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#watching this play out in real time this past week has been...something
matan4il · 1 day
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On Friday, during Passover, a terrorist attack took place in Israel. The terrorist attacked an 18 years old girl on the streets of Ramla, stabbed her in the back, leaving her seriously wounded, as he ran away. The girl was in the city visiting a friend, whose father and brother heard the girl's screams and chased the terrorist. The dad, a civilian with a personal weapon, neutralized the attacker. The girl's state has since improved, but she's still hospitalized.
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There is footage of the terrorist chasing the young girl down the street, stabbing her in the back without even stopping, causing her to collapse to the ground, as he continues, and flees the scene.
The anti-Israel protests on college campuses in the west are horrifying to watch. They were bad enough when they started on Oct 8, while Israel wasn't even counting its dead yet, because we were still fighting terrorists invading our country and endangering our civilians, so Israel's army was still not free to do anything in Gaza, but these protests have somehow gotten so much worse. They've become more openly antisemitic (we've seen more and more people doing the Nazi salute, and using signs calling for a "final solution," the whitewashed Nazi term for their intended annihilation of all Jews):
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They are now more openly calling for blood (in the past week or so, we've seen no calls for a ceasefire, instead we've heard chants to kill Zionists, to burn Tel Aviv, for Iran to fire rockets at Israel, meaning at its civilian population, and to globalize the intifada, a wave of anti-Israel terrorist attacks. During the second intifada alone, over 1,200 people in Israel were murdered). They've also become more physically violent, with more and more Jewish and pro-Israel people being assaulted, and even requiring medical care:
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I've been seeing so much, and it's being talked about on the news here more than you can imagine. The presidents of Israeli universities even did something unprecedented, that they've never done during any of Israel's former conflicts, no matter how bad those got. After publishing repeated calls for foreign universities to fight antisemitism and protect their Jewish students, the presidents of Israeli universities have now published an open letter, lamenting that the problem might be beyond the capacity of university presidents abroad to solve, and addressing Jewish students, stating they have a safe space here, offering them any assistance with pursuing it.
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The worst protests are in the US, at Ivy League universities of all places, but I've heard horrifying things about universities in Canada, France, Australia as well... I feel like I can't really do this subject justice in just one post, so if I only share with you one last thing about it, this following vid would be it, because it's bigger than just the protests, and at the same time, partly explains how so many people have been recruited into them. It's a typical example of how in this complex conflict, real facts (such as vids filmed on the ground) are often taken out of context and manipulated to present a simplistic narrative, in which Zionists (i.e the overwhelming majority of Jews) are presented as intrinsically violent and evil, while ignoring and even lying about the anti-Jewish violence at play:
Jews and Jewish allies abroad, please take care of yourselves! And don't let all the hate get to you... Just because there's a lot of them, doesn't mean they're right. Or even that they're the majority. They just give that impression by being more vocal than anyone else, and taking over public spaces, pushing everyone else out.
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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alteredphoenix · 1 year
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You know, for all the drama the W*W community gets itself embroiled in, I’m glad - in a way - the only controversy I caused was pissing off the Sylv*ina community and bringing their wrath down on my head by making that crit - not hate - post and bringing up the succession crisis regardless of how in good faith asking that question was. Was I sort of happy about the response? Kind of, but really I was bummed out - and blindsided - by the reaction it caused; I never intended to anger and shock that many people (I still remember a comment someone made in another person’s post that, last I checked, got 100+ notes on “hey, look at this person writing up several paragraphs’ worth of a ship she doesn’t care about“ and another that read “it’s like stopping to look into the window of a restaurant you’re passing on the street and deciding on the spot you hate the food that’s inside” - and this isn’t a call-out or meant to rag on that person, it’s just something that stuck with me).
I still feel bad about making that post to this day; it’s long since been deleted (although you’ll certainly find my response on that other person’s post if you look back far enough) but with the knowledge I have now I would not have made it. I even considered writing a Sylv*ina fic as a sort of olive branch to the community for angering them so viscerally. But then I remembered thinking to myself I’d probably get bullied for trying to make amends or shit on even more and decided it wasn’t worth the hassle; if there was any ragging about it on Twitter as there was here on Tumblr, I’d understand, I deserved that. I can think of a couple certain big-name WLW writers that like that ship that certainly wouldn’t be too happy seeing my name plastered with that ship tag; I’m not always nice to the girls I write about let alone always talk nicely about them. And, you know, that’s fair.
Honestly that was the first instance where I sat back and thought ‘you know, maybe I oughta step away from the fandom’ because the whole point about shipping is having fun with stuff that doesn’t even make sense, and who’s going to want to have someone around that doesn’t like 99% of W*W’s ships? But the W*W fandom has always been volatile, and a lot of other things non-ship related happened that finally got me to back off from it, but. Yeah. I still think about this now and again. And I think it’s for the best to just keep my distance and do my own thing (and I know I’ve said this a lot in the past, but it’s true).
Not going to tag this for obvious reasons, but mainly because I have a certain streamer friend that’s notable in the community who is going through a very rough patch (if you know you know, but I’ll leave it at that) and it got me thinking about the aforementioned bit the past couple of days. That’s all.
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obscure-imagines · 7 months
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wet dreams - Zoro
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🍃staring. Zoro Roronoa x afab!Reader
⚔️ preview. The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, wet dreams, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, praise, exhibitionism (sex outside in the Crowsnest), cum play/swallowing, fingering, mutual masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick zoro, fingering, overstim, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.
🔫 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 3.7k
⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, pwp, acquaintances to lovers, etc…
🍀 mlist + an. I showed Sanji and Mihawk some love so I figured I might as well adore my big three and make it a full set with Zoro.
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Zoro is exhausted. His body feels heavy as he lumbers around the ship, his footfalls a little too loud on the wooden deck. His eyes are practically shutting on their own, but he resists the need to nap.
He's been having problems lately... when he sleeps.
While he's able to keep himself mostly in check around you during his waking hours, his mind - and body - have been betraying him in dreamland.
He's woken up five nights this week with the soft sounds of your moans etched into his memory and his pants ruined with the sticky truth about his feelings for you.
Naps had once been a time of rest, but Zoro has been anything but restful since Luffy convinced you to join the crew two weeks ago.
Zoro hates feeling like he's not in control. He hates the way you seem so real in his mind's eye, only for him to wake up and watch you acting completely indifferently toward him- as if he didn't just watch you go down on his cock in explicit detail- as if he didn't just try to fuck you so hard you couldn't even walk-
Being around you is something like torture. His tongue gets tied, his heart races, and he's unable to hold a conversation with you about anything unrelated to piracy... and even then, he stumbles over his words and gets frustrated with himself.
You're just too beautiful.
The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.
He does his best to be the last to go to bed, out of fear that someone will walk in while he's sleeping and hear his problem, hell, he wouldn't be shocked if they could even see it.
It's not even midday and Zoro feels like death. It doesn't help that it's hot out. The wind feels practically nonexistent. Everything is stale, sweaty, and full of tension. Even Sanji, who usually dresses in formalwear, has stripped himself of his button-up, opting for an undershirt instead.
Then there's you. Your shorts don't leave much to the imagination, and Zoro has to tear his gaze off of you every time you get within his line of sight. His cock is practically throbbing in his pants anytime you're nearby- anytime your soft scent lingers in the air when you walk past.
"You look like shit."
Zoro sighs at Sanji's words, refusing to look at the chef who's come to lean on the rail next to him, staring out at the sea.
"I mean it. And I'm not trying to be a dick, but seriously moss head, you look like you need some rest," Sanji presses on. "When was the last time you had one of your famous Roronoa naps?"
"I wasn't aware they were famous," Zoro sighs, this conversation is making him even more tired.
"We all know you get a little scratchy without your beauty sleep," Sanji smirks. "Go on, get some rest. It's a shit day, and it will be even more shit if you're in a bad mood. I'll wake you up for dinner."
Usually, Zoro wouldn't do anything Sanji suggests, he wouldn't even entertain it- but the idea of a nap is having a visceral effect on him. He's reminded of the exhaustion that's overtaken him, and the harsh sun is only making things worse.
Zoro lets out a deep breath. "I guess I could use a little shut-eye."
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You let out a loud whimper as Zoro drags his tongue across your neck, holding you close on the deck of the ship. Above, the stars are twinkling, but to the swordsman, all that matters is you. He can hardly see anything else, his mind completely blank except for the feeling of your hand stroking his cock.
"I need more," you tell him, applying just the right amount of pressure.
He's tried dissuading you from sucking his cock, but you're absolutely insatiable for him. Stroking isn't enough, and the promise of filling you up all nice and snug doesn't satisfy you either- no, you want him in your mouth, and you're very verbal about it.
Who is Zoro to deny you?
With a sigh, he agrees, and you sink to your knees immediately.
God, you look beautiful like this.
Your thumb strokes the head of his cock, rubbing through precum as you bring your mouth closer.
You're always a bit of a tease, licking at him gently, pumping his shaft. Zoro can't help but release a small groan, eyes fixed on you, waiting.
When you finally take him into your mouth, Zoro moans, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling.
"That's it, angel," he tells you, reaching down to grab at your head, helping you find a rhythm. "Just like that."
You take him so deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat much too easily. The feeling of you choking around him has Zoro's abdomen clenching, and a familiar sensation is growing in his balls-
It's as if you can read his mind, your hand snaking up to massage his most sensitive area while you continue practically gagging yourself on his cock.
The sound is absolutely obscene, and Zoro's never heard anything so pretty.
"If you keep sucking like that, I'm going to cum," he warns you, wanting to hold out to finish in your perfect, needy little cunt-
The way you suck on him even harder makes Zoro think you want him to cum. You want him to release down your throat, want to swallow him up like the good girl you are.
Again, who is Zoro to deny you?
"Fuck, angel," he groans, orgasm rising even faster. "You're always so good for me."
You whimper loudly around his cock, stroking your tongue along the vein that runs the underside of his length while squeezing his balls, and that's all it takes for him to cum.
He lets out a grunt as he shoots his load down your awaiting throat, his brows knitted together in concentration and something close to overstimulation. He whispers your name, over and over like a mantra while you suck him dry, eager for every single drop he can give- you're his greedy little angel, and he loves you with every fiber of his being.
You pull off of him when he's done, staring up at him with eyes that reflect the stars above. Then, you stick out your tongue, proving to him that you'd swallowed all he had to give.
Zoro can't help but reach for you, lifting you back onto your feet so he can grab your face and press his lips against yours eagerly.
He treasures the moments you're in his arms, and there's something so satisfying about the salty taste on your tongue-
"Dinner!"
Zoro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his hammock. His heart is thundering in his chest, and when his eyes quickly dart to the door, he sees that Sanji hadn't bothered to enter, only called out a word of warning.
Swallowing thickly, Zoro looks down at his pants. He can feel his cum, hot and sticky against his skin, his half-chubbed length angrily confined by pants.
Zoro's not sure who's more upset about being woken up from his dream, himself, or his cock.
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Luffy has already gone through half the food by the time Zoro saunters into the dining area. The swordsman's eyes are downcast while he takes a seat next to the captain, and you're kind of glad for that- you want to watch him, but you doubt you'd be able to make eye contact with him right now.
Your skin tingles with the forbidden knowledge that you now have. Your mind keeps replaying the scene you'd walked in on not half an hour ago; Zoro, asleep, his brows knitted together, your name on his lips.
You hadn't stayed long upon finding him in that state, your skin too hot with the realization of what you'd just witnessed, and now, that fevered sensation returns.
You've always had a bit of a crush on Zoro, but you'd never in your wildest dreams imagined that it could be returned. Out of everyone on the ship, Zoro interacts with you the least. He practically avoids you, and you've just spent two weeks thinking he doesn't even like you-
No, this changes everything.
The man with green hair lifts his gaze, and your eyes meet momentarily, only for you to look away, skin flaring again. Your heart is practically beating out of your ribcage, and you can feel your panties sticking uncomfortably to your core.
You'll have to do something about this. You're not sure what- but... you definitely can't go much longer with this kind of unresolved tension. One dinner with a dripping pussy is enough.
You decide you'll have to confront Zoro, and something tells you that you'll thank God for doing so.
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Once everyone is asleep, you slowly tiptoe out of the sleeping quarters. Zoro has been staying up late, keeping watch in the Crowsnest, and you feel like that's a perfect place to talk with him. There's no way he can escape... unless he jumps into the ocean and risks his life- but you don't think it will come to that... or at least, you hope it doesn't.
Carefully climbing the ladder, you think of all the things you can say to him. You're not sure where to even begin, and as you make it to the top, poking your head through the manhole to stare at Zoro's broad shoulders, all the words you'd planned slip your mind.
He hasn't noticed you yet, and it takes closing the ladder cover for him to finally hear you, whipping around with his hand reaching for one of his blades.
Zoro freezes. You both do.
Then his hand drops to his side. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought..." you bite at your lip, "I thought you might want some company."
He gives you a quick once over, then turns to look out at the sea again. "I'm good."
"Why do you act like you hate me so much?" you sigh, ignoring his dismissal and moving to join him.
"I don't act like I hate you."
"You hardly talk to me."
"I'm not a big talker."
You let out another exasperated sigh. There's some truth in what he's just said. "Then I'll talk."
"Go ahead."
Staring out at the sea, you're once again at a loss for what to say. After a few moments of silence, you decide to just... put it all on the table. "I walked in while you were napping earlier."
Zoro goes rigid next to you.
"What were you dreaming about?"
He's quiet, then he turns to look at you. "Sword fighting."
"I didn't think you'd actually lie to me," you frown.
"Who says I'm lying?"
"I just- I don't think sword fighting would lead to you moaning my name over and over."
Zoro looks out at the sea again. "You must think I'm some kind of pervert."
"Trust me, I don't," you assure him. "I'm kind of curious about what we were doing in your dream."
He sneaks a glance at you, and there's a hint of a smile that curls onto his pretty lips. "Yeah?"
You nod. "Maybe... maybe I've been having 'sword fighting' dreams too. We could... compare notes, or something."
Zoro lets out a laugh, shaking his head. The chuckle dies down into a groan. "Fuck." He grips the railing tighter, taking a deep breath. "You really wanna know what we were doing in my dream?"
"Yes, please."
The swordsman turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were down on your knees, sucking the fucking soul out of my cock."
If your panties hadn't been ruined at dinner, they're definitely ruined now. "I was?"
"Uh huh. You were begging for it. Begging for every last drop."
Your mouth practically waters at the idea. "And did you give it to me?"
"Of course I did," he says softly, scanning your face. "How could I not?"
"Should we..." Your skin heats at the words about to come out of your mouth, "Can we make that dream real?"
Zoro sucks in a shaky breath. "I think I have a better idea."
"A better idea than me sucking your cock?" You're shocked.
"You're always so good to me in my dreams, maybe I want to be good to you."
Your pussy throbs at the insinuation of what he's saying. Most men would jump at the chance to have your mouth around them, but it looks like tonight, the swordsman wants to be the one pleasuring you-
He's just like the Zoro from your wet dreams, and you have a suspicion that when it gets down to it, he'll be even better.
You can't help yourself any longer, you practically launch your body at him, throwing your arms around his strong shoulders while his hands catch you. Your lips meet as if it's the most natural thing in the world, a soft groan escaping him when you swipe your tongue across his mouth, already eager for entrance.
