he laughed. you leaned over, grabbing both of his cheeks and pressing an overexaggerated peck to his nose.

~~~

only days after he proposed, jamie was headed to nashville. as always, he called you once he landed, letting you know that he was once again on the ground and safe. but this time, he didn’t sound as happy as he usually did.

“j, is something wrong?”

“i have to tell you something.” you sat up straighter in your spot. your heart dropped at the seriousness of his voice and you grabbed the pillow next to you, pulling it into your lap.

“what happened?” you whispered.

“i uh, i’m going to philly.” you were confused.

“the game was changed? what do you mean?” you heard him sigh. there was a nagging suspicion in the back of your mind but… that couldn’t possibly be what he was trying to say.

“no. i… they traded me to the flyers.” there was a sudden ringing in your ears and your whole body felt like it was on fire. this was a joke, right? trevor was standing on the other side of the phone laughing at the cruel prank he was making jamie play on you? you must have been quiet for too long. “hey, you there?”

“jamie…”

“i know. it sucks. but we’re gonna figure all of this out okay? i have a flight leaving for philly at 5:45, i’m sure cam will let me stay with him until i can find my own place, a-“

“jamie.” how could he speak so casually about all of this? he already had a flight booked? how long had he known before calling you? did he know before he left and he was just telling you now?

“i’m sorry, y/n. i had no clue this was going to happen or i would’ve told you, i promise.” you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

“it’s not your fault. but you’ll keep me updated, right?”

“of course i will.” you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you.

“what do you need me to do?”

“um, for now there’s not much. maybe pack up my clothes and send them to me. you keep everything else there for you and i’ll get all new stuff.” you rubbed a hand over your eyes. you didn’t want to burden him anymore at the moment but there was a question burning a hole in your mind.

“what does this mean for us?” you asked softly. it was silent for a moment.

“what do you mean? this doesn’t change anything.”

“we live across the country from each other now, jamie. i have no clue when we’ll see each other again. this is all out of the blue! i wasn’t expecting any of this.”

“hey, listen. you told me the other day that you would follow me anywhere. did you mean it?”

“of course i did. i wouldn’t have said it if i didn’t.”

“then we do a few months apart. we talk every day through calls and facetimes and texts. then i finish the season, come see you graduate, and you come join me. how does that sound?”

“not as good as the original plan but it’s doable i guess,” you admitted plainly. he laughs lightly and you can’t help but smile at the sound.

“i love you, and we’re gonna get through this.”

“i love you too. i’m gonna miss you too much.”

“we’ll work something out. i’ll have to check the schedule but maybe i’ll be out there. if not, you can come here for a weekend or something.”

“i haven’t made spring break plans yet,” you offer.

“i don’t want to take you away from your fun spring break vacation.” you shake your head.

“i’d rather see you.” you heard some voices on the other end and then jamie was back.

“sorry, baby, i have to go. i’ll text you before i take off and when i land later, okay?”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you too.” the line went dead and you wanted to cry. you looked up at the christmas lights hung near the ceiling, twinkling in place. jamie loved christmas lights but since you were in an apartment, you couldn’t put them on the roof. you suggested hanging them around the ceiling and you had both been too lazy to take them down, despite it being january and the rest of the decorations stored away. angry at the situation, you stood, ripping the plug from the outlet and tearing the string of lights off the wall. tears clouded your vision as they hit the floor, and you soon followed as your tears turned to full sobs.

~~~

lucky for you, the flyers only had two away games during your spring break. you arrived in philly once they returned from the first one, on sunday. the day was spent catching up with each other and jamie showing you the house he had settled into. it was tame in terms of spread break trips, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. he had practices and a few games during the week, but you loved watching him play.

on tuesday, you met some of the other wags and sat with them, cheering on your boys as they won the game. you waited with them until jamie emerged from the locker room, immediately engulfing you in a hug.

“my good luck charm,” he whispered, and you giggled. he took your hand and led you out to his car, opening your door for you to get in. he started the car, but instead of leaving the spot he just looked over at you.

“what?” you asked, big smiles on both of your faces.

“can i suggest something crazy?” you raised a brow at him.

“you want me to get in the back? or-“

“no, not like that,” he laughed.

“oh. then what are you thinking?”

“how would you feel about going to the courthouse tomorrow?”

“getting married?” he looked down at your hand, donning the ring he gave you just a few months ago.

“we can have a big reception later if you want.”

“well,” you put your finger to your mouth, pretending to think about it. “i would love to get married to you tomorrow.” he smiled, leaning across the console to kiss you.

only twelve hours later, you were signing the marriage certificate with a wide smile on your face. jamie had brought two of his teammates to be witnesses, so you passed it over to them so they could sign as well, then you turned to jamie.

“well, how you feel, mrs. drysdale?” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i feel amazing, mr. drysdale.” he leaned in, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“can’t wait to be back with you everyday for the rest of my life,” he smiled. your smile beamed up at him.

“i’m so glad you’re mine, love.”

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale imagine #Spotify

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matchingbatbites · 5 months

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break the ice (i can't take anymore)

Explicit | 2.2k | Read on Ao3

This is a gift for darling Emily @judasofsuburbia as part of the STuad server gift exchange! Emily, I hope you like this, because I know nothing about hockey. <3

Prompts included are A Really Good Kiss, Hockey, and The Pet Name "Princess". CW includes semi-public sex, D/s undertones. Full tag list over on Ao3

This isn’t the first time they’ve been pitted against each other, not by a long shot.

It’s something that comes with the territory of being athletes, especially when you’re as good at the game as Steve and Eddie are. They haven’t been on the same teams in years, and it’s something they’ve learned to navigate - balancing their professional careers and their personal life.

This is their first time facing each other down during the fucking Stanley Cup, though.

It’s been a surreal experience. They’ve spent the entire game having so much fun with each other, just taunting and teasing back and forth whenever they have the chance, playing up the rivalry their fans love to see. Skating circles around each other while trying to keep their heads in the game, both wanting to win but needing to have fun with it, for their own sanity - and for the sake of their relationship.

They use the fights that break out to their advantage, flying into each other’s arms and holding on tight, whispering while they wait for whatever brawl to finish. Eddie proves that he isn’t afraid to play dirty, that he’s willing to get under Steve’s skin to try to throw him off his game.

Steve had to recover quickly from Eddie’s muttered “Can’t wait to jack you off when I get my shiny new Stanley ring, princess,” just the thought of getting cum all over a twenty thousand dollar piece of jewelry making Steve reel.

The last few minutes of the game are tense. Eddie and another player get sent to the penalty box, and Steve barely has the chance to mourn the loss of his boyfriend’s presence because there’s two fucking minutes left to bring the score out of a tie. And somehow, some fucking way, Steve’s team does it.

He doesn’t even realize they’ve won until the buzzer sounds and his teammates are swarming the ice, helmets and padding and sticks flying everywhere as they converge into a mass of euphoria.

The arena is filled with the sounds of cheering and yelling, cries of joy and outrage, all of it so loud that Steve barely hears his own name being called through it all. He turns just before Eddie slams into him, sending them both gliding a few feet across the ice and into a fit of laughter.

“You did it! You fucking won, baby!” he yells, and Steve feels so fucking giddy because they did.

Steve doesn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie is hauling him into a kiss, something electric and ravenous thanks to the adrenaline pumping through their systems. Steve responds so easily, ever eager to let Eddie take and take whatever he wants, to let the man devour him in any way he seems fit.

One of Eddie’s hands settles on the back of his neck, pulling him ever closer, and it’s all Steve can do to clutch at his boyfriend’s jersey, just hanging on and hoping that his knees don’t give out. The cheers around them get even louder, and that’s what makes Eddie pull away, a beaming smile on his face. “Guess the secret’s out, sweetheart.”

Steve just laughs. “It’s only eighteen-thousand people plus the other thousands of fans watching the broadcast.”

“So just a few people, then.”

That sends them into a fit of giggles until one of Steve’s alternate captains grabs him, pulling him back to reality and his duties. “Time to face the media. See you after?” he asks, and Eddie nods, pulls him into one more brief kiss.

“See you soon, baby.”

As captain of the team, Steve spends the next God knows how long dealing with the media. Most of the reporters do a good job with sticking strictly to the game, to the win his team managed to eke out, but that doesn’t stop a few of them from trying to drag his and Eddie’s kiss into the story.

He shuts them down immediately, not wanting to say anything until he and Eddie actually have a chance to talk about it, and eventually he’s able to leave.

The locker room is basically empty when he gets there except for a few stragglers still packing up the rest of their stuff. Steve feels exhausted as he makes his way through the room, he accepts the congratulations from the few people still there and gives his own in return, but otherwise keeps to himself.

He doesn’t expect to see Eddie sitting on the bench in front of Steve’s stuff, still in uniform and his own duffel at his feet.

“There’s my winner,” he says, grinning at Steve’s approach. “How was the circus?”

Steve hums and moves to stand between Eddie’s legs. Hands settle on his waist, resting just under the hem of his jersey, and Steve’s own hands find a home on Eddie’s shoulders, just in the crook of his neck. “Could have been worse. I managed to keep the us stuff at bay until we can talk about it.”

“God, you’re so good at that Captain shit, baby. I love watching you command a room of reporters.” Eddie’s hands slip higher, moving under the edge of Steve’s undershirt until he can feel skin, and the younger shivers. The locker door slams shut nearby and the room goes silent, a sign that it’s finally just the two of them alone.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Steve says as he leans into Eddie’s creeping touch, the little bit of contact more of a tease than anything. “Thought you’d be back at the hotel by now.”

Eddie grins up at Steve and tugs him closer. “And miss the chance to congratulate you properly? To show you how proud I am of you?”

Steve full on shudders at that, his mouth drops in a soft gasp and his hands push up into Eddie’s hair. “Eddie…”

“I am, Stevie. So proud of you, my baby.” He leans in and presses a kiss to Steve’s jersey-covered sternum. “Tell me what you want, princess. Anything, and it’s yours.”

When Eddie says anything, he means it. The possibilities are endless and Steve knows that, is almost overwhelmed by the sudden thoughts that flash through his head. In this moment though, as exhausted and worn out as he is, there’s really only one thing he wants.

“I want a shower, and I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? That's all, honey?”

“Yeah, please Eddie.”

Eddie nods and says “Of course. Let’s get out of these clothes, then.”

They work together to strip down, pulling and tugging at each other’s clothes, but not with any rush, any urgency. They simply move in tandem as two people familiar with this specific dance, until they’re both bare and heading to the showers. Steve has the brief thought that he’s glad they’re separate from the rest of the locker room, that Eddie will be able to give him what he wants without anyone surprising them.

The water is blissfully hot. Steve basks in it as Eddie’s hands work magic in his hair, as he scrubs Steve’s skin clean, every touch tender and adoring. Steve would start drifting, if they were doing this at home, or even in a hotel. As it is, he just leans into the touch, silently showing Eddie just how much he enjoys it.

At some point, Eddie tugs Steve back into his chest and slides soapy hands down his torso, and Steve can feel the shift in the air as he goes from cleaning to touching.

It’s nice, the way Eddie’s hands feel as they make their way down, slipping lower and lower until they find their prize. Steve is already half-hard when Eddie takes him in his slick grip, and he moans as his hips buck into the touch.

“Fuck, Eddie…”

It’s slow, almost torturous, the way Eddie strokes him. Steve honestly enjoys it; he loves when Eddie takes his time, when he makes Steve savor every touch, like they have all the time in the world. Right now, they’re technically on a time crunch, and Eddie’s hand leaves him far sooner than Steve would like.

“Hands on the wall, princess. Gotta get you open for me.”

Steve just nods and steps out of the water, sets his hands on the white tile while Eddie rummages around in his shower bag. They started carrying lube for moments just like this, these little slices of time that they can spend together during the regular hockey season. Steve is incredibly grateful for it now as Eddie rubs a slick finger over his hole before pushing in.

It’s euphoric. They haven’t had the chance to do this recently, and Steve’s own fingers pale in comparison to the way Eddie stretches him open, careful but eager. He swiftly goes from one to two, to three, until he’s fucking Steve with four fingers and the younger is shaking with desire.

“Eddie, please, I’m ready. Need you to fuck me.”

“I know, baby, I’ve got you.”

The fingers vanish and Eddie crowds up behind Steve until they’re pressed front-to-back. One hand grabs hold of Steve’s hip, holding him steady as Eddie lines up and finally pushes in.

If Eddie’s fingers were euphoria, then his cock is fucking heaven. The stretch of it sends tingles up and down Steve’s spine, and he can’t help but push back onto it, needing more faster.

Eddie must be as needy as Steve is at this moment because he doesn’t comment on it, doesn’t slow him down. He just wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and tugs, burying the rest of his cock in one swift motion.

Steve keens at the sudden fullness, and he barely gets a chance to adjust before Eddie is fucking him properly, hips snapping at a steady but eager pace. It’s such a contrast from how Eddie has been touching him, that gentle touch all but gone, like he isn’t able to hold back any more.

It’s so fucking perfect, and Steve’s cheek presses into the tile wall as Eddie just uses him.

“Fuck, Eddie. Missed this,” he says, and Eddie groans.

“I’ve missed this too, baby. Missed touching you and fucking you, just like this. Wish I had time to spread you out and take you apart, treat you like the princess you are.”

A high whine escapes Steve as he nods. It’s been so long since they’ve had more than a few hours together and he misses it, he needs some down time with his boyfriend.

He tries to remind himself that the end of today’s game marks the end of the season, and they should actually have some time together if all of the post-season shit wraps up like it’s supposed to.

Steve is ripped from his thoughts by Eddie’s cock nailing his prostate dead on, and the man hums at Steve’s surprised moan.

“Stay with me, Stevie. Want you to feel everything I do to you, yeah?”

All Steve can do is nod and sink further against the wall, basically along for the ride as Eddie fucks him so so good. His orgasm creeps up on him; he can feel it building with every thrust, every smack of Eddie’s hips against his ass, until he’s right there, close enough to taste it.

“Ed, gonna come!”

It only encourages Eddie, who groans and slides a hand down to wrap around Steve’s dick. “Come on, then. Wanna see you come on my cock, baby, wanna feel you. Let me have it, Stevie.”

