#because this means the planes are really and truly fucked.

[cloama]

#They're saying it was a self-inflicted wound. Even if it was ...Boeing caused it. Witnesses and whistleblowers are intimidated and stalked #This is terrifying because there are only a few recent retirees left who knew the gold standard of Boeing from the old days. #those guys are old pacific northwest dads who definitely don't want to die or get caught up in this. They're being silenced. #I will not be flying until something changes. #because this means the planes are really and truly fucked.

[pussy-ache]

thinking about how my sister just got engaged at 27 to her first boyfriend ever and i just don’t have a good feeling about it

#i mean i’m not talking to her right now lmao. i did not even say congrats #but i’m still her older sister and i don’t believe she really has experienced enough of the world and of love itself to be tied down #at least in that way — technically speaking she’s already ‘’tied down’’ being in a long term committed relationship #but like. i know she thinks my mom had us when she was ‘’too old’’ #my mom had me at 35 and my sister at 38 #my sister criticizes my mother for that and has made comments throughout the years about how her friends mothers are all so much younger #meanwhile my mother lived an EXPANSIVE life in hers 20s and early 30s #she went out outward bound trips with hippy dippy granola eating fucks and camped out for months on end #she jumped out of planes and paraglided and rode motorcycles #she was a huge pothead and spent so much time at the beach studying tide pools and looking for horseshoe crabs #she even metal detected after storms to see if she could find unique lost beautiful jewelery and other items that were lost at sea #she was a PERSON and without those experiences would NOT have been our mother #i’ve explained this to my sister dozens of times over — your opinion of our moms age is based upon you not seeing her as a PERSON w/ a LIFE #and she does not care. she still believes my mom was ‘’too old’’ which is a ridiculous argument because having kids in your 30s is NOT. OLD #like even outside of my opinion of our moms life. my sister is literally just wrong across the board because 30s is NORMAL #she frustrates me to no end because our ‘’differences of opinion’’ are actually REALLY big differences like. stop dehumanizing our mom….? #so truly. honestly. this is just a big push to ‘’not end up like’’ our mom so she’s getting married earlier and will have kids earlier #now in my own right i don’t want to ‘’end up like’’ my mom either — ie in a marriage that is unfulfilling with a man who bosses her around #but the difference between her opinion of ‘’not ending up’’ like her is she blame MOM for everything #meanwhile in MY example i blame my father for being a piece of shit to our mother and vowed i would never be in that situation myself period #but that’s not putting blame on my mother. that’s me seeing my mother as a VICTIM of injustice and misogyny #meanwhile my sister just sees my moms decisions as a ‘’problem’’ to be ‘’fixed’’ #meanwhile i am consistently reminding myself that while my mother loves her children very much… #she inherently had to LOSE herself in order to have us and fashion a new version of herself - the ‘’mom’’ version to replace her real self #my sister doesn’t care to talk to our mom about the intricacies that come with all of this. i do. quite often actually. #my moms rule was that she was not getting married before 30. period. #the first thing i said when my mom told me my sister was engaged was #‘’i don’t even believe someone should get married period. but especially not before 30’’ #she agreed. because she TAUGHT us that! she TAUGHT us the importance of finding yourself before anything else #but my sister in her race to ‘’not be like’’ our mom is missing out on turning into a wonderful person for it?

[gojonanami]

MEANT TO BE ✴︎ SUGURU GETO

✴︎ summary: when Suguru defects, he asks you to come with him -- but he's not going to take no for an answer. ✴︎ cw: 18+, dead dove, do not eat, smut, dub/con, degradation (use of "monkeys"), kidnapping, hostage, yandere(?)! geto, mentions of violence (no graphic descriptions), fingering, (afab!receiving), oral (afab!receiving), reader is a follow sorcerer at jujutsu tech. ✴︎ wc: 6,046

“Come with me,” when those words left Geto’s mouth, you knew he had truly lost his mind. 

“Come with you?” You repeat, as you turn slowly from your kitchen sink, your muscles tense — your cursed weapon was in your bedroom, your cursed technique wouldn’t be enough to stop him, and your cellphone was on the counter between the two of you, “Suguru, I just got a call from Satoru, not twenty minutes ago about what you’ve done-"

“And what have I done, besides try to do what’s right?” And he steps towards you, one hand in his pocket, and you step back, reaching for your phone that you thought laid on the counter behind your bag, only for him to wave it in front of you, “I thought you of all people would see that,” 

Your face twists in disgust, “You killed innocent people—" 

“I killed monkeys,” he spits through gritted teeth, “I killed monkeys who do nothing but produce curses and kill sorcerers. Why should the strong live subservient to a race of lower beings?” 

You blink, “Do you hear yourself, Suguru? What happened to the strong have to protect the weak?” 

“Why should the strong have to watch all the people they care about die, only to die at the hands of the supposed weak?” his gaze is dark, eyebrows knit together, “if you join me—"

“I’m not joining you—"

“—we can be together,” you stare at him, and he steps closer, again, and this time you don’t step away, “in a new world, we could rule over a new age,” 

“Fuck you,” you scoff, as you move towards the door, “I thought Satoru was the one with a god complex, not you,”

And in a moment, he has you pinned against the wall, arms above your head, “I’ve been patient with you, love, but unfortunately I’m not in the business of taking no for an answer,” and he presses a kiss to your neck, making you shiver, “either you come with me, or I’ll let Satoru find your remains splattered against your walls,” 

Your heart lurches, fear slowly settling in, as you realize this wasn’t Suguru - your Suguru who you spent afternoons with messing with Satoru, your Suguru that waited for you with an umbrella to walk back to Jujutsu High when it was raining, your Suguru that gently kissed you in a classroom when you were being far too hard on yourself — no, this was Geto, a special grace curse user. 

“Will you really kill me?” You ask slowly, willing your voice to stay even, “after everything, you’ll make the choice to kill me, and no one else from Jujutsu High,” 

“I don’t want to, sweetheart. There’s no meaning, no meaning without you,” his lips curl in a cruel imitation of what his smile was, “but if you leave me no choice because, I can’t let you live if you’re not by my side,” 

A bitter chuckle leaves your throat, “Is this supposed to be romantic? Am I supposed to fall into your arms at the prospect of living?” you spit in his face, “fuck you.” 

He flinches, his mouth agape, as he wipes the spit from his cheek with his thumb, “I thought you’d say that,” and then the plane of existence is cracked open behind him, as a swirl of curses manifest and you close your eyes, and wait. 

You had no regrets. 

But you do when you wake. 

Your head aches, fuck, and you can’t get your bearings, your ears are ringing — a jolt shoots up your spine, as your eyes adjust to the darkness. A curse? An enemy? 

No, it was both. 

Suguru stands in front of you, hands in his pocket, “Hello my love,” 

“Fuck you,” you spit with as much venom as you can muster, as you struggle to move, your hands chained down in bindings that restricted your cursed energy, “fuck-"

“Don’t be in such a rush, we’ll get to that part,” and his voice is so lilting, it sends a chill down your spine. 

“You touch me, and I’ll break every bone in your body,” you say through gritted teeth, and his lips curl into a smile, a small chuckle parting his lips. 

“And how could you do that, my love?” He steps forward, as his fingers hold your chin, “you’re mine to do with what I wish,” and your voice catches in your throat, as real fear crawls it’s way up your stomach, “but I don’t care to force my affection into you, I’ll have you begging for it soon enough,”  

And your stomach turns, as he steps away from you again, “so what do you call this?” You ask quietly, as you lift your chained wrists. 

“A matter of circumstance,” he frowns, as he holds his head, “I hate to do this, but I must remind you of how much you love me, how much we love each other, and until you remember, I cannot allow you out of those restraints.” 

“I’ll never love you, with or without them,” you surge forward, the  restraints grating against your skin, “I never loved you to begin with,” 

He looks at you, with almost pity, “We both know that’s not true,” you waver under the weight of his gaze and you despise how you can’t deny it, “was the first time we shared a kiss a lie? After we had gone on that mission where we saw far too many horrors for children to see? Was it a lie those nights you came to my dorm to sleep in my arms when you couldn’t otherwise? Was it-“ 

“I loved you,” you whisper, “the you were before - the you that wasn’t a murderer, the you that—"

“The me that was allowing us to live under the thumb of these disgusting monkeys, the ones who kill us and let us be killed for their sake, while the corpses of my friends and sorcerers pile up like sacrifices on a pyre,” and you know he’s talking about Haibara now, “I couldn’t continue to live for a world like that, and I couldn’t allow you to continue living in it either,” 

“Haibara would hate who you’ve become,” you whisper quietly into the darkness, as he glances back at you, no emotion stirring in his expression, as if he’s already thought this a million times before. 

“But at least he would be alive,” your mouth open and closes, as tears burn at your eyes, “and I couldn’t stand to watch a world where more of my comrades would die for a cause that was setting them up for failure — I couldn’t stand for a world where I would lose you—"

His voice breaks, and you shake your head. 

“You lost me sooner, by leaving, by killing innocent people-“ 

“No one is innocent in this world,” he cuts you off, “everyone’s hands are bloodied one way or another - just by living, humans contribute to the death of sorcerers, creating curses that inevitably lead to someone’s demise - whether it’s another human or a sorcerer,” 

“It’s not their fault that they create curses—"

And he gives a bitter laugh, “Then whose fault is it? I never took you to be naive, my love,” 

“Don’t call me that,” and he gives a twisted smile. 

“Why wouldn’t I? When I love you,” he steps closer, holding your chin, “I love you so much I’m willing to risk you despising me, just so I can call you mine,” 

“I’ll never be yours,” and he leans forward, making you squeeze your eyes shut, but he presses his lips to your forehead. 

“You already are,” and he turns to leave, his robes sweeping behind him, “and I’ll get your heart too — one way or another.” 

You only can keep track of the days by Geto’s visits. He is sure to visit you in the evenings, after his work is done. And each day he comes back more bloodied than the one previously. He always washes himself with the sink in your cell, before he turns to you. 

“I want you to see what these people are — nothing more than animals. Animals that make money or curses or both - tools that run their course,” 

“Just because you keep me chained up in here doesn’t mean you have to bore me to death as well,” you hang your head, and he looks at you, tilting your chin up with his fingers. 

And he tries a different tactic, “You have been refusing your food for days, when are you going to eat? You can’t go on like this,” his voice has an edge of concern, “there’s nothing in the food that can harm you,” 

“Says the kidnapper,” you mutter, “I’m not hungry,” and your stomach almost growls on cue, and a chuckle escapes his lips. 

“Your body tends to betray you, my love,” and he  grabs your food, lifting a spoonful of fried rice to your lips, “eat,” 

“I’m not—“ and he raises an eyebrow — and you scowl, “I don’t want to be fed by you,” 

“You didn’t mind before - you insisted I feed you between classes. Always vending machine junk too—" 

“It wasn’t junk—it was—" 

“An acquired taste,” he waves you off, his lips curling into a smile, “well, I always fed you, and I always will, so please?” And he offers you the spoon. You glance at him, before taking the spoonful. 

And you note the bags under his eyes, and the shallowness of his face, “Have you been eating? Or sleeping?” 

And he looks up, offering you another spoon, “I-"

“You haven’t been,” you shake your head, “and yet you have the gall to tell me to eat,” and you take the spoon from his hand, offering it to him, “it’s not poison, right?” 

And he cracks a small smile, taking the spoonful, “you don’t have a poison cursed technique that I don’t know about?” 

“You wouldn’t be alive still if I did,” and he laughs at that, and the sound makes your stomach flip — just like the first time you heard him make it for you when you had one-upped Satoru. The first time that you realized you wanted to be the one to always make him laugh like that. 

Days pass, and his visits become more frequent. He doesn’t tell you of the people he murders - he learns better than to tell you - but the blood on his clothes doesn’t escape your notice. But he tells you of the sorcerers he finds that are oppressed — tells you of the two girls he’s taken under his wing. But each day, he looks more tired than the next, until you call him over to you. 

“Lay down,” and he blinks, “you need to sleep,” 

“I-" 

“You look terrible,” you say bluntly, “lie down,” and he glances at your bed that you sat on the edge of, the chains around your wrists.  

He moves towards the bed, lying down, but his head doesn’t lay on the pillow, but instead your lap, “Geto-"

“Suguru,” he corrects, peering up at you, his eyes barely staying open, “please,” and your resistance breaks, the exhaustion of being alone, the need for human contact, the softness of his body against yours - sends your walls crumbling to dust. Your fingers comb through his dark locks, softly undoing the tangles in them. And his breathing evens with time, as you lie back against the wall. 

“Suguru,” you whisper into the darkness, as your eyes shut as well, and you don’t see his lips curl into a smile. 