The kiss deepens, and his hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush to his chest. It feels absolutely insane to be actually doing this in your waking hours- nothing your mind could conjure up compares to the real Zoro-
You can feel his cock already pressing against your hip and it makes you whine loudly, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup him through his pants. He's as big as you imagined he would be, and your pussy flutters with interest.
"Zoro-" you whimper, already needing more.
You've been waiting too long for this, for him-
He groans. "Say that again."
One of his hands joins yours between your bodies, but his slips under the waistband of your shorts, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties.
"Fuck, angel, you're already soaked-"
"Zoro!" you moan, louder this time.
"Tell me you want my fingers."
"God, I need them," you gasp when he leans in, pressing kisses and tracing his tongue along your throat. "I need you inside of me- any of you, I just- I need you!"
"Good girl," he says smoothly, pushing your panties to the side.
His fingers make contact with your dripping cunt, and he teases your pussy lips, just dipping inside enough to coat his skin before he circles your clit.
You cry out, squeezing his cock harder-
"Enough of that," Zoro practically slaps your hand away from him. "Tonight is about you. Let it be about you."
"Fuck, you're too nice to me-"
"Trust me, you deserve it." His fingers sink into your pussy and you moan loudly, leaning forward to begin peppering his own throat in kisses. You thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he begins pumping his digits in and out of your wet core.
You can already hear yourself- the sick squelching of your pussy as he works you open. His palm rubs against your clit, creating a delightful pressure that has your legs shaking and your toes curling.
"You sound so pretty."
Who knew he'd be such a sweet talker.
In the exhibitionistic privacy of the Crowsnest, with the crew sleeping soundly below, Zoro is showing you his true colors, and you couldn't be happier.
No one has touched you like this in too long- but then again, has anyone ever actually touched you like this?
You can't believe how close you already are to cumming. Your skin tingles and you moan louder against his neck, moving your mouth up to suckle on his earlobe.
Zoro groans, and the sound goes straight to your aching core.
"Close already?"
All you can manage is a nod, your eyes closing as you focus on the pleasure of his fingers pumping into your wet hole. "Please-"
"You can cum for me," he tells you. "I wanna hear it."
You can hardly even stand on your own. If it weren't for his strong form, steady under your grip, you're sure you'd be falling. His free palm is on the small of your back, keeping you snug to his front while his fingers work you closer and closer-
"Zoro," you whimper again, feeling tears in your eyes from how tight the coil in your stomach has grown.
"Be a good girl and let go for me. Come on, I know you can do it."
You let out a strangled half sob as your high slams into you. Your entire body tingles with electric energy as your core clamps onto his fingers, which continue inside of you, working you through your orgasm. You shake against him, digging your nails into his shoulders while you whimper and moan, lips pressed to his throat.
"That's it," he praises you, a steady guide through one of the most intense orgasms of your life.
You nearly black out, only for his fingers to slow inside of you, drawing you back into your body. Zoro removes his hand from your pants, and you listen to him suck his digits clean, letting out a small groan at your taste.
"Can I lay you down?" he asks next, tone gentle.
You nod, unable to speak. Zoro softly helps you onto the wooden floor of the small Crowsnest, staring at you with dark eyes that seem to sparkle in the moonlight.
He slowly undresses you, watching as you lift your hips to help him remove your shorts. Your shirt and bra are next, and he's careful to set them nearby before removing his own clothing.
"You still want to do this?" he asks.
"There's nothing I want more."
Once he's naked, Zoro gets between your thighs, holding himself over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. You grab at his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.
His hard cock is too enticing for you not to touch, and soon, you're gripping it while your tongues battle. His moans are music to your ears, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his length to smear his skin with precum.
"You know-" he swallows thickly. "After today, after watching you cum on my fingers, I might not last that long."
"That's okay, I won't last long either." Your pussy is already aching for him again, and from the way his cock twitches in your hand, you know he's as into this as you are. "Just fuck me Zoro, please."
He kisses you deeply, allowing you to guide him to your wet hole.
He's big, but you're soaked, and slipping into you is much too easy. He sinks all the way in, his hips flush to yours when he bottoms out. You moan into each other's mouths, and you grab his face, wanting to keep his lips on yours as he begins to thrust into you.
"Fuck, Zoro, it's so good-" you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around him to earn another sound of appreciation.
"Angel, you're fucking perfect," he agrees, pace already quickening.
The sound of skin on skin fills the night air. You open your eyes, looking up at the moon and stars. It feels natural to be with him like this, under the watchful eye of the heavens-
Your nails dig into his shoulders when his hand adjusts your thigh on his hip. He drives deeper into your wet hole, and each thrust has your head spinning.
You can feel him everywhere, and it's the first time you've ever really felt full, complete.
"Zoro," you whisper, gaining his attention as you draw his lips back to your own.
You get lost in him. His cock is filling you perfectly, and his lips feel like they were made to be on your own.
That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen builds much too fast, and each thrust has Zoro grunting and moaning even louder-
"Fuck, angel, I'm close-"
"Me too," you assure him, pressing your forehead to his own and staring into his eyes. "You'll cum with me, right?"
He can only nod as you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your sensitive clit-
Your core tightens even more around his thick length and Zoro lets out a deep moan-
"Shit," he mutters, "where should I cum?"
"Inside," you insist. "Cum inside, I'm on birth control, please, I want it, I need it-"
Zoro's hand balls into a fist on the wooden plank by your head, and he groans. "Can't wait-"
"Me neither," you whisper, eyes closing as the feeling ravages your body, "Cumming-"
Zoro buries his face against your throat as you both reach your highs. You can feel him painting your inner walls, making you even more full than you already are with his cock- it's the most delightful feeling.
Your toes curl as he fucks you through it all, his pace even harder than before, if not a bit erratic. The sounds he's making will be something you never forget, and you cling to him like a lifeline, tracing his muscular shoulders and gasping-
It's as if your orgasm lasts ages, and when Zoro's motions finally begin to slow, it's hard to even catch your breath.
He begins to press kisses along your throat again, working his way to your ear, and then your mouth.
You can't help but grin into each soft press of his lips against your own.
"You look happy," he muses.
"That's because I am. Are you happy?"
"Very."
Your smile widens. "So we're done not talking and pretending to be indifferent to each other, right?"
"Completely done."
"Good, because I don't think I could go back to that."
"Me neither," he admits.
"I like you a lot."
Zoro presses another soft kiss to your lips, his pretty eyes twinkling with emotion in a way you've never seen from the swordsman. "I like you too."
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my fics for Sanji and Mihawk :)
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here
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© obscure-imagines — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.
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diordeer · 3 months
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౨ৎ SOMEONE LIKE YOU
“i've been searchin' a long time for someone exactly like you, i’ve been travelin' all around the world waitin' for you to come through” - van morrison (smau)
contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader, where they play in a movie adaptation of ‘better than the movies’ also pls ignore how i spelt ‘preparation’ wrong
description: i cant lie, before i saw this request i hadnt read the book but my friend had and she loved it so i was like ok lets impulse buy it… let me tell u i finished it so quick im OBSESSED
requested by: @taysbeauty
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Liked by iamcharliebushnell, momonatamada and others
yn.ln in the winter in the icy outdoor pool when u jumped in first i went in too!!
tagged iamcharliebushnell
user1 THE DREAM CASTING OMG
user2 “I WANTED WES” 😖😖😖
↳ user3 she gets it
user4 only one more week until this god sent movie comes out 🫡
↳ user5 i think it should be a law to watch every romcom mentioned before watching this in the cinema
↳ yn.ln how can i make this an actual law
iamcharliebushnell im with u even if it makes me blue 🥶🥶
user7 we all know the soundtrack for this movie is gonna HIT
↳ user8 imagine if taylor swift released new years day (taylors version) for it!
↳ user9 i honestly doubt it but i WISH
momonatamada ahhh i cant wait!!
user6 me patiently waiting for the scene when wes reads over livs shoulder ☺️
↳ user11 the tension 😫
user10 i will now never watch a romcom if it doesnt have charlie and yn as the love interests
yn.ln just posted on their story
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Seen by dior.n.goodjohn, sabrinacarpenter and others
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Liked by yn.ln, walker.scobell and others
iamcharliebushnell how you swoon me like no other!
tagged yn.ln
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user1 can we talk ab how charlie probs took that photo of yn 🩷
user2 IS THAT MR FITZ PERVERT
↳ yn.ln no its michael
user3 them captioning their posts with lyrics from liz and wes’ playlist is KILLING ME
user4 guys i just saw the film wtf it was everything i imagined and MORE
↳ user5 any scene with yn and charlie made me physically kick my legs and giggle in the cinema
yn.ln ooomg do iiii 🤭🤭
↳ iamcharliebushnell i wouldnt say swoon
↳ yn.ln yet u did 🤨
user6 can we talk about their on AND off chemistry pls
↳ user7 THEY ARE LITERALLY IRL WES AND LIZ
dior.n.goodjohn charlie in a romcom?!
↳ iamcharliebushnell u got something against that? 😧🤨
↳ dior.n.goodjohn never!!
user8 dream man playing a dream man
walker.scobell finally he plays a good guy 🙄
↳ iamcharliebushnell i betrayed everyone ONE TIME, get over it
user9 the way better than the movies has almost every trope in the books is insane
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yn.ln hold on to the memories, they will hold onto you!!!!!!
tagged iamcharliebushnell
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iamcharliebushnell did u actually just mug me off in the first pic while u look gorgeous in the last one?! absolute bias
↳ yn.ln u look great wdym 😃 plus! i think i got a pretty good photo of u in my last post
↳ iamcharliebushnell mhmm
user1 casually flicking past may jailer?!
↳ yn.ln im posing so cool in the photo, the second charlie took the photo i SCRAMBLED to the till to buy it
↳ iamcharliebushnell can confirm!!
user2 omg their latest interview together i cant 😣🩷
↳ user3 the way charlie looks at yn!!!!!!!
↳ user5 the things i would do for a relationship like theirs
↳ user4 lets be real if anyone played a relationship like liz and wes’ in a movie… you would 100% fall in love
↳ user6 guys they havent even said anything about being together!! and even if they are let them be
↳ user5 OH MY GOD its not that big of a deal get over it user6
kiernanshipka just saw the film, you were incredible!!
↳ yn.ln OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU
taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities
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hotchshands · 3 months
Text
A Pleasant Surprise
masterlist
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Summary: Hotch starts noticing things about you; You've been eating more, gaining a little weight, craving more attention, and sleeping more. He just assumes it's nothing to worry about until he realizes the real reason why you've been changing.
Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x pregnant!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Contains: fluff, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, established relationship, mentions of body insecurity, no use of y/n, hotch's pov
A/N: Hotch's toothy smile gets me every mf time!
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There was something off about you. Hotch had known it for weeks but couldn't put his finger on it. You seemed to be eating more than you typically would; in fact, you gained weight at your last doctor's appointment. Hotch would remember cause you came back from the doctor's office pouting and asking him if you "looked fat." Hotch immediately ran to your side to comfort you, telling you how beautiful you are. Five pounds heavier or not, you will always be beautiful to him. After that, Hotch made sure to keep a closer eye on you. He noticed you changing more and more every day.
Typically, you'd only get around seven hours of sleep if you were lucky, but now you sleep around nine hours a day. You were also more mushy than normal. You never really liked physical touch, and Hotch understood why, as he, too, was not a big fan of touch either, but lately, you have been craving his touch. During the day, you would sit close to him at the round table and on the plane, reach for his hand whenever it was empty, and play with his fingers. At night, you would crawl into bed as soon as possible and rush to his side to cuddle. Hotch loved this new side of you. He loved the attention and love you gave him every day, but he couldn't help but wonder why.
One day after work, it finally hit him.
You both had finally gotten home from work. Jack was already asleep in his room, and it was almost time for you and Hotch to sleep. After exiting Jack's room, Hotch could see you in the kitchen. The lights were dim, but he saw you grabbing a tub of ice cream from the freezer. You grabbed a bowl and scooped three decent-sized scoops of vanilla ice cream before putting the tub in the freezer. You then grabbed some cookies from the pantry, breaking pieces off into your bowl of ice cream. Hotch continued to watch you from afar, analyzing your every move, trying to pinpoint the cause of this new behavior. He came up blank.
You moved the ice cream into your room, sat on the bed under the covers, and began to feast on your late-night treat. Hotch followed you in curiosity before asking, "Ice cream and cookies? I'm surprised you have the energy." You shrugged in response, ignoring Hotch's comment. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything, he thought to himself as he walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Mid brush, he could hear the sound of the TV on. The noise made him drift off into thought. He listed out everything that has changed in you and began compiling a list of possible causes. Stress? Nope, it can't be that since your lives are always stressful, and they haven't been more or less stressful in the past few weeks. Could it be your depression? Hotch doubted it. You have been taking your medication regularly, never missing a dose, and you wouldn't crave attention in a depressive state. Maybe it's biological, not mental. Were you sick? You weren't coughing, wheezing, or sneezing. Then it slowly started to hit him.
Hotch spits out the toothpaste when he begins to get flashbacks to when Haley was pregnant with Jack. He remembers the morning sickness, the increase in appetite, the need for him to be around 24/7, and the pain. He wiped his mouth on a towel nearby, not really much attention to what he was doing. Could you be? Nope. You were taking birth control, and you guys haven't really been sexually active lately. The last time you had sex was before all this change.
Hotch looked over at you from inside the bathroom. You were in the same position as before, eating your ice cream while watching what appeared to be some crime show. Funny how you go from working on crime cases to watching crime cases unfold on the big screen. He returned to his nighttime routine, moving into the bedroom to grab pajamas. He could tell that you were watching his every move out of the corner of his eye. He chucked to himself before going back into the bathroom to change. While changing, his mind returned back to your predicament. He couldn't help but return to the pregnancy theory as he secretly hoped it was true. You weren't in any type of pain, though, and no morning sickness. That is when he remembered overhearing you talk about your mom's love for being pregnant.
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"I swear if my mom didn't have her tubes tied, she would love nothing more than to be pregnant again. All she did was walk around naked eating chocolate," you said while sitting at your desk.
Derek and Emily looked a bit terrified, but Spencer didn't. In fact, Spencer went on a rant about how DNA can affect a pregnancy and how everyone can have an array of symptoms. "It's quite common for people to experience pregnancy differently. In fact, research has shown that genetics can factor into nausea experienced during pregnancy. So, based on that, you'll probably have a smooth pregnancy like your mom," Spencer informed the group.
"Ok, pretty boy, you need to stop reading those pregnancy books JJ has," Derek says as the group returns to their respective work.
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Oh my God. You were pregnant. That had to be why you acted differently these last few weeks. Hotch quickly finished getting dressed before running into the bedroom. "You're pregnant," he says quite loudly before jumping on the bed and putting your ice cream on the nightstand beside you so he can hug you.
"I'm what now?" You asked, looking at Hotch confused.
Hotch released you from his embrace, placing his hands on your face. "You, my love, are pregnant. We're pregnant," he spoke softly, only to return to hugging you tightly. You sat in silence, too stunned to speak. You tried to wrap your head around the idea of a baby growing inside of you, but you just couldn't understand why Hotch thought you were pregnant. "I'm pregnant?" you asked Hotch as if trying to convince yourself of it. Hotch pulled away from your body to look down at you. He could see the worry and confusion on your face, and he began to wonder, "Do you not want a baby?"
