#Marc Elliott | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

live-laugh-loverpool · 1 year

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I really need hurt/comfort after this game and especially after all the hate Alisson’s getting. I know you just wrote a fanfic like this but I really need another one if you could maybe Virgil/ Alisson and maybe even a little bit of the Real Madrid Brazilian players.

Thanks 😊 sorry to be a bother

Part 2 out! Don't worry, Part 3 will come sooner rather than later. Apparently, losses give my writer's block a kick up the backside.

Tags: @millythegoat, @moomin279 @alissonbecksfan234 @rubybecker-rb2

Sgt. Klopp’s Broken Hearts—Part 2

The fighting hadn’t gotten any better in the Liverpool locker room. After Firmino had punched Van Dijk, a brawl had broken out among most of the players. It was mainly the Brazilians and their allies versus the Dutch and their allies, and considering the large numbers of both there were hardly any neutrals.

Milner had let the fight go on, watching from the bench to make sure nobody got seriously injured and to manually bleep out all the curses thrown around the locker room. He didn’t have the energy to pull apart the brawl and give an inspirational speech, not after the humiliation of his career.

Elliott definitely hadn’t taken Milner’s actions as an example. He brawled and insulted and yelled along with the others, and it was his additions to the fight that Milner was especially disgusted with. His comments had spilled over from comments about the game and footballing form to verbal abuse, and from the looks on his victims’ faces Milner could tell that Elliott’s retorts had hit hard.

“Harvey Daniel James Elliott,” Milner said once things had finally calmed down somewhat. “Come here.”

The youngster huffed, glaring at Milner with piercing blue eyes. “You can’t make me. I’m twenty.”

“And I’m thirty-seven. Now come here this instant, young man.”

Elliott opened his mouth to protest, but eventually he shuffled towards Milner.

“Glad you finally decided to come,” said Milner, pulling Elliott onto the seat next to him. “Now what do I always tell you youngsters about fights?”

As soon as Milner had said that, all the bravado disappeared from Elliott’s demeanor. He shrank in on himself, staring down at the floor. “Comments about the game are okay, but verbal abuse is not acceptable.”

Milner nodded in agreement. “And what would you call the words you said to your teammates just now?”

“Verbal abuse,” Elliott muttered under his breath. “But I didn’t do anything wrong in the match.”

“Maybe not. But that doesn’t give you an excuse to treat your friends so poorly.”

“Kind of hard to believe when you’re singling me out for participating in a team-wide brawl.”

Milner huffed. He’d had all that he could take of Elliott’s insolence. “That is enough for you, young man! Stand in that corner and wait for me to smack you.”

Elliott whipped his head to face Milner, shock and anger set across his features. “You’re not my dad!”

“Er…sorry to interrupt you,” said a voice in a familiar French accent. “But have you seen Vini anywhere?”

All activity inside the locker room halted as the Liverpudlians gaped at the intruder.

“Karim Mostafa Benzema!” Henderson exclaimed upon seeing the Real Madrid captain enter the locker room. “What did you come here for?”

“To taunt us?” Elliott mumbled loud enough for Milner to hear. Milner didn’t even bother to slap him, opting to glare at Benzema.

“What? No, I already have a Ballon D’Or. I came looking for Vini,” Benzema explained. “You know, Vinicius Jr. He felt bad for humiliating you guys and wanted to apologize in person—especially to the Brazilians.”

Milner nearly smacked himself in frustration. Brazilian players tended to look out for each other, even when they played on different clubs, and of course Vinicius would be no exception to the rule.

“Vini has a heart of gold,” said Fabinho, standing from where he’d been forced down during the brawl. “But I think the sight of Vini is the last thing Ali needs.”

“You mean your goalkeeper? Where is he anyways?” Benzema sounded visibly confused about not seeing Alisson among the others.

Elliott took this as the perfect opportunity to speak up. “He and Virg had a fight and he disappeared into the showers.”

“That sounds…like you’re used to this happening.” Benzema inched closer to the door, gripping the doorframe. “Shouldn’t you try and find him?”

“I think what he’d like the most is some time alone,” Firmino explained. “Anyways, we already know where Ali is—in the showers. He couldn’t leave the room without us knowing.”

“Unless he took the hall door,” said Vinicius, appearing in the room.

“Hall door?” Firmino queried, confusion visible upon every one of his features.

“Yeah, the hall door. The one that leads from the showers outside the door—we totally forgot!” This time, Milner did smack himself. He turned to Henderson, then Benzema. “God, he could be anywhere now.”

“I’ll go check on him,” Van Dijk offered. “If we hadn’t fought, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Matip’s eyes widened in surprise. “So you’re finally admitting that this is all your fault?”

“It’s not all Virgil’s fault,” Vinicius argued. “If I’d not scored versus you, maybe there’d still be some dignity left.”

“Vini, that’s not your fault. Your job is to score,” Firmino objected, wrapping his arms around the younger Brazilian. “You did that, we didn’t. Would you tell me to apologize to Thibaut if it was the other way around?”

“I guess you’re right,” Vinicius admitted with a shrug. “But I still feel like I should check on Ali…when I find him.”

“You mean when we find him.” Fabinho stepped through the door, gesturing for the others to follow him. “Vini, Bobby, follow me. We’ll find him faster than Darwin can run!”

Nunez offered a slight smile at that remark. “Maybe Virg should go along to apologize.”

Benzema put his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “No no no. From what Harvey’s told me, Virg’s done enough damage already.”

Van Dijk opened his mouth to argue, but promptly shut it upon seeing Firmino glare at him from behind dark brown eyes. “Okay. But I promise to apologize afterwards.”

“Good idea,” Elliott remarked, ignoring Milner’s glare at him. “After all, you can’t afford to lose the lilac part of your heart.”

Alisson didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. Clearly not goalkeeping, because all it brought was a sword blow after a false dawn.