Steve gasps; the hand on his dick is almost too much but he bucks into it nonetheless, and that’s all he needs. He knows he’s being loud; his moans echo off the tiles as he spills over Eddie’s hand, but neither of them care too much right now. Eddie just fucks him through it, then chases his own orgasm once Steve is sated and sagging against the shower wall.

It doesn’t take long. Eddie’s teeth sink into his shoulder as he comes, marking Steve both inside and out as he rides out his high. It takes them both a moment to catch their breath, and even then Steve doesn’t dare to move, worried his legs might give out if he tries.

Lips brush over the bite on his shoulder - a quiet apology - before traveling upwards, dotting kisses along the column of his neck and ending just below his ear.

“We need to get out of here before you pass out on me, okay sweetheart?”

Steve hums in response, still hesitant to move from his spot, but does after another moment. They rinse off again and Eddie helps him clean the cum out of his ass before they finally turn off the water and dry off. He watches Eddie get dressed, watches as his athletic body is covered by comfy sweatpants and a shirt that absolutely used to belong to steve.

The thought of not sharing a bed with Eddie, of not being able to just hold him and feel him for a while, is almost nauseating. He needs to be close to his boyfriend tonight, and he can’t help his soft “Will you stay with me tonight? Wanna sleep next to you.”

Eddie’s form sags in relief, like he was waiting for the question. “I was hoping you’d ask. I’ve been dying to cuddle you for weeks.”

That makes Steve chuckle, and he reaches out to grab Eddie’s shirt and tug him closer. “I call little spoon,” he says, and Eddie just beams and leans in for a quick kiss.

“Deal! Let’s get out of here, little spoon.”

#i did do a bunch of research and learned a lot about hockey #my knowledge is still minimal tho #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #joey writes

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alwaysonf1 · 6 months

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oopsy?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning: Canadian NHL team shit talking. Middle fingers.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: N/A

As much as Iman doesn’t mind and is one hundred percent on board for all the filming and hanging out with the drivers, she's happy that it’s not an every day of the week and every class kind of thing. There’s a level of mental capacity it takes to deal with the people around her while doing this that she can’t maintain every day.

But today isn’t one of those days. Today they’re at a track and that’s one of her favorite places to be no matter where it is.

NOLA Motorsports Park hasn’t seen any real IndyCar action since twenty fifteen, but it’s still a place that some teams use when they want to test and practice in a place where it wouldn’t really be expected. Though there were times they did open the public stuff and in about a month there would be a McLaren sponsored karting tournament for kids already in and new to the world of motorsport.

Iman looks forward to that day because she enjoys helping the kids with their races and even more so helping them understand how their karts work. She was even going to be in charge of a more informational segment that she knows is going to be boring as hell, but hopefully insightful for kids and their parents.

The sport can be hard enough getting into it and she wanted to make it easier for them. Even if she felt a little like a fraud speaking as her path hasn’t really been from the ground up like half the kids there.

But at the moment what she’s most happy about is that she isn’t the one making the drive to the track. The place is over an hour from her apartment and though it rarely feels that long it’s nice to have someone else to do it.

Though she could do without being sandwiched between her brother and her new frenemy, Lance.

“It’s a Canadian sport. And they are original, how could you dislike them? They have more championships than Seattle has in years playing. I mean I like them too, but come on, Iman.”

The entire rant is funny and it’s the same argument they’ve had twice now after he found out that she enjoys hockey. They’ve talked a little about football too, but the moment she enacted her duty of humbling a Canadian it’s been a back and forth of him being flustered over her dislike of almost all the Canadian teams in the NHL. Most of it being due to her disdain for certain players - most of which for petty reasons and some because they’re assholes.

She reaches out and pats his leg, giving him a soft and kind look that’s only playfully condescending.

“How about we pick this back up when a Canadian team breaks their thirty year streak of not winning the Stanley Cup. Something multiple players in Seattle have done in that time period.”

“You went there?”

“I went there.”

Lance huffs and puffs. He tries to say something, but every time his mouth opens he closes it again. If I didn’t notice the way he wanted to laugh and the resignation in his expression I would fear I’d genuinely offended him, but I know I hadn’t. Poor man knew it was the truth, even if it was a painful one.

“It’s their year.”

“Who’s year?”

He sighs. “I don’t know. One of them.”

“Leafs?”

At that he makes a face that can only be read as disgust.

“You’re mad at me and you don’t even like them.”

“I’m obligated.”

“I get it.”

Because she does. That conditionally and sometimes fake patriotism got the best of her too.

She opens her mouth to bring them back to common ground by shitting on Vegas, but for the tenth time there’s a pull at some strands of hair at the back of her head. Eyes narrowed she turns her head to look at her brother. Who doesn’t even bother to look away or remove his hand.

“Why?”

Lewis shrugs.

Rolling her eyes she reaches up and pulls on one of his braids, earning a swat to her hand.

“Don’t pull my hair,” he says.

“Then don’t pull mine.”

And he does it again.

Like the child she sometimes is, she goes to retaliate, but the van rolls to a stop and she settles for glaring at him.

“Ha.”

“Oh, shut up.”

With the last word she follows the others out of the van, “accidentally” kicking Lewis on her way out. By the time he’s out and able to get her back she’s already standing at the front of everyone barely suppressing a gleeful smile. He joins the group and flips her off in a covert way and she does the same.

Not them doing that on the low mattered since the cameras weren’t focused on the group yet. Every camera person is huddled together talking amongst themselves.

“Is that a McLaren indycar?” Alex asks.

“Sure is.”

Daniel raises his hand, a broad smile on his face. “Are we going to get in it?”

“Maybe.”

That seems to shock everyone, but there is some giddiness to it. One would think that a group of men who raced for a living and who would be back to doing it in about a week wouldn’t be so eager to get into a car. But then again that’s the driving force of why some of them do it for a living.

Before anyone can say anything else Anne walks up and the camera surrounds them. Anne gestures to Iman and she takes her cue.

Iman hitches her thumb backward. “This is where I do a lot of my internship work during the school year. Though it’s not often used for pro-racing, it is used for testing. And that’s what McLaren’s Indycar team is doing here for the next month or so. And today you’ll be helping me with work.

“All of you know there is some level of secrecy going on with this stuff, but everything you see and hear today will be things that are known to the public or that no one cares about anyone else knowing. Plus, this testing is for this past season's car, not the coming one.

“We’re going to get a tour of the place and then get to work. Any questions before we get things going?”

The group is quiet and after a few seconds Iman nods and then turns. She leads the group up to the pit lane where McLaren mechanics await them. There are greetings and then another explanation of what they’re doing there. Then they’re led off on a tour of the spaces. They field questions from the drivers and to round out the tour they end up back in front of where they started.

“Okay, so we’re trying to figure out what went wrong with this engine during one of the races this season. We had to replace the whole thing and it didn’t become a priority to take it apart and find out, so that’s what we’re doing now to see if there’s anything we need to change in the future,” the head mechanic says.

He looks around at everyone in the way one does when ensuring that they have a listening audience.

“Okay, so you’ll see what Iman and our team do to figure that out. I know this could be more exciting, but we decided this is a good glimpse to really show what she does and in a way we’re comfortable showing. You’ll pair off and our people will explain what’s going on. Feel free to ask questions and point out any oddities you see, we need all the eyes on this that we can get. It’s all preliminary, so they won’t be at it for long and then that’s where the fun begins.”

He shares a mischievous smile with Iman and by the looks of everyone it makes them a bit unsettled.

“What does that mean?” Lance asks.

Iman shrugs. “You’ll see. Now go get changed.”

They do what she says even though she could see the questions they want to ask.

About ten minutes later everyone returns in coveralls. Iman is already dressed in the clothes she works in so she’s sitting on a rolling chair when they return.

“Ready?” she asks.

They nod.

“Okay, I’m not going to treat this like a class room so everyone in groups of two and then you’ll be with one of us.”

Much like all Iman’s years of school, all the drivers freeze. Then they all scramble toward their chosen person. Despite the small group - or because of how small it was - some end up losing out. It takes all of her not to burst into laughter when Carlos goes for Charles and Lewis snatches up the Monégasque. Which means Carlos is with Daniel. The man pouts while Daniel grins ear to ear, but you could tell it was more playful.

Lewis and Charles laugh at their antics and Iman knows that those two groups are going to be a chaotic mess.

And because she’s so busy holding back giggles at their nonsense, she misses the chance to grab a group that doesn’t contain her brother. She knows that part of this whole thing is wanting them to be together, but she would be a bad little sister if she didn’t act indignant about it.

“I guess I’m stuck with you too,” she says, rolling her eyes.

Lewis grins. “Yes, you are. You’ll love it. Won’t she Charles?”

Both men turn their heads to face each other and they share similar grins. Then they turn to her and she sees devious intentions in their eyes. Iman feels like they’re plotting against her and she doesn’t like that.

“Of course. We are a delight,” Charles says.

Now she really knows they’re going to be a handful. Though she hopes putting them to work will help.

“Sure, you will be. How about using that delightfulness to help me disassemble this.”

She gestures to the problem engine. She’s to take care of that one while the others look at two others. Both of them cling to their little creep show and then finally nod and help her disassemble the thing. Lewis is a little competent in it because she always talked about it and forced him to learn, but Charles is a little surprising to her. But it’s nice to only have to give a little guidance and get to focus on her work.

Of course she gets so into it that she forgets that she should probably talk to them a little after Charles clears his throat. By the sounds of it he’d been trying to get her attention for a little while.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?”

“You work for McLaren?” he asks.

“This year.”

“Only this year? They seem very okay with this for such a short time.”

“Once before, but for a shorter amount of time then. I’ve done about four internships, two of them with them. One in Nascar and another for a different IndyCar team.”

“Wow, that’s a lot. How do you find the time?”

“I don’t. Just chaos twenty-four seven.” She laughs. “But to be fair, the first IndyCar was when I was a senior in high school. They were doing a program for kids of that age to get them interested and I was a test subject. Since my mother worked for them it was more likely they’d get better feedback versus the kids who might be scared saying anything could get them blacklisted.”

“Really?”

Iman smiles. “Really. There weren’t many issues and nothing major though, so it was fine.”

“No, I mean in high school?”

“Yup. It’s what happens when you tell the people in your life what you want to do for a living and they have the connections. The moment my mom knew I was serious she had me applying everywhere and brought me in to shadow her and anyone else she could have agree. I was annoying, but good enough that they didn’t tell her to stop.”

Talking with Charles is easy and the conversation is one that helps her focus on the task of disassembling the unnecessarily greasy mess that is her side of the engine. Something is peaceful about it too. Nice even.

When she looks up and past Charles to her brother Iman sees a weird expression on Lewis' face. It’s one he wears when he knows something or thinks he knows something and a weird smile. She wants to question it, but thinks better of it. Knowing Lewis it will irritate her and there is a part of her brain that is sure she knows what that look is for and she refuses to address it.

Not stepping into that shit show. Nope.

“Okay, what happened?” Lewis asks.

“It stopped the car completely and then when we went to check it there was a small-ish fire.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was the furthest from the fire, Lew.”

There’s some grumbling, but his expression and body language mellows out. Not much though. For some reason Iman looks to Charles for support, but instead she’s on the receiving end of a look that gives off mild anger and a silver of disappointment. Of course she doesn’t know Charles well enough for her to fully understand his expressions, but she’s familiar with the reactions of siblings.

Iman groans. “Oh come on. Not you too.”

“I’d be mad at my brothers for it as well,” Charles says.

Lewis fist bumps the man and they both stare Iman down as if expecting something like an apology from her. One that she isn’t willing to give, because while she gets the worry and is appreciative of it - especially when Charles barely knows her - this is her job. She’s made a career choice and these kinds of situations are the kind of shitty parts that she expects and that need to be expected. Especially from people who’ve seen their fair share of chaos and tragedy in the world of motorsport. She knows that that’s probably why they’re worse about it. But Iman also knows that there’s something more to it.

Instead of indulging them she rolls her eyes and focuses on the engine. They join in after a couple seconds and she guides them through it, telling them the running theory on what they think caused the fire and answering the questions they have about all the ways their hypothesis could be true.

The help feels nice. They don’t slow her down at all and even if they did she realizes that she wouldn’t mind it. Their interest makes it enjoyable.

By the time they finish they’ve mostly ruled out what it wasn’t but have no confirmation on if what McLarens mechanics think went wrong did. It’s frustrating, but Iman knew enough about the job to know that eliminating possibilities was sometimes better than finding the answer right away. In this case it meant she could catch anything that was also an issue, but didn’t get its chance to show out. And there were at least two of those issues she had to document.

Iman follows the other mechanics to give a report and compare notes and she returns changed into clothes she brought with her. When she emerges on the track the drivers are also back in their clothes and standing in front of some of the newest cars from their respective brands or the creators of the engines their F1 car uses.

Lance is looking at her with a raised brow as she enters their field of view and the others appear curious.

“What’s happening here?” Daniel asks, though with how giddy he is Iman knows he knows.

“Friendly race.”

As if they weren’t professional drivers that did this multiple times a year an electric kind of excitement filled the circle. It’s classic teenage boy behavior as they nudge each other and talk shit.

Anne steps in and grabs everyone’s attention.

“We’re going to have a friendly race. Everyone will be paired up and though there is only one tandem here, you can’t be paired with your teammate.” There is some groaning from the Ferrari boys. “And, because we have a McLaren IndyCar driver here waiting around, Pato O’Ward, will be joining in on the fun.”

Pato appears the moment his name is mentioned. He wears a wide smile and shyly waves to the group.

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind me crashing this.”

“Dibs!” Daniel yells.

Everyone startles, but then it’s a bunch of eye rolling and some bashfulness from Pato.

“That’s fine, Daniel. I was going to choose who gets who, but it's free for all. So pick yo…”

Before Anne can finish what she’s saying everyone scrambles and Iman crosses paths with Lewis. She knocks into him, sending him a little off kilter and with enough force that he ends up next to Carlos and her next to Charles.

“Hey!” he shouts.

Iman waves. “Hi.”

“You know what.. How dare… Why?”

“I haven’t caused you suffering in a while, which I’m obligated as a little sister to do. Also I’ve driven many Mercedes. I want to try out a Ferrari. Plus, even if I didn’t go for Charles the odds of me reaching Carlos before Lance chooses between him and Albon were low. Shit end of the stick, Lew.”

Everyone laughs as they watch a series of emotions play on the man’s face. He huffs and puffs as he tries to find the words.

