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cripplecharacters · 3 days

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Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.

Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.

Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.

I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.

One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)

While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.

Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).

Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)

I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.

I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)

I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?

Hello,

before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.

You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange. If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.

Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?

Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.

Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.

So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.

If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.

To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.

If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.

Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.

If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...

Actual Answers! Hooray

what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?

Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.

Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.

I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.

The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.

Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.

I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.

This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.

In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.

The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.

If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!

mod Sasza

[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #disfiguremisia #tw ableism #long post

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prismatic-bell · 15 days

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IMPORTANT REMINDER TO MY EUROPEAN FOLLOWERS AND OTHER TUMBLR DENIZENS FROM AN AMERICAN DESERT-DWELLER:

Climate change is a bitch and summer is coming. If you don’t already have an air conditioner and/or fans, NOW is the time to get them.

THINGS YOU SHOULD BE SHOPPING FOR NOW:

—clothes made of cotton or linen

—air conditioner

—fans

—frozen meals that can be cooked in the microwave

—potable bottled water; you want five days’ worth per person and pet in your household

—bottled fruit juices; it does not matter if these are sugar-added because you’ll want the electrolytes

—electrolyte drinks

—electrolyte pills (you can get these online, I get mine from Amazon)

—popsicle molds to use with fruit and juice

—ice cube trays

—nonperishable salty snacks like peanuts

—one charger brick per adult in case of rolling blackouts or power outages; charge these at the beginning of May, and drain them via use once a month if they’re not needed

YOUR TO-DO LIST:

—check your home’s HVAC system if you didn’t do it at the beginning of winter. Make sure all the filters are clean and replace them if needed

—check the seals on your sinks and bathtub in case you have to run water to handle shortages

—make and freeze meals you can cook in the microwave or simply defrost. Remember to select light summer fare, not hearty winter soups and gravies

—purchase and freeze lunch meats and cheeses you can defrost and use this summer for sandwiches when it’s hot

—assemble your check-in list: elderly, pregnant, disabled, and immunocompromised friends and relatives who may struggle to get things they need when the heat wave hits. Have this list posted and ready to go through daily once the heat gets high. DON’T JUST ASSUME YOU WILL REMEMBER. WRITE IT ALL DOWN.

—create a list of emergency contacts in case of fire, heat stroke, and other heat-related emergencies. This should include your local version of 911 (I think in most of Europe it’s 112, but don’t rely on me as an American, LOOK IT UP NOW before you need it), your doctor’s phone number, and two emergency contacts. Keep it in a place where it can be easily found if someone needs to make these calls on your behalf.

—ask your doctor for an additional prescription for any medications you take, and fill it now. Extreme heat can cause disruptions in the supply chain. Make sure you cycle these meds; that’s to say, always use your oldest bottle first so you don’t end up with expired meds in an emergency.

—stock your first-aid kit. If you don’t have one, now is a good time to make one.

—if you own a car, get your yearly maintenance done now. You don’t want to be dealing with an inoperable vehicle if you need to evacuate.

Staying safe this summer starts now. Get your prep done.

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satoruhour · 8 months

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geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him.

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡

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breadbrobin · 4 months

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call it what you want

luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

[fem!daughter of aphrodite reader]

summary: he fell first, you fell harder, and all at once.

warning: tooth-rotting fluff. literally i think that’s it it’s just sickeningly cute

word count: 2.1k

(the luke brainrot is so real i wrote this at like 4am last night plsss)

——————————————

luke castellan thought you could have hung the stars in the sky. he wouldn’t know any different, nor would he care to find out. in his mind, you were perfect. the most perfect, in fact.

there was one person that no one could hate at camp, and that was you. a friend to all who’d have you, a sister to those who needed you, and whatever you were to luke.

not even you understood the nature of your relationship with him.

years of friendship slowly became changed, twisted, slightly more than you’d bargained for. it was a happy change. realising you were in love with luke castellan was an ever-continuous process—a little one day, a little more another. but for luke… gods, realising he was in love with you came as easy as breathing. every smile on your lips, every laugh, every surreptitious look across rooms set his heart aflame. fluttering, dancing, swirling.

it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. you did. you surely did. but time hadn’t been kind to your heart and children of aphrodite have never been truly lucky in love. helping others achieve their loves was more common. more often than not, you and your siblings were happy with just that.

“anyone you got your eye on?” you asked one day as you sat with luke on the dock. your bare feet dangled into the water, toes just touching the cool surface.

“maybe. maybe not. when are you leaving?” he avoided the question, gazing out at the water and squinting in the glare of the sun.

“two weeks. i’m staying for my birthday this year.” you looked over at him. “you can tell me who it is, you know? i won’t laugh, i promise.”

he shot you an exasperated look. “what makes you think there is someone, princess?”

you lean over and nudge his arm teasingly, missing the blush on his face. “you’ve been distracted lately. quiet. you smile more though, and i’ve seen you blushing. who is it?”

“maybe i’m sick. what if i’m dying, y/n? then what? you’re assuming i’m in love when i’m actually dying?”

you raised your hands mockingly. “hey, you’re the one who mentioned love, pal. not me. ask yourself about that one.”

he rolled his eyes and elbowed you gently with a soft smile. his smiles were always soft, you realised. gentle and kind—two words you’d use to describe luke castellan any chance you got. you looked at him in the sunlight. and pretty, you thought. gentle, kind and pretty.

late nights were always for thinking.

you’d had trouble sleeping since you were a kid. not just the typical demigod issues with nightmares, but difficulty falling asleep in the first place. when those times struck, and the late hours before midnight slipped by, your thoughts wandered.

as always, your thoughts circled a few items; your family, your friends, then, always, luke.

he was separate to your friends, always had been. you didn’t really know why.

gentle, kind and pretty, you recalled. it had been a few days since the lake and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about who he was in love with. was there some person out there at camp who held his heart, truly and deeply? why did your chest ache? were you having a heart attack?

you pressed your fingers to your pulse point in concern, then pulled them away after a few seconds. you were fine. why did you feel like that?

no one ever said children of aphrodite weren’t oblivious to their own feelings.

time ticked by into the small hours of the morning, and still you couldn’t find sleep.

you rolled out of bed and stepped into your slippers, pulling a fluffy robe around your body and stepping out into the warm night. the air was still and calm, a juxtaposition to your whirling mind as you crossed the camp, stepping down paths and stepping over tree roots in a manner you’d memorised from countless treks on similar nights.

the hermes cabin was always warmer than your own, but tonight the heat was almost stifling. you could feel the heat heavy in the air as you breathed, and sweat beaded on your lip as you crossed the cabin silently to luke’s bed.

he was sleeping half sitting up, a colouring book and set of pencils splayed out on his lap. it was one you’d bought him for his birthday years ago. you had no idea he even used it.

quietly, you packed away the pencils and put them and the book on the side table. as you did, luke’s eyes cracked open. he frowned.

“y/n? are you okay?” he rubbed his eyes, sitting up straight and stretching his neck.

“can’t sleep,” you whispered.

he nodded and pushed his sheets off. he pulled a sweatshirt on and led you out of the cabin.

this was normal for you both. if one couldn’t sleep, you’d find the other and keep each other company until you felt you could rest. it was always nice knowing someone was there to talk to, or even just sit with. there was never resentment, never irritation from the other person. you would always come find each other. finding each other was like second nature to the two of you. you swore you could find luke in any situation, with your eyes closed, all your senses blotted out, by instinct and connection alone. you could find luke castellan without even a second thought.

you sat on the porch of the cabin with your legs hanging over the edge. luke’s legs were crossed.

“what are we doing for your birthday?” he asked finally.

you shrugged. “nothing, probably. maybe i’ll get some cake. i don’t know.”

“you didn’t do anything last year,” he protested. “you need to this year. it’s the big 18.”

“we didn’t do much for your eighteenth.”

he shrugged. “we did more than nothing, though, pretty girl. come on, we have to do something.”

you shook your head. “you wanna do something, you can plan it, pretty boy. i don’t mind.”

he sighed dramatically, leaning back and lying down on the rough wood. “fine. i will.”

you laughed quietly and lay back next to him, staring up at the wooden overhang above you.

you could feel his body heat against your arm as it lay between you. he was like a furnace, honestly, always radiating heat. it was nice in winter, but oftentimes stifling in summer. this was not one of those times. instead, you revelled in the closeness between you and almost—selfishly, confusingly—wished you were closer. maybe even close enough to touch.

your birthday was a quiet affair. your siblings wished you happy birthday and gave you a handful of small gifts, mostly beauty products and clothes that would fit you perfectly, even a cute bikini you put on under your clothes, and then you all went on with your day.

it was nice, honestly, getting well wishes but little attention. you needed no celebration or pizzazz, just friends, smiles and the occasional hug.

arms wrapped around your waist from behind. you yelped in shock and turned around, finding yourself face to face with luke. he had a bright smile on his face and a smudge of glitter on his cheek.

you reached up and ran your finger over it, trying gently to remove some to no avail. “you have glitter.”

“i have glitter everywhere. i guess that’s what you get for asking one of my siblings for wrapped paper.” he removed his arms from your waist to reveal a poorly wrapped gift in purple glittery paper.

you laughed, taking it. “i’m surprised you haven’t got more of it on you.”

“oh, believe me, princess, i do.” he cringed, stepping back slightly. “happy birthday.”

you smiled up at him and opened the present, ignoring the glitter sticking to your hands and the warmth in your chest and cheeks.

he thought you looked like the sun had come down to earth.

it was a colouring book and a set of pencils. you smiled widely and flipped through the pages, revealing beautiful art. “you remembered i wanted one?”

