#and sometimes I wish I had a completely flat chest | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justwinginglife · 5 months ago

Text

Can I Come Home?

1- I am so sorry in advance. My random thoughts do be wildin sometimes. 2- There are 2 endings for this, you'll know where it splits when you get there, a little choose your own adventure action, if you will. 3-This is the longest fic that I have ever written so I apologize for people with short attention spans like me. With all that being said, enjoy the fic (or don't, it's angst, so you probably won't.)

You and Soshiro were always close.

Close in childhood, closer as sweethearts.

You’d known each other your whole lives, and your sweet 16 turned even sweeter when he finally worked up the nerve to ask you out. You had always had a crush on him, but you never thought that the boy who had seen you in a bikini and snorted about your flat chest would ever be interested in you. But he was more than just interested; he was completely, irreversibly, and incandescently smitten with you.

When you started dating him, it became clear to you that he’d stored away every bit of information you’d ever told him. He remembered when you were 12, you said you’d always wanted a locket, so he strung one around a bouquet of peonies (he knew that was your favorite flower) and presented it to you when he picked you up for your first date. He remembered when you were 13, you told him you’d always wanted to ride on a hot air balloon, so for your second date, he took you out for a romantic flight at sunset, flower petals sprinkled across the floor of the basket. He remembered when you were 14, you absentmindedly made a comment about wishing you knew how to ice skate, so he learned how to skate for you and taught you how to skate on your third date. There was no doubt in your mind that you were going to marry this man someday. You weren’t sure how long it would take, but you didn’t care; you could wait for him.

When you turned 18, he solidified his love for you by gifting you a promise ring. By this time, you’d already talked marriage and cradles with him extensively, so you wondered what exactly he was promising you. Your heart was already his, you didn’t need a trinket to hold you over. But he wanted to make promises to you anyway. He wanted to promise you that he’d buy you a better ring one day, that when he joined the JAKDF he’d save his entire officer’s salary for the purpose of weighing your hand down with the fattest rock he could find. He wanted to promise you that he’d love you infinitely, that he’d love you overwhelmingly, that he’d love you every day of his life. And even when he turned 19 and prepared for the Defense Force exam, he promised that he’d carry you with him always, that your soul had left an imprint on his, and that even when faced with death, he’d be yours. The Reaper himself couldn’t tear him from your side.

Having fears about the lifestyle Soshiro was choosing, the lifestyle that would take him far away from you, that would lead him in the way of danger, you begged him to wait another year or two before joining the Defense Force. You knew you couldn’t keep him from his dreams forever, but you could stall him. You wanted more time with him, wanted any time you could get, any time he’d allow you, any time he’d spend safe in your arms, time where you didn’t have to be riddled with the worry that one day he wouldn’t come home.

So you pleaded with him to wait a couple years. To spend the time training you. You’d made the decision to go with him to join the force -you’d follow him to the depths of Tartarus and back if it meant you could stay by his side- but for now, you needed more time with him. And then you’d give in to his dreams when you turned 21. You’d let the Defense Force claim you both. And if he died, you’d be right behind him. So you begged him, begged him to stay. Just until 21.

You thought he might say no, thought he might run off and join anyway. After all, he’d been waiting for this since the day he took up the sword. But the Defense Force wasn’t his only dream anymore. You were his dream too. And if he had to wait a couple more years just to have you by his side when he joined up, then he would wait for you. He would do anything for you.

You spent long days and even longer nights training with him. Training until your limbs were on the verge of combustion, until your muscles reacted before you commanded them to, until your reflexes were honed to perfection. Your regimen was grueling but it was nothing compared to the thought of letting him die in front of you. You had to be stronger; no, you had to be the strongest. For him, you’d do it. And when you perfected a move or when your combat power increased, Soshiro would reward you with kisses over and over again, and you knew you’d die for him over and over again. Anything to protect his smile.

When the cruel hand of fate brought disaster to his door in the form of a crippling accident and Soshiro was grounded to his hometown, imprisoned in a cage, with his lifelong dream now out of reach, you felt you failed him. You couldn’t protect him from his fate. You couldn’t protect him from the emptiness, from the feeling of watching his desires slip from his fingers. It was your fault that he never got to join the Defense Force- you’d made him wait. It was your fault. Everything was your fault.

You almost couldn’t face him.

You watched lines of friends, of family, of neighbors file in and out of his house, offering their sympathies, offering their support in this hard time, offering gifts, offering flowers. But you knew he’d never “get well.” He’d never recover from what you’d done. From what you failed to do. He’d wasted so many promises on you, and you couldn’t even promise to protect him.

You wanted to atone.

You wanted to die.

You wanted to fade from existence.

But he wouldn’t let you. He kept visiting, kept calling on you, kept loving on you. He wouldn’t let his regrets become your regrets. He wouldn’t let you waste your life away, drowning in your bedsheets and your depression. He’d make you hear him even if you wouldn’t listen. He’d tell you that you were meant for more. That you had bigger things to live for than him. That he couldn’t wait to watch you take the Defense Force by storm.

He’d joke that he was sure you’d coerce your way to the top in no time at all, reigning over the JAKDF with terror. When you were unamused, he laughed. “I was just kidding, love, I know my baby’s a softie. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly. A kaiju? Different story. But a fly? You’d put a bandaid on its wings.” He teased.

And against your better judgment, despite his terrible jokes, despite his annoying persistence, because of his annoying persistence, you let him love you again. You let him forgive you. You missed him. You loved him. You loved loving him.

You thought you could keep going on this way forever. Just basking in his presence. Just stealing time from him wherever you could get it. Now that you weren’t training, now that he wasn’t training, you had endless hours to spend with him, just talking, just laughing. But then you got notice that this year’s Defense Force Exam was starting.

He wanted you to go.

He wanted you to leave him.

You wanted to stay.

You weren’t like him, you weren’t noble, you weren’t honest; the Defense Force meant nothing to you if he wasn’t by your side. You begged him to let you stay with him. You begged him to let you live and die with him.

But he simply smiled at you and said he believed in you.

And somehow, after kicking and screaming, after crying and pleading, you found yourself on the first train out of town. You found yourself carrying the weight of both your dreams, carrying the weight of your need to make him proud, both a burden and a beacon, slung across your shoulders as you made your way into unknown territory. You took heavy step after heavy step until you crossed the threshold of the Defense Force’s doors.

This was your life now but somehow you felt like you’d left your life back in your hometown. Like your heart only beat in Soshiro’s chest, like your air only contracted Soshiro’s lungs, like your blood only pumped in Soshiro’s veins. Without him, you felt lonely.

Distance had always been a stranger to you, having grown up next door to him, having spent every waking moment with him, and now that you were making its acquaintance, you thought you might just die.

You’d reach for his arms and find they weren’t there. You’d listen for his laugh, for his footsteps, for his singing in the shower, and find nothing but sadness in the silence. And when the shirts you’d stolen from him stopped smelling of his scent, you almost ran back home right then and there, barefoot, crying, running like a madman, running to get back to him. “Can I come home now, Soshiro?” you’d beg him.

But he’d always stop you. He’d tell you that you were so close to achieving everything you’d worked so hard for. That you couldn’t quit now. That you were strong, that you were fearsome, that you could endure the storm. That he believed in you.

When you passed the exam, you pleaded with him again. “Can I come home now, Soshiro? Let me celebrate with you, at least.” But he knew if you came home now, if you didn’t establish roots in the Defense Force, if you didn’t have anything to go back to, you’d stay home forever. You’d never leave. And he didn’t want you to quit before you’d started. So he coaxed you into staying where you were, used that sweet voice of his to murmur sweet promises to you, to promise you nothing short of the sun and the moon when you finally did come home, if you could just make it a couple more months without him.

Before you knew it, you were too busy to come home, even just for a day. You were too good at your job, too loaded up with work. Your heart was empty but your hands were full.

The only free time you had, you spent talking to Soshiro. You’d steal minutes from your schedule, sneak away for a mere moment, just to talk to him, just to drink in the sound of his voice. You’d tell him about your day. About a dog you met on the walk to work. About the bitch who worked in operations. About a new drink you discovered that you thought he’d like. About all the lives you’d saved. And he was proud of you. Not just for being a hero, but for being alive. For putting one foot in front of the other. For doing your best.

He tried his best to make you smile even if he couldn’t physically be there for you. If he was there, he would’ve poked two fingers into the edge of your lips and dragged them upwards, “See, this is how you smile. Can you smile for me, love?” And you’d weakly muster up some semblance of a smile, tears staining your cheeks, as you’d say back to him, “Yeah, baby. I can smile for you. I can do anything for you.”

Then, when you watched officer after officer die, when you scrubbed your hands raw to get the blood out, when you couldn’t smile anymore, you begged him again. “Soshiro… I’m tired. I miss you. Can I come home now? Please, can I come home now?”

“They need you, love. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay. You can do this, you’ll be okay.”

You’d hear his words and cry yourself to sleep and the aching in your chest would take up permanent residence inside you.

He must’ve known then that you needed more than just his words. He showed up the next day, peonies in hand. “Your favorite, baby.”

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the tears that were threatening to overflow. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”

He smiled at you. “Snuck in for you, baby. I’m not supposed to be here, it’s a secret, just between you and me.”

Suddenly the weight of the situation hit you, the baggage of everything you’d been carrying the last several months crashing into you like a wrecking ball. You’d never see your fellow officers again and you’d never see more of him than these few, stolen moments. “Soshiro, I can’t do this anymore.” You began to cry.

“Shh, shh. Don’t cry, love. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You can do this. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of loving. And I know my baby doesn’t give up. I know the wind and the waves would come if she called. You’re a force to be reckoned with, don’t forget that, love.”

“I don’t feel like a force to be reckoned with. I feel like a walking corpse, dead inside and yet not dead enough. Why am I here? Why am I living and breathing when so many of my loved ones are dead? Soshiro. Can I come home now?”

For a moment you thought he’d let you. You thought the pain in his eyes, the sympathy in his saddened smile, were signs enough that it was okay to give up, it was okay to go home. But you never got to hear his answer.

“Hey. Platoon Leader L/N. You okay? What are you doing all the way out here?” A girl with bright red hair bounded up to you. You thought her name was Nakanoshima? You had tried to keep everyone at an arm’s distance after all the rookies who’d joined up with you had died.