He’d taken a shower just so the sounds of running water would muffle his ringing phone. Even though he knew the people behind the hate comments couldn’t jump out of his phone to get him, it still hurt to think that all those people hated him.

And where are the hate comments when we win? No, then you’re a hero. But now you’re a zero. Hero to zero, in no time flat. Just like that Disney movie.

“Cala a boca, cérebro,” Alisson muttered, running a comb through his hair. He didn’t bother to look at himself in the mirror—that always made him feel even worse. “You can’t get to me this time.”

Quiet Becker! Whenever you speak up, we’re in big trouble. You couldn't even organize your wall for the third goal. Klopp will be so disappointed in you. What a loser—you can’t even avoid getting into a fight, and now Virgil’s mad at you, and…

Alisson tossed down the comb and picked up his phone. He needed something to distract him, before he went insane from the hate his own mind sent towards him.

He briefly checked his Whatsapp and smiled upon seeing notifications from the Goalkeeper’s Union group chat. They were probably talking about the match that he was trying to avoid, but it was a distraction for Alisson’s self-persecuting brain. At least they wouldn’t hate upon him like the fans…

SweeperKeeper: Damn, that was some game

WeWonIt14Times: You can say that again

Eder: You’d better change your chat name Keylor, that’s gonna sting Ali once he’d in the chat

Alisson couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept across his face upon reading that text.

Ali: It’s fine Eder, he can keep it

Eder: Ali how’re you doing

Ali: Hanging in there…barely 😶

Ali: Virgil and I fought

SweeperKeeper: Whoa, you got into a fight? Klopp’s not gonna be happy when he hears you punched someone…

Alisson tried to ignore the last part of that comment. He just couldn’t ignore anything having to do with Klopp’s opinion on him.

Ali: Not physically fighting, but verbally

Ali: He probably doesn’t even want to talk to me again

Ali: What kind of keeper lets in more than 4 goals?

Eder: Whoa whoa whoa, calm down

KingOfBarca#1: We conceded eight goals before Ali, and I’m still the best goalkeeper in all of Germany

SweeperKeeper: SAYS WHO

KingofBarca#1: Well, I’m the only one who didn’t go ski on rocks

SweeperKeeper: YOU TAKE THAT BACK YA FILTHY ANIMAL

Germans, Alisson thought with a wry chuckle.

WeWonIt14Times: That joke’s getting old Marc Andre 😑

WeWonIt14Times: But Ali, if it makes you feel any better I conceded 7 goals in one World Cup game

Eder: I conceded 3 goals in consecutive ties vs. Los Blancos just last year. AND City lost 2-5 versus Leicester, at home. At least yours was vs. the World Champions

Alisson’s eyes widened upon seeing Ederson’s latest text. His compatriot hated talking about any game where he’d conceded more than one goal—and that definitely included the Leicester game.

KingofBarca#1: And don’t forget my 8 giant blunders versus Bayern

SweeperKeeper: If we’re all mentioning our heaviest losses, then I swallowed six goals versus Spain

GoalKepa: AND I conceded six vs. City

Eder: see? One or two mistakes doesn’t automatically make you the worst keeper in the world. We all swallowed more than four goals in a game before

Eder: And we’re still world class boss badass awesome goalies

SweeperKeeper: HELL YEAH

Ali: 😭😭😭😭

GoalKepa: oh no, did we break him?

Ali: 🥹 I love you guys

Eder: We’re the Goalkeepers’ Union, we’re supposed to support each other

WeWonIt14Times: Keepers are the only ones who can really understand other keepers

Ali: Come here 🤗🤗🤗💛💚💙❤️

Eder: feeling better?

Ali: Somewhat😥

Eder: Btw, I sent the Brazilians to check on you. I’d do it myself but we’re in Germany now

SweeperKeeper: Oh that reminds me

SweeperKeeper: Sadio told me to remind you to check on your boss

Ali: Is he OK?

Eder: Take it easy, Ali. First shower, then tell nossos compatriotas that you’re alright.

Ali: I will, ttyl

Eder: ttyl

“Ali!” a familiar voice called out to Alisson before he could even put down his phone. “Are you here? We checked all the broom closets in Anfield, there must be a million in this place!”

“Not a million,” said a voice in an Alagoas accent. Alisson could almost hear the brightness of his teeth. “Only seventeen.”

“Dezessete malditos armários?!”

To Alisson’s surprise, Vinicius stuck his head through the door. “There you are! I’m so sorry about the Virg incident earlier, and the goal. Bobby did tell me not to apologize because it’s my job, but I just can’t help it! After the quarterfinals in the World Cup you looked so upset and—”

Alisson just hugged the younger man, ignoring the Real kit that he still wore. “Bobby’s right. You’re just being the great forward that you are.”

“Well, it took us long enough to find you!” Firmino chuckled upon seeing Alisson squishing Vinicius in a giant bear hug. “You ready to go back to the locker room, Ali?”

Alisson shrugged, staring down at the tiled floors. “I’m ready. Not sure Virgil is, though.”

Fabinho appeared out of nowhere, taking a seat next to Alisson on the counter. “Trust me, he feels as guilty as you do. You both have some talking to do with each other, but I think you can go back.”

“But what about the boss? He’ll be so mad at me.”

“He won’t be that upset. And if he is, we’ll stand up for you,” Vinicius proclaimed. “After all, it wasn’t just you who had a horror showing today. Fabi didn’t get a single tackle, and Joe didn’t do anything, and—I’m putting my foot in my mouth again, huh?”

Firmino rolled his eyes. “Just like Harvey. Honestly, Milly’s about to smack him. But Vini’s right—we win as a team and we lose as a team. We’re all equally at fault for this.” He opened his arms, expectantly glancing at his compatriots. “Now it’s time for me to say: abraço coletivo!”