You looked away for a moment to think about it. It's not that you never wanted a baby, but you just couldn't imagine having one. You guys already have Jack, which was enough for you, but the more you thought about it, the more you smiled at the idea. Hotch is already an amazing father, and you weren't the worst with Jack. The two of you could definitely make a second child work, and the team would be thrilled at the idea of yet another little member of the BAU.
You looked back at Hotch, staring into each other's eyes. You moved in and gave him a little kiss on the lips before whispering, "We're gonna have a baby."
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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year
Text
Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.
He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.
It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.
It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.
He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.
Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.
It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.
One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.
He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.
So what does happen to Eddie Munson?
He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.
He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.
There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.
Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.
He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.
He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.
He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.
The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.
Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.
Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.
It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.
And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.
He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--
"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."
Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.
It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.
It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.
Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.
Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.
The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.
He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.
This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)
Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.
He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.
He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.
He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.
He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?
It's what got him out of hell alive, after all.
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tojivu · 4 months
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nightmares ⋆ nanami kento
an. my finals start in june i'm gonna explode yall
cw. sfw. gn!reader. kento has nightmares and he needs you
playing. oh my god by fog lake.
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nanami's been getting more sleep ever since he left jujutsu tech and that shitty nine to five he used to slave at every damn day — along with the fact that he's able to spend more time with you. he likes to say that it helps him sleep, having you within arms reach (something that was extremely rare in the past, considering he had no time to rest).
kento thinks you resemble closely to a human sized pillow, and he often treats you as such. his arms are wrapped around your frame, one of his legs laying on top of yours — his chest rises and falls slowly, small snores leaving his lips — and you're thankful, very thankful; nanami was never able to sleep this soundly when you two lived in tokyo.
you try your best to push his heavy weighted figure away: you groan and complain that he's too big to be sharing this bed with you and that he should be sleeping on the floor instead. yet, you welcome him with open arms every night — pressing kisses to his forehead and running your fingers through his blonde hair.
you'd rather clingy and sleepy nanami who uses you as a personal bolster pillow in the night than sleepless nanami who locks himself away in his office, or exhausted nanami who drags his feet through the entrance of your home with bloodied limbs. it broke your heart more times than you could really count, seeing kento that way.
nanami kento saw his life flash before his eyes in shibuya, and all he could really pray for was to make it out alive so he could see you one last time — even if it were just for a few minutes. he clung desperately onto the last bit of energy and will he had in hopes of making it out alive; even if he was mutilated to a point beyond recognition, he needed to be with you. that was the only way he could let himself go — he would crawl back to your home if it meant he could kiss you one last time.
he never told you how long he'd be gone, or if he'd even come back at all: so you waited anxiously, refreshing news pages and watching the television every night for some sort of good. any sort of indication kento was okay.
he doesn't return home. you only see him when you rush down to the hospital they take him to — barely conscious, holding on to hope he didn't know he still had. nanami regains his full consciousness in the weeks following, the first thing he says being that he's done.
yes, nanami didn't want to risk it. never again.
it's 2 in the morning and you're unable to sleep, nanami's groans and sudden flinches are keeping you up.
"ken?"
the expression on his face is horrific — you feel the guilt wash over you like a wave, high and then crashing; so your fingers find his arms and you try your very best to shake the man awake.
your husband wakes up with a whimper; tired eyes almost brimming with tears at the fact that he is awake and you are real. his mouth is sealed, unable to utter a word, but the way his lips tremble tells you everything he cannot say.
"are you—"
soon, calloused fingers are gripping the flesh of your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. a nightmare, you can already tell: his hands feel clammy and his breathing is laboured.
"ken," you whisper. "'s okay. i'm here."
he sucks air through his teeth, trying to catch his breath. his body shudders at your touch as you graze over his skin — tracing circles on his bare back, your lips on his forehead. kento feels like he's about to cry, but he's not sure from what: at the fact that he had the worst dream of his life, or the fact that he's not dead and you're still here.
"'m s-sorry," he mutters. his voice is strained, still that deep and low tone that you're familiar with — but your heart still breaks as he apologises. "i'm sorry for waking you."
"don't be sorry," you comb your fingers through his hair using your free hand. "you know i don't mind it."
he sniffles and you yearn to hold him even tighter, but you think he would suffer broken ribs if you went through with that; so you settle for his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around his back.
"love you," nanami mumbles, voice getting softer and his grip looser — he feels his heart calm and his mind empty when you touch and hold him just like this. "i love you so much."
nanami wanted to be your protector. he hoped he would be for the remainder of his life — he likes to think he's doing a decent job at it now — but sometimes, it feels as though you are his; you fit awfully well to the title.
he supposes that's why he sleeps longer with you in the same bed as him; it's a peaceful thing knowing you're next to him if he has another bad dream, or if he feels cold and needs your warmth — or if he just wants to lay with you.
"i love you more, ken," you lulled, the tips of your fingernails scratching the skin of his trapezius; he recognises the heart shapes you trace on him. "get some rest."
"okay," he hums, his nose poking at your collarbones — his lips slowly leaving trails of kisses along them. "goodnight, darling."
your lips curl into a smile almost instinctively and you think it's embarassing, but it's much too dark for kento to see you blush at the name he calls you. you're thankful.
"goodnight, baby."
he's thankful that it's close to pitch dark, as well — kento thinks you can't see the smile he has on his face — but what he doesn't realise that you can feel him on your skin; feel the way his cheeks puff and his lips form the small smile you are so familiar with.
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090124 — happy new years Tartaglieo fandom my gcse's are upcoming.
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trulyhblue · 3 months
Text
My Girl
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Hayley Raso x Barcelona! Reader
Warnings: fluff, established relationship, drinking, sport rivals, coarse language.
A/N — this photo of her after the Chelsea vs RMA CL game has me in a chokehold. A short but sweet one <3
_______________________
You met Hayley in a drunken embrace, breathing in the earthy chill that contrasted the firey ambience of the club.
You hadn't been starting for your Childhood team for a couple of weeks now, only just making the starting eleven today you went above and beyond in training. Barcelona was your home. You grew up in the city, raised with a football by your feet, and had been a part of the club for as long as you could remember. You were one of the many girls among the team who had never experienced life outside of the Spanish League, with no eminent efforts of changing that anytime soon. You had made your debut at seventeen, and over these past few years, you were lucky enough to see the team expand into one of the greatest women’s team in the world — arguably even the best.
While this came with certain bragging rights, and of course the utmost pride for the club, the safety and security that came with your position on the team were always at stake. Unlike other teams, Barcelona were ongoing in their endeavours to keep their players on their toes in regard to their contracts. This was most apparent in girls like you, who had been at Barca your whole life.
It was a constant battle to the top, but maintaining your status there was harder. You loved football. It was your passion, your dream, but it was also your career — a very demanding one, at that.
You had met Hayley in England when you were visiting Manchester to catch up with your close friend Ona. Ona was at United, thriving at the club in streaks, but her contract was ending with the reds. You were one of the first to know about the girl’s transfer to your club. You were so, so excited.
It was nearing the end of the season, the Manchester Derby being the game you watched, but you couldn't help but catch the eye of one of the girls on the opposite team.
Her name was Hayley, you knew that from the ribbon in her hair and the curls that fell from her flimsy bun. You watched her intently throughout the game, unable to peel your eyes off the woman as she threaded the ball in and out of her position on the wing. As a Winger yourself, you were able to easily admire her skill, despite the fact that you were in fact rooting for the other team. You were quick to make yourself known to her after the game, and everything sort of hit it off from there.
Hayley was kind. Her heart was full of gold, and her precious person was something you fell in utter love with. She made you laugh like no one else. She had a way of making you feel seen, heard, and thought of even if there were a million different things going on around you that looked to be more important. The two of you didn't even think about the physical distance that you’d have to face. The instant connecting made it impossible to break the bond you immediately had.
After a couple of weeks of talking back and forth, you had found yourself hopelessly enamoured with the Australian.
Ona announced her move to Barca in June, and your national team was preparing for the long and apprehensive task of the World Cup. Before, you thought yourself very lucky to be playing in such an important tournament with such talented played. You still think this now, but after meeting Hayley, all thoughts turned to the idea of being in the same country for a whole month together.
Obviously, you did not have much time to spend. Winning the World Cup was a dream come true. It was everything you had ever dreamed of. But your heart was yearning for only one thing.
Hayley had asked you to be your girlfriend on the day you were due back to Spain. Her surprising announcement to Real Madrid just before the Cup was nothing of a shock to you. While you played for the rival team — and maybe, sort of tried to convince the girl to try for Barca — you were over the moon that she was so much closer to you.
Now, months later, you were spending your evening in a bar with Aitana and Keira slung to your hip, slurring your words as you searched for your phone. The Barca girls were in Madrid after a critical match against Atletico Madrid, meaning the next few days were going to be by your Australian’s side.
“Ugh, calling the enemy, I see.” Keira quipped, rolling her eyes. Aitana giggled from beside her, watching your sluggish motions with a smug countenance.
You ignored their antics, ignoring their jokes and finding your girlfriend's contact on your phone. You didn't even register how it took a few seconds for her to pick up, but you realised she had been waiting by the sound of her keys.
“Heyyyyy, Hay.” You splattered, pulling down an inch of your heightening skirt. “Miss you so much, Babyyy.”
“Hello, darling.” You heard your girlfriend chuckle. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” You asked. You flipped Keira off when she mocked your whines.
“For me to pick you up, Darling.” Hayley replied.
“Hm,” You pondered for a moment, trying to remember why you wanted to call Hayley in the first place. “I'm in a bar, Hay.”
“I know. I can hear it in your voice.”
“Nooo, I've had no drinks.” You whined, pulling yourself up from the secluded corner you and the girls were nurturing. “Why are you calling?”
If you were shit-faced drunk right now, you would've caught onto the Aussie’s continuous patience, and the endearment in her tone as she talked to you.
“You called me, Babygirl.” She spoke, her side of the phone quiet in contrast to the blaring music you were surrounded by. “Maybe it's time for me to pick you up?”
“You can't pick me up, Ribbon.” you giggled, the fond nickname rolling off your tongue in second nature. “You're at home. I'm at a club.”
“Oh, yes, my mistake, Darling,” she responded quickly. Hayley was already driving to your location having been waiting for this call all night. You didn't know this, but she was slightly envious of your team taking you away. While you both lived in the same country now, it was still at least a five-hour drive between Madrid and Barcelona. Furthermore, it wasn't often that teams would stay after away games, so it frustrated her knowing you were spending time with a team you spent every day with when you could be with her.
“I'm on my way now, okay?” She said to the phone, knowing that despite the silence you were waiting for her to guide the conversation. “Do any of the girls need a lift?”
You gave a quick glance over to the group you were with. Alexia was scolding Mapi downing shots. Ona was trying to force water down Aitana’s throat, and Keira was just singing at the top of her lungs, swaying to the beat of the music.
“No, Alexia is here.” You put it simply. Everyone knew that if Alexia was near, everyone would be getting home safe.
Hayley must've heard you from over the music since she hummed back. “Alright then,” She answered, turning the corner towards the club. “I want you to go tell Keira or someone that you're leaving so they know you're going.”
You ran a hand through your hair, crossing your arms over your chest in silent rebuttal. “Keira’s drunk, Hayley.”
“Okay, then don't tell her, tell Aitana.”
“Oh, erm— she's drunk too.”
You could hear the girl’s sigh. “Put Alexia on the phone please, Baby.”
You did as you were told, handing the phone to your captain without managing to explain why you did so. The older woman shared a solemn conversation with your girlfriend before hanging up the call and turning to Ingrid.
With Keira and Aitana yelling out goodbyes, the Norwegian woman held the small of your back, leading you out of the club to make sure you did so without error.
“Love you, Ingrid.” You muttered, holding the back of the girl’s top as she led the two of you out.
“Love you too, Precioso.” She replied, smiling at your dazed expression before finding Hayley’s car pull up beside you. You watched your girlfriend walk out towards you, giving your teammate a slightly awkward, but grateful nod as you breathed in her familiar scent.
“Hey, Hay.” You gasped, grasping onto Hayley’s sweater in replacement of Ingrid.
“Hey, sweet girl.” She uttered, opening the passenger door, aiding your balance as you trampled in.
You made sure to give one last look at Ingrid, smiling as big as you could. “Love you, Ingrid. Miss you so so so so much.”
“Miss you too, y/n/n. See you soon.”
You found yourself relaxing in the passenger seat as Hayley drove off. Her hand sat comfortably on your thigh, drawing small, wistful circles as you hummed a quiet tune.
When you finally arrived home, Hayley helped you take off your makeup, taking off your shoes, and slotting her Matildas trackies and one of her old Portland Thorns shirts over the top of you. You were like putty in her grip, letting her lead you to the bed without a second to protest, engulfing the cool climate of the sheets.
“I'm ‘gonna go get some water and paracetamol for you, Darling. Do you want anything else?”
Your girlfriend held out her hand, lightly stroking the baby hairs that had fallen from her pony and onto her face.
“Do we have any food?” you asked, knowing the answer already but feeling the need to ask anyway.
The Australian nodded and walked out of her bedroom, taking a few minutes to collect everything she needed. When coming back, she noticed the furrow in between your eyebrows. The drunken endeavours of the night were inevitably going to catch up to you and Hayley knew you were starting to release that when you happily accepted the water and medicine in a few gulps.
Once the two of you had settled back into bed, with Hayley changing into her pyjamas, you had almost forgotten about your prior request when you heard the ruffle of a packet sound from beside you.
Your head shot up, eyes darting to the yellow cardboard box and concealed package within it. Hayley’s arm had found its way across your waist, pulling you into her side as she let the scent of the food waft into the space.
You laughed at Hayley’s look of delight — two Cheddar Shapes already popping into the girl’s mouth.
“Where did you get these?” You asked, watching Hayley’s devious smile widen.
“Fan gave them to me.” She replied, shoving three more into her mouth.
You two shared a still and silence as you cracked away at the biscuits one at a time. Madrid had fallen into a quiet city — no longer filled with the connotations of noise and light, the wholesome bubble of your bedroom filling the enmity of home for the night.
“You're so cute, ribbon.” you quipped, glancing over the blush that had dusted your girlfriend’s cheeks. Hayley pulled you closer, the box of the Aussie snack hushed off the bed.
You felt the warmth of her embrace overwhelm you into fatigue, the combination of one another's love steering you two into an eternity of solitude.
“You are too, my girl.”
___________________________
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grimesgirll · 2 months
Text
“wouldn’t kill ya’ to smile, wouldn’t it, baby?”
your gaze goes upward from the fire you’re building to the man standing before you.
“fuck is there to smile about?” you quip quietly, pursing your lips and turning your attention back to the task at hand.
you should’ve known that would set off your ex boyfriend. the boyfriend who should really be your ex right now. you feel him behind you and eventually in front of you when he leans down to gently grasp your face. shane tilts your chin upwards in his hand while you simply glare.
“been gettin’ real tired of your attitude.”
“makes two of us.”
something in his eyes clouds and you can nearly see the frustration bubbling beneath his surface. “you know you could really have it worse somewhere else, girl.” he lets go of your chin. “you should be happy to be here and not out there alone.”
you can’t argue with him. after these past few weeks, you’d endure whatever macho act he manufactured just to make it to safety. anything at this point to get to richmond. wherever noah’s family was posted up had to be better than cannibal country or cop city.
playing the role of shane’s personal diplomat is exhausting but it’s kept conflict from escalating more than once. without you, he would’ve for sure gotten himself killed by now. it goes both ways as you can count on more than one hand the number of times he’s saved your life.