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and straightened your posture, “Just talking to my boyf-” You suddenly realized Soshiro had said that he’d snuck in and when you turned to him in a panic, scrambling to find an excuse, you discovered that he was nowhere to be found. “I mean my-myself. Talking to myself.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay…Well, the girls and I are heading out for some karaoke, would you care to join?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, thanks. I appreciate the offer, though.”

She searched your face for a moment. You almost thought you caught a glimpse of sympathy in her peachy eyes, but any trace of it faded when she finally shook her head. “Alright, well just know you can come anytime. See you around.” She waved and disappeared into the distance.

“You should’ve gone with her. I would’ve been fine.” Soshiro emerged from behind you.

“I don’t need her. I don’t need anyone else but you.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Baby. I don’t want you to be lonely up here, all by yourself. Make some friends. Have some fun. Live your life.”

You shook your head insistently. “I don’t wanna make friends. I don’t wanna have fun. I wanna come home. I wanna be yours again.”

He smiled at you softly. “You’re always mine, love. And I’m always yours.”

“So let me come home.”

He shook his head. “Can’t do that, dearest. But I’ll come visit you more, okay? I love you. Never forget that I love you. You’ll be fine, okay? I believe in you.” Then he disappeared without another word, leaving you empty yet again.

But he kept his promise. You should’ve known he would, he always did. At first, he’d come to your bedside in the dead of night. He’d lay there with you and you’d talk together until the sun came up and he disappeared again. Then, he started to visit during the day.

When he’d visit, he’d ask if you were taking care of yourself. If you were making friends. You’d tell him the same thing every time. But one day, Nakanoshima overheard you talking to him and when she came over to investigate, he nudged you towards her, whispering, “Make friends.”

You rolled your eyes at him but then grumbled to her that you’d like to join her the next time she went out. Her eyes lit up and by the time she finished excitedly rambling about how much fun you were going to have with her, Soshiro was gone again.

The next time he visited, you were in the middle of training. When you dropped anything and everything to run to him, you earned yourself some strange looks from the other officers, but you didn’t care. You were tired of pretending and tired of hiding. You wanted to be in love again. You wanted to be happy. And he made you happy, visiting you like this, with no more fear of being discovered, with public displays of his love.

And it made you happy to make him happy. When you told him all about your movie night with Nakanoshima, and your lunch date with Ashiro, and your shopping spree with Okonogi, he was extremely happy. You were finally living your life.

You thought you could find contentment like this, sharing time between your friends and your boyfriend, living the good life, fighting the good fight, but the dream ended in an instant when he visited in the middle of a battle strategy meeting. When you bolted out the door to greet him again, your friends began to worry about your state of mind. They’d whisper to each other about the man you’d run off to in the middle of training, in the middle of lunch, in the middle of dinner, in the middle of the night, and now in the middle of meetings. Wasn’t he the guy who got into that horrible accident? Wasn’t he the reason you’d almost forgone joining the Defense Force? Wasn��t he the man you almost married? This couldn’t be good for you, they’d tell each other. Clinging to a man from your past. Clinging to a future you used to dream of.

They had finally decided to have an intervention for you, when suddenly calamity struck the town. Another wave of kaiju was attacking in full force. Their concerns about your love life would have to wait; the entire city was now a concern.

You fought with renewed purpose, with a fire lit within you that they hadn’t seen since you’d first made Platoon Leader. You refused to let any more of your squad, of your team, of your friends die.

In a frenzy, you cleared out half the Yoju, and made your way to the Honju, entrusting the rest of the lower ranked beasts to your friends. The battle was long and arduous, your muscles tense and taut, as you fought for your life and the lives of all those you cared for.

You thought of Soshiro in the heat of the moment, wondering if he would’ve wrapped this whole thing up in a matter of minutes. But you weren’t him. You were just you. And for all your training, for all your combat experience, you found yourself weak when it counted. You found yourself struggling, your reflexes weakening, your state of mind crumbling, your body aching as you begged yourself to just be enough, to just protect somebody, to protect anybody, to be worth something.

So when you finally took down the Honju at great cost, your life hanging on by a mere thread, you were okay with that. You were resigned to death. You were grateful for death. You ran a finger over the promise ring that had long been worn out over the years as the light began to claim you.

In your final moments, you dreamed of the beach. Soshiro laid beside you in the sand. Your physical body was squirming around someplace somewhere in some patch of gravel, but all you could feel now was the sand beneath your back, the ocean lapping at your toes.

“I meant to take you to the beach.” He said finally.

“Well, we’re here now, silly. This is good enough. This is more than enough. This is perfect. Let’s just enjoy this moment.” You slipped your hand into his, interlocking your fingers as you turned to look into his eyes.

He shook his head at you. “Baby. You know you can’t be here. You know you have to go back.”

You put a finger to his lips. “Shh. Baby, I’m finally home. Let me stay home.”

He brushed his thumb across your cheek. “I’m sorry, my love. I wish you could stay. But you have people waiting for you. You have people at your bedside, praying for you to wake up, praying for you to come back. You finally have a life, love, so live it.”

You frowned at him. “I don’t have a life without you, what are you talking about?”

He smiled at you sympathetically. “Darling, you know that’s not true. You know I can’t see you anymore. We can’t keep doing this.”

Your eyes widened in fear. “No. No, don’t say that.”

He kissed your hand. “In fact, I don’t think I want to see you again for at least another 70 years, okay? Promise?” The tears burst from your eyes. “No, no, no. Soshiro, don’t leave me. Soshiro, don’t say that. Soshiro, let me come home, I want to come home to you. Let me be with you, damnit!”

“I love you. I’ll always love you.”

“Don’t say it like you’re leaving, don’t say it like you’re saying goodbye! Soshiro, don’t you dare leave me alone again! You promised you’d always be by my side!”

You woke up screaming.

You were in a hospital bed and Soshiro was nowhere to be found.

“Soshiro.” You called weakly. “Soshiro. Please.”

He didn’t answer.

You tried listening for him, tried searching for him, tried scrambling for some semblance of him, some part of him you could cling to, but he was gone without a trace. The weight of his absence dragged you into the depths of despair, and you murmured, “You promised me… you promised…” to yourself as a dark and deep sleep finally overtook you.

In the morning, you were surrounded by your friends.

Tae almost forgot you were injured and nearly smothered you with her affection.

Konomi yanked her off of you, scolding her when you winced from the pain.

Mina was the one who finally spoke. “I’m glad you’re okay. We weren’t sure if you were going to make it for a moment there.”

You were quiet. “Why… why did I make it? How am I alive?”

They shifted uncomfortably. “Honestly, we’re not sure. The doctors said there was nothing they could do to save you. Your heartbeat flatlined. You were dead. And then somehow you came back to us.”

The room filled with silence.

Then Tae spoke up. “Who’s this Soshiro you keep talking to?”

Konomi jabbed her in the ribs for her insensitivity, but she awaited your answer with equally bated breath.

You swallowed. “He’s my… my boy… my fiance.”

Tae stilled. “Your fiance… Soshiro Hoshina?”

Your brows furrowed at the sound of his name on her lips. How did she know his name?

She continued. “The same Soshiro Hoshina who died in that horrific accident all those years ago?”

Suddenly your lungs felt like they were collapsing all over again. Your skin had been set ablaze by her words and yet you’d never felt colder in your entire life. You shivered from the sweat that had started to form all down your body.

“No, he’s… he’s waiting for me to come home.” You said weakly.

Konomi sighed and rubbed at the crease on her forehead. “Dear, I’m worried about you. He’s… he’s gone. He’s been gone.”

The tears began to flow down your cheeks before you even registered they’d formed. “No, he’s not. He’s at home. He’s fine. He’s at home. He’s waiting for me. I need to go home. I need to go to him. He’s fine, he’s just waiting for me at home. At home. At home.” Every broken denial, every repeated word, felt like a knife carving its way up your throat. You rambled so much your throat went hoarse and you started seizing up. The doctors were called in before your friends could continue.

In the chaos of it all, you thought you vaguely heard Mina whisper to you, “Take as long as you need to heal. We’ll be here, waiting for you on the other side of this, no matter how long it takes,” before you blacked out.

You weren’t sure she understood just how long that would be. You weren’t sure just how long you could survive calling for him, trying to conjure him up in your mind again, and not seeing him appear. Remembering him hurt. Remembering the love you’d once had and lost, remembering the happiness you’d once had and lost, hurt. Everything hurt. But feeling like you were forgetting him hurt worse.

Would you remember what his voice sounded like in 20 years? Would you even remember it in 10? Would you remember if he ever had dimples when he smiled? Would you remember his favorite color?

Who were you if you weren’t his?

How would you ever find peace if you couldn’t ever go home?

If your home had been taken from you?

You woke up to the familiar sting of your tears burning trails down your cheeks again. You wondered just how many tears you had left, just how much could you cry yourself to sleep before you finally just drowned in your own depression? Would that be better if you drowned? Could you try to drown? Would it bring him back, would he try to save you again? If you tried to get back to that beach, would he be waiting?

You tried furiously summoning him again. You knew he wouldn’t come when you called, knew he wouldn’t answer your pleas, knew you were talking to nothing more than air, but you tried over and over again, your screams filling the silence with your desperation.

“Soshiro! Soshiro, don’t leave me! Soshiro, I need you!”

“Come back, Soshiro! Come back to me!”

“Soshiro, you promised you’d stay by my side even in death! Even in death!”

“I need you, please, I need you!”

You screamed and screamed until your throat bled, until all that was left of him, all proof that he ever existed, that he ever loved you, was the burning in your throat and an emptiness in your chest where he’d stolen your heart and left you hollow.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------If you like angst, stop here, if you don’t and you’re like me and you cried reading this, please continue.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your friends waited for you.

They waited and they waited. They waited so long, you weren’t sure you’d even still have friends on the other side of this. You weren’t sure there was another side of this.

But when you could finally sleep without having nightmares about the damn accident, even just for an hour or two, when you could finally walk down the street without your eyes darting everywhere looking for him, when you could finally breathe again without feeling like you owed payment for each breath, that was when your friends were there at the ready, waiting to take you into better days.

And when you could finally laugh again, even just a small laugh, and when you could finally smile again, even just a small smile, you knew Soshiro was smiling with you too, somewhere on some beach.