Realization dawns on Lewis’ face.

“Wait. No. You’re not racing. You can’t… This isn’t… No.”

Every sentence he starts is clearly going to lead to the interaction turning from funny to a little more serious, so Iman lets him work through finding his words.

“Then you shouldn’t have taught me how. I’m not the one who got grounded at his big age for letting me race a car by a woman who is not their mother.”

Alex snickers. “Wait. He did?”

“Yup. Of course she couldn’t make it stick, but she was trying hard to figure out all the ways she could.”

Lewis winces, probably remembering it. Then he rolls his eyes and sulks. “Fine.”

With a much gentler smile Iman walks over and places a kiss on Lewis’ cheek and ruffles his braids, then retakes her spot next to Charles. Though he fights against it she watches the sulking stop

“Okay, just don’t cry to her or dad when I kick your ass.”

“Bring it.”

Anne retakes control of the conversation and directs everyone to their cars. They’re all given helmets, because this is hot lap adjacent.

“Everyone will get one lap, then you’ll swap. This is about speed and I know that every one of you is capable of doing this in this type of vehicle, but I’m reminding you all to be safe. Nothing crazy unless you’re sure you can execute it without risk to yourself and everyone else. Got it?”

There’s a chorus of agreement.

They all discuss who is going first, but Iman just directs Charles to the driver’s side. He looks at her with a brow raised in question, but then he follows her gaze and sees that Carlos is taking this lap. He smiles and nods.

Once in the car they strap in and Charles takes a few deep breaths. They’re given the signal to get into place and they get into a formation that works for them. Charles looks at her, a smirk on his lips that is equal parts cocky and confident.

“Ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

He extends his arm, his hand in a fist. Iman bumps it without question. Then they both turn forward and wait for the go ahead.

Despite seeing it at the same time as Charles and preparing herself, Iman's heart drops to her ass once he hits the gas. It takes a few seconds for her to chill out and by then they’re on the first turn.

Charles drives seamlessly and despite the blur of their surroundings Iman doesn't feel like she’s going terribly fast. Then a Mercedes sails by and then another. Without having to think about what’s happening. He is pushing it, but he’s holding back.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t let loose Charlie.”

He barely glances at her, probably to gauge if she means it, and then he pushes it. In about ten seconds he’s passed one of the cars in front of them and is fighting off the other. The others behind them catch up and it’s a battle back there, but it’s irrelevant to the one in front of them.

At every instance he tries to get around the Mercedes she knows Carlos is driving, but despite almost getting past he misses the mark by half a second. Before they know it they’re crossing the finish line barely behind the Mercedes. There’s a three way tie for the others about two seconds later.

And then everyone exits their cars. There’s some bragging and arguing. As Charles and Iman change sides he lightly bumps into Carlos with a frown on his face. He’s trying to seem upset, but the smile he’s wearing is wide.

“What about being comrades?” Charles jokes.

Carlos laughs. “Not here.”

Iman slides into the driver’s seat and takes a few deep breaths as her fingers trace the steering wheel. Nerves creep in, but they leave her the moment she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns to see Charles looking at her with a bit of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“A little bit of nerves. Nothing I won’t shake as I put them behind us.”

That brings back the smirk that he wore when he was behind the wheel. There was obviously going to be some uncertainty about her being the only non-driver in the race, but as she smiles back at Charles she realizes he didn’t bring that up or seem bothered when she snatched him up from someone who he’d seen do this for a living. It was a nice reassurance. Even if she knew damn well she could hang with the big boys. At least in this kind of situation, behind an F1 car was another thing entirely.

A muffled shout interrupts the moment and Charles puts down his window, revealing Lewis with his own down. He’s smiling, but it’s that stupid lazy one he puts on when he’s feeling himself.

Annoying man.

“Ready to lose, Immy?”

Of course he uses that nickname while being annoying.

“You should be asking yourself that, LuLu.”

“Well, I am a seven time…”

Iman flips him off and he shuts up, looking appalled. Charles puts the window back up while laughing, but she catches Lewis’ returning the gesture.

Again Charles reaches out and they bump fists. Then it’s lights out and away they go.

In comparison Iman’s take off is delayed, but despite the few inches everyone has in front of her when she does get going, she closes and surpasses it. She puts her speed over one hundred and keeps it there on the first turn. Lewis pulls ahead and so does Lance, but she manages to evade being boxed out and puts a little over a second between them.

The next turn has her losing speed a little, but she regains it and keeps herself next to Lance and Daniel for the straight and then on the next turn, she guns it. With ease she ends up in front of Lance and then she’s next to the Mercedes. Lewis increases speed, but it doesn’t beat her out. In the final turn she does what she did in the last one and pushes the car to its limits. The last few feet before the end of the track are a close race, but at the last second she pushes further.

With her speed the car goes past the finish, but it’s a second or two before her brother crosses the line. Everyone else trails by a second or more and then they all leave the car. Iman is shaking from the speed and the excitement. Charles rushes over and pulls her into a hug she happily returns.

“That was great. No, excellent. You crushed it,” Charles says.

“Thank you.”

There’s some shit talking, but they all praise her.

Lewis is pouting, but it’s not fooling her at all. He’s the last to pull her into a hug and it’s tight.

“You did fucking phenomenal, Immy. I didn’t expect that. You blew away all expectations,” he says.

As he pulls away he kisses the top of her head and refuses to let her go. Pride shines on his face and she feels even more proud of herself. She feels like she’s the shit. There are no delusions of grandeur on the level they’re at, but she beat multiple professional racers at something adjacent to their own game and that’s good enough.

“I did learn some things from the best,” she says.

He laughs, throwing his head back a little and then pulls her into another hug. They pull away and Pato walks up, patting her arm.

“Maybe you should be in Nascar, that was better than your IndyCar test,” Pato says.

“Her what? You’re what?” Lewis moves so fast to look at Pato and Iman that he should have whiplash.

“Uh…”

Pato winces. “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

“Iman Marie Hamilton. You’re what?”

He moves toward her just as she ducks behind Charles. With how serious - but not in a bodily harm way - he looks she’s sure Charles is going to move out of her brother’s war path, but he reaches a hand around and takes hold of her shirt. As Lewis tries to get around him he moves with her, using the shirt to leverage her.

“Maybe we should forget this and go to dinner.”

Sweet Charles is trying to de-escalate, but it’s not working and that’s in part because he can’t stop himself from giggling. Which turns Lewis ire from just Iman to both of them.

“LeClerc. Is this the war you want?”

Everyone holds their breath and seconds tick by.

“Yes.”

And without a word Iman breaks into a sprint with Charles following suit. Carlos has chosen Lewis' side so he goes for his teammate. Pato and Lance run interference for Iman while Alex and Daniel join in the sport of being the first to get to Charles. It’s chaos and it dissolves into laughter and labored breathing so quickly. Yet none of them stop.

You’d think they were all a bunch of children and not very much grown adults. But it’s so funny that Anne puts the camera people to work chasing them down for all the actions.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x black reader #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #formula one x black reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x black!reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fan fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #formula 1 x oc #charles leclerc x oc

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fannyyann · 1 month

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Tkachuk tells NHL.com how change in approach lifted game for Panthers

Forward no longer playing it safe, becomes ultimate clutch player in Florida

FORT LAUDERDALE, Fla. – There was a time in Matthew Tkachuk’s life when he played it safe. It’s hard to remember now, hard to get that image out of your head, the one where he is crushing opponents and taking over Stanley Cup Playoff games and literally walking off the ice after scoring a game-winning goal in the fourth overtime of Game 1 of the 2023 Eastern Conference Final.

It’s hard to remember there was a before.

But there was.

Once upon a time, like most mortals, Tkachuk didn’t want to make a mistake. He didn’t want to be blamed. He didn’t want to err, to let down his teammates, the fans, himself. It was a time when he wasn’t quite as confident, wasn’t quite as assured -- if that can be believed -- when he didn’t know that, for him, safe was the riskiest play of all.

“I think maybe earlier in my career, being a young player, not wanting to be the guy that made the mistake, [I] maybe played a little bit safe in the high-pressure situations,” Tkachuk said. “Just trying to play it smart and, honestly, safe’s a perfect word for it.

“And then a couple years ago, I was like, why not make the play when nobody else wants to try to attempt it because they’re too nervous [about] what bad’s gonna happen? And I’ve seemed to go the other way, in the extreme other way, and that’s seemed to work the last few years.”

Tkachuk pinpoints it exactly, to 2021-22, his final season with the Calgary Flames, before the trade, before he landed in South Florida and became a genre-crossing star, before he helped propel the Panthers to the Stanley Cup Final last season.

“I was like, ‘Why not?’” Tkachuk said. “Why wouldn’t you want to be the guy that can make that right play at the last minute of the game or whatever? … I’m like, I’m capable, I feel like I’m a good enough player where I can be confident in myself no matter what the situation is. And that’s just kind of kept going.”

The Panthers and Tkachuk will need it to keep going, as they head to the playoffs having hit a tough skid of late. The Panthers, who are set to face the Boston Bruins at TD Garden on Saturday (3:30 p.m. ET; ABC, ESPN+, SN, TVAS), are 3-6-1 in their past 10 games, including a 6-0 win against the Ottawa Senators on Thursday.

They are second in the Atlantic Division, four points behind the Bruins, having clinched a playoff spot on March 28, a far cry from last season when the Panthers clinched with a single game remaining on their schedule. They then fell behind 3-1 in the best-of-7 first-round series against the Bruins. That was when they -- and Tkachuk -- came roaring back to force a Game 7. To win that Game 7.

“I knew what he could bring on a stage like that, but I don’t think the whole rest of the world knew what he could do,” brother and Senators captain Brady Tkachuk said. “So for him to show what he was all about is pretty cool. And I think he’s got another level to his game.”

Paul Maurice thinks he knows why.

The Panthers coach has seen a handful of players in his career who are elite, who might even rise to the level of potential Hockey Hall of Fame players. And when he’s viewing them, he notes something, something that seems to be common to all of them.

“I watch them and they have a higher expectation of the result,” Maurice said. “And the analogy I used [was] when that guy goes in and buys a suit, he expects it to fit right and it’s going to look good. He has an expectation of the result.

“With Matthew, it seems to me, it’s tied, there’s four minutes [left], he’s excited about that situation because he has a really high expectation that something good’s going to happen because over the course of his life, that’s exactly what’s happened. It wasn’t a lottery. It’s just he’s gone out and made it happen, so he wants to and believes it can.

“I never sensed any arrogance on him. I truly have not. It’s not like, hey, give me the puck, I’m the shooter. He just thinks when he hits the ice, it could happen, and his life has told him that it could happen. So why wouldn’t you enjoy the hell out of that?”

Oh, and he is.

Not only has South Florida been a revelation for Tkachuk, so too has the team, which has entered into the top echelon of the NHL. He has figured out himself and his game, not only that he can -- and will -- come up big in the biggest of moments, but that he can also adjust to fit what the team requires, mold his game to the situation.

Asked if he is a chameleon, he readily agrees.

Especially in the playoffs.

“I look at those types of playoff games differently,” Tkachuk said. “Like some people if they’re not producing, they’re not doing too much to help their team, whereas one of the good things that I’m able to do is recognize what my team needs out of me on that particular night or that particular shift.

“There are some nights when offense comes second and all I’m trying to do is run around, be physical, try to forecheck and try to gain my team momentum like that. Even if teams are keying in on me or really focusing on me, there’s ways to make an impact.”

No one can argue with that. The Bruins still bear the scars -- some literal, some figurative -- of what Tkachuk did to them in the playoffs last spring.

In the final four games of the first-round series, Tkachuk had eight points (four goals, four assists) to help them win the best-of-7 series.

Boston forward Trent Frederic, who traces his understanding of Tkachuk back to basement games as kids in St. Louis, said that he thinks that, likely, had Tkachuk not been on the Panthers, the Bruins would have advanced.

But he was. They didn’t. And now it’s not hard to believe that many teams are uninterested in seeing the Panthers on the opposing bench in the playoffs, in seeing Tkachuk on the opposing bench.

Before a cracked sternum forced him to miss the fifth and final game of the last season’s Cup Final, Tkachuk had 24 points (11 goals, 13 assists), including four game-winning goals, in 20 playoff games.

“So the playoffs, I think the one quote, he’s a [expletive] gamer, that’s how I feel about him in the playoffs last year. And I know it’s profane, but it’s also very specific words, it’s exactly the way I feel about him,” Maurice said. “Sometimes the words just fit. Sometimes they’re casual and you swear too much. Sometimes I do. But that is how I -- a [expletive] gamer. He comes up with the biggest plays time and time again. And his energy level to be able to play at that level, that was specific to the hockey.

“This year, I’ve gotten to watch what an incredible leader he is.”

He sees it on the bench, in the exhortation of his teammates, in his calming of them, in his barking at them. He sees it when he brought a friend and his two kids into the dressing room after a game in Detroit, when Tkachuk paused in his postgame showering routine to sign a jersey, to take a picture, to get Carter Verhaeghe out of the shower to sign the other jersey.

“I don’t even blame players who don’t sign,” Maurice said. “But he doesn’t have to do that, and he does that consistently. … It’s not fake. It’s not showy. I think he understands the responsibility that he has and he takes care of it.”

There are so many responsibilities heaped on Tkachuk now.

He is a leader on the ice and off it. He is the second-leading scorer, with 83 points (24 goals, 59 assists), the top chirper and certainly the most talked about player on the Panthers. And he is ready, once again, to receive that pressure. He is ready for the playoffs. He is ready for the eyes and the lights and all that comes with it.

“I enjoy it,” Tkachuk said. “I think that the high intense games and the rivalry games and the, just like the intense part of the games that some guys might not feel too confident or comfortable, I seem to thrive in them and I love those moments.”

There will be no shortage of those moments in the waning days of the season, in the start of the playoffs, as the Panthers attempt to replicate their Cinderella run to the Final last season -- without the Cinderella part.

Because much like the Panthers, who have been at or near the top of the NHL all season, there will be no surprises when it comes to Tkachuk. He is known, now. Known for stealing games, for coming up big in the biggest moments, for never, ever playing it safe.

And when the pressure comes, as it will, he will be right there.

