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tojisbbygworl · 6 months

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The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.

Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

Words: 6.7k

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus

That apartment used to be empty.

Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.

Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.

He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.

After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.

All it took was the next morning.

Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do.

He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.

He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.

He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.

He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.

The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.

The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.

“She’s cute though.”

Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”

This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.

“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.

‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”

His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.

He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.

Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.

Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.

The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.

As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.

There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.

Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.

He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.

Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.

He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”

Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?

Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.

Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.

“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”

Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.

Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.

“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”

He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.

Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.

Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.

“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”

I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.

To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.

“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”

Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.

He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.

It was over.

He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.

Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?

She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.

His memory is not enough. He wants her.

He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.

Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.

He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.

He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.

Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”

“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.

Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”

Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”

He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.

She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.

Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.

“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.

She ran.

And that was the worst thing she could have done.

There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.

That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.

Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.

She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.

She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.

In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.

She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.

She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.

As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.

Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.

She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-

What was that noise?

A bump. In her bedroom.

What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?

No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…

Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.

The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.

He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.

She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too.

When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.

And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.

He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.

It all happened in a second.

She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?

She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.

She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.

Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”

Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”

She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”

He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”

He disgusts her.

He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.

He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.

That’s how she felt.

He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.

‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’

She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.

He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.

He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”

She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?

“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.

Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.

Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.

“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.

He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.

“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.

“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”

He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.

His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”

“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.

“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…

“I’m yours, Sukuna.”

A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?

She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.

If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.

She was so fucking stupid.

He repeated that all night.

‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.

He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.

He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.

‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.

She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.

Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.

She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.

She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?

She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.

In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”

What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”

“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk?

Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?

Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.

She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?”

She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”

He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”

Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”

“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.

“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.

“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”

ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !

Masterlist

W E L C O M E P A G E

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader #dark content #very dark #be warned it’s dark #toji fushiguro #toji

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rafesaddiction · 1 year

Text

It's not cheating when he’s your enemy – Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

see here for part 2 and here for part 2.5

Summary: Rafe Cameron is the reason why you fought with your boyfriend. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you lost your job. Rafe Cameron is the reason why you moan and whimper shamelessly.

Concept: enemies, hate sex

Warnings: mdni! – smut, hate sex, rough sex, p in v, violence, choking, spitting (on rafe), cursing, name calling (rafe calls reader whore), cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), mean!rafe

Word count: 3.9k

“How about a smile with that, hm?” Rafe Cameron grinned at you as you placed the glass in front of him on the table. Your eyes narrowed and you glared at him, but that smug grin of his only grew wider, and his kook friends sitting at the table with him snickered and watched the scene with amusement.

It was bad enough that you had to work today, not being in the best of moods after a fight with your boyfriend earlier – or more exactly, a fight with your boyfriend and his best friend. But you had to take the evening shift at the Wreck, because your landlord had assured you, he'd kick you out if you were late on the rent again. You needed the money and your cleaning job just didn't pay enough. And usually working at the Wreck was fine. Mike was a fair boss and Anna always had a nice word for you. The tips weren't as generous as at the country club, but the customers were usually much nicer. Well, usually. Not so much tonight.

You had seen – or actually heard them, the moment they had come into the restaurant; the kook prince and his cronies. Not waiting to be seated, they just chose a table and sat down, as if they had a right to do so, as if they were entitled to do anything they wanted. You frowned, when you saw them, having just written down the order from much nicer guests – a tourist couple, who must have been puzzled at your sudden change of attitude. You usually had no problem with keeping a friendly face to customers, or at least look at them in a neutral way, but the moment you saw Rafe Cameron walk in like he owned the place, you just couldn't hide your anger.

And of course, Rafe and his friends had chosen one of your tables. If it hadn't been so busy that night, you might have asked your colleague to swap tables. But as it was, you clenched your teeth and walked over to their table, placing the pitcher with fresh water and glasses on the table, ready to take their order – avoiding looking at them, especially at Rafe.

But his words made you look up from the water jug you held in your hand.

“C’mon, y/n, show us that pretty smile of yours, and I might even give you a nice tip”, the asshole had the audacity to wink at you.

You glared at him, pressing your lips into a thin line. You were fuming. Your hand clenching around the handle of the pitcher. And the blond kook just kept smiling at you his arrogant smile that others might have found charming, which only drove you mad.

So instead of pouring the water into the glasses on the table, you poured the pitcher's whole content onto Rafe Cameron's lap, drenching his expensive pants. – A pity actually that it was only water and not some boiling hot coffee.

Rafe quickly moved back, the chair making a screeching sound on the wooden floor, as he jumped to his feet. Now looking anything but amused, he looked down at himself.

“The fuck?”

And it was your turn to smirk, just a little triumphant smirk, while you glared at him and extended your arm, flipping him the bird, right at his stupid face.

You turned on your heels and walked back to the bar, hearing one of the kook boys say, “dude, she really hates you.” And Rafe replied, “nah, she wants me bad,” which resulted in all of them laughing.

And you growled. You hated those bastards. You hated them so damn much.

Behind the counter, you put down the empty pitcher with a loud thud – even though you felt more like throwing that thing at Rafe.

You tried to compose yourself, you really did, but, of course, Mike had seen what happened. And instead of being on your side and kicking those arrogant kooks out, he came at you, told you to go and apologize.

“I won’t! He’s a fucking asshole, acting like he owns half the island!” You glared at your boss.

“Well, his father does,” Mike said, “now go and apologize and tell him, whatever they order is on the house.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at Mike as if he was talking in a different language.

“You apologize or you can leave. For good.” The features on the man's face had become stern.

You should do the reasonable thing, you needed this job. But your temper got the best of you. You were so angry, so damn furious, and Mike taking their side was just too much to take. You literally had enough.

“Screw you,” you snapped, crumpled the cloth you used for cleaning tables and threw it at Mike.

He frowned at you and pointed at the door.

And you walked out, walked out of that damn restaurant in which those fucking kooks were surely laughing at the scene they just witnessed. You were a joke to them. You pogues always were nothing more than a joke to them. It made you furious.

Outside you kicked a random car parked in front of the restaurant, wishing it was Rafe's – but it looked more like some old folks' family car than anything Rafe would drive.

“Fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em all,” you cursed, and your foot hurt, but you kept on walking, stomping actually, blinking angry tears away.

You just had lost your job because of Rafe-fucking-Cameron! The same guy that had been the reason for your fight with your boyfriend earlier that day.

You hated that guy. You had always hated Rafe, but now you hated him more than ever.

This morning, on his usual delivery run for Heyward, your boyfriend had been jumped by Rafe and one of his friends. And they had beaten him up so bad, he had gotten home with a limp, his left eye swollen, his nose bleeding. Seeing him like that hurt so much, you almost cried. His best friend, who was there with you, looked at your boyfriend shocked, and worried, before his quick temper took over. That boy was always short-tempered and would rather act than think. He was furious. While you were attending your boyfriend's wounds, his best friend was pacing the small place, raising his fists, clenching them, rambling on about how he would make Rafe pay for that. He also seemed mad at himself for not having been there for his best friend, not having been able to defend him. So he was more determined now to make it right, as he called it.

He swore revenge and was forming a plan. Usually, they would just try and fight Rafe and his friends at the next opportunity. But this seemed different. And your boyfriend seemed to be hurt more than just by the wounds you could see. You weren't sure, but you had a feeling that something else must have happened with Rafe, something more serious, something hurting not just his body, but his pride too. Because otherwise, your boyfriend would have never agreed to the stupid plan his best friend came up with. Stealing Rafe's dirt bike and sinking it to the bottom of the ocean. It wasn't even a real plan, it was just stupid.

“He'll know that it was you! And he'll have you arrested for it.”

“So what?”

“So what? You can go to jail! Don't be so dumb! You can both go to jail for this and you'll ruin your future just because of some stupid fight!” You yelled at your boyfriend's best friend, but there was no reasoning with him.

But what was worse, your own boyfriend didn't want to see that you were right. He was so infuriated. He had jumped to his feet and was ready to take Rafe and any cop. And he wanted to hurt him, hurt him so bad.

When you tried to talk to him, tried to calm him down, tried to make him see reason, he just shoved you away, and he suddenly seemed angry at you, accusing you of not understanding him. And his best friend accused you of not caring about your own boyfriend. And that fucking hurt. The two of them had always been close, very close, and you sometimes felt a pang of jealousy, because even though you were his girlfriend, it seemed as if there was some part of him you would never fully get.

So you had left the two of them planning their revenge, coming up with some stupid plan that would not make anything right that had been done to your boyfriend or to any of you pogues.

And the thought of that made you furious right now.

You balled your hands into fists, clenching so hard, you felt your nails digging into your palms.

You hadn't paid attention to where you were going when you had stormed out of the Wreck and you had been walking for some time now, anger driving you onwards, as you found yourself close to the Cameron's pier.

Rage was clouding your judgement, but you knew you had to do something, anything. It just couldn't go on like this. Rafe Cameron hurting everyone and destroying everything and just getting away with it.

You didn't have a plan what to do when you broke into the shack where they stored boat stuff and other things. It wasn't the first time you had broken into somewhere, but it was the first time you were on your own. Usually the other pogues would be with you. But you could do this on your own. And you did care about your boyfriend, no matter what his best friend said. You were a pogue just like them.

Inside it was dark and you had to feel your way round, careful not to bump into anything. You used your phone's flashlight to see, but you weren't really sure what you were looking for. Maybe you could find boat keys and take his boat? Stupid plan, but whatever. You had to do something, anything. Goddamn, you hated that guy.

“Anything I can help you with?”

You froze when you heard that dark voice. The lights had suddenly turned on, blinding you for a second. You blinked and saw him. Fuck. Rafe Cameron standing at the door, blocking the only exit. Tilting his head to the side, he looked right at you.

“What you doing here?” You couldn't help but ask, even though you knew it was a dumb question, but you were genuinely puzzled. He had just been at the Wreck with his friends – getting you fired – and now he was here of all places?

“This is MY property. What the hell are you doing here?”

Fuck, he was right. You wouldn't admit it, but he had a point. And suddenly you were questioning your own reason. It was such a stupid idea, breaking in here. All you wanted now was to get out, get away as fast as possible before Rafe would call the cops. So instead of answering, you darted for the exit as he moved a few steps into the room. But he was quicker, stepped to the side, so you almost crashed right into him.

He caught you, his big hand wrapping around your arm. You flinched at how tight his grip was.

“Fuck, let me go!” You tried to wriggle out of his grip, and hit his chest with your free hand.

Rafe grabbed your other arm too, pulling you closer to his much larger body.

“Let go, asshole!” You yelled at him, not giving up your fighting yet, though it seemed impossible to free yourself from his grip.

“Won't do. You broke into my property and stole something from me.” He glared down at you, his eyes narrowed – the blue in them reminded you of the sky on the day before the hurricane hit the island a few weeks ago.

“I didn't take anything!” Your voice strained and you were panting from your struggling.

He raised his eyebrows as he glared at you.

“A liar and a thief. I'll check for myself what you took.”

He let go off one of your arms, just to use his free hand to grip your waist, pulling you against his body, his broad chest pressing against your upper body, so close, you could hardly move your free arm between the bodies.

But his hand didn't rest, he was touching, grabbing, tugging, actually patting you down.

His large hand found your ass and that intimate touch caused a different kind of sensation. Something much hotter.

You wriggled in his arms, making your bodies only rub harder against each other.