“yeah, mostly because you kept stealing mine to colour in,” he teased. “but of course i did.”

you reached out and hugged him. “thank you, luke!”

“come on,” he pulled back and took your hand. “present isn’t done yet.”

“what have you planned?” you groaned half-heartedly as he pulled you through camp, jogging slightly to keep up with his long strides.

“don’t sound so scared, princess, it’s a good thing. i promise.”

you just sighed with a smile and let him lead you to the dock.

there was a small basket at the end of it.

you gasped excitedly. “luke, you…”

“happy birthday, y/n.” he sat down and pulled you gently down to sit next to him. he opened the the picnic basket and handed you a sandwich and a mini juice box with a bashful grin. “i would’ve sprung for coke but mr d. has a monopoly on the stuff around here.”

you laughed slightly and began eating, sitting cross-legged and looking out at the lake. the sun beat down on your back and your entire body felt warm. you suddenly weren’t sure how much of that warmth was from the sun, and how much of it was from love.

love.

whoa.

you froze with your juice box halfway to your lips.

luke looked over at you. “you okay?”

you nodded slowly, eyes wide, and set down your juice and sandwich. “i wanna swim.”

he frowned. “okay? now?”

you nodded and stood up. you were wearing your new bikini anyway, so you just pulled your shirt over your head and dropped your shorts next to it. “you coming?”

his eyes were slightly wide, but he nodded and stood up, setting his food down too and removing his over clothes.

you sat down on the dock and slid into the water. it was cold, but more refreshing than shocking. you swam out a few paces as luke jumped in directly, the splash hitting you.

“luke!” you gasped as he surfaced.

he just laughed. “sorry, princess. you’re in the water anyway.”

you pouted at him, but couldn’t stay mad, instead, you watched him as he floated a few feet from you.

he looked confused. “are you okay? was it the sandwich?”

you shook your head. “the sandwich was fine. i’m just…” you pursed your lips and swam slightly closer. “was it me?”

he frowned even deeper. “was what you?”

“when i asked you the other day, you said you were in love with someone. was it me?”

you felt a little bad for putting him on the spot as he looked away, abashed, but when he looked back at you, eyes strong and jaw set, and said, “yes,” you didn’t regret a thing.

“why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

“why not?” he shrugged. “why does the sun shine? why does the wind blow? just because that’s the way things are. and i guess… yeah, me being in love with you is the way it is.”

you were silent for a moment, a small smile on your face. “well, that’s good then. i’m not sure how long this has actually been a thing, luke castellan, but i guess that me being in love with you is also… just the way it is.”

he swam slightly closer, a smile breaking across his face. gentle, kind, pretty. “yeah?”

“yeah, pretty boy. now kiss me. it’s my birthday, after all.”

“yes ma’am,” he grinned. one of his hands slid around your waist, warm as ever in the cold water, and he pulled you closer to him. he savoured the moment for a beat, just studying your face, memorising the look in your eyes, the sun on your skin and the soft smile on your lips. then he pressed his lips to yours.

you finally understood what people meant when they said ‘fireworks’. they were right. kissing luke was like playing with fire or dancing in the rain, or watching christmas lights twinkle. it was exhilarating, sweet and safe all at the same time; pure and honest love. and he was one damn good kisser.

when he pulled away you were out of breath, treading water still. you swam backwards, pulling him with you by the hand on the back of his neck until you were in the cool shade of the dock, using it to keep you afloat. it was much colder under there, but at least now you had him to keep you warm.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #pjo #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

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starkwlkr · 1 month

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fever dream | sebastian vettel

part 2 part 3

warnings: toxic soon to be ex husband who cheats on reader (if i miss anything, let me know!!)

update: i decided to make this into a series, thanks for reading!! you can read it here!

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yourusername a short trip back home 🤍

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yourusername thanks lew! miss you and roscoe 🤍

lewishamilton roscoe and i miss you more

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“luke, alison! your aunt y/n is here!” your sister yelled as she opened the door to her home. in a matter of seconds, loud footsteps were heard running down the stairs. “no running!”

but still the kids didn’t listen, they were excited to see their aunt. “hey, my babies! oh my god, you two have grown so much. stop growing!” you hugged your niece and nephew.

“i’m almost as tall as mom!” alison, the younger sister, said.

“liar, that’s just what dad says to make you feel better. i’m going to grow more than you and then i’ll be taller than you.” luke teased.

“you both can be tall, but never as tall as me.” you joked as you placed a kiss on their cheeks.

“are you going to stay with us forever?” alison asked innocently. “dad said that you don’t want to stay with your husband anymore and you’re going to stay with us.”

“alison!”

the truth was hard for little kids to understand. yes, you were going to stay with your sister for a few days and yes, you didn’t want to stay with your husband anymore, but it was a bit more complicated than that. your husband had cheated, lied, manipulated you and you had enough. he was the reason you couldn’t come back to the sport you loved and worked your whole life for.

“well i am going to be staying here, but not forever. i just needed a break from him, it’s normal.” you tried to explain to the girl.

“but my mom and dad don’t take breaks?”

“alison, just go to your room, you too luke, please. dinner is going to be ready in an hour.” your sister said, feeling embarrassed that alison would ask those questions.

“what did i do?” the older boy whines as he and his sister walked up to their rooms.

“i’m sorry. i spoke to jack the night you called. we were cleaning up the table after dinner, i assume she heard.” your sister explained.

“it’s okay, they’ll understand when they’re older. not everyone is cut out to be loved . . .”

or a mother.

only a few people had known about your issues with infertility, your sister and lewis being two of them. after you retired from f1, you were sure that in a couple months, you were going to be busy with doctor’s appointments, buying baby clothes and building a crib, but none of that happened. after a year of trying, you were convinced you weren’t meant to be a mom.

you thought about returning to the track, after all many drivers returned after saying they were retiring, why couldn’t you? but that plan was spoiled by the man you thought loved you.

“you can’t go back, you don’t belong there. it’s a man’s sport. you’re probably going to crash in the first lap anyways.”

you didn’t know why you stayed with him, but you did. maybe it was the promises he kept telling you about or the hopefulness that one day you would become parents and maybe he would change. but again, none of that happened.

“um, i have to call someone. i’ll be right back. excuse me.” you told your sister as you walked to the patio door and exited the house. without hesitating, you clicked on a familiar contact. you held your phone against your ear and waited for the person on the other end to pick up. it felt like forever, but eventually they picked up the call.

“hello?”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sv5 #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel one shot #f1 smau #sebastian vettel smau

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theemporium · 2 months

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[5k] luke hughes swore he would never tell another soul and take his confession to the grave. that ends as an epic fail as he tells a really pretty girl his most embarrassing secret. luckily for him, she seems pretty eager to help him out.

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It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it was. It really fucking was.

It wasn’t always a big deal. When he was in high school, everybody was just like him. Or at least, most people were. HIs friend group were. And they would always talk about how fun college would be, how everything would change, how everyone grew up and just did it.

And then he went to college and nothing really changed. It was a bit embarrassing, it made his cheeks burn bright red whenever he spoke about it. But it also wasn’t the most unbelievable thing. Between keeping his GPA up, his training regime and the countless games during the season, it wasn’t shocking to anyone that he didn’t have as much free time as movies liked to make it seem like.

But then he moved up. He went from being a kid with a dream to actually living that dream and beyond. A joke from his childhood became a reality when he found himself on the ice with his older brother, wearing the same jersey as his older brother. Suddenly, it was all real and intense and he was in it properly.

But, fuck, it was embarrassing that he was in the National Hockey League and he was a fucking virgin.

In theory, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t change the way he played or his performance on the ice. It didn’t affect his professional life in any way, shape or form. But it still made him want to curl up in a corner and shrivel his existence away whenever he thought about it too long.

And it wasn’t like it was obvious. He wasn’t announcing it to the world and rambling on about it in interviews. But the amount of jokes people made about women throwing themselves at his feet or having a turnstile of people in his bed felt like he might as well be.

The awkward laughs and strained smiles would only take him so far before someone caught on.

And that might have been the worst part—the fact that nobody knew. Not his friends in high school nor the ones he made in college. None of his teammates. Not even his brothers (though, the idea of him even telling them whether or not he was a virgin was an experience he would like to avoid all together).

Nobody in the fucking world knew Luke Hughes was a virgin except him and, in a weird way, it was kind of fucking lonely.

Or at least, nobody else knew until he met you.

…

The night he met you had been a few days after the Devils had been kicked out of the playoffs.

Despite the loss, Nico wanted one last team celebration to sign off a good season. Because yes, it fucking sucked that they were knocked out and it sucked they wouldn’t be the ones to lift the Stanley Cup this year. But they still played well, they deserved to appreciate that, to appreciate each other.

And, on a more personal level, it was a chance to celebrate with the NHL team he could now call his home.

He was in the big leagues now. He was in the NHL and he was a professional hockey player and, by the power of some fucking superior being he did not know, he was lucky enough to share a team with at least one of his brothers.

It still felt like a dream.

And with that dream came the joys and perks of being a New Jersey Devil—like not being ID’d in the bar the team commonly visited.

“Takin’ it all in?”

He tore his eyes away from the surrounding bar to look at his brother, perched on the edge of the pool table Nathan and Kevin were currently competing on. He had been happy to just watch, observe—for lack of better terms—take it all in, like Jack assumed.

Instead, he just retorted with, “it’s a bar. Not much to take in that I haven’t seen before.”

“Okay, college boy,” Jack snorted, his cheeks flushed the same shade of red as the vodka cranberries he had been drinking all night. “I meant the big leagues.”