You don’t realize you fall asleep as well, until you wake a few hours later, and you’re asleep against his chest, his warm arms engulfing you. And you could swear the two of you were napping in an empty classroom, hiding from Yaga and Satoru, on a warm afternoon. And he’d whisper in your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

But it wasn’t a classroom, it was a cell. And those hands no longer exorcised curses — they murdered humans. 

But you could pretend. Just this once. You bury your head in his chest, and let yourself drift. But only this one time. 

When you wake next, he’s gone, the only memory of him is the unchained bindings on your wrists, the faint smell of him on your clothes, and the ghost of his touch still clinging to you.

The next few days his visits grew more frequent, but only for sleep, as he nestled beside you, as you pretended to be asleep. It became routine. At first, you would sleep turned away, but by morning, you were sleeping nestled in his chest. And then you dared to ask, “why do you come here to sleep? You must have a better bed somewhere else,” 

And he gives a phantom of a chuckle, “Well, that bed doesn’t have you, does it?” 

And his hand dares to breach your skin before sleep steals away your consciousness, and you can’t help but let it happen — because it hurts too much to pull away. 

And you don’t know why.  

He doesn’t come back for several days. The only interaction you have is one of his followers bringing you food each day, and they don’t answer your questions regarding their ‘lord.’ And each day you grow more anxious, picking at your nerves like you picked at your scabs — incessantly and unnecessarily. 

What if he was dead? What did it matter? All the more quickly you could return to jujutsu high, you could return to your life - a life without Geto. But the same question remained posed in your head — what if he was dead? 

Would you see his dead body before jujutsu high disposed of it? Before they forced Shoko to autopsy it for any secrets the higher ups could lock away - as if he were a failed experiment rather than a person. 

But he had killed so many - wouldn’t death only be right? Would that bring justice? Would that be peace? But the question remained, hanging in the forefront of your head, like a dead body from the rafters, a rope tied around their neck—

What if he was dead? 

But days later, your door swings open and it’s him — “Suguru,” you nearly all but tumble out of your bed, scrambling to his side as your gaze swept over his form. Scarlet ran down his body, cuts, bruises, and scratches littered what was visible of his skin, “what happened?” 

He doesn’t answer, a blank expression on his face, his hair come loose from his usual bun, bags under his eyes that tell tales of what he saw without him speaking a word of them. You reach for him tentatively, words scattered on the floor of your mind that you were desperately trying to collect, “is this your blood or someone else’s?” 

“Both,” he murmurs, his eyes still far gone, as his gaze shifts to the floor, “I have no right to ask — but can you—I can’t stand to have anyone else touch me—“ and his voice breaks, breaks for the first time — the same voice that didn’t break after Riko’s death, the same voice that didn’t break after Satoru was taken away from him, the same voice that didn’t break after Haibara — it broke. 

And it broke you. 

“Strip,” you say simply, but you undo his robes for him, “I need to see what damage you’ve done to your body,” you busy yourself with undressing him to escape the fact that you’re undressing him. You had seen his body times before, at first in dorm rooms late at night, when you cuddled next to him, desperate for a comfort he could only provide, and then between heated kisses and intimate touches that left you near breathless and needy for him, and then distant embraces that left you feeling more lonely and far from him than before. But this was different. 

He was different. 

You stripped away the clothing to find him bloodied and bruised to an almost impressive, but terrifying extent. The blood smeared on his skin was mostly another’s — you learned once you started to clean his cuts and bruises with a damp rag, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

His eyes slowly glide to you, cold as glaciers, “Do you want to hear about it?” 

“I’m asking, aren't I?” you sigh, as his gaze drops once again, and your hands still, one of your hands drifting to his chin, tilting his eyes to meet yours, “Suguru-” 

And he’s kissing you. 

His lips are soft, just as you remembered. You remember the first moment you noticed his lips — it was when you had fed him a pocky after he had swallowed a curse, his brow scrunching with slight disgust — never quite getting used to the taste, but having grown as accustomed to it as he could (as far as someone could grow accustomed to swallowing what was akin to a vomit soaked rag used clean shit). You sat beside him, a pocky between your lips, as you offered him one in your hand. And his gaze softened, leaning down and biting the one between your lips instead. And then you couldn’t stop staring at his lips — wondering how they felt against yours. 

He tasted like blood now, metallic and sharp as his jaw was now — no longer having the soft curve of childhood it was maybe a year ago. He swallows your gasp eagerly, giving you leeway to pull away, but you don’t. You can’t. Your lips press back into his, and he smirks against your lips, his arm wrapping around the middle of your back, so he was engulfing you even as he sat. His teeth bare down on your bottom lip, making you moan lightly, and his tongue sneaks between your lips with practiced ease, but it's no longer the sweet assault it once was — it's an onslaught, a razing of your defenses, and he knows the weaknesses of each curtain wall and bastion. 

“Suguru, wait—” but he’s impatient, he’s always so impatient — the first time you had kissed, he couldn’t stop at just one kiss, he needed your lips to be kiss bitten red until he was satisfied. His hands are so large and calloused, gliding up your sides, as he pulls you into his lap, “we were talking,” you protest, but he empties the words from your head with his lips pressed to your jaw, “Why are you—” 

“I don’t want to talk,” his raven locks fall in front of his face, his eyes somehow even darker, “I just want you, please,” 

And your heart squeezes and breaks, the walls crumbling to nothing, as you lean in and kiss him this time, fingers threading through his his hair, while your other hand rests on his bare chest, if only to feel his heartbeat under your touch. 

He was alive. Alive. 

“Please,” you sigh, as he toys with the hem of your shirt, “don’t tease me,” 

“Like you haven’t teased me with your existence each and every day I’ve known you, my love,” he chuckles, a noise deep from his chest that rumbles against your palm and sends a shiver down your spine, and he lifts your hand, kissing your wrist, his nose pressed against your pulse, “Do you know how much I want you? How much I need you?” and he answers the question for you, as he leans forward, his teeth graze your neck, pain and pleasure mixing in a twisted way. 

“Suguru—“ 

He rises from his seat, looming over you, his arms sweeping — one behind you and the other holding your chin — it sends a chill down your spine, “I just arrived at a village where a child was being held - said to be cursed. But those monkeys were the ones who were—“ he cuts off, “I came too late. They had killed her - sacrificed her to purge their village of their curses - a five year old girl,” he frowns, his gaze falling, “they failed to realize they were the true curses. So I purged the world of their existence,” 

You’re quiet for a moment, as he speaks, “she was a child and they ripped her to shreds,” and a tear slips down his cheek. 

Your fingers brush away his tear, before you lean up and kiss him. Your lips glide against his lightly, “it’s not your fault,” 

“I am always too late - I was there - I couldn’t-“ and you know he isn’t just talking about the girl anymore. 

Or at least this one. 

“What happened to Riko wasn’t-" 

“He shot her right through the head in front of me,” 

“You couldn’t sense him - Satoru could barely sense him with his six eyes—"

“Satoru could have stopped it—" 

“Satoru died and came back trying to stop Toji,” you crush your lips to Suguru, if only to get him to stop talking, “there was nothing more you could do,” 

“But I couldn’t stay,” he whispered, “I couldn’t watch more people die - more of my friends die, piled up like offerings on a pyre for animals who only kill us in the end,” 

“I know,” you whisper, “I know-" 

“You don’t,” his voice breaks, “all I could think about was finding your dead body one day,” you cup his cheeks again, pressing your lips to his forehead. 

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, and he kisses you — and he tastes less like blood and more like him — his arms wrapping around your waist, as he pulls you closer, “Suguru,” you shouldn’t be doing this. 

“I just want to feel good,” he murmurs, his eyes lidded with lust, “let me make you feel good, love,” 

His lips brush yours, and the ravine between you shrinks to a crack, as your bodies bridge the gap, before tumbling over the cliff. 

His hands are everywhere. His hands have mapped your body times before, but the gentle and awkwardness had all but faded, only leaving hunger. Already, his fingers are sliding under your shirt, calloused hands sliding over your bare skin. 

His lips only pause when his hands run over a new scar you had gotten right before he had gone rogue, “How did you get this?” 

And his eyes are dark, “I was on that mission, with Nanami and Haibara,” your gaze falls, as his fingers trace the scar, raised and angry still - just as he was, “we got separated. There was two grade 1s instead just the one we were told. I got this when it caught me by surprise,” you swallow thickly, “but I was lucky it was all I got,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “I sometimes wish it was me instead of-" 

“Don’t say that,” his words are as sharp as they always were, sharp as his touch, sharp as the curses that he pushed past his lips and the ones that left them, “don’t ever say that,” 

And his palm curls around your neck, “but-" 

He yanks you into a brutal kiss, forcing you swallow his words, and his tongue, as you moan, as he tastes you, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, even with the stupid things that leave your mouth,” he almost growls, as he lifts you onto the bed. 

“Suguru,” your back hits the mattress, barely bouncing against the springs before he looms over you - his smile was the same as it always was, but it sent a shiver down your spine - because you realize now how predatory it was, “are we—" 

“You’re mine, love,” his lips hover over yours, teasingly so, as his fingers cup your chin and his breath warms your skin, sending heat to the tips to your already curling toes, “even if I did, we’d find our way back; one way or another,” his lips brush gently over the nape of your neck, “I’d always come for you — one way or another,” 

Your lips meet again, and again, as his hands slide up your sides, but this time bringing your shirt with them, as he lifts it over your head. Your skin prickles at the cold air in the room and at his hot gaze dragging up your body. 

“You’re still the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, as his hands gently traces the curves of your body, and it makes you shiver - the hands that had slaughtered people earlier today could be this gentle with you. 

“And I still think you’re far more beautiful than I am,” your fingers run through his jet-black locks, “everyone had a crush on you,” 

He snorts, “Everyone?” 

“You should have seen the looks you and Satoru always got,” you roll your eyes, “the two princes of Jujutsu High - and you, you had the personality to match,”

“Well I wasn’t concerned about everyone,” his hands slip over his waist, “I only had eyes for one other,” 

“Satoru?” And he rolls his eyes. 

“Okay two others,” and your hand reaches to smack him, but he’s got both your hands pinned, before he’s leaning down to kiss your neck, “so temperamental,” he chides, “what am I going to do with you, Princess?” 

His other hand slips down your body, past the waistband of your shorts, ripping a gasp from your lips, “already so wet f’me,” his voice rasps with a chuckle, “you’ve been needing me for a while, haven’t you, baby?” 

“Suguru—“ and his fingers between to tease your leaking folds, making you squirm under his touch. 

“So perfect,” his long and lithe finger teases your lips apart, “I’m surprised you haven’t soaked through your shorts, probably thought about me every night I slept next to you - you were waiting for me to roll over and take you, weren’t you, baby?” And his finger finally slips in, your back arching and mouth in a silent ‘o.’ 

And he hums, as he begins to pump his finger, slowly at first, but it isn’t long before another joins, scissoring and stretching you, “you’re soaking the sheets, baby, such a dirty girl,” He leans down taking a nipple between his teeth, sucking harshly. 

“Please,” it was too much, too soon, and he’s grinning as his teeth dig into your soft skin, a soft groan as he feels you clench around his fingers. He holds your legs down in place, humming as they shake under his touch. 

“So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you around my cock, Princess,” and you’re so fuckin’ close - wound too tight by his touch, by his presence, by him - and when his thumb rubs circles on your clit, your hips begin to ride his fingers. He chuckles, as he leans down to kiss you, “what would the people at Jujutsu High think? Seeing you ride my fingers like a slut? Probably think you’re locked away, waiting for them to save you, not begging for me to fuck you,” 

“Sugu,” and he curls his fingers just right, just as he bends down to suck on your clit. You moan his name, as you fall apart, back arching as you make a mess all over his hand, but his mouth is there to clean it up. His hot breath is the only warning you get before his tongue begins to lap at your drenched folds. 

“Never get enough of you creamin’ all over my fingers for me, pretty girl,” the noises he made as he licked, slurped, and sucked were enough to make you a mess, his lips shiny with your release, “how did I go so long without tasting you, baby? Almost makes swallowing curses worth it if I can eat you out after,” his words were as lewd as the sounds you made, your hips involuntarily fucking his mouth, as he moved his mouth to your clit again, and slipped two fingers in, “tasted so good the first time, gotta have another taste baby,” 

And your initial whine turns into a moan, your fingers finding refuge in the soft locks of his hair, tugging him impossibly closer, as he’s bullying your overstimulated clit with his mouth. And he enjoys it as much as you do, grinding his aching erection into the mattress, his jaw aching as he’s desperate to taste every inch of you and slurp every drop of your pussy will give him. Your thighs close in on him, as he tongue fucks you over and over, gushing as he draws another orgasm from you. 

“Sugu, oh my god-“ and that’s all the warning he gets before your back arches and your toes curl. He’s grinning against your folds as he eagerly swallows your release. The tension snapped like a wire that had been on the last fringes of holding you together, and you fell completely apart. 