“Fuck, let go!” You hissed, as breathing became harder.

You tried to kick him, but couldn't really lift your leg, you were too close to his overpowering body.

“Fucking asshole!” You spat at him.

And Rafe's hand gripped your jaws, so hard, you winced. Your mouth opening as you gasped.

Instead of tasting the air, you felt his lips crushing down on yours as he had suddenly closed the space and was kissing you, kissing you fiercely and hard.

Your eyes fluttered close. For a moment you were completely taken aback, overwhelmed by this unexpected intimate touch, a kiss so fierce and rough you had never tasted before.

It only lasted a second, and you pushed him away, pushed yourself away from him enough, so you could move your arm, and you smacked his cheek so hard, his head whipped to the side.

Obviously surprising him, he let go off you, rubbing his cheek, and looking at you as if in disbelief. His mouth opened, those lips you had just felt on yours.

And you stood there two steps away, chest heaving, panting, glaring, fuming, feeling that tingling on your lips, feeling that throbbing pain from his touch on your arms, feeling his presence so strongly, feeling this incredible heat in your own body, something hotter than rage coursing through your veins, feeling that sudden pull.

You lunged forward, and he just gazed at you, and your hands gripped around his neck as you pulled yourself up, legs wrapping around his waist, and your mouth meeting his in an angry kiss.

Rafe reacted in an instant, kissing you back, even fiercer than before. It felt like he was devouring you. And you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, as you rocked your hips against his. But the friction you caused with your fervent movements wasn't enough to make that throbbing between your legs stop. Both his hands grabbed your ass, gripped it like it was something that belonged to him, only to him. It made you furious, and clenching with need.

Your hands grabbed his hair, pulling at it. He growled in response, right into your open mouth. Pushing his tongue in, he claimed that too.

The heels of your feet dug into his back, as you pulled yourself closer to him. Feeling his hard cock pressing against you made you mutter the most embarrassing sounds, hardly muffled by his greedy kiss.

Suddenly he moved and you felt how your ass hit something.

The kiss broke and you hissed as you found yourself on a workbench, cluttered with all kinds of tools, which Rafe shoved away with his arm, making them clatter on the floor, before setting you down on the surface.

You braced yourself with your elbows on the bench, looking up at Rafe, who impatiently tugged down your shorts and panties. Your sandals dropped to the floor as well.

You tried to get up and grab his shirt to pull it off of him, but he pushed you back down on the bench, making you flinch at his roughness and at the same time you felt your legs opening for him, as you saw him take that shirt off himself. You couldn't help but gaze at his muscles. His body was so well-shaped, it was ridiculous how he could be real.

Your attention was directed further down, as you heard him unzip his pants.

You were only able to catch a glimpse of his cock, but it was enough to make you gasp – he was huge – before he pushed into you.

The sudden pain made you cry out. Your eyes going back into your head as you felt so incredibly full. You didn't even try to suppress your shameless moans as he ruthlessly thrust into you. Your walls clamping, the feeling became so intense, your body was shivering while you were burning up.

You heard Rafe's animalistic growl and that sound drove your own lust even further.

His hand at the back of your neck, he pulled you up, his lips hovering over yours, his hot breath mingling with yours.

Rafe pulled you closer, and as he fucked you, your ass was pressed against the edge of the bench, surely leaving bruises.

But you left bruises and marks on his body too. Your hands grabbing, your nails scratching his back. When he kissed you, you bit him, feeling how he tensed up and go harder on you. You felt your climax approaching, felt your body burning up with need, clenching so hard around him.

And he must have felt it too, because you could sense something shift. But instead of giving you what you wanted, giving you what your body so desperately needed, he grinned into the messy kiss and suddenly pulled out. You gazed at him, your face flushed, your lips sore from those biting kisses, and you were so surprised that it was easy for him to unwrap himself off your legs.

Your naked feet touched the cold floor and you could hardly stand. But you didn't have too.

Before you could question what the hell he was doing, he grabbed you, turned you around and bent you over the workbench.

You exhaled an angry breath and your hands clawed at the surface of the bench, while he turned your head sideways and pressed down on it, your cheek on the rough wood. You tried to look up at him, but couldn't move your head to see properly. But you didn't need to see what he was doing, you could feel it a few seconds later.

Your legs were spread and a rough hand rubbed between them. You were soaking wet. You had been wet from the moment his lips had claimed yours. You had no time to get annoyed at how that must have amused him, because the next moment, he was taking your breath away as his thick cock thrust into you. Harder and deeper now. You wouldn't have believed that to be possible, but he was fucking you now with even more of that rough and ruthless vigor. He was quite literally using you, as his cock was hammering into you. Your body trembled and shuddered and you moaned and whimpered and you were so far gone.

Rafe took you as if you were his, as if he could use you as he pleased – and you wanted nothing else than to be used by him in that moment.

Your walls clenching so hard around him, you felt fuller than possible.

But despite being at his mercy, despite having turned into his fucktoy, despite your traitorous body enjoying being used like that, you couldn't help yourself.

One hand reached back, touching his hip.

“Harder,” you urged him, panting. “Harder,” you repeated, breathlessly, as if you didn't already feel like you might pass out any minute, because it was too much, because your body couldn't possible take anymore.

He growled. And the sound made you shudder.

And you almost regretted your words, but at the same time, you felt your clit throbbing, your whole body buzzing with a need you had never felt before.

His arm wrapped around your neck from behind and he pulled you up, pulled you up standing on your toes, your back arching. The back of your head against his shoulder. His arm pressed against your throat, making it hard to breathe and impossible to speak. You could only whine as he slammed into from behind. Your fingernails digging into his arm's hard muscle, while your eyes fluttered shut.

You lost it all, all sense of reason and self control, as he fucked you through your earth-shattering orgasm. Fucked you relentlessly. Fucked you without restrained. Fucked you into oblivion.

You were undone and he kept going. Taking you without mercy, using you. And when he gasped and you felt him push so deep inside you, hitting a spot yet untouched, another wave rolled over you. You hadn't felt it building up, but it was like your body was synced with his, and the moment he came inside you, spilling his load deep into you, your walls clenched around him, as if trying to hold him there, and you came, harder this time, with him.

When he pulled out and let go off you, you just collapsed forward onto the workbench. Coughing, finally able to breathe, you tried to regain your senses.

Your legs were trembling and you could already feel his cum dripping out of you, running down your thigh.

You weren't sure if your eyes were closed or open, as you still just saw stars dancing in front of your eyes.

The sound of a low chuckle behind you made you finally able to return to reality – and realize your exposed position, bent over the workbench, your legs spread, your ass up, cum dripping out of your throbbing pussy.

You groaned as you pushed yourself up and turned. Every fucking muscle in your body hurt. You knew you would be sore for days. And when you caught that smirk on Rafe's face as he put on his shirt watching you with that glint in his eyes, you knew he was thinking the same.

You smoothed your rumpled top, crouched down to pick up your shorts. Somehow you couldn't find your panties between all those tools scattered on the floor, so you pulled on your shorts without panties. You flinched at the friction the rough fabric caused. You'd definitely be sore for days.

Frowning, you slipped into your sandals.

Your eyes moved over to Rafe. He was fully dressed and despite his somewhat heavy breathing and the sweat glistening on his forehead, he seemed all composed as he was leaning against another workbench opposite of you, just a few feet away. His hair a mess though, you noted with a certain kind of satisfaction.

A smirk danced around his lips as he watched you trying to comb your own hair with your fingers.

“What?” You frowned at him.

He shrugged, pushed himself off the bench and slowly came closer.

“Just realized, it's true what they say.”

Your frown deepened as you glared at him questioningly.

“The filthiest whores come from the Cut.”

You spat right at his face.

“Fucking asshole,” you hissed and turned to leave. From the corner of your eyes you could see how he wiped away your spit from his cheek, and looked at it, chuckling in amusement.

You didn't turn when you walked through the door. You tried not to show it, but each step hurt like hell. And what was worse, your core was aching with need.

a/n: thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Comments, reblogs, likes, and any kind of feedback are very welcome. You may also have a guess who the reader's boyfriend might be. And his best friend...

This is the start of a concept series of oneshots.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #drew starkey #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #obx #outer banks #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #toxic relationship #smut fic #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe x y/n

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tacticoal · 2 months

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「V.I.P. for me ?!」: ̗̀➛ part 2 to biker!racer!simon

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sfw, gn reader, unedited, suggestive content if you squint, mdni !!

wanted to throw in a big big thank you for all the recent support loves, you have no idea how welcomed you've all made me feel. please enjoy.

you. are. beaming.

ecstatic, delighted, overjoyed, hysterical, your mind lists all the words that could only ever possibly describe how you're feeling as you grasp your phone with nearly enough force to crack the screen.

simon riley, the #1 motorcycle racer in britain, upholding a 5-year champion streak, the man you've known and adored for years, is doing a meet-and-greet in your town.

and you're staring down at the VIP ticket on your phone.

your friends messaged you in the group chat, explaining that they all chipped in for your special invitation, buying the standard, cheaper tickets for themselves to come with you. the VIP admission gives you access to a shorter line that simon gets to first, as well as a photo with him and his bike. oh, that work of beauty, you think, already smelling the gasoline it burns off.

you spammed them with several thank you's and holy shit's, before calling a nearby restaurant to reserve a table (the poor lady on the other end could barely make out your warbled and giddy speech). just imagining next week makes you squeal and giggle into your pillow all night.

next week. the event is next week. exactly 6 days, 10 hours, 54 minutes and 4 seconds from now. 6 days to go out, get a fresh set of clothes, hair trimmed, and figure out any other essentials. surely that's more than enough time, right?

well, with no more than an hour left until you have to be out the door, you're pacing around your bed, 5 different outfits splayed over it. your friends -- who knew you'd be in this situation and arrived about an hour earlier already dressed up -- sit around your room, either watching you or on their phones listening as you ramble about how this outfit would catch his eye, but this one looks more comfy--

they knew not to interrupt you, providing the most company they can while you grumble, beginning to get impatient with yourself. eventually, you settle on something loose and airy, but revealing enough to gather the right kind of attention.

"what if he thinks i'm ugly.." you mutter, brushing down a stray hair in front of the mirror with a shaky hand.

"then y'know he's knocked his head into the concrete one too many times," your closest friend giggles.

huffing out a laugh, you nod and go to arrange a tote bag, throwing everything you want simon to sign. an official t-shirt promoting his name, two framed photographs of him, and a notepad. obviously the bag is getting signed too -- you'd throw in your arm and forehead in there if they weren't attached to your body. sigh, modern day problems.

finally, finally the time comes where you're waiting in line. holy shit, this is really happening. you can see a glimpse of his tracksuit from here, your body trembling with nerves. you've separated from your friends a bit ago, jaw dropped as you passed by the crowds of people lined up for this event. music blasts through your earbuds, in an attempt to tune out the bass blasting throughout the streets and boisterous screams 'n chatter. keeping your friends updated on where you are, you stay hunched over your phone as you slowly inch up the line.

