#dick mania
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wgy my penist hurt
I’m sorry to inform you that your penist has Dick Mania. Your penist went on a bangin’ bender and it’s now headed for a depressive episode. Put a nice comfy donut on it, and wait it out with some your favorite soft porn and/or popcorn.
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💀💀💀
#patrick stump#fall out boy#fob patrick#fob#mania fall out boy#mania fob#sexy belly#so jiggly#dick bulge#gorgeous man#chubby boy#man tiddies#slo mo#sexiest man alive#not mine
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Epiphany Pt. 12: You're On Your Own, Kid
Lewis Nixon x Reader
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Title inspo - you're on your own, kid: taylor swift
A/N: this is my first post on my hbo war side-blog! yay! this chapter is the calm before the storm, y'all. this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
Word Count: 4.1k
Summary: Ill-equipped and poorly supplied, (y/n) and the rest of Easy do their best to survive in the frozen Ardennes Forest of Bastogne.
Warnings: description of injury, very soft lew
December 20, 1944: Ardennes Forest, Belgium
The forest lay under a heavy blanket of snow, the silence only broken by the occasional gust of icy wind, quiet conversations, and the all-to-familiar whistling of incoming shells. (Y/n) sat on the edge of her foxhole, her breath visible in the cold air as she gazed out at the German line. Through the veil of swirling snow, she couldn’t make out their silhouettes, but she knew they were there. It was a landscape of paradoxes: serene yet charged, beautiful yet deadly.
With her gaze still fixed in the white haze, she felt a surge of frustration and anger rise in her. It was fueled by the knowledge that the Krauts had the supplies that they desperately needed. It was a cruel twist of fate that Easy was hungry, cold, and struggling, while the enemy, albeit just across the way, had the sustenance and warmth they lacked. They had a few missed supply drops to thank for that.
The air was frigid, cutting through layers of clothing and seeping into her very bones. (Y/n) hugged herself, arms wrapping tightly around her body in a futile attempt to capture a semblance of warmth. Her gloved fingers, numbed by the cold, clutched at the fabric of her uniform, seeking refuge in the familiar touch.
“(Y/n), remind me to never complain about the heat again,” Skip jested through chattering teeth, a weak smile attempting to mask his discomfort.
“Yeah, this makes those Georgia summers seem downright pleasant,” Don added with a forced chuckle, the words barely leaving his blue-tinted lips.
Skip waved a hand in front of (y/n)’s distant gaze, breaking her trance and pulling her back to reality. “Earth to (y/n). You with us?”
Shaking from her thoughts, she turned towards the group, forcing a chapped smile. “Yeah,” she muttered, pushing herself up from where she sat in the foxhole, trying to get blood circulating in her numbed limbs. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t get lost out there,” Malarkey called out, his voice tinged with concern as she swung her rifle onto her shoulder.
“A walk in a winter wonderland,” Skip chimed in, his grin mischievous as he wiggled his eyebrows. “Is that code for, ‘going to see your favorite captain’ by any chance?”
A playful scoff escaped her lips in a huff. “Shut up, Muck. I can’t feel my toes, so I’m going for a walk to fix that.”
Malarkey shrugged, feigning innocence. “Yeah, sure. Have fun on your walk.”
The woman shook her head fondly at her friends as she slowly walked away from the foxhole. Her limbs didn’t want to work correctly, so she found herself doing a pitiful half-limp around the forest as she attempted to get some blood flowing to her feet.
Despite her and Nix’s efforts to be discreet, the Toccoa men who had watched them from the beginning couldn’t be fooled. While nothing was openly acknowledged, there was a shared understanding that something was going on between the couple. Only Harry and Dick knew for certain, and only because they grilled Lew when he returned from Paris.
Maybe she would pay her favorite Captain a visit.
“Hey, Cripple!” someone called out. Groaning, (y/n) turned to face the voice, ready to retort when the very ground beneath her seemed to tremble and shudder violently. An explosion erupted from behind her, a deafening roar as the shockwave threw her off balance, sending her to the ground in a heap.
She curled into a protective ball, her hands instinctively shielding her head as the world was swallowed by chaos. The relentless barrage of mortars painted the sky, their descent announced by menacing whistles. The once serene forest became a frenzied battleground, trees splintering and snow erupting into wild flurries.
Amidst the disarray, a call pierced through the mayhem. “(Y/l/n)! Over here!”
Scrambling to her feet, her heart raced with adrenaline and drowned out the pounding explosions. She didn’t spare a moment to see who called, her focus solely on getting to cover. (Y/n) snatched up her rifle from the snow-covered ground and sprinted towards the direction of the voice, her heavy breaths misting in the frigid air.
As she ran, her foot caught a fallen tree branch and she was sent tumbling into the freezing embrace of the forest floor, awkwardly landing on her arm. Pain flared in her wrist as she fought to get to her feet, panicking at being exposed without cover. Then, like a savior, a hand extended towards her and hauled her into a nearby foxhole.
Joe Liebgott’s face appeared in front of her, and his eyes reflected the same fear and helplessness that she felt. She let go of her rifle, allowing it to rest in the snow as she clamped her hands over her ears, desperate to drown out the deafening noise that assaulted her senses. (Y/n) clenched her eyes closed, seeing refuge in the darkness as Joe pulled her tightly into his body, shielding her from the relentless barrage. The concussive blasts continued, each one sending shockwaves through the ground and dirt, snow, and ice raining down on them. She held on, feeling the frantic rise and fall of Joe’s chest against her, praying that it would all stop soon.
Seconds, minutes, hours, (y/n) didn’t know how much time had passed when the earth-shattering blasts ceased. A few gentle pats on her helmet were the only indication it was over. Slowly, she released her grip on her ears, the painful ringing subsiding to the backdrop of her ragged breaths as she looked up at him with wide eyes.
“You alright?” Joe asked, his concerned gaze scanning her for injuries.
(Y/n) nodded, wincing as she flexed her wrist, attempting to brush off the debris clinging to her skin. “I’m okay.”
His eyes narrowed, shifting from her face to her arm and then back again. “You sure?”
“I just landed on it weird,” she replied, clenching her teeth against the searing pain that radiated up her arm with every movement.
“Let me get Doc, (y/n),” he offered, about to get up, but her good arm shot up and pulled him back down.
Sitting up, she carefully retrieved her rifle and climbed out of the foxhole, cradling her aching wrist to her chest. “I’m fine, Joe. Thank you, but I need to check on my foxhole.”
“Alright, be careful,” he called after her as she made her way back toward her foxhole, her chest tight with anxiety. As the shock and adrenaline from the bombardment began to fade, the reality of (y/n)’s situation settled in: her wrist was not just a minor discomfort. What had initially felt like a sharp jab upon impact turned into a persistent, gnawing pain radiating from her wrist and traveling up her arm like tendrils of fire.
Each movement she made, whether to clutch her rifle or steady herself against the uneven ground, sent surges of pain shooting through her hand and forearm. With each passing second, the pain seemed to intensify, becoming an unrelenting companion in the desolate frozen landscape. Her fingers, once nimble and deft in handling her rifle, now felt like lead, unresponsive and clumsy. The smallest tasks, like brushing off the clinging snow or gripping her canteen, became monumental efforts, each movement a harsh reminder of the shelling. A simple flex of her wrist, something that she took for granted in the past, was now an act that set off sharp jolts of pain. (Y/n) found herself trying to ignore the pain, focusing on the task at hand, but the throbbing in her arm seemed to pulse in sync with her heartbeat, making it impossible to overlook. She knew she should probably see Roe about it, but she heard he didn’t have much to work with. So, she made the choice not to burden their already diminished supplies on what was likely just a sprain.