Luckily, Suguru was there to put you back together. 

You’re panting, utterly blissed out as you watch him tug off his boxers, his dick already red and so pretty, pearly white bead of pre cum nearly dripping from the tip. You lick your lips looking at him, and he smiles, so sweetly that it sent a shiver down your spine. 

“So needy for me, the man you had refused to love, and now look at you,” he leans down to kiss you, letting you taste the sweet and bitter taste of your release, “such a little slut for me, aren’t you sweetheart? What happened to that mouth on you?” 

He drags his thumb down your bottom lip, as your eyes flutter down to his cock again, “I have better uses for my mouth,” you kiss his chest, teasing his skin with your tongue. 

And then he’s shifting you, your legs pushed up and over his shoulders, as he drags his tip over your dripping folds, “I think I’ll have you use my mouth after I use this naughty cunt, let you clean our cum off me,”

“Sugu, please, fuck,” you cry, and god he can’t wait to see your pretty face cry, as he stuffs your mouth with his dick, but he had patience. He could wait - he had waited long enough. 

“Gonna need you to beg for it,” he murmurs, groaning as your cunt nearly sucking his cock in, “you fought me so long and so hard and now here you are, so pliant f’me, so I need to hear it — who do you belong to?” 

“Suguru—“ and his lips press to yours, sloppily and rough, as if he wants to steal the logic from your mind, but he already had from the moment his lips touched yours, “please,” you whimper, and he’s spanking your cunt. 

“Please, what?” And his lips are curled in a grin as his lips trail kisses along your jaw, “gonna have to hear the words, my filthy girl,” 

And you can’t - you need him, “I’m yours,” your legs lock around his shoulders, “I belong to you, you own me,” 

Your words slip from a whine to a moan, as he sinks his length into you, inch by inch, and it’s enough for him to groan, fuck, it’s enough to make him cum on the spot, “you’re so tight, baby - it’s been too long since I’ve had you, gotta make this cunt remember my shape,”

“I wanted you so bad,” you gasp, as his hands grasp at your thighs, fingernails digging into your soft flesh, “but you kept getting farther away from me, and then you were gone,” and his gaze soften, even as you moan when he bottoms out, “I loved you - I love you—" 

“I love you too - I always have,” his teeth drags into his thigh, sucking and soothing the mark, he presses his cheek to the skin, “I left because I didn’t want to hurt you - and I couldn’t rise to your level,” his fingers tilt your chin to meet his, “so I had to drag you down to mine,” 

You moan as he gives a sharp thrust, “Fuck, Sugu,” as his hips slap against yours, all thoughts evaporating from your mind, as he fucks you, hard and fast, any words you knew dissolve away, leaving only his name behind (and a few choice swear words). 

Meanwhile, Suguru can’t stop speaking, “Never gonna want to leave me again, my sweet girl,” he purrs, “look at this sweet cunt, it doesn’t even want let my cock go without sucking me back in,” his words nearly drowned out by the sloppy noises of both of your cum soaked skin meeting together in thrusts, “tell me you’ll never leave, tell me you’ll stay,” and his movements slow to a stop, as you whine, “tell me,” 

“I’ll never leave you, I can’t,” you look up with eyes glassy with need, “can’t ever leave you, I love you,” and he’s fucking you harder, feeling your walls clench around him as you’re moaning his name as you cum. He comes undone too as you squeeze him, painting your insides with his thick cum. And you’re arching your back as you feel yourself full of him - so fucking good and full — as you come down from your high. 

And then all too soon, he’s pulling out, only to flip you over, on all fours, “Not done yet,” he only murmurs, leaning forward over you, as his still hardening cock bumps against your sensitive clit, “gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to,” his fingers collect your mixed cum dripping down your thighs to only shove it back in your still overly sensitive cunt. 

You lurch forward, knees buckling, as his fingers working you, “still so fucking tight even after I fucked you so good, Princess? Your cunt is still so needy for my cock,” he kisses your clit, before slapping it, the wet squelch enough to make you throb, “you ready for me, my love?” He grunts, raspy and raw. 

“Please,” you whine, and he doesn’t sink in slowly this time - your cunt nearly sucks him in, your mixed releases letting him slip in with ease, “f-fuck,” 

And Suguru hums, all too pleased, “Not so defiant now that you’re fucked out for me, baby,” his hips piston into you, and all you can feel, smell, and taste is him, all you can hear is your blood in your ears and the sloppy noises of Suguru fucking you. 

You were so close — you were so stretched out, his thrusts balls deep, as his hand reached around to turn your face to his to kiss your lips. It was sloppy, his calloused hand gripping your neck, lightly squeezing, as his tongue tasted your mouth, intent on having all of you, swallowing your moans eagerly. 

“Doing so well for me, Princess,” he praises, his jaw set as your walls clench at his cock, “such a fucking good girl for me,” It was as lewd as his other hand reaching around to to rub roughly at your folds, “need you to squirt for me, need you to drench me,” and it’s too much for you. 

You moan his name, shaking as you cum, squirting all over his cock as your release slides down your thighs, and Suguru follows shortly after, with a few rough thrusts, his hands grabbing your shaking hips to hold in place as he spurts his cum again inside you. 

He’s panting and groaning, as he slips from you, a swear leaving his lips as he pulls out, his seed dripping down your thighs as well. 

And you’re slumping on the bed, your sheets sticky with your release and sweat, as he gently turns you over, your chest rising and falling as he settles on top of you. His fingers brush your hair from your face, “Can we discuss moving you to the main house with me now?” He asks softly, as he presses sweet kisses to your flushed skin. 

“Yes,” you murmur, your lips slowly meeting his in a soft kiss, “as much as I don’t agree with your methods still, I can’t live a day without you,” and he smiles, “I can’t help but be drawn to you,” 

“And that’s why I couldn’t let you go - there has to have been a meaning to this,” he smiles, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, before he’s guiding your body so that you’re settled between his thighs, his cock brushing against your lips, “and now there always will be.”

✴︎ a/n: so this was inspired by a character ai (which i wanted to credit the creator but i can't find), but this was dark, so read the content warnings. i'm trying out different formats for my fics so excuse the changes. also i never was into geto until season 2 straight up hit me like the isekai truck.

#suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto angst #sab [mlist]

[taurussbabe]

NSFW alphabet

note: first time doing something like this, hope you like it warning: obviously nsfw content, smut...

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After sex, Charles places feather kisses all over you

He loves to hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings to you until you fall asleep

He loves to clean you and if you’re going to sleep, he brushes your hair and braids your hair because he knows you don’t like to sleep with your hair down

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Charles loves your legs

The moment he saw them, he knew he was a goner

He loves to leave a trail of kisses and hear the sounds you make when he does so

His favorite part of his body is his arms and hands

He loves how you get so excited every time you see him flexing his arms

Or how you grab onto his arms when he’s pounding into you

c = cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He loves to cum in you, that’s a fact

But also loves when you make him cum in your mouth

Seeing you lick your lips clean and swallow him, that truly turns him on again

He also adores to make you cum with your fingers and then put his fingers in your mouth so you can taste yourself

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He never told you (and doesn’t plan on) but he thinks you’re so hot when you speak French

Not being your first language, he just loves how it rolls of your tongue

He would LOVE to do it on a plane

He never did it but he loves the idea, but you’re always with people on the plane, whether it’s going to races or holidays

He hopes to one day join the mile high club

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Unlike what most people think, charles isn’t even that experienced

He had long term girlfriends so he was never really with a lot of people

But he DOES know what he’s doing

He knows exactly when and what do to in order to make you go crazy

f = favorite position (goes without saying)

Charles loves to see the faces you make when he makes you feel good

So he loves missionary

This way he can just whisper dirty things near your ears easily

Also, when he’s tired from his workouts or races, he woman on top or cowgirl

Where he can just lay down, and watch you take care of him

He enjoys watching you place your hands on his chest

This way he’s also able to grab your boobs while you’re riding him

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Sometimes he says things in English that don’t mean what he think it does, that causes a laugh between the two of you

But usually he’s more serious and calm, determined to make you feel good

He also likes to think of himself as a romantic, so he doesn’t want to ruin the atmosphere between the two of you

h = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Charles is well groomed, he likes to be trimmed but not completely bald

He also loves to make sure you’re comfortable with the length of his hairs and takes your suggestions into consideration

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Charles is a romantic

He absolutely loves to kiss you, always

There isn’t one single time you have sex where he doesn’t kiss all of you

One time, he was trying to be so romantic he filled the room with roses and candles and even played soft romantic music in the background

That was definitely the best sex you two ever had

It was just so intimate and romantic

He loves to stop and look into your eyes, brushing a stray of hair behind your hear

j = jack off (masturbation)

When he’s away for too long and you cant join him in races he masturbates

But when he’s at home, you both satisfy each other pretty much, so he doesn’t need it

Sometimes you end up facetiming when he’s away, and you both get at it together

k= kink (one or more of their kinks)

C’mon, the man talks about having kids all the damn time, he obviously has a breeding kink

He loves to cum in you

And fuck his cum back into you with his fingers, obviously with your permission

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

He loves the bedroom, it’s basic, but he loves it

There no one will interrupt you guys and he loves to know that

Also loves the car

Like, it’s so impractical but he loves it

Going for a midnight drive and stop where no one can see you

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Lingerie, RED lingerie

He absolutely loses his mind, seeing him in ‘his’ color

And when you say you bought it just for him, because it’s his color

Also, seeing you wear a Ferrari shirt to sleep, and noting underneath, except but some panties

After seeing you spend an afternoon with kids, whether it’s his cousins or yours

When you get home that night, he’s definitely gonna make love to you until the sun rises, whispering how much you would be a good mom, and that you would look so good pregnant

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that would hurt you or leave bruises.

He just isn’t into that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He goes down on you a lot and he’s extremely good at that.

He prides himself in knowing he can make you cum from just his tongue.

He also likes when you go down on him, but prefers to be inside you so he prefers to go down on you

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the mood.

Sometimes after a bad race, you tell him to take it out on you and he’s rougher and fast

But on those days where he’s all romantic he slow and sensual and wants to make it last as long as he can

Also, depending on your mood as well, if you had a bad day, you might want it fast but if you’re feeling emotional he’ll be super soft and slow with you

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Likes them but doesn’t want to make a habit out of it

Like sometimes in the middle of the night if he wakes up hard, you’ll have a quickie.

Or after a race, just before interviews

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Depends if you ask for something, he’ll think about it

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He HAS stamina

A bunch of it, don’t know if it’s from training or anything like that

But he can go on and on and ON

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He knows you own a little toy for when he’s away

He’s ok with it, but he doesn’t like that you use it when he’s home

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

He LOVES to tease, he can do it for hours

But after he does it, you make sure to punish him, teasing him as well

And you like to tease him on your own as well, wearing a backless dress with a huge slit on your leg and then beg him to let him come

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can get loud

But he loves to make you go crazy at the point you nearly have to yell

He groans loudly a lot

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You were laying in bed in the middle of the night, peacefully sleeping when charles wrapped his arm around you and woke you up with soft kisses on your neck

“I need you” he said “like physically need you”

He pressed his body onto you and you could feel his hard cock against you

“ok, love” you said and within seconds felt him push himself inside of you

“let’s just stay like this” you nodded and drifted off to sleep again and so he did

And in the morning, you did it properly but for that night, you just stayed like that the whole time

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s definitely large, bit in girth and length

But more in girth than length

The first time you gave him a blow job you were scared you couldn’t do well because of his size

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You had sex a few times a week, not every day but certainly not a low sex drive

There was one time where you went on a holiday week just the two of you and had sex every single night until the sunrise

z = zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he loves aftercare so he makes sure you feel loved and valued before he’s ready to fall asleep, but he usually likes to watch you fall asleep first

But you drift off pretty quickly so it’s okay

#charles leclerc x reader #taurussbabe #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut

[got-ticket-to-ride]

John Lennon talking about "the Beatles break up" in 1970

Breakdown:

Jann asks about the Beatles break up and John says he told Paul he is leaving (like they are the only two people in the band?)

Paul was still making a lot of plans for the band but John was already being stubborn about everything.

Paul probably thought he could/would do damage control while John has not made the announcement yet.

John saying he wasn't angry and then saying "not angry in that way" (what way then, John?) and then slipping to "we" were angry.

Paul calling John on the phone the same day (after crying his heart out for an hour) declaring : he can do the same "John and Yoko" thing

John answering like he was going to be ok with it.

Jann Wenner: You said you quit The Beatles first.

John: Yeah.

Jann Wenner: How?

John:

Well, I said to Paul, I'm leaving.