“we had a home. we’re gonna find a new one. until then you better be thankful to have someone looking out for you.” the man explains to you. “someone takin’ care of you.”
you snort. “you should be happy i let you fuck me.”
your boyfriend’s nostrils flare. “wanna repeat that?”
you don’t spare him a glance. “be happy i haven’t left you already. if it wasn’t the fucking end of times, our relationship would be toast.” you say that like it isn’t already.
but you didn’t leave him. how could you with the world falling apart around you?
and with your newfound sense of responsibility to lori and carl, staying with shane made the most sense. why not keep trying with someone who held you at night and fought tooth and nail to protect you.
that isn’t everything though.
he narrows his eyes at you. “wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t always findin’ one.”
“you fucking lori was a problem that i found?”
he throws his hands up. “why the fuck do you keep mentionin’ lori? that’s fucked,” he scolds your name. “that’s my daughter’s mother.”
“i’m not blaming her, i’m blaming you.” you discern. “you’ve been an asshole ever since everything happened.”
“c’mere.” shane pulls you to your feet and drags you away from the fire, leaving the task to sasha who’d been sitting nearby. shane has you on your feet and moving towards the back of the rest stop your group was posted up l in. “let’s take a walk.”
“shane! i’m about to make dinner over the fire,” you complain and pull back your arm but shane just wraps you in his embrace and wills you towards the grassy picnic area facing the forest.
“c’mon, one step at a time, baby. don’t make me carry you.”
“fucker.”
“watch it,” shane warns and steers you towards a dusty wooden gazebo where rick is standing with a radio, trying to get a signal from the looks of it.
“any luck?” shane calls out like he didn’t just forcibly walk you from the fire circle out here.
the bearded man turns around. he doesn’t have to shake his head or give you two a word to answer his friend’s question. an icy blue stare goes over you and shane.
“what’s going on?”
“oh, we just thought we’d see what you were up to. see if you were busy.” the ex-cop with his arms wrapped around you from behind declares.
rick drops his radio into his back pocket. “‘m not.”
“perfect. this one wants to thank you.”
rick’s dark brow goes up in question and you shake your head, asking, “huh?”
“what? you don’t wanna thank rick? don’t be rude, baby.”
you owe the man your life a million times over.
rick had saved you, shane, judith, carl, and the others so many times. he’d led you through the debilitating winters and the most nightmare inducing storms you could imagine facing in the end of times. metaphorical or not, rick had seen you all through more than you’d ever pay him back for.
the man who stayed up with you while you settled judith and helped you soothe the little girl who didn’t belong to either of you.
the rugged man looks on from shane to you not quite comprehending. it only takes the feel of shane’s hand on your ass to understand.
fuck. not now, shane, you plead internally.
“i want you to show our friend rick how grateful you are that he’s gotten us this far. huh?” shane places a steel hand on your back as he shoves you forward towards rick, nudging you onto your knees when you’re dawdling too much for him to tolerate. “go on.”
“shane.” the man above you warns.
“no, rick.” your boyfriend stops him, dark irises widening. “i see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. don’t feel bad about it.” he chuckles. “think about it as payback for lori.”
a “what the fuck” is breaching your lips before you know it.
“why do you talk to her like that?” rick questions, chest puffing out slightly. “everything she’s stood you through.”
shane shrugs. “i’m just thinkin’ it’d help us all relax. lower tension, y’know. after we were almost slaughtered like cattle back there.”
your mind flashes to terminus. you hadn’t seen rick, shane, and some of the other men of your group tied up and prepared to have their throats slashed, but the scene made your stomach flip.
rick looks down at you, maybe considering the fact that he does have a lot of steam to let off. nearly a year’s worth to be honest.
“you been thinkin’ about me?” he inquires with a step closer to you, dipping his hand to cup your face.
beneath your leader, you feel small. ten feet tall, you’d feel insignificant compared to rick. that man has more guts and drive than you could ever admit to. more than shane could ever dream of. the thought scratches an itch you didn’t realize lay dormant.
“yes,” you exhale sweetly, almost giving away your giggle when shane has to pick up his jaw. “especially ever since the prison fell.”
“really?”
you nod. “thank you, rick.” you express your gratitude with parted lips. “you take such good care of all of us. if you really want to use my mouth, i would blow you.”
shane is stuttering a curse and rick just whistles.
“good girl,” shane praises. “never knew you had it in you.”
you wait on your knees for rick, beaming up at him.
rick has the look of a man considering letting his best friend’s girlfriend - who he has at least fifteen years on - blow him. he thumbs your soft lips, trying to convince himself not to. even under that newly acquired hardened exterior, rick is calculated.
it’s not until he lowers his hands at his sides and croons a, “only if you want to, darlin,” that has you undoing his belt and yanking down his pants.
you slow your roll once you come into contact with his underwear. beneath those dark blue boxers is a rock hard cock.
a noise escapes you that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t hear. rick is bigger than shane. you want to burst into laughter. shane had to have seen the outline of rick’s thick cock sometime during their years together in some locker room somewhere.
thoughts of if he’ll fit or not consume you momentarily until your hands are moving automatically and you’re met with the real thing. you feel hands in your hair and tense.
“down and up. you know how to do it.”
shane is behind you with his sturdy hands on top of your head, ready to guide you down onto his friend.
“just let her do what she wants.” rick snaps at the other man, exhaling at the feel of your hand around him.
“fine.” shane throws his hands up and goes to lean against the rest stop information board.
ever the sore loser, shane pouts but lets you sink further on your knees to begin by trailing a stripe from rick’s balls up to the tip of his cock. back down you go again to lick circles around him, working a pattern with your tongue.
the noises coming out of rick have you agreeing with shane - he really needs this. after everything, rick deserves to close his eyes and let you descend below his shaft to suckle first one side, then the other, while he lays his hands in your lustrous hair.
eventually you’re lapping around again and you circle your tongue around him, eyes widening in surprise at his moans.
shane snickers. “you like her mouth, rick? me too. don’t blow your load too early, bud, i know you probably can’t help it.”
you feel the man in your mouth tense above you. he ignores shane, snapping his hips lightly into your face instead. despite the initial humiliation of the situation and the shane of it all, you find yourself getting excited. a wet patch forms and you can tell by how hard you grind down onto yourself as rick starts to twitch.
“needy slut,” shane comments.
you roll your eyes, not missing a beat as you bob up and down on your leader. his spit covered dick disappears in and out of your mouth. you do your best to fit what you can of his length that is too large for your mouth.
rick doesn’t have a problem though. all he needs is to dig a little deeper in your hair and angle his cock down your throat. you’re so startled you gag but at the same time you moan and whimper around him.
a cry around him from a particularly harsh jostle of his pelvis against your face is what it takes to start spilling in your mouth. your foggy brain can barely decipher what to do next but you remember that you’re wearing one of your favorite sweaters and suck him dry.
rick isn’t out of your mouth when shane is nearly shoving him out of the way and grasping onto you, directing your head towards his now nude dick.
“my turn,” shane takes rick’s spot instantly, not sparing you more than a breath or two before his girthy cock is against your lips.
“that’s not good for her knees, man.” rick is saying but shane just laughs.
“you weren’t sayin’ that when you were in the one in her mouth.”
shane is taking up your mouth before you know it and you gag immediately when he drives like he’s aiming for your uvula.
your noises muffle around his cock but the sheriff looking on still hears them - is still affected by then. every pump of his fellow ex-officer’s hips made you gag, forced to swallow the burning feeling building up in your throat.
rick can’t take his eyes off you. after receiving the same treatment, he’s still mesmerized by the whole thing; the spontaneity of it, how absurd it all was, how soft and plush your mouth had been, how perfect you are.
“never knew you were such a whore,” shane groans with a gasp of your name, pushing your head down when you start to slide up and off of him to say something. “fuck, you’re so good for me, baby, always have been.”
his grip is buried in your long hair. rick observes with his half hard cock in his hand, eyebrow arching lightly at the sight of shane’s face. your boyfriend tightens his grip and before you know it his cock is thrust into your throat. a few more slams of his hips and he’s holding you firmly while you gulp down his length - and his release.
shane backs out of your mouth only to snake a rough hand down your pants.
“shane!” you’re nearly squealing when he thumbs down your panties and moves towards your sensitive patch of nerves. your face is overtaken with a blush again as your leader palms his hard on on the bench next to you.
whispering low in your ear, your boyfriend hums;
“now, you wanna show rick how grateful you are with your pussy?”
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missjomarch · 1 month
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Josephine - Luke Hughes
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A/N: This is the longest thing I have ever written. Like actually. I heard the song Josephine by Pony Bradshaw and my brain was begging me to do something creative with it, so I wrote this. But I'm on my period so it turned very sad and angsty quickly. So now you all get to suffer along with me! With that said please please read the warnings and if at any point you feel uncomfortable click away.
Word Count: 3.7k 😳
Warnings: Grief and angst with no real happy ending or comfort. Cursing, crying, mentions of blood and pain. A half second on 18+ content but no explicit details.
(Portions in italics are flash backs. Enjoy, lovelies. 🫶)
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Luke Hughes sat sprawled in one of the cushioned armchairs spaced across the rooftop bar the New Jersey Devils currently resided on. His view of the New York skyline was fuzzy, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the beer in his left hand or the smoke from the joint in his right. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here, and he damn sure didn’t want to be sober. Luke could feel the pitying looks from his brother and captain all the way across the bar, but at least they hadn’t made any comments tonight. 
The team had won the game earlier in the day by a large margin and Luke wasn’t beating himself up over minuscule mistakes like he used to. No, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, Luke was playing some of the best hockey he had in years. His on-ice performance was probably the only reason he was even still on the team, considering that he had been skipping most morning skates and all public appearances for the past few weeks. 
He had seen the therapist the team provided and taken the weeks off that the trainers had suggested, so he isn’t sure why they insist on continually doing mental checkups on him. It was irritating. Especially when he didn’t give them the answers they wanted, so they sent Jack to pester him instead. All it did was remind him of you. 
“Luke.” 
His head snapped towards where you sat in the passenger seat of his car, eyes shining and a soft smile on your lips. 
“The light has been green for like 30 seconds, babe. What’s going on in that pretty head, hm?” 
Luke always swore that your sweet voice could melt 20 feet of snow in the dead of winter. It was like coming home from a long day to a warm house. It was one of his favorite things about you. So, because he knew you’d ask the question again, he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. He fully planned to keep his troubles to himself in an attempt not to worry you, but then your manicured hand was running through the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Tell me about it, Lu. What’s wrong?” 
With your use of the nickname, he was gone. Suddenly all the world’s problems were spilling from his lips, and he couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to. You tended to have that effect on people. You were just so damn easy to talk to. And the best part? You almost always knew how to make it better. A quick kiss and a Band-Aid, and Luke was back on his way with a smile. 
“Luke,” you mumbled, “Luke…” 
“Luke.” 
Jack stood in front of his brother, shaking his shoulder to break him from his trance. 
“You okay?” Jack questioned, not missing the shine in Luke’s eyes as they were torn from the skyline view. He watched as Luke took a deep drag from the joint in his hand, exhaling the smoke as he attempted to clear the lump from his throat. 
“Fine, Jack.” 
“Bullshit,” Jack couldn’t help the scoff he let out, “Get up, we’re going home.” 
Luke didn’t have it in him to argue. Not that he would have, anyway. He never wanted to leave the house in the first place, especially after the situation Jack got him into the last time they had gone out. 2 months ago, his brother had dragged him to this same rooftop bar insisting that it’d be good for him to get out there again. It took all of 30 minutes before Jack was pushing Luke in the direction of a random girl. “A good fuck will fix you right up”, Jack had claimed. 
“Luuuuke,” the girl below him moaned as he kissed down her neck. He didn’t know her name, didn’t particularly care to either. He was a bit too busy resenting his brother for setting him up with this random girl in the first place. 
He tried to ignore the hot anger flowing through him, tried to focus on the heavy breathing of the blonde and the way her nails were raking down his back. Luke’s hands dipped under her shirt, quickly finding her bra and giving it a harsh tug downwards. His fingers fumbled deftly until they gripped her tits, drawing a sharp gasp from the girl. 
“Oh! Lu, please,” she whined. When he didn’t respond, she went to pull his face to hers. But Luke had froze, brain short circuiting at the nickname he hadn’t heard in over 8 months. 
His throat was burning. His breath turned ragged as he yanked his hands from beneath her shirt. He stared at her with wild eyes, chest heaving. 
“Get out,” he ground out. His heart was pounding. What was wrong with him? 
“Are you okay?” The blond started back at him with a horrified expression, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out any malicious words. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut. 
“Leave, please.” He begged, unable to look her in the face.
“Luke, I don’t understand,” she tried to reason, “Luke…” 
“Luke.” 
Jack was looking at him expectantly from the driver’s side of his sleek BMW as he navigated the late-night New Jersey traffic. Luke blinked slowly, trying to clear the bitter memory from his foggy mind. 
“Sorry, what’d you say?” Luke questioned, choosing to ignore the concern blaring in his brother’s eyes. Jack seemingly decided to let it be, instead jumping back into whatever he originally asked. 
“I was asking if you thought the stadium series would be a good time to introduce Sydney to mom and dad? I know it’s only been a few months, but I don’t know when they’ll be in town again.” 
Luke nodded, “Are you just going to do it at dinner? Or the hotel?” 
Jack hesitated, clearly contemplating the options before lighting up, “What if I brought her to the family skate? She’s been wanting to learn anyways! It be just like when you brought jo-” Jack choked on his words, immediately recognizing his mistake. He turned towards his brother, attempting to get a read on his face in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. But Luke had already shut down, face turned to stare blankly out the window. 
Jack reached over to give a comforting squeezing to Luke’s left shoulder, “Luke.” 
“LUKE!” you squealed as your hands white knuckled his sweatshirt. He giggled at your skating stance before pulling you to his chest. 
“You alright there, Bambi?” He smirked down at you as you sent him a glare. 
“I’m new to this, asshole. It’s not my fault my teacher is no good,” you threw back at him. It was your turn to smirk as Luke’s mouth hung open in mock offense. 
“I’ll have you know that I’ve taught hundreds of kids across the state of New Jersey how to properly skate.” 
“Those poor kids,” you quickly retorted, sticking your tongue out as he scowled at you. However, that scowl quickly faded into a look of mischief and your face dropped as his arms loosened around you.
“Fine. Suit yourself, Bambi.” Luke let you go, giving you the lightest of shoves backwards. Then you were stranded. Forced to watch as your boyfriend skated backwards away from you, leaving you wide eyed and terrified as you froze on the ice. Your fear quickly turned to anger, and Luke marked the shift in your demeanor with a laugh. 
“Luke Warren Hughes, you come back here and get me right now.” 
“Nope. Come and get me, baby.” Luke winked at you as he skated past, only serving to further frustrate you. You’d never admit that his plan was working, but the anger was motivating. You let out a strangled groan before starting to shuffle forward, sliding your skates like Luke taught you. You were doing well for a while, slowly making your way towards where Luke was taunting you from the boards behind the net. That was until two kids flew past you, knocking you off balance and sending you scrambling to regain it. 
“Luke! Luke, Luke, Luke,” you called, too focused on your slipping feet to notice if your boyfriend was coming to your aid. Then you lost balance completely, tumbling down towards the ice. You closed your eyes as you avoided flinging your arms out to catch yourself, still heeding Luke’s warnings even as he got you in this mess in the first place. You prepared yourself for the cold hard burn of your backside hitting the ice, but it never came. Instead you landed in a pair of unfamiliar arms, barely recognizing that you weren’t on the ground before being hauled to a standing position. You carefully turned around and were met with Jack’s smiling face. 