They huddled up together, momentarily forgetting about their rivalries. For now, they were just four Brazilians living out their childhood dreams.

Until Elliott burst into the room, breathless.

“Guys, we need your help. The boss ran away and we can’t find him anywhere!”

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emmanelson · 2 years

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alma hodge was the original amy dunne

#marc cherry #alma hodge #desperate housewives #amy dunne #gone girl #amy elliott dunne #gillian flynn #tries to frame her husband for her murder? check #(tries to) get pregnant to get said husband to stay with her? check

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vintagewarhol · 2 years

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#1883 series #tv shows #paramount+#taylor sheridan #sam elliott #tim mcgraw #faith hill #isabel may #lamonica garrett #marc rissmann #audie rick #eric nelsen #james landry hebert #noah le gros #illustration #vintage art #alternative movie posters

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ichorai · 2 years

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dlz ; jake lockley.

track ten of DEAR SCIENCE.

pairing ; jake lockley x gn!reader

synopsis ; jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

words ; 3.5k

themes ; angst, mild fluff, married au

warnings / includes ; suggestive, implications of sex, jake is a rough kisser e_e, mentions of injury/blood, mild cursing, marc and steven both have appearances, jake is emotionally constipated, jake calls reader peach !! reader is a sweetheart <3

main masterlist.

Jake Lockley didn’t like your perfume—it was almost nauseatingly fresh and its smell permeated through his own clothes so that he’d often walk out smelling like he had doused himself in Febreze.

He didn’t like the way you’d hum to his favorite songs while doing the dishes. Nirvana, Elliott Smith, Radiohead—were you singing them on purpose just to annoy him? Nearly every night, he could hear your faint voice drift into the living room, where he was reading the same three sentences of the daily paper over and over and over again because he couldn’t concentrate on anything but your endearingly inconsistent mutters to the music.

He especially hated when you’d walk out of the bedroom in nothing but Steven’s shirt loosely draped over your form, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your heavy-lidded eyes. There was just something about seeing you at your most vulnerable. You were comfortable around him, and that made Jake uneasy.

When Jake fronted, he slept in the guest room. Marc had convinced him not to blow more money staying at a hotel—and Steven was trying to persuade him to at least sleep in the same bed as you. After all, they were married to you.

But Jake wasn’t your husband. Steven and Marc were. Jake was just… he was just there. A ghost living in your house.

The very thought of sharing a bed with you made a chill dance down Jake’s spine. He could never. As appealing as the thought of having you slotted between his arms, sleepily recounting how your day went to him, sounded, he couldn’t ever have that. Jake Lockley wasn’t a domestic man.

His hands would always be dripping with blood that wasn’t his, no matter how hard he tried scrubbing it away.

There were times Jake felt a morsel of regret. He was nowhere near nice to you, and yet you still spared him that infuriatingly patient, sweet smile, always telling him to stay safe before he left to drive his cab around (or do Khonshu’s dirty work), and never failing to whisper good night before slipping into your bedroom.

Sometimes he had a queer, niggling feeling scratching at the pits of his stomach one would commonly refer to as jealousy. He knew that Marc and Steven got to hold you, kiss you, tell you they loved you as they pleased.

Jake couldn’t do that. Jake wasn’t even entirely sure he was capable of loving someone.

What made it even worse was that Jake learned about you through them—not because he ever actually tried to get closer to you.

He knew you loved apricots, but not as much as peaches. He knew you loved lighting scented candles whenever it rained. He knew you named each one of your house plants. He knew you were only slightly ticklish. He knew you had a tell; your nose would twitch and your eyebrows would quirk upwards whenever you lied. He knew from Steven to kiss just above your pulse point against the column of your throat to make you melt into him. He knew you had a birthmark between your thighs from when Marc—

Yeah, he’d rather not think about that one.

Jake knew you cried a lot—that one he learned on his own. He could hear you through the walls, but you probably weren’t aware of that fact.

One night, Jake sat in the living room, staring into nothing, heart twisting angrily at himself until he couldn’t take it anymore, storming out of the apartment after shoving his hat onto his head and grabbing his cab’s keys. Steven and Marc had yelled angrily at him the whole time, but he learned to block their voices out.

He wasn’t very good in the emotional department, that was abundantly clear.

When he came back home hours later, having driven around the city several times to clear his head, he tried to be as quiet as possible. At an hour as late as this, you were bound to be asleep, right?

But alas, there you were, curled into the corner of the couch, head uncomfortably lolled onto your shoulder. The house was entirely dark save for the dim glow of the television, casting a blue luminescence over your dozing form. Long shadows kissed the slopes of your features, softened with sleep. He noticed that there were tear tracks faintly outlined over the skin of your cheekbones.

Jake froze at the doorway for a moment. Were you waiting for him to come home?

He pushed down any and all intrusive thoughts, begrudgingly shrugging off his coat and hanging up his hat. A calloused palm carded through messy, coffee-hued curls.

Heart dipping heavy within his chest, Jake stalked forward to turn the TV off, setting the remote down on the coffee table. He stood over you for a moment. A frown twisted at the corner of his lips, drawing his brows together.

Jaw clenching, Jake stepped away from you, slipping into the hall. He leaned against the door to the guest room for a moment, huffing out a low groan. Gods, what in the hell was he doing?

After another minute of frustrated hesitation, Jake willed himself to make his way back into the living room. You were twitching in your sleep, eyelids fluttering with what he could guess were the beginnings of a harsh nightmare.

Gently—or, as gentle as a highly-skilled mercenary could be—Jake hooked an arm beneath the crook of your knee, the other looping over your shoulders and neck. When you stirred, Jake could only quietly make hushing noises, wincing at himself. Thankfully, you didn’t fully awaken, a soft noise falling from your lips as your nose turned to press against the fabric of his shirt obscuring his chest, just above where his heart scratched at the walls of his ribcage.

