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#IT WAS RIGHT THERE ON THE TRENDING PAGE TOO
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okay so I’ve never actually requested before but when you asked for some requests I couldn’t resist since I was stalking scrolling through your page but anyWAY ✨
what about a fake text thingy where reader does that trend where right after their s/o leaves, they text them “you can come now, they’re gone.” to see their reaction. I’d mainly be interested to see it with Mr.bang bUT if you’re up to it, ot8 would be cool too!!
hope you’re having an amazing day/night 💕
skz when you text “you can come now, they’re gone.”
genre: fake texts, angst
warnings: suggestive, mentions of sadness, dom minho (sorry not sorry), hyunjins kinda broke my heart, sorry about changbins (that’s just how it is in my brain, okay?)
an: sorry this took so long, i’ve been going through some shit. idk if this is my best work, this was hard. i hope you like it and tysm for the request 🩷 i love ya
masterlist
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chan
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lee know
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changbin
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hyunjin
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han
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felix
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seungmin
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jeongin
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🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕
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torgawl · 5 months
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i hate that i had to compile articles and data for my mother to read to prove my point on why the romani people are used as a scapegoat and they're not actually our enemies :/
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loveyouprongs · 3 months
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are you awake?
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prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader
upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words
authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!
masterlist
you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.
"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.
you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.
“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”
he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.
“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.
“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.
you looked beautiful, he thought.
“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.
“did i say that out loud?”
“you did.”
“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.
“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.
“what happened this time?”
“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”
you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-
“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”
“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”
“you’re making me be real?”
“oh, nevermind.”
had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.
“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”
“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”
a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.
“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”
“of course”
“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.
“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”
“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.
“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.
“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.
hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.
it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.
“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.
“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.
“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”
he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.
“but don’t you like being held?”
“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”
“there’s no sense to cuddling!”
“there’s sense to everything!”
“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.
you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.
“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”
he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”
“i love you too, now get some sleep.”
the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.
it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.
remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.
“are you awake yet.”
“no.”
“oh, okay, sorry.”
“mmm.”
two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”
“are my eyes open?”
“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”
“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.
“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.
“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.
“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”
he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.
“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”
you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.
“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”
remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.
“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.
i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.
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clown-owo · 2 months
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I love inventing terrible in universe fandom drama.
Gavintwt fell into a couple months of terrible discourse about Klavier’s sexuality. people argue about whether he's gay or just queerbaiting and then people argue about how this is invasive actually and real people can't queerbait and Klavier is just openly queer the whole time with a song literally titled "my boyfriend is the prosecution's witness". blissfully unaware.
There's a trend of Gavinner stans committing crimes or messing with crime scenes just to be prosecuted/called as a witness by Klavier. he has to put out a formal statement imploring his fans to pursue other methods of getting his attention:
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just. please. stop. please.
A few years after the disbarment someone digs up an old viral post that's like
📖 tilthat February 15, 2018 TIL that during a case in 2016, a defense attorney cross-examined a parrot during the final day of court. The defense won the case. 🐢 tortise-law February 15, 2018 Sit your ass the hell down this motherfucker's name is fucking Phoenix Wright and you don't understand how fucking batshit that case is. He was defending prosecutor Miles Edgeworth, who he had previously DESTROYED THE PERFECT RECORD OF. And it STARTS with Wright proving a witness didn't actually see the murder because they were searching for the goddamned Loch Ness Monster. And not only that, the case ends with him ACCUSING THE OTHER PROSECUTOR, MANFRED VON KARMA, OF ORCHESTRATING THE WHOLE MURDER AND KILLING EDGEWORTH'S FATHER. AND HE WAS RIGHT???? LIKE???? 🎩 gay-ramarye February 16, 2018 holy shit reading this guy's wiki page is a fucking trip. not only does he have a perfect win record, that defendant immediately followed this up with FAKING HIS OWN DEATH??? spacejamminninja-deactivated2018 February 16, 2018 How is this not a tv show already. What the hell do you mean he faked his death 🪶 is-the-hawk-video-cute February 17, 2018 tbh if my defense attorney cross examined a parrot and accused the opposing counsel i'd fake my death too 🌸 pinkprincess February 18, 2018 japanifornia cases are just Like That i have never heard of a normal one.
and gavinblr suddenly realizes that that was the dude Klavier got DISBARRED a couple years ago. viral sensation parrot cross-examiner Phoenix Wright. the fandom goes crazy for a few days but then Klavier does a new photoshoot and they all move on.
A post joking about shipping Klavier’s brother with the guy Klavier got disbarred becomes a huge meme in gavinblr and a subsection begins writing ironic Krisnix RPF that progressively becomes genuine and then turnabout trump happens and the fandom explodes again. Half the Krisnix shippers jump ship to Klapollo because they felt weird about shipping a murderer (and did you SEE the Kitaki case? Klavier was sooo flirting with the defense <3). The other half doubled down and reveled in the angst potential. Part of the Klapollo shippers started truthing. They study court transcripts to prove that Klavier and Apollo are in love if not already dating. Unfortunately they’re right.
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celestialwhoree · 21 days
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💕have you seen that tiktok trend of girls calling their boyfriends their husbands? got me thinking how the cod men would react to it (not tiktok related ofc)💕
I love it I love it I love it 🥲🤚
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Price already calls his partner 'The Mrs', 'The Wife' et cetera, so I don't think he'd be too surprised if his girlfriend was on the phone with her girlfriends or something making plans and she lets a "Let me check with the husband, one sec" slip. They also have very open conversations about marriage and what their future will look like, so husband, Mrs and other honorifics aren't some huge surprise or foreshadowing for an oncoming proposal.
Kyle's girlfriend is always calling him random things she's seen online. He awkwardly had to ask her whether calling someone 'pookie' was a good thing, to which she went on an hour long tangent of the 'lore'. She spends a lot of time online, whilst he has a private instagram page with like twenty followers and no profile picture which he uses exclusively to post workout pictures or hype her up in the comments of her own posts. If (when) she calls him husband, he knows it's not serious, but he's flattered nonetheless.
Simon knows that his girlfriend has a tendency to call him her husband when she's jealous. Girl getting to close to him at the pub? Husband. Some girl commenting on one of his (very infrequent) posts? Husband. She probably even goes so far as to take his phone to change his instagram bio to her username with a ring emoji. He's perfectly happy to go along with whatever makes her happy, and buys a shiny promise ring online for when they go out to really play up the marriage act.
Johnny actually shits his pants when she calls him hubby, or something along those lines, thinking she's found the engagement ring he's waiting for the right time to pull out. He freaks out when she says it, until she reassures him that it's just a trend, and she doesn't expect him to propose at any time soon. From then on out, he puts the ring box in a new hiding spot every couple of days, just to make sure that she doesn't find it. She already knows he's bought it, but she'll play along.
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pucksandpower · 8 months
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Borrowed Time
Charles Leclerc x single mother!Reader
Summary: you do everything in your power to make your sick son’s dream come true but what you don’t realize is that meeting his hero will change all of your lives forever
Warnings: terminal illness and death
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“You know what would be the coolest, Mama?” The soft voice of your son, Luca, breaks through the silence of the hospital room.
You brush a stray hair from his forehead, trying to coax a smile onto your face despite the weight in your chest. “What’s that, sweetheart?”
“To meet Charles Leclerc. Just once. To tell him he’s my hero.” Luca’s eyes, though tired, gleam with that familiar spark every time he talks about Formula 1.
Your heart aches, knowing how much this means to him. “He is pretty amazing on the track, isn’t he?” You respond, reminiscing about the countless races you’ve both watched together from this very room.
Luca nods, holding his toy race car, a replica of Charles’ Ferrari. “Yeah, but it’s not just that. He never gives up, even when things get tough. Kinda like me.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice, making you marvel at his resilience.
You pull him close, tears threatening to spill. “You’re my hero too,” you whisper, kissing his temple.
He snuggles closer, murmuring, “I just wish I could meet him, Mama. Tell him he gives me strength.”
You take a deep breath, new resolve settling in. “You never know, my love. Miracles happen.”
The determination you feel is like a roaring fire and you silently vow to make Luca’s dream come true. No matter what it takes.
***
As the evening shadows stretch across the hospital room, you find yourself deep in thought, racking your brain for any means to make Luca’s wish a reality. You think about reaching out on social media, starting a campaign, anything to catch Charles Leclerc’s attention.
You start by posting on your personal pages: a heartfelt message accompanied by a picture of Luca holding his toy race car, the walls of his room adorned with posters of Charles racing. #LucaMeetsLeclerc, you caption it, hoping against hope that the message reaches the right eyes and ears.
The following days are a whirlwind. Friends, family, and even strangers share the post, and the hashtag starts trending in your community. Messages of support flood in and local news channels express interest in Luca’s battle.
One evening, after reading Luca a bedtime story, your phone buzzes with a notification. It’s an email from a name you don’t recognize but the subject line sends your heart racing: A Special Meeting.
Opening it hastily, your eyes skim over the words:
Dear Y/N,
I represent Charles Leclerc. We were deeply moved by Luca’s story and would like to arrange a meeting ...
Tears blur your vision and you can’t help but let out a soft sob of relief and joy. Luca, hearing your cry, looks up at you with curious eyes. “Mama? What’s wrong?”
You pull him into a tight embrace, trying to convey all the love and happiness you feel. “Sweetie,” you whisper, pulling back to meet his gaze, “I think your dream might just come true.”
Luca’s eyes widen and his smile lights up the room brighter than any lamp ever could. The journey to fulfill a lifelong dream has just begun.
***
The hospital room feels heavier than usual. The rhythmic beeping of monitors fills the silence as Luca plays absent-mindedly with his race car on the bed. Just as you are about to suggest a card game, a knock interrupts the monotony.
“Come in,” you call softly.
The door opens and to your astonishment, Charles Leclerc himself steps inside, a shy smile gracing his features. He seemed different than on the TV — more human, more vulnerable.
“Ciao, Luca,” Charles greets, his voice gentle.
Luca’s eyes widen, his jaw dropping. “You ... you’re real.”
Charles chuckles, pulling a chair closer to the bed. “Last time I checked, I am. Your mom tells me you’re quite the fan.”
Luca nods vigorously. “You’re my hero. When you race, I feel like I’m flying. Free from this …” He gestures vaguely at the hospital equipment surrounding him.
Charles’ eyes soften. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. But, you know, you’re a hero too. Racing against challenges every day.”
You watch their interaction, touched by Charles’ genuine empathy. “Thank you for coming. It ... it means the world.”
Charles turns to you, a depth of understanding in his eyes. “When I read about Luca, I saw more than just a fan. I saw a fighter. Just like on the track, it’s the fights we don’t see that often matter most.”
There is a brief silence, filled with unsaid emotions.
Luca’s voice, trembling with emotion, breaks the quiet. “I have a question, Charles. How do you stay brave even when you’re scared?”
Charles takes a moment before responding. “I focus on the present. Fear often comes from thinking about what might happen. But in the moment, there’s a job to do, a race to finish.”
Luca looks thoughtful. “So, you mean I should focus on now and not think about ... later?”
Charles nods, placing a comforting hand on Luca’s. “Exactly. Live in the now and remember that every race has its challenges. It’s how we face them that defines us.”
Tears well up in your eyes, gratitude and admiration for Charles swelling within you. Here he was, not just a racing star but a beacon of strength for your son.
“Thank you,” you whisper, voice choked with emotion.
Charles smiles, glancing between you and Luca. “No, thank you. Today, I met a true champion.”
***
“You know,” Charles begins, playing with the edges of the signed Ferrari cap he just gifted Luca, “I once met a kid, a bit older than you, at a race. He told me that every time he felt like giving up, he’d watch one of our races. Said it gave him hope."
Luca’s fingers trace the signature on the cap. “Is that why you race? For people like him ... and me?”
Charles leans back, gazing out the window for a moment. “Partly. But also for myself. Racing ... it’s my passion, my escape. It’s where I find my strength.”
You feel compelled to share your own perspective. “We all have our races, don’t we? For Luca, it’s here, fighting every day. For me, it's trying to be strong for him, even when I feel like falling apart.”
Charles looks at you intently. “It’s incredible the strength we find when it’s for someone we love. Your journey, your race, is just as important — is more important — than any I’ve been on.”
Touched by his words, you continue, “I watch you race. The precision, the dedication. It’s art. I want Luca to have something like that, something to pour his heart into.”