“Knight in shining armor, at your service,” Jack grinned, adding a small salute for effect. You rolled your eyes, scanning the ice for Luke. 
“How long have you been following behind me?” 
“Ever since Luke pretended to leave you stranded. He planned the whole thing, I was behind you the entire time to save you from your inevitable demise,” Jack poked you, smile growing impossibly wider at the annoyed look gracing your face. 
“Big words for someone who never went to college,” you shot at him, needing anything to level the playing field between you. It was then that Luke finally returned, skating to a smooth stop to your left. 
“What’d I miss?” 
“Your girlfriend was insulting my intelligence after I graciously saved her precious be-hind,” Jack spoke, adding a bit more than his usual sassiness into the bit. Luke turned to tsk at you. 
“Now, now baby. We can’t make fun of people just because they’re less fortunate than us. It’s not Jacky’s fault he’s stupid,” Luke joked, loving the way your eyes lit up when you realized that he was joining your side. Jack, however, stood slack jawed across from you. 
“Now what the hell, Luke? I went along with your little plan, and this is how you repay me?” You and Luke just blinked at him, silly little grins sitting on your face. “Go to hell, both of you,” Jack scoffed before skating off. Once he was gone, you turned towards your boyfriend. Your pout returned, but it was quickly kissed away. 
“I promised you I’d never let you fall, baby. I just never said it’d be me who caught you.” 
You scowled, “you’re such a smart ass.” 
“Love you too, Princess,” Luke grinned. You begrudgingly allowed him to pull you into his chest, the warmth he radiated melting the glare right off your face. 
You turned your head to press a kiss into his jacket-clad chest, right over his heart. A warm smile graced your lips, “I love you, Lukey.” 
“Lukey!”
John Marino stood before him on the ice, stick poised to do the defensive drill coach had instructed them on. 
“You’re out of it today, kid. Are we going to do this drill or not?” 
“Yeah, my bad. Let’s go,” Luke nodded his head, once again trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He had just barely cleared his vision before the puck was dropped, and John was racing towards him. Practice continued like that, Luke losing focus periodically until one of his teammates pulled him back into the moment. 
When he trudged into the locker room an hour later, he was more than ready to go home. These were usually the days he would most appreciate having you to come home to. Leaving a hard practice and coming home to fall asleep in your arms was the best feeling. He tried not to think too much about the gaping hole that memory left in his chest as he untied his skates. 
Once he was dressed in his sweats he rushed from the locker room, hoping to escape the arena before anyone could question his mental wellbeing. Luke made it to the car without any hounding from the guys or trainers, but he had to wait for what felt like an eternity before Jack finally made his way into the parking garage. 
“What the hell took you so long?” Luke questioned, hopping into the passenger seat as Jack unlocked the car doors. 
“Coach wanted to talk to me for a second. You could’ve gotten the keys from my bag, yknow.”
“Yeah, but then I would’ve been tempted to leave you here,” Luke smirked at his brother. 
Jack only rolled his eyes, all too familiar with Luke’s teasing. His mind swirled with the reminders his coach had left him with after their brief post-practice discussion. Coach was getting extremely concerned about Luke and the lack of focus he displayed at practice and games. Jack was also concerned, and so was most of the team. He knew he should bring it up, but the joy in Luke’s eyes was so rare these days that Jack couldn’t bring himself to disturb it. He just wanted to support his brother the best he could, but Luke wouldn’t open up to him. Or anyone, for that matter. Not his mom, not Quinn, not even his old teammates from Michigan. Luke wouldn’t talk to anyone about you.  So Jack took what Luke gave him. Watching late night hockey, Door Dashing dinner, or playing video games for hours on end. Anything to keep his brother occupied, and make him realize that he wasn’t alone. 
Luke finally made his way into his room at 11 pm later that night, feeling relatively okay after eating dinner and watching a Canucks game with Jack. He had felt so unlike himself lately that any small reprieve from reality was a welcomed gift. He also knew that it helped Jack worry about him just a little bit less. 
Luke had just turned out his bathroom light after brushing his teeth when his door creaked open, revealing Jack standing in the doorway. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to check on him before bed, but it had recently become more frequent. 
“You good to leave for practice at 8 tomorrow?” Jack questioned. 
Luke nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be up.” 
“Better be. I’m not in the mood to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.”
Luke rolled his eyes, but the wary look on Jack’s face made him hold his tongue on the snarky response he was about to shoot back. 
“Promise, I’ll be good to go at 8.”       
Jack deemed that a good enough answer, and went to shut the door.
“Alright. Night, Luke.” 
“Luke…” you shakily whispered on the phone. Your voice was wobbly and high pitched, the tears streaming down your face evident in your tone. 
“Baby?” Luke spoke into the phone, “What’s wrong?” 
It was an hour and a half until puck drop, and you should’ve been on your way to the stadium by now. Luke’s furrowed brows caught the attention of Jack in the next stall over, stopping his movements from where he was lacing up his skates. 
“I was on my way to the arena, and I…” a broken sob escaped your mouth, startling Luke as he tried to fathom what could’ve possibly happened after he left the house. 
 “Someone hit me.” 
Luke jumped to his feet, “What do you mean hit you? What happened?” 
“I don’t know. Someone ran a red light or something and they hit my car. I think I spun into a pole,” your breath was growing ragged as you recited the wreck. 
“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming to get you,” Luke rushed out as he began grabbing his clothes back out of his bag. Half the locker room was staring now, all with varying looks of concern. 
“I don’t know what to do. I’m bleeding,” you squeaked. “Lukey, there’s so much blood.”              
This sent Luke into a panic. He was stripping his gear as fast as humanly possible while simultaneously yelling at Jack to give him to car keys. Jack’s concerns fell on deaf ears as Luke undressed, and he finally decided that following Luke was the safest option. 
“No. You’re okay, baby. I just need you to tell me where you are, okay? I’ll be there so soon, just tell me where,” Luke begged. He knew logically that the cops would arrive before he could, but he needed to be there with you. 
“Don’t know. But my head hurts so bad,” you whimpered out. Luke tried to ignore the way he could hear your voice weakening as you spoke. 
“Just stay on the phone with me, love. I’m on my way to come get you, yeah?”
Luke tried to reassure you as he shoved his feet into his shoes and rushed from the locker room. Jack was hot on his tail, car keys in hand. 
“ ‘m sorry, Lu,” your whisper was barely heard by Luke as he sprinted down the hallways of Prudential Center. 
“For what, love?” 
“I wanted to be at your game tonight,” you mumbled. 
“It’s fine, baby. There’ll be a million more games for you to come to, yeah?” 
Luke attempted to comfort you as he searched for your location, plugging it into the GPS as Jack pulled out of the parking garage. Luke could only hope the pregame traffic wouldn’t get in the way. 
“Mhmm. Lukey?” 
“Yeah, baby?” 
Your voice was barely a whisper, “I love you.” 
Luke swore he could feel his heart shatter at the crack in your voice. There were tears streaming from his face as he pushed Jack to drive faster. 
“I love you too, princess. So much. Jacky and I are going to be there so soon. I just need you to hang on for a few minutes. Can you do that for me?” 
Luke’s voice was frantic and only grew more so when he heard your phone tumbling out of your hand. 
“Baby? You’ve gotta stay awake, okay?” Luke pleaded, as tears streamed down his face. His hands shook where he held the phone to his ear. 
“Baby? Please tell me you’re okay. I just need you to say something.” 
Luke’s begging continued until the line went dead. 
“Fuck,” Luke muttered, sobs beginning to wrack his body. Jack looked at him frantically as he continued to navigate the streets of New Jersey. 
“Luke? What the hell happened?” Jack kept spitting questions, but he might as well have been talking to a brick wall. “Snap out of it, Luke.” 
“Luke.” 
Luke awoke to Jack shaking him violently, and he tasted the salty tears streaming down his face before he felt them. ‘No. Not again,’  Luke thought. He shot up in bed, sending Jack scrambling backwards to avoid knocking heads. Luke’s head whipped back and forth wildly as his eyes searched the room. ‘Please, please, please,’ he begged the universe. He ignored the way his brain reminded him of the truth, ignored his brother’s pitying look, ignored the cold bed beside him where you should’ve been. It was if the whole world was pointing and laughing at his grieving heart. ‘Look at this idiot,’ they all seemed to say, ‘He still thinks he can save her.’ 
“Fuck,” Luke exhaled, finally giving up his futile attempts at disproving what he knew was his reality. 
Jack stared as his younger brother lost himself to grief once again. Watching as Luke’s hands disappeared into his curls, head bowed as sob after sob wracked his body. Jack felt helpless knowing he couldn’t take this pain from his little brother. All he could do was hold him and promise to be there through it all. 
“I can’t keep doing this,” Luke whispered into Jack’s shoulder. “Every time I wake up, I lose her all over again, and I can’t do it anymore.” 
Jack hesitates, unsure exactly what to say in this situation. You were always the one with the best advice, the one who could handle anything. 
“We’re going to get you through this, okay? You’re not alone in fighting this,” Jack paused, contemplating how to suggest his next thought. “I know you think you’re fine, but I really think you need help Luke. She would want you to get help.” 
Luke nodded, knowing his brother was right. You would hate to see him like this. Ever the caretaker, you had always been the first person to chastise him for not taking proper care of his mental health during hockey season. If you saw him like this, you’d pull him into your arms and then absolutely rip him a new one until he promised to take care of himself. 
“I know,” Luke mumbled, “I’ll start seeing a therapist. I think I need to step away from hockey for a bit too. It’s not fair to the guys that my mental health is affecting the team performance.” 
“I think that’s smart,” Jack agreed. “The guys might not understand what you’re going through, but they know it’s not your fault Luke. They want you to get better too.” 
Luke could only nod, trying to accept Jack’s words as the truth and fight the part of his brain that was saying this was all his fault. Luke was so tired, but he wasn’t willing to go back to sleep when he knew memories of you was what awaited him. 
“I’ll call the trainers tomorrow. I don’t really want to go back to sleep, can we watch a movie or something?” 
“Of course,” Jack agreed, despite the exhaustion weighing him down. “I’ll even let you pick.” 
A slow, knowing grin spread across Luke’s features, “Even Secretariat?” 
Jack’s sigh could be heard all the way in New York, but he smiled nonetheless. Just happy to see that Luke was making small steps towards returning to himself. 
“Even Secretariat.” 
So that’s how Luke and Jack spent their evening, watching movies and eating obscene amounts of popcorn. Luke had smiled to himself for most of the night, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He knew the process would be slow and that he might never truly get back to ‘normal’. But admitting his pain and asking for help, that was enough for now. 
163 notes · View notes
euoniatz · 21 days
Note
Can I request leon finding a survivor in racoon city and protecting them? ( I've never played re2 so sorry if this would never happen in the game)
sure you can!🤗 i wasn't sure if you wanted slash or not so i went somewhere in the middle, hope that's okay 💕 enjoy!
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☆ leon s kennedy x reader
tags: hurt/comfort, blood and injury, protective leon, gn!reader
wordcount: 2105
<3
"thirty-three..." you count silently, hugging your knees to your chest as you shut your eyes even tighter.
you take a deep breath, hold it, and let it go. relax, a voice tells you in your mind.
there's another loud bang on the door. you try to be quiet, but your limbs flinch involuntarily and a cry slips past the hand on your mouth regardless.
"thirty-four..." you whisper into your palm, tasting the saltiness of your tears on the skin.
you're so tense it hurts, legs uncomfortably angled to fit under the same desk you've had since you were a kid and neck curled to do the same.
breathe, that voice says again, and you let go of the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.
the door creaks under the weight of another thud, and you inhale sharply, instantly regretting doing so as your nose fills with the sharp stench of blood.
you let another whimper slip, inching further beneath the desk as the scratching starts back up again. it never ends, really, but in times like these it reminds you that the wooden door separating you and them won't hold forever.
you are going to die in here, you think and glance at the window, or you are going to die out there.
"thirty..." shit, where were you?
outside, the rain is pouring, slamming against the thin glass of the windowpanes as if dedicated to give you even more problems.
you're grateful your flat is on the third floor, then is instantly struck with guilt again, remembering your neighbors downstairs and the plants you used to water for them.
maybe they- your mind starts, and for the nth time you have to remind yourself: no, they didn't get out safely, no one did, you're the last person alive in racoon city - you're alone.
of course, you can't be sure of that last part, but you can't imagine anyone who's still breathing would be stupid enough to stay.
one of them starts growling into the crack in the door again, and you're reminded of where you are - curled up in the bedroom you only moved into a week ago and hiding because zombies are real and the undead version of your landlords are trying to eat your brain.
you shut your eyes with a sigh, cursing your thoughts for being so entirely unhelpful.
"one..." you start over, wondering if you'll even get to thirty this time.
except, before you can even get to two there's a loud noise. not the kind of dull thuds you've gotten used to, but something else.
a gunshot.
at first you think you're imagining things, or maybe you misheard. but then there it is again - a series of deafening pangs just below your window.
your heart races as you sit perfectly still, listening intently for any other sound as the shots go silent. a loud creak follows, old and rusted and terrifyingly familiar.
your stomach drops - you know exactly what's making that noise, remembering how the landlord showed you how the fire escape works and how the metal groaned under his weight.
something got up there, you think, panic climbing in your throat.
heavy thuds join the familiar one on the door, except they come from outside your window. this time, as the voice in your head tells you to breathe, you can't. it's as if the air has glued itself to the inside of your lungs, and you hold it there as your body aches with tension.
the snarling outside the door intensifies, and just as you recognize the heart-wrenching sound of the door panels splintering apart. quickly joining the cacophony of terror, however, is the noise of the window shattering.
you can't move, can't breathe-
BANG!
ears ringing, your mouth opens in what is only to you a soundless scream. you watch through tears as a dark smear in your vison slashes at your landlord. the man drops in front of the desk, and you flinch as something dark and wet sprays all over you.
panic muddles your mind. you thought you were prepared to die - you were wrong. it's scary and it's horrible and you hate it-
a hand touches your knee.
your eyes fly open as your leg kicks out instinctively. you watch, dazed, as a man, bloody and blond and alive, grimaces and stumbles back, cradling his stomach.
he raises his hands, maybe hoping to calm you.
it's in vain, your head is spinning and you only now recognize the sticky liquid on your skin as blood and your lungs ache as you belatedly realize you're still screaming.
the man's posture relaxes considerably once you shut your mouth and you blink, eyes flitting around your room as you struggle to process the state it's in.
you look at the bed, thinking about the old quilt at the foot of it that your dad made you when you were little. a limp body is draped over it, and you watch, horrified, as crimson red begins to pool on the floor.
the body wears a sun washed nirvana t-shirt, and you remember seeing it on the old man a floor above you before.
oh god, you think, breathing picking up again. they're dead. they're all dead-
"-y, hey, look at me," a voice startles you as the ringing in your ears subside and you catch the tail end of his words. you look over at the man, trying and failing not to look at the gore on his knife.
"okay, you're okay," he tells you, and when you meet his eyes, you're surprised to find sincerity there. he could still kill you, that voice from before pipes up, no longer comforting.
as if noticing the clarity slowly returning to you, the man nods and stands up, heading towards the door. panic strikes you suddenly and you shoot to your feet, bumping your head on the desk as the idea of being left alone here makes you tremble.