We're in Apple and I just on the way over to. I knew before I went to Toronto, I told Alan I was leaving. I told Eric Clapton and Klaus that I was leaving and I'd like to probably use them as a group, you know, and it hadn't decided how to do it, to have a permanent new group or or what. And then later on I thought, fuck, I'm not going to get stuck with another set of people in it, whoever they are. So, but I I announced it to myself and to the people around me on the way to Toronto the few days before. And on the plane, Alan came with me. I told Alan, you know, it's over. And then when I got back there was a few meetings and Alan had said, well, cool it cool it because there was a lot to do, you know, business wise it wouldn't have been suitable at the time, you know.

And then we were discussing something in the office with Paul, and Paul said something other, like like to do something or. And I kept saying no, no, no to everything, he said, you see. So it came to a point. I had to say something, of course. And well, what do you mean then? So I said, I mean the group's over, I'm leaving.

And but Alan was there. He'll remember exactly, and she will. This is my how I see it. Alan was saying don't tell.

He didn't want me to tell Paul even you know (pause). And but I couldn't help. So I thought I was out. I couldn't stop.

It came out and Paul and Alan said they were glad that I wasn't going to announce it, that I was going to make an event out of it. Right, but Paul and Alan both. I don't know whether Paul said don't tell anybody, but he was damn pleased that I wasn't, you know, he said, Oh well, that means nothing really happened if you're not going to say anything.

So that's what happened. Well, I mean, like, like anybody when you say divorce, you know, their face goes all sorts of colours. It's like he knew what really that this was the final thing, you know?

And then six months later, he comes out with whatever, you know, I told Ray Connolly. So there's a lot of people knew I'd left, but I was a fool not to do it, you know? Not to do what Paul did, which is use it to sell a record.

Jann Wenner: You were really angry at Paul.

John: No, I wasn't angry. But when he came out with his, I'm leaving. Well, I wasn't angry. I was just shit, you know, I mean, he's a good PR man, Paul. I mean, he's about the best in the world, probably. He really does a job.

I was just. I wasn't angry in that way. I was. We were all hurt that he didn't tell us.

That what he was going to do. But he, I think he claims that he didn't mean that to happen, but that's bullshit. He called me in the afternoon of that day and said I'm doing what you and Yoko were doing last year. And I said good, you know.

Mal Evans during an interview in 1975

MAL (Source): And then… John left. And I remember that well. That was really, truly a heartbreaking experience. We were in Apple, at 3 Savile Row, and John said – “It’s over.” You know? And I drove Paul home. And we got to Paul’s house, and

he spent the next hour in the house crying his eyes out.

And I just wandered around the garden like a lost soul, just crying. It was the end of the world. It was like the end of The Wizard of Oz – when she gets back to the black-and-white reality. All the colour had gone out of life.

#Mclennon Dynamic #John Lennon #Paul Mccartney #Mclennon #1970 #The Beatles #things I read to hurt myself #gttr-beatles

[imaginethezeldaverse]

The Desert's Moon (Ganondorf x Reader) (NSFW)

Welcome, welcome to the 100 follower fic I set all those polls for! You all chose and waited so patiently, so please allow me to give you the winner: a good fic with our big bad guy, Ganondorf (Tears of the Kingdom version). This will be nsfw, and just to be safe, be wary of any spoilers below the cut, okay? For this fic I'm running with an idea that was dropped in my inbox - initially I had planned to make it a simple headcanon post, but since he won, I'm writing it as a full blown fic instead. Thank you all for voting, it sincerely means a lot, I cannot believe even more of you have followed me since then. The comments and appreciation from you all truly makes my day. 🥹 As for the theme: you are inexperienced (we'll even say virginal) and Ganondorf here is going to be your first. Let's explore that together, shall we? Reader is gender neutral for all to enjoy. I sniped some fictional Gerudo language from here because I mean Ganondorf is a Gerudo man...he definitely should be able to speak the language.

Ganondorf is intimidating, this much is true. His demeanor exudes power in all things he does: fight, lead, and even fuck. He's had many a partner, his skills as a lover growing with each encounter of his past. He is not unfamiliar with experienced partners - and he will show you the patience and slowness you deserve.

The key is for you to be honest with him. Should you try to front as though you are experienced in sex, just know that he can see right through you. Ganondorf's read on body language is exceptional - so the slight shake in your body or the quiver in your voice is an immediate alert to him that you aren't what you're trying to portray yourself as. To your benefit however, he'll most likely find this cute. You attempting to be brave and take him head on is adorable, even though you have no idea what you'd be getting into (or really what would be getting into you). Being upfront however is not without its loss - you'd gain his respect and potentially a chance to call him an equal, he likes the idea of a long-term partner who can be honest with themselves as well as him.

For a man of his size and status, he's quite gentle. He offers to hold you first in your nudity, get you used to feeling his body against yours. Ganondorf will most likely seat you in his lap, with your legs splayed open over the length of his hips and thighs. Should you shy away or find yourself embarrassed by the less than polite way you're sat on him, he'll simply chuckle, reiterating that this is to acclimate you. His hands will find a place on your thighs, unmoving, but present. "Touch me anywhere you'd like," he offers, the rich amber of his eyes meeting your own. Setting the pace in your favor will help ease some of your apprehension. Your hands explore the planes of his body: his adept, powerful hands; the sizable, muscular curvatures of his forearms and biceps; over the thickened bands of his shoulders and down to the broad expanse of his chest. He's a mountainous man in size and that alone has you a tiny bit afraid, but you also can't deny that being able to trace your fingertips over the patterned tattoos that stretch across his muscles doesn't elate you.

When your hands finally cup the wide angles of his jaw, you find the pluck to once more lock eyes with the Gerudo chief. There's something unreadable swimming in them: whether it's tenderness or restraint you aren't wholly sure. His arm wraps around your lower back, bring you ever closer to him in a swift push. Your hands remain on his face, lips inching closer. Ganondorf doesn't kiss you. No, he wants you to be the one to take the honor of taking the first step. The world talks of his lust and greed for power, and make no mistake, the rumors are very much true. But this - intimacy with you - Ganondorf knows better than to rush. Taking you by force serves him little, and there is humanity in him still that bars him from wanting any harm to come to you. To feel your body yearn for him willingly only makes that much sweeter. Your breaths mingle momentarily, your heart pounding in your chest until you finally take the plunge and seal the gap. You're chaste in your kiss, timidity holding your tongue. No matter, the sensation of his thick digits roaming over the curve of your ass has you gasping enough against his mouth for him to coax you into a deeper kiss. Unbeknownst to you, your head tilts naturally, angling so that you can continue the kiss comfortably. You let go of his face, your fingers sliding into his long vermillion locks. There's a sound vibrating at the back of his throat that hits your ears so pleasantly - the simple soothing sensation of your hands in his hair delights him, so naturally he wants you to know it. The kiss builds heat, your body slowly beginning to want his hands to move beyond your backside. You lean into him, pressing your chest to his and linking your arms around his neck. The smile that curls his lips upward is something you can feel, and you almost smile back - but his hands that have now occupied a space on your hips are dragging your body over his lap. Ganondorf parts from your mouth, watching you bite your lip as he slowly grinds you over what you realize is his length beginning to grow rigid beneath you. Breaths slowly starting to come in shudders you snap your eyes shut, focusing on how his length slides teasingly over where you biologically know he's going to be soon enough.

"Do you feel me?" he purrs, dark tiger eyes trained on your flushed features, "Do you feel my want for you? My desire?" Your thighs are seeking one another to lock this feeling between them, but his hulking mass keeps them widely separated - your center at the mercy of his ministrations. Seeking purchase, your nails dig into his shoulders, earning a pleased rumble from the man. His lips find the hollow of your throat, easing pointed kisses and gentle bites to your sensitive flesh. Soft moans sound angelic to Ganondorf's ears; with ease he lifts you into his arms, your legs still very much wrapped as best as possible around his torso. Smooth, crimson silks caress your back as you're laid across the stretch of his bed. He doesn't stop kissing your body, only proceeds to move down it. Your collarbone, your nipples, the softness of your stomach: all places his lips tease and touch. He drinks your whines and whimpers in as though starving, an innate need to hear your voice call out to him ever growing. Still, he keeps slow. Rough finger pads glide down your body, stroking and fondling a pathway until he settles on his knees, with your legs splayed open by the sheer width of him. Those kisses that traveled now dot their way from your knee and inward. Your breath hitches, you know where he's going...you desperately want him there. As he reaches closer and closer, you shudder out, "P-Please...Gan..." Those initially amber slits, now ochre with hunger, slide up to see your face. Your cheeks are stained with reddish hues with your chest rising and falling faster than before.

"Is there something you need?" the timbre in his voice makes somewhere your stomach clench. How is it just his voice makes you feel this way? What kind of spell has he cast on you? Though your mind tries to wrack itself with answers, it always circles back to the lips that are nipping at your inner thighs. He places a kiss just close enough for you to feel his breath over your sex and you swallow thick with the gasp that tries to free itself.

"Your...mouth..." says you in a shaky whine, "Please..."

Like satin and fire, his chuckle is both suave but with the promise of something vile. A strong grip parts your legs further, holding you wide open. You try desperately not to look at how he drinks your nudeness in, fearing that you seeing the sheer lust flashing across his strong features will have you curl into yourself.

His mouth descends.

You gasp sharply.

Hot and wet is his tongue against your opening, circling your responsive flesh, his eyes never leaving your face. Ganondorf watches on as his silver tongue devours you, each lap and suck at you surging pleasure through your limbs. With one last scoop at your hole, he drew back. There was a question at your lips when you felt him retreat, but before you could even get a word out, you felt his finger carefully slide into you.

"A-Ah!" you mewled, then hissed. Given the size of him overall, even his fingers were substantial in filling you somewhat.

"Shhhhh," Ganondorf hushed your seizing frame. A hand came to your thigh, his thumb stroking in soothing circles the same time his opposite finger exited you, "Relax, my va'ina, you'll need to be much more open if you plan to take me." Your body shudders as you breathe, willing yourself to relax yourself in his ministrations. Having already gave you some slickness there, his finger meets less resistance than normal. His eyes roam your figure slowly, watching all of the small shivers and shakes that begin to build as his digit steadily works in and out of you. A spark of want pulses up your hips, with each coax of his finger you felt tiny rivulets of desire multiply inside you.

"Ganondorf..." came your gentle plea. This feeling was slowly starting to feel inadequate, your hips moving ever so slightly to try and chase the sensation of fullness. Chuckling at your urgency, the Gerudo chieftain withdraws his finger - adding another and sliding back into you. Eyelashes aflutter, you mewl at the sensation of being filled once more.

"There we are," he mused, smirking at the way you're snatching your bottom lip between your teeth. Gradually his fingers stretched you open, separating minutely as he fed your body each stroke. As soon as you had acclimated, you found yourself once again needing more. His hand, though making you feel good, was simply proving not to be enough. Ganondorf recognizes this as your features scrunch with some frustration. You need him, don't you? You need more than just two measly fingers to give you the passion that you seek.

"Your body seeks more than my current attentions I see," he says matter-of-factly, withdrawing his now very wet digits.

You turn your head away to blush, being read like an open book made your body burn with some embarrassment. Yet Ganondorf understood. He lifts your leg by your calf, pressing a kiss into the muscle there. "No worry, I'll give you everything you seek." He sits upright now, towering over your supine frame, a hand at each of your knees. You know what comes next, and though you tremble under him, there's a fire in those eyes of his that keeps you brave. Fingers descend upon his. He catches your gaze, doe-like and nervous, but no sign of withdrawal within them.

"You'll go slow, won't you?" you ask him, your heart mere seconds away from jumping out of your chest. There's an expectation for him to laugh at such an innocent, if not naïve question - but he surprises you when his hand takes your chin between two large fingers and keeps your eyes to his. Softness unlike you've ever seen in him stares back at you. "I wouldn't dream of bringing you harm, va'ina, you're safe with me." His words bring you comfort, allowing you shut your eyes in readied bliss. To reflect this, you spread your legs further apart, "Then I am yours, Ganondorf."

His lips find yours, hungry in its kiss. As his tongue melds against yours, he slips a hand down to grasp himself. You feel the slight shift of his body on yours, strong thighs flush to the backs of yours. He parts from the kiss, though his face remains close, "Ready?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nod. His muscular frame surrounds your body, encasing you in his warmth. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you inhale sharply when he presses into you. Considerable length and girth stretch you far more than his fingers could even attempt. He's slow, methodical in his pace. So much so that he stops, just past the head of him, the second you tense in his arms.

"Breathe..." coaches Ganondorf, his voice showing the tiniest hint of strain. Though shaky, you try to follow his advice, and it calms your body enough for him to advance. Your mouth drops open from the pressure, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as another inch fills you. The man above pecks loving kisses to your face as he sneaks a hand downward. He revels in the pleased gasp you let out when his fingers stroke your sex, "That's it...open up for me..." With him steadily plunging into your depths and the deliberate tease of his hand at your most sensitive area, you recognize that same spark from earlier.