"'nd what's your name?-"

simon's gaze tilts up from the checkerboard table to you, his breath immediately caught in his throat. you were still looking down, thumbs tapping on the screen in your hands. your glance flickered up for a split second, before your head completely snapped up to him, eyes widening as they get caught in the riptide of his deep, darker ones. with your mouth agape, you both stare at each other in silence. a beat or two passes before you rip your earbuds away, shoving them into your bag, alongside your phone.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry, i wasn't paying attention to the line, i was texting my friends and got distracted with them-"

it's you, he thinks. the one from the pub those few weeks back. he clears his throat and nods, watching you hastily pull out the things for him to sign, his heart clenching the same way it did when he first laid eyes on you. you giddily point at where you want his signature, and he's quick to oblige, the permanent marker squeaking against glass.

"i'm a really big fan," you admit bashfully, unable to hide the excited grin that stretches across your face, "since freshman year of college, 'm pretty sure."

now, simon's heard that from basically every fan he's encountered, but he's never truly believed them until now. he looks up to you, sliding the framed pictures to the side to make room for your notepad. your eyes glitter with a childlike glee as you stare back at him, and he wonders what your pretty head's thinking.

"that so, love?" he muses, tilting his head.

"yeah," you beam at the nickname, "i don't know how you do it -- everything you do is so cool."

he breathes out a laugh, ignoring how he's holding up the line behind you.

"i'd be glad to show y'round it sometime."

"really?"

you watch him with gleaming eyes, jaw dropped, as he writes a string of numbers below his name.

"text me anytime, love," he teases, handing it back to you before flicking his hand, "now shoo off, before security gets on ya."

"what about the photo?" you pout at him in disappointment, and he can't help but grin wolfishly in return.

"i promise you much more than a photo if you keep in touch."

@ tacticoal do not repost !!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #call of duty #gn reader

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notsunnyowo · 5 months

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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᗷEᗩT TᕼEᗰ - ᒍOIᑎ 'Eᗰ

Part 2

Summary: Gojo Satoru is known for being a flirt, but what happens when he gets a taste of his own medicine?

Content: Fluff, Flirt! Gojo, Female! Reader (AFAB), Gojo getting flustered, Teen! Gojo x Teen! Reader (Reader is the same age as Gojo)

Word Count: 778

It was well known that the infamous head of the Gojo-clan was a huge flirt. And understandably so. He was a striking young man with good looks that could rival the ones of even the Greek gods. Not to mention the personality to match.

He was a cocky little bastard. Always using his good-looks to his advantage. Didn't feel like paying the regular price for a double scooping of ice cream? - He'd just charm the vendor into giving him a "customer discount". Wanted to get into the VIP lounge of some club? - No problem. One wink, paired with a flirty comment towards the security was all it took for him to waltz right in like he owned the place.

Everyone knew he liked having things his way. After all, no one had ever opposed the strongest. And gotten away with it at least-

You supposed that's what ultimately resulted in his unique personality. . .

His boyish charm worked on almost anyone.

Except you.

There were only a handful of people that could resist Satoru's charming attitude and you were one of them. And for some reason it only made you a target more than everyone else.

But could you really blame Satoru for wanting to make the cute new girl wrapped around his fingers?

He just found you so interesting (not to mention adorable) whenever you rolled your eyes at his flirty pick-up line, brushing him off as if he wasn't the Satoru Gojo.

You were absolutely perfect.

One could only imagine the look on his face when you actually responded to his flirty comments.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Satoru spoke in his usual charming tone as he leaned over your desk. "Don't you have someone else to bother Gojo?" Raising your head from the book you were reading, Satoru was met with your unamused expression. Letting out a dramatic sigh, Satoru answered. "No. Suguru's out on a mission and Yaga-sensei called Shoko to his office not too long ago. Said something about practicing for a medical exam, whatever that means." "Which means that you, sweet girl, get to spend the evening with yours truly." He added, flashing you his signature boyish grin. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you said sarcastically. "Gee. How lucky am I?" Grinning like the dork he was, Satoru completely dismissed your unenthusiastic tone and simply carried on with his 'speech'. "Don't get too excited now. I wouldn't want Suguru getting jealous." "But then again- Who wouldn't get jealous over the lovely little lady that gets to spend the evening with me?" He continued on with his 'speech'. Letting out a defeated sigh, you looked up at the white haired sorcerer. What was that old saying again? If you can't beat them - join 'em. "Y'know what.." You spoke up, capturing Satoru's attention. "You're absolutely right." "Oh?" The boy hummed, raising a brow at your response. Had he finally gotten to you? "Definitely." You chirped, shifting in your seat. "Heh, I knew you'd see it eventually." Gojo commented, his cocky grin resurfacing once more. "After all, it was only a matter of time till you fell for m-" His words were suddenly cut off by your hand tugging his shirt and getting him down to your level. Cerulean eyes meeting yours, Satoru could feel his heart picking up its pace at your close proximity. His breath hitched as he saw you lean in, till your noses were almost touching. "What's wrong, pretty boy?" You cooed, your grin matching the one on his face just a few moments ago. "Cat got your tongue?" There were no words to describe how fast Satoru's heart was beating in that very moment. Nor how lightheaded your words, and actions, made him feel. If his blood pressure didn't kill him you would. For once in his entire life. Satoru was left speechless. Chuckling at the flustered state you'd left him, you gently patted his rosy cheek with one hand, before pulling away. "Y'know Gojo.. You're not as bad when you shut up." You said, offering him a cheeky smile. "You should consider letting your face do all the talking next time." "Chao~" Once you were out of the room and Satoru couldn't sense your cursed energy any more, he let out an embarrassed groan as he raised a hand to cover his flushed features. He glanced back at the door you'd walked through a minute earlier as he muttered to himself, hand covering his mouth. "What a woman.~"

After that little fiasco, Satoru was never the same.

He had a new goal in his mind. Get the new girl to do that to him again.

Author Note:

OMG I did not expect my previous post to blow up this much-

THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!! <3

Also, I hope you enjoyed reading this lil' fanfic!

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ladykailitha · 2 months

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Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate

Welcome to the little story I was working on during my move! Just a fun little thing to keep my writing streak going without have to dive into my heavy hitters.

The original idea is here.

I originally planned to go farther than the original idea like season 2-4 but as I was just needing something lighthearted it became a short little story three chapters long that might get turned into a series of What if's.

Summary: After the events surrounding Will Byers and his return to life, Steve has decided he can't control anything in his life but school, so he seeks to put a stop to the bullying. Cue Eddie getting heart-eyes over popular King Steve protecting his little sheepies. So he decides Steve needs a knew title. Sir Steve, Knight Protectorate will work just fine.

Steve was still reeling from actual fucking monsters and shit. And he actually had to go to school the following Monday like none of it had happened.

Fuck, they didn’t even offer therapy, just NDAs and money to keep their mouths shut. He had no doubt that the Byers family and Nancy had the worst of it, so he wasn’t even mad that she broke up with him.

He got it more than most people that she needed to time to grieve the lost of her best friend, be with family and hold them close for awhile.

It sucked.

Steve wasn’t going to pretend that it didn’t, because it absolutely did. But he understood. He told Nancy that if she ever needed a friend to give him a call.

His temper was short and his capacity for bullshit was low, that was the only reason he could come up with what happened that Monday morning.

He walked into the hall that held his locker to his books for the day when he saw Tommy H. having a go at some freshman. Like this kid still looked like he was in elementary, he looked that little.

“Knock it off, Hagan,” Steve huffed. “There is no reason to be harassing this kid.”

Tommy turned around and got in his face. “What’s it to you, Harrington? I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Dude,” Steve said, stepping forward instead of back like Tommy thought he would, “why are you so angry all the time? Chill out.”

Tommy’s head reared back as though he’d been struck in the face. He pushed Steve away. “Again, what’s it to you? You want to be friends again now that Miss Priss is finished with your scaly ass? Because where was my loyalty? We’ve been friends for years and you threw it all away for some piece of ass!”

Steve didn’t even stumble, he just crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what you did was over the line and you did it anyway. Because that’s the problem, Hagan, isn’t it? You don’t know where the fucking line is, do you?”

Tommy frowned and tried to push him again, but Steve just let his body slide with the motion and it didn’t even hurt. Tommy stared at him for a moment before stalking off down the hallway to his own locker. Steve just shook his head and went over to the kid who Tommy had been bullying.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked gently, helping him pick up his books. “If he does that again, you come running for me. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington, just ask around, someone will know how to find me, yeah?”

The kid nodded and took the books back from Steve before he took off in a tear. Steve sighed and he put his hands on his hips like a disappointed mom.

He looked around the hall to see everyone staring at him in shock. And that was when he realized what he had done.

Last week, he might have called Tommy off, but not really done anything about it. But he had not only called Tommy off, he put him in his place, and then helped the kid.

Yeah that was quite the turn around. So he just did like he would have done at basketball game.

He clapped his hands together once, nice and loud to make sure everyone was paying attention to him even more now.

“Right,” he said loudly. “Nothing more to see here. Move along now.”

They stared at him in even further shock now.

“Come on,” Steve said impatiently. “Move along. Shoo!” He waved his hands in front of him, trying to get them leave, but it was like herding cats.

Someone slammed their locker and that broke them out of their trance allowing them to move about their day like that didn’t just happen.

Steve looked around and saw Eddie Munson leaning against his locker, with his arms crossed. A locker, Steve was pretty sure was open when he walked in that morning.

Huh.

That was certainly interesting.

Eddie had been having a rough morning. He spilled milk on his only clean pair of jeans. He was going to do laundry after school. He was! He just didn’t do it over the weekend because he had gotten a new book. A book that was currently being painstakingly dried out by Uncle Wayne with an old hair dryer, because Eddie dropped it in the sink. Then he almost forgot his homework and had to run back for it. He had managed to get to school on time, but Tommy H. had decided to chose violence that morning against a nerdy little freshman literally next to his locker.

He promised Uncle Wayne that if Tommy started something that he wouldn’t fucking finish it. He needed to graduate from high school and as it much as it sucked ass, he had to look the other way.

So imagine his surprise when Steve got in Tommy’s face and almost threw hands with the guy, telling him to back off. What was even more surprising was how quickly Tommy stood down.

But that wasn’t the last of Steve Harrington’s surprises, oh no...

He helped the kid gather up his stuff and offered himself as a white knight if Tommy did it again. But by then Harrington had drawn quite the crowd, but instead of soaking the attention like the full tilt diva the asshole jock most certainly was, he had tried to disperse the crowd. Like the attention had made him uncomfortable.

So he thought he’d throw the king a bone and slammed his locker shut. The loud noise startled the populous out of their stupor and sent them packing. He was more than a little shocked to see that maybe Steve had figured out who had rescued him.

And wasn’t that a kick in the head.

By the time he got to lunch news had spread that that morning’s incident was only the start of the king’s campaign to clean up the hallowed halls of Hawkins High. According to ye ole rumor mill, Steve had broken up a fight, called out two accounts of bullying, and stopped a class from rioting when the teacher had a medical emergency.

What was even more surp– he needed to find another word. Shocking. Astounding. Astonishing. Mind-boggling.

Anyway Steve sat down next to Carol and Tommy. Like even the great ex Nancy Wheeler dropped her fork, flabbergasted.

Tommy and Carol exchanged a glance.

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” Tommy growled. “Why don’t you sit next to your girlfriend? Oh that’s right she dumped your ass.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “You made a valid point, we have been friends for years and I’ve decided I’m tired of running away from my problems.”

“And what,” Carol sneered, “we’re one of your problems now? Fuck off, Steve.”

Steve threaded his fingers together and rested his chin on his knuckles. “You didn’t use to be this way, you know. You used to be the sweetest girl and I’m trying to figure out if it was Tommy that made you this way or if you turning into a bitch is what made Tommy become such an ass?”