Luca chimes in, his voice soft, “I think I already have something. Watching races with Mama, it’s our thing. It helps me forget, even if just for a while.”
Charles leans forward, engaging Luca directly. “Then let’s make a promise. You keep fighting your race here and I'll keep racing out there. Deal?”
Luca’s smile is radiant. “Deal.”
There is a pause, a moment of reflection, before Charles turns to you. “You're an incredible mother. The strength you show, the love ... it’s palpable. And it reminds me so much of my own maman.”
You blink away tears. “We do what we have to for our children.”
He nods, a faraway look in his eyes. “She would always say the same thing after losing my father. And sometimes, despite all the pain and struggle, we find connections, kindred spirits, who remind us we’re not alone.”
You smile, feeling a deep bond forming, not just between Luca and Charles but between two souls who understood the depth of love, sacrifice, and hope.
***
“I have a proposition,” Charles offers, the twinkle in his eyes belying the gravity of his words.
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Go on.”
“How would you both feel about attending a race in-person? I can make sure Luca is comfortable and you both get the full VIP experience.”
Luca’s face lights up with hope and disbelief. “Really? I ... I’d get to see you race in real life?”
Charles nods, “Right from the best seat in the paddock.”
You hesitate, considering the logistics, the health implications. “I don’t know. It’s a beyond generous offer but Luca’s health …”
Charles raise a hand, preempting your concerns. “I’ve thought about that. We have top medical facilities at the track and I’ll make sure we have everything necessary for Luca.”
“You’d do that for us?” you whisper, the weight of his offer sinking in.
Charles leans forward, sincerity evident in his gaze. “I’ve won races, stood on podiums. But the race Luca is running, the courage he’s showing ... it’s unmatched. I want him to see a race, not just as a spectator but as a fellow racer.”
Luca looks up, eyes brimming with tears. “You make it sound like I’m a hero. But I’m just trying to get by, just trying to ... to live.”
“And that’s what makes you a hero,” Charles replies gently. “Facing adversity and pushing through, not because of fame or accolades but because of love, hope, and sheer will.”
You feel a lump in your throat, deeply moved by Charles’ words. “It’s not just race wins or trophies that make you a champion, Charles. It’s moments like this. Thank you. This means more than words can say.”
He smiles, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “In the grand scheme of things, life is the most important race. And in that race, I’ve found two champions right here.”
***
In Monza, as you settle into the VIP area with Luca by your side, the excitement in the air is overwhelming in the best way possible. The roar of the engines, the sea of red flags, the bustling energy of the crowd — it is a sensory overload that fills Luca’s eyes with wonder.
“Monza is special, you know,” Charles whispers, kneeling next to Luca’s wheelchair, overlooking the historic Italian track. He slips off a red Ferrari bracelet from his wrist, its well-worn leather showing its age. “This was given to me when I first joined Ferrari. I like to think that it’s brought me luck ever since.”
Luca’s eyes widen, tracing the intricacies of the bracelet. “Why are you giving it to me?”
Charles smiles, “Today, I want you to hold onto my luck. Keep it safe for me, will you?”
Nodding fervently, Luca reverently holds the bracelet. “I promise.”
When Charles leaves to prepare for the race, Luca clutches the Ferrari bracelet to his heart. “Mama, did you see? He gave this to me. His lucky bracelet!”
You smile, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. He wants you to keep it safe. It’s a piece of his heart.”
As the race progresses, you both watch in awe as Charles’ navigates the twists and turns of the circuit. Your heart races with every lap, both as a fan and as someone who had come to know the man behind the helmet.
And then, the moment you’d never forget — a triumphant finish, Charles Leclerc taking the checkered flag. The Tifosi erupts into cheers, and during the celebration, you almost swear that Charles’ eyes find yours among the crowd.
Over the radio, his voice crackles through the airwaves, reaching not just the pits but into your very soul. “This one’s for Luca. Keep fighting, champ.”
Luca’s eyes widen, his hand clutching the bracelet even tighter. “Did you hear, Mama? He said it for me!”
Tears well up in your eyes as you nod. “Yes, sweetheart. He said it for you.”
The post-race interview is a blur of emotions. Charles, sweaty and exhilarated, is asked about the race, about his victory. But then he pauses, his gaze distant yet focused, his voice trembling with emotion.
“This win ... it’s for someone very special. A young friend of mine named Luca. He’s fighting a battle much tougher than any race and his spirit, his courage — it’s what carried me through today. Luca, this is all for you.”
***
The roar of the crowd has faded but the emotional high from the race lingers. You, Luca, and Charles head back to the hotel provided by Ferrari with laughter and memories of the day filling the conversation.
However, as the night passes by, a chilling silence envelopes the room. Luca’s breathing becomes shallow, his skin clammy. Panic bubbles up within you. The medical equipment that was always close by in the hospital is absent here.
You rush to his side, your hands trembling as you try to comfort him. “Luca, honey, stay with me. Breathe.”
Charles, witnessing the scene, feels a deep pang of fear and helplessness. “I’ll call for help,” he says, fumbling for his phone.
As you count the seconds for first responders to arrive, Luca’s weak hand reaches out, clutching Charles’ wrist. His voice, barely a whisper, shares a desperate plea. “Charles, if ... if I don’t make it, promise me you’ll look after Mama. She’s strong but she'll need someone.”
Charles, tears blurring his vision, nods, squeezing Luca’s hand reassuringly. “I promise. But you’re a fighter. You have to keep racing, okay?”
Luca manages a faint smile. “Always racing, Charles. Always.”
Emergency services arrive soon, the room transforms into a flurry of medical professionals and machines. Charles wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as you both watched, praying for a miracle.
Hours feel like lifetimes. When the medical team finally manages to stabilize Luca, the emotional toll is evident in every face in the room.
You approach Luca’s bedside, gently stroking his forehead. “You gave us quite a scare, sweetheart.”
Luca, though exhausted, manages a faint smirk. “Had to keep the race interesting, right?”
Charles, his voice choked with emotion, adds, “Every race has its challenges, remember? You faced this one head-on, just like a true champion.”
Luca’s eyes meet Charles’ own, a depth of understanding passing between them. “Remember your promise,” he whispers.
Charles nods, his gaze drifting to you. “Always.”
***
“You know, I’ve seen some tough races,” Charles begins, his gaze distant, “but nothing compares to what I witnessed last night. The strength, the love, the sheer determination.”
You sigh, exhaustion stamped across your face. “Every day is a race. Some days, the finish line feels close, other days it feels miles away.”
Charles takes a deep breath, his voice wavering slightly, “I ... I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through but I want to be there, for both of you. Luca asked me to look after you and that’s a promise I intend to keep.”
You look up, surprised by the depth of his commitment. “You’ve done so much already. You’ve given Luca memories he will cherish forever.”
He moves closer, his eyes searching yours. “It’s not just about Luca. It’s about you too. Through this entire ordeal, the strength you’ve shown, the love … it’s made me see life in a different light.”
A silence envelopes the room, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring Luca.
“I’ve raced all over the world,” Charles whispers, “but I’ve never met someone who’s touched my heart the way you both have. I want to be there for you, for whatever you need.”
You blink back tears, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. “It’s been so long since someone offered to share the load. I’m not sure I know how to let someone in anymore.”
Charles gently takes your hand. “One step at a time. Just like in a race. We face each challenge as it comes, together.”
A tear escapes, trailing down your cheek. “Thank you, Charles.”
He brushes the tear away, his touch lingering. “No, thank you. For letting me be a part of your world and for showing me what real strength looks like.”
***
“Look at that,” Luca murmurs, pointing towards the sunset painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The three of you sit atop a hill overlooking the city, a picnic blanket spread beneath you.
Charles takes a deep breath, the fresh air filling his lungs. “You know, moments like this make me appreciate life even more. The simple joys, the beauty all around.”
You nod, taking in the serene view. “It’s easy to get caught up in the chaos and forget these moments exist.”
Luca’s eyes shimmer with a mix of mischief and wisdom beyond his years. “You two sound like philosophers. All I know is that this sandwich tastes amazing.”
You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Always living in the moment, aren’t you?”
He grins. “That's the secret, Mama. We have to savor every bite, every sunset, every laugh.”
Charles, deeply moved, joins in. “You're right, Luca. In the races, I’ve learned that every second counts. It’s the same with life.”
Luca nods earnestly. “Exactly! You can’t rewind time. You can only enjoy it.”
The evening wears on with laughter, stories, and shared dreams. The three of you revel in the simplicity of the moment frozen in time.
As stars begin to sprinkle the night sky, Luca turns to Charles, a serious expression on his face. “Promise me something?”
Charles leans in, listening intently. “Anything.”
“Make more moments like this with Mama, even after ...” Luca's voice trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air.
Charles squeezes Luca’s hand, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise, champ. Moments full of love, laughter, and sunsets.”
Luca’s watery laugh has tears pooling in your eyes. “You know, when you look at the sunset, remember me. Remember this moment.”
You turn to him, tears now overflowing. “Luca …”
He smiles, a mixture of melancholy and contentment in his gaze. “I may not be here forever but I'll always be a part of these sunsets. A part of you.”
Charles, his voice a gentle whisper, adds, “And a part of me.”
***
“Mama?” Luca’s voice, frail and delicate like the gossamer wing of a butterfly, quivers with fear.
You lean in closer, grasping his hand between both of yours, heart heavy. “Yes, my love?”
He swallows hard, searching your eyes with his own clouded ones. “I’m scared, Mama. I don’t want to go.”
Tears blur your vision but you muster a brave smile for him. “I know, sweetheart. But remember our sunsets? Sometimes, the sun has to set to make way for a new dawn.”
Luca’s fingers weakly grip yours. “But what if it’s dark, Mama? What if it hurts? What if I’m all alone?”
Charles, unable to remain a silent spectator, interjects, his voice cracking with emotion. “You won’t be. It will be just like falling asleep. You’ll have the sunsets, the memories, and all the love we’ve shared. That light will never fade. We will always be here. I promise.”
Luca’s eyes shimmer with tears but also a glimmer of hope. “Will you sing for me, Mama? The song from when I was small?”
Your heart breaks, remembering the countless nights you’d sung him to sleep. Taking a deep breath, you begin, your voice soft and lulling:
“You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine,
You make me happy
When skies are gray ...”
Luca’s breathing slows, his grip on your hand loosening.
“You’ll never know, dear,
How much I love you,
Please don’t take
My sunshine away.”
As the final note leaves your lips, Luca’s chest rises gently one last time, then stills. The room is silent, save for your heart-wrenching sobs.
Charles steps closer, wrapping his arms around you as you crumple into him, your world shattering. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, tears streaming down both your faces.
***
The somber quiet of the funeral is punctuated by the soft cries of mourners. The backdrop of gentle flowers contrast starkly with the weight of the grief in the air.
Charles stands next to you, holding a polished helmet, the vibrant colors of his Monza race-winning headgear gleaming under the sun. He turns to face you, eyes red-rimmed.
“This,” he starts, voice choked, “is my helmet from Monza. The race we won together. He was my co-driver that day, in spirit.”
You take a shaky breath, reaching out to touch the helmet, feeling its cool surface, the memories of that day flooding back. “He would’ve been so proud to have this.”
Charles nods, tears streaming down his face. “And this,” he says, taking the Ferrari bracelet off his wrist, “he held onto it for me once. I ... I want him to have it. To keep it safe.”
You clutch the bracelet, feeling its familiar weight, the leather still warm from Charles’ wrist. “It meant the world to him. And to me. Thank you.”
The two of you stand side by side, staring at the small casket adorned with flowers and memories. The embodiment of a life cut short but filled with love and unforgettable moments.
Together, you place the helmet and bracelet inside, a final tribute to a young racer whose journey had inspired so many.
“He’s free now,” Charles whispers, his voice barely audible. “Racing in the skies, no pain, no limits.”
You nod, tears flowing freely. “Our little champion, forever.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, both of you finding solace in each other’s warmth. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves, carrying with it the memories of a brave soul, forever remembered, forever missed.
***
The familiar crest of the hill looms ahead, the very spot where laughter and dreams once danced in the wind. You and Charles reach the top, the vast expanse of the horizon stretching out before you. The setting sun casts a golden hue, much like that unforgettable evening a year ago.
Charles lays down a blanket, reminiscent of that day, and the two of you sit, lost in memories. The silence isn’t empty — it’s filled with remembrance of a young boy’s laughter, his dreams, his courage. The hole he left behind in your hearts.