Want. Need.

He slides in further still, about at halfway down the whole of him now. His hand doesn't relent on your flesh, easing over you with the intent to build the ecstasy he knows you're absentmindedly chasing. Ganondorf has every intention to bring you to rapture, but again - at your pace. There's a tremor in your thighs that shakes against his hips, he gives you more of him; but the noise you let out this time is a moan muffled only by the barrier of your bitten lip. He grins at this, supply your body with just a bit more. No reaction this time - you were getting used to him. His fingers stroke you for a few more counts, this being just enough for you to take him all the way to the hilt. You keen slightly, so impossibly full and almost dizzy from how overwhelmingly large he feels inside of you.

"Stay with me, love" he whispers, his opposite thumb stroking your cheek. The deep octave of his voice and the tender caress soothe you enough to lean into his touch. Ganondorf captures your lips once more, this kiss slower than the last. His hips remain still though his tongue ravages your mouth, and it pulls a licentious moan from you; the knowledge of him locked deep inside you as he kisses you so fervently has you yearning for what you know you want most. His mouth moves into your neck, and without hesitation your fingers bury into his fiery mane. There's a slight withdrawal of his hips, and you welcome the feeling now, the minor shift of friction feeding into a feeling at the most basic level of your instincts.

"More," your quivered voice speaks in his ear, "P-Please."

He's touched at your politeness, though it's unnecessary. You are a being to be worshipped in this regard, though you didn't realize it, you would never need to beg from him. Touching his forehead to your own, Ganondorf rumbles deep in his chest, pulling almost all of the way out of you before sliding all the way back in. "Nnngh, yes..." Ah, all he needed to hear. Adept hands place themselves at two points: a fist near your head for steadying, and a hand bracing underneath your back to keep you there. Leisurely, shallow thrusts easily evolved into deep, harder strokes. Your body would transform - blossom from tightly wound and tense to fully open and wanting.

The Gerudo male knows you're fully spellbound by your lovemaking when your nails begin to bite into the muscle of his shoulder blades - a most welcome pinch of pain. He's fully working you into you now, his hips immovable pistons to fuck you fully now. Your sweet and soft moans were climbing in crescendo, his name tumbling in slurred syllables off your honey covered tongue. Unable to stop himself now, Ganondorf growled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling your body as flush to him as he could.

"Ah, ohh, mmf! Ahhhh G-Gan," you whined, clinging to him, "My body's on fire...I nghh I...!"

He feels you tightening around him, his pants are harsh as they dampen your skin, "Let it happen...let me have all of you." With only a few strokes of him you fall apart in a scream, your body winding up impossibly tight and then loosening entirely. The orgasmic pulse of your slickness around him milks him with an ungodly grip. He fucks you as fast as your body will allow, a few resounding claps against your flesh combining with the cries of your slight overstimulation that finally bring him to his own end. His strong fingers dig into you as he cums, hot and fast, in a wildly indecent roar. Your hands hold him in his place on your body, welcoming every drop of the licentious liquid that he spills inside of you. His hips begin to slow, still sliding in and out of your now sopping hole, and though you were already long finished, you moan at the sensation of his cock pulsing and feeding your body even now.

When he finally can take no more, he pulls from you entirely in a rough grunt. You feel the weeping of his seed from your entrance, but you are far too exhausted to care. Your body hums in pleasured bliss, but your limbs, so worn from a use you'd yet to experience until today, feel akin to lead. Never an issue, however, as Ganondorf carefully maneuvers you both so you can rest comfortably: with you at his side. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your body in silence, your hand and head rest at his chest.

"Gan...?" your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes lazily move to you. Your heart flutters with candid bravery, "...I love you."

He smiles at this. Fitting words for a connection as deep as this. His hand covers your head, pressing you closer to his chest in a protective maneuver. Ganondorf is anything but vulnerable...but even a man as mighty as he isn't incapable of feeling.

"You have my heart, va'ina. You are mine as I am yours."

You hum contentedly, happy to fall asleep in the arms of the man who loved you.

#He's evil as all hell - but he can have a tender moment in time #as a treat #this is NOT beta read #legend of zelda #legend of zelda: tears of the kingdom #totk #tears of the kingdom #loz: totk #ganondorf #totk ganondorf #ganondorf x reader #x reader #tears of the kingdom fanfiction #totk fanfic #ganondorf imagines #ganondorf smut #nws #n$fw #first time #gender neutral reader

[shit-sorry-fuck-mybad]

Slider has always known, Slider has eyes and a functioning enough brain to realize that Ice is completely obsessed with Maverick, Slider knows things, he’s the guy that’s always there

The first time they properly met Maverick Slider could already tell that he would be a pain in his ass, Ice started that flirty teasing, Slider knew that Ice meant for it to sound mean, he wanted to rile him up and play his game, but something about it was just off, the tension was way too thick for it to go unnoticed, he always wandered if Goose could feel it too. Still, he didn’t say anything, Ice could figure it out later

The bite was just unnecessary, Slider could tell that Mav was just as invested in this as his pilot was, they were dancing around each other like a weird fucking mating ritual, then Ice decides to do a bite, he obviously meant for it to be threatening, he knows that, but to Slider it just looked really gay, but he doesn’t bring it up, he shouldn’t bring it up, right? Ice trusts him. He still tries to push it, he asks him if he’s ok, that he needs to be careful and concentrate on their goal, Ice looks at him like he’s trying to figure something out, he turns and says “don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing”

He does not in fact not what he’s doing, he catches feelings, it’s not just attraction, it’s not about sex, no, Ice cares about Maverick, Slider sees it in the way that he looks at him, he sees how much Ice wants to comfort Mav, how he looks at him when they get in their planes, how he tries to make sure he’s ok, that he’s safe, he cares, not just as a pilot

They make it back and Ice and Mav get worse, he truly didn’t think it was possible, “you can be my wingman any time” “bullshit you can be mine” that shit might as well be a love confession, and Slider realizes that it’s not just Ice that caught feeling, they’re both in love. But they don’t talk about it, Slider doesn’t bring it up, Ice will tell him, he knows that when he’s ready he’ll tell him

Slider is getting tired of waiting, it’s been about five years since they graduated top gun and Slider is getting really tired of this bullshit, sometimes Ice can’t hang out because he needs to “do something” Slider thinks that’s a weird nickname for Mav, sometimes when they all get together Ice will sit next to Mav, close enough so that their shoulders touch and they’ll spend the night talking to each other, laughing at secret jokes and looking at each other like they’re the most precious thing they’ve ever seen, Slider decides that he’s limiting the time Ice has to finally tell him, he really can’t take more of this “we think we’re great at keeping secrets” little act

A year later Slider has had a enough, Ice is buying groceries and Slider goes with him and when he sees Ice pick up some disgustingly sweet cookies he knows something’s up, Ice doesn’t like those cookies, so he asks, and Ice casually says “oh, Mav loves them” and he snaps, this cannot keep going, so he grabs him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye and tells him “I swear to god… I swear to fucking god Kazansky that if you don’t tell me that you’re fucking Maverick then I’m going to walk away and you’ll never hear from me again, I’ve had 6 years of you two being all stupid and in love and I have reached my limit, why won’t you fucking tell me, just tell me, please” Ice freezes, he opens and closes his mouth several times before he takes a deep breath, nods and shrugs “I’m fucking Maverick” Slider let’s out a sigh and pulls Ice into a hug “thank god for that” and it’s finally over

It’s not over, Slider soon finds out that knowing about Ice and Mav without them knowing that he knows is way better than knowing about them and them knowing he knows, because now he actually has to play “best friend of your boyfriend”, he’s the guy Mav asks what to get Ice for his birthday, he’s the guy that Ice whines to about Mav, he’s the guy that has lied countless times for their asses, he’s the guy that needs to be there when Ice wants to propose, he’s the guy that has to endure hours of ring shopping with an insufferably nervous Ice, he’s the guy that has to execute their proposal plan to perfection, yes, even when Ice decides to change it last minute, he’s the guy that needs to make sure that their little backyard wedding is absolutely perfect, he’s the guy that has to write the greatest best man speech anyone has ever heard, he’s the guy that has to give all his parenting advices to Ice when Bradley comes into their lives, he’s the guy that has to tell Bradley all the embarrassing stories about them, he’s the guy that has to help Bradley sneak out of their house to go to a party, he’s the guy that has to be there for Ice when Bradley leaves, he’s the guy that has to help Mav deal with Ice’s cancer, he’s the guy that hugs Ice until neither of them can breath when he’s officially cancer free, he’s the guy that has to give an even better best man speech when they get married again, legally this time, he’s the guy that cries his eyes out when Ice gets his second diagnosis, he’s the guy that holds his hand when he’s dying, he’s the guy that has to be there at the funeral to make sure everything’s in order, just like Ice would’ve wanted it, he’s the guy that has to shake hands with people he doesn’t know because “yes he was a great guy”, he’s the guy that has to make sure Mav is alright after Ice is gone

He’s the guy, he’s always known and he’s always been there

#can you tell I love Slider #because I love slider #and I love his friendship with Ice #also I don’t mean for this to get so long I just had a thought and had to get it out #icemav #tom kazansky #slider #ron slider kerner #Pete Mitchell #top gun #iceman and slider #sad shit #I ALSO DIDNT MEAN FOR IT TO GET SAD #just my thoughts #this isn’t a fic I can’t write fics this is just a long post #falling in love from a friends perspective is my favorite thing in the world

[katasstrophy]

STAY—

cw. spoilers for tokyo rev manga ending. mikey x gn! reader. angst w/ happy ending. swearing + bit suggestive at the end. i’m oh so in my feels about him, my forever man <3

currently sobbing over the thought of you finding manjiro in every single timeline – except for the last, true one.

you find him, always, when the worst has already befallen him and he’s haunted by it, knee-deep in the gore of his own inky dark, impulsive thoughts that suck him in like a chasm, the self-promised responsibility of keeping everyone that’s still alive and precious to him out of harm’s way weighing his entire skeleton down. a shadow of a man, he is, the beginning of something truly monstrous, when you find him. and yet, you don’t shy away. you do something even worse, what he thought unthinkable – you stay.

he is not kind to you. far from it, however much his behaviour shames him and coats the walls of his stomach sticky with guilt. he lashes out at you, calls you cruel words he doesn’t take back even though he never means them. he pushes, and pushes, and pushes you away where he thinks he can finally keep you out beyond the electric wire wrapped around his heart – both to protect himself and to make him bleed. he makes you cry – your tears a waterfall of genuine hurt, carving their path over and over on your reddened cheeks. and yet, you’re stubborn, and you stay. you tell him he’s a fucking asshole for upsetting you, that he was never popular with girls, was he? that what he’s doing is not okay, and for all the life of you, you’ll probably never fully understand what he went through, but you know he’s hurt beyond words. you tell him you feel it, his suffering, so very obviously from just a single look into those dead fish eyes of his – what colour even are they? – so he can be a pissy little baby about it, but you’ve planted your fucking feet and you fear they’ve already taken root so he might as well make his peace with your presence, because you’re not going anywhere.

you linger. you flutter about, like some otherworldly, soothing-balm butterfly. you follow, even though he hasn’t had the desire to go anywhere for a long, long time. you stay, and suddenly it’s a little easier to breathe. he breathes, takes huge gulps of air into his lungs in what feels like ages, and tastes the salt of the breeze nipping at the tip of his tongue. suddenly, he can stomach looking at a sunrise again without wanting to crush something under his palm. an emptiness still clangs inside of him like a great gong that, even if you wanted to fill, you’d be unable to. but even those wounds have dulled from an ache to a throb, because now there’s you – a great, roaring, raging fire. you, who doesn’t give him the luxury of taking his hand, but instead beckon and beckon until he grits his teeth rising from his knees to his feet to reach for and accept your warmth. now, it’s not so dark anymore. now, there are some good days in between the bad and the really bad ones. sometimes, he even smiles. rarely, he laughs, rusty like an old faucet, smoky like a burning house, a weak imitation of his past joy. but still, he laughs, and you’re there to hear it and grin back.

mikey wishes your murmured words and soft caresses against the hard planes of his skin could have cured the unfixable black hole festering in his soul. he wishes your kisses could have sucked out the uncontrollable evil within him, swallow it whole and breathe it out as carbon dioxide, as harmless, used-up, recycled air, because he’s convinced you’re an angel with a touch that turns everything – both splendid and foul – golden. you’re an angel that was meant to show him there’s still good in the world, maybe even in him, but you were never meant to save him. fate’s cruel like that. he was always meant to be saved by another, for everything to come full circle, but he wishes all the same it could have been you.

when takemichi tells him everything – the time leaping and the curse on him – when he goes through another awful, roach-like existence and learns of sinichiro’s sacrifice, the catalyst of everything; when he finally gets the chance to make and do it right with all the knowledge of how to, when he’s grown up and successful with all his friends flushed with health and happy by his side – he remembers you. he finally, finally remembers you. how you met him, always, when he was drowning, and stayed and made him want to thrash and wade to the surface so he could share the same breath as you. he cries – the waterfall of his tears carving a path into his cheeks, at what you did for him, over and over again. the life you offered instead of the plain drifting he was stuck in. and manjiro decides you’ve fought enough. you’ve done more than enough.

so this time, he finds you.

he searches, picks apart the whole city, until he finds you. you don’t remember him, but that’s okay, because he remembers you, and he’s not going anywhere. you’re still so lovely, so golden, appreciative of his advances even though he knows he must come off as strong so early, but you laugh and tell him you find it refreshing. charming, if not a little confusing. and he laughs back this time, fizzy like a bubble bath and rumbling like a fireplace. mikey tells you he wants to stay, with you, so earnestly it strikes you that you might know him, after all. you don’t tell him that, of course, because it’s a bit silly of you, isn’t it?