Luke resisted the urge to snort. “Ask me again in a year when it’s actually sunk in.”

Something in Jack’s face softened. “I’m glad you’re here, Moose.”

His throat felt a little tight but he still smiled. “Me too.”

He had assumed that was the end of the conversation, but that was Luke’s first mistake. He hadn’t paid much attention to the way Jack’s eyes roamed around the bar, narrowed like he was looking for something or, in this case, someone.

“What do ya think about her?”

Luke blinked, looking at his brother with a confused glance before he followed his line of vision to some blonde settled against the wall on the other side of the bar.

“What about her?”

Jack shot him a look. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Luke hesitated, almost as though it was a trick question. “Yes?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced,” he commented. “So, blonde isn’t your type. What is then? Brunettes? Redheads? Miscellaneous?”

“No, I—” Luke frowned. “I’m surprised you even know what miscellaneous means.”

Jack punched his arm in response.

“Why are you asking about my type?” Luke questioned, something that felt a lot like uncertainty bubbling in his stomach.

Jack let out a deep sigh, prolonging it to properly encapture his annoyance. “I’m trying to help you get laid, bud.”

Luke froze.

There was no way Jack could know. He knew that. He did. Logically, it was impossible for his brother to know he was a virgin when Luke had genuinely never admitted as much beyond the age of seventeen. But here he is, seemingly trying to find him someone to sleep with. There was no way he could know, there was no way Jack knew—

“I mean, you’re in the fucking league now, bud. Milk it a little, have some fun!” Jack continued, lost in his own rambles to even notice the way Luke’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I’m sure college was fun and all, but this is better!”

Luke tried to let out a laugh. “I think I’m alright for tonight.”

Jack huffed out in annoyance. “Don’t be a bore! Luke, you’re in the NHL. You just fucking played in the playoffs! Enjoy yourself, man.”

“I am enjoying myself,” Luke countered.

“You’ve been drinking the same beer since we got here,” Jack snapped back with a knowing look. “And I know it tastes like shit because I did the exact same thing when I first ordered a drink here. I’m trying to be your guru, help you avoid the mistakes I made.”

“My guru,” Luke repeated with a snort. “More like an unwanted Cupid.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “C’mon—”

“Focus on yourself.”

“It’s my duty as a brother—”

“I am not staying to listen to this,” Luke grumbled, batting away his brother’s hands as he began to make his way to the bar. As much as he hated to admit it, Jack was right—this beer tasted horrible and not even the tiny sips he had been taking were going to save it.

He settled himself on a free spot at the bar, his elbows placed on the slightly sticky countertop as he peered over to try find a bartender. He saw a few on the other side of the bar finishing off a few drinks and accepted the small wait, a little lost in his own thoughts and whether he wanted to try another drink instead of just settling for something non-alcoholic when a hand settled on his back.

“There you are, babe!”

Luke frowned, turning around to find you staring right back at him with a grin on your face. Honestly, he was expecting to turn around and let the person realise they had made a mistake. But your smile remained on your face, though the wide eyes staring back at him were a little distressing.

“Uh, I think you—” But he was cut off by another voice, a much deeper one this time.

“This is your boyfriend?”

The man was average height and fairly built, but that was all he had going for him. His shirt was definitely a size too small to make him look bigger and the chunky chain looked nothing short of tacky. And Luke may have been in his presence for less than thirty seconds, but the body spray was overwhelming and pungent and made him want to plug his nose.

Now, Luke may be a little slow but he isn’t dumb.

He may be deeply confused by the sudden promotion to boyfriend from a stranger but it didn’t take long for Luke to realise the wide, distressing eyes were a cry for help and the walking embodiment of Axe body spray in a tight shirt was the reason.

“Uh, yeah!” Luke cleared his throat a little, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders in the least awkward way he could possibly achieve. “She’s my girl! Uh, girlfriend! She’s my—” His cheeks burned but he couldn’t stop his mouth from moving. “She’s my babe!”

The man glanced between you and Luke for a few moments before rolling his eyes, muttering something under his breath about wasting his time before he disappeared into the throng of people crowded by the bar.

“What a dick,” you murmured and it almost made Luke jump when he remembered you were still beside him, that his arm was still around your shoulders. You turned around to look at him once you knew the other guy was gone, and your smile seemed softer now. “Thank you for that, really. You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s no biggie,” Luke replied, cringing a little before he quickly continued. “Thanks for giving me the honour of being your fake boyfriend.”

You snorted. “Yeah, well, you have a friendly face. You looked like you would go along with it.”

His cheeks burned warmer. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” you grinned before turning to settle in the spot next to him, fingers tapping on the bar counter. “Let me buy you a drink to thank you for your services?”

Luke began shaking his head. “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Please,” you insisted, a softer expression on your face. “It would make me feel better for dragging you into my scheme.”

“I—” He cleared his throat, hoping to some superior being that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “O-Okay.”

Your grin widened. “Brilliant. What do you want?”

“A Coke.”

“Really?”

“Yes?”

“Okay, no judgement, just surprised,” you said, leaning over the bar to place your drink order along with his before you turned back to the boy. “So, do I at least get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”

HIs lips twitched upwards. “Luke.”

“Luke,” you repeated before telling him your name, something gleaming in your eyes when you did. “So, Luke, what brings you to a bar on a Monday night to drink Coke?”

“I’m here with some work friends,” he lied easily, not really one to play the professional hockey player card (despite Trevor’s insistence that it was expected to be used for this reason exactly). “Just enjoying the night before we all head off for the summer.”

“Hm, here with your work buddies but staying sober and standing alone at a bar,” you mused. “You’re quite intriguing, Luke.”

“I think that’s a compliment,” he murmured with a frown.

“It is,” you assured him with a smile.

Luke opened his mouth to say something before the familiar voice of his brother reached him.

“LUKEY BOY IS GETTING SOME!”

He shut his eyes, muttering a list of curses under his breath before he finally looked at you with a sheepish expression. “I’m so sorry about him. Just ignore him, he’s a little drunk and—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you assured him with a laugh. “Work buddy?”

“Mhm,” Luke confirmed with a nod. “And my older brother.”

“That sounds like an intense work environment,” you commented.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, but there was still a smile on his face. “I wouldn’t blame you for making a run for it now while you have the chance. Jack will only get worse.”

You waved him off, smiling. “Your brother isn’t scaring me off,” you assured him. “Plus, I said I was intrigued and I’m enjoying talking to you. Makes it seem a lot more believable that you’re my boyfriend if that other dude is lingering around.”

“Yeah, totally,” Luke agreed, something warm bursting in his stomach at the fact you wanted to keep talking to him.

And despite what Jack and the others assume, nothing more happened between the two of you than just talking. It was bittersweet, in a way. Because Luke really enjoyed talking to you that night, even if he knew he would probably never see you again.

But it was nice and it replayed in his head a lot more than he cared to admit that summer.

…

He assumed it was guaranteed that he would never see you again.

So, it was pretty shocking when he did, in fact, see you again at a house party held by one of the boys of all fucking places in the pre-season.

As the new season approached and the overwhelming realisation that he was about to enter his rookie season of the NHL hit him, Luke didn’t even hesitate to accept the invitation for the ‘small get together’ with the boys. These were his teammates, these were the people he was going to have to trust and navigate on the ice with. It seemed like a nice idea to have a few chilled hangouts whilst training dragged everyone back to New Jersey.

What Jack and everyone else had failed to mention was the fact a ‘small get together’ did not just mean the team like he assumed. It meant a house full of people that Luke certainly didn’t know or recognise, but seemed to know exactly who he was.

He was only slightly ashamed to admit that he clung onto Jack’s side as long as he could. But his brother was a social butterfly who liked to jump between different crowds and it was too much for Luke. Instead, he had settled near a couch where John and Kevin had been rambling away to each other when Jack suddenly appeared—out of thin air—with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, Rusty, is that not your girl from the bar?”

Luke’s brows furrowed together in confusion. “Huh?”

But Jack didn’t say much, just nudging his little brother to look over his shoulder. His lips parted again, prepared to tell Jack that he was drunker than he expected him to be after a few beers, only to find the words stuck in the back of his throat when he turned around and saw you.

He had thought about you more than he cared to admit over the summer. Just random little flashes of the conversations you shared. It was stupid, and a little pathetic, but you just felt…different—in the least cliche way possible.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly his cheeks just heated at the sight of you.

No, correction: it was really fucking embarrassing.

“Aw, did Lukey invite his lil’ crush?” Jack teased, reaching out to mockingly pinch his cheeks but Luke batted his hand away just in time.

“Shut up,” he grumbled before clearing his throat, turning to faze his brother again. “I didn’t. I–I don’t even know why she is here.”

Jack shot him a look. “Go on, then.”

Luke frowned. “What?”

“You are actually clueless,” Jack grumbled under his breath before giving him a hearty shove. “Go talk to her!”

His eyes widened. “What?!”

“Go talk to her,” Jack repeated, not understanding the panic in his younger brother. “You guys were hitting it off at the bar, what’s the big deal? Maybe you can hook up with her again.”

“I—” He started before realising this was not the time to delve into the same argument they had had since the night at the bar. “It’s fine, she probably doesn’t even remember me.”

His brother scoffed. “You’re shitting me, right?”

Luke blinked. “No?”

“Dude, she was all over you!” Jack insisted, giving him another shove that had him stumbling slightly. “Go!”

Luke could feel his cheeks heating up. “Jack—”

“It’s my big brother duty to help you!”

Shove.

“Jack, fuck off. It’s not gonna happen.”

Shove.

“Yes, it will. Stop being a coward.”

Shove.