He kicked the door to your bedroom open none too silently, eager to set you down. Get as far away from you as possible. The sound of the doorknob thwacking against the wall behind it made your lids shoot open, and you groggily mumbled incoherent phrases under your breath before peering up at him with confused, watery eyes. He cursed internally.

“You’re back,” you said, voice hoarse with disuse. “You okay?”

There were lots of things Jake wanted to say to you at that moment.

No, I’m not okay. Were you waiting for me to get home? I’m sorry if I made you worry. I’m sorry I’m such an asshole. Am I an asshole? You shouldn’t ever wait for me again. What were you dreaming of? Was it a nightmare about me?

Instead of any of that, Jake merely set you down onto the mattress with a grunt, dusting his hands onto his pants. He glared down at you as if he was angry—and he was, but not necessarily at you.

But wasn’t he, though? He was angry that you were just so… so kind to him. He was angry that you were patient. He was angry that you were so easy to love.

“Go to sleep, peach,” he gruffed. A hot flush coursed over his face at the nickname that had unintentionally slipped out. To his relief, you didn’t seem to notice.

Your sleepy expression seemed to cave in on itself and you dazedly nodded, head falling back into the pillow.

If only he could slip in beside you, entangle his legs with yours as you kissed softly over his tense face, call you his.

Jake nearly slapped himself to get his head screwed on straight. He spared your already-sleeping form one last glance before trudging out of your room. Hurriedly, he threw himself into the guestroom, ripping off his shirt and pressing a palm flat against his chest to quell the racing thunder of his heart.

You were not good news for him.

You didn’t see Jake for weeks after that incident.

A part of you was glad—you were beginning to miss the sound of Steven’s sweet voice, his tender touches, his passionate kisses. You missed Marc’s back hugs, his strange fixation with your bare legs, his lopsided smiles.

The other part of you, however, wondered about Jake.

“Does Jake ever… say anything to the two of you?” you asked Steven one day, stirring sugar into your steaming tea as you leaned against the kitchen counter. Your husband looked up from the novel he was reading, pushing his glasses up his nose while considering your question.

“Sometimes. Mostly stays to himself—quite the quiet bloke, innhe? Why, love?”

Your bottom lip trembled as you glared into your tea, as if it was the source of all your troubles. Steven was immediately out of his seat, tugging you close until your forehead rested upon his clavicle bone. You sniffled into him, crushing your eyes shut with shame.

“Does he hate me?” you asked, voice cracking. “I don’t… I don’t know what I did to make him—”

Steven immediately held you all the closer, crooning out, “No! No, of course not, silly. He’s just… he’s just having trouble with himself, that’s all. Doesn’t really talk to us much, either. It’s not you, love, I promise. In fact, I’m nearly certain he fancies you.”

“You’re not just saying that?” you said, scrutinizing him with wide, glassy eyes. “I don’t need him to love me like you and Marc do. I just… it’s hard when it feels like a man with the same face as your husband hates you.”

Steven’s expression crumbled, and he kissed over your left eyelid softly. “I know. I’m sorry, darling, I can’t imagine what that’s like.” Rubbing soothing circles over your back, he urged you to take a seat next to him, leaning over to move your mug of tea from the counter to the kitchen table. “Come on, I’ve got an amazing poem I want you to read.”

It was only two days later that you saw Jake again. You strode through the door, juggling grocery bags in one hand and a stack of books you borrowed from the library in the other. With a huff, you set the groceries down in the kitchen, turning around to see Jake quietly observing you, leaning against the fridge. You bit down a startled scream, flinching at his unexpected presence.

“Oh,” you said after a second of flustered silence. “Hi, Jake. Didn’t see you there.”

He was observing you with such a sharp gaze that it felt like his irises were cutting straight through your flesh. Finally, he pushed away from the fridge, slowly moving towards you until he stood just in front of you, about an arm’s length away.

“Jake, what are you—?”

“I don’t hate you, peach,” the man said, all gravelly and brusque.

It took you a moment to fully register what he was saying. “Oh,” was all you said, parroting yourself from five seconds ago in a rather poignant manner. “Well… I don’t hate you, either, Jake. Far from that.”

You could see the struggle in the dark depths of his irises. Turmoil raged behind those narrowed lids, and you couldn’t bring it in yourself to look away, not even if you tried.

Feeling bold, you shuffled forward to slowly raise your hands, cupping Jake’s face within your palms. His glare seemed to harden at first, always so angry at things for not going the way he expected it to go, muscles tensing beneath your touch—but when your fingers gently scraped over his stubble, he could feel himself letting go, practically liquefying into you.

“Why are you like this, Jake Lockley?” you murmured, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. The action made his eyelids flutter shut. He’d never let himself be this vulnerable in front of you before. He wasn’t prepared for his walls to come crashing down around him so quickly—so easily. “Did I do something to upset you?”

All previous inhibitions thrown out the window, Jake grumbled out a small, “Yeah. All the fuckin’ time, peach.”

You quirked a brow. “Go on, then.”

One of his eyes opened before sliding closed again. “Where do I start? You smell too good—I can never concentrate around you. You’re always singing my favorite songs and it’s buggin’ the hell outta me. You’re always so nice to me—even though you know I’m not like your precious Steven and Marc.”

Something akin to a guffaw fell from your lips. “Well, first of all, thank you? Somehow you managed to compliment me in the rudest way possible, and I commend you for that. Second, I know you’re not like Steven and Marc. But I still love you all the same.”

The kitchen grew so quiet, Jake could’ve sworn he’d be able to hear a pin drop.

His heart began tripping over its own gallop of a pace. You’d said it so easily, so swiftly, as if loving him came as naturally as breathing.

Jake found his eyes falling to your mouth, slightly puckered to the side in thought.