Sure there were times when you’d get swallowed up by sadness again, when you’d miss his touch, miss his voice, miss his presence. He was the love of your life and always would be. But you learned to love your friends too. You learned to love the blue in the sky and the green in the grass. You learned to love all the little things in life that he’d always loved.

Then, years and years later, you found that you were finally living the way he’d always wanted you to live: happily.

And when your time finally came to face death -70 years into the future, as you’d promised Soshiro- you greeted it warmly.

At the gates of heaven, there he stood, handsome as always, light shining all around him as though he were light itself.

And then he smiled.

“Welcome home, love.”

#soshiro hoshina #kaiju no. 8 #anime #hoshina #oneshot #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #han's library

146 notes · View notes

nightlyrequiem · 16 days ago

Text

Apples, Oranges, and Other Small Fruits

Valeria shows you just how attractive she finds you and your small chest.

╰┈➤ Do you have small boobs? Does it make you feel like less of a woman? Well, me too. I actually start tweaking because of it sometimes. My tits literally disappear when I take off my bra and turn to the side and it drives me mental. Gaining weight doesn't even help because at my heaviest my bra size never went above an A cup.

w.c- 1,816

Tags/Warning: WLW, Fem!Reader, Small chested reader (I'm talking pretty flat.), Self-Esteem Issues, Unhealthy Body Image, Reader Has Some Body Description, Smut, Use of a Dildo, TITTY SUCKING RAHHHH

🍎🍊🍋🍎🥝🥝🍎🍋🍊🍎

You stare into the mirror and feel disheartened at what stares back. You bought this beautiful red dress. With a neckline that dips playfully and a slit up the side of it. How excited you were to have it and wear it. However now that you're seeing yourself in it... you're disappointed. Upset. It's completely unflattering. Flattening what little curves you had left. You turn to the side and feel a heavy pit in your stomach. Going braless was a mistake because your boobs are nothing more than barely perceivable lumps. Not to mention the dress isn't entirely form fitting and turns you into a box. You feel like a little kid playing dress up in mommy's clothes.

Another beautiful piece of clothing that looks cheap and stupid on you. In a fit of anger, you rip the dress off of your body and throw it across the room. You look back at your almost fully nude form. Looking at your body with disgust and hatred. Embarrassed by the sight of yourself. You look like a boy. Thin and gangly, soft in all the wrong places.

You think of your partner, Valeria. It's hard not to compare yourself to her when you see her everyday. You always chalked up your small assets to your thinner disposition. The idea that you could only have one or the other brought you the illusion of comfort, but you'd always be reminded that it isn't true. You tried body positivity, but that never worked. Being told fancier clothes and dresses fit better on smaller chested girls only frustrated you, because you found you never looked good in them. Unless you put on a pushup bra, and even then, it was a difficult task finding one small enough to fit into. You always hear about more well-endowed girls struggling to find bras that fit but you also struggle. The stores you go to often don't have bras small enough for you - unless they're sports bras.

You give yourself a long hard stare. As though by willing it enough, your mosquito bites will grow. They don't, and you can't stand to look at yourself any longer. You angrily shut the bathroom lights off and walk into the bedroom. The carpet soft under your feet. The long, elegant curtains are closed, hiding the room from the night-darkened world outside. They flutter in the cool breeze from the cracked open window.

The bedsheets are welcomingly cool when you lay under them. Pulling them over your body to hide yourself from the world. It's not always this bad. But sometimes you're stronger than your insecurity.

It doesn't help being with Valeria. You hate comparing yourself to her and you feel guilty when you do, but you can't help it. You've conditioned yourself to pick apart all the parts of other women you wish you had. Comparison is the thief of joy and what an excellent thief it is.

A hand gently touches your shoulder, startling you awake. You didn't even realize that you fell asleep.

"Sorry, amor, didn't mean to wake you." Valeria murmurs, pressing an apologetic kiss to your bare shoulder. Valeria crawls into bed beside you, groaning tiredly and moving around to get comfortable. The thing about Valeria is that she's a good read of character. She doesn't need to hear your voice or even see you to know you're feeling down about something.

Her hand travels down your arm and searches for your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers.

"What's wrong?" She asks. Valeria has been gone all day. Busy with keeping her cartel under control and always on edge at the fact that she could be found out or killed at any moment. She's tired. No doubt wanting to just go to sleep.

"Nothing." You whisper back. You turn over and press close to her. Hiding your face in her neck and taking comfort in her familiar smell. She doesn't need to be bothered with your unimportant problems.

Valeria stays quiet for a few moments. Despite your best efforts to keep your unhappiness to yourself, Valeria can still pick up on it.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" She presses, voice hardening with concern.

"No." You reply. Wanting her to drop it. Despite the very real distress the size of your chest causes you, you still feel silly for being so upset about it.

"Something happened." She murmurs. Valeria runs a hand down your back.

"... I'm just having a moment, don't worry about it." You reply.

Valeria sighs.

"Talk to me about it." She says quietly.

You hesitate. "It's about my chest." You say reluctantly. Saying it out loud makes you feel juvenile and silly. Valeria doesn't laugh at you or mock you though. She caresses your lower back gently.

"What's wrong with it?" She asks you.

"You know what's wrong with it." You reply. This isn't the first time you've felt insecure about your chest and it's not the first time you've complained about it.

"You think it's too small." She says.

"It is." You frown. "I'm not built like a woman. I don't look like a woman." Now you feel freshly upset about it.

Valeria rolls over and fumbles around her nightstand, turning on the lamp and chasing away the shadows. She looks back at you again, shoulders relaxed and dark eyes half lidded.

"Let me see." She hums. Gently sitting you up and turning your face this way and that. "Hm. Yes, yes." She mumbles. "Looks pretty feminine to me." She remarks. She moves her hands over your shoulders and under your breasts, pushing them up. "These look pretty womanly to me as well."

"I get it." You mumble, face warming with embarrassment. Though her words do help reassure you a little bit.

"Do you?" She asks, raising a brow at you. Valeria shuffles closer to you, holding your face in her hands. "Do you understand that you don't need big breasts to be a woman? Is an apple any less delicious because it's not as big as a watermelon?"

Valeria's eyes twinkle in the low orange glow. Glittering with desire and sympathy. She closes the distance and captures your lips in a soft kiss. Molding her lips to yours. You close your eyes and relax. You still find it difficult to believe that Valeria is completely satisfied with the size of your breasts. How could she be when you aren't? But she has no problems with palming them sensually. Pawing at you like a cat making biscuits. She seemingly has no issues getting turned on either as her breathing gets heavier.

She breaks the kiss to kiss down your jaw. Taking her time and savoring your skin. Valeria runs her fingers over your hard nipples and sucks hickeys into your throat. Huffing and moaning like she's the one being touched. She moves down and kisses one of your breasts lovingly. Palming and squeezing the other one. alternating between the two.

"I can't get enough of you, amor." She breathes. She wraps her lips around your nipple and sucks, making you arch up into her mouth. She doesn't let up. Giving your chest hickeys to match your neck. She tugs and pulls your nipples, giving them equal attention.

You twitch and breathe heavily. Wrapping your arms over her back. After thoroughly coating your breasts in her saliva she moves off of you and sits up. She rummages around in her nightstand withdraws a dark coloured, phallic toy.

"Take off your panties." She murmurs. Waving the dildo at you. Without needing to be told twice you remove your underwear and kick them away.

Valeria grips the base of the toy in her hand and holds it to her lap, her free hand beckoning you over to her. You crawl over and hover over her lap, the tip of the dildo prodding your wet entrance. Valeria shifts the both of you so that your chest is right in her face. With a hand on your shoulder, she slowly lowers you onto the toy. Your walls stretching to accommodate it. You put your hands on Valeria's shoulders to aid you in riding. Valeria watches your chest with heavy interest. Enjoying the minor bouncing of the fat. The harder you go the more they do so. Much to the pleasure of Valeria.

You moan as you grind yourself down onto her lap. She can feel your arousal dripping from the base of the dildo and onto her hand, slickening her grip on it. She grabs and squeezes at your breasts with her free hand.

"Do you still feel unworthy?" She asks, squeezing harshly when you don't answer and making you yelp.

"No." You gasp. Not at the moment, anyway. Truth is, it's going to take more than some special attention to your breasts and an orgasm to heal these deep-rooted insecurities inside of you. But temporary relief is better than never, and you couldn't be more grateful for Valeria's care and patience with you.

"Tell me how beautiful you are." She murmurs. "You don't get to cum unless you do."

"I am beaut-" You sigh. "-beautiful."

"Good girl." She coos, giving your lips a quick peck. You take that as permission to finish yourself. Losing all sense of rhythm in order to achieve that climax. Cumming is the only thought you have.

Your walls squeeze around the toy and you lean down, sinking your teeth into Valeria's shoulder. A whine builds up in your throat and you let go of her. You pull yourself off of the dildo and lay down. Coming down from the high. Valeria tosses it onto a pile of dirty clothes and lays down beside you, stretching out an arm and pulling you closer to her, nuzzling her face into the side of your warm neck.

"Watch what you say about yourself." She whispers. "I don't tolerate anyone talking bad about my partner and you won't be an exception. You're a beautiful woman and I couldn't be happier to be waking up and coming home to you everyday. You're gorgeous and alluring and I lose my breath every time I see you." She murmurs.

Valeria closes her eyes and not long after begins snoring quietly. She's always been a heavy sleeper, so you peel yourself away from her and get out of bed. Walking over to the lonely, discarded red dress. You grab it and slink off to the bathroom. Pulling it over your head and looking at yourself again. Your boobs don't look any bigger than the first time you put it on, but it doesn't bother you as much. It's cute. It's chic. Your body was the standard in the 1920's, and while it's not the 1920s, it still means something. this shaky admiration for your figure won't last, you know, but maybe someday you'll be able to love your body like Valeria loves it.

#valeria garza #valeria garza x fem!reader #cod mw2 #modern warefare ii #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #valeria garza x you #cod #lesbian valeria #lesbian

74 notes · View notes

mudisgranapat · 1 year ago

Text

Civilian!Reader X ToxicBF!Simon (Part 2)

Word Count: 2,9 K

Content: Toxic and manipulative behaviour, mention of blood, swearing.