Tommy and Carol’s heads rocked back in unison. Tommy moved to stand up to hit him, but Carol pulled him back down.

“If we bother you so much why don’t you leave and stay gone?” she asked, low and menacingly. “We don’t need you, you need us. We made you king.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed. “No, you really didn’t. You need someone to keep you from your worst selves. And that’s what I’m going to do. You could be good.” He slid a piece of paper over to Tommy. “This is Miss Chen, the school counselor’s office hours. You will make an appointment with her by the end of the day.”

Tommy threw it on the table. “Fuck off, Harrington. You can’t make me.”

Steve leaned forward on his elbows. “Actually you’ll find that I can. After all they’re still trying to find the culprit who put the smoke bomb in the garbage in the principal’s office last year.” He slapped the table for emphasis. “It would be a real shame if they learned it was you.”

Tommy blanched and gulped heavily. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” Steve confirmed. “I know too much about you to have you go against me.”

Carol folded her arms and huffed. “Like we don’t have information on you, too.”

“Do you though?” he asked, sitting back in the chair and lazily stuff his hands in pockets. “I was never directly involved in any of it. Including the buying of weed for all those parties.”

This time Carol’s color drained. “Shit.”

“So this how it’s going to go,” Steve murmured. “You two have become my pet projects. I’m going to see if you can be reformed. Become better people. And to do that, we’re going to have to be friends again.”

Carol frowned as she twirled her hair around a finger. “Why are you doing this, Steve? I mean really. When you think people aren’t watching you, you get this haunted expression. It’s a little freaky, honestly.”

Steve sighed. “I have learned the hard way that running every time things get tough will only lead to worse consequences and I hate to see you come to harm because you realized the same thing too late.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I do care about you guys, of course I do. But this behavior is frightening. What if you hurt someone so bad that they took their life or they died because of your direct actions? Do you really think you could live with yourselves?”

“Tha–that can’t really happen, can it?” Carol asked, holding up her hand to stall Tommy from scoffing.

Steve shrugged nonchalantly. “That something you really want to test?” He leaned forward again on his elbows. “Having someone’s blood on your hands?”

They were both thinking it but Tommy beat Carol to it. “Is this what this about? Barb Holland? You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

Steve turned his head away.

Carol slapped her hands on the table on either side of her tray. “If that’s what Miss Priss said, blackmail be damned, Steve, I’m going throw hands, do you understand me?”

Steve’s head snapped her direction. “What?”

“Look,” Tommy said, “what happened to her was a shame, but you did everything you could to make sure she was okay before we went in to dry off.”

“Like, she wasn’t even supposed to be there that night,” Carol said, nodding. “That’s all on Nancy. Don’t carry her shit too, just because you loved her. You tried to include Barb and she was rude.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and nodded, choking down tears. “Thanks, guys.”

“I suppose,” Tommy said with a put on sigh, “we could be nicer. I guess.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed as Carol shook her head. He stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Tommy shook it first and then Carol.

“Friends,” they agreed.

Eddie wasn’t able to hear what Steve and Tommy and Carol were talking about, but whatever it was it had ripples that quivered through the halls of the school.

Word had it that Tommy was seeing the school counselor and Carol had stopped making snide comments in passing.

Like, you could tell Carol was fighting back every nasty word that came to her head, as Steve would nudge her side and she would whisper to him what she was thinking instead. You could tell she was still being nasty but at least it wasn’t aimed at the target anymore.

But there were starting to be other changes too.

The basketball team was the worst of the jocks when it came to harassing the masses, but when Steve caught one of the members bullying someone, the next day, the guy was too tired to start shit.

So Eddie decided it was time for a little research and that meant actually going to PE. Fuck, he hated high school.

He dragged his ass to PE and the coach merely raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing. He knew why Eddie was there. Same reason as all the other kids that never came started showing up.

Steve Harrington.

The coach blew his whistle to call a foul and the kid who had been fouled immediately got up and in the other guy’s face.

Faster than lightning, Steve was between before the coach could even take a step toward the mounting trouble.

“Come on, Kenny,” Steve was saying soothingly. “It was fair play, you were just in the right place at the wrong time. Walk it off, then take your shot. You’ve got this.”

Kenny glared at the other player, but did as Steve suggested. Steve turned to the other player and patted him on the chest, murmuring something Eddie couldn’t hear, but the other guy just nodded and took his place on the line.

Eddie laughed out loud when Kenny biffed both shots and the other team got the ball. He didn’t know enough about basketball, but he could still appreciate a good strategy when he saw it.

As the game wore on, Eddie was starting to see the pattern emerge. If it was malicious, Steve would be up in the guy’s face telling him to knock it off and to play clean. If it was a good play and the fouled player was pissed, Steve would calm him down and praise the other team.

It was almost freaky how well Steve seemed to know the difference. And Eddie loved freaky.

Part 2 Part 3

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #season 1 au #knight protectorate au

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girlgenius1111 · 8 months

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when i break, it’s in a million pieces

alexia x putellas!reader

the pressure on r is intense, from her sister more than anyone. an injury pushes her to her breaking point. desperate not to let her sister down, r struggles under the weight of her injury.

-----

Something that was always said about your sister was that she pushed everyone around her to be better. This was something that you knew to be true on a whole other level. The pressure of being Alexia Putellas' sister was immense; not just from the media, and the coaches, and the team, but from your sister herself. She expected a lot from you, she always had.

Alexia knew better than anyone what it took to be a great footballer, and when you expressed to her that you wanted it too, she promised herself that she would help you get there. The raw talent was there, and with your sister by your side, it seemed to the world that you would be unstoppable.

It was your first real season with Barça, having spent the last 2 seasons on loan at Sevilla. It had been good for you, helped develop your skills and allow you to be independent. Now, at 20, you were back in Barcelona, playing with the first team, and with your sister, for the first time.

Your sister always toed the line between pushing you just hard enough, and pushing you too hard. Your mother often had to step in, and get Alexia to back off, just a bit. Not that you were on the team with her though, where she was the captain, training with her everyday, you couldn't really go to your mother for help when Alexia pushed you too hard. You just... took it.

It was a lot, several stressful months at the beginning of the season where you tried to carve out your place in the team. It felt like Alexia was breathing down your neck, always asking for more. It was an environment that you had thrived in, before. And then you'd gone on loan, and you'd learned to push yourself.

Alexia's pushing, compounded with your pushing was, if you were honest, too much for you. You could never tell your sister, though, not when she was just trying to get you to be the best version of yourself.

It didn't help that the media had wild expectations for you; they were expecting you to perform how Alexia had when she was 28, and you were only 20. Every mistake, every missed shot had media outlets questioning if you would ever be as good as your older sister. You knew Alexia didn't pay attention to the things said about her online, and you tried to do the same. You weren't as successful.

Things only got worse when Alexia hurt her knee. Your heart ached for her, knowing exactly the toll not being able to play took on your sister. Still, you were suffocating in her absence from the pitch.

You needed to be better, stronger, faster, play harder, pass more precisely, shoot right on target every time. You needed to be passionate, but not hot headed. Confident, but not cocky. You felt like you were being pulled in a thousand different directions; every move you made seemed to be the wrong choice. Your solution? Work harder. Train extra. Push yourself to the absolute brink.

Everyone seemed to realize that you were pushing yourself too hard. Everyone, that is, except your sister. She only saw the results, how well you were playing. It was like she was blind to how exhausted you looked. Your teammates tried bringing it up with you, and with Alexia, but you both insisted that there was no problem. Alexia, because she genuinely didn't think there was one. And you, because you would rather drop dead than disappoint your sister.

Somewhere deep inside, you had convinced yourself that if you weren't perfect, completely and entirely perfect, Alexia wouldn't love you the same. Your sister's praise and approval was something you'd always sought; only recently did it reach the point that you were willing to do anything to make her proud of you; fuck your body and it's limits- Alexia was counting on you, expecting things of you, and you were going to do them. No matter what it took.

-----

It made sense, then, that your body would reach it's breaking point. The load on you was immense; playing almost every minute of every game. You were overworked, but you wouldn't admit it. You'd gone back out for the second half of the game against Eintracht Frankfurt, dismissing Jona [and Irene, and Patri, and Marta]'s questions about coming off to rest. You had more to give, you assured them. And give it your all, you would.

You were on the left side of the pitch, attempting to dribble past one of the opposing midfielders. The tackle wasn't really very clean; she came sliding in towards your ankles after the ball was already sailing towards Mario. Still, if you weren't so exhausted and overworked, you would have seen her coming, and moved out of the way. Or, at least, you would have managed to move just enough that the tackle wasn't catastrophic.

Instead, she caught you just right, crashing into you so hard that your ankle rolled in a way it wasn't supposed to. You felt the crack as well as heard it, the excruciating pain that followed forcing you to the ground.

Your head was left completely untouched, and the ref let play continue, apparently feeling that the tackle didn't deserve a yellow. You felt like you could feel every nerve ending in your ankle being lit on fire, at the same time as a deep ache permeated out from the bones in your lower leg. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, truly. You were on your stomach, face hidden away in the crook of your elbow, as you raised your other hand in the air, gesturing wildly for help.

Your heart was racing, ankle throbbing, as you felt everything come crashing down around you. This couldn't be happening. How could this be happening?

"Y/n?" Ingrid asked quietly, resting a hand on your back. Mario had kicked the ball out, and the medics were sprinting across the pitch towards you. Ingrid was closest, and while the rest of the team stood frozen, praying to anyone they could think of that this wasn't as bad as it seemed, the Norwegian crouched down by you, able to hear the small, pained whimpers escaping your lips.

"Ingrid, help," you choked out, reaching blindly for her. She grabbed your hand, holding tight.

"The medics are almost here, just hang on."

-----

Up in the stands, Alexia sat, watching on in absolute horror, at the way your body laid on the pitch. She'd been much too far away to hear the crack, but she knew what a broken ankle looked like. Your reaction only confirmed it. She was gripping the arms of her seat like her life depended on it, barely able to tear her eyes off you when Mapi called her name for the third time.

"Go, Ale. Get down there. She'll need you." Mapi nudged, looking to Jana when Alexia made no move. Mapi was still on crutches, unable to grab Alexia and go like she needed to. Jana got the message, standing and grabbing Alexia's hand in hers.

"Alexia," she called, waiting until her captain's eyes looked up at her. "Come on. She needs you." With another tug on the blonde's hand, Jana got Alexia to stand, before she pulled her out of the row of seats, and towards the stairs.

-----

The medics had maneuvered you onto your back, before they asked you what hurt. They already knew, even as the question left their mouths.

"What hurts?"

"Ankle. It's bad, it's really bad," you cried, before yanking your jersey up to cover your face. It was bad enough that this was happening, and the entire stadium, everyone watching being able to see you cry only making it worse.

You stayed in your little hiding place, shirt covering your face, until the crowd of medics around you, combined with the medical cart that had been driven onto the field, provided enough of a shelter. When you removed your kit from your face, you were met with the sight of most of the team standing over you, pained expressions across their faces. You were handed the dreaded green whistle, which you tried to push away. The medic insisted, and Irene leaned over you, as if daring you to reject it again.

You accepted it, then, taking deep inhales of the medication. Your brain felt hazy, suddenly, and it didn't really register when they put the puffy orange cast over your leg.