After a while, she found herself approaching the spot she’d left Malarkey and Skip, scanning the area for signs of life. The once-snow-draped ground was now a maze of impact craters and debris. As she reached the foxhole, her heart swelled with relief seeing Skip and Don huddled inside, still in one piece.
“Hey,” she called out, her voice cutting through the eerie calm. Relief washed over her as they looked up, their faces lighting up at the sight of her.
“(Y/n/n)!” Don exclaimed, a hand clutching his chest dramatically. “We were worried!”
Muck tossed his helmet towards her, a hint of concern on his face. The helmet collided with her wrist, causing her to stifle a cry. “Take a look at this crap, (y/n). They peppered my helmet!”
Gently cradling her wrist, she examined the shot-up helmet in her lap, a half smile playing on her lips. “Good thing you weren’t wearing it, Skip. Was everyone okay over here? I ended up in Lieb’s foxhole.”
“Wasted my dagum coffee,” Smokey lamented from the foxhole ahead of theirs. “It was a whole helmet-full, too.”
A chuckle bubbled from her lips as she watched him setting his contraption back up. “I’m sorry, Smoke. Next time, you should tell the krauts to wait until you’ve had your coffee to shell the crap out of us.”
“You know, I might just do that,” Smokey mused, staring out at the German line with a faraway look. “We need a break.”
“Oh, (y/n),” Don interjected, fishing for something in his pockets. “Do you have any morphine in your aid kit from Holland? Doc’s looking for some.”
“Mine got used up when I got hit,” she replied, her mind drifting back to that night outside Arnhem. “That feels like so long ago now.”
Skip, ever the calculating one, counted on his fingers thoughtfully. “It’s only been what, three months?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, staring into the forest as she contemplated the whirlwind of events since that time. Between getting shot, going to the hospital, then Paris with Lew, and now Bastogne, a lot happened in those three months.
Their conversation carried on, but (y/n) was lost in her thoughts. Her life had changed drastically in this span of time, the most significant development being her newfound relationship with Lewis. A mere week and a half had passed since Paris, yet it felt like a lifetime. Memories of the quaint cafes and charming streets danced in her mind, a reminder of what they were fighting for…a return to a life untouched by the horrors of war.
A crunch of snow behind her snapped her back to the present. She grabbed her rifle, swiftly turning, a surge of pain shooting up her arm. A grimace contorted her face as she eased the strain, her aim dropping as she recognized Lip.
“(Y/n), Winters wants to see you,” he relayed, crouching beside her.
“We’ll catch up later, alright?” Don patted her shoulder gently, a worried look in his gaze as he looked down at her wrist.
“Duty calls, boys. See ya later.”
She pushed herself off the snow with her good hand and started following Lip toward Captain Winter’s tent. As they walked, she saw the destruction the various shellings had left in their wake. Trees were downed everywhere, feet-long splinters littered the snow, and there was the occasional red stain of blood on the white ground.
“Can you believe it’s just a few days till Christmas?” Lip’s voice broke the silence, filled with nostalgia and yearning.
She nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? I remember my last Christmas home so vividly…and now, here we are two years later.”
He glanced at her, a fond smile on his face, despite the flicker of sorrow in his eyes. “My wife, JoAnne, makes the best gingerbread cookies on the planet, and I can just see her in the kitchen, working her tail off to make them for our family Christmas party.”
(Y/n)’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “What I wouldn’t give for some gingerbread cookies,” she sighed. “It’s just…well, being away from family at this time, it’s tough. But at least we have each other, right?”
“Yeah,” he replied, nodding ahead of him. “Here we are.”
“Thanks for walking with me, Lip,” (y/n) grinned, approaching the foxhole.
“You’re welcome,” Carwood grinned. “And (y/n), get that wrist checked out.”
Her mouth slightly agape, she looked at him in disbelief. “What?”
“I’m not as clueless as the others. Get it looked at.” His eyes held a genuine concern.
Nodding at him, she walked up to the hole where Dick was crouched, writing a letter. “Captain Winters, sir?”
He looked up from his letter, and an uncharacteristic smirk formed on his face when he recognized her. “(Y/n). Nix wanted to speak with you.”
A flush colored her cheeks as she stood there. “Oh, alright. Where is he?”
Winters nodded to the hole ahead of him. “I’m right here, so please don't try any-”
A blanket was thrown off the adjacent foxhole and Nixon popped out, his dark hair a mess atop his head. “Gosh, Dick, we’re not gonna do anything,” he hissed, rolling his eyes.
Embarrassment coursed through (y/n) at the implication, and she brought a hand to her face, wishing she could disappear. “Yes sir,” she stammered, her voice slightly uneasy as she walked over to Lewis.
“Are you crazy?” she asked, casting anxious glances around the forest.
Nix shrugged and pointed to Winters. “We’re fine. Dick’s gonna keep a lookout…right Dick?”
“I’m going to be writing my letter,” Winters replied, not looking up. “And I’m not seeing this.”
“Thanks, pal,” Lew called, extending a hand to help (y/n) into the hole.
“Alright,” she muttered, unable to keep a nervous smile from playing on her lips a the thought of some time with him. She started to take his hand with her hurt one, but quickly switched hands, letting the other painfully dangle at her side. He gave her a questioning look as she took his hand, but (y/n) just shook her head, dismissing his concern. To her surprise, he seemed to let it go.
Nix’s foxhole was a decent size, and (y/n) carefully tried to settle against his side without showing her injury. He pulled the blanket over the top of the hole, insulating the space and giving them a sliver of privacy. Looking around, she spotted an empty pack of Lucky Strikes and his silver flask in the dirt beside her.
“I really like what you did with the place,” she grinned, kicking the empty box with her foot.
Lew chuckled, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her close, placing a soft kiss in her hair. “Yeah. Interior decorating was always Blanche’s thing.”
His warmth seeped through her frozen uniform, and she sighed contentedly, resting her head on her shoulder as she closed her eyes. The throbbing pain in her hand seemed to slightly fade in his comforting presence.
“How are things on the line? We still get artillery back here, but it’s not as bad as up there,” he asked quietly, leaning his head atop hers.
“It’s not good, Lew,” she mumbled into his neck. “We’re running low on everything, and the krauts seem to have an endless stream of artillery. It’s like they’re not even affected by the cold or anything. We’re just holding our ground and doing what we can.”
He tightened his grip around her, attempting to offer some comfort. “But you’re holding up okay?”
A half-hearted smile tugged at her lips, tinged with sadness. “We’re surviving, but it’s getting harder every day. The men are tired, Lew. We’re all tired. We’re all hungry. We’re all cold.”
“I know, doll,” he sighed. “Sink and General McAuliffe stopped by earlier, and they didn’t have any good news. Last night, I took a walk on the line at about 0300 and I couldn’t find the 501st on our right flank. I had to pull in 2nd platoon to fill the gap, but the General seemed like he couldn't care less.”
(Y/n) groaned. “His relentless optimism kills me. At least Sink is realistic.”
“‘Hold the line and close the gaps’, was all he said. And that 1st battalion just pulled out of Foy with krauts on their tail…so there’s a bunch of crap coming our way.”
“Of course there is,” she grumbled, bringing her knees up to her chest.
Lew’s thoughts became consumed by worry for (y/n) and what was going to be thrown her way. He gently traced circles on her back, trying to find the right words. “I can’t help but be worried about you, (y/n/n). Knowing you’re out there every time I hear a shelling, it’s…it’s tough.”
She sat up and turned to face him, her eyes reflecting the same fear. “I know, Lew. I’m scared, too. But I’m doing what I can to take care of myself and the guys. We watch out for each other.”
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his voice. “It’s just hard being here, not able to do much, not even being able to be with you when you’re out there facing the worst of it.”
“You’re doing more than you think,” she said, gently touching his arm. “This helps me so much.”