Part 1

When Johnny invited you to the bar that day, you were reluctant to go. Even though you could use the night off, the mere thought of seeing him paralyzed you in fear. Two weeks ago, Simon came to your flat to keep you company. The two of you had ordered takeout and eaten it while you talked about your life. Simon was always so attentive, his eyes looking at you with pure worry and care, and it made your insides twist every time you felt yourself under his gaze.

Your whole life you had wished, dreamed, ached for someone to look at you the way Simon did. But at the same time, it felt like a paradox. Simon saw you, but he didn’t see you. You knew he didn’t feel the same way about you because Simon Riley never needed anyone. Not only did the two of you have nothing in common in terms of lifestyle, you also had completely different expectations for a romantic life.

You wanted someone to live a movie romance with, someone who would crave you just as much as you did them. A man who was rough around the edges but melted when it came to you, fighting off the whole world while holding you tight to his chest. And every time you looked at Simon, it was a sour reminder that you had all you ever wanted within arms reach, but were never able to grab it.

He was from a different world, where people were tough, solved problems with their fists, and faced their fears with all their might. Someone as strong as Simon would never go for someone as fragile as you. What could I ever give him? The question would pound in your head when you felt lonely, a reminder that you had nothing to offer but timid confessions and a feeble mind. But even knowing that, you still came back to him, because he was the silver lining on your cloudy days.

So you tortured yourself, over and over again, spilling your guts out to him over tea, movies, and walks in the park, entertaining the idea that he needed those moments as much as you did, only to come back to the darkness of your flat and coldness of your bed. Alone.

You found yourself whining about your problems again, that fateful day, two weeks ago. It wasn’t uncommon for Simon to go to your house to comfort you, and instead of dismissing the pity party, you would bake the cake and provide the entertainment. Sometimes, Simon would get a phone call or a text, but he never stopped your rambling to pick it up, opting to quickly look at the name on the screen before putting his phone on silent.

Until that day.

You had been talking about your coworker, who you were sure was stealing your pens, when he said “Hold on, I have to take this”. Amidst your shock and neglect, you managed to capture a name on the screen of his phone. Sarah. You could feel the knot forming on your throat, while simultaneously feeling like you were about to throw up all the food you had just eaten. Fucking Sarah? Who the fuck is she? A party wrecker, at least. Setting in flames the walls of the scenario you had built. This wasn’t a date, it was a favor a good soldier did for the helpless girl he met. You were hopelessly attached to him like a leech on a vein, feeding from another being’s nurture, just to be pulled without courtesy from your shelter and chucked to the side to rot under the scolding sun.

The longer he spent on his phone, the more visible the tethers that united the two of you became, and with each laugh he let out, the weaker they became, falling on the floor like loose and meaningless strings. That day you realized you needed to stop this parasitic relationship before it got worse. The two of you were just friends after all, yet there you were, wanting to rip your hair out every time you heard the other woman’s voice coming through the speakers on his phone.

Your luck hadn’t been good lately, in fact, it had become increasingly worse since you started ignoring Simon, two weeks ago. You couldn’t deny that talking to him was like having someone take all the weight off your shoulders, but it was time to be a big girl and move on. You needed to learn how to live without him and deal with your own problems, instead of dumping them on someone else. Besides, alcohol was always a good friend when times were bad, and you knew you could never say no to going out with Johnny, especially because he always paid for your drinks.

So you put your best clothes on, styled your hair, and did your makeup. That way, even if you saw Simon, you wouldn’t look like a complete loser, even though you had been soaking alone in your own misery all this time. Your problems were piling up throughout the day, resting above your bed during the night and avalanching you in the morning, now that you didn’t have Simon to magically make them go away. So, if you were to start dealing with your problems by yourself, facing him should be on priority on that list. It took all your strength not to cower and go back under the comfort of your covers, but you put your high heels on and made your way to the bar.

You took a breath to calm yourself down before opening the doors of the bar, not giving yourself time to change your mind and… Oh, how you regretted your decision the moment you walked in and saw Simon sitting at the table, a glass of whisky on one hand and a woman’s waist on the other. But it was too late to turn around because a certain Scot had already seen you.

“Aye, lass! Over here!” He said, bearing a smile so wide you could see all his teeth. “I told ya she would come.” He turns to Simon for the last sentence.

Simon takes a sip of his glass, hiding the small smile that escaped his lips, visible due to the small folds he had made on his mask in order to place it on top of his nose. But he knew you would come. He had dealt his cards carefully so that he could safely bet on your return to him. He wraps his arms tighter around the other woman’s waist as you approach their table. “This is Sarah”, he introduces her to you. “She’s a Sergeant.”

You want to barf at the sound of pride in his voice. It doesn’t help that the woman in front of you is gorgeous, exactly the type you knew Simon would go for. You can see her defined muscles under her shirt, and her impeccable posture. She has a tall pint of Guinness on the table in front of her, and a small scar on her left eyebrow that somehow makes her more attractive. The tone of her voice is confident as she introduces herself to you, making an effortless conversation the whole night. Not only that, but she makes Simon laugh. You feel yourself wanting to jump across the table and grab her by the neck, even though she would probably knock you out before you even made it to her side.

Simon watches you with silent joy, noticing the venom that seeps from your mouth with every smile you make toward Sarah. He can sense the longing in your voice when you talk to him, desperate for his attention, and it’s like music to his ears hearing you after so long. He knew it would be a hard couple of days, or however long you could handle without talking to him before falling back into his arms. It was a risky game that he had played with excellence - leading you to believe you were in control of the situation, choosing to distance yourself from him. It was all calculated, letting you see Sarah’s name on his phone, telling Sarah you would be free to call at that time when he knew he would be with you. It had hurt him to see your suffering, but he needed you to walk away to realize how much you would miss him, and he could see that it had worked. Every crumb of attention he gave to you now was like watching a drug addict relapse into their first high.

The jealousy that seeped from your pores was the best part, he thought. It was a result of pure, unaltered desire, condensing into spikes on your skin that you mentally flicked into Sarah’s direction. Watching his innocent girl fight the urge inside her to go ballistic was a delight. Because you were his girl, even though you didn’t know it yet. He sat comfortably in his chair like he was in a movie theater, spectating from the front row all the conflicting emotions that you screened on your face.

“I’m going out for a smoke.” He said after some time, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket. He didn’t have to look back to know you were following him, probably after delivering some bullshit excuse to the table. He welcomed the fresh air outside the bar and walked to a corner, your footsteps following behind him. He lit his first cigarette as you approached him. “Smoking now?” The humor is clear in his voice, but you don’t fall for it.

“Started last week. Not that you would know.” You say a blatant lie, holding out your open palm for him to give you a cigarette.

“I don’t know what this fuss is all about.” His tone is dismissive, knowing where the conversation was heading so he acted like you were making a situation out of nothing. “You’re the one that started ignoring me for no reason.” He gives you a cigarette and you take it to your mouth, both of you fully aware you don’t smoke. But you’re not backing out of any challenges tonight, so when he lights it, you take a long drag of smoke, holding it in your lungs for a few seconds before letting it out.

“How long have the two of you been dating?” He laughs at your question, shaking his head while he takes a drag of his cigarette. “How long?” You insist.

“You really think that I would date her?”

“That’s exactly the type I think you would date.”

“Really? How so?” He’s in front of you now, centering you between him and the wall. He smiles sarcastically while he turns to blow the smoke away from your face, acting like this is all some joke.

“Beautiful, strong, same job as you…” You trail off, fidgeting with the cigarette on the tip of your fingers. “The list goes on.”

“Does it? It seems like a pretty short list to me.” He shrugs, and you can’t help but notice how his muscles flex under his shirt. “How have you been?”

You scoff at the sudden change of topic. “Like you care, Simon.” Deciding you’re done with the conversation, you drop your barely smoked cigarette to the ground, using your foot to put it out, a motion you’ve watched Simon repeat a thousand times. Whenever he smoked, he always made sure you were okay with it first - and if it were anyone else, you wouldn’t be, as you loathed the smell of nicotine. But with him, it was different, everything was. You would watch as his arms flexed, the details of his tattoo poking out from his sleeve as he put the cigarette in his mouth. Hypnotized by his lips, you would try to be discreet, observing the smoke dissipate in the air when he exhaled, dreaming of what his mouth would taste like if you were to kiss him at that moment.

Before you can leave, he puts his hand on the wall at the same height as your head, caging you with his body. You hold your breath, wide-eyed, looking up at him in surprise, as he disposes of the cigarette with his other hand.

“Of course I care.” Simon loved catching you by surprise, relishing the look in your eyes as you waited for his next move, completely frozen. He adored how you surrendered all control to him without ever noticing it, inert until his gestures gave you permission to move. It was almost like a dance, as you helplessly waited for him to guide you into the next step.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand, taking time to observe each feature as he let his hand follow down your face, finally landing on your lips. Resting his hand on your chin, he runs his thumb over your soft lips. He wondered what your lips would taste like if he were to kiss you at this moment.

He could see the rapid movement of your chest, your sweet heart thumping under your ribcage. You dry-swallowed as you tried to calm down your breathing, fear mixing with lust in your veins as you came to the realization of how much power Simon had over you, not just physically, but emotionally. You knew then that there was nothing you wouldn’t do for another chance to have him touching you like this again, so delicately, so intimately. You couldn’t care less if he were to kill you right now, it would have been worth it just for having him look at you like you were the only woman in the world.

“Stop lying to me, Simon.” He hadn’t even kissed you, yet you knew no other man would ever make you feel that way. You wanted to hate him for leading you on, for listening to you like no one else ever had, knowing it didn’t mean the same to him. But you couldn’t, because this one-sided relationship had been all you had thought about since the two of you had met.

“Lying? Love, why would I ever want to lie to you? Do my actions not speak louder than my words?” He asks with fake innocence, knowing well enough that you didn’t know about his actions. A good girl like you could never imagine all the things he had done, all the work he did in the shadows, covered in blood and gunpowder so you could sleep safely at night. So he could come back to you with peace of mind, knowing he got his hands dirty so you wouldn’t have to.

“I can’t do this.” You’re talking to yourself at this point, confessions slipping from your lips in the heat of the moment. “I kept lying to myself thinking that I would be okay with you being with another girl, but I can’t Simon. I can’t handle the thought of sharing you with someone else.”