“Can you stop? I am not—”

Shove.

“Go talk to her!”

Shove.

“No—”

Except, the little shoves and lack of balance with the drinks he had been nursing through the night seemed to catch up on Luke. He stumbled back, his footing gone and his free hand reaching out to grasp Jack or something to stop him from falling. But it was too late. He was stumbling and his drink was sloshing and it went all over—

You.

It went all over you because now you were right there, right in front of him, having just walked across the room to come and see him.

“Oh shit,” Jack muttered from behind him.

You looked down at your shirt—your very white shirt that now had some atrocious red stain splattered across the front from the cocktail John had made him—and stared in shock.

Luke felt his whole body curl in on itself, his face burning and his chest feeling oddly tight. “I am so sorry—”

But, to his fucking shock (because you seemed to shock him a lot, if he was honest), you looked up at him and laughed.

“Unlucky timing, huh?” You joked but Luke didn’t feel like laughing.

“I can—” But he paused, not even sure what he was going to say.

“Liking the colour red a little too much there, Cherry!” A voice from somewhere in the crowd—Luke genuinely wasn’t sure where—called out and your face brightened.

“It’s a good thing I can pull it off!” You retorted, unfazed by the name.

Cherry.

Usually, Luke would chalk it up to his memory being fairly shit and the months that had passed since that night in the bar making him confuse your name for something else. Except, the boy had practically relived that night in his head on a constant loop. Every word. Every sentence. Every second of it.

Pathetic? Yes.

Helpful? Probably not in any way, shape or fucking form except for the fact he was certain your name was not Cherry. He was more than certain. At least, he was certain that wasn’t the name you had told him.

There were so many logical and simple reasons, he knew that deep down. But right now, Luke was embarrassed and flustered and he had this horrible inkling that you told him a fake name in case you thought he was a creep at the bar like the guy he saved you from and—

Yeah, Luke really didn’t like the idea of that. He didn’t like the idea of being paired in a category with that man. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that he made you uncomfortable enough to give him a fake name, even if he had given you no real reason to do otherwise.

Someone pushed through the crowd as Luke continued to spiral in his own thoughts, unable to even get a coherent sentence out when Nico glanced between you and him. He let out a sigh, shaking his head as he offered you an apology before he turned to Luke.

“You can show her where the bathroom is, right?”

And, fuck, he really thought this was the closest he could reach to ever feeling something close to hatred towards his captain.

Luke nodded his head, unable to get a word out and nodded towards the stairs.

You seemed to catch his hint well enough as you turned to head towards the stairs. Until your hand was reaching back, taking his in your grasp and intertwining your fingers together and Luke’s brain short circuited all over again.

“Get it, Moose!”

Jack was pretty high on that almost-hate list too.

Luke felt like his body was on autopilot as he moved towards the stairs, letting you lead him up with your hands still connected until you reached the top. You looked at him expectantly and he led you towards the bathroom—one of the larger ones because he thought he would die if he was trapped in a small, enclosed space with you after he just spilled his drink all over you.

He opened the door, flicking the light on before stepping aside and letting you head inside. Except, the world seemed to have something against him, you dragged him into the bathroom behind you, your hands still connected, and grinned at him.

“Help a girl out?”

Luke cleared his throat but nodded.

He tried not to think too hard when you eventually dropped his hand. He tried not to think too hard when you locked the bathroom door. He tried not to think too hard as you glanced at him through the mirror.

And he was doing well until you went and pulled your shirt over your head.

His eyes widened, a spluttered noise of surprise leaving his lips as his eyes instantly snapped to the ceiling. But it was useless, he could already feel his blush crawling down his neck and burning hot.

“Relax,” you laughed. “I’m not giving you the full show. Just need to get this stain out.”

“Mhm,” he hummed but his eyes remained on the ceiling.

“Luke?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh.”

You let out a hum, like you didn’t quite believe him but you didn’t seem to push further. Instead, he heard the tap turn on and the water started running and suddenly, the bigger bathroom didn’t feel big enough.

“I’m not a creep!” He blurted out.

You paused. “Is that why you are staring at the ceiling? To prove you aren’t a creep?”

“No, well—” He cut himself off and let out a deep breath. “No, I just…your friend called you Cherry down there. You gave me a different name. I just…didn’t want you to think you had to give me a fake name because I was a creep. Granted, you don’t owe me anything but I just wanted to assure you—”

“Luke?”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’re a creep. And I didn’t lie about my name either,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “People just call me Cherry.”

And for a boy who ate, lived and breathed a sport that classically gave stupid nicknames to everyone and everything, he had never felt quite this dumb.

“Oh.”

“Are you going to look at me now?”

He waited for a moment. And then another. And then, before he chickened out of it, he lowered his gaze until he met yours—and didn’t let his eyes wander any further.

“You’re an interesting boy,” you mused, tilting your head to the side.

His brows furrowed together. “Thank you?”

You grinned at his response before you turned back to the sink, seamlessly continuing to scrub your shirt under the running tap.

Luke watched you for a few moments, trying to just stew in the silence and let you do your work. But the seconds kept ticking by and the silence was becoming more stifling and there was only so much he could handle before he wanted to rip his eyes out.

“I’m sorry about my brother, by the way,” he said when he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “He’s a lil’ enthusiastic but he means no harm.”

“He seems quite desperate to get you laid,” you noted, your eyes briefly finding him in the mirror again. “A lot of your friends do.”

His cheeks burned again. “They do that with everyone. They just like to be wingmen, you know?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly on him. “But it makes you uncomfortable.”

You say it like a fact, not a question.

Luke choked a little. “Well—”

“Why not just tell them to back off?” You questioned and Luke welcomed the fresh, bitter twinge of embarrassment that washed over him.

“Because they would ask questions,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just easier to let them mess about.”

You looked intrigued now. “Why?”

Luke shifted under the intensity of your gaze. “Because then they would ask why I didn’t want to hook up with anyone.”

You raised your brows. “Not a one-night stand kind of man?”

And honestly, he should have just cut the conversation there. He should have deflected the topic onto something else or gave some vague answer. Hell, even telling you to mind your own business was a better answer. But the alcohol made him feel buzzed, your presence was overwhelming and—for the first time in his life—Luke found himself blurting out the words he swore he would take to the grave.

“Because I’m a virgin.”

You blinked. And he fucking waited for it.

He waited for you to laugh. He waited for you to laugh and howl and cackle at his pathetic admission. To mock him, to tease him, to make him feel worse than he already felt. He waited and waited and waited.

And it never came.

“And you can’t tell them that?” You questioned.

“I, uh,” Luke shook his head, his stomach somersaulting inside him in the worst ways possible. “No, it’s a little…taboo in my line of work.”

You turned to actually look at him instead of gazing at him in the mirror. “Are you a sex worker?”

Luke spluttered, shaking his head. “What? No! No, I…I’m a hockey player.”

You frowned a little. “Hockey players can’t be virgins?”

“Well, it’s not like a set rule but like,” he paused, waving his hands around like that explained everything. But you still looked confused and Luke knew he had to keep talking. “Everyone just kinda expects hockey players to be some kind of…sex god. Or something. I don’t know. All I know is that it’s not really common to be a virgin in the league.”

“Okay,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest—where you still stood in only a bra covering yourself. “So, like, are you a virgin…by choice?”

“Oh my god,” Luke groaned, bringing his hands to cover his face before it got even more red.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way!” You assured him. “I was just curious.”

“Nobody was supposed to know,” Luke grumbled into his hands, but you seemed to understand him well enough.

“I won’t tell a soul,” you promised.

But the damage was done and Luke wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and drag him into the depths of the Earth.

He needed to get out of this bathroom. He needed to get out and go downstairs, rush through a flurry of goodbyes to the team before he quickly escaped and headed home where he could hide his embarrassment in a large tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream that certainly wasn’t in his meal plan.

He just needed to turn around, unlock the door and slip out before you had the chance to—

“What if I helped you?”

Yeah, that was not what he expected.

His hands dropped from his face as he stared at you, his expression almost blank except for the confusion shining in his eyes. “Huh?”

“What if I helped you?” You repeated.

“Helped me with what?”

“Being a virgin,” you said with a shrug. “It seems like it’s really important to you, or something. And I think you are bigging it up in your head a little more than necessary. Maybe you just need someone to give you a helping hand, you know? Guide you through it, help you learn. No pressure, yeah?”

He blinked. “And…you would do that?”

“Yeah, why not,” you answered honestly with a shrug of your shoulders. “You intrigue me, Luke.”

“I intrigue you,” he repeated slowly, and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not a bad thing to be intriguing.”

“It is when you make it sound like I’m some kind of experiment.”

You flashed him a softer smile and something in his chest eased a little. “You don’t have to say yes, it was just a suggestion. Just…a new friend helping her new friend out.”

New friend.

Luke swallowed. “And…what would you gain from this?”

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders again. “Honestly? I’ve had my fair share of disappointing experiences in bed by guys who think they are sex gods. Call it a gift to womankind if I help at least one guy be competent and capable in bed.”

He blinked. “Right. Gift to womankind. That’s me.’

You snorted. “Just think about it, yeah? Obviously, you can go about with whatever you are doing. Just a suggestion to make a casual thing out of it, to help take the stress away. It’s your choice, Luke.”

It was his choice.

He knew it was his choice and, despite knowing little about you, some stupid part of him trusted that you were being genuine. You were odd but you were sincere, and he knew your offer was sincere too. If he took you up on it, you would help him out. If he declined, you wouldn’t push the matter any further and just move on in your life.