Noticing his sudden change in demeanor, you started saying, “Jake—?”

“Can I kiss you?” he interrupted, glowering at you with a newfound fire crackling behind his eyes.

You blinked once, then twice. Then you nodded.

A small sigh of content that made Jake far too excited for his own good escaped your lungs as he dove forward and melded his lips with yours, dipping you backward ever so slightly in the midst of his vigor.

He kissed differently than Steven or Marc did. Steven was languid, careful, and tender whilst Marc was feverish, calculated, and explorative.

Jake Lockley, however, kissed like a mad man. He was all tongue and teeth, desperately furious with his motions, kissing you as if it was the very last time he’d have the chance to do so. His nose slotted against yours, brushing against your cheek as you caved into him, arms winding over his neck to pull him ever so close.

His fingers immediately clutched at your waist, one moving upwards beneath your (Marc’s) shirt to lightly scratch over the skin of your ribcage and the other shifting lower to tug over the back of your thigh.

Gods, you just felt so right.

“Mmh, peach,” Jake growled into your skin as he traversed down your neck, biting at the spot just above your pulse point, which made a low, desperate noise scratch at the back of your throat. He’d do anything to hear that noise over and over again.

“Why do you call me that?” you panted out, fingers threading through his haphazard curls to haul him away from your neck and back onto your lips.

“You like peaches,” he breathed into you, a groan of agony rumbling from his chest when you nipped at his bottom lip with a hum of approval. “Don’t you?”

A choked sound was all you could let out when he shoved you none-too-gently against the counter, bending over to accommodate for his eager lips over yours.

“I love them,” you whispered once he parted away to catch his breath.

There it was again. The L word.

Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

Suddenly, as if snapped back into reality, Jake halted any and all ministrations, nose only a hair's breadth away from your neck. You smelled so damn good, so tantalizingly tempting, lips raw-bitten and skin flushed with heat.

But Jake couldn’t. You didn’t belong with a person like him. With Steven? Yeah, of course. With Marc? The idiot loved you too much to ever let you go, even if he tried to.

Jake would bring you nothing but pain and misery and the thinly-veiled threat of danger.

“This is a mistake,” he said, voice rough with tremendous restraint.

He thought that if he kissed you, all these stupid feelings would wash down the drain, as if you’d be able to suck it all out of him like a goddamn love vacuum. But, no, it was as if just having a taste wasn’t enough. He needed the rest of you. He needed all of you.

But he couldn’t.

“Jake…” Your voice was quiet, breaking off slightly when he let go of you, stepping back while glaring a hole into the ground.

With the maturity equivalent to that of a prepubescent teenager, Jake stormed out of the kitchen and into the hall, slamming the guest room door behind him so hard that the picture frames of you and Steven and Marc on the walls rattled.

A week passed by until you saw Jake again.

You were in bed with Marc, shivering as he ran his palms down your waist, swatting his hands away while gritting out, “That tickles, Marc!”

He hummed noncommittally, pressing kisses down your shoulder, nosing your cheek affectionately.

“Tell me about this one,” he whispered into you, taking your hand to trace a thin scar over the inside of your wrist.

“I was seven,” you whispered. “This boy pushed me off a swing in the playground. I threw my hands out and a rock got me bad—fractured my wrist, too. I don’t remember much, but I remember there was a lot of blood. I’m pretty sure the poor kid was the one that ran screaming for a teacher to come help.”

Marc regarded you with a look of pure adoration, thinly laced with amusement. “Did you really just call the bastard who pushed you a ‘poor kid’?”

You barked out a laugh and he pressed a lasting kiss over your faded scar.

“Alright, your turn. Tell me about this,” you playfully pressed your thumb between his brows. “You got a little divot here. Been furrowing your eyebrows too much, huh? And you wonder why I call you the grumpy eagle muppet.” When he rolled his eyes, you chuckled out, “What? Listen, it’s not my fault Khonshu got rid of all your scars! I gotta work with what I’m given, here!”

“That’s enough out of you,” Marc bit out, though you could tell he wasn’t really being serious with the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Okay, turn around. Sleep time, baby. Love you.”

You hummed in mild contentment, turning around so your back molded perfectly against his chest. “Love you, too, Marc.”

The rise and fall of his chest was deep, rhythmic, so calming that you were just on the brink of sleep—

Until it stopped.

You could feel the body wrapped behind you stiffen. Immediately, you knew this was Jake.

With a lump lodged in your throat, you hesitantly turned around, only to be met with Jake staring back at you, wide-eyed. It was dark, so you could just barely make out the upset tautness of his features.

Jerkily, he started moving to clamber off the bed, all but shaking you off of him like you were a pesky insect.

No. No, you wouldn’t stand for this.

“Jake,” you said firmly, reaching out to wrap your hand around his wrist. “Stay. Please.”

Mute, the man shook his head, legs slipping out from beneath the blanket.

Desperate, you sat up, wrapping your arms around his midriff and pressing your cheek into his back as you said, “You deserve love, Jake. You deserve my love. Please, stay.”

For a moment, you wondered if he’d just push you off again. Disappear into that guestroom you were too scared to venture into when he left for work. Just when you were on the near precipice of relinquishing any and all hope, you could feel Jake’s shoulders sag. His head hung low as he sighed.

Wordless, he shifted around and you let go of him so he could slip back under the covers.

Tentative, you laid down next to him, shifting so your head could rest over his chest. His arm jostled around to rest comfortably beneath your neck.

Jake held you differently from Marc and Steven.

Jake held you as if he was afraid you’d break apart. Jake held you like he had to be ready to let you go at any moment. Jake held you like he was afraid to show you just how much he loved you.

You craned your neck upwards to press a light kiss to his stubbled jaw, then settled back down.