(you tell him – ask him – later, when he’s been yours for years, when he’s put a ring on your finger and you took his last name. you ask him, after both of your breathings have calmed from a night of pleasurable tangling in the sheets. you ask him, enamoured and so, so in love with him, if he believes in past lives, because you’re so sure of it that he was meant for you. and your husband merely smiles like he’s privy to all the knowledge in the world. he kisses your knuckles sunlight-soft and tells you you were destined for each other from the very start. it leaves a gasp frozen in your throat and a thrill skittering down your spine that makes you want to ravish him once more.)

but that comes later. for now, it’s still a little silly, no matter how adamant this handsome man seems about courting you. so you smile and dip your chin in a bashful nod and say that you’d very much like for him to stay. so manjiro does. he stays by your side and lives the life he was always meant to, with you.

#tumblr let me post this challenge 🙏 #i wrote this yesterday at 1am bc he makes me insane so yep that’s the vibe pls be kind lmao <3 and enjoy! #—riv.fic! #mikey x reader #sano manjiro x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #mikey x you #mikey x y/n #sano manjiro x y/n #sano manjiro x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x y/n #mikey angst #sano manjiro angst

[writersdare]

All Too Well | Calum Hood

Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader (she/her)

Summary: It's the first time ever when Calum and Y/N didn't need to be apart, as they were going on tour together. However, things could never just be perfect, could they?

Warning: angst, fluff, a bit of cursing

Word Count: 1 725

Requested: yes

Author’s Note: This was the one I worked really hard to make it softer than it initially was. It'd say it's more of an angst story still, however, not too heavy, and there are sweet moments, too ♡ Inspired by Taylor Swift's short film "All Too Well". I hope you'll like it!

It almost felt like Christmas, when Y/N and Calum took a seat next to each other in the plane. It was the first time when the girl was going on tour with him, and both were very excited.

Cal was really glad they finally managed to go together, they didn’t need to be separated for so long again. 

Y/N could compare it with a miracle, truly. The last month was very stressful, as she had to do a lot at work before getting a remote project. At some point Y/N even doubted she was going to finish everything in time. However, there she was, holding a hand in Calum’s, while he was quietly sleeping on her shoulder. There was no need to be homesick, because Cal’s home was right next to him. And Y/N didn’t need to learn how to live alone again, because she was in the company of a loved one.

Sometimes “too perfect” could bring unexpected problems. It couldn’t all go smoothly. The musician wasn’t exactly a pessimist, but he always agreed with that way of Y/N’s thinking. 

However, Calum didn’t exactly expect his girl to blow up easily only because he didn’t pay much of attention to her after a concert. For Cal it wasn’t a big deal. Once they finished the performance, everyone went to have dinner in their dressing room, not being able to wait for any longer and go to some restaurant nearby. It was a usual evening, chatting with the bandmates and discussing how good the concert was. Y/N was happy that fans were welcoming and active during the whole show, and of course, she could share the joy of her boyfriend, but it still felt slightly uncomfortable. Even though they started dating a while ago, Y/N didn’t know Calum’s friends well. She surely didn’t mind him spending time with them, but the girl hoped for some little reassurance here and there; after all, it was the first time, when she went on tour. Few attempts to join the conversation were interrupted by her own boyfriend, and Y/N’s mood went down completely. Yet, she stayed polite and kept smiling lightly, ignoring unpleasant feelings inside. The girl didn’t ask for much, she only hoped Cal would stop making her feel that dumb, would stop as if reminding her that she didn’t belong there. As if she wasn’t there at all, even when Y/N tried to touch Calum’s palm. She wasn’t begging for attention, the girl only thought that as she came with him, they’d spend more time together. Wasn’t it the point? All of sudden Y/N felt like a mannequin which Cal would look at only when he needed it. 

“You just walked in the room and behaved as if I wasn’t there!”

Y/N tried. She really tired. The girl promised herself she wouldn’t make a scene, she wouldn’t argue, because it was a very wrong place and time. However, Calum brought up the topic himself, saying she was “hell annoying” and looked “weirdly upset.”

“I was fucking tired! Exhausted, Y/N! I didn’t mean anything, I was just hanging out with my friends!” Cal blew up immediately, although by nature he was pretty calm. “I’d look at you if you’d jump around, sing for few hours, Y/N. Would you have powers for anything else after it?” the guy run a hand through his hair and sighed heavily, apparently analysing what he had just said.

Calum used to say he valued words a lot, the musician hated when people would tell things they didn’t actually mean. He never rushed up to answer on the interviews; Cal liked to think first, before saying anything, completely anything. Perhaps, that’s why sudden accusations shocked Y/N that much. If he said it, he probably really meant it, and that was quite upsetting. The girl never even dared to think that Calum wasn’t a hard worker or that his job wasn’t difficult. Of course, it was, and she knew it very well. That’s why Y/N was always there, supporting him no matter what. And yet, she couldn’t get the connection between him acting like a moron during the dinner and blaming her for saying he wasn’t tired. She never even said it.

“You know what? Back off," after a short pause Y/N realised that she was too overwhelmed to continue arguing. These past days were rather exhausting, the trip, so far, was very stressful as there were too many unknown faces, and Cal’s words didn’t exactly make the girl feel any better.

“Y/N…”

“No, Cal, you’re right," she nodded, being dangerously calm.

The girl grabbed a bag and threw a phone in there. Y/N wasn’t going to leave, it’d be too immature of her, but she desperately needed fresh air and time alone at that moment. Lately it was getting harder to breathe, and she finally admitted that she was simply choking. Being busy with tour and job issues the girl didn’t have time to check on herself. For some reason, Calum didn’t see it either, apparently, he was busy working, as well. She knew how it could be, so the girl wasn’t blaming him. At times Cal couldn’t take care even of himself. 

"How would I know? You’re the only one who works hard," Y/N snapped, regretting she took that hell of a project at first place just to be closer to Cal. What for? Surely, emotions were speaking at that moment, and sometimes it was very hard to gain control of them. Suddenly nothing was working anymore, their relationship included.

“I didn’t mean it this way," Calum’s voice became small, too. He gently touched the girl’s wrist with his fingers, and felt a little relief, as Y/N didn’t attempt to break the touch. However, her eyes didn’t give him any hope.

“No, you did.”

“No, I didn’t," he hurried up to deny. "Look, I’m just stressed, I swear I…" her hand slipped through his fingers, and Y/N headed to the exit of the dressing room. "I know you’re… Y/N, c’mon! Don’t do this right now!" Cal outraged. "We’re trying to talk, and you’re running away again!"

"It’s you, who is trying to talk, Calum!" the girl turned around quickly, hoping her body wouldn't betray, and salty tears wouldn’t flow down the cheeks. "You can’t even understand me! I worked as hard as you to get here at first place! I don’t mind you hang out with friends and have a rest after the concerts, but since the day one of the tour you’ve never asked how I was feeling! I don’t even know these people! They are total strangers to me," she finally broke in tears. Cal didn’t dare to touch her and only watched from the distance. "And this evening I only asked for a small reassurance, I wanted to feel that you’re here with me, because I don’t feel damn comfortable here, I need time! And now you make me feel like a total dickhead for asking that, because you are damn tired, because you had a show to perform! Maybe it was a bad idea to come with you at first place. It could have been totally different," she shook the head and looked down, wiping the tears with her fingers quickly.

A storm was attacking inside, Cal wanted to say a lot, but words got stuck in his throat.

"I had no idea," he finally mumbled, feeling rather ashamed. "This tour… is really important to me," the musician continued, even though everything didn’t seem to have any sense once he spoke it out loud. "I was too focused on work, but it doesn’t mean I forgot about you, Y/N," Cal made a step forward and reached out to her uncertainly. The fingertips didn’t touch hers, he was waiting for the girl to do it instead, if she wanted to. Or waiting to give him a sign that he was allowed to.

The girl closed the eyes for a moment and shook the head negatively. She touched a handle of the bag to avoid Calum’s sudden affection. 

"I know it’s hard for both of us," she spoke up quietly. "But we need to learn how to understand each other, and I’m tired of being the only one who is trying to do that. Relationships don’t work this way."

"I know. I fucking know," he lost it, made a step forward and squeezed Y/N in his arms, resting a head on her shoulder. For that Cal had to bend down a little, but it was worth it. "I’m sorry."

A heavy sigh left Y/N’s lips. She looked up on the ceiling, hoping to stop herself from crying again. Just some time ago Calum was behaving like a sick superstar, and now he was asking for forgiveness. Why was it always like a seesaw with him? And why did she still love him?

The girl closed the eyes and tilted her head to touch the top of his with a tip of a nose. Cal smelled with berries – a shampoo she bought him few days before the very first tour. Since that time she was always doing it, and Calum was always taking the black jar with blueberries on the cover with him. Funny, that smell reminded him of her. And to Y/N that smell reminded her of them. Them, being together, happy, in love.

"I love you," she whispered, feeling that sudden wave of affection after a long day and bitter argument that left a small but still a wound on the heart.

"I love you more," he whispered back and hid the face in a crotch of her neck, leaving then a short kiss on her skin. 

The touch was too familiar to give up on everything they went through. Calum knew he needed to keep in mind that the tour was going to be be different, as his girl was there. He needed to give Y/N time, as it wasn’t normal for her as for him, who has been performing since a young age.

"I know I didn’t give you the best tour experience so far," Cal whispered in her ear after a long silence. "But, please, let me try again."

taglist: @dgrangaa, @gracieboogirl

– gifs aren’t mine and belong to the rightful owner, found the 1st one here @uservalentine & the 2nd one here @carriedawayfromhome –

© writersdare | all rights reserved

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

#calum hood #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #5sos angst #calum hood imagine #5sos x reader #5sos fic #Calum Hood angst #Calum Hood x reader #Calum Hood x y/n #Calum 5 seconds of summer #Calum 5sos #Calum 5sauce #writersdare #writersdare Calum 5sos #calum hood fluff

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

ROUND 2 MATCH 60

Saeran propaganda:

"He's a very gentle young man born into miserable circumstances who learns what freedom and autonomy mean to him after far too long of being everyone else's punching bag. He goes from desperation, subservience, and self-loathing to blind rage to become the biggest threat in the room, all in the name of self-preservation in an environment that wants to destroy him. But with a support system that challenges his programmed thought processes, he learns to see past the lies and coercion and begins his recovery journey with his beloved partner and dear twin brother. He loves flowers and knows most of their meanings (he WILL gift bouquets of them to share those captivating messages), he's an excellent chef, and he is an entirely devoted partner who sees his beloved MC as the light that helped guide him onto his path to recovery. He genuinely loves his MC in a way that the other characters of Mystic Messenger suggest transcends the notion of romance. He's ethereal; he's on a different plane of love. He is the very essence of love. He will risk his all... risk everything in the name of love."

Nakedtoaster propaganda:

“First off we love he/they icons. He's very silly but he's also extremely smart and sweet. They care about their friends deeply and they're always conscious of when a joke is going too far and needs to stop. He's so sweet and cute and it's so impossibly easy to make them blush theyre truly a dork. Also did you know if you create a ffxiv account you can play up to level 70 for free?!”