Lew brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face, his cold fingers gentle on her warm cheek. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t take any extra risks��please.”
(Y/n) looked into his eyes, finding a sea of emotion. “I promise,” she replied, her voice equally soft.
Nix leaned in, slowly closing the distance between them, his eyes flickering to her lips before meeting her gaze once more. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss as Lew cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow down as they kissed, a sense of calm washing over them. As they pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the chilly air.
“Have you been able to keep warm at all?” Lew asked softly, his fingers tracing over her gloved hand gently.
(Y/n) nodded, trying to keep her discomfort at bay. “As warm as one can be out here.”
Lew noticed her wincing slightly and, concerned, his hand unintentionally brushed against her injured wrist. She gasped, tears brimming her eyes as pain shot through her arm.
His eyes widened, fear coursing through him as he quickly retracted his hand “(Y/n)? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
(Y/n) leaned her head back against the hard wall of dirt behind her with a thud. “I tripped during the shelling earlier and landed on it wrong,” she whispered, voice trembling as she cradled her wrist.
“(Y/n),” Lew sighed, his heart aching at her pain. “Have you seen Doc?”
She shook her head, tears welling up. “No, not yet.”
He reached for her hand slowly. “Let me see it, sweetheart. I’ll be careful.”
She hesitantly extended her gloved hand to him, a single tear leaking down her rosy cheek. “You’re okay,” he cooed, holding her forearm with one hand while the other carefully slid the glove off.
“Shit,” Lew muttered, his brows furrowing at the sight of her wrist. “This is bad, (y/n).”
His concern deepened as he saw the extent of the injury. He had expected it to be sore, maybe a minor sprain, but what he saw made his heart clench with worry and anger. Her once delicate wrist was now swollen to nearly twice its usual size, the skin on her palm and wrist discolored in ominous hues of deep purple and angry black.
“(Y/n/n),” he said gently, his voice soothing to her distress. “We need to get you to Doc. This could be broken.”
The tears finally fell from her eyes in a mixture of pain and frustration. “I know,” she whispered, her voice quivering. “But the medics are already low on supplies, and they need that for others that are worse off.”
Lew cupped her cheek tenderly, wiping away a tear with his thumb. “Just because someone may be worse, doesn’t mean you can’t be looked after, too. Let me take care of you, please.”
(Y/n)’s expression softened, touched by his sincerity. “Okay,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
He held her wrist gently, a tenderness in his eyes that melted her worries, even if just for a moment. He brushed a feather-light kiss on her injured wrist, a silent promise that he’d take care of her. Nix helped her slide the glove back on, ensuring it offered some support for her wrist. He then threw off the blanket and helped her to her feet, his arm securely around her for support. She wasn’t going to let her injury hold her back, but she knew she needed to get it checked before it got any worse.
Winter’s eyes widened at the pair’s dramatic exit from the foxhole. “You alright, (y/l/n)?” he asked, eyes furrowed in confusion.
“She hurt her wrist,” Lew replied, glancing at Dick who nodded in response. “We’re finding Roe.”
They found Gene in his foxhole, staring off into the forest, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Hey Gene,” Nix called, catching the man off guard. He jumped slightly, turning around like a deer in headlights.
He sighed seeing who it was. “Captain Nixon, what can I do for ya, sir?”
“(Y/n) here took a tumble during the shelling. Her wrist is pretty banged up.”
Roe nodded, motioning for her to sit down on the edge of the foxhole. “Let’s have a look, chérie.
She did as told, taking a deep breath to brace herself for any pain. The cajun carefully peeled off the glove from her injured hand, revealing the purple and black bruises. The medic furrowed his brows at the sight, his experienced eyes evaluating the damage. He lightly prodded along the wrist, feeling for any unusual shifts in the bones beneath.
“I’m worried there might be a hairline fracture here,” he explained, his voice carrying a tinge of concern. “But I can’t confirm it without a proper x-ray, and we don’t have any equipment like that back in Bastogne.”
(Y/n) nodded, bracing herself for what she knew was coming. “So, what can we do?”
Roe began to secure her wrist carefully with a makeshift splint, wrapping it snugly to provide some stability and reduce the risk of further damage. “Right now, we’ll immobilize it as best as we can. I’ll wrap it up, and you need to keep it still as much as possible. Ice will help with the swelling.”
Smirking at the situation, (y/n) couldn’t resist a touch of humor. “Well, at least we’ve got an abundance of ice around,” she quipped, waving her good hand at the frozen forest surrounding them. “Nature’s icebox, right?”
Lew chuckled at her attempt to lighten the mood. “The best ice supply in Bastogne,” he replied, playing along.
As Gene finished the wrapping, she flexed her fingers slightly, testing the newfound stability. The pain had dulled a bit, and it was a relief, albeit a temporary one. They thanked Roe and went on their way.
“I’ve got to go back to the boys,” she said, peering up at him as they walked.
Lew nodded. “Take it easy, alright? Your arm can’t heal if you keep using it.”
“Yes, sir, Doctor Nixon,” she grinned, fake saluting him with a playful twinkle in her eyes.
They made their way to her foxhole, and Lew resisted the urge to give her a kiss, aware of the many eyes watching. Instead, he gently patted her helmet, a gesture that he’d decided was his new favorite because it sent the front of it down past her eyes.
“Malarkey,” Nix called out, waving his over. “Don’t let this one overdo it. Roe said she needs to take it easy.”
Though he was confused, Don nodded. “Yes, sir.”
With a subtle wink, Lew turned and left for his own foxhole.
“What happened to you?” Skip asked, eyeing her wrapped wrist as he appeared next to Don. “Did the Captain take care of you?”
(Y/n) laughed under her breath, watching Lew’s figure disappear into the white haze of the forest. “I’m alright.”
Malarkey’s eyes widened as he turned to Muck. “She’s not denying it, Skip!”
“I knew it!” Skip exclaimed triumphantly, the corners of his mouth curling into a grin. She began to walk away when Don gasped suddenly.
“We have to tell you about Hinkle!”
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Epiphany Pt. 9: Lover
Lewis Nixon x Reader
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Inspo: Lover (First Dance Version): Taylor Swift
A/N: the awaited chapter is here!!! i hope y'all enjoy! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
Word Count: 5k
Summary: As (y/n) and Lew explore Paris, the city itself seems to push them together, and the city of love brings them together atop the Eiffel Tower in a beautiful culmination of the past few years.
(Y/n) woke up with the sun, its gentle rays filtering through her room’s curtains, casting a warm, golden hue on everything it touched. She let out a soft, tired yawn and gracefully extended her limbs, feeling a slight twinge as the mended muscles in her side protested at the movement. The wound, though healed, still sent stabs of discomfort whenever she exerted herself or took a breath too deeply.
A sigh escaped her, and she glanced at the clock by her bedside: 8:34 AM. Then, a wide, contented smile curved her lips as the memories of the incredible night spent with Lew danced in her mind. The magical evening had brought them even closer, and the potential of the day ahead filled her with excitement.
Throwing back the covers, she carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, her heart already beating a little faster in anticipation. Clad in her PT shirt and shorts, she tiptoed to the hallway, steps light with excitement. As (y/n) knocked on Lew’s door, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjá vu. The last time she stood there, it was with a different kind of worry; a deep-rooted concern for his well-being. But today, it was all about the anticipation of the day ahead.
Expecting to find Nix either still asleep or in the process of waking up, she was surprised when he opened the door, fully dressed and ready for the day. She raised a brow in suspicion at the unexpected sight.
“Good morning,” he chirped, his gaze subtly trailing down her body to her bare legs before he seemed to catch himself, letting her in his room. It was almost an identical match to hers, right down to the less-than-appealing bright orange bedspread. She playfully plopped down on the mostly made-up bed.
“Where are you headed off to? I didn’t even think you’d be up,” she remarked, curiosity lacing her words.