“Do you ever feel,” Charles hesitantly cuts through the quiet, “that Luca is still here with us, watching these sunsets?”
A tear slips down your cheek. “All the time. Every time I close my eyes under the setting sun or look up at the sky, I feel his presence.”
Charles takes a deep breath, struggling with his emotions. “I’ve been thinking about a way to honor Luca. To keep his spirit alive.”
You turn to him, eyes questioning.
“A foundation,” Charles begins, “In Luca’s name. To help children with terminal illnesses and their families. To give them hope, love, memories.”
You feel a rush of emotion, a tidal wave of love and loss. “He would have loved that. To know he’s making a difference even now.”
Charles nods, tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘It’s not just about the financial help. It’s about the moments, the memories. The sunsets and the picnics. The dreams and the hopes.”
You intertwine your fingers with his, drawing strength from the bond you’ve forged. “We’ll do it together. For Luca.”
The sun slowly dips below the horizon. As the first star appears, a sense of peace envelops the two of you. In the heart of sorrow, a new purpose is born, ensuring that Luca’s light continues to shine, guiding countless souls out of the darkness.
***
The sun sets in a blaze of colors, casting a warm glow over the hill that has become a symbolic memorial. Charles and you sit side-by-side, hand-in-hand, watching the bittersweet horizon.
A small voice breaks through the silence. “Mama, Papa, why do we come here?”
You turn to your daughter, a smile tugging at your lips. Lucia, with her curious eyes and radiant smile, is a constant reminder of love and life renewed.
“We come here to remember someone very special,” Charles explains gently, his eyes, so similar to your daughter’s, filled with tenderness.
Lucia looks at you both, a hint of understanding in her innocent gaze. “Luca?”
You nod, voice soft. “Yes, sweetheart. Your big brother. We come here to celebrate him, to tell stories about him, and to show him how much we love him.”
Lucia frowns slightly. “But I never got to meet him.”
You stroke her hair, your heart aching and swelling simultaneously. “He’s always with us, in our hearts. Just like you are.”
Charles leans down, wiping away a tear that escapes your eye. “And you’re named Lucia after him, to carry his memory forward.”
Lucia’s eyes light up, smile shining bright. “I’m like a part of him?”
“Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “A part of him lives on in you. In all of us.”
As the sun dips below the horizon, bathing the world in twilight, you hold each other tightly, a family united by love, loss, and the enduring spirit of a young boy whose legacy lives on in every sunset, every star, and every beat of your hearts.
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heavenlyhischier · 1 month
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‘𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝’ - 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫
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word count: 0.8k
summary: you do the ‘call your boyfriend your husband and get his reaction’ trend.
warnings: none! short and sweet. mostly dialogue. it's just cute!
You were scrolling through Tiktok as Nico watched whatever film he needed to for their upcoming game when you got the idea. The trend had appeared a few times on your for you page already, and the thought popped into your head each time, but you were always at work and by the time you got home, you’d forgotten about it. It was harmless and simple, but it was also cute and fun.
You turned your phone off and left it on the coffee table as you approached Nico from behind, wrapping your arms around his front as you leaned on him. He lifted one of his hands to rub the skin of your arm as he turned towards you and gave you a lazy smile. You delicately pressed your lips to his own for a fleeting moment before you pulled away.
“Can we go to that coffee shop down the street,” You ask, your lips turning upwards, “They got a few new drinks I want to try with you!”
Nico couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched your face light up with excitement, but he was quick to agree. The two of you are on your way to the local shop down the road after Nico had paused his game and the both of you slipped on your shoes. He always let you pick the music when you were riding in the car with him, but you always slipped in songs you noticed he’d been listening to recently and it always made him smile. When you had gotten the drinks, one for each of you, you sat back in the car and tried to set your phone up to film.
“What are you doing,” Nico shakes his head as your phone falls for the third time. He picks it up from his floor board and manages to balance it on his dashboard with the help of a half-drunk water bottle. 
“Videoing,” You playfully roll your eyes, “I’m going to post it for this trend that I saw!”
“Okay, schatzi,” He laughs before he relaxes in his seat, watching as you reach for your phone to press the red record button.
“Okay, so my husband and I are going to be trying these new drinks from a little coffee shop in the city,” You begin, doing your best to keep your focus on the screen and your face neutral, but the way the word flows so naturally off your tongue makes you blush.
The use of the word ‘husband’ catches Nico off guard, but he quickly recovers and he can’t stop the smile from forming on his face. He’s only looking at you as you continue talking for a little bit, his eyes wide and adoration. He doesn’t care if it was a simple slip of the tongue, it makes warmth spread in his chest all the same when the word tumbled from your lips.
“First we have the cinnamon bun frappe, so my husband is going to try it and let us know what he thinks,” You grin as you take the cup from its holder and turn to Nico, “It’s not what he usually gets because he thinks it’s too sweet, but he’s going to try it for us right?”
He has a flustered look on his face, his cheeks red and eyes crinkled as he takes the drink from your hands, “Yeah, of course I am.”
He glances away from you and takes a small drink from the straw, his features slightly scrunching from the sweetness of the drink. He lets his gaze flicker over to you and he does his best to look like he enjoyed the sugary drink you mistook for a coffee, but he failed miserably. You giggled as you watched him forcefully swallow the small sip he had taken before looking back at your phone.
“Okay, so that one is not husband approved,” You point out as you let out a small laugh, listening to the way Nico shuffles in his seat so his body is angled towards you.
“Are you saying that on purpose,” He asks, raising his brows when you catch his eye.
“Saying what,” You feign confusion, slightly tilting your head as you bite back a smile of your own.
“Husband,” He smugly smiles as he leans over the center console, “I’m not complaining. I love it actually.”
You watch as he gets closer to you, your body instinctively leaning towards his own like he was your own gravitational pull. His eyes briefly flicker down to your lips as the two of you wait for the other to diminish the small distance between you. You let out a sigh as he reaches a hand over to cup the back of your head, his thumb massaging your scalp.
“Do you really,” You whisper, nudging his nose with your own as you ghost your lips over his.
“Yeah, I really do. Can’t wait until it’s reality one day.”
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kaiser1ns · 1 month
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𝘀𝗮𝗲/𝗸𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝘀𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲)
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╹synopsis :: your boyfriend gets jealous because of your photoshoot with another footballer player
╹contents :: fluff, a little bit ooc, sae gets jealous of kaiser, kaiser gets jealous of sae, dramatic and sassy boys, 0.5k words for Sae , 0.5k words for Kaiser
╹notes :: just randomly thought of this, hope you liked!
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ITOSHI SAE
He doesn't like social media for the sole reason that he can see something that he didn't needed to know about. And now he wants to delete every app he has on his phone and sue the company who thought that you being next to Michael Kaiser was a very good idea. Marketing strategy to put two very famous people who are liked all over the world so they can attract more attention and sales. He knew you had a upcoming photoshoot, but you didn't mention anything else about it and now as Sae scrolls through the Instagram page of the sport sponsor's photos, looking how you put your head on the German's shoulder, the other photo of him that has his wrapped around your waist, then you holding soccer ball all smiles and giggles. It makes him want to vomit and gouge his eyes out.
"I can't believe they paired you with Michael Kaiser," he mutters, his voice tinged with jealousy, narrowing his eyes as his grip around the mobile tightened. You know him better than anyone else including himself and for all of the years you have been together — he gets extremely sassy when jealous. His famous stoic and nonchalant demeanor, rarely revealing his emotions can't fool his girlfriend. You reach out to take the phone from his hands, you persisted, your fingers playfully poking his cheek. "Sae, it's just part of the job" you reassure him, trying to calm his racing thoughts, "Are you perhaps, jealous?" but he only rolled his eyes at this comment of yours, crossing his arms and not looking at you but straight to the TV in front of him.
In response, Sae grumbled, his tone dripping with sass as he attempted to deny his emotions. "I am not," he insisted, though the dramatic flair in his voice betrayed him.
"Yes, you are~" you teased him, knowing that he can't lie to you, and he too does know that.
"No," he protested, though his resolve was weakening under your gaze.
"Oh, you definitely are," you persisted, refusing to let him off the hook so easily.
"Absolutely not," he insisted, though the tension in his voice betrayed his facade.
But you knew him too well to be fooled. "No, you are not" you countered, your tone gentle yet firm.
"Yes, I am," he said without thinking, Touché Y/N. Your boyfriend always uses reverse psychology against you, so safe to say you learned from the best.
"I mean, what's next? You gonna be posing with Leonardo Luna for a perfume ad?" He turned his head and gave you a pointed look, he was so cute you wish you could take a photo of his face right now.
You laughed at his behaviour, for a man who was deemed very serious, sometimes he acted like a child being all pouty and sassy. Running your thumb over his cheekbone soothingly. "Oh, please, as if anyone could replace you," you tease, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "You're the only one who has my heart, Sae. Kaiser's just a prop in this grand show called advertising."
Sae rolls his eyes once again, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he concedes, finally relaxing against your touch. "But I will sue the company."
"Sae, no!"
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MICHAEL KAISER
The German prodigy was always interested in the newest fashion trends, believe it or not, as he always spoiled you with the best quality designer clothes, jewellery, shoes, perfumes — you name it, you most definitely have it. He just adores you and wants the best for you, but right now he's wondering what he did wrong to deserve this?
Was he not enough for you, was he not the best boyfriend you ever had, was he just something temporary that you could so easily forget about?
As you walk through the door, you're met with a sight straight out of a soap opera. Your boyfriend, draped dramatically across the couch, staring at the ceiling as if it holds the secrets of the universe.
You raise an eyebrow, "My love, are you okay?"He turns to you, his expression a mix of betrayal and hurt. "Oh, nothing much. Just questioning my existence, like why did my girlfriend decides to do a photoshoot for the cover of a magazine with another guy?"
You blink, trying to process. "Wait, what? You mean the Versace shoot?"
He sits up suddenly, his eyes widened of you casually talking about it "Oh, of course, thanks for admitting your mistake. Because everyone casually poses for Versace with Itoshi Sae, right? It's just your average Tuesday activity."
You can't help but laugh at his overreacting theatrics. "It's not like I'm going to run away with him. Or do you want me to?" He crosses his arms, still pouting. "Hmm, maybe. Since you clearly don't love me anymore."
You playfully roll your eyes, moving to sit beside him, "When they called you to be the model, you were busy with the Euro finals." Kaiser was about to open his mouth to defend himself but he sure was busy when the photoshoot took place. "Besides it's just Sae, nothing to worry about. He couldn't care less about others." He sighs dramatically, but you can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You smirked and wanted to tease him more, knowing how much he disliked a certain someone. "Exactly! Imagine if it were Yoichi instead of Sae. You'd probably start a protest outside the magazine headquarters."
He feigns offense, as he stood up from the coach. "My girlfriend and that sucker on the cover together? I'd have to kill him for real this time."
You grabbed his arm and pulled him to sit on the couch again, hugging him and kissing his temple as you played with the blue hair of the mullet. "Don't be silly now. You know I will never leave you, no matter what." He melted into your embrace, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I know. Just don't go giving me a heart attack with those Isagi jumpscares, okay?" You pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek. "You have my word," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "I promise no more Isagi jumpscares." He chuckled softly, leaning into your touch. "Good, because I don't think my heart can take it." With a playful glint in your eye, you added, "Unless you want me to revive you with a kiss every time."
"I would like to kiss you on different occasions, thank you."
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
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bluewxrld07 · 3 months
Text
Stuck (Luke Hughes)
Warning(s): none
Luke Hughes x female!reader
Summary: In which you do the famous Tik Tok trend, telling your boyfriend your tampon is stuck
It was a nicer evening in Jersey, the weather finally being decent after being knocked over by the crazy below zero insanity. Y/n was finishing up her skincare waiting for Luke and Jack to get back to the apartment from an evening practice, a plan in motion to prank Luke.
It had become a thing between the couple to prank one another after a night post a game, when Luke decided to bring home squid thrown on the ice by a fan.
Leaving it in the fridge for y/n to only yell out a scream at the rotting sea creature the next morning, trying to get her coffee before her workout.
She had been doing her digging for this next prank, knowing it was time for her to hit him with one. This one was more so a test too. A loyalty test if you will. Thanks to Tik Tok of course.
One afternoon, y/n was scrolling through her for you page, only to stumble upon a prank a girlfriend did to her boyfriend. A tampon prank. She immediately grinned ear to ear, knowing that this little test would get Luke to cave.