“You are so oblivious.” He says, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you. His hand moves from your chin to the nape of your neck, intertwining his finger with your hair and softly pulling it, securing you in a firm grasp. “You really think it’s been the Universe solving your problems all this time, huh?” He chuckles, clicking his tongue. His other hand moves down to your waist, grabbing it with a firm grip as he presses you against the wall. “Let me give you a hint. The Universe didn’t beat your bloody ex-boyfriend into a pulp.”

If your eyes could have physically widened more, they would have. Your mind is brought back to the day Simon showed up at your flat at 5 am, his fists bloody and covered in bruises. He had told you it was from a bar fight and you believed him. You had taken him to the kitchen, where he sat on the isle while you positioned yourself between his knees, wet cloth in hand. You took care of his bruises and washed the blood off his hand, not realizing until now it was your ex-boyfriend’s blood. You fell asleep on the couch with Simon afterwards, while you ran your hands through his hair and told yourself that whoever he had hurt must have deserved it. When you woke up to your friend calling you to deliver the news that your ex was in the hospital, beaten beyond recognition, Simon shushed you and convinced you to go back to sleep in his arms.

It made sense now, why sometimes the coffee shop would charge cheaper for your order because of the “skull guy”, but with the owner’s thick accent, you didn’t think much of it, assuming it was a foreign word for “deal” or “promotion”, sipping your coffee mindlessly as you left the shop.

Not even when your boss made the sign of the cross and muttered “ghost” every time he crossed your path did you ever realize it had been Simon pulling the strings all along.

When you think back to every problem you had told him about, only to wake up to it magically solved, you finally notice that Simon had been looking out for you all this time, not ever worrying about getting credit for his deeds or the consequences they could ever cause him.

“How could I not care about you, princess? I would kill for you. All you have to do is ask”.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #toxic ghost #nella writes

148 notes · View notes

theemporium · 2 years ago

Note

yes please, I love ur Remus stories <3 maybe write about him and reader having a fight but the other boys kinda agree that she's right and remus getting mad at them too? idk if u understand what i mean haha but a happy ending ofc

thank you for requesting!🖤

You and Remus didn’t fight often, not really.

You had the odd squabble here and there, the ones that didn’t really mean anything and would usually end with the both of you laughing it off. Or the ones that were so stupid that you’d go a few hours not talking to each other before realising just how dumb you both were.

But it had never been this bad. And it had never been in front of an audience either.

“He’s gonna come around, bug, just gotta give him some time,” Sirius murmured as he slumped down onto the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Is he though?” you whispered, the thought that had been plaguing your mind for the last few days and saying it out loud only made the pit in your stomach deepen. “He hasn’t spoken to us in three days, Sirius.”

“He’s just a stubborn git sometimes,” Sirius assured you with a soft squeeze to your shoulder. “He needs some time to realise that he’s wrong. He’s gonna come back to us, bug, I know our Moony.”

“I’m just worried,” you admitted, your chin tucked against your chest as you stared down at your hands, picking at the skin around your nails before another hand reached over to bat your fingers away.

“We are too,” this time it was James who spoke as he settled on the other side of you, flashing you a smile that made the tightness in your chest ease a little. “But he’s a good egg, even if he is a bit emotionally slow sometimes.”

In all honesty, you couldn’t remember exactly what the fight had been about. It started off as a conversation about the full moon and Remus’ safety, and it ended with you two yelling at each other from across the room before he stormed off after Sirius and James stepped in, backing you up.

He didn’t return to the flat that night and you heard from Lily that he had crashed at Mary’s place for the time being. You were happy he was safe but you wish he was home, you wish he was with you. Sleeping in your bed alone only further set you on edge and the fact the house seemed so empty didn’t help.

It was why the two boys had been hanging around as much as they could. You knew exactly what they were doing, even if they didn’t say it out loud. But you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

“What do you feel like for dinner today?” James asked as he reached for the pile of takeout menus lying on the coffee table. “It's your turn.”

Sirius frowned. “I thought it was my turn?”

“Yeah but you’re gonna choose something weird,” James grumbled, narrowly avoiding the attack when Sirius leaned over to smack the back of his head.

You laughed. “Both of you are actual children, I—”

But you cut yourself off when you heard the door lock turning.

In an instant all three of you were standing, the boys taking a stance in front of you with their wands drawn and ready, only to pause when they noticed it was Remus walking through the door. Remus, with heavy bags under his eyes and a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand.

“Hi,” he whispered, taking in the sight of his two friends before his eyes fell on you.

“Hey,” you whispered back with a timid smile.

“Uh, we’re gonna go!” James suddenly announced as he slapped his hands together. “Isn’t that right, Pads?”

“Very right indeed, Prongs!”

If it weren’t for the werewolf standing a few feet away from you, you would have found the sight of two grown wizards scattering and rushing towards the door quite amusing. But your attention was completely snagged on your boyfriend.

“Let me just get this out before you say anything,” Remus quickly spoke up before you could even open your mouth. “Please.”

You nodded for him to continue.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered out as he began to walk closer to you. “I am so fucking sorry for being an idiot these past few days. I am sorry for having my head up my ass. I am sorry that you just cared about me and my safety and I freaked out on you.”

His eyes never left yours as he stopped a few inches in front of you, letting out a shaky breath. “I guess it’s still hard for me to remember that I have people who care about me and accept me. That I have someone like you who loves me unconditionally.”

“Even when you’re being an ass,” you added with a soft smile.

Remus grinned. “Even when I’m being an ass.”

“I just want you to be safe,” you murmured softly, almost as if you were scared to kick off the argument all over again.

“I know, I’m sorry I freaked out,” he muttered as he placed the flowers down gently before taking your face in his hands. “I love you and I would have done the same for you.”

You leaned into his touch. “I love you too, Lupin.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he said with a sigh of relief before he leaned down to kiss you.

“Be honest,” you muttered against his lips. “Did Mary kick your ass when you told her the whole story?”

Remus snorted. “Big time.”

Your grin widened. “I knew I loved her.”

795 notes · View notes

yviqq · 10 months ago

Text

jason todd || stake outs, they never really... work

i.e. jason peter todd brain rot hit my brain in the middle of the night when i had an assignment to complete (the assignment was never completed) with this song on REPEAT.

warning: this fic was an oc insert, the only thing changed was the name (or lack of... i suppose) !!!

afab!reader, she/her reader, reader has unnamed boyfriend, reader cheats on said unnamed boyfriend, a lot of f bombs, this is unfinished, stops just when they bouta...

“I didn’t know your eyes were so green,” she mumbled, almost incoherently as her nail graced his cheekbone like it never left, “Like… Deep green.”

Jason doesn’t need a mirror to know his ears are already doing the thing where they’re all flushed, he can feel in the way his breaths stop at that point in his throat, feel it in the way his heart starts stuttering against her hand on his chest. Fuck.

He fidgets underneath her, hands flat on the floor of his van as he tries to sit up, “They’re not— Well sometimes they are… Just… Could you get off me? ... Please?”

Her eyes flicker (and God he wished he didn’t notice the way they wander his body to his lips) before her hand leaves his chest, her nail stopping its movements, and she's sat with her knees to her chin. With a groan, she rests her chin on her knees, quickly replacing it with their forehead when she groans even louder.

Jason chuckles, glad to have his space again but somehow missing the flush of his ears. Fuck. His stupid revived brain cannot be doing this right now. Not on a stake out, not on a stake out with his best friend, not on a stake out with his best friend who just so happens to have a boyfriend of a couple months— Yeah… That’s fucked.

A silence wafts through them, and they both wonder if the other can tell there’s something more in the silence than just that, than just silence.

She shivers at the very thought, shuffling away to one of the computers of the van. Jason stills, finding the back of the van suddenly extremely comfortable as he watches her hands type away. He watches her every move, the way only the slightest movement of her hair falling to her face would irk her off and she’d tuck it back into the back of her ear just as quick as it moved, the way her bottom lips insides were bitten as she examined whatever was on that monitor, the way her eyes flicked from the monitor to Jason— Oh.

“What?” She mumbled. Odd, he realised, she never really mumbled around him before— Not when they were kids, teens, after his revival, not after anything. She was always so…. Snarky.

He clears his throat in hopes it’d clear his mind too, “Nothing, nothing—” he curses at his awkward responses, he was never like this around her before either— “Just lost in thought.”

She nodded, understanding as always, quiet as never.

“Jason…” his heart jumped to his throat at the sound of her voice merely uttering the two syllables that made up his name, “Do you wanna pass some time with me?”

His mind started rushing and his blood started squeezing around his veins at obscure speeds, down, down, down. He let out his second and hopefully last awkward chuckle, “Like a game of ‘I Spy?’?”

They used to play that all the time back in detention whenever Prof. Duong started nodding off to dream lands far far away from that dumb school for the troubled. But Jason guessed they weren’t back at detention, guessed they weren’t really kids anymore when she started to inch closer to him than ever.

He tried his best to look everywhere but her, in hopes his hands didn’t jump at the chance to grab her waist and just have her as near as possible— But of course, as always, he failed. And all of a sudden his eyes couldn’t leave the two piercings that sat symmetrically on her bottom lip— and his thoughts couldn’t leave the mere feel of them against his lips alone.

“No, birdie wonder,” she made herself at home between his legs, on her knees as she leaned in closer and closer. She hadn’t changed her perfume since before his death, he realised when she was just a couple of inches away, “Something more… Grown up?”

The only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him from absolutely taking her in with all his soul, was the two necklaces that were clasped onto her neck. His mothers necklace, and a newer one— A silver heart-shaped locket engraved with the lettering ‘K’.

His hand comes up to fiddle with it, “Hm… Do you think ‘K’ would approve of this?”

That stalls her, just for a bit, just for a small stutter of her heart. All until her hands leave his chest— and he starts wishing he never said anything about no stupid ‘K’— and goes behind her neck to unclasp the poor thing.

She slides it to the other side of the van, “Fuck it.”

The very moment she turns around, he knows how those piercings feel against his lips— Right.

His thumb caresses her cheekbone as he leads their kiss down so that she’s on the floor of the van. His knee comes up and slots easily between her legs as he’s met with the surprise that she’s got a piercing in her tongue as well. He shivers down into a small groan against her lips, his other hand sliding up her shirt and tracing the line of her bra.