You heard Jake sigh, but this time, it was one of pure relief—utter bliss. It was quiet, but it was there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, nose tucked into your hair. “I’ll try to be better with you. I’ll try, peach.”

Nodding minutely, you intertwined your hand with his free one, playing absentmindedly with his fingers. “I know.”

Just before your breaths evened with sleep, Jake could only barely hear you drowsily mumble out, “I love you, Lockley.”

He knew you were already asleep, which made the feat of saying it back somewhat easier for him.

“Love you, too, peach.”

7K notes · View notes

the-offside-rule · 5 months

Text

Christmas Oneshots List

Day 1 - Mason Mount (Manchester United) - Play Pretend

Day 2 - Carlos Sainz Jr ( Scuderia Ferrari) - First Snow

Day 3 - Pablo Gavi (FCBarcelona) - Skating Rink

Day 4 - Marc Marquez (Ducati) - The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Day 5 - Jude Bellingham (Real Madrid) - An Unexpected Gift

Day 6 - Alejandro Garnacho (Manchester United) - Cuffin' Season

Day 7 - Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Reconsider *smut*

Day 8 - Lando Norris (McLaren) - Dress Up

Day 9 - Jack Grealish (Macnhester City) - Snowman

Day 10 - Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - The Little Things

Day 11 - Trent Alexander Arnold (Liverpool) - Jolly

Day 12 - Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Christmas Tree Topping

Day 13 - Kylian Mbappe (Paris Saint Germain) - The Lights of Paris

Day 14 - Daniel Ricciardo (Alpha Tauri) - Wrapping Mistletoe

Day 15 - Frenkie De Jong (FCBarcelona) - Baking

Day 16 -Pierre Gasly (Alpine) - Die Hard

Day 17 - Rodrigo Riquelme (Athletico Madrid) - Elevator Secrets

Day 18 - Mick Schumacher (Mercedes AMG) - A Coffee and a Miracle

Day 19 - Anthony Gordon (Newcastle) - Freezin'

Day 20 - Liam Lawson (Mugen) - The Art of Decorating

Day 21 - Riqui Puig (LA Galaxy) - Surprise!

Day 22 - Jenson Button (Brawn era) - Snowball

Day 23 - Harvey Elliott (Liverpool) - Break a Leg

Day 24 - Mitch Evans (Jaguar) - Meeting You

Day 25 - Evan Ferguson (Brighton) - Fairytale of New York

[FROM THE VAULT]

Andy Robertson (Liverpool) - Silent Night

Gary Neville (Manchester United era) - Are You Sure?

Julian Alvarez (Manchester City) - Feliz Navidad

Martin Ødegaard (Arsenal FC) - Pinnekjøtt

#f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #football #football imagines #football blurbs #fcbarcelona #laliga #f1 oneshots

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l1tw1ck · 2 years

Text

Writelist

I write: AFAB Characters & AMAB Characters (genderfluid, cis male, ftm, non-binary, and any masc-aligned gender)

Anybody 18+ is allowed to read and interact with my work as long as you're respectful and don't ask me to write female reader

DNI: Basic DNI criteria, if you support or write fics about real people

The more specific the request, the better. Don't be afraid to go into alarming detail.

Please don't copy and paste your request (in another ask or in my comment sections) if I don't respond to it. I won't answer a request until I've finished it so please be patient

If you want a part two, you're more likely to get one if you specify what you want in it. Most of the time I don't have any ideas if I planned on it being a oneshot

What I will NOT write:

Female Reader, Female Character, Scat, Incest (Pseudo-Incest is Fine), Age Play, Misgendering, Transphobia

Things You Can Request:

- Fics, Thirsts, Shorts, Headcanons, Drafts

- For shorts you can just give me a character (up to 4 per post) and a prompt or trope or whatever and I'll write a small little piece about it

Bottom Reader

tell me if you're okay with afab language or not if asking for ftm reader. i wont use it by default

Characters I'll write for bottom reader: Zhongli, Ajax, Itto, Ayato, Diluc, Diavolo, William Afton, Enji Todoroki, Scott Howl, Hopper, Joel Miller, Michael Myers, Ghostface (Danny, Billy),

I will not write bottom reader for anybody not listed above

Fandoms I write for

feel free to ask if I would write for any fandom not listed here

The fandoms I've been asked about but don't write for: AOT, COD, Twilight, Sk8, JJK, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss,

Genshin Impact

All Male Characters (Not including Fontaine)

My Hero Academia

Class 1-A, Aizawa, LOV, Monoma, Tamaki, Mirio, Shinso, Enji Todoroki

Danganronpa

All male characters in Trigger Happy Havoc and Goodbye Despair

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers, Argyle, Jim Hopper, Billy Hargrove

Haikyuu

Kenma Kozume, Testuro Kuroo, Karasuno Volleyball Team, Keishin Ukai, Oikawa

The Disastrous Life of Saiki Kusuo

Saiki, Kaido, Kuboyasu, Saiko

Twisted Wonderland

Idia, Lilia, Leona, Malleus, Jack, Vil, Rook

Detroit Become Human

Markus, Connor

Obey Me

The Demon Brothers, Diavolo, Simeon, Solomon, Barbatos

FNAF

Michael Afton & Michael Schmidt, William Afton

Monster Prom

Scott Howl, Damien LaVey, Liam De Lioncourt, Oz, Brian Yu

Stardew Valley

Shane, Sebastian, Alex, Demetrius, Kent, Harvey, Elliott, Sam

Horror & Slasher

Michael Myers, Ghostface (Danny Johnson, Stu, Billy), Dwight Riley, Losers Club (1990, 2019), Patrick Bateman, Kurt Kunkle, John Doe, Chad Meeks-Martin, Wes Hicks, Ethan Landry

Bungou Stray Dogs

Atsushi Nakajima, Osamu Dazai, Doppo Kunikida, Ranpo Edogawa, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Chuuya Nakahara