Leaning against the closed door, he rolled his eyes, a light blush gracing his cheeks “Well, I have a big day planned for us, so we need to get an early start.”
(Y/n) looked at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement, her eyes narrowing. “Who are you, and what have you done with Lewis Nixon?”
He chuckled, moved closer to her and took her hand, leading her toward the door. “Go get ready and I’ll come get you in an hour.”
“What have you got planned, Lew?” She asked, a sense of anticipation building within her. Opening her door, she leaned against its frame. “Please tell me,” she begged, peeing up into his soft browns.
“You’ll just have to wait and see, (y/n/n),” he grinned mischievously. “Trust me, you’re gonna love it.”
Sighing with a fake pout, she entered her room, giving him a wary look.
”Go on,” Lew retorted, playfully gesturing for her to shut the door. “I’m not gonna tell you…yet.”
The twinkle in his eyes promised a day of adventure, and with the click of the door, she began running around getting ready. Excitement bubbled within her, and the thought of spending the whole day with Lew, exploring Paris, made her heart flutter. She quickly changed out of her PT gear and into her khaki service uniform, paired with a jacket.
In what felt like no time, she was ready and stood before the small mirror, adjusting her clothes with a smile. The longer she inspected her reflection, the more her smile fell. The memories of donning flattering dresses for dances and nights out with friends tugged at her heart.
A light knock on the door startled her from her thoughts, and she opened it to find Lew waiting outside holding a package, wearing his own khaki service uniform.
“Special delivery,” he grinned.
As (y/n) spotted the package in Nix’s hands, confusion danced in her eyes. She had no inkling of what could be inside. She hesitated for a moment, surprised by the unexpected gesture, then took the package from him with a warm but puzzled smile.
“Is this…for me?” she asked, turning the package over in her hands.
Lewis nodded, the corner of his lips quirking into a smile. “Open it.”
With a hint of skepticism, she moved to the bed and sat down. Her fingers traced the edges of the wrapping, feeling the paper under her touch. She slowly tore it open, revealing the lavish box within. As (y/n) opened the box, her eyes widened in surprise and delight. She gently lifted its contents from the box, a soft fabric flowing through her fingers.
It was the dress from the shop window.
The colors were beautiful, a blend of blues and greens, like that of the ocean on a clear day. It was absolutely beautiful, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
“How did you…?” she started, lost for words.
Leaning against the doorframe, he grinned. “A little bit of magic. I have my ways.”
“Oh, Lew,” she breathed, looking up at his with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. “This is…wow.”
“Try it on,” Lew encouraged gently, noting her hesitation.
Her voice was full of pure joy as she hugged him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Feeling her excitement, Lew chuckled softly. It was a joy to see her so happy, and the sound of her laughter filled the room, making everything seem a little brighter. She pulled back slightly and planted a grateful kiss on his cheek. It was a soft touch that left a lingering warmth on his skin. He could feel the gentle press of her lips, a touch that seemed to linger for a moment longer.
Nix grinned down at her as she pulled away. “Go on,” he urged, nodding toward the bathroom.
She hurriedly went to change, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. Slipping out of her boxy service uniform, she carefully slid into the dress. As she stood before the mirror, clad in the dress, her breath caught in her throat. It was a sight she hadn’t seen in years, a vision of femininity that had been suppressed for years. The dress draped over her frame gracefully, the fabric gently caressing her skin. Her eyes met her reflection, and for a moment, she was taken aback. It was her, and yet, it felt like she was seeing someone else. The woman in the mirror was strong, resilient, and beautiful. The dress, with its simple yet elegant design, accentuated her features, highlighting the curves and lines of her body.
Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting the myriad of emotions swirling within her. It had been so long since she felt like a woman; feminine, delicate, and simply herself. The war had taken so much from her, including the chance to embrace her womanhood. But in this moment, in this dress, she felt a glimpse of it once more. She took a deep breath and attempted to zip up the back of the dress. Despite her efforts, she found it surprisingly difficult to do it on her own. The zipper seemed determined to elude her, mocking her efforts.
(Y/n) emerged from the bathroom, her steps tentative, but her face radiant with a newfound sense of confidence. Her hair was down, and her eyes shone with a captivating blend of excitement and nervousness. She stopped a few feet from him, allowing him to take her in. Nix’s eyes widened, and she couldn’t help but blush under his gaze. It was an unspoken compliment that made her feel more beautiful than she had in years.
Lew was momentarily struck by her beauty, a mixture of awe and adoration enveloping him. He had seen her in her uniform every day, but this was different; She looked like a vision, like a magnificent piece of art that hung in the Louvre. He stood up off the doorframe, a beaming smile gracing his face as he took in her appearance.
“Would you mind…uh…zipping me up?” she asked, a blush tinting her cheeks. It was a simple request, but it held a significance that made her heart flutter. For Lewis, her request set his heart racing. It was an intimate act, and he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Of course,” he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.
As she turned, her back exposed, he saw how the dress delicately revealed her skin. She brushed her hair gently to the side. (Y/n)’s skin was bare against the zipper, and Lew could feel his fingers trembling slightly with nervousness. He took a steadying breath, trying to focus on the task at hand.
His fingertips brushed against her back as began to pull the zipper up, his touch light and cautious, yet filled with a tenderness he couldn’t contain. The sensation of her bare skin beneath his fingers sent shivers down his spine, igniting a warmth that spread through him. Lew tried to keep his focus on the zipper, on the task at hand, but he couldn’t help being acutely aware of her presence and the intimacy of the moment.
As Nix finished zipping up her dress, he paused for a moment, taking in the sight before him. (Y/n) looked stunning, the dress accentuating her features in a way that made his breath catch. He felt a surge of pride that he had chosen something that made her smile and feel beautiful.
When she turned to face him, her cheeks dusted pink with a sheepish smile and he grinned back. “You look absolutely breathtaking,” he breathed, his voice laced with awe.
“Thank you, Lew,” she replied. “That means more to me than you know.”
Nix gently brushed a few strands of her (y/h/c) hair back from her face. His fingers were careful and tender, lightly grazing her skin, allowing her to feel their warmth. For a brief second, their eyes locked unspoken emotions passing between them like a silent conversation.
In that moment, it was as if time slowed down. She felt his touch, gentle and reassuring, and something more; a connection that stirred her. The intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on either of them.
He stepped back, breaking the gentle spell, and gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”
(Y/n) closed the door behind her with a wide smile. “Absolutely.”
As they made their way to the lobby, she noticed the bustling atmosphere of the hotel. Guests were going about their day, the sound of chatter and laughter filling the air. There was a certain charm to it, one that she’d come to associate with the beautiful city.
Lew held the door for her as they stepped out into the lively Parisian streets. It was a beautiful morning, the city alive despite how desolate the night before had been. The crisp air carried the faint smell of coffee and pastries, mixing with the sounds of distant street musicians and the lively chatter of the bustling city.
“So what’s first on the agenda?” She asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.
He beamed, tucking his arm through hers as they strolled down the street. “Breakfast.”
(Y/n) chucked, feeling pure joy as they wandered through the vibrant streets, looking for the perfect café to start their adventure.
After a hearty breakfast and several cups of coffee to fuel them for the day, (y/n) and Lewis set out for the day’s adventures. Lew guided her through the cobbled streets, past charming little shops, cafés, and artistic displays. The world seemed to be at ease, the Eiffel Tower standing tall in the distance.
As they walked, he shared stories of the city, tales of its history, art, and its resilience under Nazi occupation. She listened intently, captivated by both the tales and the storyteller himself. Every once in a while, he’d move his hand to her waist to direct her through a crowd, and each time, a gentle flutter danced in her chest.