She whimpers into his lips and he wishes he could let that consume all of him forever, keep that exact moment engraved in his brain as the feeling of her reverberates across his very soul. He wonders if ‘K’’s ever felt that exact same whimper on his lips, and wonders if he even took care of her like Jason could.

His kisses grew hotter yet languid in the way of savouring every moment their lips touched, he starts to kiss down from her lips, down to the expanse of her neck where he held himself back on leaving any mark of some sort, down to her collar bone where he left the smallest of nips that made the smallest of moans leave her shaky lips.

He looks at her through the gaps of his lashes, the way her eyebrows furrowed and her lips trembled at just his teasing knee and a couple nibs and kisses. He grew hot. And bothered. Very bothered.

But before he could do any more than just that he huffs as he spoke out to her, “Are you sure...? Are you so sure this is what you want? ... With me?”

85 notes · View notes

ithinkabouttzu · 1 year ago

Note

omg feel free to ignore but can you do BoB headcanons of having a female medic s/o with big boobs 🙏

Easy co.’s reaction to having a nurse s/o with big boobs

genre: Fluff; suggestive

warnings: Language, suggestion (sorry guys)

description: Easy company’s men reaction to you (their s/o) being their nurse and having big boobs.

a/n: Hey!! Sorry I totally didn’t see the medic part and I accidentally wrote it as nurse i’m so sorry 😭 Anywho, just a reminder that this isn’t any hate towards any itty-bitty-titty community at all! (love you guys for real!) Also, some of these might seem like they’re sexualizing the reader but please don’t take it that way, it’s all supposed to be about love!! Hope you enjoy reading <3

Taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @ronsparky @samwinchesterslostshoe @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!)

Dick Winters: - He tries to be the most respectful, it’s inappropriate to look at your body that way and he really respects you.

- But he also is fighting himself from blushing when he sees how your figure looks in your nurses uniform

- He finds you beautiful regardless though, no matter what your chest size is (even tho he’s had a very hard time trying not to stare)

Lewis Nixon: - his eyes get really big when he sees you in your nurse uniform, your cleavage out almost perfectly.

- His throat becomes dry, he feels the urge to drink water, lots of it from his recent thirst, but it seems the only thing he’s thirsty for is you.

- After seeing only men for the past months, and you being the first women he sees in the hospital, he almost dies flat out and he would be completely happy to do so

Carwood Lipton: - He doesn’t even notice at first, he only looks when you have to reach across his body in order to find a good vein.

- His face gets so red, one because he’s guilty for looking, another because he’s absolutely in awe of the beautiful things in front of him

- He still tries to not objectify you, but he truly finds you beautiful in general. He can’t help but get goosebumps at the thought of seeing you again

Joe Toye: - Man when he sees you in that nurses dress, after almost a year of seeing only the men around him, he gets so close to losing it

- He literally starts drooling at the mouth whenever he sees you, you’re like a dream come true, an answer to every single one of his prayers.

- When you do get close to him it’s like he can’t breathe, your body only clouds his mind with unholy thoughts and the dying urge to feel your pretty chest. He’s absolutely desperate for you and getting to know you for the rest of his stay at the hospital.

Joe Liebgott: - NOW WE ALL KNOW THIS MAN IS HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE When he sees you, he actually does lose it, a big smile rising onto his face as though the girl of his dreams is now assigned as his nurse

- He’s an absolute slut for you. Like he’s gonna try his absolute best to make you his, whatever he has to do, he’ll do it. He can’t help but flirt with you any chance he can get.

- When it’s getting close to the end of his stay, he’s dreading it. Only wishing to see you everyday. He’ll practically beg to see you again sometime, or if he can write to you. And being good friends you say yes, making him the happiest man alive.

Bill Guarnere: - He’s probably the biggest flirt you’ve had as a patient. The look on his face is the equivalence of a kid in a candy store for the first time. He’s quick to introduce himself to you, bringing out his best charm for you

- “You always walk around looking like that? It’s killin’ me, doll, and you know it” He would whisper in your ear as you take care of him. It’s hard not to give in when he’s so enticing like this, his voice sending you chills when he talks to you so romantically.

- He’d promise he’d write to you once he gets better, making sure that once the war was over, he’d find you again and take you out the right way.

George Luz: -He gets so smiley when he sees you, he doesn’t mean to stare at your chest, in his defense your chest was kinda staring at him first, your uniform was a bit tight in the upper half making you a bit more revealed, but he didn’t mind one bit.

-He was actually rather joyful, whenever he saw you, you brought his hopes up a bunch. It always made him so happy to see you. Just being around a women and getting to be taken care of by you was a dream.

- He loves every second that he has with you, I could definitely see him being quite smitten with you after you taking such good care of him.

Eugene Roe: - He gets super shy around you and finds it pretty hard to make eye contact for the longest. He never thought he’d be the one to end up hurt, especially when he was supposed to be the one to help people get better, but being around you makes things a lot better.

- Sometimes he’d like to imagine that you guys are together while you’re taking care of him and when he’s really sad. just a lovely girlfriend taking care of her sick boyfriend is what he sees in his head (even tho he knows that’s not the case)

- When you ask if he’d like for you to write letters, he almost finds it impossible that a gorgeous girl like you, would want him to be your man. He’s estatic and would say yes immediately.

Bull Randleman: - It’s love at first sight for him. “Wow” is all he can say under his breath when he sees you for the first time. It’s an amazing sight.

- In the most non-offensive way possible, you’re like a wet dream come true to him. A sweet, pretty girl, with the prettiest tits known to man, taking care of him while he’s hurt.

- It’s like a dream for the rest of his time there. He waits and counts down the hours until you take care of him again, he’s just so happy to be in your presence.

Floyd Talbert: - After everything he’s endured the past months, you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. Literally a gift from God. You and your amazing top half mesmerizing him by the way you do practically anything.

- He looks forward to every-time he sees you. And when he does he’s flirting with you nonstop. “You know, when all this is over with, I would love to get to know you better.”

- He’s gotta a staring problem really bad, he tries to stop, but he can’t help it. You’re the first woman he’s laid eyes on in so long and he just can’t get enough of your body.

Skip Muck: - “Christ in heaven, you’re the best thing i’ve seen my entire life” He says when you walk to his bed, urgent for your care. “How are you today beautiful? Do I need to fight any fellas for giving you a problem?” He’s very playful with you, but there’s only truth to his words.

- He thinks you’re so pretty though, he’s like a schoolgirl crushing on her teacher, anticipating for your arrival everyday, and being a pet to you everytime you are around.

- When his stay is ending, he finally confesses his feelings to you, letting you know how much he actually enjoys spending time with you, and how he would love to see you after the war.

Don Malarkey:- He’s like a little boy around you, so cheerful and happy. When he first met you he was struck by your pretty face, and its was no surprise that your chest was perfect too.

- He tries being respectful every time you’re around, but it’s hard not to steal a glance at your pretty chest every now and then. You never fail to send butterflies down his body when you get close to him too.

-He’s extra sweet to you always, calling you ma’am respectfully, asking if he can do anything for you despite his physical condition. He’s just very happy to have a positive energy like you around him.

Babe Heffron: - “My goodness, what have I done to deserve you” He says when he sees you walk over to him, it doesn’t even matter if he’s hurt, he can’t feel it anymore. Only thing he can feel is a burning desire for you.

- You’ll catch him staring towards you a lot, he doesn’t even try to hide his staring eyes. He is truly fascinated with you.

- When his stay gets cut short, he asks you if you’d like for him to write to you, it was the sweetest you’d ever saw him. When you said yes he would grab you in a hug and swing you around with joy.

Shifty Powers: - He’s the most respectful out of all the guys. He’s well aware of how perfect your chest is, but he’s not going out of his way to make you uncomfortable at all. He’s pretty mature about it.

- But he does find you beautiful, to him, your body is obviously amazing, but you are so much more to him then just a nice nurse with pretty tits. You’re amazing girl that he would love to know more of.

- He probably would tell you how he feels later on once his time there was up, it he would be super nice and respectful about it.

Frank Perconte: - He’s like a dog to a bone, absolutely enamored with you and your smokin’ body (as he would like to call it)

- “What a dame” He’d say under his breath, suddenly in the need of water by your nice looks. He’s definitely gotta staring problem (he really can’t help it 😭)

- “When all this is over with, you wanna come home with me, pretty girl?” He would flirt with you until he physically can’t anymore

Ronald Speirs: - He doesn’t want to give you a huge reaction, but if you could read his mind, you’d be surprised about the things he’d been thinking about….

- “Doll, do you know the effect that you leave on half of the guys in this place? I can’t tell you what all they’d do just to touch you”

- In all, he’s mesmerized by your body and the way you move. Even in the most basic moments, he just can’t help but watch you do your job.

Skinny Sisk: - “You’re my nurse, wow. Is it my lucky day or somethin’?” When he sees you, he’s so happy that you’re gonna be the one taking care of him

- He’s a big simp for you, if you need anything, someone to talk to, help (if he’s physically able) then he’s more then willing to do it.

- He’s so smiley and happy around you it’s so sweet!! He tries not to stare at your amazing rack but he thinks you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen.

Chuck Grant: - “Golly, am I in heaven?” He thinks you’re an absolute angel after all of the hell he’s seen. If good looks could kill, he’d be willing to die under your watch.

- He has to remind himself constantly than your eyes are “up there” instead of anything otherwise, but he can’t concentrate on anything when you’re in the room (for obvious reasons ofc)

- He’s well behaved on the most part though, just a sweet bby who loves your chest like it’s nothing LOL

Johnny Martin: - He actually feels so much better when he finds out you are gonna he his nurse. Christmas day came early for him (a pretty girl with nice tits was for sure on his list)

- “What are you doin’ here? Shouldn’t you be performing at some show or something, you’re too pretty to work” He doesn’t understand why you’re having to move a finger tbh, you’re too precious to him 😭

- “I had a nice time with you while I was here, if you ever wanna write to me, you can, doll” He honestly gets kinda sad when he knows he won’t be able to wake up to your pretty face (and tits) everyday.

David Webster: - Tbh you’re the real reason why he’s in the hospital for so damn long 🤣 like the moment he met you he just had to be around you at all times

- He stares a lot, and has a quite bit of dirty daydreams containing your chest and him 😭

- Honestly he didn’t even think he was a boobs guy until he met you, you really changed him for the better

Buck Compton: - He’s this emoji: 🤤, actually drooling at the mouth, you look so good to him.