“Knowing him, that’s going to make him go to another level,” Brady Tkachuk said. “And I think for him, he’s going to love, not the spotlight, but the opportunity that comes from that and what he’s going to be able to do with that. He gets better when the pressure is higher.”

#the quote from paul!!!!!!! the story about pulling carter out of the showers to sign a kid's jersey!!!! it's all too much #bye!#matthew tkachuk #2324

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thevestigeofvanillaan · 1 year

Note

HIII! i recently found ur account and i LOVE ur work sm! (the hate fucking with stan.. SO GOOD🤤😻)

ANYWAYS..

i read the stan nsfw headcanons and I LOVE THE IDEA OF THREESOMES WITH KYLE!! could i request a bf!stan x gf!reader x kyle fic?? totally okay if not!

aw tysm bby🥺💗! it makes me really happy to see all the support! and yes omg ive been thinking about writing something about stan x reader x kyle so im glad you've made the request!

content: smut, 3some, petnames (only from stan i believe), somewhat innocent reader but not really, stan and reader are dating and kyle isn't a part of the relationship, first time 3some, head (m!recieving), stan and kyle kiss, use of y/n.

"Baby?" You hear Stan call out to you from the other room. "Yeah?" You ask back from the bedroom.

Not long later you hear footsteps from more than one person coming down the hall and into the bedroom to which the door was already open to.

"Oh, hi Kyle. I'm sorry I wasn't expecting guests." You say, getting up and taking one of Stan's sweatshirts from the floor about to put it on to cover your nipples showing through the white flimsy tank top you'd been wearing.

"No, no, that's okay." Stan says, taking the sweatshirt softly from your hands and placing it on the chair. "Baby, I wanted to know if you would be willing to try something with my friend Kyle here?"

Blankly staring at Stan as you attempt to think of what he may be talking about. "Mmm.. like what?" You ask innocently, genuinely not knowing what they'd meant.

"Well, Stan and I just wanted to try something that we think you might actually enjoy." Kyle shrugs as he looks over to Stan, who smiles and nods with a hum.

"Ooh, okay. Can ya tell me what it is?" You ask, sitting up and smiling excitedly.

Stan sits next to you on the bed and rubs your bare thigh as you're only wearing underwear and that tank top. Stan takes his free hand and uses it to move your hair from your face and kisses your neck. "Stanley—!" You exclaim in shock.

"Is it okay baby?" Stan backs up immediately.

"Of course, but what about Kyle? I thought we were gonna go do something?" You ask before realization hits you. "Ohh..." You exclaim, looking at Kyle and smiling. "Well come here big boy, all ya had to do was ask." You call over Kyle with grabby hands and pull his face down to kiss you.

"I warned you, buddy." Stan shrugs with a subtle chuckle as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor to get lost and he unzips his pants and pulls them down slightly, his boxers staying up.

Kyle takes your shoulders in his hands and softly massages them, sighing loudly and smiling down at you, now standing up straight and tall. "She's a pretty one, Stan. I'll give ya that." Kyle pats one of your shoulders before releasing you and walking around to the other side of the bed.

"Do I get to watch you guys kiss?" You giggle at Stan, crawling over to straddle his lap but when you try to get on he softly guides you to sit back down. "What?" You ask quietly with a pout.

"Not so fast, baby." Stan chuckles and looks back to see what Kyle is doing to see him just sitting on the bed. Stan looks back to you and smiles. "Wanna suck his cock?"

Looking over at Kyle to see his flustered face with a smirk on it your pussy grows wetter at the sight. Without a word you crawl over to straddle one of Kyle's spread out calfs. You place one hand on his belt and move your eyes to look at him. "Can I, Kyle?"

"Go ahead." Kyle smirks with a single nod of his head, giving you permission to undo his belt and suck his cock.

Which is exactly what you do the next second as you begin to undo his belt, pulling it out of enough of the jean loops to get the black ripped jeans and boxers to slide off just enough so his aching hard cock springs free.

Excitedly wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times before bringing your head down and teasing the tip with your tongue. You lick his pink tip a few times before sliding down his length.

Kyle groans from the warm feeling of your mouth sliding up and down his cock before you bring your head up. "Fuck–" Kyle groans at the loss of contact.

"I wanna see you guys kiss." You smile coyly at Kyle and he eyes Stan who's smirking.

"I warned you about this little one. She's a needy little brat, but she's so good for me isn't she?" Stan says looking at you as he finishes his sentence. You nod and bite your drool covered lip as you continue to smile. "If we kiss, you have to make it up to Kyle, okay? You stopped for this, you know." He tilts his head and you nod.

Climbing over to sit on an empty part of the bed, facing Stan and Kyle, you nod. "Go on."

Stan scoots over to Kyle and faces him before looking at you, "This is a one time thing, baby. And I don't wanna hear shit from anyone about this. This is between the three of us and the three of us only. You got that?" Stan says and you nod with a serious expression.

He takes his hand to Kyle's neck and moves his face towards his and pecks Kyle's lips softly before connecting his lips to his again, this time for longer and it's more heated than a simple peck. It goes on for a solid five seconds before they stop and Kyle looks at you. "Can you come back now? This is really getting painful, y/n."

You giggle and crawl over to bring your lips back to Kyle's cock, taking it into your mouth like you were before.

"Let me fuck you, baby?" Stan asks, pressing his clothed erection against your damp panty clad cunt. He moves your hips up more to make it easier and he massages your ass before placing a smack on it, causing you to send a vibrating moan straight to Kyle's cock to which he groans at.

Stan pulls down your panties and looks at your glistening wet cunt before sliding his fingers across it. When he hits your clit you move your hips and hum around Kyle's cock. "Fuck—" Kyle groans, bringing his hands to coil in your messy hair as you feel Stan rub his tip across your messy folds.

"Ready, pretty baby?" Stan asks and without waiting for your response he slides inside quickly with slight pain mixed with a lot of awaited pleasure. You moan around Kyle's cock and feel it twitch inside your mouth before he groans out "Close.!"

Not long after you feel his warm load spill into your mouth and you sputter and choke on it as you gasp for needed air, moaning in the process while Stan fucks into you harder from behind.

You look up at Kyle with his cum dripping down your chin, the rest of which you swallowed or spit out. "Good girl.." Kyle smirks down at you and you smile at the praise. He takes his thumb and wipes the cum off your chin before separating your lips and putting his thumb in your mouth, letting you suck off the juices.

"Fuck Stanley.." You moan out as Kyle takes his thumb out of your mouth. You look back at Stan and he's looking down as he fucks you, groaning through closed lips. He looked so pretty with a few strands of his dark fluffy hair covering his face and his concentrated face. You notice, too, that he's shirtless and his chest is covered in your pretty hickies from yesterday morning.

Squeezing your walls around him only makes his groans grow louder. "You're close, huh baby?" He chuckles and you moan out a yes. You look back at Kyle and move your hands to his shoulders rather than the bed, arching your back.

"Kiss me." You encourage Kyle who brings his lips to yours, to which you aggressively fight his mouth with yours, moaning into the kiss.

"I'm gonna cum baby, cum with me okay?" Stan says with a low voice as he fucks into you harder with more sloppy thrusts.

And with that you came as Stan fills you with his warm cum before pulling out, catching your stomach before you fall down and softly lying you onto your back in Kyle's lap.

All that can be heard his heavy breathing from all parties in the room and you look up at Kyle. "That was fun." You say before looking at Stan, who's now wearing just his baggy jeans.

"Yeah. Next time I'll let you fuck her." Stan winks at Kyle.

#vanillaan #request #south park #kyle south park #stan marsh south park #stan marsh x reader #stan and kyle #south park smut

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factual-fantasy · 4 months

Text

25 ASKS! WAHOO! :DD 🎉🎉🎉

Oooo what would DJMM be? A full sized birthday cake perhaps? XD

(Post in question)

:0 It was?? Thank you! :DD I'm glad you got some use out of it! <XD

(Post in question)

XDD She probably has, and no doubt she'll do it again!

@scally-wiggles716

:DD Thank you so much!! I'm glad you like the way I made him!! :}}} 💖💖💖

@badlyblurry

I mean.. sending me a drawing of your character that has nothing to do with any of my stuff? None of my characters are in it or anything? I don't see anything wrong with that..

But still, comments/asks are the easiest, safest and absolute best way to show your appreciation for my artwork. Genuinely, it is.

Oh its a horrible place. Its a kingdom ruled by a corrupt and evil king. The royal guard is corrupt and full of mostly evil snobs that abuse their power. There's plenty of food but none of it is given to the people.

Everyone is overworked, everyone is starving, there's murders in the streets. Its awful..

@khoiazo

@elegysonnet

<XD I've heard of Murder Drones but I never got around to watching it for a shallow reason. That reason being- now don't kill me!-... I don't like the art style 💔 specifically the way the characters look/are shaped. I know that's not a great reason to not watch something but its why I didn't want to watch it- 😭💔💔

Yes yes! Its the two golden kids. Although they aren't a reference to the missing children-

Its a bit hard to tell, but its supposed to be little Stanley and Stanford pines from Gravity falls! <XDD

(Also thank you!! :DD )

@shaziztrazh

All I can say is those smiles are creepy! Put some teeth in there and close that mouth! XDD

I actually have yet to draw him. I should do that sometime-

Just imagine the Spade King but much bigger and more.. grotesque..

(Post in question)

@couchwow

@beryl-shade

Oh yeah its very likely :00

@null-hydrangea (Post in question)

OOOO THAT'S REALLY MORBID AND ANGSTY-- But sadly no <XDD Its just an artificial separation anxiety of sorts.

@the-faketiccit0by

XD I'm glad! :}}

@syntaxgardenstudios

Woah, that sounds like a cool character! :D

Also thank you!! I'm glad you like my Octonauts stuff! :}} I'm sure I'll come back to it sometime XDD

@skeletormasterofevil (Post in question)

The buddy system is an A.I. programming that I created solely as a tool to make angst

The buddy system is a connected A.I. program that Glamrock Fredbear and Spring Bonnie both have. Its a program that tells the animatronics to always be in the same room. The further away from each other they go, the more distressed they become :(

@just-a-human-lad

:DD Thank you! And thank you for the littol frog guy! 💖🐸💖

I imagined the whole group is sitting around a camp fire and they're all talking a bit about where they came from and what their AUs were like. Jevil talks about how he and Seam were under rule of this horrible King. And how Seam was the court magician and he was the court Jester..

River makes a comment; "Oh.. You must just despise anything Jester related then, yes..?"

Jevil nods "Oh yeah, cant stand the stuff."

Then Grillby says, "..Then why do you still wear your jester hat?"

There was immediate tension between Seam and Jevil. But Jevil thought of something quick. "...You really wanna know why I don't take off my hat?"

Grillby: "uh.. yes..?"

Jevil creates all this suspense around it and then he goes. "Its becuase I'm bald under there, and you all would probably go blind from the reflection if I took my hat off." Cue giggling from Goner kid and a couple snickers from the group. The tension dissolves and the subject is changed. No one really thinks to bring up the hat thing again after that.. they all somewhat just accepted that as the answer.

Thank you!! :DD I love drawing them, so I'm glad you love how they look!! :}}}

If that worlds Seam is anything like mine, he wouldn't have been able to follow through with it.. Imprisoning him is one thing, executing him is just not something he has the guts to do..

And if their Spade King is anything like mine? As punishment for not obeying his orders, he would have just killed them both. :(

Hypothetically though.. if he DID kill Jevil.. and then later on saw my groups Jevil? I feel like he'd freak out. Thinking he's some kind of vengeful spirit or something. "I killed you, I saw you die- you've been dead for years- there's no way that you're really here-" He'd push him away out of fear and maybe even run away..

He probably did.. :( 💔

#my response #undertale #deltarune #fnaf security breach

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ladylooch · 1 year

Note

I might have to request Nico fluff cause the last one you wrote was absolutely brilliant😭 and if you want to add some spice to it I'm down

The answer to any Nico fluff request will always be yes. Forever. He is so easy to write. And I really love this AU. So how about the fluffiest fluff there ever is in human existence 💍

This is part of the What My World Spins Around AU. Catch the other blurbs on my master list here.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: 18+ Content!, fluff, drinking, swearing because I like the F word... and smut LOL.

The final bubbles of my glass of champagne pop and sputter against my lips as I bring the flute to my mouth. I finish the drink off, glancing over my shoulder. I scan the inside of the restaurant, searching for Nico. He’s been in the bathroom for awhile. I hope he’s okay. Not seeing him in my immediate view, I turn back to the street just beyond our patio seating.

We are back in Switzerland for another off-season. The Devils year ended short of a Stanley Cup, but their captain is in much better spirits compared to last summer. The team grew so much this year; Nico did too. He became stronger in his leadership, more sure of the direction of the team and the future management has been promising him since he was drafted.

It feels like their hard work has pushed them forward enough to ease the sting. Instead, he can barely wait for the puck to drop next season.

I watch as a couple of bikers stride through the street towards the setting sun. It’s hinting at beautiful colors tonight. I pull my phone up to attempt a picture, but it’s pointless. The colors are prettier than the phone can even show.

I reach for my flute again, disappointed when I remember I already drank the last of it.

“Sorry, babe.” Nico announces his presences as he moves to stand next to me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, placing my hand on his wrist. He looks flushed and like he’s a bit troubled.

“Yeah. Just got caught up in a conversation inside.” He assures me. I nod in understanding. It’s a common occurrence when we are here. “You up for a walk?” He extends his hand to move my hair behind my ear, then off my shoulder. My dark curls cascade down my back drawing his brown gaze as they cover the bare skin of my upper back. I look around for our waiter, not seeing him in immediate view. “I already paid.” He tells me. I pause, wrinkling my nose at his weird behavior.

“A little impatient tonight.” I chuckle, grabbing my purse and accepting his outstretched hand.

“You do see this sunset right? It’s amazing. If we can get beyond the buildings in the next few minutes, it will be even better.”

I trust the Swiss native at his word and allow for him to hustle me down the street. My wedges hate the cobblestone path, so Nico has to continuously steady me as we go. We break through the buildings into an open area that leads to the marina and glacial lake we live on the other side of.

“Oh, wow.” I whisper. “You should have picked a house on this side of the lake.”

“They won’t build anything new over here. Ground is too unsteady in the winter.” His gaze is intense in front of us like he’s facing a fierce opponent, not staring at a gorgeous, summer sunset.