The team hovered, silent support, as you were moved onto a stretcher, and then the cart. You were left with pats on the shoulder and kisses on the forehead before the cart began moving, driving off the pitch. The crowd clapped as you went, and all you could think was that you had no idea how long it would be before you could get back on the pitch.

-----

"Where is she?" Alexia questioned, grabbing the arm of the physio attempting to pass by her. She'd been waiting for you by the medical rooms for a few minutes, only growing more nervous as time passed.

"Ambulance. They're taking her right to the hospital." The physio replied, looking sympathetically at the blonde.

Alexia swore, taking off down the hall and towards the doors. Thank god she was cleared to run again. The blonde just barely caught the ambulance before the back was slamming shut, hopping up and in. She slid in right next to the stretcher, instantly leaning over you.

"I'm here, pequeña." She murmured, taking in the absolutely devastated expression on your face.

"It broke, I heard it break." You whispered. Alexia felt like her heart was being squeezed at the sound of your shaky voice.

"It's all going to be okay, I promise."

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, Ale." You barely got the words out, a loud sobbing ripping it's way out of you.

Your sister looked confused, reaching a hand down to cradle your cheek. "You don't have anything you need to be sorry for, hermanita. Nothing."

The conversation was only agitating you, and the paramedic gave your sister a look, one telling her to change the topic.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, glancing down at your heavily wrapped ankle.

You bit your lip. "No."

Just then, the vehicle hit a bump, jostling the stretcher slightly. Your ankle was jolted, and you let out a high pitched squeak, gripping on tight to the sides of the stretcher.

"Sure, it doesn't hurt." Alexia sighed. "We're almost at the hospital, okay? They'll fix you right up."

Alexia was speaking to you like she had when you were much younger; when the injury to be fixed was a scraped knee, not a broken bone. It was comforting, though, a glimpse of soft and sweet Alexia that you hadn't really seen much of recently.

"Can you call mom?" You asked quietly. Your sister swallowed back tears of her own at how young you seemed suddenly. You were only 20, and though normally you acted much more mature than that, she was reminded of your age by the look of complete fear in your eyes.

Your mother, however, was out of the country on a girls trip with her friends She had been texting Alexia pretty much nonstop since the injury, and Alexia had only managed to reply to one of the texts. She told your sister, though, that she didn't have good enough cell reception to call. Alexia was going to have to be enough for you.

"Her internet isn't good enough to call, remember? I'm right here with you, though. I'm not going anywhere." Alexia vowed, peeling your hand of the side of the stretcher, and wrapping her hand around it.

Your sister didn't miss the unsure glint in your eyes, and although your hand tightened around hers, she could tell that you were holding back from her, at least a little bit. The trouble was, she didn't understand why. You used to go to Alexia with all your problems; she was one of the only people you would let see you cry. Now, though, you chewed aggressively on your bottom lip, blinking away your tears.

Alexia wondered when you'd stopped trusting her the way you used to, and why.

-----

Thank god that Barça had connections at the hospital; you were in and out of x-ray fast, seen by the doctor, put on crutches within the hour. Your foot was encased in a moon boot, all the way up your shin, and you were... miserable. There was a permanent scowl set on your face, and you were answering your sister's questions with simple yes's and no's, refusing to make eye contact.

Alexia's chest ached seeing you in this much pain. She felt like she used to feel when you were little, and you'd cry; like she'd do anything, anything at all, to make you smile again.

Your other sister arrived in a flurry of chaos, and Alexia watched on as you practically melted into the hug Alba offered. She didn't understand; you went to Alba when you were in trouble, or if you wanted to goof around. You went to Alexia if you were upset. That was how it had always been, but suddenly, you couldn't look her in the eye.

"Olga went to go get you some stuff from your apartment. You can stay with Ale until you're better, alright?" Alba said.

Alexia didn't know when Alba had contacted her girlfriend, or how the decision for you to stay with her had been reached, but she was glad for it. You shouldn't be on your own, physically, and if your current attitude was any indication, also mentally.

"Did the doctor say how long you'd be out?"

You grew visibly pale at the question. "At least 4 months."

Alba opened her mouth, clearly about to comment on how that was... a long time for a broken ankle. Alexia elbowed her in the side, sending her a look to not bring it up. Alba promptly shut her mouth, figuring Alexia would explain later anyway.

What she didn't know was that you'd broken both your fibula and your tibia. The bones would take time to heal, time to rehab, as well as the partially torn muscles in your ankle. You'd asked about surgery, but the process wouldn't be sped up at all if you were operated on. You had no choice, but to wait it out. 4 months away from the pitch. 4 months.

"Hey, y/n?" Alexia said, waving a hand in front of your face.

"What?" You asked.

"I said your name like 5 times." Alexia told you, taking in the bewildered expression on your face. You'd completely tuned out, lost in your thoughts.

"Oh."

"Ready to go?" Alexia asked finally, when you didn't offer an explanation.

"Yeah."

You stood, slightly shaky on the crutches from the pain medicine, and began to make your way to the doors of the hospital. Your sisters followed close behind you. They didn't know it, but anyone looking at the two of them would have instantly known they were sisters; sporting matching worried frowns as they watching you move down the hall. Neither of them was really sure what to say to you, to make you feel better, and they hated standing by and watching you be upset. Nothing seemed to be working though, and you offered them nothing as you made it to your sister's car, sliding into the backseat without a word. The car ride back to Alexia's was completely silent, both of your sister's were lost in their thoughts, as you were.

-----

Alexia lay awake in her bed, unable to shake the feeling that she needed to check on you. Staring at the ceiling, her mind was racing, through every interaction she'd had with you recently. She couldn't figure out when you'd started acting so... strange. In retrospect, it had definitely gotten worse recently, and she hadn't noticed. The blonde had been busy, dealing with her knee and her contract renewal. Now that she'd taken the time to really look at you, for the first time in weeks, she saw someone who was hurting. All she wanted was to fix it.

"Go check on her, Ale." Olga spoke up from next to her girlfriend. "I can hear you thinking from here, just go so you can see she's fine, come back, and go to sleep.

Alexia considered for a minute, before leaning over to kiss her girlfriends cheek, and sliding out of bed. She was wearing socks, and her footsteps were quiet as she padded down the hall and to the door of the guest bedroom. She was just going to peek in, but when she rested her hand on the knob, she heard quiet snuffling whimpers coming from behind the closed door.

Twisting the knob and stepping into the room, the sounds cut off with a sharp breath. Alexia didn't say anything, not yet. Instead she walked closer to the bed, towards where you were facing away from the doorway, pretending to be asleep in the middle of the bed. Your body was trembling under the covers, so much so that she could see it even in the dark. She took a careful seat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to rest a hand on your arm. As soon as she did so, you broke, curling up into yourself as a heart wrenching sob fought it's way out of you.

Before your sister could say a word, you were twisting to face her and gasping out an apology. "Sorry, Ale, I'm sorry."

Alexia didn't know why you kept apologizing to her, but she desperately wanted you to stop. "Shh, just let it out. It's all okay, nena."

"It's not okay, Alexia, it's not. I can't play. I can't play, not for months. I can't do it, I don't want to do it." Nothing you were saying was really making any sense to your sister, but she was sure she wasn't getting any more out of you while you were still so worked up.

"Just come here, nena," she murmured, opening her arms up for you. For a second, you looked so unsure, so apprehensive, and Alexia felt like crying herself. Then, something inside of you must have given up, and you were launching yourself, as best you could, across the bed and into your sister's arms. Alexia held you close, humming a soft tune as she held you tight against her, like she used to do when you were very small.

For once, you didn't worry about disappointing her, or seeming weak in front of her. You let yourself fall apart completely, your sister's arms wrapped around you feeling like the only thing stopping you from breaking into a million pieces.

"You are strong, pequeña, so strong. You can do this, I know you can. My strong hermanita. You can do anything. I bet you'll be back on the pitch before 4 months is up." Alexia's words only seemed to make you cry harder, so she stopped talking, focusing on rocking minutely back and forth.

What if you weren't strong? You knew you weren't as strong as your sister. What if you were weak? What if you couldn't do it? Alexia said you should be able to come back before 4 months, but what if you didn't? You'd be disappointing everyone, Alexia most of all. The fear of that, of letting her down, felt like it was squeezing all the air out of your lungs, until all you could do was cling to your sister, and wait for it to pass.

It wouldn't pass. The thoughts wouldn't stop ricocheting around your head, your deepest fears and anxieties. Everything you'd been pushing down for weeks was bubbling to the surface until you were a trembling mess in your sister's arms.

"You have to calm down, nena, breathe." Alexia tried to remind you. You could only shake your head frantically, and your sister sighed, her worry increasing. "Okay, let's go call Alba."

Without another word, she held tight to you and stood up off the bed, walking towards her room. You were past caring, at this point, where you had your breakdown. Calling Alba might be a good distraction, you thought. So, you wrapped your arms around your sister's neck, trying to steady yourself.

-----

Olga had just been considering getting up, and going to check on the pair of you, when she heard her girlfriend's steps returning down the hall. They were slower than normal, and her lips tugged into a smile, knowing exactly what was about to walk through the door.

Her smile fell when Alexia walked in with you in her arms, the miserable sounds you were making filling the silent room. She made eye contact with her girlfriend, feeling her heart sink at how helpless she looked.

Alexia placed you in the middle of the bed, pulling away just slightly so she grab her phone and call your other sister. She hit Alba's contact, absentmindedly rubbing your back as you cried into her. Olga scooted closer, resting her head on Alexia's shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort to her girlfriend, who looked completely distraught at the state you were in.

"Hello?" Alba answered, grumpy at being woken in the middle of the night.

"She's really upset, can you talk to her?" Alexia asked, forgoing a greeting and holding the phone to your ear. Alba sat straight up in bed, her soft voice a stark contrast to the tension and stress flooding her. She began talking, about her day, about her week, about the silly thing she'd seen at the dog park the other day.

Your sister's soothing voice, your other sister's calming patterns rubbed into your back, Olga's nails scratching lightly at your scalp, all probably combined as you began to calm down.

Alba's voice had vanished, and Alexia smiled despite herself, knowing the other girl had probably fallen asleep talking. When your sobs quieted to small whimpers, and your sharp gasps for air turned to the occasional hiccup, Alexia spoke again. You were half asleep, and you felt safe, so safe, so tired. You let Alexia's words wash over you, the final push before you shut your eyes, drifting off on top of her.

"I love you, so much. Always. I'll be with you the whole way, nena. I promise you."

Groggily, you wondered if she meant it. If she really would be with you through this, if she really would still love you when you inevitably failed. Because you were sure you weren't strong enough for this. Despite your certainty, you also knew that you would do everything you could to meet your sister's expectations. The doctors had said 4 months, you'd do it in 3. No matter what it took, no matter how hard it was. If you failed, you'd deal with that later.