- He’s never been happier to be in a hospital at the moment, your presence is enough to bring him back to full health tbh

- He’s super thankful in general that he has such a pretty and well rounded (see what I did there ) nurse taking care of him while he’s down

Thank you for your request! If you enjoyed, make sure to reblog or like! 🩷

109 notes · View notes

bradleysass · 2 months ago

Text

Fight - word count: 783 - Jegulas

James Potter wasn’t used to waiting. He wasn’t used to silence either—not from Regulus, anyway.

It had been a small fight. At least, James thought it was small. Something about Regulus shutting himself off again, about the walls he built up even when James had been so careful to break them down. James had snapped, said something about how hard it was to be with someone who wouldn’t let him in, and then—just like that—Regulus had left.

That was last night.

Now it was late afternoon, and James hadn’t heard a word. No owl. No patronus. Not even a cutting remark scribbled on a piece of parchment. Just nothing.

James sat on the couch in the flat they sometimes shared, his knee bouncing with restless energy. His wand was on the coffee table, next to the cold remains of the tea he’d made hours ago. Sirius had dropped by earlier, but James had sent him away with some excuse about needing to handle it himself.

Because he did. He needed to fix this.

The problem was, he didn’t know how. Regulus wasn’t like anyone James had ever loved before. He was quiet and guarded, his affection revealed in small, fleeting moments—a hand brushing against James’s in passing, the way he lingered when he thought James wasn’t paying attention. And when Regulus felt cornered, he pulled away, retreating into himself like a shadow.

James hated the silence.

He glanced at the clock, then at the door. He’d debated going to find Regulus—searching the library where he sometimes hid or even the cold expanse of Grimmauld Place. But something held him back.

Maybe Regulus needed space.

Or maybe James was terrified of what he’d find.

Finally, just as the tension in his chest became unbearable, the door creaked open. James shot to his feet, his heart pounding as Regulus stepped inside.

He looked… tired. His hair was slightly mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it too many times, and there were faint shadows under his gray eyes. He didn’t meet James’s gaze right away, instead shutting the door behind him with slow, deliberate movements.

“Reg,” James started, but Regulus held up a hand, cutting him off.

“Before you say anything,” Regulus said quietly, his voice steady but brittle, “I just need to know. Is this it? Are we… done?”

James stared at him, completely thrown. “What? No! Merlin, no, Reg, why would you think that?”

Regulus let out a shaky breath, his hand falling to his side. “Because I know I’m difficult, James. I know I’m not… easy to love. And last night, when you said—” He stopped, his voice breaking slightly before he could recover. “I thought maybe you’d finally realized it wasn’t worth it.”

James crossed the room in three quick strides, stopping just short of touching Regulus. “Regulus,” he said firmly, his voice full of the kind of conviction he wished Regulus could hear every time he doubted himself. “I don’t think that. I never think that. You’re not difficult, you’re just… you. And I’m here because I want to be. Because I love you.”

Regulus’s eyes finally met James’s, and for the first time all day, James saw something soften in him. “You do?”

“Of course I do,” James said, his hands itching to reach out. “You’re it for me, Reg. Even when we fight, even when you shut me out, I’m not going anywhere. I just…” He sighed. “I need you to talk to me. To tell me when you’re scared, or upset, or—hell, anything. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

Regulus swallowed hard, and James could see the vulnerability in the way he shifted his weight, the way he glanced at the floor before looking back at James.

“I’m not good at that,” Regulus admitted. “Talking.”

“I know,” James said softly. “But I’ll wait. However long it takes, I’ll wait for you.”

Regulus let out a breath that sounded like relief. “I was afraid,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Afraid that if I came back, you’d tell me it was over. So I stayed away.”

James felt his heart ache at the admission. He reached out, his hand resting gently on Regulus’s cheek. “Next time, don’t stay away. Come back. Always come back to me.”

Regulus leaned into the touch, his eyes closing for a moment before he nodded. “Okay.”

James pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly as if he could shield him from all the doubts and fears Regulus carried. “We’re okay, yeah?” James murmured into his hair.

Regulus nodded against his chest. “Yeah,” he said, his voice steadier now. “We’re okay.”

#marauders #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #sunwater #james potter #regulus black #microfic

36 notes · View notes

nogoodnik-captions · 6 months ago

Text

“Hey guys, I know you’ve all been following me for a while, I saw the comments, believe me. Everybody has been wondering, since my friend got not just a reduction, but a full mastectomy, when will my big ol’ bouncy boobs be going away? Well, you can consider this an announcement!”

She brings her friend out, the song they dance a bit to says “wish there were two of me”, and it’s fairly apt. “That’s right, you remember how short and stacked she was, Hell, she was at least three sizes bigger than me before…now look at how flat she is! Uggh, thinking about how they chopped all that down to this complete flatness…it kind of makes me wet, as does reading you guys’s comments. 😩”

Her friend nervously chuckles. “Uhh, yeah, wow, that is a lot, but I don’t blame you. Reductions have been a big social media trend, haven’t they? I don’t even think most busty young women even make it to 23 now without their tits getting chopped off or liposuctioned away. Guys and girls alike are pressuring us, sometimes saying for health reasons, but mostly feel like they’re either catcalling or trying to tear us down. It feels so weird that our generation isn’t allowed to have anything bigger than C-cups by like 25 or so.” “Oh, nonsense! You remember me groping your jumbo jugs from before? Those fat lard sacks were full of tumors, too, I felt it, I swear.” The taller girl bites her lip as she says this, then looks down at her own bouncy pair, groping it and saying “Bye bye soon, titties.”

“I-I’m not sure where this social pressure or trend came from. You don’t seem like you need this medically or anything, you just seem…horny.” Her friend slapped her in her flat chest. “Ow!” “Nonsense! It’s very necessary! Young women bouncing around with massive, boingy chests…it’s so perverted! Having big tits is for mothers after they’re impregnated, maybe then you can earn back the right to having a large chest, when they’re there for a purpose, and not just sexual lust and titillation! Although hateboners fuck the hardest, and getting rid of your pillowy soft tits makes all the sex you have hatesex.” “Shit, you’re full of contradictions, girl…”

“Whatever, bitch! My insurance approved, and I’m gonna get my tits chopped completely off, and nobody’s gonna stop me.” “Okay, I guess. Honestly, did you and my mom make me get them cut off out of jealousy?” “Well, since you don’t have them any more. Yes, yes, we did. In fact, your mom and I were talking about it a whole lot. And you see, she grew back, after she got married and became a good wife.” “Yeah, like C-cups…I saw pics of her when she was 21, she had H-cups, then went flat after college.” “Don’t be such a bitch, if you want your precious tits back, that’ll at least give you something, right? You know how it is now, reductions are like the hottest thing on the planet…”

#breast reduction #breast shrinking #body modification kink #breast reduction kink #breast shrinking kink #medical kink #nogoodnik material #all acknowledgements to beatrixstonehill2 #for this kind of style

20 notes · View notes

your-queer-dad · 6 months ago

Note

Hi Finch!

I just tried on my new binder (the one I told you about a few days ago). I'm glad that I tried to manage my expectations, I think I'd be upset now if I hadn't done that... but let me tell you about the new binder.

The front is a lot less stiff than my other one. That's not what I expected, but it makes sense given the descriptions n stuff. It's also more flexible and comfortable than my other one. That's good, because I bought it primarily for the comfort. Now, the compression it gives is just a little more than a sports bra, which is fine, my other one doesn't do wonders either, that one just looks like more bc the front is more stiff and does a better job at concealing the under boob gap thingy (if you know what I mean). Overall I think I like this one but I might still look into buying another one of the first one, but in skin color. Idk, we'll see.

I wish binders would do more for me compression wise. For some reason my chest doesn't get compressed a lot even though it's on the small side. I feel like the tissue is just dense or something? Idk, I don't have a lot of knowledge regarding the density of tissue in that area lol. I just want a clearer picture in my head of what I might look/feel like with a flat chest, you know? And I need tools like the binder to get that picture as having aphantasia means I can't just imagine it, which is really annoying. I don't really have any notable dysphoria, I just want to know if I'd feel more comfortable with a flat chest. Idk, gender is weird...

Anyway! As for binder safety, I don't wear binders in my day-to-day life, I just sometimes put them on for pride events or dinners n stuff like that. I should be good to go on that front ^^ instead of binding I just do the slouching method lol, I know that's not great either but I think it's slightly better?

I think that's it from me for today though! I hope you and everyone else who reads this has/had a wonderful day ^^ go hydrate and take care of yourselves everyone!

- 🌌🌃

Hey kiddo! I completely understand your frustration with binders not compressing fully, I have a similar situation and it can be frustrating. But I'm really glad you have it as an option!!

- dad x

#lgbt #finch rambles #lgbtq #lgbtqia #queer positivity #trans #transgender #ask a finch!

14 notes · View notes

whatarewedoingdude · 3 months ago

Text

Gonna rant about my gender identity because I've been pondering it lately for some reason

I was born with the body of a girl, and I don't mind it. Sometimes I wish I was different, but most times I don't. Sure, the monthly bleeding and hormones are annoying, but I love this body. It may not love me, but I'm doing whatever I can to help that.

I feel like this is mainly due to the fact that I have grown and changed- both physically and mentally- as a person. I grew up hating this body, doing whatever I could to disgrace it. I went through a period in my early teens where I would never look at my body in the mirror. Every time I went to shower, I would turn and face away from the giant mirror in the bathroom. I would cover my eyes so I didn't have to see the body I so badly wanted to be rid of.

Since then, I have come to terms with the shape and anatomy of my body. I now truly believe I am beautiful.

When I was a small child, before reaching double-digit age, I was avid on not being feminine. I hated the color pink, I didn't like stereotypically "girly" things, I did not wear skirts or dresses, I did not paint my nails, I did not like makeup. I never understood why, but now I know it was dysphoria. I did not know it at the time, but I was a boy internally. There was a great disconnect between me and femininity- even though I was a girl, I never felt like one. I felt like I was pretending whenever I presented myself as such.

This is still partially true. Internally, I feel like a boy.