“Bummer.” I pout, following him down to the public pier that leads into the clear, blue water.

As we walk, the colors begin to change from soft glows of yellow to bursting warm colors beginning with pink and ending with orange and reds.

“Wow.” I whisper to him, completely mesmerized.

Our fingers are linked loosely together as we walk, swinging between our bodies. The colors intensify more, causing the lake to toss diamonds across it’s glass surface. The hues dance along the Swiss Alps causing an idyllic glow in the valley. It’s breathtaking and indescribable. My eyes drink in the sight, barely noticing when Nico’s fingers drop from mine. I stand rooted to my spot, trying to remember each flick of light across the mountains.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen-” I turn, to face Nico completely. When I see him down on one knee, my words get stuck in my throat. “Ah.” Sputters out with what is left of them.

“You are without a doubt the love of my life.” His voice shakes as he pulls in a breath. My hand clasps over my mouth as I close my eyes, whispering ohmygod over and over to myself. “I love you in ways I didn’t know were possible to love another person.”

“Yes.” I whisper to him, nodding my head and reaching for his shoulders. I drop to my knees, sliding my hands around his neck to stroke his cheeks with my thumbs. I tug his face to mine for a desperate kiss.

“I’m not done.” He laughs against my mouth.

“Yes.” I insist again, pressing my lips more forcefully to his.

“I haven’t asked.” He reminds me, but his tongue comes out of his mouth to tangle with mine. I pull back to look at him. His face swims in my growing tears. One spills over my bottom lash so he catches it with his thumb. My lips wobble, trying to stuff the happy sob in my throat. I end up bitting into my tongue until I can taste blood in my mouth.

“I never want to know what it’s like to not have this. I want you with me for every moment, good and bad and average, for the rest of my life.” He smiles as more tears dash down my cheeks. I nod enthusiastically in wholehearted agreement. He reaches out for my face. I gasp as I lean into his touch. “Will you marry me?” It’s an excited whisper that has an effervescent grin pulling my cheeks tight.

“Yes!” I squeal, head tilting back and spilling electric laughter. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He pops the black ring box open and I practically faint.

“Oh… my GOD. Nico.” I am flabbergasted by the size of the diamond. It’s an oval cut in a platinum setting with several smaller diamonds that form a V down the sides of the band. It’s better than my wildest fantasies or any ring on my Pinterest board.

“You like it?”

“I love it.” I watch my hand tremble as he slides the ring onto my finger.

“Whew, it fits.” He grins at me when he secures it in place.

“Oh.. how I love you.” I whimper to him, pressing our lips together again. The kiss is filled with sweetness. We share soft, open presses of our mouthes while his hands hold us firmly together.

Cheers break us apart. I look behind Nico and see his parents rushing towards us. Katja has her arms thrust into the air in excitement. Rino hold his hands up to his mouths to hoot at us. I smile, hiding my nose in Nico’s shoulder.

“I think we know those people.” I say, kissing the crook of his neck.

“They insisted on watching.” He chuckles, maneuvering us both to stand. I catch the glint of my ring as I brush a piece of my hair behind my ear. I can barely believe this is happening. Nico wraps his arms around my hips as we watch their final, joyful approach. His touch is grounding, but just in case this is a dream, nobody wake me up.

Nico keeps the celebration with his parents quick. We snap pictures, doing all the ring related poses and popping of champagne. Strangers embrace us with hugs and warm wishes of congratulations. I’m overwhelmed by the feelings of love and joy sweeping from every part of my body. Before I know what is happening, Nico is ushering me back to the car.

We crash into the house when we get home, beginning to strip each other’s clothes off.

“All I want on you is your engagement ring.” Nico tells me, tugging my dress over my head. My matching red, peek a boo lingerie has him groaning.

“You sure about that?” I ask him, watching as his eyes drink me in. He steps forward, leaning his head down to suck my nipple into his mouth through the fabric. The barrier is too much. He shoves the cup down, gripping my breast tightly in his hand before sucking me deeper into his mouth. “Ahhh.” I whine to him, fingers threading into his long locks.

“Yeah I’m sure.” His nostrils flare when he pulls away. On the counter, the world demands our presence. Vibrating and flashing with text messages and phone calls, begging to hear about how the Swiss captain proposed.

They can wait. We can’t.

Nico reaches around to unclasp my bra, happy when it falls to our feet.

“So fucking beautiful.” He hums, reaching for my other breast, tugging the pink nipple into his mouth. His teeth scrape lightly against it, making me wiggle impatiently in his arms. I reach for his hand, sliding it into my panties and beginning the motion I want from him. He grins, hooking my leg around his waist so he can run his thumb in tighter circles. My head knocks back to almost between my shoulder blades as I cry my appreciate to my future husband.

When my head snaps back, I turn into a vixen.

“You got on your knees; it’s only fair I repeat the favor.” I drawl. His glinting brown eyes watch my descent to the floor. He tugs his bottom lip into his mouth watching as I pull his thick shaft from his pants. His palms come to gather my hair at the back of my head. He tugs the hairs tight, holding my head back as his erection bounces against my tongue. He leers down at me as I stroke from base to tip. My wet mouth encloses around his head completely, sucking in steady pulses around the sensitive skin. Nico’s knees almost buckle.

“Look at how pretty my fiancé looks with me in her mouth.” He moans as I suck him deeper.

“Ring looks good too.” I point out, showing him the glittering of the diamond against his taut skin.

“Mmm, almost as good as you.” He groans as I swirl my tongue along his seeping head. I take him as deep as I can, letting him set his hands on my head to fuck my mouth. His thrusts deepen and I resist the urge to gag around his hefty length. He sighs heavily as he falls from my mouth. “I can’t.” He confesses. “Not going to last long enough to get inside of you.” He reaches for my hands to pull me up. “Where?” He asks.

“Right here.”

“Nah.” His head shake is assertive. “You deserve better than the floor.” He kisses my lips, swirling his tongue in my mouth to taste the last bit of himself there. His hands press into my hips, steering me towards the living room. We get to the couch wrapping our arms around each other, falling on it together. Our tongues meld as one, enjoying the company of one another’s mouthes.

Nico reaches between us, gripping his cock to put himself between my folds. His fingers play with me, massaging me until I’m whimpering beneath him again.

“Nico.” I’m exasperated, too empty to keep playing this game with him. “Please.”

“Beg a little more.” He asks me watching my face as my eyebrows pull together in need.

“I can’t… please, I can’t wait anymore.” I don’t even need to play it up. I’m that desperate for him. He likes the sound of my pleading. One more stroke down my heat and he smoothly pushes himself inside of me.

“Oh.” We both moan at the same time.

“So good.” He whispers into my mouth. He kisses me sloppily as his thrusts push me up the couch. The crown of my head hits the arm of it quickly. I wince slightly and Nico adjusts the pillow to protect my head. “Better?” He asks me, watching my face intently. I nod eagerly. With my head safe, he begins to increase the tempo. His hips snap and roll, then his staccato thrusts increase as he widens my knees.

“Fuck, baby you are gorgeous. So.. god damn perfect.” His long locks dance in front of his face as he looks down at us connecting. His gaze returns to mine when I scratch my nails down his arms. “Keep looking at me like that.” He murmurs, hand coming down to stroke my face. “Don’t look away.” I bite my lip, causing Nico to groan again. “So sexy.” My eyes close and he squeezes my cheeks as a reminder. “Me baby, eyes on me. I want you to see who makes you feel this good.” My fingers move from his arms to his ass cheeks, forcing my nails in to make him increase the tempo. “Tell me.”

“I want more, Neeks. Please. Just a little.”

He tilts my hips up, adjusting me so he can go deeper. I lurch off the couch, arching my back as he strokes my inner walls just right. My hand comes down, touching my clit in soft circles. Nico brings a hand to my breast, massaging it beneath his fingers.

“Baby.” It’s a breathless whisper that falls from my swollen lips greedily. I grit my teeth, eyes closing. Nico leans down to my ear, hot gulps of air enclosing the space between us.

“I’m so addicted to you, sweet girl.” He murmurs, thrusting faster into me. “The rest of my life still won’t be enough of you.” My fingers grip the back of his neck. Then, my nail beds turn white against Nico’s skin as I come, taking him right with me.

I’m shaking when Nico jerks a final time inside me. His strong arms hold most of his weight over me, but our chests stick to each other. I feel his nose on my shoulder. He glides his way to the dip of my neck then kisses his way up my cheek to my lips. Our breathing collides between our faces in ragged exhales.

The way he looks at me has tears building in my eyes.

“Do I really get that look forever?” I whisper to him, fingers ghosting along his face to brush his hair back from his eyes. He doesn’t speak just nods.

There are some things words can’t describe.

The feeling of laying in Nico’s arms, newly engaged and freshly loved, is definitely one of those things.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier smut #New Jersey devils #nhl writing #nhl fan fiction #hockey writing #writing request #my writing

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narratingvoice · 2 months

Text

My sincerest apologies for the radio silence from this blog recently. I know, it's very out of character for me. The thing is, I've been in a bit of a pickle over the past few months. The fiscal year for 2023 didn't end nearly as profitably as I projected, not even with the hype and celebration surrounding

THE TENTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE STANLEY PARABLE (2013)!

Server maintenance isn't free, you know, and neither are infinite holes. And with Unity changing its pricing structure on top of it, well, I really needed to put the old noggin to work finding a way to squeeze every last dime out of my fans provide new and valuable pieces of entertainment that will be worth your money. And that's why I'm thrilled to announce my partnership with the fine folks at I Am 8bit to bring you: The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe: Collector's Edition!

It's true! Yes, I know I did a fake announcement for something similar last year, but this one is for real! A physical product that you can purchase and have delivered to your home, and play on your Nintendo Switch or Playstation 5. And this package involves absolutely no changes to the game itself, which really takes a load off my back. Since I have no presence in the physical world, I have to trust that my collaborators will deliver the finest quality items. And trust them I do. Shall we take a look at all the wonderful bonuses you'll receive?

Stickers!

Just like the ones I slapped onto Stanley's bucket, now you too can slap these stickers on your own bucket. Or anything else that currently lacks stickers on it. You will not receive a bucket to stick them on. We floated that idea, but Mr. 8bit told me he'd rather not have to lug dozens of buckets down to the post office every day. You'd look like a right idiot doing that, I agree. So get your own bucket and enjoy the thrill of sticking!

Oh, and do be aware that whatever object you affix the "Property of Stanley" sticker to, does legally become Stanley's property, and he will demand you send it to him.

More surprises under the cut!

An instructional manual!

"But Narrator," I hear you saying, "didn't you just say you're not giving me a bucket? What do I need this for?" First of all, do not interrupt me when I'm giving a presentation. Second of all, this manual is for the bucket that's in the game. I've noticed many players do not seem to know how to operate the bucket, and treat it like it's a person rather than an inanimate container. With this instructional manual, I will give you a comprehensive guide as to what a bucket can do (such as: prevent water from spilling all over your trousers) and what it cannot do (such as: love you back). I have had some harrowing experiences in the field of instructional manual writing, but I think this one is some of my finest work yet.

A figurine!

Yes, our most requested piece of merchandise is finally here! The OFFICIAL Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe Stanigurine stands 5 inches tall and is made of durable PVC. And as with the virtual Figustans, that's all there is to it. There's no articulation or any type of toy action. You don't get anything but the feeling of deep satisfaction at owning this collectible. The package only comes with one, so why not buy six copies if you really want to recreate the game in your home?

But wait, that's not all!

If you are an absolute Stanley Parable fanatic, you'll want to supplement your Collector's Edition with even more plastic tat commemorating your favourite game. And you definitely want to support me as much as possible, right? So you can also buy:

The button that says the name of the person playing the game!

For just $10, you too can have a button that says your name, presuming your name is Jim. The button will only say the name Jim and will never say any other name, no matter how often you press it. I found that a lot of players really got into the immersive experience of being Jim, so I decided to keep it that way instead of programming it to say a whole lot of names. Sorry, but there are too many different names in the world. You're Jim and you'll like it.

Vinyl albums!

When you buy the Collector's Edition, you'll get a free code to download the Official Soundtrack in MP3 format. But what if you don't like MP3? What if you're a bit more old-fashioned in your audiophile taste? Well, I've got you covered! With this 2-record set, you can listen to all the office ambience on your gramophone or turntable. Why, you could even DJ a set with it! If you do, please send me your mixtape and I'll give it an honest review. My music taste is impeccable.

An instructional audio cassette!

Yes, this is just a cassette telling you how to install and run a copy machine. Listen, I took some odd voiceover jobs here and there to pay the bills. And I figured, you lot are so ravenous to hear my voice that you'd even pay good money to hear me deliver some boring instructions. At least, that's the impression I get from the more saucy side of the fandom. So that's what you get. Do I do anything funny? You'll have to buy it and find out!

Hold on, Stanley is trying to tell me something. What do you mean, nobody has a cassette player any more? Why wouldn't they? It's the perfect compact audio format! It's got two sides, which is more than you can say for a CD, and it's a lot more portable than vinyl. Well I'm not shipping out cassette players. You can take it or leave it. No refunds.

#the stanley parable #tsp #ask blog #original #gotta be on that grind tbh #((im genuinely extremely excited about this))

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black--cherryy · 3 months

Text

As u guys can see I'm back. Idk I'm free from studies/school right now and I need blogging cuz it's like free therapy for me. I'm feeling better now and everything is all good. (Well not really cuz I wanna k someone really badly but I will get over it in a few days).

I take requests for basically all people I've been writing for on my blog so feel free to request but I can't promise that I will write all of them..Only if I like the idea and won't be too many cuz tbh I don't feel like sitting here and writing 20 requests. I know...I'm very honest but lying won't bring us far.

♡

—

Todays menu: You falling on the ground in front of Rockers and how they would react.

(I would laugh at u for sure...♡)

☁️ Fluff ☁️

—

Paul Stanley: Would get kinda worried and help u up asking if ur okay. He wouldn't laugh no matter how good of friends or couple u guys are.

Gene Simmons: Would be like a disappointed dad and be like "can't u for once not be clumsy and watch ur steps?" Wouldn't help u up, instead just wait till u get up with an awkward smile.

Ace Frehley: Of course would laugh at u and make jokes but when it's really bad then help u up and ask if u need anything.

Peter Criss: He would giggle a bit but help u up and tell u to be more careful or even not let it happen and catch u.