They found themselves in Montmartre, a place seemingly frozen in time with its cobbled streets and rustic buildings. It was there that they stumbled upon a charming art gallery tucked away on a cobblestone side street. Sharing an intrigued look, they decided to step inside.
Lew’s eyes were drawn to a particular piece that captured his attention: a painting of Paris at night. The artist had beautifully blended dark blues and purples to form the backdrop of the city with twinkling lights like stars on the ground. The Eiffel Tower stood tall, a beacon of bright elegance against the dark canvas.
“Look at his,” he said, gesturing toward the work.
(Y/n) stared at the piece in wonder. “I don’t know how people are so talented.”
“Me neither.”
As they stood before the painting, they became captivated by the way the artist had recreated the magic of Paris after dark. It was a beautiful representation of the city and echoing its vibrant nightlife. The gallery held many such treasures, each reflecting the essence of the city they had grown to love. After a few hours of perusing the artwork and exploring, Lewis led them to their next stop.
In the heart of Paris, Notre Dame Cathedral stood as a timeless testament to history and faith. (Y/n) and Lew approached the iconic structure, awestruck by its intricate details and towering spires.
They stepped into the cool, dim interior, and were greeted by the hushed whispers of other visitors. Rays of sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the worn wooden pews and mosaic floor.
“This is my mother’s favorite,” Nix spoke, his voice hushed. “She loved to come here and pray.”
(Y/n) watched his eyes slowly rise to the cross at the front of the sanctuary as he continued quietly. “She needs it being married to my father.”
Sliding his arm from hers, she wrapped her hand around his bicep, squeezing softly in a gesture that told him she was there. “We’d sometimes come here just to get away. She never told Blanche and I, but we knew.”
Their footsteps echoed through the ancient halls as they slowly walked down the aisle. (Y/n) could sense the weight of Lew’s memories as he revisited the cathedral. She was honored to be allowed into a part of his life that was incredibly personal, but also heartbroken that he had such memories.
“I’m sorry,” (y/n) said gently, her voice filled with empathy.
He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “Visiting here makes me feel close to her. I miss her more than I thought I would. Her and Blanche both.”
They reached the side chapel, its walls adorned with flickering candles and well-worn prayer benches. Lew paused, gazing at a flickering candle as if lost in thought.
“When I visited alone, sometimes I’d light a candle for her,” he continued, his voice still soft. “I’d pray for her peace, for our family.”
(Y/n) watched the flame, feeling incredible respect for the woman who shaped him into the man he was today; the man she’d fallen in love with. She imagined the strength it must have taken for Lew’s mother to endure and protect her children.
“Your mother sounds like an incredible woman,” she murmured.
He nodded, a distant look in his eyes. “She is. Back home, she’s the national vice-president of the AWVS.”
(Y/n)’s eyes widened slightly. “Wow. That’s amazing.”
Looking down at her, he grinned, a glint of love in his eyes. “So are you,” he whispered as he gently hooked his arm around hers began leading them to the exit.
(Y/n)’s face warmed as they stepped out into the chilly Parisian air, and Lew took a deep breath, exhaling a sense of relief. “(Y/n), thank you.”
“For what?” she asked.
“For being there.”
She gently squeezed his arm, offering a somforting smile. “Always.”
It was around noon by the time they made their way back to the main street after visiting the beautiful Luxembourg gardens. Amidst the lively street scene, (y/n) noticed a quaint bookshop, its windows decorated with book covers and handwritten signs announcing what she guessed were the latest arrivals.
She gasped softly, her eyes brightening with excitement as she pulled on Nix’s arm. “Lew, look at that bookshop! Can we go in?”
He smiled at her eagerness. “Lead the way, corporal.”
They stepped into the bookshop, and (y/n) felt a rush of warmth and nostalgia. The scent of old and new books mingled, and the soft lighting created a cozy atmosphere. Wooden shelved reached the ceiling, packed with books of varying sizes, colors, and languages.
“This is what I imagine heaven is like,” (y/n) whispered, her eyes alight with glee.
Her eyes danced with delight as she roamed the aisles, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books. Lew watched her, admiring the way her face lit up with each new discovery, her enthusiasm infectious. He might not be an avid reader, but seeing her so joyful made his heart swell. As she continued to explore the shelves, Lewis found himself pulled into her enthusiasm. He picked up a few books that seemed interesting to him, mostly based on historical events and memoirs.
As they browsed through the shelves, they would occasionally pick out a book that caught their eye, sharing it with the other. They read aloud interesting excerpts, laughing or pondering over the words.They spent a good amount of time immersed in the shelves, exchanging stories and good conversation. Sometimes, their fingers brushed against each other, causing a blush to creep onto their faces.
Lew was engrossed in the books before him as (y/n) browsed the neighboring bookshelf. She couldn’t help but steal glances at the man she was completely in love with. His focused expression hinted at the stories and emotions the books invoked within him. Fascinated by the glint in his eye and the subtle smile gracing hi lips, (y/n) drifted closer to him.
Lew’s deep boice pulled her from her thoughts, his words tinged with excitement. “Hey, (y/n). I think you’ll like this one,” he called, holding up a slightly worn book with a dark red cover.
Her eyes widened in amazement as she read the title,”Roméo et Juliette.” A gasp of delight escaped her lips. “No way! And it’s in French!” she exclaimed. “I don’t speak French, but I have to have this.”
She watched as Nix smiled, the affection in his gaze not lost on her. “Mon cœur a-t-il aimé jusqu'à présent?” he began, the words rolling off his tongue beautifully. renoncez-y, vue! Car je n'ai jamais vu la vraie beauté jusqu'à cette nuit.”
Entranced by his almost perfect french, she listened intently as his gaze remained on her. The way he looked at her made her feel cherished and appreciated, as if she were the most beautiful story in this quaint bookstore.
“What does it mean?” she asked softly, her voice unsteady under his gaze.
Lew shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “It’s a quote from Romeo and Juliet, but I can’t remember which part.”
(Y/n) raised a speculative eyebrow as amusement danced in her eyes. “If you say so,” she paused, grabbing the book from his hand. “I’m gonna get this.”
Little did she know that he knew exactly what he’d said.
“Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For i ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”
Later That Night:
The city was awash with the golden hues of twilight, slowly surrendering to the incandescent glow of a thousand streetlights. (Y/n) and Lewis strolled arm in arm down a broad, bustling street, their breath visible in the cold evening air, drawing them closer together in search of warmth. A musician serenaded the area with the sweet melodies of his violin from a nearby street corner. The couple walked in silence. It was welcome, but (y/n) decided to break it with a question.
“So,” she began softly, the night breeze carrying her words gently into the air. “What do you think you’ll do when we finally go home?”
Lew looked down at her, the soft glow of the streetlights playing across his features. An indiscernible expression passed over his face as he carefully chose his words. “I honestly don’t know,” he replied, hiding his true desire. “I think I’m going to offer Dick a position to work for me at the Nitration Works.”
In truth, he knew exactly what he wanted to do when he got home. He wanted to marry the woman in front of him, to start a life with her, to build a future together. But those words remained unsaid, guarded in his heart as he waited for the right moment to reveal them.
Her thoughtful gaze met his, and a playful grin tugged at her lips. “What if someone else happened to be looking for a job? Someone like your best friend?
Lew chuckled, masking the way his heart jolted at the suggestion. “Ehh,” he shrugged, his expression light-hearted. “Harry’s gonna marry Kitty the second we get back, so-”
(Y/n) mockingly scoffed, releasing his arm and stepping back, feigning offense. “Shut up! You’re such a-”
But her rebuke was halted as he gently drew her back toward him, his hand resting warmly on her waist, bringing her almost flush against his chest. In that moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, and a wave of shudders passed through her.