It had to at least. Especially sine she was actually on her time of the month. It would be more believable.
So after finishing her skincare, hearing the front door open, she set her phone up in a way where it wouldn't look suspicious or seen easily by the curly-headed boy.
"May the pranks be ever in your favor, Hughesy," she chuckles quietly to the phone, hearing her name being called out.
"Babe?" he calls out, his footsteps being heard down the hallway.
She could hear the brothers saying goodnight to one another, his bedroom door opening. "Baby, you good?" she hears on the other side of the door, the girl trying to hide her amused smile before answering.
"I uh," she says slowly. "Luke?" she says, biting her lip to hide her laugh.
"What's going on?" he asks, the girl opening the door. He scans her figure, a confused frown on his face. Y/n crosses her arms, looking up at him.
"I need you to take me seriously when I tell you this, okay?" she said, watching an eyebrow of his raise.
"Why?" he trails off slowly, then his eyes widen. "Are you pregnant, y/n?"
She rolls her eyes and palms her forehead. "No, babe, I'm on my period remember?"
"Oh shit right. Then why are you acting funny?"
"You swear you won't laugh at me?"
"Promise you I won't."
Y/n sighs, hiding her face in her hands for a second as they stood there. "I was trying to change my, you know, out," she starts off, her eyes looking up at to his.
"And I can't find the string." she says, watching his face turn contort into a frown. "What string?"
"Luke my tampon is stuck."
His eyes widen, eyebrows raise, mouth dropping slightly. "What do you mean it's stuck? Where's the little string attached to it?" he whispers in shock, running his hand over his mouth.
Y/n looks at him with a look. "Luke I just said I can't find it. It's really stuck, like I can't get it out." she says, watching his face contort to different emotions.
"So what're you going do? How're you gonna get it out?" he asks, gesturing to her lower abdomen, one hand on his hip.
She gives him a sheepish smile, watching the confusion turn to horror. "Luke," she trails off. "I need you to try and help get it out."
Luke freezes, his eyes looking back into hers, then darting down to her abdomen, then back to her eyes slowly. "Get the thing out? The thing inside you?" he asks, and she nods with a hum.
"Lu, it's really stuck. I really cannot get it out." she says in a horrified voice. He hums, staying frozen in his position.
"Do you think you can get it out?" she asks.
"Uh huh," he says softly with a nod, his horrified eyes looking into hers.
"Really? You'd help me even if it's all bloody?" she says, watching him put a hand over his mouth and nod once again. "Yeah, yup, sure would." he stutters out.
Luke runs a hand over his face, walking away from the doorway for a second, only to come back without his sweatshirt on, only clad in his t-shirt that was underneath.
"Alright baby, let's get this going," he says while shaking his arms out as if he was about to go lift something heavy. He turns on his flashlight from his phone, making his way towards her.
She immediately puts a hand on his chest, bursting into a fit of giggles. He looks at her with a frown, raising his hands up in the air. "What? I'm gonna help you get this thing out, aren't I?"
"Babe, it was a prank." she laughs, pointing to her phone. He immediately looks over at the camera, rolls his eyes, mumbles an oh thank fuck, walking out of the bathroom.
Y/n rolls her eyes at his dramatic response. "Oh stop, you loved me enough to be willing to help get it out."
He turns around to look at her and point. "Not loved. Love. watch your grammar." he retorts, walking up to her once again.
"Okay mister tough guy. But glad to know you love me enough to help me. Even if it's all messy." she chuckles, pressing a couple chaste kisses to his lips.
"Now hurry to bed, I need a good sleep tonight. I almost would've had nightmares for days." Luke jokes.
Y/n scoffs playfully. "I need to go to the bathroom actually, and then I'll be out so calm down." she says, shutting the door softly.
Luke settles into him and y/n's bed, sighing at the comfort. Smiling at his girlfriend's antics, then shaking his head. His eyes found the nightstand next to his bed, a certain velvet box hiding in the corner of the drawer.
"Lu, we actually have a real problem on our hands," Y/n calls out a few moments later. The boy closing his eyes. "And what is that?" he asks.
"It's stuck. Like for real this time."
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joeys-babe · 2 months
Text
Joey B Blurbs: Dinosaur
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Summary: You make the mistake of helping Joe make a TikTok account.
Warnings: None, pure silliness
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic
————————————————————————-
February 15, 2024
Out of nowhere, Joe plopped down next to me on the couch and put his phone on my lap.
“Can I help you?” - you
“Yes, actually!” - Joe pointed to his phone
I looked down at his phone to see that it was the TikTok log-in or sign-up page that pops up when you first download the app.
“What?” - you
“Can you help me make an account? My dinosaur ass can't figure it out, but I wanna follow you and see the videos you post. Ja’Marr was talking about the videos you posted of me and you for Valentine’s yesterday, but I had no idea what he was talking about. I wanna be able to see your posts.” - Joe
“Why? So you can approve of them?” - you
“No, nothing like that! I like watching the videos you make of us, and I think they're cute. Plus, I rarely ever get to see the finished prank videos. Please help me?” - Joe
I thought his reasoning was adorable, so I happily helped him.
“Do you want it to be an official account or incognito?” - you
“Incognito.” - Joe
Nodding, I handed him his phone so he could type a username in.
I was absentmindedly staring off when I heard Joe giggle.
“What?” - you smiled
He handed me his phone, and I playfully rolled my eyes at the username he typed out.
Simp4Y/N_B
“You're a dork.” - you laughed
“I mean, I am making the account to watch your videos, so it's kinda fitting.” - Joe grinned
After getting the rest of the account setup process completed, Joe made me type my username in the search so he could follow me.
“Wanna follow anyone else? The team you play for, maybe?” - you
“Nope. This is all I wanted.” - Joe
——
You had no idea what a mistake that would be, and you were dealing with the consequences.
It wasn't even the next day yet, and Joe had blown your phone up, mass-liking every video you've ever posted.
Then he found the AI Spongebob singing videos…
“Joseph Lee, send me one more TikTok, and I'm going to block you.” - you
“Watch the last one I sent!” - Joe
“No!” - you
“It's Patrick singing Billie Jean!” - Joe
We were lying in bed, or at least I was, but my phone continuously vibrated on the nightstand, and Joe laughing kept me from sleeping.
“Go to sleep.” - you
Joe rolled over and laid his head on my shoulder, his hand propping up his phone on my chest to show me the video.
Like he hadn't already watched it ten times, Joe couldn't stop laughing.
“I'm gonna shove you off of this bed.” - you
——
Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, they did. They damn did.
Joe found Jett and Campbell. (IYKYK)
Now he randomly calls me Pookie as a joke, but with way too serious of an expression for my liking.
He'd gone to pick up my online pickup order from the store for me, and when Joe called me to tell me he had received my order, he greeted me in a way that made me want to hang up.
“Hey, baby.” - you
“Hey, Pookie. I got your order and am almost home.” - Joe
A few seconds of silence went by till I spoke up.
“Call me that again and I'll file for divorce.” - you
“You wouldn't do that, you love me too much... right?” - Joe
“I would never even think of it. I was just kidding, Joey.” - you
“Good because I can't live without you.” - Joe
“Can't live without you either… I love you more than anything.” - you
A few seconds of silence went by before Joe spoke up.
“Love you too… Pookie.” - Joe
“Bye.” - you hung up
——
After threatening divorce, Joe toned it down with the “Pookie” shit, but then he found trends that guys were doing on their girls.
We were in bed one night, cuddling and watching a movie, when out of nowhere, I heard an unmistakable edit audio playing. I looked over at Joe’s phone only to see my face and an annoyed expression on Joe’s.
Joe put his phone down on his chest and scooted away from me.
“Joe…” - you
“Nope, it's okay. Comforting knowing that my wife can recognize songs that are in the background of videos of other men.” - Joe
“You're being silly. I'm huge right now because I'm pregnant with your kid.” - you
“You're not huge… but that still doesn't make up for the fact that you knew that sound.” - Joe
I rolled over onto my side and curled up against Joe. He begrudgingly reached out and ran his fingertips over my bump that was pressing against his side.
“You're crazy if you think I don't have an edit of you saved with the same song in the background.” - you grinned
Joe looked away, suddenly feeling bashful as his cheeks flushed pink, and I lightly scratched his bare arm with my nails.
“You're playin’.” - Joe
“No, I'm not!” - you
I grabbed my phone out and pulled TikTok up, immediately finding my collection titled “Hubby ❤️🤭”, and scrolled till I found the video I wanted.
“Woah, you weren’t joking.” - Joe
“Don't you look hot as fuck?” - you
“I'm just drinking water on the sidelines…” - Joe
“Exactly!” - you
————————————————————————-
Authors note: idk what to say 💀
Request in this fic;
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Hope you enjoyed! 💕
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ddejavvu · 10 months
Note
What would it be like to do the break bite bang chocolate trend with rooster?? Hmmmm I wonder 😏
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Break, Bite, Bang - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: You and Bradley decide to try the viral tiktok sex chocolates, and you follow their instructions to the letter.
Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), dirty talk, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), afab!reader, fem!reader, handjob, thigh riding, use of aphrodisiacs, teasing, lots of messy makeouts
WC: 4.9K / navigation
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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Considering Bradley's sex drive is already remarkably high, you're not sure why you bought the chocolates. But the countless videos of sweaty, fucked out couples that you saw on your for you page never failed to intrigue you, and when the little box comes in the mail, you're more than ready to put it to good use.
Bradley's just returned home from a run when you slit the box open, raising a curious eyebrow as he pants, "What'd you order, babe?"
"Chocolate," You hold up the package for him to see.
He frowns, too far away to read the words on the front, "I could have bought you a hershey bar at the gas station."
"This is not a hershey bar," You grin wickedly, "Have you heard of tabs chocolate?"
"Are they that fancy ass Australian company that charges, like, $50 per bar?" Bradley takes his workout towel, swiping at the sweat over his brow.
"No," You laugh, "They put aphrodisiacs in their chocolate."
"Aphrodisiacs," Bradley hums with a furrowed brow, "Isn't that-?"
"It's sex chocolate," You reveal, "You up for a bit more exercise today?"
"Sex-ercise," Bradley rushes for you with a shit-eating grin, far too proud of his shitty joke. He's grabbing for the chocolates but you snatch them away, lips wrinkled in a grimace.
"Hey, what-?"
"Not after that." You glare at him, "That was awful."
"Oh, come on!" He laughs, tugging the box out of your hands, and scanning the cover, "Come on, have some chocolate, honey, it'll make you feel better."
"Whatever," You grumble, snatching the little foil squares from their places, "Okay, break," You snap the square in two, "Bite," You hold Bradley's portion out for him, letting him take it from your hand. His mustache prickles against your skin and you bite back a giggle, stuffing your mouth with chocolate instead.
The sweet is savory and bitter on your tongue, with just the right amount of sugar. It's primarily dark, the aphrodisiac component, and you'd buy it for the taste even if it wasn't going to make you fuck like rabbits.
You don't get to swallow the chocolate and finish their signature slogan before Bradley's wolfed down his bar, tossing the package on the table and surging for your lips, "Bang."
The kiss he drags you into nearly buckles your knees. It's intense, it's made sweeter by the chocolate coating his tongue, and his fingers dig into your waist as he tugs you close.
"Mmf- Bradley!" You gasp, dragging in a lungful of air that he'd practically stolen from you with the kiss. He's eager to touch you, to feel you, to taste you as his lips never part from your skin, dragging from your own to the spot just under your jaw that makes your stomach tingly.
"You're- Ah, you're supposed to wait for the chocolate to kick in," You pant, hands slowly, subconsciously curling into his shirt as he sucks at your neck, "We're supposed to, like, see how long we can hold off."
"No fun in that," Bradley shrugs, "I already wanted to fuck when I got home from my run."
"You-" You laugh, breath hitched when his tongue comes out to lick over the skin that his teeth had just nipped at, "You're insatiable, Brad."
"How'm I supposed to keep my hands off of you, hm?" He hums, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. He sucks a patch of skin just to the left of your throat, one that makes your fist clench hard in his sweat soaked running shirt, "So fuckin' sexy, don't need a chocolate to think that."
"But- but we should wait!" You urge, wishing his hair was just the tiniest bit longer so you could tug on it to separate his lips from your neck, "Just to see how- ah!" He nips at your skin again, and a fire burns through your veins that's hard to ignore. It pulls you in, burns from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head, and makes you want to melt into his arms. But the taste of chocolate on your tongue makes you reconsider, and you wrestle yourself out of Bradley's arms.