Eric Carr: He would be a sweetheart. Getting really worried and ask if u hurt urself badly and kinda overdo the situation but in a cute way. He just wants u to be okay as he hates seeing u hurt.

Ozzy Osborne: He would tell u to be more careful and not help u up but kinda complain about u not being careful.

Joey Tempest: U either would fall into his arms or if u really hit the ground, he would have this typical shocked face with wide eyes and immediately ask u if ur good and help u up.

Klaus Meine: He would be like "😬" and ask if u hurt yourself. He also helps u up and even hugs u if it's bad.

Nikki Sixx: Would look at ur ass and smirk but eventually help u up and ask if ur fine.

Andy Biersack: Would immediately knee down and stroke over ur cheek and ask if ur fine and of course help u up also being kinda worried. Would never laugh at u..Only if ur his bestie.

—

(I really need to listen to some more bands and read more about the artists. I know a lot of bands and their music but don't read about the musicians)

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southparktegreity · 1 year

Text

✩ study buddies

[ kenny mccormick x reader ]

synopsis : you'd never really met kenny mccormick, not until you two both got partnered with each other for a project. you seemed to catch his eye after that.

gender : neutral cws : none word count : 2,424 requested : yess !! off tumblr a friend requested it :))

NOTICE : all characters are aged 19/20's! this takes place in college !

You were never the type to go out of your way to talk to people. Some people dubbed you the most introverted introvert they'd met, though that's only if they got to meet you. Generally speaking, you had avoided nearly everyone at your school - and previous schools before this one.

However, here you were, sitting next to Kenny McCormick. Somehow you managed to get partnered with one of four people you had wanted to avoid. You were never too fond of 'Stan's team' as most people called them. They were loud and brash, and drew all kinds of attention. There was Stanley Marsh himself, the drunken wallflower. Kyle Broflovski, one of the few straight A students with quite the temperament. Eric Cartman, who had fucked you over more times than you could count, and then finally - Kenny McCormick. You didn't really know much about Kenny, aside from the few rumors about his perverted nature. Though, rumors were just rumors, and you couldn't be bothered to believe them.

Kenny was looking at you, you could feel that. His gaze snapped you out of your thoughts. You just weren't sure what to say or do, staring down at the assignment paper - examining it as if it was the most important thing in the world. Kenny slowly looked over your shoulder, as he sat next to you. He was looking down at your intense gaze - as if you were avoiding looking at him.

"I don't bite, you know." Kenny spoke with a charming smile, one that would woo anyone with a beating heart. Including you. You could feel your face subtly heat up under embarrassment, realizing you should've said something sooner. All you could muster up was an apologetic look on your face, before leaning back in your chair and setting your homework down.

Kenny clearly took note of this, though feeling unsure as to why you weren’t too keen on talking. He didn’t know you very well. In fact, he’d bargain to say he’d never even really heard of you. At least not from his main friends. He knew you talked to his good friend, Butters occasionally and sometimes Heidi but other than that, who were you? Kenny felt himself slipping away into his thoughts, as you continued to work on whatever the assignment was.

Your mind wandered to Kenny as you looked down at your paper, beginning to read the instructions aloud. You couldn't help but peek over your paper to see if he was even listening, to which you found his eyes wandering around the classroom.

"Are you okay?" You mustered up the courage to say, after long consideration. "We can work on this another time, if you're busy - or just aren't feeling it."

"Uh -" Kenny looked back at you as you snapped him out of whatever he was thinking about. "Yeah, yeah actually. We should go to a park or something." He spoke gently towards you.

"No need. Let's just go over to my house. I can order pizza or something. My parents should be out for the rest of the night anyways." You softly smiled as you got up, starting to move away as you picked up your stuff. "Just be over there around five, okay?"

"Sweet! That's perfect, I'll see you then!" Kenny smiled at you, his grin evident in his eyes. When you turn away, he mumbles a silent prayer - thank god he didn't have to bring you over to his house. What a nightmare that would've been.

Meanwhile throughout the school day, Kenny decided to ask around about you. He decided to skip out on asking his friends, knowing exactly how that would turn out (especially with Cartman there). So that left him with Cartman's ex, or his own best friend. One of which would probably give him the most straightforward answer.

Kenny found himself looking around for Butters, only to find you talking to him right in front of his locker. His heart nearly stopped as he hid behind the nearest wall, listening in to your conversation with him. Kenny knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but he couldn't help himself! He had known nothing about you, wouldn't you do the same?

"Heya, y/n! Whatcha doin' later? Wanna come over?" Kenny heard Butters say. He had no idea you two were close enough to hang out. That got his mind wandering, and he felt a pinch in his heart.

"Oh... I wish we could hang out but I invited Kenny over to work on some school work."

"What? Really? I didn't know you guys were friends! Oh hamburgers, I woulda gotten you both to hang out sooner!" Butters spoke with a giggle and a smile - as he always did.

"I don't know if I'd call us friends..." You shrugged, placing a hand behind your neck. "...He's just coming over to finish up our project - not that we even really started."

"Oh I getcha." Butters looked down, then back at you. "I'll see ya around y/n, I gotta get to class!" You waved your goodbyes to each other. You turned the corner only to find a certain blonde, bumping into him and dropping your stuff.

"Oh - shit! I'm so sorry.." You immediately bend down and start grabbing your stuff, quickly before picking up a book with someone else's hand touching yours. You looked over at Kenny, his face flushing a little as you both stood there holding the book and each others hands. Your stomach started feeling funny, doing backflips on itself. You quickly put your book back in your pile, out of pure embarrassment, then standing up to look down at Kenny.

"Sorry." Is all you could muster up before walking away. Little did you know, you forgot three little papers on the ground, leaving Kenny to pick them up for you. He smiled down, looking at them. He couldn't help but admire the little doodles you put on the page, little swirls or silly characters. He sighed bashfully, holding onto the papers on his chest and walked off gleefully. Completely forgetting to talk to Butters entirely.

Kenny found himself paying more attention to you, he could never quite catch up with who you were with or spending time with each hour. It was a new group each period, but you never seemed to stay with them for very long. He wondered what it would be like to have so many friends. He's only really hung around his little group of four, and Butters of course.

He couldn't help but watch as you spoke to Wendy about who knows what. He couldn't help but watch your eyes light up as you spoke about something with her. He couldn't help as his mind wandered, were you talking about a boy? Someone other than him? A friend of yours? A friend of his?? Butters?? He felt that same tinge he felt earlier, that same jealous feeling sneaking around him like a snake.

His mood was now sullied, as he looked down at his desk - putting his head down on it. Wondering to himself how he'd never given you the time of day sooner.

Meanwhile, you were talking to Wendy about a certain orange parka wearing boy. You were asking her questions about Kenny, trying to figure out if he was sweet and interested or if he was similar to a certain chubby trouble maker in his group.

"So... Wendy. I wanted to ask you a bit about Kenny.. Is he um -" Your face flushed a little before speaking up. "You know is he like the people he hangs out with?" You fidgeted with your hands.

"Why are you asking me this? I thought you two didn't really talk?" Wendy looked at you a little confused, putting a hand on her hip.

"Oh! Um... we got paired together for a project, and I just - you know... want to make sure he's a good dude and all." You fumbled over your words, giving Wendy a hint as to what you were really getting at.

"Well, I've only hung out with Stan's friends a couple times... usually without Cartman there." Wendy looked up, putting her hand on her chin and thought for a moment. "Kenny's pretty quiet, he's got a similar sense of humor to Cartman but I don't think he's even nearly as bad as him. Though, he does have a reputation with women. I think it's all fake though, probably one of the girls spreading rumors about him." She shrugged.

"Reputation?" You looked at Wendy with curious eyes. You thought back to what you told him earlier, 'nobodies home' and hoped to yourself he didn't take it the wrong way.

"You know, a lot of people say he sleeps around. Like I said though, I think that's probably just rumors people made up - wouldn't be surprised if it was Cartman or one of the girls." She sighed. "I'm sure he's nice though." Wendy smiled at you, a genuine one. "You two would make a cute couple." She said gently nudging your shoulder as you both looked over at Kenny with his head on his desk.

"You really think? Wait -" You looked back at Wendy, asking her somewhat confused as to how she knew where you were going with all of this.

"Mhm." She nodded her head, looking back at you while putting a hand on your shoulder. "Nothing gets by me!" You both laughed together, chatting a little more. Your eyes couldn't help themselves and kept glancing over at a certain boy.

You had just finished up cleaning your room, preparing some space around your desk area for the both of you to work. Soon after you had heard the doorbell ring, which prompted you to run down the stairs, but not before taking one last look in the mirror to make sure you looked good.

You swiftly opened the door, looking at Kenny up and down before opening the door a little more to let him in.

“Hey.” He looked at you, awkwardly stumbling into the door.

"Hey, Kenny." You smiled at him, a little nervous. "We can go up to my room? You know to study." You spoke, pointing to the direction of your room.

"That's what I'm here for right?" Awkwardness hung through the air, you both looking back at each other unsure as to why the tension was building.

You nodded, leading him off to your room. You made sure to leave some space around for him to sit at your desk.

"We should get to reading the textbook right? Since it's part of the assignment?"

Kenny nodded as he sat down, flipping through random pages in his backpack, lord knows he'd never organize any of it. While Kenny was searching for his stuff, you decided to get right into reading, hoping the tension in the room would cease and you both could relax a little.

Kenny hung onto every word you spoke, for once in his life he felt like he was understanding the passages in the textbook. He couldn’t help but think to himself how beautiful you were, even while speaking about something mundane and uninteresting. Somehow you were able to grab hid attention, with the topic and otherwise. Maybe it was the glimmer in your eyes when you spoke, or the way you’d fumble over your words whenever you looked up at him. Kenny watched you work as if it was the last time he’d see you. That was, until you broke his trance.

You had stood up, and started to stretch. Your joints making that sweet classic noise as you started to stretch. Your arms in the air, bending over each other. Kenny watched, for a moment and thinking about how flexible you must be. He shook his head ridding himself of the thought, thinking it’s probably better he doesn’t make a joke about that (just yet). His mind wandered back to what it had earlier, the tinge in his heart when he thought of you with someone else. He needed to act now and fast.

“I’ve something for you.” Kenny opened up his bag, taking out the notes you had left when you dropped your stuff. “You left this.. when you bumped into me.” Kenny smiled, feeling a little awkward.

“Thank you Kenny.” You met his gaze, just for a split second before turning away and setting them on the table.

“Um.. I figure, while I’m here… I might as well ask…” He took a deep breath in, looking down at the papers you both had been working on earlier. “Do you like Butters?” His eyes met yours, desperate for you to say no, not that you’d ever know that.

“Pff - what kind of question is that?” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “We’re in college now! Remember? This isn’t elementary school!” You nudged his arm, your touch lingering a little bit longer than usual.

“So.. I take it that’s a no?” He perked up, his confidence rising a little more than it had been before.

“Yes, I don’t like Butters.” You giggled, leaning closer to Kenny. “But… there is someone I’ve had my eye on all morning.” You nervously put a hand back on the table, sitting back down to regain and steady yourself.

“Mm, and who might that be?” Kenny questioned, raising an eyebrow at you - almost teasingly.

“I dunno, why? Are you getting jealous?” You teased right back to him, the air playful and your hearts beating faster.

“So what if I am? You gonna do something about it?” Kenny looked back at you, glancing at your lips before looking back at your eyes.

“Mm.. maybe, maybe not. We’ll see where the night takes us.”

“Oohh.. you’re such a tease.” Kenny flushed, looking over and away from you. His face looking off to the side.

This prompted you to place a hand on his cheek turning him to look at you. He looked back at you, then your lips, then at you, signaling for you to make a move. Then you quickly placing a gentle kiss on kiss lips, reaching your other hand up and on his other cheek. Meanwhile, his hands found themselves placed against your waist, holding you gently as to not ruin the moment. Unfortunately, you both were soon running out of air - leading you to let go of him, looking back at his blue eyes.

“How’s that for being a tease?”

#south park x y/n #south park #south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #south park kenny #south park kenny x reader #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick

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heartz-for-hh · 3 months

Text

Since I also write sp here are some NSFW and SFW headcannons of stan I'd you went with his family camping

(Not proofread so please tell me if there's any errors!)

BEFORE I HEAR THIS, HE IS AGED UP!!

Wrote a tad bit a lot of sfw headcannons lol

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

SFW:

• his family was the one who told him to invite you

• his family has an annual camping trip

• During the car ride, he shares his earbuds with you as plays music

• "trust me you'll need it"

• idk how, but they trusted you 2 to be in a tent together

• when you guys are in the tent sleeping, he will at first be on the complete opposite side of the tent, and when you wake up, you'll find him all over you

• he knows the trail by heart because of the countless times he's gone

• whenever he wants to be alone with you, he tells his family you and him are going for a hike

• since he knows the forest, you guys just kinda wander around

• will pick flowers along the way without you realizing, and when he has enough, he give you a bouquet of them

• will take off the thorns of them first

• absolutely adores animals and will Pet any animals he sees on the way (would probably even if they had rabies lmao/J)

• will bring food along with him to give to animals he sees

• shows you his favorite parts of the forest

• sometimes you guys go behind tres/bushes when your nearby his family and kiss

• he most definitely wakes up SO late that by the time he comes out of his tent, his hair all messy, your already there talking w sharon

• meanwhile you make breakfast with his mom, he rests his chin ontop your shoulder, his hands wrapped around your waist

• his mom is so so so so nice with you

• "Stanley, I dont know how you are dating her!"

• most def would try to take out a small peice when you aren't looking

• "mhmm...smells good"

• you'd catch him every time, and at some point, you start slapping him with your spatula

• when you do he would look like that one SpongeBob meme

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

NSFW:

• would whispers leude things into your ear nearby people leaving you wet

• would defo make you go in the back with him so that he could finger you whenever he was really bored

• the day you guys made it, at around 6pm when the sun was barely setting he told his family he was gonna show you around the forest

• the moment you guys were away from his family, he went to a disclosed area and railed you ontop a rock

• bro was most definitely hard the whole car ride, and the fact you had wore a short white skirt and a tight t-shirt did NOT help

• during the roadtrip, since it was a 8 hr drive, after he had his fun with you, you would get revenge and slip your hands into his pants

• obviously you kept egding him bc that's very nice of you

• tears were pricking at the corner of his eyes

• most definitely begged and whined into tour eyes to let him cum, after edging him for 15 minutes straight you finally letter him

• he bit his lip so hard when trying not to make noises, you swear he drew bloody from his lip

• in the tent he would mark you anywhere on your neck or collar bone

• nect morning his parents would be like "oh where did those marks come from?" And he would just smirk and ask "Yeah, where did those marks come from?"