No more words were exchanged after that, the offer lingering and the tap still running as the red stain showed no signs of budging under the soap and cold water. He knew he didn’t have to give you an answer there and then.

But the worst part was that Luke was pretty fucking sure he knew what his answer was the first time the offer left your lips.

And he pretty sure the remaining stain on your shirt was some sort of bad omen from the universe that already liked to tease him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He was fucking done being a twenty year old virgin and you were his solution to the problem.

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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atskiruma · 1 year

Text

his attempts at courting you

expl: he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile

a/n: it has come to my attention that the last ff i wrote, (snow day) was not very well depicted for all readers to enjoy, i want to apologize for that and promise that i will get better at trying to make sure everyone is able to read it and enjoy it, my writings are targeted for all | unfortunately, i can not edit it right now seeing as there's a poll going on, but once that poll is finished i will change my wording in the ff

ask me anything masterlist

second person writing no pronouns used

Zhongli often felt himself thinking about you more often while he was working around the parlor. Even seeking out your name in conversations and listening more attentively when someone was speaking about you. It didn't confuse him though, he was aware of his interest in you.

You opened up the warmth in his heart and welcomed him kindly every time you two saw each other. It made him happy to see you happy, and this was evident when flowers were delivered directly to your door one sunny afternoon.

"These are for you," The mail lady said before turning around and walking away to do more deliveries. You didn't even get to ask who they were from before she was gone. Staring down at the bouquet of tiger lilies in front of you, you could only assume that the bright orange and black colors could depict a certain someone's hair color.

It was a nice piece on your kitchen counter and went well with the other decorations spiraling around your house. That was, until the next morning, you were greeted again with another gift. A bright orange vase to compliment the tiger lilies you received the other day. It was funny, why was he going out of his way to send you such nice gifts?

You finally managed to confront him when you saw Childe and Zhongli sitting together on the seats of an outside cafe. Walking over and waving to the both of them. They greeted you back, and small talk was given for only a couple minutes.

"I actually came over here to thank Zhongli," This caught his attention, and he turned to look up at you, "I really loved the flowers you sent and the vase goes really well with them too!" You said while smiling.

He nodded back at you, seemingly collecting himself extremely quickly at the fact you figured out so quick who it was. "I'm glad you liked them," He said.

"I came to give you this in return," You said," "I know it's probably not as extravagant as the ones you gave me, but I like it." Handing over the small gift box, he opened it and smiled softly at the item. It was a small keychain, nothing special, and it was decorated with a lovely orange seem.

That same keychain would be hung up right next to his bedframe, along with variant letters you sent him on the table accompanying it.

Diluc was someone who took courting another person seriously. He found it tradition since his father had spoken so much of it when Diluc was younger. He always wanted to treat the one he loved with respect and be as much of a gentleman as possible.

This was why you were taking a stroll with him through his grapevines on a sunny afternoon. He offered for you to come down to the Winery a couple days ago and you had just gotten around to accepting his offer. His hand rested on your back as he took you through multiple different paths and explained everything. As you strolled, he talked about things concerning the vine, his profits, the seasons they needed to be planted, etc.

You smiled at him, knowing it was something he took dear to his heart, and listened very attentively to what he was saying. In reality, Diluc was really hoping that all he was talking about didn't bore you in any way.

Then, the next couple of hours were spent sitting in his large dining room, eating food made by the cooks in his home. It was nice, and you were very happy that he wanted to spend this much time with you. Diluc even found himself watching you eat here and there, asking you if the food was good or if you needed anything else in the time being.

After everything was over, and the night sky shined over the two of you as you stood outside his doors, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your hand. Telling you how much of a pleasure it was to have you here, and how he wished you could stay longer.

Diluc even offered to walk you home, tediously not taking no for an answer, he reached down to take your hand and hold it the whole walk home.

Alhaitham was very closed off when he first met you, he was closed off with anyone in general. He found it strange that you always seemed to be there when he was thinking about you, and when his eyes would try and search a room in the akademiya for you.

He realized that something had to be done about this, so, he did what any other raging nerd would do, and researched about it.

You also found it odd when you'd see him looking at you from across the library, or holding the door open for you whenever you'd walking behind him. Alhaitham always seemed like the guy who only cared about his own, yet he was so evident in helping you out here and there.

Helping you when you'd be confused about a book, rewording your essays to make them better. Alhaitham seemed to want to assist you with almost everything. This was no different than today.

You found yourself back at the library looking down at a long-written parchment on the forest rangers' activities. Trying to figure out how you could make this work in the essay you were conducting on Sumeru's forest.

This was when you heard the chair scrap right next to you, and looked up from where you had originally been focused. Alhaitham took his seat next to you, slightly taking up more space than necessary with his manspreading.

"Do you need help with that? It looks like a longer report than usual for you."

"Longer than usual?" You shot back, "Are you saying that I'm not capable of reading this?" His eyes widened a bit and he instantly tried to retort his original statement. "No, no, I thought- Well- You know you usually read shorter reports in order to get more details. I didn't think you'd take something this large to account."

His confession made you smile, and you leaned in closer, "How'd you know how I like my reports?" At the response with your cheeky grin, a blush formed on his cheeks before he looked away.

"Scholars are supposed to be attentive, it's natural to know a few things you prefer in order to work best with you."

The response he sent back your way caused you to roll your eyes and turn back to what you were originally doing. "To answer your question, no, I do not need help, but thank you for offering."

That didn't seem to make him budge, because he kept sitting there watching you copy down and write words from the book.

"You misspelled climate."

The sound of a book colliding with his head echoed throughout the library.

Ayato enjoyed your company, a lot, so much that he seeks you out anytime he and his sister go down to festivals or strolls through the city. He always wanted to start up a conversation with you, and if anyone else walked by anytime he'd be down there, Ayato would be right next to you listening with a smile at whatever you said.

Ayaka loved you too and found it amusing that her brother was so interested in you. She often found herself trying to spark up conversations with you, asking if her older brother proposed yet in a joking manner.

You laughed it off, Ayato was nice but you were sure he had other rich and important people to concern his love life with. He was just a very nice man to talk with here and there, and you didn't seem to notice that you were one of the few he'd actually seek out.

That was, until, every time he saw you, he came with some form of jewelry or expensive item to give you. Asking you how your day was, what you were doing, and if you wanted to come to spend some time up at the estate with him.

"What about Ayaka?" You said with a tilt of your head in confusion. He smiled back and said, "I'm sure she'd rather stay down here and explore more of the shops.

Ayaka would have loved to come along, but before she could even turn around, the two of you were already heading back up to the estate.

He catered to you, made sure you were comfortable, and even asked if you'd like anything from his personal chefs. It was a bit much to handle, seeing as you weren't used to living so luxurious, but he was very nice about it all and understood.

The catering didn't stop after that day either, more and more people began to wonder why the Kamisato siblings were spending so much more time outside their palace. Ayaka once mentioned that you loved a certain color, and the next day Ayato was handing you a box with that color, and a necklace with the pearl containing that color too.

He even found himself marching over to you when he saw someone speaking to you in a more flirtatious matter. Moving next to you and asking if everything was alright while his hand wrapped around your own.

#ayato imagines #diluc imagines #alhaitham imagines #zhongli imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #zhongli x reader #ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader

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mokulule · 7 months

Text

Take Out for Dummies - part 1

Ship: Dead on Main

“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.

“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.

Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.

“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”

The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”

Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.

Oo o oO

It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.

So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:

“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.

“What the-“

“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.

“Do you have a death wish?”

That for some reason brought a smile to his face.

Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”

Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.

“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”

“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.

Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-

No…

It couldn’t be…

He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…

“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”

Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”

Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.

“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”

Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.

Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.

“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.

“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.

Danny’s face brightened into a smile.

“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.

“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.

“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.

Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.

Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.

Oo o oO

Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.

It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.

As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.

Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.

All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.

He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.

With a sigh he pushed the button.

It rang three times before it connected.

“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.

“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”

“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.

“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.

Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?

“Yes.”

“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”

“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”

Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”

“’s fine.”

“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”

Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:

“Sure.”

“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”

With those words the call ended.

Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.

Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -

Subscribe to the masterpost here Next

#take out for dummies #dead on main #dp x dc #this is mostly just silly #but there is also some plot #because it assaulted me in a dark alley #anyways #hope you enjoyed

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woso-dreamzzz · 14 days

Text

Visit II

Fridolina Rolfö x Child!Reader

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You go to a Barcelona match

With Momma and Morsa in Madrid and you in Barcelona, Frido takes you to one of her games. Or, her team’s game because she’s got a little injury that keeps her off the squad for the week so she sits up in the box with you.

It’s not your first time at one of moster Frido’s games but it’s your first time at a Barcelona game. You like the jersey, you decide. It’s blue which is a Not-Wolfsburg colour but it’s also got red and that’s an Arsenal colour. The badge is cool too and you decide that Arsenal can be your English team and Barcelona can be your Spanish team like how Wolfsburg is your German team and Linköping is your Swedish team because that’s where Momma and Morsa first met.

Moster Frido isn’t playing today so you wear an Ingrid jersey instead. She’s starting today and, strangely, so is Mapi. That confuses you a little but you figure with Frido injured that Barcelona don’t have enough defenders to go around.

“It’s nice that Ingrid lets Mapi play with her,” You say as the whistle blows for the first half to begin,” Ingrid’s a good girlfriend.”

Frido laughs. “Don’t ever change, little monster,” She says. You don’t understand what’s funny but you assume it’s an adult thing that you’re still too little to know about.

Barcelona, you think, are much better than Arsenal. Not that Arsenal isn’t good but Barcelona is a lot more organised. They always know where each other are and they’re playing this first half like they actually know how to play football rather than having to settle into it like Arsenal do.