“A tall gentle giant that somehow thrives at being both silly goofy AND incredibly brilliant. They're always #downtoclown and they have a good sense of humor but he's also attentive, caring and kind, likes to spend quality time chatting and having some deep conversation (if he thinks something upsets, he always checks in to make sure you're doing okay). They coded a complex text-based CRPG that responds in real time to player input, and eventually they got their own company. They're CEO and care about their company and employees, so much that he's really conflicted about selling the organization, because it feels like it's his baby (his words). He balances work, gaming and socialization in the server. In their route, they get adorably flustered but make sure to let the player know that they're into it and absolutely reciprocate, and after their ending (which is very emotionally charged and high stakes scenario) they literally go "Fuck it" and profess love to the player even though they haven't known each other for long, because they mutually relate and empathize with each other's struggles (player character also is in a tense work environment and trying to manage expectations). He has gorgeous pink hair that he lets the player braid, he won't lose any opportunity to promote the critically acclaimed MMORPG FFXIV, he's the sweetest cutest person, and perhaps most importantly, he looks great in cat ears headband <3”

#Either way I lose </3 #saeran choi #unknown mystic messenger #ray mystic messenger #Mystic Messenger #Mysme #Nakedtoaster #nakedtoaster blooming panic #blooming panic #Bloomic #Round 2 #MDDC 2

[keresnotceres]

MW2 CHARACTERS: as Lovers (explained through songs)

[sfw] cw(s): lyrics/themes of death, mentions of abuse/ghost's past, brief mentions of sex

i spent an embarrassing amount of time on this, so enjoy it lol.

Ghost is disastrously Everlong (Foo Fighters). The genuine emotion that song manages to evoke in me is painful and refreshing at the same time — that’s the type of feeling Simon “Ghost” Riley exudes.

As a lover; he’s very distant at first. He refuses to become more attached to you than he already is — convinced he’s going to lose you too (or, worse, become his father). It very likely takes him years to truly open up to you about everything, and when you don’t stop loving him, he never want to leave your side. Ghost likely feels like he is never going to do enough for you until the two of you finally have that unbreakable connection, and then he finds himself to be everything you could ever need through your actions/words.

The instrumental sections, especially the part that emulates the opening of the song after the second chorus. The change from strong drums and electric guitar to the simple bass line and indistinguishable radio chatter that slowly ramp up into the loudness again is so goddamn emotional. If that isn’t Ghost then I don’t know what else is.

Ghost is one of the most tragic characters in MW2, Everlong has an incredibly emotional tone that perfectly captures the feeling of tragedy, something Ghost has been through countless times. This heavily reflects in his romantic relationships.

Lyrics such as “Come down and waste away with me” and “If everything could ever be this real forever / If anything could ever be this good again” are so Ghost coded, especially when it would come to your relationship.

Gaz has intense Die For You (The Weeknd) energy. Do I really have to explain? (Yes the fuck I do) Gaz is absolutely smitten with you, there's no damn doubt, and he will express it to you in any possible way he can, even if the two of you are in a rough patch.

Gaz is likely very in tune to his emotions, but that doesn't mean he can express them that easily. That being said, the one thing he can express without a hitch is his devotion and love for you. It doesn't matter how long he spends away from you, how long it's been since he last spoke to you, the first words out of his mouth upon seeing you are "I love you." There is nothing in the mortal plane that could stop him from loving you, he would do fucking anything to be able to be yours and have you be his. However, he finds issue in communicating issues he has, whether it be ones to do with the relationship or outside of it.

He has a need to be in control of the emotional state he's in, which makes a relationship with him a bit difficult. He'll do his best to change how you feel about something just to make it match his, or he'll try to mold a situation into something it's not so that he can find a way through it without making himself vulnerable.

The background music of Die For You manages to be something playable in a club, but emotional at the same time, which is rather conflicting when it comes to trying describe it. But that makes it utterly perfect to describe Gaz with.

"The distance and the time between us / It'll never change my mind" has major Gaz vibes due to the obvious divide between the two of you whenever he's deployed, but also because there's sometimes going to be an emotional distance between the two of you if he finds he can't communicate his.

Soap is so RUNNING OUT OF TIME (Tyler, The Creator) coded you gotta believe me here. I find Soap to be subdued when it comes to you; the military aggression he can be so capable of slips away when it comes to love you. This is why I chose this song instead of the other IGOR songs.

I see Soap as someone who gets into a relationship quickly so that they don't get bored of being in a "talking stage." Soap often feels that you'll get bored of him, especially when his thoughts slip to you when he's deployed. He's not home as often as another man could be, he can't spend all the time in the world with you -- he's always so scared that he'll come home to any empty flat after you left, too bored of being alone. Due to this fear, Soap tries him damn best to show off just how much he loves you any time he can, he becomes so involved with you he almost has nothing else in his life happening except for you.

Very much intense in his loving, would probably do anything you asked of him, and years of reliance on others in the military has left him needing that energy reciprocated. There's a sense of security he feels knowing that you would do what he would do for you.

I feel like the instrumental sections of the song are reminiscent of Soap's personality when he's with you. He doesn't have to be calm and militaristic, but he doesn't have to play up the energetic part of him. With you, he's able to be genuinely happy and has a somewhat bubbly go-with-the-flow disposition . The electric synth-y sounds of the outro and breaks between verses showcase this type of feeling very fell.

"Your waves wash over me / I drift to the deep end" is a really representative pair of lyrics for Soap, he's just in love with you that he's willing to go to the farthest lengths for you.

Price probably looks like he should be some 80s love song, and he does, but I am a firm believer that he is a Florence + The Machine song, specifically her cover of Stand By Me (a song from 1962). Price is likely more emotional around you than his boys, so you get to see a softer, probably sadder version of him.

Emotionally matured in his years of military service, and it shows in the way he loves you. He adores being domestic with and for you; just waking up in bed to you sound asleep next to him is enough for to make him happy. Likes to be by your side, holding you. It's comforting to him to know that you're there, to know he's there with you, and that he's surviving for you. Price lives for you because he knows that his death would be a devastation to you, the same way your death would hurt him irreversibly. To Price, you are home and you are safety. Coming back to you after being gone for months is one of the best feelings he has ever felt.

He's very work-oriented, almost to the point that, if he's exhausted enough, he might treat you as if you were one of his soldiers. It doesn't take him long to realize what he's doing, and he'll feel extremely guilty after it (even if you assure him it's alright). He'll let you take care of him after this, you can convince him to rest because he feels too bad to say no to you.

Florence's version of the song is much more orchestral than the original version, a harp is one of the first things you hear, along with other string instruments. It's flowy, almost water-like, and most of all, calming; it feels like a falling asleep with the window open on an autumn night, which fits Price immaculately well. The swell in the music is even calming to some degree. The amount of emotion in the song makes it all the more loving.

"I won't be afraid / Just as long as you stand, stand by me," demonstrates the comfort that he feels with you, how you are the one thing that he can rely on to be safe.

Alejandro would've been Lorde coded, but you guys have to hear me out on this one. This man is the epitome of That's All (Kris Jonathon). Alejandro is devoted to you in every sense of the word, he is so utterly in love with you that he is yours.

Alejandro is, and always has been, a lover at his core. He's charming and affectionate to everyone; but god, when he has you in his arms, it's like you're the only thing that has ever existed. His love for you runs deeper than the oceans, it's sometimes so intense it's overwhelming, but you always know that Alejandro loves you. He always finds a way to make you feel seen, feel loved. Alejandro makes an effort for you, even if he's tired and overwhelmed. His job inhibits his ability to see and live with you all the time, so he often finds himself thinking about a future with you, when he's retired from the military, and can be by your side far into old age.

Despite his openness in loving you, Alejandro is likely another person who despises being vulnerable in other states. Sure, he can tell you how much he loves you with ease, but he couldn't tell you how tired or depressed he was. But sometimes, Alejandro will let you in a little further and whisper to you how much he wants to be by your side always, and that leaving you behind with the possibility of leaving you behind is harrowing to him.

That's All is slow, it's a ballad, it's about wanting a fairy tale love story, and god does the slow background music with the overpowering hi-tat give me major Alejandro vibes. It's passionate, the instruments and the lyrics that accompany them, and it makes for a loving sounding song that encapsulates Alejandro's style of loving you.

"I want a tale, a giddy after with you," Alejandro wants a life with you, he wants to live with you by his side until he no longer can, which the lyric, "Till death's kiss, I'll promise you this," shows. Alejandro will always be with you until death takes parts the two of you forever.

Rudy is easily Fantasy (Kali Uchis, Don Toliver) and I will not be taking any comments, complaints, or concerns. If you think for a second that Rudy is not an intense and loving partner, you are so so so wrong and I am here to prove it to you.

Rudy is one to love you like no one can touch you ever again, he knows full well that you are his. He wouldn't go so far as to say he owns you, but he knows that you wouldn't say a word against it if he said you belonged to him. This possessive part of him is usually choked down and he's often much more passive to you and everybody around. He's honestly rather sweet, often calling you a nickname or a pet name instead of your name, but you can always see something a bit more passionate in his eyes when he looks at you. He has eyes for no one else, he loves you too much to even think about someone else in the ways he thinks of you.

He tends to idly enjoy your presence, his thoughts stray quite a bit when you aren't there, oddly enough. When you're there, he just wants to be with you, not an imaginative version of you. Holding you close is something he treasures, sexually or otherwise, he likes having you near him and often never wants to let go.

The background music begins with a rather calm piano, which is basically the impression you get upon looking at Rudy for the first time, but the upbeat rhythm that follows it is more representative of Rudy's way of loving you and what it's often like with him.

"I belong to you / Know you're all mine too," is the only lyric I need to pull from the song to push my agenda onto you. Your relationship is built off of knowing that the two of you are each others, Rudy relishes in this knowledge.

Valeria is literally the embodiment of Summertime Sadness (Lana Del Rey). You can scream and cry but Valeria is so LDR coded and I will die on this hill. The nature of her work really makes it unpredictable to know if she'll come home to you, so the two of you live your lives like you're about to break up but god do the two of you love each other.

It took her so damn long to admit it and understand that she loves you, but once she did, everything was for you. She lives for you, she breathes for you, because you're all the good the world has left for her, and she'll keep an iron grip on you until you're ripped away from her. Valeria knows that one day, she likely will leave you on your own, so she lives every single day with you as if its the last. Even if it's a small day, where you just live with one another, there's always a feeling of longing between you two.

Something hat Valeria will likely never get to have is a wedding with you. She knows, deep down, that marrying you is putting an even larger target on your back, but that won't ever stop her from wanting you to be more than just her lover, wanting to be more than simply dating you.

The slow drums in the background accompanied by the soft strings and guitar during the verses and choruses have a longing feelings attached to them, which gives way to the way Valeria feels about your relationship. There's always longing between you even if she's right by your side.

Lyrics that particularly scream Valeria and your relationship with her include, "I know if I go, I'll die happy tonight," "I just wanted you to know / that baby, you the best," and "Like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky." All of these have a feeling that any of the above paragraphs explained, but they're also pretty self explanatory.

#cod headcanons #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #john mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #gaz mw2 #ghost mw2 #price mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 2022 #alejandro cod #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 x reader #soap mactavish x reader #rudy x reader #rudy mw2 #rodolfo x reader #valeria mw2 #valeria garza x reader

[onboardsorasora]

50. Disney Princess Film AU from this prompt list

No one prompted me for this– BUT I’d been talking about this with @purplesallthewaydown and then it was there as a prompt. So El, clearly I need to unleash this into the world.

Enchanted AU lets go– please….suspend EVERY disbelief you have. This will not make sense lmao

Daniel is Giselle, he’s in Monaco from the fairy tail land of Perth. He got here because he was driving around in his truck, singing a happy song and following a horse that just wanted to run and they ended up at the airport. The birds told him that the planes make humans fly like them and he thought that was as good an idea as any.

So he’s in Monaco, he’d been walking around, bumping into things because he’s doing tourist thing where you look up instead of in front of you. He comes to the pier and he’s tired, the birds in Monaco aren’t as helpful as the birds back home and he wants to go home. He’s singing an almost sad song and bumps into Max who is doing his normal daily run. They fall to the ground, Max atop Daniel naturally.

They’re both stunned, surprised, speechless. Max scrambles up and helps Daniel to his feet.

“Are you ok? Did I hurt you?” Max is checking Daniel over, making sure his oversized sweatshirt maybe didn’t get ripped or his knees didn’t get skinned since he’s wearing tiny shorts. He clocks the bright tattoos on Daniel’s thigh, maybe they glow a little with Daniel’s inner Disney Princess happiness?

“I’m ok. I just don’t know where I am.” Daniel smiles sheepishly, embarrassed. He hadn’t been able to find many other wild animals and the birds really weren’t helpful here.

“Oh? Where are you from?” Max is now concerned, because who truly gets lost nowadays with technology where it was.

“I’m from Perth!” Daniel says proudly, a wide smile on his face. “The birds guided me.”

Did his tattoos glow a little brighter?

“That’s in Australia right?”

Daniel shrugs in a very uncaring way. What did he know about geography when he enjoyed his days basking in the sun by his family’s ranch or hiking in the mountains or by the beach swimming with the mermaids?