“-Wonderful human being?” He finished, a knowing glint in his eyes and a touch of mischief in his voice. They stood close, their breaths mingling in the chilly air. “I think something can be arranged. I do know the owners, after all.”
“You wouldn’t get tired of me?” (Y/n) mumbled, feeling his warm breath on her face, the possibility both thrilling and nerve-wracking.
His eyes locked onto hers, seeing a future reflected in their depths. “Never. I’ll never get tired of you, (y/n/n).”
A tender smile crept across her lips, her heart pulsating with a mixture of excitement and affection. “Well,” she softly murmured, laying a gentle hand on his chest. “I’m glad that’s settled, then.”
“Good,” he whispered, his voice smooth as honey. ”Look up.”
(Y/n) glanced at him briefly before lifting her gaze to follow his. Her eyes widened at the sight of the Eiffel Tower before her and how it seemingly touched the clouds.
“Wow,” she breathed, the wonder and awe evident in her voice as she took in the sight. “It’s more beautiful than I could ever imagine.”
Lew’s eyes softened as he looked at her, a smile gracing his features. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “More than words can describe.”
Her awestruck gaze shifted to him, and he turned and held his hand out for her, the other gesturing toward the tower’s entrance. “Shall we?”
Nodding, she took his hand, intertwining their fingers softly, a heat spreading up her arm at the contact. Together, they made their way toward the entrance, anticipation in the air as they boarded the lift and ascended the tower. The iron structure offered a breathtaking view of Paris, like a million stars scattered across the earth. The Seine River glimmered below, winding its way through the heart of the city.
Reaching the topmost platform, they exited the lift and icy wind hit their faces. (Y/n) instinctively turned into Lew, and he wrapped an arm around her waist carefully, pulling her into his side. They made their way to the railing and leaned against it, taking in the panorama before them. At the top of the tower, amidst the twinkling lights of Paris, the air was charged with expectation, and the city below them a dreamy canvas where romance seemed to linger in every corner.
“It’s like a sea of lights,” (y/n) marveled, her voice tinged with wonder.
Lew nodded, captivated by her. “It never gets old.”
They stood there holding the other close, lost in the beauty of the scene. The night seemed to stretch endlessly, time freezing as they reveled in the magic of the moment. After a while, Lew looked down at her in his arms, his gaze soft.
“You know,” he began, voice gentle. “Today has been one of the best days I’ve ever had.”
She smiled, the moment washing over her like a warm embrace. “Me too, Lewis. There’s no place I’d rather be.”
This was it.
Lew hesitated for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before turning to face her and taking her hand in his. “(Y/n), you’re the most important person in my life.”
When you got hit,” he continued, his voice strained but steady as he cleared his throat. “I realized that I can’t live without you. When you were gone, I-” His voice trailed off, a lump forming in his throat as he grappled with the memories of that moment.
(Y/n) stood in front of him, her breath held and heart thundering in her chest. The gravity of his words sank in, and she searched his eyes, finding a vulnerability she’d glimpsed only once before: the moment she lay bleeding out before him as he begged her to stay awake. She couldn’t bear to hear more and her heart urged her to act. So, before he could continue, a surge of courage and longing flowed through her. She slid her hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him down toward her slowly. Lew then tugged her tightly against him, her body fitting perfectly into his embrace. The warmth of her presence, the scent of her hair, and the beating of her heart against his chest fueled the intensity of the moment.
As their lips met, it was an electric collision of emotions. Passion surged through their veins, a fierce and tender connection that ignited a fire within them. Her lips were soft and yielding as Lew fervently deepened the kiss, fueled by years of unvoiced affection. He slid his hand up her waist, feeling the curve of her body. His fingers gently cupped her jaw, tilting her head for a deeper connection.
(Y/n) responded in kind, her arms wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer. Her hand slid into his hair, fingers intertwining with the soft strands. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath her touch, matching the tempo of her own.
As they reluctantly pulled away, their breathless pants mingled in the cold night air creating a visible mist. Their lips tingled, the echoes of the kiss lingering. Nix could feel his heart racing, an adrenaline-fueled excitement that made him momentarily forget the cold. He smiled, his cheeks flushed with a mix of cold air and warmth from their embrace.
“Wow.” he managed to say, breathless and amazed.
(Y/n) laughed, a delightful sound that filled the space around them. “Yeah, wow,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with joy and love.
They stood there, caught in a bubble of euphoria, their laughter ringing in the Parisian night. The world below seemed to carry on, but for that moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in the magic of the Eiffel Tower.
Lewis brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle and affectionate. “I’ve wanted to do that for years, you know. You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.
Blushing, (y/n)’s smile widened. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for years,” she teased, her fingers tracing patterns on his coat.
“What?” He asked in disbelief. “I didn’t know that!”
She shrugged. “Well, for an intelligence officer, you can be clueless.”
Smirking, he brought her close once more, their foreheads touching. “I love you. More than anything,” he whispered. His hand, warm and gentle, cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing circles as if to memorize every contour.
(Y/n) smiled, a radiant expression that illuminated the darkness around them. “I love you, too,” she responded, her voice tender, as if afraid this might still be a dream.
The years of unspoken feelings, the shared laughter, the late-night conversations…they had all led to this moment. The Eiffel Tower, with all its history and romantic lore, bore witness to the birth of their love story.
Their lips met again, softer this time, a gentle affirmation of their confessions. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and futures. Nix let his hand fall from her cheek to her waist, pulling her close in a tender embrace.
(Y/n) rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a comforting rhythm, a reminder that they had crossed the line they’d been wanting for the longest time.
“I never want this moment to end,” Lew whispered, his voice a tender murmur.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love and a tinge of sadness. “Me neither. I wish we could always be this close.”
He nodded, a sense of completeness settling in his heart. The view of Paris below them was still breathtaking, but it paled in comparison to their love, which encompassed their world, lighting it in a dazzling haze.
(Y/n) gasped suddenly, the sound echoing in the cold air and joltingLew from his thoughts. He looked at her, concern furrowing his brow. “What?” He asked, eyes widening with a mix of surprise and worry.
“Is this why Dick gave us the passes?” She asked, amusement filling her voice.
Nix’s laughter joined the chorus of the Parisian night, a hearty sound that seemed to reverberate through the beams of the tower itself. He found himself shrugging, an innocent look on his face. “Maybe,” he admitted, mischief floating in his eyes.
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#band od brothers#mads' rambles#mads fandoms#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers#band of brothers imagine#lewis nixon#band of brothers fanfic#easy company#band of brothers imagines#hbo war#mads' writing mania#mads' fandoms#easy company imagines#easy company x reader#easy company x y/n#band of brothers series#band of brothers fic#dick winters#carwood lipton#richard winters#lewis nixon fluff#lewis nixon imagines#lewis nixon imagine#lewis nixon x reader#lewis nixon angst#lewis nixon x reader angst#damian lewis#lewis nixon hurt/comfort#nix x reader
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One Dickiebird. (gift for a friend)
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SHIT MY GF IS LIKING MY SHIT. DON'T LOOK AT ME, I KNOW I'VE BEEN AWAKE FOR DAYS, but like I'm still down to go and dance and shit.
#I'M SORRY I THINK THIS maybe IS WHAT THEY CALL 'MANIA'#Cause like... I'm feeling that up again where I become self centered and start hating everyone unless they praise me and suck my dick#and I'm getting all these emotions and stuff back and idk how to explain it#brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa at all times#vent#vent post#and I can't stop typing#starting new shit#and then forgetting halfway through.