You cheer when Mapi passes the ball off to Ingrid, who weaves through the other team and passes it off to someone else. You don’t really remember much about the Barcelona team from the final against Not-Wolfsburg, not really. You don’t really know the players well but you know you’ll learn.

You’re good at learning. Morsa says it’s a good skill to have.

The person in goal is called Paños and you mark that in your brain because she’s very good. You prefer Zećira obviously but you think v is really good too and you want to watch a few more matches with her.

Barcelona scores while you think about it, some girl with Guijarro on her back.

The crowd goes wild, as does another little girl in the box. She’s wearing a Guijarro jersey like how you’re wearing an Engen one. She goes absolutely crazy. She waves a little flag and jumps up and down in joy.

“That’s little Nat,” Moster Frido says in her ear,” She’s Patri’s cousin.”

“Who’s Patri?”

Frido laughs. “The girl who just scored.”

Little Nat, as moster Frido calls her, keeps cheering and jumping around. You smile at that. That’s how you react when Momma scores.

“Do you want to go say hi?” Frido asks you and you think about it for a moment.

You could go say hi but you just move a bit closer to Frido, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t speak Spanish,” You whisper to her.

“That’s okay,” She says,” Little Nat speaks some English too. She’s very nice.”

You think about it again but the shy feeling doesn’t go away. “Maybe later.”

“Okay,” Frido says,” Later then.”

You settle more firmly at her side, though your eyes track Little Nat all the way back to her seat. You think, if you were a little braver and you spoke Spanish, you would talk to her. But you’re shy and you don’t speak Spanish so you don’t.

You focus back on the match and watch as Mapi makes a very good save for someone that doesn’t play football. It’s nice that she’s come out to support Ingrid and is on the pitch even though her job is to get tattoos and be a good girlfriend.

Every time you tell Frido that, she laughs and cuddles you nice and close in amusement.

The match ends with a very impressive score line for Barcelona and you cheer like everyone else when it’s over.

Frido takes you down onto the pitch.

Little Nat from earlier is there too, with her parents – though she abandons them to sprint to her cousin who scored the goal earlier.

You end up with Mapi and Ingrid. “Hi, Ingrid! Hi, Mapi!” You chirp, giving them both big hugs.

“Is that my jersey?” Ingrid teases and you nod.

“Uh-huh! It’s so cool! I like Barcelona.”

“That’s great!” Ingrid high fives you and you giggle.

You turn to Mapi. “It’s nice that Ingrid let you play with her. Say thank you, Mapi.”

“Ingrid didn’t let me play with her!” Mapi says,” This is my job! I play football!”

You give her a weird look. “Playing in the park isn’t the same as playing on the pitch,” You tell her,” But you’re a very good girlfriend for helping Ingrid on the pitch today. If you keep practicing really hard then maybe you can join a proper team one day too.”

“Guys!” Mapi complains,” Come on, help me out here! Tell her I’m a footballer!”

Ingrid and Frido are too busy laughing at Mapi’s outrage to help her out.

You’re insistent on your view that Mapi exists to get tattoos and be Ingrid’s girlfriend. There’s no way she’s a footballer and you refuse to accept any other alternative except maybe that her job is feeding the stray cats in the neighbourhood. That could be her job too.

Her cat, Bagheera, is very sweet. You think you might want a cat when you’re older though you think you also want a puppy too. You don’t know if they can live in the same house but you hope so because you like both cats and dogs.

You know Morsa doesn’t want any pets right now but you do so you’ll try to convince her to let you have a pet when you go back to London. That gives you enough time to think of a plan to convince her.

“Hey,” Mapi says,” Did you go and talk to Little Nat during the match? I think you’d really get on with her.”

You shake your head. You spare a glance over your shoulder at her. She’s on her feet now, her cousin having put her down but still keeps holding her hand. She’s staring back at you with a smile and waves.

You wave back to be polite but still feel a little shy and duck to hide behind Frido’s legs.

“Someone's a little shy,” Frido says to Mapi, looking down at you,” But that’s okay. I’m sure they can make friends another time.”

(You never get to make friends with Little Nat as a child but, one day, you make a girlfriend and then a wife of Talia).

“Next time then,” Mapi says,” I’m serious. I think you and Little Nat will be great friends one day.”

You peak out from Frido’s legs.

Little Nat is still looking at you. She waves again and you wave back before you spot someone off to the side.

You gasp and grab Frido’s hand, pulling her with you.

“It’s Caro!”

Caro is standing by the water cooler, drinking from a bottle but she turns at the sound of her name. She spots Frido, who indicates downwards to where you’re dragging her over.

Caro lets a small smile appear on her face and she drops into a crouch right as you barrel into her arms. There’s something about you being older now that puts Caro at ease. She remembers when you were just a tiny baby and how scared she was to drop you.

It’s harder to drop you now and Caro’s much more comfortable. Her arms wrap around your little body and you hug her back so tightly that she’s a little shocked at how much strength is in your tiny body.

“Hi, Caro!” You say, panting from how quickly you go to her side.

“Hello, y/n.”

“You played so good!” You tell her,” Just like at Wolfsburg! You score so much! You’re so cool, Caro!” You chatter on and on about Caro’s two earlier goals.

Caro nods along to you and Frido only pulls you away when you start yawning, completely shattered by your long day in the sun.

“Alright, little monster,” She says,” Say goodbye to Caro then we’ll say bye to Ingrid and Mapi. We need to head home.”

You whine but do as you’re told, giving a hug to Caro before running off to do the same with Ingrid and Mapi.

You’re practically asleep by the time Frido straps you into your car seat. You keep yawning and your head lulls to the side. It’s adorable and Frido snaps a quick picture, sending it off to Pernille and Magda, who she knows are eagerly awaiting an update from her after the game.

#woso x reader #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfö #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #the big adventures universe

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sefinaa · 2 months

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❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.❞

What are some things that your fs/lover adore about you?

Subliminal channel | Masterlist

Tips | Paid Readings

Not a tarot card reading, only based on my intuition.

18+ intuitive readings

Authors note,

Pile 2 has one bullet point that is a little 18+. If you’re uncomfortable, skip the second bullet point.

Divider

Pile 1:

🦋 Your eyes and the way you light up at the smallest things. Perhaps when a butterfly flies near you or when you do well on a test, you become very happy.

🦋 The way you cook something. At times it doesn’t come out as you hope, you don’t let it affect you—you keep at it until the next day or the next time you cook something hoping to do better than before and you actually do much better. They absolutely fricken love this about you.

🦋 You don’t compete with anyone but yourself, you don’t have an ego and you focus on improving yourself all the time.

🦋 The small kisses you give them, small gestures like kissing their cheeks or eyes, even eyebrows. Not to tease them, but a small gesture of your appreciation for them.

🦋 (This is a cute one). The way you caress their cheeks when they try to express their feelings but they cannot. In a way you reassure them as their ex lover couldn’t, I’m feeling as if this small gesture is what made them fall in love with you.

🦋 When you bake them a dessert and wait patiently for them to try, and at times you wish you could tell them, “I’m your dessert” and wink at them, but you’re too shy. They can tell and they love that part of you. Your shyness is the cutest thing for them and they would want that instead of you trying to be someone you’re not. (“So don’t change your personality and stop being ashamed of that part of yourself. But if you don’t like that part of yourself, then change, but don’t be harsh on yourself.” From my intuition).

Pile 2:

🌈 Your whole personality give me rainbow vibes, happy sunshine vibes but gloomy and grumpy when raining—so your person loves those mood swing because they feel needed when you want to cuddle or show love to them.

🌈 They like it when you twirl your hair or play with your hair when you’re in the mood, makes them tight and excited.

🌈 They absolutely adore it when you draw them something small, even if you aren’t the best artist, the way you think about drawing them makes their heart do backflips

🌈 They like that you’re a thinker, that you think deeply and a lot; you have so many ideas in that head of yours and you always share it with them. At times you don’t think they’re listening, but they are.

🌈 They love and absolutely adore it when you ask them for a high five, it’s a cute gesture for them and when you first asked them, they were shocked. Like what? I think now it has become a habit for the both of you when you do something you’re proud of because you blush when you get praise so this is another way you for to earn your praise without being a blushing mess.

Pile 3:

🎈 They love that you enjoy horror movies and gore (for some of you for the gore part). So I see them liking this because they used to be a horror lover but they were shame for it so they pushed it away and decided to go with the crowd. You seem to help them open that part of their life they closed.

🎈 This is a cute one, but I hear they like when you smile at them. Even if you assume you don’t have a cute smile and such, they completely disagree. If they were going through a bad time, smile for them and they will be happy for that whole day. “Your smile is contagious.”

🎈 They like that you take care of yourself as a hobby and that you prioritize yourself above others. For them, this is the hottest thing ever and I hear some of you feel slightly insecure about it, you shouldn’t, it’s natural and a good thing:).

🎈 I also see they like that you’re this troupe “I hate everyone but you.” You seem to show a lot of love for them despite not enjoying other people presence and sometimes it melts their heart because you chose them. You could’ve chosen anyone but it was them. It’s a slight ego thing, but at the same time it makes them very happy !!

Pile 4:

🦖 I see them enjoying when you speak about dinosaurs, Star Wars, colossals (I’m guessing something to do with aot), space and technology, the stereotypes of a “nerd”, but anyways they love it and I hear (if you haven’t met them yet) they will tease you about being a nerd but it’s not in a malicious nature

🦖 I see the both of you watching television and cuddling together on your couch with a huge blanket that is draped over the both of you, with popcorn on the coffee table. They love when the both of you spend quality time together, which is your love language or at least one of them. Anyways, they love it when you snuggle with them or put your head on their lap/shoulder, they love taking care of you and it makes them feel loved.