• would most definitely fuck you once his parents fell asleep

• one time because they were still awake he was making you cock warm him

• "you can stay silent for me right?"

• Once he would come back from his hike with you (aka after railing you), your legs would be so sore that you could not even walk back so he would carry you back

Istg idk what I was on, I did this in 20 MINUTES😨

#stan marsh #stan x reader #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh headcanons #sfw headcanons

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thoughtsofedin · 2 months

Text

Unravel Me

ᴅɪᴇɢᴏ ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ/ʜᴀʀɢʀᴇᴇᴠᴇꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡʜʏ, ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ?

ᴛᴀɢꜱ: Angst, Smut, Open Ending, Emotional manipulation.

Minors do not interact.

There's a cut on Diego's lip when he sits down next to you and orders a drink. He's seething, anger radiating off of him in waves that you can physically feel. The bartender ignores him, paying more attention to the older blonde woman to your left and you can tell that it irritates him more. For a second, the world around you shifts and changes and you can see Diego reach over the bar and grab the bartender by the collar of his shirt, slamming his head into the wood.

"Don't," you say with a warning, blinking the future away and sliding your drink over to him. "It doesn't end well." you warn him, the sight of Diego with a bullet wound in his shoulder already fading away as he takes your drink- a sour cherry gin- and finishes it in one go.

"You gotta stop doing that shit, Eight." he sounds annoyed, the alcohol momentarily roughening his voice.

"I don't do it on purpose." you tell him for the millionth time. And its true. You've never really spent your time looking for the future, it just came to you whenever it wanted.

"Whatever."

You scoff at his attitude, growing annoyed that he was trying to take his anger out on you. "You and Lila fight again? Is that why you're here, pouting?"

"I'm not fucking pouting!" he hisses, and you shift in your seat, the glass he accidentally hit missing you as it tumbles to the ground and shatters by your feet, watered down vodka wetting your shoes.

"What did you do this time?" you ask, ignoring his outburst. "I thought things were getting better."

"I," he starts, his voice guttural "Didn't fucking do anything."

"Then why are you so mad?"

He takes a second to answer, running his hand through his hair and tugging at the short strands. He looked miserable. Like someone had stolen his favorite toy or something. "Diego...?" you press, annoyance shifting into worry.

"Stanley's not my kid." There's a pain to his voice that makes it sound as if he was trying to speak underwater or if he was holding back the need to cry. "Lila lied."

"Shit," you say, turning to look at him. "Diego, I'm so sorry." gently you reach for his hand, wrapping your fingers around his knuckles and giving them a squeeze. It might have taken him a minute to settle into his role as a father, but he had done so. Happily. With an excitement you had never seen in him before.

Lila was horrible for lying to him. For manipulating him like this. "Why the hell did she do that?" you ask, squeezing his hand once again.

Diego pulls his hand away from yours, once more tugging on his hair. "She's fucking crazy? I don't fucking know."

The man behind the bar finally slides his drinks towards him and Diego wastes no time in throwing them back, ordering more. You do the same, knowing that right now wasn't the time to tell him that maybe he shouldn't drink his problems away.

"Do you want me to go talk to her?" you ask and he scoffs.

"And say what?' he reaches across you, grabbing your drink as soon as its placed in front of you and tosses the straw aside. "I got it. I don't need your help."

As he brings the glass to his lips the world becomes a haze, your vision blurring and shifting until you see Diego passed out on the staircase. There's a bottle of tequila broken on the stairs, glass embedded in his hand. Lila finds him, and she's screaming at him. You can't really focus on what she's saying, the sound muffled. Diego startles awake, and he accidentally kicks Lila.

You close your eyes as her head hits a stair, flinching at the noise.

"Stop drinking." you groan out, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. It doesn't do anything to stop the vision from playing over and over in your mind. "Please." you add, hearing his voice in your head. You might not like the woman but you didn't want her dead. Most of all, you didn't want Diego to deal with that kind of pain.

"Stop looking into my future." Even though he sounds angry, he sets the glass down, listening to you.

"Trust me, I want to. You think I like seeing these things?" you bite back, the vision already fading. "Yours just happens to be so strong." You snatch the glass and take a sip, swishing the bitter alcohol around your tongue before you swallow.

"What did you see?" he asks.

"You being a fucking idiot."

"Jesus!" he shouts, slamming his hands on the table. "Don't I have enough going on already? Cut me a fucking break."

With a sigh you apologize. "You're right. I'm sorry... Are you doing okay?"

Diego shrugs, looking down at the glass. There's a moment of silence where you wonder if perhaps you should leave him alone and stop trying to look for answers when he clearly didn't want to talk about any of this, but he sighs, straightening up before taking your drink from your hand and nursing it in his own. His fingers had brushed against your knuckles, his skin rough, calloused and warm. He looks at the Cherry Sour, swirling it in the cup almost as if he's contemplating whether or not to heed your cryptic warning.

"No." he mumbles before bringing it to his lips.

That future with Lila dead on the stairs doesn't reappear so you don't snatch it back. He needed the drink more than you right now, anyways. "No?" you press for more.

"No. I'm not okay. I-I," he swallows his stutter, clenching his jaw before exhaling loudly. "Part of me wanted this to happen, you know? I can't be a fucking dad, just look at me." He motions to himself with his hand. "I'm not exactly cut out for it."

"That's not true." you say quietly. "I think you're a great dad."

Diego scoffs, sipping at the drink. "No I'm not."

You reach for his free hand, taking it in yours and making him look at you. "Lila might have lied about Stan, but Diego, you stepped up. You treated that kid like he was your own flesh and blood. Everyone else saw it. You were a good father and when we solve this whole Kugelblitz disaster you're going to have another chance to show that to yourself." You squeeze his hand, running your thumb across his knuckles. "You don't have to be so scared that you're going to turn out like dad. He didn't care about us... not like you cared about Stan."

You smile at Diego, once again squeezing his hand.

He looked like he was seconds away from crying, but he finishes the drink, blinking away all emotional distress from his face. "Thanks..." he says so quietly that you almost miss it. "I didn't think I needed to hear that."

You shrug, finally letting go of him. "You don't have to thank me."

Besides you, Diego sets the empty glass down and once again runs his hand through his hair. "I," he pauses, meeting your eyes. "I was so happy- having a kid, being with Lila... It was like all this time I was missing something I didn't know I wanted so badly. But she ripped it away from me and I don't know if I'm angry or relieved or-." he groans, shaking his head. "I think I probably would have done something stupid if you hadn't been here."

You smile at him, trying to lighten the mood "You still have time. Don't let me stop you from achieving all that you can."

His laugh is light as he shakes his head. "I think I'm good for now but thanks for the vote of confidence."

You try not to focus on the warmth that spreads through you at the sound of his laugh, your smile growing a bit. "Are you doing better?"

He lifts his shoulders, dropping them dramatically. "I'll be fine." He seems to have caught you looking at the glass in front of him that he played with, slowly running his index finger across the rim. Stopping and pulling his hand away, he makes a noise that has you looking back at his face. "You don't gotta worry. I'm not drinking anymore."

"You sure?"

"Look, whatever you saw definitely scared the shit out of you. I'll listen to you this time." As if to prove a point, he waved over the bartender and asked to close out your tab. "Anyways, I don't think alcohol is going to do anything to help."

You watch as he pulls out his wallet and nod. "Thanks, Diego."

"Whatever. It's not that expensive."

You roll your eyes, deciding not to tell him that you were thanking him for listening and preventing a horrible future from becoming a reality. "If you're all finished with me, I'm going to go find Five then. See what new idea he's come up with."

As you begin to stand up, you feel Diego's hand close around your wrist, holding you still. "Wait," he says as you freeze and look at his face. His brows are knitted together, something in his brown eyes that you can't exactly read.

"Wait?" you repeat, hoping to get more out of him.

"I won't drink... but can you stay with me? Just a little longer?" Diego's voice is unnaturally gentle, sad. "We don't have to stay in the bar. I just..." He doesn't finish.

But you don't need him to, you could see the fear in his eyes. The loneliness. He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, with his emotions. You wondered if he knew that the hand that held you was trembling.

Five could wait, you decided, smiling lightly at Diego. "Want to go up to the roof?"

Diego hadn't meant to sound so pathetic when he asked you to stay with him. But he did, and it aggravated him even more. He should have been relieved when Lila had told him the truth. He didn't want a damn kid, he never had and swore that he never would. So why was it that he felt so empty? The bond that he swore had been there between Stanley and him gone, a fragment of his imagination.

He had trusted Lila, even though from the first time they had met she had done nothing but lie to him. Of course she would have lied about this, he should have been smart enough to know that this was another one of her stupid games.

He lets go of your hand, wishing that he had finished that drink before the bartender had taken it away. Sure it tasted like shit, all watered down from the ice, but it was the easiest way to stop thinking. But he promised you that he was done, he wasn't about to go back on that.

"Come on," you say, keeping him grounded here, in the real world, instead of in his thoughts were no matter how hard he tried to stop, things just kept circling back to Lila and Stanley.

Diego stands and follows you to the elevator, where you're both quiet. Part of him wants to tell you that he's changed his mind, that he wants to be alone. But that part is a liar. He doesn't want you to leave. To leave him alone. He doesn't want you to be another person that leaves him.

"You do that a lot, why?" you ask, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

"Do what?" he asks, confused.

"The whole-" you lift your hand and run it through your hair, pushing it away from your face. "Running your hand through your hair thing."

He hadn't realize that he did that so often that it was noticeable. "It's a bad habit." he does it again, this time to make sure that his hair wasn't a mess. He didn't want to look like shit just because he was feeling it. "I don't really know why I do it."

"It's not good to mess with your hair like that. You're going to end up bald."

For a second, he panics, wondering if perhaps you had another of your visions. "Is that like a sure thing? Did you see it in the future?" He didn't want to be bald. He had shaved his head for the police academy and it did not look good at all.

There's a single pause where you look at him like you were going to tell him something bad but then you laugh, shaking your head. "You should see your face!" you curl into yourself, and he frowns, relieved but annoyed. "I didn't see anything, I was just messing with you."

He scoffs, but you only laugh harder and he finds that he can't stay mad. Not when its so contagious and he finds his lips curling upwards a bit. "Funny." he says sarcastically, pushing himself from the wall the moment the elevator slows to a stop on the last floor.

"You're not mad, are you?" you ask from behind him following him as he walks to the emergency staircase and pushes the door open.

"No. Come on, before the alarm goes off." he grabs you by upper arm and pulls you into the stairway, following you and pulling the door close behind him. He finds himself stuck between the door and you, his fingers still wrapped around your bicep, your face near his.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or the anger that still refuses to leave him, but for a split second he sees Lila in your place and all the progress he has done disappears down the drain. He lets go of you, bringing his hands to his head and running them down the shaved sides.

"Diego?" You speak his name so softly that he chuckles humorlessly. He wasn't used to soft. To the gentleness that you were offering him. He knew biting words and screaming fights that went unresolved until it got too heavy to bear and instead of fixing the issue, he left. Or they left.

"Can I ask you for a favor, Eight?" He opens his eyes, finding yours looking at him with worry. The handle of the door was biting into his lower back painfully but he didn't have the strength to move. To care, honestly. "Can you check and see what the future is like?"

Does he give Lila another chance only for it to bite him in the ass? Does he have kids of his own? Is he kind to them? Do they like him? Or is he a spitting image of Reginald Hargreeves, treating his children like commodities instead of people?

Your eyes soften, and he doesn't like how sad you suddenly look, your brows pushed together as the corner of your mouth twitches. He knows what you're going to say. That you couldn't do that. That the future was too finicky for you to get straight answers.

"Nothing good comes from chasing the future, Diego. Trust me."

"Please." he presses, even though he knows that you're right. "At least tell me there's going to be a day when I don't hurt so badly anymore." his voice cracks at the end, and he has to look away from you to keep from crying, his eyes trailing the textured off white ceiling.

He feels you wrap your arms around him, and instinctually he wants to push you away, stiffening as you hold him. Diego wants to yell and shout and tell you to get the fuck off him, but you squeeze him, arms around his in an awkward embrace, and his anger shatters. His breath comes out shaky, his vision blurs and his arms lift and push yours out of the way so that he could hug you back.

His tears fall silently as you hold him, his face finding the hollow of your neck as he pulls you closer to him. He doesn't say a word, holding you tightly as he lets himself cry. You stroke his back, the same way Grace used to do for him and he breaks again, his inhale loud and broken against your skin.

"It's okay, Diego." you whisper so close to his ear. "You're okay."

You don't seem to care that he's trembling, that your skin is wet with his tears, that he's dug his nails into your shirt so hard that he's afraid that he's ripped the fabric and broken your skin. You just hold him, soothing his back.

Did you know this was going to happen? Had you seen it already? Is that why you knew what to do, what to say? He wants to ask you but he can't find the will to come down, let alone his voice. He pulls you closer, his hand finding your lower back.

"It's okay," you repeat, your hand sliding from between his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck.

The pain inside of him, the one that he had been trying to deny existed from the moment Lila had told him the truth grows and grows until its all that he can feel, his knees bucking underneath him.

For a moment, even with the threat of doom hanging over his head, he had been happy. He had a son, a woman who loved him, a family he could take care of and protect and show that he was just as deserving as anyone else. Only for it all to be taken away from him.

You don't say anything as his breathing begins to even out and he finds that he can't cry anymore. He's thankful for that, partially horrified at not only having broken down so intensely but in front of you, no less. If you opened your mouth and said something he was worried that in his shame he'd snap and bite at you like a feral dog.

He loosens his hold on you, shifting his head so that his forehead rests against your shoulder, the familiar ache of a headache forming behind his eyes. You're still rubbing soothing circles on his neck, one hand planted firmly on his back. He doesn't want to pull back. Doesn't want to see the inevitable pity he's bound to find in your eyes.

He's nothing short of pathetic right now. But maybe he's always been pathetic. Look at him, crying over a something as mediocre as a lie.