"wait!" you exclaim, surprised at the sound of your own voice so ragged and breathless. the man turns, eyes wide as he quickly gestures for you to calm down.
"hey, look, i'm just going to check the hallway," he says carefully while pointing to the broken door. "i'll be right back, okay? just stay here, ."
he waits for your shaky nod before leaving. you'd almost be grateful for the time alone to collect yourself, except you're not alone, and the two corpses in your bedroom aren't going anywhere. or at least you hope they're not.
so, standing in the centre of the bedroom you moved into a week ago, next to your dead landlord and neighbor, you hug yourself tightly and walk over the corner furthest from the door.
unfortunately it's the same corner where the window is, and you make a half-hearted effort to avoid stepping on any glass.
you flinch as another gunshot echoes from the floor above, letting a few more tears fall even as you try to calm yourself down. you knew things must be terrible, but your vivid imagination is somehow still not as bad as seeing it for yourself.
you can hear growling coming form the alley below your apartment, and instinctively glance out the window - meeting the dead eyes of a dozen walking corpses milling under the raised fire escape.
gasping sharply, you stumble away from the scene, panic increasing as your back collides with a hard surface.
"easy," the man from before says and grips your arms from behind. slowly he turns you to face him. "don't look."
you nod, somehow unbothered by his hands on your wrists as his eyes, sparkling with concern, scans your face. maybe you should be embarrassed of your cheeks blotchy with tears and puffy from how you've been rubbing your face clear of them for hours.
"i'm leon," the man introduces himself. you're grateful to put a name to the face, especially if this is the last time you see him.
you give him yours in turn, and he smiles, tells you it's a good name as his hand moves to your back and he moves you towards the door.
the hallway is in worse shape than your room, and you avert your eyes before more of the splattered blood imprint themselves on your retinas. even though this is technically still your house, you let leon guide you through it until you're sat at the kitchen table, watching him crush some herbs on a paper towel.
"i just moved here a week ago," you find yourself saying, trying not to cry again as you think about the safety of home; cursing yourself for ever leaving.
leon looks up from his plants, smiling sympathetically. "yesterday was my first day on the job."
tomorrow would've been yours. you'd been excited for your new job, but now you don't even want to imagine staying here if you even survive. you huff bitterly. "lucky us, huh?"
he laughs. "definitely."
apparently deeming his work complete, leon hands you the herbs after grabbing a handful for himself. you watch, a little stunned, as leon shoves it in his mouth and begins exaggeratedly chewing.
he gestures for you to do the same, and you hesitantly bring a bit to your dry lips, absently wondering if you're about to be poisoned.
fuck it. you throw the whole thing in your mouth, immediately wincing at the bitter taste but chewing the best you can. leon watches you intently, but doesn't comment.
"that'll make you feel better," he says and begins digging through a pouch on his hip. it takes a second, but he eventually finds what he's looking for - pulling out another knife.
you're already halfway to your feet by the time he's set it down on the table, looking at him fearfully. "please, i-"
leon looks between you and the knife, and his eyes widen. "oh, no- hey, i'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" he says carefully, showing you his hands, "it's for you, so you can protect yourself, it doesn't matter if you're not trained, it's better than nothing."
you're heart sinks at the confirmation of being left behind, that you'll have to fend for yourself from here on out. "oh," you say sitting back at the table, "okay, thank you."
leon smiles and goes back to checking through his various packs and pockets. "is there anything you need?" he asks. "you live here, right? maybe some other clothes or important medicine? i could get it for you, if you'd like."
his care only makes the idea of losing him worse. you shake your head, knowing you're being childish still. he's a survivor, he could give you tips if you weren't so busy pouting.
"we can probably find some later, don't worry," leon says and starts shamelessly raiding your cabinets. he pulls out the pack of wafers you bought the other day and stuffs it in a backpack you belatedly realize is your own.
maybe you should feel more scandalized by the daylight robbery, but you don't. you don't feel much at all, really.
leon disappears for a second long enough for you to worry but not outright spiral, since he left yours-now-his backpack on the table. when he returns, it's with one of your favorite hoodies in hand, along with a pair of trainers and some bandages from your bathroom.
he stuffs the bandages and the shoes in the bag, barely even batting an eye as he steps up in front of you and pulls the hoodies over your head. he gets some tape from god-knows-where and tapes several layers of it around your forearms and calves before you even have time to blink.
stunned you gape as he hands you the now full backpack and stands in the door, as if waiting for something.
"look," leon says after he realizes you aren't moving, "i know this is your home and all but we really gotta go..."
you furrow your brows, confused by the fact that he's even still here. "we?"
leon frowns and steps towards you. "yeah, we. what- i'm not just gonna leave you here."
"oh."
"come on." you startle at the sudden feel of a hand on yours, but quickly close your fingers around his, holding on tight. "it's time to go."
you nod, sticking close to leon as he guides you through the apartment complex and starts to show you the world, in all it's terrifying glory, again. it's scary and messy and half the time ou think you're going to die but at least you're not alone.
breathe, a voice says, familiar and supportive again. this time, you listen.
<3
psst- my writing asks are still open, go check it out if you have a request ;)
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taedros twodros
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part one: taedros taedros ☆ part three: taedros tresdros**NEW wc: 1.9k reader: femme afab (maybe just afab idk again lemme know if you think it needs/doesn't need a femme label and i didn't use any pronouns so?? but i'm playing it safe just in case) SPECIFIC WARNINGS BELOW CUT ~ MINORS DNI MATURE SMUT!! summary: after weeks of loserbestfriend!taerae eating you out and seemingly wanting nothing in return, you finally find out the reason and offer to repay his original favor... okay. i did it. don't say i never did anything for you. don't spend it all in one place. 💀 also yes i ai enhanced that pic but i had no choice. he's so lame i love him. y'all like the title? twodros. okay bye.
EXPLICIT SMUT BELOW CUT-- MINORS DNI!!
specific warnings: oral f & m receiving, p in v (riding), subbyyyyy taerae want to make that clear but also switch taerae, switch reader, cum play, virgin taerae oops, pet names, taerae's red sweatpants, calling taerae's pussy eating obsession an "addiction", literally no mention of condoms or bc idk you know that's not always a good idea in real life but also i'm not a safe sex authority do whatever you want babe just think about it first :)
~*...*~
pressing light, teasing kisses to your clit, taerae chuckles at the frustrated sounds you’re making for him. his being so annoyingly cute even when eating you out isn’t helping. god, you’re dying to get your hands on him.
you don’t know when you started feeling this way about your best friend, but in the last three weeks something had undoubtedly changed. what started out as a pitch for taerae to tame your curiosity had since seemingly turned into a game of how many times during your weekly “movie night” he could make you cum before you passed out.
spoiler alert: it was a lot. taerae ate you out so much, in fact, that you were actually starting to worry…
was taerae addicted to eating pussy? had you been unknowingly enabling his pussy addiction? were you going to have to stage an anti-pussy intervention?
help check him into pussy rehab?
“fuuuck,” you whine, fingers threading through taerae’s hair as the sudden feeling of his tongue fucking into you breaks your train of thought. you’d already cum twice but taerae has caused you to become so greedy.
even if taerae had some sort of problem… who were you to complain when you were reaping all the benefits of it?
a moan from taerae brings your attention back to him and you notice he’s already begun humping the bed just a few minutes in. the past two weeks, he’d become less and less able to hold himself back; rutting into his mattress while you came on his tongue for hours. 
you’d seen taerae like this last week and gently pulled him up to you by his shirt collar; salivating when you saw how hard he was in his joggers. your fingers hooked over his waistband as you looked up at him tentatively. you expected him to eagerly agree, but instead he’d just shook his head and returned his lips to your swollen cunt.
watching as taerae moans into you at both your sweetness and the friction on his clothed cock, you realize just how desperate you are to make him feel as good as he had been making you feel.
“taerae,” you say but he doesn’t hear you, eyes closed as his tongue laps at your folds. you tug his hair a bit harder to get his attention, repeating, “taerae?”
his eyes flutter open as he looks up at you--  pulling back from your pussy reluctantly. he runs the back of his hand across his chin, wiping some of your juices from his mouth. “what’s wrong, baby? everything okay?”
you shake your head. “tae...”
“what, baby?” he asks, pushing up on his hands and sitting up to dote on you. he places a hand on each of your knees, pressing kisses to the inside of each leg. “tapping out already? i know you can give me more.”
“tae, i--,” you whine at his words; sitting up a bit on your elbows. eyes falling to the crotch of taerae’s ugly red sweatpants he'd had since high school, the small wet spot you find sends a fresh wave of need to your core. “want you. want you so bad.”
“y--... you do?” he asks in utter disbelief. he blinks at you nervously; swallowing hard as he averts your gaze. “are you sure? ‘cause i can just keep doing this if you want--”
“do you really not want to fuck me or something?” you interrupt, pouting at your best friend. “you’re so hard you’re soaking through your pants, so i just thought that maybe you’d want to. but you absolutely don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“fuck, i want to,” he says softly, squeezing your knees as his eyes find yours again. “but...”
“tae,” you coo worriedly, finally closing your legs and climbing over to him. “is something wrong? is all of this too weird? maybe we shouldn’t have done any of this...”
“no, no, no! i like this,” taerae pleads, shaking his head quickly. he presses his lips together for a moment, clearly unsure of whether or not to say his next thought. “i--... i don’t wanna fuck this up.”
your brow furrows at the sentiment. “you’re not gonna fuck it up, tae.”
“i am,” he says, scrunching his nose up. “because... um. well. remember when i said i ‘wasn’t a virgin’?”
“OH MY GOD, I KNEW IT!” you shout; much to the horror of taerae. you take his face in your hands, squishing it up cutely. “why didn’t you tell me, you absolutely adorable little virgin loser?”
“i thought you’d make fun of me,” he huffs through the pout your hands are squishing his lips into. you unsquish his face; pushing his floppy hair back out of his eyes sweetly.
“you’re really fucking good at eating pussy, tae,” you compliment; his cheeks tinging red. “you had me fooled... is that the only thing you’ve done?”
he nods shyly. 
“well look at us,” you say with a laugh, poking at his dimples. “no guys would eat me out and all girls will let you do is eat them out.”
he sighs; blinking quickly through his embarrassment. 
“well i guess we can be done for tonight, if you want,” you say, starting to climb off of his bed when a hand around your wrist pulls you back. you look at him, the expression on his face telling you he’s as “curious” as you were a couple weeks ago.
“or i can help you out,” you suggest and from the way his cock twitches in his pants, you know he was hoping you’d say that. “if you wanna... see what it’s like?”
“mm. wanna see,” he evhoes softly and you’re surprised by how much cuteness is radiating off of him right now. you’re on top of him in seconds, finally kissing him for what you realize is the first time. his lips are so soft and responsive and when he whimpers into your mouth, you tug his shirt up and over his head and push him gently to the mattress; his head resting on his pillow as he looks up at you through lidded eyes.
situating yourself between taerae’s legs, you pull at the waistband of his stupid red sweatpants and he helps you remove them. his bulge is straining against his black boxer briefs and you begin to palm him through them to help relieve some tension. as soon as he feels the slight pressure, he bucks his hips into your hand-- whining for more.
“do you want something, baby?” you ask, squeezing a bit firmer. he nods frantically, placing his hand over yours to keep you there. you squeeze a bit too hard now and taerae seethes at the pain. “don’t get demanding. you’ll take what i give you.”
he nods again, eyes wide with understanding. “m’sorry. m’so--... oh my god.”
pulling taerae’s boxers off his hips and down his legs, you sink down onto your stomach-- both of your hands wrapping around the base of his cock as you lick a long stripe from the shaft to the tip.
his dick is pretty— even prettier in your hands and you’re dying to put it in your mouth. sticking out your tongue teasingly, you tap him against it and the whimpers that fall out of taerae make you feel a bit dizzy with power.
after playing around a bit more with the head of his cock, you take his length in your mouth— pressing down on taerae’s hips to keep him from bucking down your throat by accident. 
tapping the back of your throat lightly, the sound that he makes is both deliciously obscene and concerning. you really don’t want him to cum before you get to feel that pretty cock stretching your walls.
you pull off of him and the bratty whine from the loss of contact that escapes him only inflates your ego. “if you cum down my throat, you’re not gonna get to fuck me. is that what you want?”
taerae whines again, his hand finding the back of your head and gently trying to push you back down on him. you know he’s not actually being forceful— he just wants you to react.
as you smack his right thigh hard, the mesmerized look in taerae’s eyes is thrilling.
“let me take care of you, okay?” you soothe, sucking his cock sloppily in between words. “you’ve been so sweet to me, baby. wanna make you feel good.”
taerae nods with a whimper as you straddle him; grabbing the base of his cock to position under your entrance. as he feels you sink down onto him, all he can cry is, “oh my g— oh fuuuck."
“fuuuck,” you echo in aas your walls slowly mold to taerae’s size. 
“please, please,” he moans; clearly already out of his mind. “n-need you s-so bad.”
“you’ve got me, baby,” you soothe, a hand gripping at either side of his chest. “how does it feel?”
“pussy so warm,” he cries, a hand finding each of your hips and holding them tightly. “so wet, too. oh my god it’s amazing.”
you wish all the guys you’d been with had talked to you like this. the way taerae basically worshipped your pussy was intoxicating.
“baby,” you whine— starting to fuck yourself on his cock. you watch as taerae’s eyes roll back in absolute bliss.
it’s only a few minutes before his nails are digging into the skin at your hips as he warns, “fuck, i can’t. m’sorry i can’t— gonna cum, g'nna—.”
“you can cum, baby,” you allow, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips. he keeps you there for a moment, kissing you and moaning into your mouth until you pull back. “want you to cum.”
“fuck, i--. fuck, m’cumming,” he cries; hips bucking into you as he reaches his high. as he slowly comes down, he’s unintelligibly babbling, “pussy s’good, honey— wanna live in it oh my god s’perfect i could die…”
“ssssh, baby, it’s okay,” you coo, pressing kisses up his chest. “you did so good.”
“mmm,” he mewls, covering his face with his hands as his cheeks flush pink. 
“you’re gonna wanna see this, tae,” you reach up and remove his hands from over his eyes, letting one fall to his chest and pulling the other towards you. lifting up off of him, taerae hisses at the loss of warmth as his cock falls to his stomach-- still leaking slightly from the tip. 
“holy fuck,” he moans-- the sound turning to a light, disbelieving laugh as he watches both of your juices start to drip out of you and onto his balls. you bring his fingers to your core; coating his middle and ring fingers in the mixture and bringing them to your lips. you pop them in your mouth, sucking them clean as you see taerae’s cock twitch at the sight. “you’re so fucking hot-- i can’t take it.”
taerae sticks his fingers back in your entrance; this time bringing the liquid to his own lips. he pops his fingers in his mouth, exhaling with satisfaction at the taste. taking you by the waist suddenly and flipping you onto your back, he folds your legs to your chest-- granting himself full access to your pussy. he looks at you; the hungriest you’ve seen him yet as his focus returns to your messy, throbbing cunt. you whimper as taerae husks, “gonna clean you up.”
so what if he's addicted?, you think as he dives in again.
so are you.