One Punch Man

Genos, Speed o Sound Sonic

Hunter x Hunter

Kurapika, Leorio, Feitan

Harry Potter

Harry Potter, Ron Weasly, Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape, Tom Riddle, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

Honkai Star Rail

Caelus, Dan Heng, Sampo, Welt, Jing Yuan, Gepard, Luocha, Blade, Luka, Argenti, Veritas Ratio, Gallagher, Sunday, Adventurine

Marvel

Spider-Man (Raimi, TASM, MCU, Insomniac, Miguel, Peter B. Parker, Hobie Brown), Spider-Noir, Tony Stark, Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Harry Osborn, Eddie Brock, Loki, Thor, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Deadpool,

Scott Pilgrim

Scott Pilgrim, Lucas Lee, Gideon Graves, Matthew Patel, Wallace Wells, Stephen Stills, Young Neil, Todd Ingram

Supernatural

Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester

Misc

Bruce Wayne, Edward Nygma (The Batman), Clark Kent (MAWS), Jimmy Olsen (MAWS), James (Pokémon), Arven (Pokémon), Joel Miller (TLOU), Leon Kennedy, Luis Sera, Stein (Soul Eater), Spirit (Soul Eater), Reigen Arataka, Link

#🕯️bnha #🕯️scott pilgrim (series)#🕯️supernatural #🕯️pokemon #🕯️marvel #🕯️honkai star rail #🕯️harry potter #🕯️scream #🕯️hxh #🕯️bsd #🕯️genshin #🕯️tlou #🕯️twst

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gingerbeardmansim · 11 months

Text

MARC - "I do feel bad for telling them they had to go..."

TORIC - "I know he is your nephew, and you have always been close, but he lied to you about school. They ate us out of house and home, and this place was a mess."

MARC - "I just know him staying with his mom is NOT a good idea."

TORIC - "I get it, Marc. Just rest assured, I am sure Casey and Elliott will find a way. Now, come here and give me a kiss and let's get ready! Remember, we are meeting Anthony and Kevin tonight in San Myshuno."

#TS4 #TS4Rotational Gameplay #San Sequoia #MarcW #ToricH #Gay Simblr #Gay Sims #Simself

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wondererryn · 19 days

Text

why did my friend send me this i thought we were past chain mail

" Hi can u put your name in it and send it to 10 different people We’re trying to make the longest iMessage for the 2021 Guinness World Records. Put your name below (copy it) and send it to 10 people, Don’t be th e one to break the chain