-----

#woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader

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arieslost · 5 months

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cherry blossoms | ls2

summary: you have a meet cute in japan.

word count: 1,046

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this one is for my sweet mimi @lightsoutletsgo <33 thank you for coming up with this incredible concept, i loved writing it!!

being in japan during the springtime was always a magical experience, and it was owed primarily to the beautiful abundance of cherry blossoms. when the 2024 season calendar was announced and you saw that the japanese grand prix would be held during the spring, you wasted no time in procuring tickets and a flight to the country.

the paddock is absolutely stunning this time of year, you realized as you walk through it after qualifying. the teams were either debriefing or preoccupied with working in their garages, so the paddock itself was relatively clear, save for the blossoms that were falling out of the trees and lining the ground in brilliant pink. it’s almost overwhelming, but you and your camera can’t get enough of it.

you wouldn’t call yourself a professional by any means, but taking pictures has always been a fun hobby for you, and the vibrant japanese setting was the perfect subject matter for photos.

you were fully engrossed in your task, taking shots of the blossoms at multiple angles, even getting some action shots of blossoms falling through the air to rest on the ground. the paddock was much quieter than usual, and it was nice to only really hear the breeze against the sound of muted, far off conversation. you could even feel some of the stray blossoms brushing the top of your head and your shoulders. it was peaceful above anything else, and you weren’t bothered by it, gazing intently through your camera’s viewfinder as you walked along the paddock.

in retrospect, you probably should have been paying better attention to your surroundings. one moment you were adjusting where you stood to get a better focus on a specific blossom that you noticed, and the next you were colliding with something warm and solid.

“i’m so sorry— is your camera okay?!”

through the viewfinder, your eye focused on what (or who, rather) you’d bumped into. slowly, you lowered the camera so you could look directly at him. he was blond, and tall, and damn was he cute.

“yeah… it’s fine. are you okay?”

without saying anything in response, he reached out and plucked a stray blossom off of your shoulder that you hadn’t even taken note of. you looked down for a moment, overwhelmed with the gentleness of his touch, and missed him slipping the blossom into his pocket.

“thanks,” you said quietly.

“no problem. and i’m fine too,” he stretched out a hand to you. “i’m logan.”

“oh, right, of course! logan sargeant!” you exclaimed before feeling your cheeks heat up. “i mean… something less weird.”

he laughed. “something like your name?”

“right,” you laughed as well, introducing yourself. “i’m sorry for not paying attention. i just haven’t been here in the springtime in so long, i forgot how beautiful it was.”

“this is my first time here in the spring,” he shared, looking almost shy as he met your eyes. “but you’re right, it’s beautiful.”

“how was quali for you?” you asked, fiddling with the settings on your camera to hopefully still be able to get the photo you wanted.

“could’ve been better.” he shrugged, watching you lift your camera up to the trees. “getting good pictures?”

“amazing pictures,” you nodded, taking a few shots. “here, i’ll show you!”

enthusiastically, you held the camera out to him and started going through the pictures you’d taken throughout the day. eventually, you got back to the experimental ones you’d taken of a few cars on the track.

“hey, that’s me!” logan said suddenly, stopping you when the screen showcased the blue williams with the number 2 on it. “that’s incredible. you have a great eye.”

“hire me.” you said, mostly joking, but you could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he contemplated it.

“listen, i have to run, but… do you think i could get your number? i want to take you out. and maybe you can show me some more of your pictures.” he rubbed the back of his neck, watching you intently as you considered his offer.

“i think i’d like that a lot.” you replied with a smile, biting your lip to stifle the giggle that nearly escaped when he eagerly grabbed for his phone.

two years later, when you’re living with him and you turn over to grab your phone from the nightstand, you see a cherry blossom, pressed and proudly displayed on the wood surface. your whole body grows warm with affection when you feel logan’s arms around you, pulling you back into his soft embrace.

“logan,” you admonish quietly when he refuses to let you reach your hand out for the flower.

“stay,” he grumbles in response, brushing his lips against your shoulder.

“how long have you had this?” you ask, managing to grab the blossom before he pulls you further into him.

“hmm?” his eyes blink open and he looks at you with bleary confusion. “i love you, but why are you trying to wake me up right now?”

“it looks like you’ve had it for a while,” you continue, turning the blossom around in your hand.

“oh, that.” he lifts his head, watching as you inspect it. “i’ve had that since the day i met you.”

your jaw drops. “what?”

“yeah, it was on your shoulder when you bumped into me.” he explains easily. “just sitting there like it belonged there. i had it pressed so i’d always have a reminder of that pretty girl i met in suzuka, just incase i never saw you again.”

well. you weren’t expecting to tear up so early in the morning, but you’re still learning that logan sargeant is full of surprises.

“i love you,” you whisper, overcome with emotion as you set the blossom back on the nightstand.

“i love you so much,” he whispers back, leaving a loving kiss on your cheek. “even though you woke me up.”

“okay,” you giggle, putting a hand on his face and forcing his eyes shut. “let’s go back to bed then, sleeping beauty.”

“don’t need to tell me twice,” he hums happily, snuggling close to you and sighing in content.

you stay awake for a little while longer, admiring the pressed flower and thinking of how pretty a spring wedding would be in suzuka.

note: apologies if this feels rushed. i’m once again drowning in schoolwork as the semester ends this month 🙃 pray for me

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff

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couldsewyouastitchandsavenine · 3 months

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Sunshine [Joel Miller]

this is my entry to Summer Loving Challenge by @pedgito. Thank you so much for creating it and letting me be part of it. You're a star! Or shall I say, sunshine??

pairing: no outbreak joel miller x f!reader

wordcount: 1.7K

warnings: reader is she/her, sexual content/mild sexual themes (implied only), mild language, mentions of violence, overall safe to read.

prompt: ROADTRIP #2

She smiles too much, he thinks.

And Joel ain’t too fond of folks who smile all the damn time. Reckons they must be hiding something behind those shiny white teeth.

Thing is, he ain't even sure how Tommy managed to rope him into this foolishness. He’d stopped by his brother’s place for a cold one and somehow left having agreed to ferry his obnoxiously cheerful sidekick across the state to some new job she landed in Joel’s neck of the woods. Must have been the quiet begging in Tommy’s eyes that did it, he supposes. Joel may be a surly son of a bitch, but he ain’t heartless.

So here he is, with the sun barely up and her sitting pretty beside him. Sneakers-clad feet up on the dash like she owns the place, skirt of that yellow sundress riding up her tights.

Tommy’s friend. The motormouth. The endless goddamn ray of sunshine that Joel just knows is gonna make his jaw ache from clenching before they even cross county lines.

“Mind if I turn this thing on?” she breaks the silence, stretching a little to fiddle with the radio dials.

He fucking does. He’d rather drive in silence. But just shrugs instead.

Figures out it’s not worth the argument.

And as expected, her taste in music is as saccharine as the rest of her, all twangy guitars and lyrics about truck beds and tan lines. When she starts humming along off-key, he has to work very hard not to grind his teeth to dust.

It's going to be a long drive.

Joel sighs and glances over at her. Shifts a bit in his seat and admits, albeit grudgingly, that she's easy on the eyes. Has been ever since he's known her.

But the problem is, she’s just so… much. Never still for a minute, fingers tapping, foot bouncing, mouth running a mile a minute. He can practically feel all that restless energy buzzing under her skin, setting his own nerves alight. Makes him wonder if she even knows she's doing it, all them little twitches and squirms. If she's got any idea how it gets him all riled up without even trying. Joel ain't sure quite what to do with her.

And sweet Jesus can she talk. About this, about that. Everything and not a damn thing. About the weather and politics. The heat and some harvest festivals she’s helping throw. A whole slew of crappy dates, some dog she’s thinking of adopting. The gossip about people Joel barely knows and could care less about. So, he tunes most of it out, just grunts now and then so she thinks he's listening.

But at some point, whether because he’s getting bored or because of the heat, Joel catches himself actually paying attention. Learns she's a teacher, spending her days trying to cram knowledge into the heads of a pack of rowdy kids.

"It's thankless work," she laughs, "but I guess somebody's gotta do it."

Joel thinks it's pretty admirable, choosing a job like that. Lord knows he's had his share of crap gigs. Brings to mind those long, hot days pouring concrete under that merciless Texas sun. The way heat would shimmer up off the fresh pavement and make him feel like he's in some kind of fever dream.

“Look, I didn’t expect you’d want to give me a ride,” she pipes up after a bit. “I appreciate it.”

"Mm," he grunts, committing to nothing.

“I mean it, Miller. I was really close to sticking out my thumb and hitching.”

Joel's hands tighten on the wheel at the thought. "That's a good way to get yourself murdered."

She cuts her eyes over at him. "How do I know you're not some kind of murderer?"

He snorts. "Do I look like a murderer to you?"

"I don't know. What's a murderer look like?"

"Not like me."

"Hm. That's exactly what a murderer would say, I reckon."

He shakes his head, more than a little annoyed now.

This damn woman.

When they pull over for gas and to stretch their legs, Joel finds himself watching her as she arches her back like a cat in the sun, that sundress pulling taut across her chest; the skirt riding up even higher. Makes him look away real quick.

“I’m going inside to pay,” she chirps. “Want anything? Coke maybe? A three-day old sandwich?”

Joel peers at her. Mutters, “Nah, I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, Grumpy.”

Grumpy.

It's hardly the worst thing he's been called, but it chafes at him for some reason. For a second, he wonders what it would be like to be someone different. Someone who said yes to Cokes and gas-station sandwiches. To yellow dresses and sunshine smiles.

"You ever think about how weird it is that we can just go anywhere these days?" She starts in again before he even gets back on the road.

He squints over at her. "How do you mean?"

"I don't know. Cars and planes and those talking maps on phones. World's gotten real small. Used to be folks who didn't stray more than a few miles from where they were born. And now here we are, two random people rolling down the road in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere. Just 'cause we felt like it."

Joel's not sure he'd say he felt like it, exactly. But he gets her point. "I guess," he allows. "Makes you wonder what it musta been like. Back then."

"Doesn't it? No AC, no snacks, no radio to bicker over." She grins at him, teasing. "Though I suppose you would've done just fine without that last one, huh?"

He huffs, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “They wouldn’t need a radio with you doing all the talking. Probably would've driven the whole wagon train up the wall with your yammering."

“You mean, I would’ve livened things up?”

"Livened," he repeats, dry as dust, and she laughs. It's a good one, Joel thinks. Bright and uninhibited in a way he hasn't heard often in this life.

Suddenly gets the strangest urge to reach out and touch her. Trail his knuckles down the line of her throat, feel the vibration of it under his fingers.

Wraps his hands around the wheel instead, wondering where the hell that came from. If she notices his odd moment, she doesn't let on. Just keeps rambling on about dysentery and fording rivers and how she definitely would've been the first to die of cholera. Joel lets those honeyed tones wash over him and tries not to dwell on the tight, hot feeling in his chest.

By the time they pull up at the little house Tommy helped her get settled in, it's pitch black out. He can just make out her face in the glow of the dome light, those big eyes soft and serious for once as she gathers up her bags.

"Thanks again for the lift," she says, real quiet. "I know I'm not exactly your favourite person to be stuck with."

"Wasn't so bad," he admits, and it's almost not a lie. "Glad I could help."

She hesitates with her hand on the door handle, worrying that plump bottom lip with her teeth. "I'd invite you in for a beer but I know you probably want to get home."

He does. He should. But maybe it's that little waver in her voice, the uncertain set of her shoulders. Maybe it's knowing that the second she steps out of this truck, the strange little bubble they've been floating in is going to pop. Things will snap back to how they've always been, her grating on his last nerve from a nice safe distance and him avoiding her as best he can.

And maybe he's just not quite ready for that.

"Well..." he drawls, "I reckon I could come in for a cold one."