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milkpup · 4 months
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。⋆ʚ♡ throwing it back for the blue
‹𝟹 nsfw! 18+ oneshot
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art creds: soy / twitter -> https://pin.it/6GKWjQW
ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ
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by cafekitsune
›› toji fushiguro x reader ›› 18+! f!reader/m ›› date published: 12/8/23 ›› 3k words
‹𝟹 summary:You're tired from exams, hoping to rush home and take a quick shower and sleep. Unluckily for you, you get pulled over on your way home by Officer Toji Fushiguro.
‹𝟹 fandom: jjk , jujutsu kaisen
‹𝟹 genres/warnings: police au, insults, dubious consent, power imbalance, impact play
‹𝟹 tags: police au, police uniforms, uniform kink, cop toji, rough sex, manipulation, coercion, people pleaser, public sex, sex on a car, abuse of authority, au - no powers, dubious consent, being called a good girl, praise kink, degradation, choking, spit / spitting, spit kink, face slapping, slapping, spanking, vaginal sex, dry humping, cunnilingus, hair pulling, breeding, vaginal fingering, fingerfucking, name calling, pet names, dilf toji, toji is his own warning, toji has a big dick
‹𝟹 notes: this story is originally posted on my ao3! hope y'all like it here too! i just wanna say that this is all fantasy. i am actually against cops but ima be real.... i still got fantasies lmfao X_X enjoy!
--
Throwing it Back for the Blue by milkpup
It’s finals week at your college. You had your last final of the week, and it ended late at night. Yawning as you’re driving, you want to get home as soon as possible. You silently curse yourself for living off-campus, it would have been nice to live at the dorms and have a short walk back. You valued your independence and freedom, however, and that is why you opted for a more expensive off-campus living arrangement.
You look at the clock on the dash of your car: 10:43. You just want to hurry up and shower, snuggle in bed, and drift to sleep. It wasn’t worth it taking the main highways, there would probably be lots of traffic from people going out on a Friday night. You take a less-used road, it won’t add much more time, and you could honestly make up for it if you went a little faster. Plus, cops don’t usually care enough to check out back roads.
--
Toji specifically chose this intersection because it wasn’t used as frequently. He didn’t want to camp out on a main highway, that’s more work, and for what? He always lived by the motto of working smarter, not harder.
He’s backed up on a street, lights of his motorcycle turned off. The abundant foliage and trees add more darkness, and it doesn’t help there’s very few street lights on these roads. Toji wanted to just take a break, smoke a cigarette, and wait until his shift was over. He already met whatever “quota” for traffic citations he was tasked with, he just needed to wait until he was off at midnight and could make his way back to his apartment.
He leisurely sat upon his motorcycle, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. He exhaled and watched as the smoke dissipated in the cool air. He clicked his tongue. He was slightly ticked off he hadn’t taken a patrol car instead. He usually used the motorcycle, but the brisk fall air was not pleasant against his uniform. The black button up hugged his muscles and body, he was glad he at least chose the long sleeve today. Although he had a bad habit of rolling his sleeves up anyways, constantly creasing and wrinkling his uniform. Thick but tight black pants with a gold stripe running along the sides provided him minimal warmth, however. The long black leather boots all motorcycle patrols wore made up for the inadequate coverage on his legs.
He groaned, feeling the cool air start to affect him. His moment of complaint didn’t last long as he watched a car run right through the stop sign in front of him. He clicked his tongue again. Whatever, at least it gives me something to pass the time. He quickly dropped his cigarette and snuffed it out with his boot, before turning his headlights and sirens on.
--
As you flew past the intersection, you saw red and blue flashing lights appear not too far behind you, picking up speed and getting closer.
“Fuck.” You groaned out loud. You were sure no cops would be there; why would they ever be there? They never were before. “This fucking sucks. I definitely fucked up.” You pulled over to the side of the road soon after.
The first thing you see as the officer approaches your window is how built he is. How taut his clothes are against his skin. You gulp. You feel like a fucking pervert, thinking these kind of thoughts in this kind of situation.
“Good evening, miss,” the officer greets you as your window finishes rolling down. “Do you know why I pulled you over tonight?”
You try to gulp again, but your mouth is instantly dry. You feel like a deer caught in headlights. In a way, you are. “N-no… officer. I’m sorry I don’t know.” You’re looking everywhere but this officer. You have confrontation issues in general, and a person with authority absolutely kicks your anxiety into overdrive. You’re sweating so much, you once read in an article to act like you don’t know why you’re being pulled over.
Toji clicks his tongue. “Little miss, you were driving exceptionally over the speed limit, not to mention you completely flew past a stop sign before I pulled you over. Do you understand how reckless that is?” You can’t see into his face very well with his helmet covering his head. You chose to look at his abdomen, but that’s not much help either.
“I-I understand,” you meekly stumble out. Your cheeks are flush, and you feel like you’re about to cry. You don’t want to get in trouble; you’re instantly apologetic for not being more careful.
Toji smirks. “Very well, license, registration, and insurance please, little miss.”
You shuffle around, pulling your bag into your lap. Grabbing your license and insurance card out of your wallet before reaching into the glove compartment to retrieve your registration. Your shirt hikes up a bit as you lean over to grab your stuff, and Toji takes this time to observe the scene. At least, that’s what he says he’s doing. In reality, he’s looking at the exposed skin from your shirt lifting and your leggings that hug your body. He licks his lips, thinking of an idea.
You move back up, handing him the materials. “Thank you, darling. Wait here while I run your information.” He says as he retreats towards his motorcycle. He radios dispatch, giving them your plate number and other necessary information.
He’s flipping your ID back and forth in his hand. He shamelessly takes a picture of it. He wants to remember you and where you live. Is it an abuse of power? Yes. And he fucking loves it. Your record is clean, tags are up to date, and the only thing wrong was your reckless driving this one time. He might just be nice and let you off with a warning.
He returns to your car, handing your documents over. He places an arm against the door frame, leaning against it. “Miss Y/N. I can tell you’re tired, and it’s probably because you have finals at the local university. I sympathize with you, and I’ll let you off with a warning this time. You have a clean record, and seem like a good girl who means no harm.” Toji smirks while looking down at you. You meet his gaze, feeling a wave of relief come crashing against you. You’re about to sigh with relief, before Toji finishes his statement. “However, because I’m such a nice guy willing to overlook a careless mistake for you, I need you to do something for me.”
You’re momentarily confused, as he’s reaching above his head to take off his helmet. His inky locks fall into place as his helmet comes off. He has vibrant jade eyes, piercing right through you as he looks down at you. “If you resist detainment, I will have no other option to arrest you. And we both don’t want that. So be a good little bitch and listen to me.”
Your heart is pounding so loud you could barely hear him telling you to get out of your car. “Step out of the vehicle, now.” You do not want to fuck with this guy, and you’d do anything if it meant you would still have a clean record.
As you’re opening the door and about to step out, he grabs your wrist and flips you around to pin you against your car. You can’t see much in the darkness, the only lights around to illuminate the area were his bike’s headlights and your car’s. He’s pressed up behind you, holding your arms against your back. His muscular and rigid body felt warm against yours. You couldn’t help but feel yourself getting wet as you could feel his hot breath against your neck behind you.
Toji was taking in every feeling of your body that he could. He spread your legs apart with his thigh, pushing against your core. You whimper as his thigh pushes against your cunt. You could already feel your juices soaking through your thin layers. Your black leggings didn’t do much to provide any modesty, he could see every curve and dip. He felt moisture as his thigh pushed into you more, and he had a cocky grin plastered on his face.
“Are you really getting turned on from this? Such a fucking slut that getting pushed against your car by an officer has you dripping already?” Your mind started spinning as he started degrading you. Your only response was a pathetic moan as he bit your neck slightly. He was leaving a mark on his toy for the night. It wasn’t going to be the last one he makes.
Toji groped your ass through your tights, feeling how soft and plush they felt. He felt his cock start straining underneath his pants as he pressed against your ass. Toji picked up speed and pressure, increasing the friction as he dry humped your ass. Your pants and squirming under his touch was a sight he could barely handle.
“Will you be a good toy for me, Y/N? I don’t want to get you in trouble, doll.” He muttered out as he kept pushing against your ass.
“Yes, sir.” You barely get the words out as Toji grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up. He tilts your head towards him slightly.
“Open, bitch.” You comply immediately, your cunt gushing more everytime he insults you. You’ve been used to praise your whole life, people taking care of you and treating you gently. But this? This was new and exciting. He spat in your mouth before pushing you against the car again. “Good girl,” he hummed.
“Strip from the waist down but leave your panties on, sweetheart.” He moved away from you, allowing you space to take your leggings off. You quickly removed them, tossing them back into the car.
In the time you took your leggings off, Toji moved to the front of the car. You finished undressing stood in front of him before he pushed you down against the hood of the car. He lifted your leg by the thigh, leaving one to support you and pushing the other on top of the car.
He spit on his fingers, moving them towards your already dripping cunt. “Tell me how this feels, doll.” He coos as he pushes one thick finger into your needy hole, pushing your panties to the side. You shamelessly moan as he pushes deep inside with his index finger. Toji immediately feels how tight your little cunt already is with just one of his fingers. He licks his lips devilishly, excited at the idea of stretching you out with his thick cock.
He adds another finger, and you already feel like you can’t take much more than this. He’s relentlessly fingerfucking your cunt as you’re pushed against your car. Your juices are dripping down his hand, as you’re panting and feeling your body heat up more.
He snakes a hand towards your neck, choking you as he pulls you up. “Do you like this, you little slut?” He asks you as he continues fucking your tight hole with his thick fingers. You’re too lost in the sensations to answer, a pathetic whimper the most you can manage. He pulls you by the hair to again, forcing you to make eye contact. “I asked you a question, didn’t I bitch? Fucking answer me.” He grunts out as he spits onto your face.
“It feels sho good, sir…” You slur your words. He’s fucking you with his fingers than any of the men you were with could do with their cocks. You’re already hooked, and he isn’t even fucking you yet.
He pulls his fingers out, much to your disappointment and groan of protest, before he licks his fingers and tastes your cunt. Fuck, she tastes fucking amazing. Little whore has a cunt that is just begging me to eat it.
He lights your other leg and flips you over onto your back. You can finally meet his gaze where you notice he’s staring at you like you’re his prey. He smirks as he drops down to his knees to be at eye level with your cunt. He normally doesn’t care for eating out the women he fucks, he usually only care about his own pleasure. But your taste, your moans, your body… they’re all intoxicating. And he would never pass up an opportunity for a free meal.
You feel his breath against your cunt as he approaches. He starts by kissing your inner thighs before reaching your core, where he gives a teasing flick of his tongue.
He looks up at you as you react, grinning against your pussy. He moves his tongue up to your clit, swirling around it. Your body trembles under his touch. He kisses and sucks your button, before giving it a gentle nibble. He wants to see how your body reacts whenever he does anything. Toji moves back down towards your tight hole, before he pushes his tongue inside. He rubs your clit as he tongue fucks your cunt, causing you to buck your hips against his face.
He moves back up to your clit, not wanting it to feel left out. He pushes another finger in your hole as he sucks your button. You moan profusely, feeling something build between your legs. You grab his raven locks and push him against your cunt more. “Please! Ah! I’m close-“ you stumble out as you feel yourself approaching the edge of pleasure. “More! Please! Fuck!!” You can barely get even one-syllable words out between your moans.
Toji fingerfucks you harder and faster, trying to get you to cum on his mouth. You whimper and tremble as you feel yourself being pushed over the edge, causing quite a mess. Toji is surprised, he didn’t realize you would be a squirter, but he laps up every last drop of essence as you orgasm.
He moves away as he reaches to unbuckle his belt. “Good girl… now it’s my turn.” You’re practically panting as he frees his cock from his tight uniform pants.
He moves towards you, lining the tip up with your hole. “You’re gonna take this like a good slut for me, right?” He deviously smirks while looking down at you.
“Yes, si-“ you begin to say. But before you finish, he bottoms out and forces his whole length inside at once. You yelp in shock, and a bit of pain. He’s exceptionally big, and the thickness is not helping either. He grunts as he stretches your tight hole. He lifts both your legs above his shoulders, pushing his body against yours. He has you in a mating press, ready to fuck you until you can’t even move after.
“You’re so tight, Y/N. Tighter than any bitch I’ve ever had in my life.” His jade eyes look down at you as he says that. Your walls clamp around his thick cock at the compliment, you get high off of being praised.
“Open, sweetheart.” Toji commands you once again, before he spits into your mouth again. This time though, he follows it up with the most aggressive kiss you’ve ever felt. He’s forcing every part of his body against yours, tugging at your bottom lip and biting it. He tastes the metallic essence, and feels his cock throb. You moan against his forceful kiss, while he fucks you hard and deep.
He pulls back until just the tip remains, before slamming back into your hole at full force. You moan at the action, feeling his cock hit your cervix. You’re sure he’s going to bruise you, but you don’t care. You wrap your arms around his neck as he drills his cock into your cunt.
He pulls his lips from yours, and spits on you again. He moves a cock to your neck, applying pressure that makes your head dizzy. You can hardly breathe, your head feeling lightheaded as he fucks you dumb.
“Your cunt is amazing, sweetheart. It’s perfect for me.” He coos as he releases his grip around your throat and allows you to catch your breath. Your moment of respite is short-lived, as he slaps your cheek, leaving a red mark. “I might have to make you my bitch from now on. I can’t stand the idea of someone else fucking this tight hole.” He smacks you again, and you look up at him through half-lidded eyes.
You look like you’re enjoying every second this goes on, and Toji notices it. He moves his hand towards your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit. He fucks harder into you, causing your eyes to roll back. “You like being a good bitch for me, huh? I already knew you liked being praised, so I considered going soft on you. But you’re actually a dirty girl who likes being degraded and used, as long as I finish it off with a bit of praise, aren’t you? You’ve probably dreamt of someone having their way with you, roughing you up, and insulting you.” He spit on you again, and you clamped down around him tighter the moment he did so. He rubs your clit more, noticing you’re approaching the edge as well.
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m gonna cum soon. I’m going to fill you up with my cum. Be a good toy and cum with me, sweetheart.” He fucked into you harder, increasing speed and changing the angle to hit your sweet spot more. “I’m gonna knock you up, baby.” The moment his words rolled off his tongue you felt yourself cumming harder than you thought possible. You had a death grip around his cock as you clenched down, trembling and shaking under his weight. The added friction and pressure sent Toji over the edge as well, as he painted your insides white with his thick cum.
You were both panting, trying to catch your breaths. Toji lifted a hand to your cheek and caressed it before kissing your forehead. “That was amazing, doll.” He pulled out from inside of you, adjusting your panties so none of his seed could drip out. He wanted to make sure you stayed full until you got home.
Toji zips his pants and buckles them back up, before reaching inside your car to get your leggings. He hands then to you, watching you get dressed in front of him.
“So, as per our deal, you are let off with a warning. Please understand the consequences of your dangerous actions. There won’t always be someone nice like me to let you off and get you off,” He finished as he smirks. You blush after hearing his words.
“Thank you, officer. I really appreciate it.” You respond back to him, meeting his gaze once more.
“I’m going to follow you home, to make sure you get back safely.” He grins. You smile back at him and thank him, before getting into your car. You won’t speed away this time.
--
‹𝟹 end notes: i hope you enjoyed it! feedback is ALWAYS appreciated! originally posted on my ao3! i post there more consistently!