🦖 They like it when you ask them for help even when it’s the smallest things. They don’t think you are someone who’s stupid (some of you feel that way when you ask for help hence here is the reassurance), they love it because their love language is acts of service. They feel needed and wanted, as well as it makes them happy. Actually, I’m getting their whole vibe might Sanji from One piece, if you haven’t seen it, pretty much he is a hopeless romantic who is a chef on a pirate ship. He is always helping around but also ogling at other girls and giving them special treatment. Now, your lover won’t ogle at others, my intuition is aiming at them just giving you special treatment more than others even before you started to date.

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lana-llama-in-pajamas · 1 month

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Milkman (Francis mosses) x fem! Reader

Thick as blood

Sweet as milk

Ah yes, you. The new doorman. The DDD hired you for your attention to detail and ability to examine more than just physical detail but the way people talked, their actions even the movement in their eyes.

Dopples are horrible at those details, some are just straight stupid and don’t try

But today was your first day in the building fresh from training, the building didn’t have a doorman before so you were ready for confrontation and confusion

Your uniforms was meant to look friendly, with a DDD button the the left breast. the DDD issued you with a pistol in case a Dopple did get in.

The block has been notified and given everything they needed to get in. Now it was your job to make sure they were safe

The day went slow no one coming in till lunch, you were not given one but you were allowed to eat whenever suited you

Soon tho a very happy woman came by…she had heterochromia at first you assumed dopple before looking at her papers

Right Nacha Mikaelys . Everything checked out as you studied her taking notes in your head, she smiled seemingly unaware of what was happening “how’s your day so far?” She asked looking through her purse, possibly for her keys “going well, I’m y/n your new doorman” you replied passing back her papers “have a good day ma’am” she nodded taking them back “pleased to meet you y/n see you tomorrow “ Nacha waved and walked out of sight

You got up from your chair to walk around your small office, you fix up your uniform as you hear someone come up to your glass panel. It was a milkman..? you raised your eyebrows at him. He didn’t look quite surprised to see you. He slid his papers into the slot and waited. You grabbed the papers and looked up and down at them. You then looked up at him and studied his features while trying to talk to him. “Hi I’m y/n the new doorman pleased to meet you, Mr. Moses.”

“Mm…pleased to meet you y/n”

Oh god. You blushed! What a schoolgirl

You slid the papers to him quickly looking down “all is in order, good day sir” you almost stuttered before looking back up at his dark tired eyes “good.” He walked off not noticing your sudden change in tone.

Oh god he sounded like a night time soap, deep and soft. you could listen to him read a chapter book and hang on every word, a phone book would sound sexy! And his eyes! Ugh you would kiss them if possible! You let your blush stay as you fell head over heels for a man that spoke 6 words to you (I counted) another person stood before you, before you could even greet them you stopped in your tracks

It wasn’t human. Its face was a drawing taped to it. No mouth but it spoke “allow me in please”

You softly pressed the urgency button as you slid out your gun. You could hear the dopple screech and writhe behind the glass and metal shutter while you called your superiors “I have one” you spoke sternly not wanting to show any fear “on the way” the triple D officer spoke. You stood back pistol in hand breathing slowly to calm down soon though the screeching stopped and the metal shutter lifted revealing a man in a yellow suit “dopple eliminated. Good work” he walked away with 2 others carrying a body bag.

You shivered placing the weapon back in its place you were glad most of those things were dumb but it made it no less horrifying

Your mind raced as you thought about the two things that just happened to you almost simultaneously first having a girl crush on a milkman and now almost getting killed by a stupid Dopple

Your immediate thought, as you sat down and tried to organize to calm your mind was, how does a milkman live in a building with such high earners ? How much does a milkman make ?you pondered looking over the files of residents

After introducing yourself to a couple of other residents, the day ends, and it’s time for your shift to end as well.

One Dopple the rest human honestly the best you could hope for on a first day, the other thing you could look forward to is that because you do work in this building, you can live in the building for way less rent than everybody else, you picked up your items from the desk and made sure everything was clean before you left and lock the door behind you no one was allowed to leave or enter the building after 10 PM unless of course it was an emergency, but they would be escorted by DDD officer at the front of the building

You took the elevator to your apartment “F05” the old landlord room, it used to be boarded up but the DDD had it refurbished for you, still looked a little dingy but ultra cheap rent for a 2 room apartment was worth it

You opened the door but jumped a little hearing another door “oh” you heard the deep voice looking to your left, Francis in a white wife beater and a cardigan. He has a cigarette in his fingers unlit “oh sorry you startled me goodnight Mr.mosses” you tried to excuse yourself quickly but to your surprise he spoke up “I didn’t know you lived here, actually I didn’t know there was a 5th apartment” he finally lit his cigarette taking a long drag (it’s the 50s) you nodded hoping to clear his confusion “ it was boarded up in the early 40s, it’s called a lord suite. a place for the landlord to stay in case of quick repairs or whatever else may happen” he listened rather intently taking the cig out of his mouth, god did you want him to ask you to take a puff just to indicate something “oh…I remember those really fell out of fashion huh?” He asked passing the half done cancer stick. You screamed in your head agreeing with him and taking in the smoke “well enjoy, I need to sleep” he walked back to his apartment almost slamming the door, was he mad? He didn’t indicate anger or distrust, you finished the cigarette and smudged it out on your stove placing the butt on the counter almost contemplating about saving it… you were weirding yourself out a bit but came back to.

You did as all necessary and got ready for bed

You dreamt of Francis sitting on the roof with you holding you close both of you in your uniforms as you kissed him deep and hungry begging for more in your movements you felt him move down to bite softly at your ne- TRRRIING TRRING

your alarm clock yelled at you a few more times before you could slam your hand down on it groaning and streaching “god I am down bad”

End pt 1

I know but the game is set in like 1955 America but it gives me such Soviet vibes

#milkman #milkman x reader #tnmn #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #Spotify #SoundCloud

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platinumshawnn · 4 months

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IT’S A BAD DAY | jburrow

A/N: lol i just tried writing a blurb to ease back into writing and had no ideas, someone help or send requests or ideas

Warnings: none — just fluff involving baby daddy joe being disappointed following his injury in November

word count: 2.2k

“IT’S A TERRIBLE DAY FOR BENGALS FANS AS ZAC TAYLOR ANNOUNCED TONIGHT THAT JOE BURROW WILL BE OUT FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE SEASON,” The sports anchor stated over the television in the living room, his tone exaggerated and more over the top than the average person — scripted and unnatural as the words rolled off his tongue. The lock on the door beeped as it released from its latch, allowing Joe to step into the warmth of their shared home with a sigh, head down as he dragged his feet against the rug in the entranceway to wipe any moisture from the soles of his shoes. He used his elbow to push the door closed behind him as he then turned to lock it, eyes being drawn to the tv as the anchorman continued his report, “The head coach confirmed during a press briefing tonight that following an MRI, Burrow was confirmed to have torn a ligament in his right wrist during tonight’s game against the Baltimore Ravens.”

Joe turned his head, a blank look scanning the foyer around him as he listened for some sort of greeting from within the house; his eyes attracted to the pictures that were hung up on the walls as he stepped further into the house. His gaze was particularly drawn to a picture of his girlfriend and him their first Christmas together, blinking a couple of times.

“Hello?” He finally called out. He was met with silence as Joe turned on his heel to look further into the living room, scanning before his gaze stopped on the couch.

He could see the top of her head over the end of the couch from his position in the doorway as he set his duffle bag down by his feet, where from his spot he knew she was asleep; her blue throw blanket pulled over her and up to her chin, unfazed by the tv that had been left on while she slept — he could only assume she had nodded off during the game, maybe even some time during the recaps after their loss that night. The anchorman’s voice was filled with enthusiasm as he broke down some game plays, though the sound and his words were a smear of sounds that he couldn’t comprehend in that moment; he was tired of hearing about the game today, tired of hearing how screwed the team was for the season and his injury — his wrist throbbed at the thought of Zac’s earlier words to him.

“You’re going to bounce back from this one,” he said as the physician carefully turned his wrist, gloved hands palpating and careful as they danced around his wrist; pinching his fingertips, occasionally speaking up to ask Joe where the pain came from, describe it, can you feel when I squeeze your hand? Any numbness or tingling?

“You always bounce back, Joe, don’t worry.”

The side of his left hand was still sore from slamming into the wall in the change room when he returned from the medic office while Zac had stepped out to speak to the physician more, frustrated that he had thrown away another season. That kind of deep, throbbing pain that radiated down his wrist and into his forearm, sore and stiff from clenching his fist so tight his knuckles had turned white. He was drained. His cheeks were flushed with a mottled pink appearance, nose blushed a deep red from the cold as he used his left hand to pull off his hat and clenched it — she was asleep. His head tilted, blue eyes straining in the dark to make out her figure, curled up on the couch even with the dim light from the tv and the table side lamp that he didn’t even want — they got it because she adored the hideous thing when she found it at a thrift shop with its multi coloured, red, blue, white and yellow base that was painted with misshapen flowers; it wasn’t bright but it did the job.