The smile she gives him could put the sun to shame, all dimples and crinkly eyes. Makes that tugging feeling in his chest pull so sharp it steals his breath.

He follows her up the porch steps and into the cosy hallway, his chest tight and his palms clammy like some nervous teenager. As she putters in the kitchen, fetching beers and clinking glasses, he stands in her living room and looks around at the organised clutter, the artfully arranged photographs, the bunches of wildflowers stuck in mason jars.

The whole place is so absolutely, utterly her it makes something behind his ribs ache fiercely.

When she comes back with two frosty beers, pressing one into his hand, they just stand there for a minute. Look at each other with the heavy weight of something hanging in the air between them. She takes a pull off her bottle, throat working as she swallows and it's more than he can take. The urge to put his mouth right there, to lick the sharp tang of hops right off her skin.

“So…,” she murmurs softly as she places her beer on the counter behind her and looks back at him. Her eyelashes flutter, and her gaze latches on his mouth. It’s a split of a second but Joel decides that he’s had enough.

He sets his own bottle down carefully. Cradles her face in his rough hands and leans in slow, so slow, until he can taste her shaky breath. She meets him halfway, arms winding around his neck as she opens up for him, soft and sweet as summer rain. He tips his head to kiss her deeper and she mewls into his mouth, hands flexing against his shoulders, and Joel is lost.

It doesn’t take long before they are stumbling back to her bedroom, all tangled up in each other. When he rids himself of his shirt and hovers above her, she is smiling, her fingers moving slowly to graze the warm skin of his back, and it’s so good Joel feels drunk on it.

Later, after, with her curled up asleep on his chest, Joel stares up at the lazy spin of the ceiling fan. Marvels at the strange turns a life can take. How somebody can get under your skin until one day you wake up and realise you forgot how to breathe without them.

He runs his fingers through the wild tangle of her hair, feels her sigh contentedly against him. Lets himself imagine, just for a minute, that this could be his life. That he could have something this soft, this sweet, and keep it.

Joel blows out a long breath.

Drops a kiss to the top of her head and lets his eyes slip closed.

Maybe there's something to be said for all that sunshine after all.

#summerlovin24 #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #this man is my roman empire

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Part 2 to this post

When gay marriage became legal, everyone expected Steve and Eddie to run to the courthouse and get it done.

They’d waited long enough.

But they were watching the news on a hospital room television instead of their home, keeping Wayne company while he received his last chemo treatment.

It had been a really rough six months, Eddie taking the brunt of caring for Wayne so Steve could work and pay the bills for all of them. But they wanted to.

Wayne had done so much for both of them, he deserved to be taken care of now.

The doctors had said he was getting to an age where the chemo would most likely only extend his life by a few years at most, that the cancer growing in his body would only be stopped temporarily by this drug that made him weaker than any cancer could.

At first, he didn’t want it. He told them both it wasn’t worth putting his body through it at his age, but Eddie convinced him through tears that he wasn’t ready to let him go yet.

And Wayne always did have a soft spot for Eddie’s tears.

Every other Friday, Wayne was brought to the hospital by Eddie, sometimes accompanied by Steve if his day off lined up right, hooked up to an IV of fluids and a harsh chemo mix, and kept for observation for 8 hours to ensure it didn’t cause any major issues on his frailer than he’d like to admit body.

The last treatment hadn’t gone well. Wayne ended up having low oxygen levels and high blood pressure, so they kept him overnight. Overnight turned into 3 nights, four days, which is sort of like a cruise to the Bahamas if you take out the fact they were in a hospital in Indiana.

Steve was holding Eddie’s hand as they all watched the tv, their silver wedding bands from a decade ago resting on their ring fingers.

It didn’t have to be legal to mean something to them.

Wayne had been much livelier over the last 24 hours, his blood pressure back at a normal for him level, though his oxygen level still fluctuated between too low and normal.

“Would ya look at that? They did it.”

Steve looked over at where he was sitting up in bed, smiling at the tv.

“They did.”

Eddie was wiping a tear from his cheek.

“Took them long enough.”

Everyone in the room huffed out an unamused laugh.

It did take way too long.

“Steve.”

Steve looked back over to Wayne and noticed he was looking tired again, like the news was the only reason he’d been forcing himself to be awake.

“You remember that bet?”

They’d made a lot of bets over the years, usually during March Madness. Wayne purposely bet against Steve because it was an easy win, even though they liked the same teams and often had similar brackets.

So no, he didn’t really remember whatever bet he was talking about now.

“Oh come on. I’m the old one here. You’re supposed to have great memory.”

“I’ve had like, eight concussions. My memory is like a goldfish.”

Eddie snorted next to him and nodded in agreement. Just this morning Eddie had to remind him that it was trash day despite it being the same day every week for the last 17 years they’d lived in their house.

“You owe me $5.”

“I’d remember that.”

“Eddie asked for you.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other with concern. Was Wayne having a stroke? Was he slowly losing lucidity? He’d never shown any signs of memory problems, but sometimes being in the hospital had a lot of negative effects.

“When Eddie woke up in ‘86. I told you he’d ask for ya first and he did. Never collected on the bet because you two were too much.”

Steve suddenly remembered everything from that day, tears pooling in his eyes at how all of this started.

If he hadn’t stayed to hold Eddie’s hand then, would he be holding it now? Would they be husbands in every way but legally?

Steve looked at Eddie with a smile.

Then he turned to Wayne and smirked.

“Bet you $5 I propose right now.”

Wayne smirked back at him.

“Bet you won’t.”

Steve gave him the look that said ‘just watch me’ and stood up, dropping to one knee slowly.

“Eddie Munson. We already wear rings. We’ve lived together as husbands for so long, I can’t even believe we aren’t actually married. But I want to be. I want to fill out the stupid paperwork at the courthouse and maybe plan a little wedding with our kids and family. I want to have a honeymoon and be young and in love even though we aren’t young anymore. I want to be yours in every way starting right now. How does that sound?”

Eddie was crying. He was always more emotional than Steve, he just hid it better. Usually.

“You wanna be mine?”

“I’m already yours. I just want us to have everything.”

“Then I wanna be yours.”

“Good.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed him, more passionately than they usually ever did in public or around Wayne. It was a special occasion, though, what choice did they really have?

After a minute, Steve pulled away and looked over to Wayne.

“Sorry about your $5.”

“I’m not.”

Wayne had never been more pleased to not be able to collect on a bet.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ao3fic #tumblr drabbles #headcanon #part 2 #stranger things #my fic #wayne munson #future fic #wayne is old and sick here but he does not die

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welcometothejianghu · 9 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth

The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).

I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.

This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.

1. Zero thoughts head empty

You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.

It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.

Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.

It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.

Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.

So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!

2. Putting the poly in polycule

Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!

Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.

I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.

If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!

Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.

Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.

Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.

And then there is, of course, The Ship:

Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.

And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?

3. She likes e4e

So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.

There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.

Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).

Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.

So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:

Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.

Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!

Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.

4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)

Time for a fashion show!

The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.

What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.

They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).

Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.

Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.

Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.

So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.

5. Actually a good central plot?

Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.

The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.

His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?

It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.

No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.

Feel like giving the youths a try?

You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)

You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.

Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?

In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.

#the blood of youth #少年歌行 #bloody youths #i made this #rec post #the party is a polycule #LeiDHD

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blackpearlblast · 10 months

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a rundown on the listed e-sim platforms from this tweet from mirna el helbawi. visit esimsforgaza to learn about this effort. (they also have a tutorial on how to purchase an esim and send it to them)

update v12 (5/21/24) holafly (israel and egypt), nomad (regional middle east), simly (palestine and middle east), mogo (israel), and airalo (discover) are currently in the highest in demand. if it has been more than 3 weeks since you initially sent your esim and your esim has not been activated, you can reforward your original email with the expiration date in the subject line. you can see gothhabiba’s guide for how to tell if your esims have been activated. if your esim has expired without use, you can contact customer service to renew or replace it.

troubleshooting hint 1: if you are trying to pay through paypal, make sure you have pop-ups enabled! otherwise the payment window won't be able to appear. (this issue most frequently seems to occur with nomad)

troubleshooting hint 2: if you are trying to purchase an esim using the provider's app, it may block you from purchasing if your phone does not fit the requirements to install and use their esims. use their website in your browser instead and this problem should go away.

nomad

for the month of may, first time referrals give 25% off for a person's first purchase and 25% off the referrer's next purchase! it's a great time to use someone's referral code from the notes if you are a first time buyer.

you can use a referral code to get $3 off your first purchase and also make it so the person whose code you used can buy more esims for gaza. many people have been leaving their referral codes in the replies of this post and supposedly a referral code may eventually reach capacity so just keep trying until you find one that works! BACKPACKNOMAD is another code to get $3 off your first purchase, it's been working for some people but not others so try out a referral code instead if you can't get it to work. NOMADCNG is a code for 5% off any middle east region nomad esims posted by connecting gaza. it can be used on any purchase, not just your first but is generally going to give less off than the first-purchase only codes, so use those first. it can be used in combination with nomad points. AWESOME NEW CODE: nomad esim discount code for 75% off any plan, NOMADCS25 do not know how long it lasts but this is an amazing deal esp. since they are really low on esims right now! (nomad promo codes do not work on plans that are already on sale, unlimited plans, and plans under $5)

weekly tuesdays only code on nomad web, PST timezone! it gives 10% off plans 10gb and above. NOMADTUE

nomad also seems to be kind of sluggish sometimes when it comes to sending out emails with the codes. you can look for them manually by going to manage -> manage plans -> the plan you purchased -> installation instruction and scroll down to install esim via QR code or manual input then select QR code to find the QR code which you can screenshot and email to them. often just the act of logging back into your nomad account after purchase seems to cause the email with the code to come through though.

mogo

mogo's website is fucking annoying to navigate and i couldn't find any promo codes, but their prices are massively on sale anyway. you have to pick if you want your esim to be for iphone, ipad, or android for some reason. according to statcounter, android makes up approx. 75% of mobile markets in palestine while iphone represents approx. 25%. so i would probably recommend prioritizing donations of android esims but if you can afford multiple, try buying an iphone one too? if i can find any official direction from the connecting gaza crew on this i will update with it.

a good referral code to use for mogo is 8R29F9. the way things are worded are confusing but as far as i can tell, if you use it we both get a 10% discount on your first purchase. (the referrer gets a 10% voucher that allows them to top up in use esims, they are someone who i know has bought a lot of esims and will be able to make good use of the top-up discount vouchers!) also upon signing up it automatically generates a password for you which you can change by downloading the app. (check your email to find your account's current password)

holafly (also looking for holafly esims for egypt now)

holafly is pricier than the others and the only promo code i could find was ESIMNOW for 7% off. someone in the tags mentioned GETESIM7 as another 7% off code they had received, so if you have already used ESIMNOW or can't seem to get it to work, try GETESIM7. another 7% off code is HOLAXSUMMER7 which is valid until june 2nd. referral codes only seem to give 5% off and they don't stack. (i don't remember the source, it was on some sketchy coupon site i don't want to link to and only can recommend because i tried it myself) you can also use my referral link for 5% off if you can afford the 2% worse deal on your end, it will give me $5 credit which i can put towards buying more esims. connecting gaza has also posted the promo code HOLACNG for 5% off but since it is less than the 7% off codes and as far as i can tell does not give credit towards others to buy esims like the referral links, i would consider it lower priority for use.

simly (note: simly must be downloaded as an app to be used, the website link is to help people confirm they are downloading the right app)

i have not personally used simly so i am going to be going off of the sixth slide of mirna el helbawi's instagram guide, with some corrections from someone who has successfully purchased an esim from simly. after downloading the app and making an account, search for palestine or middle east and purchase your preferred package. the page the app takes you to after your purchase should have the QR code to send to the esimsforgaza email, it won't show up in your email receipt. someone kindly left her referral code in the tags of this post, it gives $3 off your first purchase and will give her $3 credit to put towards purchasing more esims for gaza. the code is CIWA2. (if this referral code doesn't work, try one from the notes of this post!) according to someone in the notes, ARB is a simly promo code for 25% off esims that is still working as of march 3rd.

airalo

some people have noted issues trying to sign up for airalo using the browser version of the website, it worked for me but if you are struggling you can give the mobile app a try and that should work. you can use a referral code to get $3 off your first purchase and give the code suppler a $3 credit for buying more esims. KARINA9661 is a code sourced from this post which is also a wonderful example of how using people's referral codes can really make a difference. if for some reason that referral code isn't working, you can find more in the notes of the original esim post i made here.