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it is done 😔😔
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various tim loved ones: tim im begging you please get help
tim: BITING YOU BITING YOU BITING YOU BITING YOU
#or other times he is like dont care + didnt ask + youre conspiring against me with my favorite person in the world + biting you#or other OTHER times he is like ok :) i will do that (does something else (worse))#still other times . he will be like. its 'not mania its control' (this is a direct-ish quote the phrasing might be slightly off)#dc#timby#(sanctimonious tim fan voice) um well actually this is only tim when hes unusually unwell#(sisky voice again) Let Tim Be Unwell I Enjoy It#actually Make Tim Be Unwell#dicks been on and off really unwell since he was 17 too i see no reason tim shouldnt be.
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i'm dying lmao i thought that one post said dick 'mafia' instead of dick 'mania'
It did! @saint-official added that to the post where I said anon sounded like they were a 1920s gangster (and made me laugh)
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this jacket fucks so much harder than this beer.
#woke up today drowning in a spontaneous nosebleed.#wrestled w a laptop. laptop won.#got snowed on while walking roxy like that isnt the rudest thing in the world right now????????#found out the humane society vet is closed friday&saturday so im just going to go insane until i can get turbos urn back lol.#so you can bet your dick&balls i am not leaving this house again until i look at least halfway decent#&i found this jacket in the back of the closet the other day&am trusting it to help me get there lmao.#whiiiiile remaining warm&concealing the visible vibrating the Bad mania is being shitty w right now lol. balance.#its obv working bc this jacket is dope as fuck&my hair is not one giant knot&for once my skin isnt fucking itself up&ill take it. :')♡#yas
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Oh I thought you were talking about gonorrhea!
Accurate way to describe all the boys in the Jeju Shore collab lmfaooo @sailoryooons @gimmethatagustd @here2bbtstrash
oh, no, when i talking about "burning love" i wasn't talking about passion i was talking about arson. hope this clears things up!
#mango mania#bts fic recs#those fics are all RIDICULOUS and i love them#jimin in ed hardy lmfao#jk “i'm not gay i'm just proving I suck dick better than everyone else”#himbo taehyung is hansel from zoolander
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Epiphany Pt. 5: Breathe
Lewis Nixon x Reader
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
A/N: two posts within a few days?? what's this?? anyways, this is a short kind of filler, so i hope you enjoy! this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
Summary: People say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that is nothing but true after (y/n) and Lewis are separated in the aftermath of Market Garden.
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: mentions of wounds, straight fluff pining
OCTOBER, 1944: HOLLAND
For Lewis Nixon, the remainder of September had passed in a haze of numbness, and before he knew it, the calendar had turned to the first week of October. The once-warm Dutch air had seemingly overnight transformed into a chilling autumn breeze. On that crisp October day, he found himself in the Battalion CP, meticulously going over recovered German intelligence alongside Colonel Strayer.
Amidst their focus, a knock echoed through the small office, momentarily breaking the officer’s concentration. Colonel Strayer, engrossed in his reports, responded without looking up, “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and Vest stuck his head inside, offering a brief salute to the ranking officers before holding something out for Nix. “Cap’n, I have a letter here for ya.”
His heart leaped in his chest as he accepted the letter, instantly recognizing the familiar handwriting on the envelope. It was (y/n)’s handwriting.
Three long weeks had passed since she had been evacuated to the field hospital, and if he were honest with himself, he didn’t know how much longer he could endure her absence. The void left by her departure was suffocating, and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe without her by his side. The mere sight of her handwriting brought a mix of emotions – hope, longing, and a sense of connection he had sorely missed, regardless of how they left things.
Sensing the importance of the letter, Strayer dismissed Nix with a friendly slap on the shoulder. “That’s enough for now, Captain. You’re dismissed.”
Rising to his feet, Lew quickly saluted his superior and stepped out of the CP, the chill of the autumn wind hitting him as he found a quiet corner to read the letter. His anticipation was palpable as he carefully tore open the envelope.
As he read (y/n)’s words, he felt a rush of emotions that seemed to fill the void her absence had left behind. Her words were like a lifeline, connecting him to the woman he missed so dearly.
September 29th, 1944
Lew,
How have you been? I hope you’ve not given Dick too much trouble yet. We both know how mischievous you can get without me there to supervise you. I miss you and the men dearly.
The hospital is filled to the brim with injured men from Market Garden. Was it really as bad as everyone's said? Apparently, the British took more casualties than us.
As far as my recovery goes, I’m feeling better by the day. It still hurts to breathe, and it’s also hard to walk without my stitches pulling painfully, but I’m gonna break out of this prison and come back to easy as soon as I can. This place is driving me crazy, Nix. Thankfully, the doctors said I should be out of here within the next few weeks. But will I wait that long? We’ll see.
On another note, I didn’t get to properly apologize for the way I treated you before. Sure, I did say I was sorry, but we also thought I could die, so it felt a little rushed. So, I’m sorry for getting upset with you about Eindhoven. I know you were just trying to protect me. I hope you can forgive me.
I’ve got to go on my daily walk around the hospital, so I’ve got one thing left to say…please don’t drink yourself away. If I hear one peep about you being drunk on duty, I will not hesitate to write Dick and ask him to throw out your stash. Just because I’m stuck here doesn’t mean you can stop taking care of yourself.
Please stay safe,
(Y/n) (y/l/n)
Lew lowered the letter with a gentle sigh, a warmth spreading through him. She was recovering well, and that was the best news he could hope for. A soft smile played on his lips as he reread her words. In his mind, he could hear every sentence in her voice.
“If I hear one peep about you being drunk on duty, I…” he muttered to himself, chuckling at her playful threat. Even while confined to a hospital bed, she still was trying to take care of him.
“That from her?” A voice asked.
Nix looked up with a smile to see Dick approaching. “Yeah.”
"How is she?"
“Good,” he chuckled. “She threatened to get you to pour out all my whiskey if it became a problem.”
Dick shook his head with a grin. “I would do it, you know.”
“Oh, I know you would,” Lew replied, raising his eyebrows.
Silence settled between them, both men lost in their thoughts.
“How are you doing?” Dick asked. “I know we haven’t been able to talk much with everything going on.”
Nixon grabbed his flask from his pocket and took a sip. “I’m alright. I miss her like crazy, though. It’s like…I don’t know, Dick. I think I’m in love with her.
The ginger’s eyes widened, locking onto Lew’s face, which bore a boyish smile. ”I’m glad you’re finally admitting it.”
“Now what do I do?” Nix chuckled bitterly. “We’re in the middle of a warzone and I’ve gone and fallen in love. They should put that on the recruitment posters, huh?”
Dick sighed, scanning their surroundings. “When she gets back you tell her.”
Lewis furrowed his eyebrows. “What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Everyone can see that she does, Nix. Trust me.”
A faint smirk tugged at Nix’s lips. “You know, Dick,” he remarked. “You’re not as bad as they say.”
Dick rolled his eyes and checked his watch. “I’ve got a meeting with Sink about our Market Garden casualties.”
“I’m glad I don’t have to be a part of that.”
Dick started to walk away but stopped and turned back to Nix. “Lew, be careful. You know there are rules, and the last thing I want to see is one or both of you getting in trouble.”
Nixon nodded. “Well, nothing’s happened yet, but I know. I will.”
With that, Dick walked around the corner, leaving Lewis alone with his thoughts. He took another gulp from his flask, the warmth spreading through him. Dick didn’t have to know every detail about his drinking habits.
Once (y/n) got back, though, he decided that he was going to reign it in. But until then, he reasoned, he could continue with whatever he needed to cope with the emptiness that had settled in his heart during her absence.
OCTOBER 31, 1944: AMERICAN 24TH EVAC HOSPITAL
(Y/n) lay in her uncomfortable cot, staring up at the blank ceiling as she had done for the last month. Although the nurses tried to give her some privacy by hanging sheets around her bed in the corner, it did little to block the sounds of snoring coming from Webster beside her.
She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but her side still ached from the wound. The pain was a constant reminder of their failed mission, and she longed to be back with Easy Company. The inactivity gnawed at her and the hospital walls felt like a prison.