Max presses his tongue behind his teeth as he thinks of what to do. Daniel gets distracted by a butterfly and starts following behind it dreamily, maybe she will guide him back home. He almost bumps into another jogger when Max grabs his arm and pulls him back into his space. They both blush.

“I’m Max.”

“Daniel!”

Max takes Daniel home, because it's the only logical next step. He can maybe book him a flight back to Perth if Daniel has no family around. It's a lot in terms of being a good samaritan, but Max is loaded and single and lives alone in the city and a race car driver on time off.

So they're in Max’s flat and he pulls out a laptop to check flights maybe, and gets distracted by Daniel literally curled around Jimmy and Sassy. He was talking to them softly and they were purring up a storm. Max has never seen this happen in his life. Sassy hates people and Jimmy takes 5 business days to allow pets.

He’s floored, flabbergasted, flummoxed. Just who was this guy?

Daniel is supremely happy, Jimmy and Sassy are wonderful hosts. They’ve told him that the birds here are in fact unfriendly, and mean. They told him that Max is wonderful but he’s often not home so they sometimes get lonely, but they’re happy together. So he starts singing to them, a lovely little ditty about nutsacks and ball hair and they cuddle closer to him. His tattoos glow brighter and the ship sails move a little because that's what they do when Daniel is happy.

Max is just staring at this all happening on the floor by his patio doors– what the actual fuck is going on?

So since Daniel is distracted with the cats, Max googles about any magic in Australia. And apparently…there's a lot. It's a utopia for magical creatures and some humans that live there are gifted, it's usually a good way to tell if someone is a good person or not– how strong their aura and aptitude. Considering Daniel was glowing and talking to his fucking cats, Max thinks that an ok sign.

“Uhm, Daniel?”

“Yes Maxy?” Daniel sung back, looking up from the cats.

“How did you get here?”

“Oh! It was like the most amazing thing!” Daniel clambers up and breaks out into song about how he had been gossiping with the horses and alpacas and then they went for a ride and the birds told him about the ‘airport’ which was a very weird place with birds for people. And he got on a big bird plane and fell asleep and got snacks and slept some more.

And while this is happening, Max is sat in his couch wide eyed as this man dances around his apartment, singing. And birds started hovering on his patio, unable to do more because it's screened in. Daniel flutters to a stop on the couch beside him and hugs Max close because he’s so happy and Max has been so nice to him. And his mom said that sometimes people want to try to take advantage of him but Sassy and Jimmy promised that Max is good, and he believes them.

And Max is….poor thing. Max is completely out of his depth. He’s thunderstruck. But there's a part of his brain that wants to keep Daniel, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Part 2

#and Max maybe kinda waffles about buying daniel that ticket home and takes him hiking in the mountains #and daniel is so so happy because the birds up HERE are much nicer and the squirrels and other wildlife and he sings more #and he glows and the animals follow them and Max has to explain to people that this is...normal maybe #writing prompt #but he's SO endeared #disney enchanted au #maxiel #max/daniel

[johnslittlespoon]

i was so excited to listen to glass animal's new song 'creatures in heaven' today and instead my heart has been ripped out because it's so awfully painfully fitting for our mota boys (i'm currently making an angsty heartache–y edit to it lol whoops) BUCKLE UP because i need to yell (and keep scrolling if lyric analysis/song fics aren't your thing <3)

also tumblr keeps screwing with the formatting ignore that pls lol

What do you think about when you think about love? I'm dumbstruck when you're tender, but It's three in the morning, be in the moment It tears through my head, does it haunt you too?

i mean, the imagery. pillow talk, sneaking off base before dawn, vulnerability and raw honesty laying side by side in a field, looking up at the stars and wondering which ones are the people they've lost looking down at them, every peaceful, happy moment laced with the knowledge that so many friends will never get to have another one.

You held me like my mother made me just for you You held me so close that I broke in two

fuck my life. dave bayley count your days. these lines are just so viscerally painful and stunning? john feeling like every core of his being was made to fit gale, like puzzle pieces slotting together, the gaps in his life filled the moment gale enters his orbit. both of them never having experienced being treated so gently and with so much reverence, feeling taken apart and put back together in each other's arms.

You pass through my head, does it haunt you too? Never really said that I loved you, too

heavy on the angst here because this reads like post–war john pov, filled with regrets but plastering on a smile as he watches gale marry someone who isn't him, aching to tell him how he feels but knowing it will only make a mess of things. and more than anything, he wants gale to be happy, and if that means staying quiet and loving him at arm's length, he can do that. but late at night he can't help but wonder if gale ever thinks about what could've been, if all the moments they shared haunt him too.

Lucky, lucky you, 'cause I'm fortune's fool Such small words but they hit so huge

this reminded me of gale's father and his gambling and how despite everything he falls in love with john, a gambling man. such small words (don't count on it) but they mean everything :(

I don't think I realize Just how much I miss you sometimes We were young and so in love

this hurts on SO MANY LEVELS. i immediately read this as curtbucky– john never gets time to grieve, everyone just has to keep trucking on. but sometimes late at night it hits him so hard he feels like he's drowning, realizing how empty of a space curt's left, how much he truly loved him, the first person to make him feel that way.

but also can be read as buckbucky, both of them properly feeling the emptiness of not being by each other's sides for the first time before they reunite at the stalag, maybe both having a feelings–realization moment when they're hit with how wrong everything feels when they're apart.

or, post–war, john aching for gale and wishing on everything that he can just fall out of love. he knew that it would be hard, going back home and going their separate ways, even with the promise to stay in contact, but it's so much harder than he ever could have imagined.

Three in the morning, safe inside Bury me here in your laundry pile

ouch ouch ouch. a few images: john seeking out one of gale's worn shirts after his plane goes down, falling asleep with it pressed to his chest in his bed. or john stealing one of gale's shirts before they all go back home post–war, shoving it to the bottom of his suitcase, sleeping with it every night despite the way his stomach turns, feeling hollowed out as the smell of him slowly fades away. or, john staying at gale and marge's house for the wedding, having a breakdown the night after, finding himself on the floor of their laundry room at three am, curling up in a pile of dirty laundry just to feel close to gale one last time before he goes home in the morning.

I don't see the point in a subtle romance Ten tonne heartache sitting on your back

john is so all or nothing with love; when he's in, he's in, barrelling full speed ahead, giving it all up for his person. maybe the secrecy when they first start seeing each other is okay at first, little midnight rendezvous, but he craves more, he wants a future with gale so badly, he wants a house and a wedding and kids and a dog and sitting side by side on a porch at eighty years old. but he knows that gale is giving him all that he can right now, and it's better than nothing, so even though he wants so much more, he'll settle.

Scared of the crack where the light comes through I'm only really me when I'm here with you

ughhh both of them being so scared to be really seen by someone that it's terrifying how quickly they grow close. that nauseating feeling you get right after opening up to someone for the first time, the feeling of holding your breath waiting for rejection– but it never comes. they accept each other with open arms and patience and unconditional love and they show each other what it's like to be able to be so fully unapologetically real with someone for the first time. a shell of themselves when they aren't together, like they're missing one half, and it's so obvious that everyone around can see it. they share the same name for a reason.

And it gets into your head like a cosmic zoom Coat on the door like an old space suit So long cowboy, you're so cool Cash in hand with a memory of you

okay, ngl this just made me think of john ditching his coat that gale hates– even in the heat of going up on a mission, it's still in his head, enough to go through the motion of swapping it out. so long cowboy just sounds like something sweet he and curt would've said to each other honestly; thinking about john saying it again when he looks up at the stars the night he finds out curt didn't make it.

cash in hand with a memory of you? come onnn it's literally the lucky deuce. may as well have just slapped that bit of the song behind the scene of gale going through his belongings when he makes it back to base, picking up the cash and thinking about his man. </3

–anyway! apologies for the word–vomit, sometimes i just get a song wedged into the front of my skull and i am paralyzed from doing anything else until i get my thoughts out about it. and it's truly such a gorgeous song, 10/10 recommend if you feel like crying, been listening to these guys for a decade now and they never disappoint.

literally gonna agonize over making an edit for this for hours to get the vision just right and would not be surprised if i end up writing a oneshot inspired by it lol i adore every song they've put out but this one just gripped me so strongly the moment i pulled up the lyrics with how perfectly it slotted into the mota–verse. <33

#i don't even know how to tag this #curtbucky and buckbucky pain ig lol #johnslittlespoon brainrot #this is so funny literally no one cares i just needed to get this out of my system #thank you and fuck you glass animals for another stunning song #also i was looking at the album tracklist and one of the songs is called 'how i learned to love the bomb' watch that give me brainrot too #july nineteenth will be my last day on this earth methinks #johnslittlespoon musicrot

[macabrecake]

HI CAKE IM HERE WITH AN RE6 LEON IDEA: Maybe during the plane ride to China, Leon finds out that reader was severely injured (perhaps has broken ribs or a stab wound/gash) and was trying to hide it until she suddenly coughs/throws up blood, and he takes reader to the bathroom to help her out/scold her when reader is like "i didn't want you to worry about me, boss" skssswidbdid maybe rookie! Reader? loVE YOU <3 MWAH

YES! LOVE ME SOME PROTECTIVE RE6 LEON! This took a minute and I'm sorry about that but here ya go! ❤️

Leon's eyes are sharp. Some could even joke that his gaze could very well put a hawk to shame. Even if it weren't a joke, you'd believe it. So the moment you found that deep red splotch on your gloved hand, and tasted copper on your tongue, after you coughed- you knew you were fucked. Because if you could see it, then Leon definitely could see it too. And you would be correct when the man sitting across from you is up in a flash and quickly hauling you off to the airplane's bathroom without a word.

Only Leon could ever make silence still seem utterly loud.

You swore you were gonna tell him sooner, but the mission took so many unexpected turns you weren't sure when would've been the right time. Now you can't even bring yourself to lock eyes with the blonde agent while he works on cleaning and bandaging the wound inflicted to your side. Which was bigger than you originally thought- feeling him have to slightly move your bra upwards more to disinfect the whole thing. Not that you have to risk being burned by Leon's intimidating stare anyway, just by the tone of his voice, you know he isn't happy.

"What the fuck were you thinking not telling me about this?" He speaks lowly while wrapping the gauze around your torso, while you keep your shirt out of his way and sit quietly. Feeling so small before him. "I mean for Christ's sake y/n. Your whole side is a mess, you could have broken ribs, and possibly an infection. Yet you're treating it like it's a damn paper cut." You lightly flinch, but not from the pain, Leon normally uses nicknames when addressing you. Things like- Rookie, Sunshine, Princess, and Little Miss.

It's not often he uses your actual name. Let alone say it with such anger. That's what truly sets in stone that you really messed up. Eventually, once you're wound is fully dressed, Leon steps away and crosses his arms, still glaring at you and waiting for an explanation. "Answer me, agent..."

His command makes you tense up slightly before releasing a small sigh as you finally pick your head up to try and at least glance at him. "I wasn't sure when would've been the right time to tell you. I mean the President's dead and now the three of us are fugitives." You explain with a sense of defeat, your eyes quick to fall away from your superior and look at the floor instead, your tone growing quieter. "There's already so much you have to worry about. I didn't want you to worry about me too."

The angry crease in Leon's brows soften at your answer as he uncrosses his arms. Feeling a pang of guilt for snapping at you now. He could say you shouldn't hide things like that just for other people's sake, but that would make him a hypocrite. The man knows he'd do the exact same thing. Hell, he's never stopped doing that. Leon slowly moves back towards you in order to help you slip your weapons harness back on, being careful to not make it too tight against your side.

"You know, I've been given orders to make you one of my top priorities. So it's technically my job to worry about you." The agent muses, his tone softer now. Letting a small smile tug at his lips when you fully look up at him. "Meaning, don't hold out on me when you're hurt like this. Especially if it's this severe. Just... Talk to me, ok?" He asks, bright blue eyes holding a silent plea as his thick fingers somehow find their way to be intertwined with your nimble ones. You'd both glance down, but find that neither you nor Leon would let go right away, if anything you lightly squeeze his hands with a smile and nod. "Ok."

The agent mirrors your smile before reluctantly letting his fingers retreat to help you off the counter and opens the bathroom door for you. "Now let's go kick Simmons' ass." Your smile breaks into a full grin, more than ready to take that bastard down, "Yes sir!" Your excitable response rewards you with a chuckle from Leon as he follows you back to your seats. Little do you know, the government never actually gave Leon those orders. But that isn't stopping him.

You're his main priority.

#this took an embarrassing amount of time #but better late than never #plus writing Leon being alittle mean only because he deeply cares and wants to protect is something I actually don't do often #i should write it more 😌 #just protective Leon in general #i need ALL of it #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 6 #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #re6 leon