"No," You pant, eyeing him warily as he watches you, "No, we have to see how long we can wait. Trust me, Brad, it'll make it so much better."
"I want you now," He whines, reminiscent of a kid denied a cookie before dinner. His tone helps tamp down some of the arousal that had risen briefly in your belly, and you take his hand. It's rough from work, calloused and strong. It curls around yours and you lead him to your bedroom, letting him perch on the bed while you unbutton your jean shorts.
Bradley's mouth falls open and he scoffs, "Babe! Don't tease me, how am I supposed to hold out now?"
"You'll be fine," You wave off his concerns, stripping out of your shirt next. It leaves you in a bra and panties you’d specifically chosen for their sex appeal, powder pink and lacy. They’re Bradley’s second favorite, behind only the navy blue set on the drying rack. But you’d used it last night, and you don’t want things to get boring.
“Fuck,” he huffs, flopping back onto the bed. His tanned skin is a stark contrast from the crisp, white bedsheets, only fresh and clean because you’d changed them last night. He watches as you strip yourself of the sheer chain he'd bought you three months ago, for your second anniversary, your initials and his dangling from the silver. The first night you'd had it, he'd torn it off of you during sex, and it had ruined the mood completely. One trip to the garage for some pliers had seen it back on your neck good as new, but you're not taking any chances this time.
"Good idea," He grins lazily, eyes meeting your own for only a split second before they trace your exposed body. He reaches out for your hip when you make for the bed but you jolt out of his reach, hands firmly placed on your hips.
"Bradley Bradshaw," You huff, "No touching! Not yet, you have to really wait until you can't take it anymore."
"I can't! I can't take it anymore," He insists, groaning low and raspy in his throat, "Babe, on a normal day, seeing you in that would get me going. But now you've just given me sex-drugged chocolate? How much longer am I supposed to wait?"
"As long as you can," You grin, something evil in the expression as you flop down onto your stomach beside him with a novel, "'Then we'll jump each other."
Bradley muffles another groan, this time with an arm over his face. When he removes it he reaches for the hemline of his own shirt, "Fine. But I'm stripping too, see how long you can resist me."
"Perfect," You hum, already cracking the spine to resume your place on page 235. You won't give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, even if you're having an incredibly hard time focusing on your book right now instead of looking over when you hear the zipper of his jeans.
He eases back into the mattress with yet another groan, the sound bordering on pornographic enough to stir something beneath your stomach. It's the sound he makes when you snake a hand south and squeeze at his half-hard bulge, whether it be an invitation to the bar bathroom or a suggestion after movie night. You think about the way he feels against your hand, thick and straining against his pants, and-
"You're bending that book," Bradley drawls, peering sideways at you, "Thinking about anything in particular?"
It's true, your hand is crumpling the spine and pages up like scrap paper. You quickly smooth it out, lamenting the wrinkles forever etched into the story. Maybe they'll become fond memories, depending on how explosive the sex is tonight.
'No." You grumble, refusing to glance at his sprawled out, near-naked form, "Mind your business."
“Testy,” he laughs, no doubt teasing you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking of, “Alright, babe, enjoy your book.”
Bradley sticks to the agreement and leaves you well enough alone, choosing to scroll on his phone rather than stare at you. You get into the zone of reading, but part of your mind is always on the slight buzz you feel between your thighs. It’s been there since the first kiss Bradley had trapped you in back at the table, and it hasn’t gone away since.
Your reading material isn’t helping. The characters, a soon-to-be-couple currently rivals on the swim team, are currently having a late night jacuzzi rendezvous. It's hot, steamy, and everything you want from Bradley.
You pray that he doesn't notice the clench of your thighs as you read on, trying to envision yourself in their current position. He's got her backed up against the wall of the jacuzzi, and every description of the noises he's making has you wanting to squirm in place for some sort of friction. He tilts her chin upwards with one thumb until she's looking back at him, reaches for her lips, and-
Bradley's hand smooths over the back of your thigh.
"Bradley," You warn, but he's two steps ahead of you.
"Relax, angel." He croons, the natural rasp in his voice sending heat straight south, "You just look a little tense. I was gonna give you a massage."
It's a game of chicken, a word Rooster doesn't like hearing because of the way Hangman uses it as a nickname for him. But you're not losing, so when his rough, large hands slide up your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your panties, you breathe deeply before turning back to your book.
He gives you a few moments of silence, and they're anything but comfortable. Tension is thrumming through every vein in your body, concentrated in handprint shapes wherever Bradley's palms press to your skin. He stays true to his word and massages your thighs, but his thumbs edge up the curve of your ass, closer to their target than he knows they should be.
His fingers knead and squeeze at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, paying special attention to the hypersensitive skin between your cunt and your thighs. When he ghosts his fingernail over the crease there and you clench your thighs together, he knows he's got you.
"What'cha reading?" He plays dumb, leaning over your shoulders while holding your ass steady, "Woah."
"Shut up," You huff, "Stop teasing me."
"I'm not teasing!" He insists, with a squeeze to your ass that proves the opposite, "I'm just curious, and then I look over your shoulder and see that."
"What," You scoff, "What's so shocking to you?"
"His broad form looms over her own smaller one," Bradley reads, voice deep and raspy where he's leaning over you. His voice is just beside your ear, and you feel his breath against your skin as he continues, "-muscles in his arms on full display despite the near-scalding water lapping over them. He cages her in his embrace, no escape possible even if she wanted one. But she doesn't, not as his large, rough thumb comes down to nudge at her puffy, sensitive clit beneath the water. The fabric of her bathing suit presents a delicious friction, and her hips jolt into his hand with a shockwave of ecstasy."
He comes to an abrupt stop, satisfied that your cheeks are burning hot, and your core is probably similar. He waits for your reply, and when it comes in a shaky, ‘so what?’, he tightens his grip on your hip ever so slightly.
“You think that would feel nice?” He asks, and if he purposefully strains the muscles in his arm where he plants his hand by your head, he hopes you don’t notice. His other hand snakes beneath your front, pinned between your waist and the mattress as he finds your clit with experienced ease.
“Like this?” He thumbs at the sensitive bundle of nerves, and your hips buck like they’re scripted to, “That feels good?”
“Bradley,” You’re barely able to whimper, chocolate definitely taking its toll as your insides writhe with flames.
He takes your whine as an admission, shutting your book carelessly and nipping at your earlobe as he pulls his hands back to your hips, “Roll over.”
“Brad,” You start, but he flips you himself.
“Roll over,” He gushes, and the second your lips are in his line of sight, he’s on them. His own press enthusiastically to yours, a heavy pant released into your mouth as he braces his knees on the mattress.
“I cant fucking take it anymore,” He groans, choking out his words between kiss after kiss pressed to your mouth. His tongue is sloppy, licking up your own like he's trying to swallow it.
He's tasting chocolate on your tongue and you're tasting some on his, a sweet flavor that only reminds you of the intense burning sensation between your legs.
"Laying there," He rasps, dragging in breath after breath that he later spends sucking your lips between his own, "Ass up in those pretty panties. You know I've got a thing for your ass. Mmf- and," He breathes, hand trailing up your waist, "-your stomach. And your tits," He squeezes them through the sheer pads of your bra, "Fuckin' love your tits."
His knees are holding up up on the mattress, and he's plants one of his hands beside your head, just in the dip between your neck and shoulder. He stretches it, nudges his thumb against your jaw and prompts you to open your mouth. When you do, he leans down, capturing your lips in another steamy kiss. You're having trouble focusing on one thing at a time, what with his tongue lapping sensually at your own in smooth, eager strokes. Then his hand, fingers rough and heavy as they pinch unforgivingly at your stiff nipple beneath the fabric of your bra. When you jolt into his touch, your hips buck with the motion, and you feel the hard press of his arousal against your eager core.
Bradley hums approvingly into the kiss, parting with a sloppy trail of saliva and speaking hotly against your lips. "Needy, hm? Gonna grind your sweet pussy all over me?
"Yeah," You breathe, and without the press of his lips to yours, your head tips back, exposing your neck for Bradley to fixate on next, "I need- Oh, Bradley, I need you to fuck me! I need you to fuck me so bad!"
"I thought you wanted to wait," He goads, his mustache grating against the sensitive, thin skin of your neck, "I thought you wanted to see how long you could take it."
"I did! And I can't-" You choke on your words, the sound coming out more of a moan as he sucks harshly, wetly at the skin of your neck, "I can't take it anymore! Fuck me!"
You accentuate your words with another desperate roll of your hips, grinding your clothed cunt over Bradley's bulge. He's straining in the loose fabric of his boxers, a fact that makes your mouth water, and Bradley tears himself away from your neck to wrestle with his undergarments.
"Hang on, sweet thing," He hums, in response to a disgruntled whimper of yours. He knows you're aching, burning with desire, because he is, too. His cock bounces free of his boxers and stands hard, angled towards his stomach and oozing pre. It's the most mouth-watering sight you've ever taken in, and your tingling cunt drools a gush of slick against the fabric of your panties.
It's a struggle to get his boxers off, and it almost looks silly as he wrestles them off from around his ankles. But it keeps you waiting, lets that desire burn just a little longer in your stomach before it's extinguished, and as much as you're yearning for relief, it feels good to prolong your pleasure.
"Okay, I- oh, fuck," Bradley hisses, his thumb against the pad of your panties as his fingers slip beneath the hemline. He feels slick soak through the fabric at the slightest pressure from his single finger, reveling in just how wet you've gotten while waiting for him.
"You're- god, you're dripping," Bradley groans, the sound thick and lustful as his face screws up in concentration, "I just- I- I want to-" He gives into his urges without even explaining them, dipping down to stick his face in your cunt like a man starved. He pants into your pussy, conflicted on whether he should suck more slick out of your eager sex or take a breath. He does a healthy balance of both, if maybe a little lacking in the oxygen department. He doesn't seem to care that he's being suffocated, though, and he tucks his face further into your cunt than seems humanly possible.
His tongue writhes skillfully through you, in and out of your needy hole, against the underside of your clit, against the rarely-caressed skin between your thighs and cunt. He's a messy eater, slick smeared over the lower half of his face, even glistening in his mustache.
"Aah, baby," You gasp, face pinched in half ecstasy, half apprehension as he sucks at your clit, "No, don't- I'm gonna cum!"
"Do it," He urges, tongue licking a long, wet, slick stripe up your cunt before delving back between your folds, "I want to, mmf- feel you cum on my face, baby. Do it, give it to me, I wanna feel your cunt suck me the fuck in."
"No, but-" You reach for his face, sitting up in your pleasured haze, "I want- I want you inside of me when I cum! Please, Brad, I need your- ah! -need your dick!"
"You can have it," He promises, fingers coming to bully your puffy clit while he focuses his tongue on your sopping cunt, "Later. Cum, baby, give it to me."
He's speaking harshly, and his tongue reflects that in the sturdy, rough way that he licks you out. It's akin to the way he kisses, and you suppose he's making out with your sloppy pussy the way that he's tonguing it now. And it works, his insistence, the sting of his mustache on the most sensitive parts of your body, the ever-present pressure against your clit, you feel white hot, blinding pleasure roll over your lower half like a wave of fire.
"Ah- oh god, Bradley," You grunt, voice tapering off into a whine, "-BradleyBradleyBradleyBradley-!"
"Come on," He mumbles, lips barely able to form words around your slick-soaked cunt. He talks you through your orgasm, perhaps less gentle than a reassuring 'good, you're doing so well for me,', but arousing just the same in its gruff demand.
Bradley might be making more noise than you. While you're cumming with various whimpers, moans, groans, and everything in between, he's licking it out of you with lust-filled songs of praise. Every vibration of his vocal chords flows straight south, humming through your trembling cunt as you cum onto his tongue.
He's eager to continue even when you're finished, licking and sucking desperately at your sensitive pussy. It feels good, but you're almost too sensitive already, and you're not waiting another second for his cock.
"No, no-" You reach for his hair, using gentle handfuls of the stuff to guide his face out of your cunt, "No, Brad, I want- mmf!"
He doesn't let you tell him what you want; he doesn't have to, he already knows. He knows what you really want is between his legs, so rather than give you the breath to explain it to him, he surges forwards, knocking his lips into yours and using the momentum to lay you back down onto the mattress.