The room was dimly lit by a flickering lamp, casting shadows across the walls. The war had taken a toll on everyone, physically and emotionally, so it wasn’t unusual to wake up to the horrifying sound of screams echoing through the halls. When the lights went out, it was the time when the hospital’s occupants became the most lonely.
She missed the camaraderie, the shared laughter, and even the adrenaline-fueled moments of combat with her friends. But most of all, she missed him.
As she lay there, she couldn’t help but wonder how Lew was doing. His absence was keenly felt, and she longed for his familiar presence and snarky attitude. She knew he had his demons and struggles, but they all did. The war had a way of shaping and breaking people in unpredictable ways.
A sudden noise from outside the room startled her, and she strained her ears to listen. The distant rumble of a jeep and the murmur of voices reached her. She imagined Lew out there in the field with Dick, and it brought her a sense of comfort to think of the duo out there doing what they did best, and that they were watching each other’s backs. With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and tried to push aside the pain, allowing herself to drift into a restless sleep.
The small squeak of boots on the tile floors awoke the (y/h/c) with a startle. Her breathing quickened as she sat up slowly and pulled back the curtain, revealing someone with a familiar screeching eagle and medic patch a few feet away.
“Gene?” She whispered, face contorted in confusion.
The Cajun turned quickly and smiled distantly as he recognized her. “(Y/l/n). How are ya’ doin’, cherie?”
She took a moment to glance at his blood-smeared ODs, realizing what had brought him to the hospital at such a late hour must have been bad, so she didn’t question him about it.
“I’m ready to bust out of here.”
He sighed, a knowing grin painting his lips. “Are you healed up enough to bust out?”
“Yes,” (y/n) nodded enthusiastically. “Doc said any day now.”
Gene raised an eyebrow, approaching her cautiously. “Let me see. If I think it’s healed well enough, I’ll take you back with me tonight. If not, you’ve gotta stay, alright?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of reuniting with Easy. “Wait. Seriously? Just like that?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Just like that.”
Suppressing a wince, she carefully laid down on her back and pulled up her shirt, revealing the thick white bandage that was wrapped around her side. Gene, ever the respectful young man, looked up at her for confirmation before he began unwrapping it.
As Roe carefully unwrapped the bandage, (y/n)’s healing wound was revealed. The site of the injury was marked by bruised, discolored skin, and a well-defined entry point where the bullet had torn into her body.
Gene leaned in, his eyes focused and gentle as his hands hovered over the wound. He was meticulous and caring in his inspection. His fingers probed around the entry point with a practiced tenderness, gauging the healing process and the neatness of the stitches. He checked for any signs of infection, monitoring the redness and warmth around the stitched area. His eyes scanned for swelling or abnormal discharge, all signs that would indicate the need for further care.
(Y/n) winced slightly as he pushed on a sensitive area where the stitches were pulling on her skin, and Gene immediately eased his touch, offering her a reassuring smile.
“Cap’n Nixon will be glad,” he smirked, wrapping up the wound.
(Y/n)’s eyes lit up. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes ma’am. It looks good. I’ll just tell the officers to put you on light duty until you’re a hundred percent.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She whispered, excitement brimming in her voice as tears threatened to fill her eyes.
Gene smiled warmly. “You’re welcome, cherie. Everyone’ll be glad to have you back.”
As Roe left to inform the necessary people, (y/n) settled back on her cot, a surge of relief and happiness coursing through her. She was going back to Easy, and she couldn’t wait to reunite with her comrades, especially a certain intelligence officer whose absence had left a void that was now going to be filled.
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I’m exhausted. Beyond exhausted at this point really. I’ve been forcing myself forward for over a month and it’s been a rough time. Like get to my oh shit level of crisis more times in a week that makes me go uh this is really bad. I have goals(?) technically. Like there’s things I “want” to accomplish but really I just don’t give a single fuck if I do. Sure I could do those things but really what’s the point? I know that’s one of my warning signs. And yet again I’m just waving as I pass by the neon “panic now! get help now!” signs. I just can’t bring myself to care.
#hello depression my old friend#jk I’m never not depressed#well unless I’m in mania#then I’m not#unless it’s a mixed episode#because those are their own form of hell#ooooo shit is dark#all my symptoms are being absolute dicks#I am not allowed to buy anything sharp right now#or hold anything sharp#no touch the knives#I need a nap
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life has not been so good lately. not exactly bad. just.. guilt inducing. i know im forgiven, that theres no way around it, but i still feel bad.
#ollie rambles#i want to go off my meds for them#i know im not.. hurting them. or at least they havent said#i just.. ugh#i would rather almost kill myself in mania than be prickly to someone i value highly#i know how my meds work.#they do too#theyve already forgiven me. i just.. feel like a dick.#ugh.
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I know MileApo fans would like to see more couple pictures from the two but I'm honestly living for their gatekeeping tendencies and boundaries especially from Apo lol it just makes their bond so special and genuine. Im just enjoying all of Apo's unhinged replies to Mile's photos especially lately where he can't seem to stop himself about gushing about how handsome Mile is
I'm gonna be honest: I'm trying to cut back on engaging w pics and clips not from events or them (which is why i actually have a lot of fun w the lives lol--goofy but still planned)
I think everyone is antsy for more content (oh GOD I know I am), but I'm getting uncomfortable w some fans treating them like entertainment.
I think this is why we're getting instances lately of people feeling WAY too comfortable saying the most inappropriate things to them (this happens with all celebrities, but idol culture has the notion of expected accessibility).
I love them. I will blog about them. I wish some people would take the time to step back and realize these are not only people, they are STRANGERS. Feel free to have fun, but if you have the chance to meet them, treat them with respect. And for most of us who probs won't have the chance to meet them, don't get so caught up in the puzzle of their lives that it stops being casual fun and veers into obsession.
It's important to remember: this is their job. Curb your expectations for what they're willing to share w you.
#dick moves with d#I v much enjoy seeing them together#I WISH I could see more of their performances but it is what it is--art takes time and money#also getting out of mania gives me some clarity and sadly what I saw was the idol culture that p much drove me from kpop#also I don't hold judgement w the ppl who share candid pics and stuff#I honestly think most ppl don't rlly think about it esp international fans bc they seem so inaccessible to us#but yeh I'm trying not to engage for myself personally
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bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day
ON THE H★USE !!
#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭
“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”
“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”
It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania.
“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”
“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”
Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them.
15,900 yen.
The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart.
Oh, how he would love to play saviour.
“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear.
Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar.
It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter.
His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then.
“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?
Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”
“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door.
The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home.
“(Y/N)?”
A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked.
How fucking lucky.
“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him.
“Y-You…as—”
“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble.
“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence.
“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.
“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league.
“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”
“Fucking whore.”
“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”
“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?”
A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground.
“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation.
Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.
A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face.
Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him.
The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”
“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids.
Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face.
His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb.
Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”
Cute, Toji chortled.
Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty.
A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core.
The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines.
“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch.
“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth.
“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate.
“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.
You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness.
His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence.
“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him.
His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”
With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space.
His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass.
Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle.
Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks.
Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him.
Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths
“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”
Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his.
“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his.
With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness.
Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass.
You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”
“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”
You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty.
“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils.
You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.”
Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting.
“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car.
“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then.
His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”
“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers.
Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief.
Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body.
You almost fell in love.
Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips.
Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot.
His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words.
Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock.
He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.
“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.
“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.
“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.
“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”
“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”
Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.
“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.
“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.
“What d’ya say?”
Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”
Aww. How fucking adorable.
You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”
“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.
“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.
“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”
“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”
Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”
Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”
“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”
“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.
“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.
“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.
“Cum f’me again, baby?”
“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.
Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.
Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.
“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”
© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work
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