@/fairuzfan also has a tag of esim referral codes for various platforms!

(note: mogo and holafly both link to israel esims as there are no general regional packages for the middle east like on nomad and the esims for gaza website specifically linked to the israel package on mogo, so i linked to the equivalent on holafly.)

#esims for gaza #esims #gaza #palestine #free palestine #connecting gaza #despite not having used simly myself i'm fairly experienced with esim services at this point so i will likely be able to answer some #questions and i also have someone familiar with simly i can ask if i am not sure of the answer myself. so please go ahead and ask questions #if you're struggling with donating an esim from any of these sources!

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juniperss · 2 months

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heheh i’ve always wondered how the outsiders boys would kiss. like is it sweet and soft or like heavy and passionate. or even where they like to be kissed 🤭🤭🤭 i love my silly little greaser boys

*kicks my feet* coming right up, anon!!

Kissing the Gang Headcanons:

Darry:

In ‘Chocolate Kisses’ I wrote that Darry’s kisses are always heavy and full, so allow me to expand on what I mean by that! I fully believe that Darrel kisses with his entire being each and every time he kisses you as if he’s trying to convey how much you mean to him with just his mouth. “Full” meaning that his lips are completely on yours and “heavy” meaning that you’re usually not just kissing, you’re full on making out. He’s pouring everything he has into those kisses, He’s not big on PDA and since he’s almost always surrounded by the Gang he makes up for lost time by kissing you A LOT in private and with all of his attention. The kinds of kisses that make your chest burn from how long they are. His lips are usually chapped or dry since he works outside, usually under the sun. He’s a great kisser and has had years of practice (look he was a football star and pretty popular, what do you want me to say???).

Two Bit:

One word: Fun. His kisses are always followed with a smile from one of, or both of, you. He’s kissing everywhere on your face before he gets to your lips and then he squishes your cheeks as he reaches your mouth. Even when he’s trying to be sexy about it there’s such an element of fun in the way he kisses you. You make him happy and that always comes out in his kisses. I don’t see him having a problem with PDA at all, much to the annoyance of everyone around you two! While he loves to kiss you on the lips, I can definitely see him being a fan of neck or shoulder kisses!! Especially when you two are lounging around or waiting in line for snacks at the drive in; he just presses kisses to your shoulder while he stands behind you.

Sodapop:

Soda is a romantic, or at least he likes the idea of being a romantic. We see that when he loves someone, he’s completely dedicated to them and that definitely translates into kisses. His kisses are gentle and earnest, always chasing your lips with his even if he’s the one who initiated the kiss. He makes sure he’s wearing chapstick so his lips aren’t rough and he always tastes faintly of mint. Soda is a big fan of kissing you when you’re sitting on the kitchen counter or on one of the cars he’s working on so he can put his arms on either side of you while you two kiss. Really he’s not paying attention to anything around when you’re smooching him and whenever you pull away he’s got this glazed look in his eyes like he’s coming out of a trance. Because he doesn’t pay attention to his surroundings during kisses, you two have been caught kissing A LOT by the guys and that means you have to deal with the roasting that follows.

Dally:

His kisses are either possessive or playful and I don’t think there’s really an in-between. Dallas’s temper and emotions run hot and cold at an incredible speed, so it only makes sense to me that his kisses vary on mood, day and whatever happened .2 seconds prior. His possessive kisses are slow and forceful, one hand on your waist and the other on your neck, holding you still the entire time. His playful kisses are fast, almost teasing and leaving you chasing after his mouth. Dally likes to kiss, he likes to makeout and he’s happy to do it whenever you ask. He’s not much into PDA, he prefers to have his attention on his surroundings and the environment and PDA makes him concerned that he’s not going to be prepared.

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #darry curtis #darry curtis x reader #two bit x reader #two bit #two bit matthews #dally winston #dally winston x reader #sodapop curtis #sodapop curtis x reader #my writings

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seliasvault · 9 months

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The Supermarket

this started off as a continuation for the gym!simon fic but it just became it's own thing

supermarket!simon x reader, cw: stalking, dark simon riley

Part one

1 │2 │3

Simon Riley hasn't experienced kindness, so when you show him some, he goes a little crazy.

Grocery shopping is either the funnest thing in the world or the biggest pain in the ass. And right now you're feeling it's the latter.

After a long day of work, walking around a crowded, loud store was not your ideal night. But having no-anything and little to no money, forced you off your spot on the couch, leaving it and your unfinished show behind.

You've survived, barely, trotting the shopping cart, leaning your full body weight onto it for support, eyes half closed as you wait in the checkout line. The day you’re most drained had to, of course, be the busiest day this grocery store's seen.

As you mindlessly scroll through your phone, a sudden sharp pain surges through your back, you’ve been, of course, crashed into by the cart behind you. Letting out a breath of surprise you turn to face the culprit.

Face still twisted in pain, you see a boy, around 10, with not an ounce of remorse on his face. A little annoyed you turn back, and not a minute later you're interrupted by a man, presumably his father. He makes an excuse, profusely apologizing, and so you, of course, accept the apology, give your classic,

"Don't worry about it! It happens!" and what tries to be a genuine smile but miserably fails.

Exasperated, your head is now seated between both your arms as you wait impatiently for your turn.

When you eventually near cash, another thing seems to be against you. The man in front of you, of course, seems to have forgotten his wallet.

You take a quick peek at the total, 115$, a steep number, one that you don't think you could afford, but the line won't move if he doesn't find a way to pay, and the nice thing to do is cover it.

So you chime in,

"Hey, y'know what it's okay I got it," You give him a soft smile, reassuring him that really it's no trouble. Sure you’ll have to skimp on next week's groceries, but a good deed's a good deed, you suppose.

He doesn’t move, like he hadn’t heard you, until you make your way to the machine does he finally speak.

“S’alright, don’t need them anyway.” He goes to leave.

“No really, it’s no problem,” click, you move fast, the money's gone through, not much he can say now. All you can hope for is he takes the food, and leaves so you can crawl back to your couch.

He turns around, looking at you, albeit a little weirdly, you can only see his eyes, the other half of his face covered with what looks to be a mask, the ones that wrap around your neck.

You pay no mind, averting your eyes to look at your cart, on any other day you might be more pleasant, smiling, maybe even small talk.

But the day seems to just get longer and longer, and he stares for another beat, a soft, “Thank you.” follows.

He picks up the bags, all five in one hand, you stare a little too long at the hand that holds them all, before snapping back to reply.

“No problem, have a good night.”

Was his response a little lackluster? Considering you really can’t afford anything else for the month, yes, but who knows maybe it made his day, you shut yourself down before you overthink the whole thing.

Finally, your turn you finish everything up, and your total's 95$, again more than you can afford, and so you put back the homemade burger buns, bread’ll have to do, and that pasta sauce is given back too, along with some extra produce.

You’re total comes up 55$, a number you feel a little more comfortable committing to, you're handed the bags, and you leave.

You take them out to your car, putting them in securely, and head home.

After you’re home, seated on the couch, laptop atop your lap, mindlessly scrolling through various shopping sites, do you receive a call.

Your phone rings often, at least twice a week with a number you’ve never seen and an area code far from where you are, chalking it up to a scam call every time you’ve never answered, this time no different.

You take a quick glance at the phone next to you, not recognizing the number you go back to the pair of red shoes that were on sale for a dangerously good deal.

Your phone rings again, a little weirder this time as scammers tend to call once and move on, but on the off chance it’s not a scam, you're sure they’ll leave a voicemail or a message.

A ding is what furthers your confusion, and the message itself is what chills your bones.

“It’d be in your best interest to answer that.”

Was it highly unusual? Sure, we’re you a little scared? Yes, but then again it could always be a wrong number. You had recently changed phone plans, and your number changing with it so really it’s a simple explanation, you do however feel bad for whoever that was meant for.

Your phone rings again, worrying you further but you leave it, if whoever texts again you’ll respond, just to put an end to the dings.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

A little intimidated by now, your mind starts to jump to conclusions, you haven't met anyone new, and haven't given your number to anyone recently.

You text back.

“i think you have the wrong number”

“Last I checked, this was the pretty sweetheart from the supermarket, was it not?”

You swear your heart stills, before coming back to life, beating tenfold.

This could very well still be a wrong number, everyone goes to the store, just because you did today doesn’t make you special, probably some guy trying to chat up a cashier.

“sorry, i really do think you have the wrong number”

Your mind flickers through the number of possibilities, it could be a prank, one of your friends trying to scare you. Though, this wasn't the kind of prank they'd pull.

“You sure?”

“yes???”

“Then why can I see ya texting lovie? All comfy with your laptop, I think you should get that those, red suits you.”

Your head whips around to the window your sofa's seated next to, no one's out there, it’s not possible, you live in an apartment building, 20 floors above ground. The only way he could see you was if…

“who is this”

You get out immediately, sure it’s cliche but it’s all you can manage, all that comes into your anxiety-riddled mind. You're suddenly aware of every noise and every shadow in your living room.

“You know who it is.”

“i really don't buddy, just answer the question”

“I think the better question is how got inside, check your kitchen.”

You feel like you've been doused with ice water, heart beating so loud it's the only thing you can hear. The thought of getting up to investigate, when he's more than likely to be inside. You guess you waited too long contemplating because you hear another ding sound from your phone.

“Check your kitchen, don’t make me make you sweetheart.”

Your heart skips, hesitantly you stand, slow steps moving toward the kitchen, your eyes scanning for any movement, anything, ears on high alert for the drop of a pin.

When you finally make it around to the kitchen, you're eyes once again scan the corners, the pantry, and then they fall on the counter.

Sat atop are four bills, four hundred dollar bills, alongside a note.

It then finally clicks into your head, the man in front of you in the line.

Surprisingly neat writing,

Had to pay you back,

See you soon.

Eight words scrawled onto a page. Your mind is overwhelmed with the questions flying through, pay you back with four hundred dollars? See you soon?

You grasp at your phone, rushing to text him, to gain some answers, maybe even report him to the police. Pulling open your messages, the text threads disappeared, along with his number from your call log.

You're left even more confused, did he have access to your phone? When was he in the apartment? Was he still here? If he wasn't how could he see you?

Anxiety overwhelms you, as you stare at the large sum of money and the only trace of him on your kitchen counter.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader

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