"Shit," You breathe, feeling his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt immediately, "I- Bradley, I- oh!"
He slams into you with no hesitation, hips on a mission to fuse with your own as he rams his cock into you. It's relentless, more desperate than you've ever felt him before, and you clutch at his broad shoulders as he buries his face in your shoulder.
"Holy shit!" He huffs, a grunting, groaning mess, "I- Jesus, angel, you feel so good, I can't- nngh! I can't get enough. Oh god," He pants, mouth falling open and tongue flattening against your neck, swiping up over your jaw. His mouth latches there, sucking harshly just beneath your ear at the curve of your jaw. His hips drive the same steady pace into you, filling you up impossibly deep with each pump of his cock. It's mind-numbingly hard, probably achingly painful to Bradley, and he buries it inside of you to get relief. The more he thrusts the deeper he goes, until he's slamming into your sweet spot with superhuman fervor. It's like he's chasing something, balls landing heavy against the curve of your ass as he fucks into you.
"Bradley," You moan, nails scraping against the tan, toned skin of his back, "Baby, ah-! Oh my god, keep- keep going!"
"I'm close," He grunts, voice muffled slightly in what you suspect is shame. His libido is strong, and he doesn't usually finish out this fast. But the chocolate counts for something, and he'd spent who knows how many minutes with his face buried inside your cunt with no relief down south. You're not surprised he's cumming quickly, nor are you put off by it.
In fact, you're aroused by it. The feeling of Bradley fucking into you so eagerly, so roughly, so needy; it gets you going. You feel another wave of pleasure begin lapping at your underbelly, maybe easier to rise this time because of the swell of the last one. The constant motion of Bradley's thick cock can't be doing any harm, either, and with every flex of his tongue over your neck as he sucks bruises into your skin, you feel your orgasm approaching.
Apparently, the way that your nails dig into Bradley's skin is encouragement for him, as well. Your thighs tremble from the weight of your previous orgasm, and the impending pressure of your next one, and Bradley's dick twitches like it's painful for him to keep it together.
"S'okay, Brad," You pant, scraping a hand up his back to cradle the back of his neck. He's still suckling on your neck, tongue and teeth working in tandem to mar your skin with marks, "S'okay, cum, honey. Feels so good, you- ooh, you feel so fucking good!"
Your encouragement helps, and his dick twitches again. You tug on his hair, and his thighs tense. But what really does it is the way you yank his head back with your fistful or his hair, pulling him out of your neck to kiss him and inviting him to occupy his tongue with your own instead of your throat.
The second your tongue brushes against his own, he cums. It's like a dam bursting, every ounce of arousal he'd tried holding in and prolonging bursting forth from his cockhead straight into your leaking cunt. You're already slick enough from all of your own release, but his gushes from the seam between his cock and your cunt, stretched and fucked dumb.
"Oh, oh my god," Bradley pants, the words flowing directly between your lips as he mouths at your tongue. He's desperate to do something with his mouth, he always has been, and it's no surprise that he'd taken time to appreciate your cunt earlier. He licks over your tongue, his own tucking to the inside of your cheek for a brief second before he sucks at yours again. It only makes your own arousal more intense, and before you know it, your second, possibly more intense orgasm is seizing you, tensing your muscles and spasming through you.
He cums for a long time, dick twitching and spurting cum the more he makes out with you, and the more your cunt convulses around him in your own orgasm. Your kiss is sloppy, it's messy, there's drool leaking down the corners of your mouth, and that's what makes it so effective to stretch out his orgasm. When you're both sure you couldn't cum more if you tried, he slumps over your chest, his full weight on you as he lays panting on your sweaty skin.
"Jesus Christ," He groans, voice broken and raspy with strain, "That- that was- fuck, the best sex we've ever had."
"Mm-hm," You nod lazily, enjoying a rare moment of breathing freely, "Yeah, we- we need to use those chocolates again."
"Yeah," He agrees emphatically, his mustache prickling against the skin at the slope of your breast, "I didn't think it would work. Not like that, Christ."
"I'm glad it did," You muse, and you feel Bradley shift against your thigh, his cock already half-stiff again. He grinds it into you, what you think is accidentally, but his groan lets you know it felt nice.
"Baby," You start, but he's already rubbing up against you once more, humping his hardening cock against your thigh.
"I need- I just need a little more," He almost whimpers, tightening his hold on your upper half, "Babe, I need- more, please!"
"Okay," You soothe, kissing his sweaty forehead, "Okay, here."
You reach down, hand at your side to feel for his cock. It's not hard to find, hot and heavy where he's bucking it against your thigh. You wrap your palm around the shaft, your thumb nudging up against the tip. You flatten your finger against his slit, pumping your hand up the length when it makes him jolt. He keeps his face buried in your chest, drool seeping from his lips and dripping down your breast. You feel it trickle over your nipple, sending a chill up your spine as it cools on your skin.
"Oh my god," He moans, lips desperately roving your skin until they find your nipple. He latches onto it, lips pursed and tongue relentlessly swirling over the stiffened bud. He keeps bucking his hips into your hand, though you're moving your fist to meet him. Remnants of his first orgasm and your second are slicked all up his shaft, and it's adequate lube as you stroke him towards another release.
Bradley's teeth pinch momentarily at your nipple, a sensation that makes you jolt. In doing so, you squeeze his cock slightly, your thumb pressing hard into his slit.
"Fuck!" He gasps, lips parting only to get the word out before wrapping around your nipple once more. Now that he knows what you're sensitive to at the moment he's merciless, nipping and biting and tugging at your tit with his teeth.
You're fucked out beyond belief, but Bradley's dick is practically pulsing in your grip, and the more tense his thighs get, the more restless he is on your tit.
Finally, he breaks away with a breath, "Wait! Wait, I wanna cum on your- in your mouth, babe."
"Okay." You pant, instantly on board, "Here, sit up, and I'll-"
You make to do the same, trying to struggle off of the pillow to prop yourself up against the headboard. But he holds you down with one strong hand, straddling your face instead. His cock hangs thick and heavy between his thighs, an easy reach for you. All you have to do is stick your tongue out and you can lick over half of it, something that makes him buck forwards into your mouth.
You gag slightly as the tip of his cock hits your throat, and he lets out a strangled grunt that tries turning into a whimper at the end. It's a flattering sound, encouraging you to wrap your lips around him and bob your head up and down as best you can while laying down.
it takes only a few sloppy strokes to the base of his cock and a gentle massage to his balls to get him to cum a second time, and you wish you had more time to appreciate the way his thick, toned thighs frame your head. They're nearly suffocating you, tan hunks of flesh and muscle, and want to bite them. You refrain, focusing on tonguing the slit of his cock so that he cums into your mouth.
"Holy shit!" He breathes, tone incredulous as he fucks down your throat, "Yeah, yeah- oh my god, babe, keep sucking, mmf- yeah!"
His cum spurts warm and plentiful over your tongue, something you're grateful for even if you almost choke on it. He pulls himself out of you to give you room to swallow, stroking himself through his orgasm, and he doesn't comment on the weak cough you give when struggling to swallow the cum pooling in your mouth. A drop lands on your lower lip, and you're eager to lick it away once you've finished your mouthful.
Bradley's looming over you now, breathing heavy and still straddling your face. You can't help but turn your head to kiss at his thigh, nipping softly at the muscle there and eliciting a gentle yelp from him.
"Easy," He laughs breathlessly, stroking your cheek, "I can't take any more. Jesus, I'm- I'm fucked out, babe."
"Me too," You agree, breathing equally heavily, "Brad, gimme my phone, I wanna do the- the trend thing."
He might not understand, but he complies. He dismounts from the mattress, thighs sadly no longer caging your head between them, and hands you your phone that's charging on the nightstand.
You cover yourself with the bedsheets while Bradley slips his boxers back on, and he comes when you beckon him to get in frame of the camera beside you. You're both the picture of fucked out, sweaty, panting, swollen lips and glazed-over eyes. You hit record, voice raspy when you speak: "Those chocolate things, they- they work good."
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feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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tastesousweet · 14 days
Text
⭒ blurb : “if a girl walks up to you …”
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bf!hamzah x poc!reader
summary : headcannon/blurb based on the tiktok trend “if a girl walks up to you and flirts what are you doing?”
mickey speaks : randomly had this thought tdy & hamzah has been on my mind lately soooo this one’s for my slushy girls 💐 PRETTY FLUFFY (but i hope it’s not like … cringy instead of cute)
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you’re both fully in pajamas, tucked and wrapped in each other’s arms when you come across the tiktok trend that has flooded your for you page as of late
hamzah’s naturally aloof (due to a long day spent with you and it currently being almost 1 AM) and unfocused as he fights sleep while watching his tenth episode of teen titans.
so when you quickly unravel yourself from him and move across the room, adjusting your low hanging sweatpants accordingly, he’s dumbfounded and asking you what you’re doing and why you’re leaving him.
“you’re so dramatic, can you come here? i wanna do something”
“insulting me and asking a favor in the same sentence…” he sighs then pauses with a hand closed over his mouth, muffling “wow.”
literally and metaphorically tugging his arm to get him to participate but he’s adamant on knowing what exactly he’s getting up for
when he’s almost out of bed you tell him it’s “this tiktok thing” and he exaggerates a “NOOOO” and releases all of his weight so that he falls back on the bed and you practically fall with him due to your connected hands
of course he’s eventually convinced with a few kisses
hamzah fiddles with your hand while listening to you explain: “okay, pretend im not here and some girl comes up to you at target.”
he just stands in the center of the frame looking around the room as you walk away then return in character
you approach obnoxiously and begin some surface level flirting “hey good looking”
“you can back up a little bit,” he looks you up and down
“pause- did you just check her out???”
“no? you know there was definitely some judgement there.”
“sure ok, resume… now.” you play with your hair, “what’s someone as cute as you doing in a place like this?”
“bruh, we’re at a target” hamzah laughs through his words
you stop your role again, “and why are you taking time to respond to her?!”
“oh kill me for being distracted! you couldn’t have hired an ugly actress?”
you look up at him with squinted eyes, “you need to learn to resist the hot girls too!”
“i’m tryingggg!!!!” he rubs his eye harshly, “restart, restart.”
it cuts to a clip of you two acting once more
“yeah, we both loooveee target we’re, like, so alike,” you go to grab his arm and he turns completely away from you
“ok, and i have a girlfriend” he pretends to grab something off of a shelf
“that doesn’t matter if i don’t see her…”
you continue pestering so he resorts to plugging his ears with his fingers and talking over you, repeating that he has a girlfriend
eventually he turns back to face you and yells “OH MY GOD GIRL, I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!!!!” right into your smiley face.
he then fully manhandles you over his shoulder and spins you around before dropping you onto the plushness of your shared bed
he doesn’t even look to check on you (you’re outrageously laughing and yelling “it hurts!” in regards to your poor stomach cramping)
he runs to grab your phone from the desk while recording himself in faux panic, “guys, you can’t tell y/n i just beat up a woman please, please, pl- AHHH”
he and the video are cut off by you jumping on his back and attacking his cheek with kisses through your loud giggles.
you cuddle in bed again after turning off the lights and hamzah rewatches it for a third time since you’ve posted it to your spam account (everytime it’s over he says, “no, that was actually pretty funny.”)
by the morning it has thousands of likes and plenty of comments either full of love for the two of you together or calling hamzah the funniest man in the world (they’re just like u fr!)
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olderthannetfic · 25 days
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/746553097204203521/the-fandom-hates-women-response-to-lack-of-ff
The "fandom hates women" part of it comes from the fact that fandom as an entity just doesn't watch the kind of media that draws femslash, even if it ticks all of the boxes of things those very same people say they like. There are so many times I've watched a show that I've seen mega-popular Tumblr posts wishing existed, and then the fandom is so, so small comparatively and often in general. There have been superheroes, vampire/supernatural shows, fantasy shows, movies, books, the list goes on, that feel like they were generated out of Tumblr's desires for ideal fandom media, and everyone knows they're never going to attract anywhere near the same attention for fandom and fanworks because the common denominator just tends to be that if there isn't a full ensemble of attractive men to ship either with each other or with the women, fandom's not interested.
So it's not about prioritizing women in that sense, it's about people witnessing hypocrisy over and over again the second a show doesn't have a mostly-male ensemble. The people who are in these fandoms are frustrated that good faith attempts to get people interested are met with every excuse in the book that all eventually boils down to "I don't like watching stuff with women in it as much as I like watching stuff with men in it." And if that's how people feel about it... sometimes the conclusions are going to turn into the more uncharitable take of "fandom hates women."