As a preteen, I was obsessed with presenting as femininely as possible. I would shave my arms and legs, stuff my bra, and try to act as "girly" as possible. This was mainly to get male attention. I wanted to be seen and wanted as a woman, to be pretty and desired like all the other girls who had boys falling all over them. At that time, I had a boyfriend and was wildly insecure. By increasing my femininity, I thought he'd pay more attention to me and love me more. This was to no avail.

Only until the pandemic hit did I discover myself.

As I reached my teen years, I thought I was a transgender man. I would dress in jeans and button ups every day, wear sports bras that made my chest look virtually flat, and never shave. I believed that I was a boy, and wanted to be a boy. But I did not want to change my body. This was confusing to me, since at the time, I didn't fully understand that your body doesn't coordinate with your gender identity. It was at this time that I chose my second name: Axel. In typical 13-year-old-me fashion, this name came to me through a video in which a German grandmother gave Haikyu characters German names. Of course, she named my favorite character "Axel", and after a quick google search, I discovered that the name was Scandinavian in origin. Seeing this as an opportunity to pay homage to my ancestors, as well as reinvent myself, I took the name and ran.

After a few years, I am still incredibly happy with this name. The nickname "Axe" is an additional perk.

Only in recent years have I really put two and two together on my real identity. I came across the knowledge that my gender was very flexible and dependent on how I felt that day. I discovered the term "genderfluid" shortly after, which completely transformed my identity. Before, I had classified myself as ftm, even though that never felt quite right. After some research, I concluded that the term "genderfluid" perfectly described how I felt.

I am still very happy with this label. It fits like a glove.

A year or two ago, I finally got my first gender-affirming haircut. It was still fairly feminine, but having hair that didn't go past my shoulders was like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place. Since then, I have gone shorter and shorter, and I now have my sides shaved and a stylized mullet- to the distress of my twin flame, who hates mullets. As I entered my first serious relationship, I discovered that I don't like being seen as a girl through and through. I like being seen as a boy and being referred to as such, even though I present incredibly feminine.

The best way I can describe this is through the analogy of a drag queen. Some fully identify and embrace being physically and mentally male, even though they enjoy presenting feminine. I'm like a drag queen who never takes the makeup off.

#ramblings #lgbtqia #genderfluid #transgender #long post

8 notes · View notes

timaeusterrored · 1 year ago

Text

(The Northern Lights)

Depression was a common thing in the Eurodyne household. It normally hit at different times luckily enough, their bad weeks never usually lined up. But the one time it did, Kerry booked them a trip. He needed to get them both out of the city, away from stress and reminders.

Kerry wanted to spice things up, go somewhere Vax had never been. He tried to keep it to his place in Florida or Italy simply for his husband’s comfort, but he felt they needed something new, and see something Vax would be all over.

So next thing he knew, they were on their plane to Iceland. Vax was mostly quiet, lost in thought as he usually was as Kerry answered emails and did the less fun part of his job.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head?” Kerry spoke up after about an hour of silence, making Vax look up. His exhaustion was hitting him hard, and Kerry wished he didn’t over work himself like this.

“Static. I think if I had a single thought right now I’d explode.” Vax got up from his seat and moved to cuddle up with Kerry, the older man moving his laptop away in favor of his favorite person.

“Understandable… try not to think too hard. You take your meds today?”

“Yes Vik.” Vax mumbled sarcastically.

“Hey now, don’t get sassy because I’m making sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to.” Kerry held him to his chest, looking out the window. He hoped he had planned this right.

When they landed, Kerry got them checked into their lodge as soon as possible, they had a tour to get too and he could see that Vax’s interest had been caught.

He had Vax out of the lodge in ten minutes flat, basically dragging him. Vax had no idea what was going on, but he was into it. And Kerry had to keep that interest for the next few hours.

Okay, the beginning of the tour was kind of a drag, Kerry wouldn’t lie… but goddamn was it worth it when he saw what he had dragged his husband all the way up for.

“Aurora.” Vax breathed, staring at the night sky with childlike wonder. Kerry was glad the Space station hadn’t completely ruined the stars for Vax.

Kerry leaned into his side, for warmth and support. This was totally worth it.

“Can I-“

“Yes you can tell me facts, that’s why we’re here.” Vax was his own personal stars podcast sometimes.

“So basically, the Northern lights, or Aurora borealis, is actually sun storms. But our atmosphere protects us from them, they’re as pretty as they are violent.”

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“Yeah Venus is fucking violent sometimes-“

“You asshole. You knew who I was talking about.”

“A n y w a y, speaking of Venus, did you know that the lights were named after the Roman goddess of dawn, Aurora? And the Greek god of winds, Boreas?”

“I did not.”

“Yeah, it’s really fuckin cool when you think about it-“

Vax proceeded to take about the lights for the next 15 minutes, until they had faded and his face fell a bit.

“What?” Kerry frowned.

“It’s just said something so beautiful only lasts for a short amount of time. We’re lucky we even got to see them.”

“…kinda like life.”

Vax’s arm tightened around him, and Kerry looked up to find grey eyes staring down at him.

“You didn’t drag me up here to serve divorce papers did you? Because we are stuck in this shit together, no one else could possibly-“

Kerry cut him off with a kiss, holding his face with a small smile when they pulled back.

“I’m genuinely amazed you haven’t exploded yet… I’m not going anywhere.” Kerry whispered, bumping their foreheads together.

“Good…” Vax whispered back, looking back up at the stars.

#fun fact: this was inspired by a distractable episode #cyberpunk 2077 #kerry eurodyne #cyberpunk kerry #kerry #cyberpunk v #male v #male v cyberpunk #vax eurodyne #kerry x v #kerry eurodyne x v #kerry x male v #v x kerry #cyberpunk v x Kerry Eurodyne #EuroV #cyberpunk fiction #cyberpunk fanfic #otp: supernova

23 notes · View notes

hisch13r86 · 2 months ago

Note

for the spotify fic ask - nicojack + 99 (13+86 eheh)

[#99] Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the machine) by Taylor Swift

And this city reeks of driving myself crazy

I need to forget, so take me to Florida

I’ve got some regrets, I’ll bury them in Florida

Set: February, 2024 post- All-Star Day 1

Jack blows out a breath and sinks further into his seat, first class but so terribly commercial. He isn’t famous enough to think that anyone’s really going to stop to notice him on a flight to Florida instead of Jersey—where he’s supposed to be going—but then again, all it takes is one person tweeting it out and the entire world will know.

Not actually the entire world, Nico would remind him if he were here and not already out on some rental boat working on his tan and pretending he gives a shit about fishing. But a sizable handful of people would suddenly become aware that he’d lied about returning to Jersey to rehab just so he could get out of having a camera pointed straight at him for two hours.

He’s been in the league four and a half years now, and it still makes his skin itch sometimes, remembering that there might be a camera on him. That there probably is a camera on him, even if it’s not the one being shown on the Jumbotron or the broadcast. It never seems to bother the other guys as much as it bothers Jack.

It certainly doesn’t bother Nico, and no matter how sympathetic he might be about the whole thing, he’ll never get it. Never feel it the way Jack does. Jack wishes he could be a little bit more like Nico in that sense. He wishes he could be a little bit more like Nico on flights, too. He never ceases to envy the way Nico can knock out in five seconds flat the second he’s settled on the team plane.

Maybe Jack would be able to do that too, if he could just get settled. But he can’t, not even when Nico’s got his arm wrapped snuggly around Jack’s waist, his mouth slightly agape as he drools onto Jack’s shoulder.

He has managed to fall asleep a handful of times, after particularly grueling games when they have to fly out to the next city immediately, but only ever if he’s got Nico to curl up against, and even then it’s once in a blue moon.

So, Jack spends the entire flight with his hood tugged up high over his curls, trying his hardest not to fidget and piss off the middle aged man in the seat beside him.

It’s like a breath of fresh air once he’s off the airplane. Which, like, obviously it’s the first actually fresh air he’s sucked into his lungs in hours, not stale like the air had grown to be throughout the flight. But also, Jack fucking loves Florida. He thinks it might be in part because this is where he was born, something deep in the marrow of his bones singing every time he comes back here even though this state has never quite felt like home. He loves the daytime sunshine and persistent warmth and evening rain, the smell of saltwater thick in the air this near to the coast.

And it’s like, no one’s ever really given a fuck about hockey in Florida, not outside of Sunrise and Tampa, at least. He can walk down the streets completely anonymous in a way he can never quite manage in Hoboken.

Nico’s there, standing beside his rental car in the pickup line, wearing abhorrent board shorts and a threadbare t-shirt stretched taut over his biceps, a backwards cap and slides. His dimples crease his cheeks as he catches sight of Jack and raises an arm, giving a wave that’s equal parts goofy and endearing. God, Jack is so obsessed with him.

The air is different here, Jack knows it is. Just as well as he knows that he needs to be crushed in one of Nico’s bear hugs right now or he might actually die.

He takes a step and then another and there’s less time between his AirForces hitting the pavement with every stride and before he knows it he’s flying down the line, hitting Nico’s chest with a torn out little oof. Nico’s hands come up to splay across his shoulder blades and Jack buries his face against the crook of his neck, unable to tamp down on the little whine before it slips out. He muffles the sound against Nico’s skin, a little damp with the sweat of Florida’s perpetual heat, so fucking warm that Jack wants to drown himself in it.

Some airport attendant tasked with ensuring nobody’s loitering around the pickup line is sure to come berate them at any second, but Jack can’t be bothered to care, clinging to Nico just as hard as Nico’s clinging to him.

“Schatz,” Nico says, quiet. Concerned. His voice reverberated over all of the places where they’re touching, from Nico’s chest straight to Jack’s. He’s asking a question. Without actually asking it. He knows Jack has a harder time lying to him when he asks outright.

“I’m fine,” he says hastily. And he isn’t, still paranoid and twitchy from the flight, from Toronto, from his fucked up shoulder, from Jersey— which he loves but will never cease to make him feel just a little bit crazy. But he’s in Florida now, with the sea breeze kicking through his curls and Nico’s arms wrapped around him and he thinks that once he has a couple of days of sunshine and boating under his belt he could get there.

Nico hums. “There’s still some daylight left,” he says, his breath ghosting over the shell of Jack’s ear. Florida is the only place where Jack doesn’t feel cold when Nico pulls away. “We could catch the sunset on the water if we hurry.”

“Yeah,” Jack breathes. That sounds— it sounds pretty damn good, actually.

4 notes · View notes