🐱Sylvia🐱

🐷Sadie 🐷

🦋Brynley🦋

🌸Karsyn🌸

🐴Carly🐝

⚾️Matthew ⚾️

😎Spencer 😎

🏀JoJo🤙

⛸Olivia⛸

👌Tessa👌

💔madison💔

🐉Elise🐉

🌻Lacey🌻

🦎Gabriella🦎

😝Siobhan😝

🤤Bella🤤

🥴Mia🥴

🤪Kaylee🤪

😒Allegra😒

🍫Daniella🍫

🤠Audrey🤠

💖Kortney💖

🥶Kayla 🥶

🤘🏼Brianna🤘🏼

🏁thomas🏁

🌈Justine 🌈

📍Aniyah 📍

🔐Priscilla🔐

🦄Marissa🦄

😹Lauren😼

☺️jocelyn☺️

🌺Janneth🌺

🦋marycruz🦋

💔Evelyn💔

🍎Karina🍎

😇Anjela😇

💙Janice💙

🖤Astrid🖤

💎Audrey💎

💍Mia💍

❤️Layla❤️

🤞Emily 🤞

💋Aaliyah💋

😁Melanie😁

😜Brenda 🥎

⭐️Maria⭐️

🥵dezire🥵

🤩Melissa🤩

🤣Alex🤣

🍯giuliana🍯

🥺Madelyn🥺

🥱Laryssa🥱

🐱Emerson 🐱

😛Amelia😛

⚽️Gracie⚽️

🥸Sierra🥸

🥎Ava🥎

⚽️Katia⚽️

🐷thea🐷

😈Marissa😈

🐘McKenna🐘

🦒Rylee🦒

😱Skyler😱

🤪Kimmy🤪

🤸🏻‍♀️Abby🤸🏻‍♀️

🦮Aubrey🦮

😛Bryn😛

🥳Embry🥳

🎉Sawyer🎉

🦄Willow🥳

🤪Stella🐶

👋🏻Kaitlyn🦄

⚽️Sedona🥰

🤤Lucy🤣

😷Maureen😷

😺Keira😺

😇Molly😇

😚izzy😚

✌️CJ✌️

🤣Levi🤣

🐶Nicky🐶

🔥Rohan🔥

🏈 Vishal 🏈

🌐Arthi🌐

🦊Sahithi 🦊

🐶Homa🐶

🐣Chetan🐣

🦜Saketh🦜

🐰Sravya 🐰

🦚Bhavita🦚

🌊Saanvi🌊

🥳Sloka🥳

😜Raaga😜

😁Sriram😁

🐘Risha🐘

🥸Cora🥸

🤪Riya🤪

💕Navadha💕

💔Ally💔

🥀Seher🥀

✌️Lauren✌️

🙃Emily🙂

❤Addison💜

💃🏼Jacqueline 💃🏼

Chloe🏒

Alex🏒

😻Audrey😻

✨Raegan✨

🐶Sienna🐶

⚽️Meg⚽️

🏄 Reilly 🏄

😂Lyla😂

😋Hailey😋

💗Gigi💗

🥳Evelyn🥳

✌🏽Willa✌🏽

🌻Bianca🌻

🥵Jaylah🥵

💋Sariah💋

💀⛓Corine ⛓💀

🤠Jessica🤠

🫐Brei🫐

🙃🥸Jenna🥸🙃

💖Alexis💖

🤍Mia 🤍

💗marli💗

🎀Aylah 🎀

😎Breanna😎😎

😏Ava😏

🌻Bella🌻

💛Avery🌻

🧩Makenzie🧩

🪴Merrill 🪴

💕 Kendal 💕

🍬Chloe 🍬

🍭 ♡Taylor ♡🍭

🍡𝙼𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎🍡

💋💄MARYLIZ💄💋

💖Aniya💋♥️

💁🏻Adia😂❤️🥳

😜Reece😜

🐻Keira R.🐻

🥳Karis🥳

🐝✌🏽Hannah ✌🏽🐝

🤩Mandie🤓😏

🤗Arial🤗

💋Samie💋

🤪Tom🤪

🦊Lexi🦊

🐺Rainey🐺

🍀Jeseni🍀

✨Isaac✨

👉fabian👈

🏀Dominic⚾️

📣Amie⚾️

💖Johannah 💖

📣Amie⚾️🥁

🦥C

arlyn 🦥

🏵Emily 🏵

🍔Taylor🍔

🦋𝓴𝓪𝓼𝓱🦋

♡︎𝔸𝕟𝕟𝕒♡︎y

🤤𝕃𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕒𝕟🤤

🌈Caroline💥⚡️

✨Vanessa✨

🐋Caroline🥥

🌺Sofia🐾

🏳️‍🌈 Rayno 🏳️‍⚧️

🍄Kate🐛

😂📚Lucy🤩🤦🏼‍♀️

🥰Katie⭐️

🏃🏻‍♀️🤪𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚐𝚎📖🥸

👽🍕SAdiE🍕👽

🥝🧸 Tessie!! 🧸🥝

🍑Lucy🍑

🍍grace 🍍

😋Ada😍

💀 Lucas 💀

🤩Allie🤩

😭Pheobe 😭

🦻🏻 Sierra 🫀

🥭Lydia🦦

😁Elliott😝

😩Zoey😏

⚽️Tristin🫐

⚽️𝕃𝕀𝕃𝕐⚽️

🟩Aubrey♠️

♎️ANNORA🏳️‍🌈

😎Peighton😘

🤓Joanie🤓

🏐Kylie😜

🏆Kate😂

🌙Selah🔑

🦄Kinsley🌈

🥎Hadley🥎

❤️Bailey❤️

🩰Audrey��

🦩Lailagh🦩

🐾Kailee🐾

🍉Macy🍉

⚽️Malia⚽️

Layna⚽

Fiona😜

🏀Brooke🏀

🌸Lily🌸

🌊Brooklyn

🐷Tinzley

🤗Emilio🤗

🦖Gisella 🦖

🦋Nolah 🌼

💅illy💅

🌺Khloe🌻

🐛Eisley🦋

🐸Alyssa🪱

🦕Avery🐋

☁️macey☁️

🐳Bella🐳

💛Tarah🍄

🧊Eli🧊

🙃Peyton🙃

🏈 Will 🤪

⚽️Marvin🔥

⚽️Dominic🥶

⚽️Parker😝

⚽️Noah 🤡

⚽️Caden 🇮🇪

⚽️Brady🤨

🏈Nate🥍

🐓Conrad🐔

😏Ishan🎾

🏀Drew😭

🏈Gavin🏀

🍓Mia🍓

⚾️Gavin🏀

⚽️Davis🏈

🏋️‍♀️Marc🤼

🏀Quinn🏀

🏀Liam🥍

🏒Jack⚾️

🏒Joey🏈

😎Carson🦆

🌸Isabella🌸

🐢Ava🐢

🧸Makayla🧸

⚽Evangeline👑

🌸 Beatrix🌸

🐸丂ㄖ千|乇🐸

🦑 LuCiA🐳

🐬Claire🐬

🐱Stella🐱

🐧Max🐧

🐾 Abby-Rose🐶

💛Sadie🌸

⚽️Amelia⚽️

🎬Daphne🎬

😂N҉a҉d҉i҉a҉😂

🥎Hailey🥎

🥵Zoey🥵

🥶Kylie 🤫

😏Phoenix🏐

🧃Olivia🧃

🤍Evy🤍

😋Natalie😎

🌈Ailey🌈

🏀Sophie🥎

🥎Julia🏐

🥎Abby🏒

🏐Lily🥎

🥺Claire🥍

🤪Ava🦋

⚾️rylan🏒

🥓Daniel🏒

😤Brady🥶

💴Wesley🐤

Colton💪

💞Leighton💞

❤️Trinity❤️

🥎Ava🥎

⚽️Gracie⚽️

🐶Anna🐶

😎Molly😎

🌸Taylor 🌸

✨Greta✨

🇸🇪Jordan🇸🇪

🌑🐺Natalie🐺🌑

😍Olivia😍

🌺Dailyn 🌺

🩰Whitney🩰

🍩Harper🍩

❤️Kaylee💞

🏀Ava🐶🐔

🍉Charlee🍉

🐻Bridget🐻

🌮Jacqueline 🌯

🦒McKinley⭐️💫

🌻Alli👭

⚽️Emery🐶

🦆liv🏒

🍓Evie🍓

🏐Roci🐶

🐵Alivia⚽️

🐱 Aria 🏊‍♀️

🐢Maggie🍌

🍄 Evelyn 🍄

👾Isaac 👾

🍕Pearl 🍕

🐹Margaret 🐹

🥋Zoe🥋

🙄Piper🙄

👩🏻‍🎨Siri👩🏻‍🎨

♋️Piper♋️

👩🏻‍🎨🥞🥗🍕🍝🍬Siri🛼⛸️⛷️🛹🎨

😺Maya😺"

temped to put my name and pass it on now

#chain mail #wtf maya??#okay but why is it so long #sobbing

4 notes · View notes