"Sorry," he says against the tissue of your shirt. "Just..." he wants to warn you about what would happen if you tell another soul but he doesn't have the strength. "Just give me a moment."

Your fingers are light as they run along the length of his neck, your head brushing against his as you nod. "Let's sit down." you suggest quietly and pull away from him. At first he doesn't want you to move, his arms holding you still until he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, willing himself to let you go. His arms slowly move from around you and fall limp at his sides as he straightens up,.

He lets you lead him towards the stairs, sitting beside you when you pat the space. He can't look at your face, worried that he'll find something there he wont like. Instead he keeps his eyes on his hands, his shoes, the concrete of the stairs.

"I'm sorry." he repeats into the silence that's spread between them. Now that he has a clear mind, he's suddenly repulsed by his actions. Clinging and crying on you like that was embarrassing to say the least.

When your hand finds his, your fingers intertwining with his own before you pull it towards your lap, he almost pulls away reflexively. But you hold on tight and he doesn't have the strength to fight. "How are you feeling?" you ask, ignoring his apology and he's thankful for that.

"Like I've been split in half." he says honestly, his eyes moving from the stair to your intertwined hands. It felt nice, having you hold him, the warmth of your skin seeping into his. "It's a shit feeling."

You squeeze his hand. "Yeah," you whisper. "I know."

For a moment, the silence returns and it's not heavy and choking for once. It's pleasant, welcomed after everything. Diego doesn't find himself slipping into his thoughts in it, instead he focuses on the barely there sound of your breathing. His own slowly beginning to match yours.

Sitting here next to you, he felt as if the world around him began to crumble and end, he wouldn't have felt a single thing but relief, glad that it was you he spent his last moment's with.

Diego turns and looks at you and maybe its due to all his emotions running wild inside of him, or the fact that for some reason the world always looked clearer after crying, but he feels like he's looking at you for the very first time. His eyes linger on the curve of your nose, the slight downward curl your lips took on when you thought about something. He trails the curve of your neck, your collar still damp with his tears. He could still feel the warmth you had radiated there. Could still smell the almost floral, clean smell that perfumed your skin, that had filled his lungs.

You had your eyes closed, head tilted against the metal railing but he knew that you weren't asleep. Were you here with him in this very moment? Or had you slipped into the future once more, living something that he hadn't yet? He squeezes your hand, pulling it towards him and you blink and open your eyes, turning to look at him with that hazy look that came from being in two places at once.

"What did you see?" he asks, voice low. He wondered if what he wanted to do and what you saw were the same thing, or had the future already changed for you? For him?

"I..." you trail off as he leans in, his fingers softly tracing the curve of your cheek until he's cupping your face. He shifts his body towards you, the space between you both closing. He glances down at your lips and he felt himself lick his own.

He watches as you close your eyes and lean into his touch and that's all it takes for him to break what little distance there is between his mouth and yours, kissing you.

At first, its soft and gentle and he plans on pulling away but you let out a small whimper, lips parting just the slightest and he groans and deepens it, fingers digging into your scalp.

His lips guide yours, the kiss harsh as he buries himself in the sensation, in the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips. He can taste the salt of his tears in the kiss and it mingles with the sweetness of your mouth, his tongue tracing the length of your lower lip before it slipped inside of your mouth.

Your response is immediate, your lips parting to welcome him, inviting him into the depths of your being. His heart races at the intimacy of the gesture, at the way you respond to him with such fervor. It's a heady sensation, the feeling of being wanted and needed so desperately.

His hand wanders down the curve of your neck, over your shoulder, down your arm. He wants to feel you, to sink into you and forget the world around him. He finds himself tugging at the hem of your shirt, swallowing your moan.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, opening his eyes to find you flushed and panting, your lips dark and swollen. "Come here," he says, his voice guttural as he pats his lap, his cock swollen underneath his hand. He wanted you on top of him as he explored every inch of your body.

"Diego," the sound of your voice, choking around his name has his cock lurching in his jeans. "I can't." you say and suddenly he's brought back down to reality, the fog that had clouded his mind beginning to clear.

Maybe he should be disgusted with his actions, throwing himself at you because in his mind he'd twisted his sadness into arousal. But instead of feeling any sort or remorse or need to apologize, frustration bubbled up in his throat until he said the only thing that he could. "Why?" What was stopping you?

The question seemed to catch you off guard and you frown and open your mouth but struggle to find the words so Diego decides to help, moving until he's kneeling between your legs, his lips once more on yours. This time, the kiss is a plea, sweet and slow and eager.

He wants you, his lips trailing down to your neck and back up to your jaw, hungry and desperate for an answer. "Tell me." he groans against your skin, pulling you closer to him by your hips. Every touch he placed upon your skin made you shiver, he could feel it. You wanted this as much as he did so why were you so keen on pushing him away.

He nips at your neck and you let out a whine, squeezing him with your thighs.

"This means something different to me." you finally say, so quiet that he almost misses it, his mind focused on the taste of your skin. He pulls back slightly, looking at you through hooded eyes. You looked so torn, as if you were enjoying his ministrations while at the same time telling yourself that this wasn't right.

He feels his heart sink at the same time that his cock twitches and begs for you. He knew what you meant. He could see it in your eyes, could feel it under your skin, conflict raging hot under his touch. He knew that he had to stop, that he needed to stand up and leave but he didn't want to. You were so sweet, so kind, so soft.

Unlike Lila, unlike anything he had ever experienced. Where Lila bit and scratched until he was full of wounds and pain and anger, you soothed and kissed and filled him with an intoxication that he wanted to drown in. He brings your hand to his mouth, turning it until he's kissing your wrist, your heart beating against his lips. "Then show me, Eight." he begs, his voice a desperate plea. "Show me what it means to you."

It was selfish and wrong and maybe after it was all over, he'd come to regret it. But right now he wanted you. Wanted to sink into you, into your warmth. He needed to feel wanted. To feel anything but the anguish that had settled in his bones. He wanted to forget and you offered him the perfect opportunity to do so. "Please."

You kiss him and he stops thinking. Your lips are on his, your hands pushing his arms out of the way, struggling with the buttons on his shirt. Your breath comes out ragged against his lips as he helps you undo his holster, letting it drop to the ground as your mouth finds his neck. Your tongue is hot against his flesh, your teeth grazing the skin there before you lift your head and kiss him again.

You were so gentle even though he didn't deserve it.

His shirt falls to the ground, your hand tracing his chest, the scars that litter his body. It rests against his abdomen, slowly inching lower and lower until you're squeezing his cock through his jeans and he lets out a low moan.

Diego lets you tease him, tossing his head back as you stroke and squeeze him, your mouth on his Adam's apple. He groans, whispers your name and you undo his belt, his button, his zipper. He feels your hand slip inside his boxers, flesh against flesh, your thumb against the tip of his cock, wet with precum. You drag it down his length and he shivers, sinking his fingers into your waist when you close your fingers around the base and slowly begin to stroke him.

He wishes he had taken you to a room. He wanted to lay you down and taste your cunt. He wanted you to cum on his tongue, your hands in his hair, his name on your lips.

You twist your fist around the head of his cock and his thoughts shatter, his mouth once more on your neck, kissing and panting, laving at the skin there with his tongue.

"On top," he growls, pushing your hand from his cock and picking you up so that he can switch positions with you. He moves until he's the one sitting on a step and you're straddling his hips, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"You're so beautiful," he groans lifting his hips until his cock connects with your cunt, the fabric of your pants soft as he helps you roll your hips against him. You whimper and he wastes no time in kissing you, tasting your desire.

You moan his name against his lips and warmth pools in his belly, filling his veins. "Lean back, " he tells you and you obediently do as told.

He wanted to devour you whole, but settles on quickly pulling your shirt off of you, tossing it towards the door. His lips find your collarbone and he kisses and nips at the skin there, his cock running along the length of your clothed cunt.

His lips trail lower and lower, one arm keeping you from falling, the other one finds the clasp of your bra. Easily he undoes it and it joins your shirt on the floor.

His mouth is on your nipple, suckling and licking it until its hard and you're moaning his name, pulling him closer. Gently he bites down on it, the salty taste of your sweat making him groan and reach for his cock.

"Diego!" you shout, voice reverberating in the empty staircase. He's switched to your other nipple, stroking himself in tandem to your moans.

"Get up," he struggles to talk, letting your nipple slip from his mouth. "I want my cock in you."

You blink a few times, letting him help you to your feet, his hands wasting no time in pulling them down alongside your underwear. Sitting down, he's almost face level with your cunt and he's tempted to have you put a leg on his shoulder so he could taste you, his fingers stroking the neat patch of hair between your legs. He tells himself that next time, he will.

"Come here," he whispers, leaning back. He wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and holds it towards you. "Come ride me, baby girl." He squeezes, a drop of precum welling at the tip before it rolls down the underside of his cock, gathering between his fingers.

You place your hands on his shoulder, slowly kneeling on the step as you toss your other leg over his hips. You're flushed, panting, brows knitted together and before you can straddle him fully, his hand is on your face, holding your cheek.

He knows that its unfair to you. That this would hurt you more than him, but for once in a very long time, Diego felt at peace. The repercussions didn't matter. Not right now, at least.

He leans into you and kisses you. His lips soft, tender. This kiss is slower that the others, careful. He pulls back and looks at you, you're face twisted as if you were on the edge of crying.

"I love you," you finally admit out loud and his heart breaks and forms back together all at once, inhaling sharply from the pain. Your voice trembles as you reach for his cock and hold it against your cunt, slowly easing down on it. "I love you, Diego." you repeat, milking him as you take the first inch. His mouth falls slack, groaning from deep in his chest at the feeling of you around him, his eyes still on yours. He can't look away. He has to look. Has to remember everything about this moment.

You're hot and wet and so, so fucking tight around his cock, your walls clenching and unclenching as you take another inch, gasping for a breath.

"I love you." you keep saying, digging the knife deeper into his chest.

"I know." he finally answers, leaning his head on your shoulder as you bottom out, the tip of his cock tightly nuzzled in your cunt. It feels like heaven, like the last two pieces in a puzzle. His fingers dance along your curved spine, making you shiver and squeeze him even harder.

He wishes he could say it back, rocking his hips as he moves inside of you, pulling out and pushing back in. He wishes that it had been you, not Lila that he had fallen in love with as you wrap your arms around him and gasp as he keeps a steady, languid rhythm.

Diego kisses your shoulder as you match his pace with your hips, nails sinking into his back. He wishes that time would stop and it'd be you and him, trapped here forever.

"Perdoname," he whispers against your skin, pushing his cock deeper into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. He repeats his apology, picking up his pace and trailing kisses up your neck.

"I love you," you cry out, gently pushing him away as you bounce your hips, matching his pace. You take his hand and place it over your heart, riding him as he slows and feels how hard it beats under his palm. "I've always loved you, Diego. My heart has always been yours." you're breathless as you talk, taking every inch of him.

"I wish things were different," he whispers, voice barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths. And part of him truly, honestly wishes that it was.

He can almost feel your heart breaking, digging his fingers into your hips and holding you still as he begins to fuck you desperately, your name falling from his lips as you grow tighter, wetter.

Did you see this moment coming? Or in your eyes had the future been different? Was there a world out there, where he did not break your heart? Diego looks into your eyes, finds the pain and anguish there that he had selfishly caused and he cups your face in his hands. "En otra vida," he speaks quietly, too scared to say it in english. "Yo te prometo que soy tuyo."

You let out a muddled whimper, your rocking growing frantic as you get closer to your orgasm, tears welling in your eyes. "Do you promise?" you choke out and Diego nods, kissing you.

His lips ask you for forgiveness for hurting you just because he was hurting. They move in tandem with yours, sweet and painful at the same time, the pressure in his cock growing and growing as you bounce harder and harder, squeezing him until he lets out a growl and bites down on your lip.

You come first. His mouth is still on yours, the kiss turning into something sloppy and dirty as you moan his name and unravel on top of him, pussy tightening around his cock with such strength that for a moment he doesn't hear or see anything, the world around him turning into a white haze.

When his senses come back, you're chanting his name, twitching and rocking against him, coming down from your high.

"One more," he pleads, smoothing your hair away from your face. "Come around my cock one more time."

Maybe you're just as desperate as he is to make this moment last because you nod lazily and he smiles at you, the pressure at the base of his cock growing and growing as he begins to piston into you, lifting himself from the step. One hand caresses your head, the other one sinks into the flesh of your ass, holding you against him as he cums inside of you at the same time you clench down on him harder, mouth seeking his.

He knows that he's broken your heart. That even though you're panting and holding onto him, he's lost you forever. You lean against him, spent and broken, pussy still milking him for all he's got.

He kisses the side of your head gently, in no rush to move, to have this come to an end. Reality waited for him, for you at the edge of the staircase but he just wanted a second more.

He caresses your back, kissing your temple, your forehead, your shoulder. Where he found skin, he kissed. Silent apologies for what he's done to you, for what he could not offer. His fingers retrace the length of your spine, up and down, over and over again. You've laid your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath and he doesn't mind. Finds the way your chest rises and falls against him to be soothing.

He doesn't know how long both of you stayed there before he slides out of you with a groan, breaking the spell. You sit up, and already he misses your warmth, growing cold as he helps you to your feet, helps you gather your clothes and once more slip into them.

He makes you turn around to clasp your bra together, kissing your shoulder blade. He smooths down your hair when you pull your shirt on, kissing your forehead for the last time when you're both dressed and decent, the smell of sex clinging to you, to him, to the staircase.

He hopes that you find a future where you forget all about him. Where you find someone worthy of your kind heart, of your soft words, of your gentle nature.

"I'm sorry," he repeats for what seems like the hundredth time, taking your hand and kissing your fingertips. This apology is for using you, for taking advantage of the love in your heart. Whatever he had done in the past to make you fall in love with him, he's sorry.

You nod, pulling your hand away from his. "I know." you say gently, quietly, sadly. You don't look at him, and he doesn't reach for you.

Guilt settles into his heart, heavy and bothersome as he pushes open the door and leaves you alone in the staircase.

AN: Thank you for reading! Here are the translations of all the Spanish words:

Perdoname- forgive me

En otra vida- In another life

Yo te prometo que soy tuyo- I promise you that I am yours.

#tua diego #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #the umbrella academy

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