--
Maybe, but whenever I see a "fandom hates women" reblog of my stuff, one or two reblogs further down the chain I get an overt TERF. I just had to go block several people today, in fact.
The first person to reblog with a comment like that is usually subtle, but their friends and friends of friends are not. The rhetoric that very quickly starts is the fandom equivalent of that "All the butches are becoming trans men! We're losing lesbians!" stuff.
Here's the thing: I've been in ten billion fandoms that were so awesome and fit fandom's supposed tastes to a T and yet no amount of promoting them could get anyone to try the canon. This goes for canons that are all men or all white men or all majority ethnicity men or whatever else.
The default state of media is to not engender a big fic fandom.
I agree that the rare outliers mostly follow certain patterns, but we extrapolate too far when we say that a lack of those patterns is why a fandom is small.
A fandom is small because that's the near-universal default.
--
Yes, a small slice of fandom consists of guilt-ridden queer fujoshi who say they want more f/f but don't make much of a move to make that happen. I tend to run into that a lot because of my own tastes and having friends who share those tastes.
Far more of fandom is people talking generally about how representation matters without saying they would personally join these fandoms if they existed.
Neither group is large enough to be the real reason some woman-heavy canon fails to take off to HP levels.
The real reason is not hypocrisy but the fact that most things don't take off like that. Most things without massive, massive audiences especially don't take off like that. And the very few things that do are flukes and don't actually predict that another similar thing will take off in the future.
--
Go to AO3's tag search. Search for all canonical fandom tags. Sort by uses and descending order.
Right now, I get 64,390 tags.
The first page, 50 tags, goes from HP with 497,845 works to the Thor movies with 59,266 works. By page 6, we're below 10 thousand works.
By the end of page 10, we're down to Labyrinth with 3,906.
Somewhere in the top 500 AO3 fandom tags (many of which are just franchise metatags for each other), we go all the way from megafandoms to medium size and down to relatively modest ones.
That's not a lot of room for a big f/f-heavy fandom given the trends in mainstream media and that mainstream media is where most really big fandoms come from.
--
I also notice that you're conflating a lack of desire to watch something that's primarily about women with a lack of desire to watch something that includes women.
There are tons of fans who want something more like The Mummy with a leading man and leading woman they love.
Granted, that's not me and that's not a lot of my fujoshi/slasher audience, but it's extraordinarily common. I know plenty of people who don't like canons that are only dudes, but since they also don't like canons that are only ladies and they don't ship f/f, this gets spun into "fandom hates women".
--
Let me be clear:
Conflating "lesbians" and "women" is a radfem position.
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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months
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Beyond Apperances ~ LF
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WORD COUNT: 1.7K
GENRE: established relationships, comfort fic, Felix comforting reader who is feeling a little insecure, mentions of feeling ugly,
PAIRING: Felix X Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
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In the serene atmosphere of the University library, you find yourself nested among rows and rows of bookshelves scrolling through your phone trying not to let the tears you were holding back go.
Lately, there have been some dumb trends going around on the internet of transformation videos of people going from "ugly" to "gorgeous", from "ugly duckling" to "swan" and your phone was being bombarded with them. Which wouldn't be an issue if it wasn't making you feel so shitty or it. There was one common theme in all of the transformations you were being shown and that was-
Glasses coming off, and their hair being down or styled a different way and instantly your heart sunk every time you watched someone transform like that. The first part of the videos was how you dressed, glasses were always perched on your nose, and your hair was always styled in an updo, not because it was easy but it was because you'd always been comfortable that way. That and it always seemed to frame your face better if you wore your hair that way, something you had always seen as beautiful to you but now you weren't so sure.
The longer you scrolled through the trend the more you began to wish you could see yourself through the lens of the transformations, to shed your glasses and change your hair just so you could be seen as conventionally beautiful. But every time you'd tried to picture yourself like that, you felt guilt and betrayal toward your own identity. 
Sighing to yourself you put your phone down on the table and laid your head down on your book, you needed time away from social media and everything about that dumb trend.
"I bought us both hot chocolates, I also got us some baked goods and a packet of sweets because I figured we would...need..." Felix's voice trailed to a stop as he found you sitting with your head on your book.
"Yn are you okay?" He sat down across from you, the two of you were supposed to be working on a project together but he could already sense that something was wrong and he was going to do anything to make it better.
"I'm fine," You lied, lifting your head up and carefully taking the hot chocolate your boyfriend had gotten for you. Felix narrowed his eyes at you, he knew you were lying but he didn't want to push you too hard when he knew you would come to him when the timing was right. 
"Okay, well. I highlighted everything I thought was important to the presentation, I think if we can add in a little flare we can win over our professor," Felix continued to talk about the presentation the two of you were supposed to be working on but your eyes had travelled behind him when you saw Kathrine Webber.
She was one of the prettiest girls in the school and she'd been one of the ones to bring the trend to life you couldn't help but feel jealous of her as you watched her closely. Her long black hair was curled and styled down her chest, she wore light makeup and looked as though she'd stepped right off the pages of a magazine.
"Yn...Are you listening?" Felix asked, snapping your attention back to him as you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat,
"Actually, I think I just need some fresh air," You said, your voice coming out a tad shaky.
"But-"
"I'm not feeling great, I'll work on the project at home," Without even giving Felix a chance to say anything you got up, dragging your bag and practically sprinting out of the library so fast you'd left behind a cloud of smoke. But you couldn't stay there, there was no way you were able to do it not with everything going on in your head.
As you walked home you couldn't help your mind going back to the videos you'd been seeing and feeling the doubt creep back over you. You hadn't been insecure about your glasses since you were in primary school when all the kids teased you for it.
Your glasses had been a constant companion since you were a child, a necessity since you'd been born with nearsightedness and you'd grown accustomed to them over the years. But you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that they were now, somehow, detracted from your beauty. Was it really that awful to wear glasses?
In this day and age everything was accepted and thought of as beautiful so why was this trend so damn popular. Inadequacy began to gnaw at you from the inside, doubts flooded your mind as you thought back on the videos. Would Felix love you more if you suddenly wore your hair differently or took off your glasses? Would you finally get seen as "beautiful" in the eyes of society? 
As you lay in bed that night, your thoughts began to swirl deeper with insecurities and you couldn't help but wonder if you were ever able to see yourself as beautiful.
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Anxiety bloomed inside of your chest as you walked through the halls of your university and you could have sworn people were beginning to stare at you which made you more nervous about what you'd done.
All weekend you'd spent your time getting ready to transform yourself, you'd invested in some contact lenses, gotten your hair done and you had felt confident until people were staring at you. The was now doubt nagging at you as you walked through the halls, was this who you were supposed to be?
Completely lost in your thoughts, you barely even noticed as Alex walked toward you, 
"Whoa." He breathed, his voice filled with genuine admiration as you smiled at him, your cheeks beginning to burn.
"You look...incredible," You'd been hoping for his approval but the intensity of his reaction was taking you by surprise. Was this what he wanted you to look like?
"Thanks...I wanted to try something different, to see if I could change." You admit, your voice barely coming out above a whisper. Felix stepped closer, his gaze never wavering from yours,
"You look so beautiful," A pang of uneasiness filled you, and tears began to build up as you stared at him. This whole thing had been a mistake and you suddenly felt sick,
"Do you prefer me like this?" Your voice broke as you stared at him, waiting for him to say something but he was completely taken aback as he stared at you,
"What?" He chuckled nervously, Wondering what you were talking about.
"With my hair different and my glasses gone...Do I look better?" He could see the way your mind was ticking and he shook his head at you,
"Yn." He started but you shook your head, stuttering a little as you took a step back from him. Suddenly it felt as though the walls were closing in on you and you needed to get out of there, to go home and change again.
"I have to go," You whispered, taking off but this time Felix was behind you, running after you as you hid in the library. 
Slowly Felix walked up at you, you were staring up at the ceiling trying not to let the tears flow freely.
"Yn..." He trailed off, his hand gently rubbing your back as you sniffled a little.
"Tell me what's going on baby, or I can't help," You nodded a little, swallowing the lump that was in your throat. You hesitated for a moment before pouring out everything you'd been thinking about to Felix - your insecurities about your appearance, the longer to see yourself as beautiful without conforming to society's standards and your fear that you'd never measure up to images you saw online.
Felix listened intently the whole time, his heart breaking at the sight of you being so vulnerable, he reached out gently and wiped the tear off your cheek.
"Yn, look at me." He said,his voice stern but soft all at the same time.
"You're beautiful just the way you are...Your intelligence, your kindness your strength- those are things that make you truly stunning," He breathed out as you stared at him.
"But what about my glasses? My hair?" You mumbled a little, your head looking down at the floor until Felix tilted you back to look at him,
"Your glasses are a part of who you are, just like your hair being styled up. They're not something you should hide or even be ashamed of...They're part of what makes you unique and what makes you, you." He smiled warmly at you, your chest squeezing tightly as you felt peace settling over you.
"You're beautiful now but you're even more beautiful than before," He smiled at you, reaching into his bag and finding the spare pair of glasses he kept around for you.
"I have your spares if you wanna change the contacts," He offered your head slowly nodding as you carefully took out the contacts that had been irritating you all morning.
"They're annoying anyway," You mumbled, throwing them into a nearby bin and putting on your glasses again, earning a giant grin from your boyfriend.
At that moment you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, Felix wrapped his arms around you bringing you into a tight embrace. 
"You know you can be anything you want to be, but Yn...Never forget you're already perfect just the way you are..." He smiled at you, kissing your temple softly.
"Beauty isn't defined by appearance, it's defined by the kindness in your heart, the intelligence in your mind and the love you give to everyone," Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you gazed up at Felix, your arms wrapping around him tightly.
"Thank you...For always seeing me, loving me and seeing me for who I am." You sniffled as he kissed the top of your head.
"I love you," He told you, looking up at the clock and smirking.
"How about we skip and just go get snacks...We can watch cheesy films all day." He suggested as you snuggled closer to him,
"Sounds perfect to me." You breathed out, the two of you walking out of the library and in the direction of the exit.
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justagalwhowrites · 2 months
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TikTok Trend
Beautiful decides to take part in a TikTok Trend with Joel. A New in Town drabble.
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^We're borrowing Mr. Ben for a late-40s Joel, OK? I desperately need more gifs of Pedro's Joel from that era, I'm too reliant on other characters and actual Pedro gifs for these fics GIVE ME SOMETHING PLEASE
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from New in Town
Warnings: Not much! Age gap but not the focus of the fic (reader is 36, Joel is 48). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.
Length: 1.4k
A/N: I got stuck thinking earlier how Joel would react to the "call your boyfriend your husband" trend and this is how I think it'd go. This is set about 3 months before the last chapter of New in Town. This can be read as a stand alone fic with the understanding that reader is Sarah's best friend and Joel and Reader have an established relationship of about a year.
“So what’s this for again?” Joel asked as he sat down at the picnic table in the park. 
“It’s a TikTok challenge,” you said, settling in beside him. Joel opened the paper bag the two of you had just gotten from a food truck and started taking out the tacos, putting some in front of you and him. 
“Right,” he said. “And… I’m sorry, baby, but what’s the point?” 
You laughed as you set your phone against your water bottle so it was propped up and ready to film. 
“There isn’t really one, I guess,” you said. “It’s just a fun little video you make and then share. Those interns I have until May are all about it, they were showing me some of theirs the other day. Figure if I work in marketing, I gotta keep up with the trends!” 
Joel smiled a little. 
“So this is the kind of shit Sarah does, huh?” 
“Yeah, she does,” you laughed again. “Her and the interns made one for the company social page the other day, actually.” 
“Can I see?” He asked, interest suddenly piqued. 
“Sure,” you picked your phone back up and found your company’s TikTok, scrolling to the video and handing it off to Joel. 
“We work in marketing, of course we over analyze every ad we see,” Sarah said through your phone, a small smile on Joel’s face as he watched. 
It made you smile, too. One of the fun parts about being in the strange middle ground between your boyfriend’s and best friend’s ages was serving as a bit of a translator between them. Joel still didn’t quite get TikTok. Sarah didn’t understand why her dad refused to go all in on streaming and still had cable. You, at least, could see both sides. 