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jhoneybees · 12 days
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Desire
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Hi!! Here's a sweet but also savoury fic that I might write a part 2 for🤭
Tagging: @elvisalltheway101 my doll🫶
Characters:50s!Elvis X Older!reader
Warnings/triggers: 5 year age gap (A/n: The fic is set in 1955 so Elvis is 20 years old and reader is 25)
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Elvis has always had a taste for younger girls and their chatty personalities but when his head did a whole 180 after laying eyes on a matured gal like you that is more quiet and not as chatty, he learnt what his real taste is.
His family knows you from living in the apartment next door and they adore how friendly of a person you are. His mama would often praise you during family dinners to his daddy and him which usually he would get embarrassed about her rambling on about girls that could be a potential partner for him but now getting to hear about what you said during a conversation you had with his mama, he didn’t say a thing.
Even though he sees you with his mama quite often, he doesn’t know a lot about you. He knows you came from a privileged family in Texas and when you graduated highschool, you moved to Memphis when you were 22 to have a fresh start into adulthood but that’s all he really knows from what his mama told him.
He finds you very pretty and your laugh and smile are so contagious but the thing that gets him almost trembling is how mature you look in those dresses you wear, it does…something to him.
Especially when he saw you from across the road as you were walking into the building complex you two live in, wearing that red halterneck dress with cherries on it.
His bottom lip just couldn’t help but fly in between his teeth, those damn curves are something else.
He’s had quite a big crush on you ever since you moved into Lauderdale Courts and for a long time he thinks he wouldn’t have the courage to confess to you because he’s scared that you might get disgusted and shut him down or go off telling his parents to scold him for having such feelings for someone that they look so dearly as a close family member so to save himself from that humility, he’ll just watch you from afar.
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“Nah, you guys can go on without me” his friends groan in disappointment, they asked him if he wants to go to a party with him but he’s already been to 5 in the past 2 weeks, he wants a break so with another shake of the head, he bids them a farewell and turns on his heel.
He hums quietly, he thought he would be running around Memphis for the night with his buddies for a bit of a laugh but he’s a bit disappointed to find out they want to go ogling at girls at a party over at someone’s parents’ house, knowing that the adults don’t know about what their kids are doing because of them being out of town.
It just leaves him the option of just walking back home and finding something interesting to do there.
As he walks along the footpath with his hands in his pockets and head lowered down, he watches as his shoes lazily scrape along the concrete. He sighs out of boredom, he’s bored so what could he do when he gets home?
Just then when that question pops into his head, his ears perk up to the sound of a piano. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he lifts his head towards the neon lit sign noticing he’s outside of a night club. Maybe he could go and have a bit of a listen to the music? he shrugs his shoulders.
Why not?
Quietly, Elvis scans his eyes around the dimly lit bar room, seeing only a few black middle aged ladies in their best attire, smiling and laughing with each other with dainty little glasses in their hands. It’s not as busy as he thought it would be.
Then as he hears a piano play again, he looks towards the sound and his breathing comes to a halt. You’re on stage with a microphone in your hand, he didn’t know you worked as a bar singer. He gulps as he sees you in that black sparkly cocktail dress and your hair flowing down your back. Good Lord.
Elvis shakes his head and realises he might be staring too much so clearing his throat, he glances around to find a seat.
He sits at a two person table and decides to keep his head lowered, he might embarrass himself somehow, he doesn’t know how but it’s better being safe than sorry but as Elvis presses his lips together, the gravity pull of your voice through the speakers just demands him to look at you.
Is he gonna be able to look away?
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen.. The song I’ll be singing for you tonight is a song that I have always called a favourite when I was little…and it goes something like this” you chime with a soft smile.
Oh that smile.
The piano starts the song off and as the bass soon follows after, the cheerful sounds of the song fills out the room. The first word you sing makes Elvis physically melt.
“I don’t want to set the world on fire”
You smile sweetly and the older ladies there cheer you on with “That’s my girl!” and “That’s right!”
“In my heart I have but one desire”
His eyes soften.
“I’ve lost all ambition, for worldly acclaim”
Elvis brings his arms up to rest on the table, grasping his hands together and looking at his hands to try to just listen to your voice.
“I just want to be the one you love…”
Oh your sweet fluttery voice
He really can’t look away.
As you sway your hips subtly and bring your hand up to rest on the pianist's shoulder, Elvis bites down on his tongue. Gliding across the stage you walk down the steps and onto the bar floor, Elvis’ eyes darting all over you from your jaw to your hips and down to your ankles.
He lets out a stiff sigh and leans back in his chair.
“I don’t wanna set the world on fire, honey”
You sing with a giggle, taking slow and elegant steps towards the bar where the other women are, yelling and giggling at your cheeky little smile.
Elvis’ hand twitching, he sighs again while he lifts his hand to drag down the bottom half of his face.
“I love you too much” you add, making the ladies whistle playfully.
Elvis doesn’t even notice how his leg is bouncing nervously under the table, all he can think about is his heart floating across the room to the palm of your hand for you to squeeze, break, just do anything with it.
“You see…way down inside of me”
His heart pumps loudly in his ears as you turn your head and look into his eyes, walking slowly towards him.
“Darlin’ I have only one desire….and that desire is you” His heart clenching in the softest way as you give him a happy smile, realising who he is.
The small thumps from your heels make him hold his breath, sensing you walking behind his chair, a shiver drips down his spine as you place your hand on his shoulder.
Feeling you bend down over his shoulder, he lets out a small breath through his slightly parted lips.
“And I know…nobody else ain’t gonna do”
His chest almost stutters as he breathes in, your soft, sultry voice sending ticklish waves into his ears and into his brain. Feeling your warm breath lingering below his ear onto his neck, his hands adjust over the center of his pants.
“Did you like that, Presley?”
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asherthehimbo · 6 months
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Outliving the stars | Choi San
synopsis: You've always felt a part of you was missing, the desire for something greater only being lessened when you were gazing at the stars. You know you lost something, someone, you just dont remember what, who. Maybe the astrology major your friend sent you on a blind date with has the answers.
Pairing: Choi San x Male!reader
Info: one shot, words(2.1K),
Trope: reincarnation, Immortal x mortal, hurt/comfort
Warnings: mentions of nightmares, anxiety, topic of death, suggestive jokes, it's said they have sex but no actual smut, injuries, birthmarks shaped like scars, insecurity, self scrutinizing, social anxiety, overthinking, talks of past lives
Song inspo: Burn out the stars - Bryce savage
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It was at times like these that you wished you could punch your best friend. Wooyoung was sweet, but you swear he had it out for you, sending you out on a blind date with nothing but a first name. Now you were standing at the planetarium entrance like an idiot waiting for someone you didn't even know.
Wooyoung had pesterd you for three weeks until you finally gave in. He kept trying to set you up with one of his classmates, and you were too tired to register what you were agreeing to. "Come on [Name], you can't keep being hung up on some mystery guy from your dreams. San, on the other hand is perfect, broad shoulders, an astrology major, rich, handsome face, smooth voice and he's kind" Wooyoung rambled on as you were sitting in your dorm, trying to finish the economics paper you had that was due on Friday.
"Do you want me to go out with this guy, or do you want to do so yourself?" You asked him, only receiving a pillow to your face as a response. Sighing, you looked at Wooyoung, who was taking up your entire bed. "If I go on this date, would you let me finish my paper in silence?"
Wooyoung immediately jumped up from the bed. "YES, OKAY YAY!I'm gonna go tell San you agreed! Oh! This is gonna be so much fun! SATURDAY 1PM SHARP, " Wooyoung shouted while jumping around before sharply turning on his heel to sprint out of the room, leaving with a shout of "WEAR THOSE CUTE JEANS I BOUGHT YOU!"
You only sighed, turning back to your paper and relishing in the silence.
You did, in fact, end up wearing the jeans he bought you, black baggy jeans with white stars splattered on them, matched with your red converse, and a red hoodie.
You did not want to be here, it was cold, people were staring (probably because of the scar on your face, a voice in your head told you, you ignored it) and you were craving a strawberry refresher. You guess arriving an hour early wasn't the best course of action, but you were up early, not being able to sleep the night before.
Dreams of your faceless lover had once again plagued your mind. It had been a common occurrence ever since you turned 10. You would be cuddled up in the arms of a man you could not remember, but you knew him. In a soft grass field he would be holding you tightly, you would both be watching the stars, you listening as he points out different constellations, these dreams were safe, they made you feel at ease.
But all too often, these dreams would evolve into nightmares, the same 7 scenes playing out. Your therapist had said it must have been a physiological way to deal with your own insecurities. The birthmarks that littered your skin had always looked like scars. You remember talking to her when you were 12. She said it was your brain trying to justify the marks, trying to create a story for them.
You believed her. After all, she knew better, but these dreams just felt so real, so vivid. You would hear your own heartbeat slow down and hear the cries of your mystery lover as he holds onto you. You could feel the tears dripping from his face onto yours. No matter what turn these nightmares had, they always ended with you dying in his arms.
You guess Wooyoung had been right in his concern, as your best friend he knew first hand the effect these dreams had on you. The nights you wake up gasping for air, vomiting out your dinner, clawing at your neck because something in your throat is burning. The times you're awake while your consciousness is still trapped in whatever nightmare you were experiencing. He had been there since the age of 10, he had been there.
You rubbed together the two sleeves of your hoodie, starting to feel more uncomfortable as time passed by. People were walking past, laughing, and giggling at one another. You wondered what was so funny, what were they all laughing at? Were they laughing at you? no, you didn't do anything funny, did you? oh, it's your face, right? Your face is funny, it's ugly, creepy, the scar covering your eye, one you did not deserve. A mutated freak born with scars that were not earned a fake, a- "[Name]?" A hand on your shoulder disrupts your anxiety fueled thoughts.
You turn around to find a black haired man, he's a little shorter than you, although his shoulders are broad. Jawline sharp, eyes as soft as a warm blanket on a winter's night, despite the intimidating structure of the man, his eyes, his smile, his dimples, he seems inviting, familiar almost.
He stands smiling at you, the arm he used to grab your attention is hovering awkwardly in the air, his cheeks are flushed, a pink matching one of the familiar drinks in his hand. "Umm, I'm San? your date. " he seems unsure of himself, but you find it cute, having to suppress a giggle so as to not make him feel bad.
You give him a small smile as you mentally thank Wooyoung for choosing someone good looking,"Nice to meet you, San." You nod your head at him as you shift your weight between your feet. You're being so awkward right now, but something tells you that San doesn't mind.
Despite your lack of social skills, the interaction itself does not seem awkward. Although you can feel something straining it, you brush it off to first date jitters. "Oh!um I also got us some drinks, Wooyoung said you liked strawberry refreshes, although I don't know if he was messing with me. He has a tendency to do that lately, but um drink?" San asks as he lifts up the hand, holding two drinks questioningly. His shoulders seem to tense as he awaits your reaction.
"Woo didn't lie, I do like Strawberry refreshers, thank you" you nod your head at him, his shoulders relax as he lets out a breath of relief, he picks up the pink drink from the holder in his hand and gives it to you. Your fingers touch for a moment as you take the drink from him and you jump back a little, San doesn't seem all that surprised, but he chuckles "Static electricity's a bitch, huh?"
You don't think that's how it works, but you laugh along nonetheless. It's weird as you walk with San into the planetarium. You don't like new people, don't feel comfortable around them, yet with San, it's different. You feel safe with him. He feels so familiar.
You spend the day following San around the planetarium, he excitedly points out constellations, and you swear the fake stars above your head shine dimmer than the light in Sans eyes. Somewhere along the line, your hand had been intertwined with his, as a precaution to not lose one another, you told yourself.
The date ends when the sky outside matches the one in the planetarium, a dark purple background with little specks of light twinkling above you both. The date lasted the whole day and you were having so much fun you didn't even realize, Wooyoungs gonna kill you for not telling him how everything went immediately but you can't find it in yourself to care about the headache your best friend will inevitably give you tomorrow morning.
That night, you sit on your bed, smiling down at the goodnight text from San, despite him having wished you a goodnight merely a few hours before when he walked you to your dorm. That night is the first night you sleep peacefully, no dreams of your mystery lover, no dieing, no waking up in a cold sweat despite it being winter. Nothing
Instead that night you sleep, cuddled up with the tiny red star plushie that San won for you at one of the planetarium games, you named her 'astéri' the greek word for star. Also, the exact name you put as your contact for the man who won her for you.
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Your relationship with San had been a fast development, one date, then two, then you start eating lunch together, he starts walking you to classes, he joins your friends and you on movie nights, he plays games with Yunho. San becomes a part of your life faster than you can imagine, and you don't even care.
It's on your hundred day anniversary, a hundred days of dates and hangouts, and obviously being together despite no official title, that San officially asks you to be his boyfriend.
It's an emotional ordeal. He made a picnic in his backyard, creating a fort where you could both lay down and watch the stars on the soft grass. It's summer now, much hotter than when you first met, you wear a red tank top. San has expressed his love for your collarbones before, and thinking back to the moment makes you blush.
He was a bit tipsy when he blurted it out, face flushed pink given the alcohol of the drinking game he had played with your friends earlier, the room was hot, filled with college boys and liquor, so of course you took off your jacket, San had started cheering, then giggling, talking about how much he liked your neck, your collarbones. You don't know if he remembers this moment, you hope he doesn't, it would save you the embarrassment.
San presents you with a necklace on the night of his confession, a black leather strap threaded through a red star that's rimmed with silver. On the back of the necklace, the name 'astéri' is carved, under it lies numbers which look like coordinates. You don't ask.
San slips the necklace around your neck, fingers trailing dangerously slow along your shoulders. You were scared at first, you liked San, loved him, as much as you trusted him, you were scared of what his reaction would be.
He may have seen you in strappy clothing before, but he's never seen the extent to which your birthmarks your scars cover your body. The worst of them were located on your waist.
Despite your hesitance, the way San looks at you after you agree to be his, after you agree to let him be yours, it makes you want to kiss him, let him embrace every part of you and let you do the same to him.
He looks at you like you yourself were the star and who were you to deny a mortal access to a celestial entity?
That night, you learn the true extent of San's love for you, the way he trails his fingers overy every inch of your skin, extra soft kisses placed on the marks littering your body, he's gentle almost as if he knows the phantom pains they bring you, despite you never having told him.
That night you and San become, you and San, under the stars. On the soft blanket he laid out in his backyard as the warm wind of summer nips at your exposed skin.
It's when you're lying down, breathless, in between San's arms that he starts talking, answering your question from earlier that night. The numbers on the back of the necklace, the coordinates, are of a star San bought in your name. He literally bought you a star and named it 'astéri'.
"You deserve the whole galaxy, and yet I do not have the power to retrieve it for you. This way, you can have a piece of the outer world, and it can have a piece of you"
You don't think you've ever felt so loved in your life. You had fallen for San so quickly, so hard. It's hard to imagine a time when he wasn't in your life, despite the fact that you hadn't known him long, everything with him just felt so right.
You were sure you were meant to be with San in every lifetime, meant to spend every moment of your life with him. When you told him this, it had been the first time you ever saw him cry, genuinely cry. It was as if your words affected him more than you knew. You're sure they did.
That's one thing you never did understand about San, he has told you everything about himself, but you still felt as if something was missing, a piece of information locked away, it was like he was guarding it, scared you would find out. He thought he hid it well, but you prided yourself on knowing people, knowing your boyfriend. You trusted him. He would tell you when he was ready.
You and San would watch the stars burn out together, watch the world fall in each others arms, protected by a love so pure that the only thing left in the universe would be you and San
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