But this TikTok effort had nothing to do with Sarah. You did try to keep up with the trends on social media to better craft campaigns and content - capitalizing on trends meant that you had to move quick and you couldn’t afford to be out of touch - but your personal TikTok account was mostly empty. It was pretty private, anyway, shared with only a few close friends like Sarah and Maria. All it had were a few reposts of things you liked, some montages of video snippets from you and Joel’s first vacation together, that sort of thing. 
“You should do some of the trends!” Jason, one of your interns, said earlier that day. 
“Just being in the loop on trends is plenty for me,” you waved him off but smiled. “I don’t need to participate.” 
“But it’s fun!” Kenzie, your other intern said. “They’re not all dances and stuff, you know…” 
“I know,” you said. “But it’s just not what I want to spend a lot of time doing is all.” 
“Some don’t take much time,” she said, opening her phone and scrolling for a second. “Here, this one’s easy. You said you have a boyfriend, right?” 
“I do…” 
“Cool,” she said. “So all you do is record yourself making a video where you call your boyfriend your husband, just to see how he reacts. No crazy edits or anything, it’s super easy.” 
You caved after some light convincing and came up with a plan to get Joel in front of the camera. You told him it was a spicy food challenge, just to see which of you handled the heat better and, while you knew he wouldn’t really get the point, you knew he’d be supportive. He always was. 
But there was something about this trend in particular that made you a little nervous. It’s not like the two of you hadn’t discussed marriage. You’d been together a year now, you’d just moved into his house. It had definitely come up. But it had come up in the way that far off things do, something that might happen some day if things fell into place in just the right way. You didn’t want to push it, didn’t want him to feel rushed or obligated, especially since you’d only been cohabitating about a month. Bringing up marriage - even like this - made you nervous. 
“OK I think I get it,” Joel handed you your phone back after watching Sarah’s video twice. “But we’re not doin’ that same thing, right?” 
“Nope,” you said. “We’re going to see who handles the spice better.” 
“Think we both know which one of us is gonna win that one, Beautiful,” he teased, nuzzling his nose against your temple before kissing your cheek. “Us southern men are made of sterner stuff…” 
“Yeah yeah,” you rolled your eyes but smiled, leaning close to him. “We’ll just see about that.” 
You set your phone up to record again, propping it against your water bottle. 
“Here, you gotta get in close because the TikTok format is vertical,” you said and Joel adjusted so you were half beside and half in front of him, his arm going around your waist, hand finding your hip, thumb slipping up below your shirt to find your bare flesh above the band of your pants and brushing you slowly, sensually there. You gave him a look. 
“What?” He asked, brows raised, smile barely contained. 
“Don’t act all innocent,” you shook your head. “You know exactly what you’re doing…” 
“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s make your little TikTik video…” 
“TikTok,” you rolled your eyes but adjusted yourself, your heart pounding. 
“Whatever the kids are using now,” he said. “Because the sooner we’re done the sooner I can get you home…” 
“Alright, I’m going to record,” you cut him off. “Behave yourself!” 
“Always do, Beautiful.” 
You rolled your eyes again but took a deep breath, leaned forward and pressed record. 
“Hi everyone,” you smiled, watching the recording of you and Joel as it was made on the screen. “I’m here with my husband and we’re going to do the spicy food challenge…”
“Your what?” He cut you off and you turned so you could see him a little better. 
“What?” 
“Did…” he paused, looking at you like he wasn’t sure if you were losing it or he was. You weren’t sure if that was good or bad. “Did you just call me your husband?” 
“Yeah,” you shrugged, turning back to the camera. “Anyway, my husband and I both really love spicy food and…” 
You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Joel grabbed your chin almost roughly, pulling you around to face him and all but crushed his lips against yours, clutching you close, kissing you deep and hard, like he couldn’t get enough of you. When he finally let you go, you looked at him and laughed a little, watching him. 
“What was that for?” You asked. 
“You wanna call me your husband?” He asked, a serious look on his face. “Beautiful, we will go to the courthouse right this damn second, don’t tempt me…” 
“Joel, it’s 7 p.m.,” you laughed. “The courthouse is closed.” 
“Don’t care,” he said, giving you a quicker kiss this time. “C’mon, we’ll grab Sarah on the way, see if Tommy wants to meet us…” 
“That’s all it takes, hm?” You teased, heart pounding but for a good reason now. “Just me slipping up and calling you my husband and you’re ready to run down the aisle?” 
“Baby, I’ve been ready to run down the aisle for about a year,” he pressed his forehead to yours. “Just been waitin’ on you to catch up.” 
“Well,” you kissed him softly. “I’m more than caught up. But think I’m still gonna make you ask.” 
“Good luck stopping me,” he said, kissing you again, longer this time, needier, until you pulled away with a groan. “Forget this food challenge, I gotta get you home and devour you. Let’s go, wife.” 
You laughed and stopped the recording on your phone, saving the video to drafts as Joel gathered up the food. You made the mental note to edit out that last part before posting, no need for the interns or Sarah to know quite that much about your sex life. 
“Sorry for ruining your little video,” he said as you started back toward the car. “We can try again later, promise to actually behave myself then…” 
“That’s alright,” you smiled, lacing your fingers with his. “I already got everything I need.”
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hallietblr · 10 months
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same time, next week? | c.fisher x reader
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a/n: inspired by the tiktok trend! might MIGHT turn this into a mini trilogy but not too sure yet so let me know what you think!
warnings: fluffy but kinda sad:(
summer was quickly coming to an end, saying goodbye to a few of our new friends we made this summer as they return back to their home. cousins was always a place associated with fun and the carefree life. from waking up at dawn to catch the sunrise, being at the beach all day, family barbecues, parties every night, and to do it all with my best friends.
my mother, elisa, used to come to cousins every summer with her family and she immediately became friends with the girl next door, susannah, and her best friend, laurel. the three of them would always spend every moment of the three summer months together in cousins before leaving back to their normal lives.
cousins was almost like an alternate reality, where everyone is happy. where summer love is born and new friendships are made.
once my mom inherited her parents’ summer home, we started coming to cousins every june until the end of august. just like how she used to do it when she was younger, it was to continue the family tradition and i hope i can show my children too.
luckily, susannah had also inherited her family’s summer home and was still in very close contact with her two best friends.
i basically grew up with conrad and his younger brother, jeremiah. conrad and i were born in the same year, only a month apart. we were destined to be best friends since we were in diapers.
i’m also very close to laurel’s kids, steven and belly. moreso with belly than i am with steven since her and i are the only girls out of the five of us. she was a few years younger than me and honestly, she’s like the little sister i never had.
currently, i was lounging on the beach chairs by the poolside of the fisher’s home. conrad had his head on my lap, quietly napping and enjoying the summer warmth. i had one hand playing with his golden hair while the other flipping the pages of my book.
jeremiah, steven, and belly were all playing in the pool, the occasion yelling and screaming coming from them. they all had smiles painted upon their faces,
“y/n! get in!” jeremiah yells at me, splashing water in my direction. i use my book to cover conrad’s face in hopes that he won’t wake up,
“maybe later!” i say back to him, “i can’t really get up right now anyways.”
steven shrugs, “just push him off.”
belly gasps and hits her brother, “that’s so mean! but seriously, y/n, i’m leaving the day after tomorrow and you leave on tuesday next week.”
“i know” i sigh, part of me knows that there’s a chance i won’t be back in cousins with my favourite people for a long time. with college coming up and moving across the country to go to stanford, i knew that i couldn’t visit them as often after this.
nobody except for my mother knew, and i made her swear to not tell a soul that i had accepted my offer to stanford. especially the fact that i won’t see them all for possibly years.
“kids!” laurel calls out from the window, “dinners ready!”
the three from the pool scream as they all shove each other, trying to get out of the pool quickly. i gently shake my best friend awake, “connie, dinner”
his eyes flutter open, he rubs the sleep away, “okay.”
he offers me his hand when i stand up, which i gladly take. i feel butterflies in my stomach from the physical touch from him.
conrad has a soft hand on the small of my back as he guides me into the familiar home. we all sit around the large dinner table, all passing the delicious looking food around. i have conrad on my right and jeremiah on my left.
“y/n,” my mom says, i look up to match her gaze. the second i do, i see what she’s silently hinting at.
tell them.
i shake my head, swallowing the spoonful of mashed potato in my mouth, “no, mom”
jeremiah lifts an eyebrow at me, “she didn’t even say anything”
steven nods in agreement, his mouth full of food. laurel and susannah both look at my mother, trying to read her face,
“come on, honey.” she pleads, “you owe it to them”
this caught everyone’s attention, all eyes on me.
“what’s going on?” belly asks, placing her fork down, “mom?”
laurel shrugs, “i’m not too sure, bels”
i sigh, putting my hands onto my napkin covered lap. i didn’t want to tell them, but i also knew that i should,
“i’m going to stanford.” i tell them, after moments of confusion and silence.
susannah jumps up from her seat and runs over to my chair to squeeze me, “oh my goodness, y/n! that’s incredible news! congratulations, sweet girl!”
laurel was right behind her, “awh, my second baby! i knew you could do it.”
“wait, so why were you so hesitant on telling us?” jeremiah says as he hugs me, “this is good news!”
i frown slightly, “it’s easier for me to stay there for all four years, rather than flying back and forth for the summer…”
it took them a moment to digest what i said before steven pushes his chair back from the table,
“no, you aren’t saying…” he pauses, “you’re not coming back next summer? or the summers after that?!” steven exclaims, “what about christmas?!”
i shake my head, “flights are too expensive, i can’t”
i look over to conrad, who’s eyes haven’t left me since i broke the news. his expression was unreadable.
belly had a tear running down her cheek, “so, tomorrow is goodbye then?” she whispers, “we won’t be able to see each other until you’re done…”
“yeah, tomorrow is goodbye” i slowly nod, “my mom is planning on coming to visit so maybe you guys can too?”
jeremiah grins, “of course we will! i cant stay away from n/n for that long, i can barely handle a school year without seeing you!” he laughs, even though there’s evident sadness in his words.
“i’ll be sure to bring connie and jere to visit, honey” susannah promises me, “congratulations again”
i smile at her before everyone resumes to eating their food and making small conversation. i look back at conrad who’s playing with the food on his plate, i grab his hand under the table and squeeze it.
he looks at me and i ask, “beach after?”
dinner wrapped up quickly, steven and jeremiah getting ready for one last party of the summer — conrad and i agreed to go a bit after them.
conrad has his hand wraps around mine as we walk down towards the water, our arms are swinging while he laughs at some joke i made. we sit on the sand and watch the sun slowly lower into the horizon. we don’t say much but it’s never needed when it’s us two. we enjoy the comfortable silence and each other’s company.
i rest my head on his hoodie covered shoulder, him resting his head on mine soon after. he kisses my hair softly, “so stanford?”
i sigh, “yeah, stanford”
i can feel him smile, “congrats pretty girl”
my cheeks blush at the nickname, but i say nothing. all i want is to stay here with him on this beach we grew up on, forever.
“i always love the sunsets here,” i say, finally breaking the silence, “i swear they’re so much better here than they are in maine.”
he laughs, “i think i like them better here, because then at least i can watch them with you. back in boston, all the sunsets remind me of you.”
“you’re so cheesy” i giggle, gently shoving him with my shoulder.
he rests his cheek on his crossed over arms that are on his bent knees. he looks at me with sadness in his eyes, “same time, next week?”
i feel my eyes starting to water from his question, fully knowing that we don’t know the next time we’ll be able to do this, “im not here next week” i whisper out, tears crawling down my cheeks.
conrad has never been much of a crier, i think i’ve only seen him cry three times in my life. but right now will add to that count as a few tears fall from his eyes,
“im going to miss you so much, pretty” he tells me with his lips quivering, i reach over to wipe the tears off his face with the sleeve on my sweater.
“we can call anytime, okay?” i reply, giving a sad smile, “we always text each other too, but whenever i want to hear your voice, i’m going to call you.”
he chuckles, “so i guess i’ll be calling you 24/7”
i move closer to him and he wraps his arms around me into a tight hug.
“i’m not sure what summers are going to be like without you, y/n.”
“i don’t even want to think about it”
as the sun disappears beyond the horizon, we slowly get up to head back to our rooms to get ready for this party. my phone was blown up with snaps and text messages from jeremiah and steven, begging us to come and join them. one last summer party with them, one last chance to watch steven get black out drunk, one last opportunity to say goodbye to my summer friends, and only a few more sunsets to watch with conrad.
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