Joe disregarded kicking off his shoes as he quietly walked into the living room, the quiet hum of the reporter still in the background as he circled the couch, eyes on her as he moved like a man on a mission, never leaving her as he stood back a few feet. She remained still and quiet, unaware of his presence as her eyes fluttered in her slumber as her shoulder rose and fell with slow, deep breaths; curled up on her side and hugging the decorative pillow underneath her. The tension in his features was released as he fully stopped in front of her, his jaw unclenching for the first time in hours and eyes softening with admiration as he paused, a mental image being captured of this moment only then before he quietly shuffled forward to crouch at the foot of the couch, his hand pressing into the cushion by her head and turning his head right to align with hers. His right hand, clad in a thick cast, cradled in his lap as he took a moment just to relish in the peace of the moment before he would have to wake her and urge her to come to bed — he couldn’t leave her there, as much as he hated to wake her. His left hand rose to gently brush over her hair, her mouth pinching into a pucker in her sleep as she seemed to respond to the simple touch and furrowing her eyebrows as her disoriented gaze shifted to scan her surroundings for a moment; landing beyond him before they landed on his face, yawning.

“Hi.” He quietly greeted, the hand over her hair brushing back strands from her cheek as she rolled on her back and turned her head to look up at him as she tugged the blanket away from being tangled around her feet.

She yawned once more, “You’re back already.” She stated.

Joe nodded, watching as she slowly moved to sit up, his hand reaching out to support the transition by her shoulder. The blanket fell from her chest to stop at her waist, snug around the bump that had increasingly grown over the past few months, prominent even in the baggiest sweaters these days despite her best efforts; there was no hiding their boy these days. His hand dropped from her shoulder to her belly, fingers splayed out over the firm bump, his eyes following the movement, “Hi to you too.” He quietly added, leaning over the couch to press a kiss to her belly, the fabric of her t-shirt rough under his lips as he withdrew to sit back on the balls of his feet.

Her left hand came to rest over his at her belly, sitting upright and shifting to lean back against the arm rest as she blinked away the sleep from her eyes, her eyes shifting to the tv. A silence passed between them as she seemed to register what had just conspired on tv a few hours prior, bearing witness to the end of his season as she sat up straighter, anxiously awaiting some kind of news; her eyes turned to look back to him. His head turned, shoulders moving with the turn as well as he glanced back at the tv then turned away as he caught the vague mention of his name, gaze dropping to the carpet beneath him.

“What did they say?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the frustration creep back up his chest and up the back of his throat as he inhaled, sucking in a deep breath that he held for a few seconds, “Torn ligament.” He replied.

She nodded as her hand moved from overtop his to reach out and grab his shoulder to pull him forward so he rolled onto his knees; the cradled hand awkwardly planting on the edge of the couch as his head fell forward and pressed his forehead to her stomach, her hand immediately raking through his hair, “We can work with that.” She confidently replied he sat in silence, “You should just need a surgery— they can go in and repair it, rehab, and you should bounce back.” She added, her eyes focused on the back of his head as his shoulders rose and fell with a sigh.

“Another surgery.” He replied, his voice muffled as he spoke in a tone that was laced with defeat; the tension in his shoulders evident as her fingers worked to fix the hair atop of his head. The blonde locks were moved into a smoothed over fashion, as it had previously been done by gel before the game, stood in front of the mirror for all of twenty seconds before he had blown her a kiss goodbye over Facetime and left, optimism and determination in his step.

He lifted his eyes, “Another surgery.” He echoed, her eyes searching his face.

He watched as her mouth pressed into a fine line, the faintest trace of a frown on the corners of her mouth as her gaze took in the sight of him before her — the lines that had settled themselves between his brows, surrounding his mouth and the circles underneath his eyes that held a bluish hue to them, the result of exhaustion.

“You’ll play again, though.” She pointed out, watching as he crumpled against the couch again, his shoulders slumping forward with a slight shudder. “You will, Joe.”

“I know.” He grumbled, his voice small like a child.

“This could be good for you— you could use the rest,” She tried to reason with her boyfriend who was quiet apart from a sniffle in response. “You can spend more time at home with me and the baby, rest and you will be back before you know it.”

Her gaze drifted towards the ceiling, absentmindedly playing with his hair as he sat quietly, soaking in her words; feeling as her belly rose and fell underneath his head with each steady, deep breath she took. That damn reporter was still talking. “Is that all, Doc?” He asked, his voice still quiet but trying to make the effort to follow her attempts to guide him back to the bright side of things — the optimist. He could feel the shake of her body as she laughed underneath him.

“Yeah, I think so.” She replied, taking a deep breath. “Rest and some good quality time with your beautiful, intelligent girlfriend and your baby boy.” She added.

Joe hummed, eyebrows furrowing as he took a deep breath that mirrored hers before sighing it out and raising his head to look at her again. She turned to look at him as though she had sensed his eyes on her, a small smile on her face, “I just hate the recovery process of these things.” He admitted, earning a nod in turn.

“I know.” She said, her tone almost holding a hint of amusement as if to echo his earlier response to her attempts to reason with him. A tired smile appeared on his face, letting out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff as he sniffled and used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe his nose.

“We should get you to bed.”

Her gaze followed him as he moved to stand and held out his hands to her — an instinctive offer of assistance as he stood in front of her, watching as she struggled with a grunt to sit back up and swing her legs off the couch, bracing her feet against the hardwood floor beneath them. Her eyes shifted to glance at the cast, watching as he reluctantly dropped the right hand, before looking up and reaching out for his left to grip as he aided in pulling her with ease to her feet — and without pause, her arms extending up to wrap around his shoulders as she exhaled a deep breath once she was up, a sound that resembled a content sigh.

“You know we love you regardless, right?” She asked, half-lidded eyes tiredly scanning his features with a look of love and affection in her eyes as his arms encircled her waist and rested his hands at her hips; the cast awkwardly inhibiting the action — he towered over her, his shoulders slouched to accommodate the height difference between them. “James and I love you regardless of how broken you are, you’re amazing — with or without football.” She softly said.

His left hand rubbed up and down her side, having to swallow down the emotion that crept up his throat once again as she spoke, his eyes squeezing shut as they stung with oncoming tears, “Yeah.” He whispered, nodding.

“You will overcome this, you always do.” She said, leaning up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. There was a certainty in her tone that he admired — she never seemed to second guess herself and he adored that confidence, his eyes opening and blinking rapidly a couple of times before he nodded. She awkwardly wobbled to reach behind him and gather the remote, turning off the tv behind him and setting the remote back down on the couch with a toss. Her arm linked with his while her other hand rested against her hip, inhaling and rolling her shoulders, “Come, you look like you need some sleep.” She encouraged, her eyes down on her feet as she began to lead the pair towards the stairs to the second floor; his gaze on her with a look of adoration, grateful for the grace she possessed even when he lacked it.

#joeburrow #joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow gifs

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 11 months

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Time of the month

I mean this in no slander way, but the clones may know about sex and etc, but they definitely are dumb ass hell to a period lmfao. They are clones after not really like the other demons too lmfao

Warnings: fem!reader, fluff & smut, periods, oral (reader receiving), hunger impulses, humor

Aizetsu

Aizetsu could tell someone wasn't right with you for the past few days. He explained that a demon is able to sense the hormone changes in a human, but he couldn't really make out what it is. When Aizetsu smelled blood from you, he almost panicked. "Y/n, where are you hurt?" He asked, holding your face looking around your neck and chest.

You giggled. "I'm not hurt. Why are you assuming that?" You asked "I smell blood from you" Aizetsu says almost crying and looking around your body "don't hide your pain from me it makes me sad when you do" Aizetsu kept checking until he squats down to your lower half and smelled where the blood was coming from.

You took a step back a bit nervously. "Aizetsu... I'm just on my period. Do you not know what that means?" You asked, and he just shook his head, no in response. From that day, you had to explain to Aizetsu what a period is and how it's very common for women to have one and anyone with a uterus, and he was able to understand.

You couldn't stop Aizetsu hunger when your period came. "Y/n, I'm so hungry. Please let me eat, I need to. I can't resist it anymore. " Aizetsu begs you every time, drool falling from his chin from his hunger. Aizetsu goes down on you, having his tongue lap up at the blood flowing out of you having his fill. Most of the time, Aizetsu does it to satisfy his hunger but will get carried away and end up over stimulating you.

"A-Aizetsu you said you were done" you mewl and your back arches when you feel him suck on your clit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he moans on your pussy "forgive me" he said between licks not stopping until he's tasting your cum mixed with your blood.

Aizetsu takes notice that when you're on your period, you get more emotional and clingy to him. "Y/n, I have to go see "that man." I promise I'll come back," he said, but you just held his hand tighter. "Don't leave Aizetsu. I'll miss you, " you said and began crying, but that only made Aizetsu cry and even harder at that. "Your poor thing. You can't live with out my for more than a second, can you? " he said.

"What the fuck!? I just don't want my boyfriend leaving me" you sob "so you can live without me!?" Aizetsu asked only making him sob harder having you both because an emotional mess.

Sekido

The first time Sekido realized what a period was after you explained it to him, he literally called it stupid. He couldn't understand how the uterus could cause a person so much pain all because they aren't pregnant each month. "If it's because you're not pregnant, why don't I just get you pregnant, you fool?" He said, being very serious, and you tried not to laugh since it wouldn't really change anything.

Sekido would get mad when your period could affect your whole body. "What do you mean I can't lay my head on your chest!? You said it was just your stomach hurting you," Sekido said, sounding confused but somehow angry as well.

"Sekido, when I get my period, a lot of things happen to my body, including my boobs... they are really tender and sore right now, " you explained, but that only angered Sekido even more. "Please don't be mad," you say with tears instantly coming out of your eyes. "Why are you crying!?" He raised his voice. "Don't yell at me either!" You sob in your hands, having Sekido stand there dumb founded and feeling somewhat bad for making you cry.

Sekido had to take many months to understand you on your period and when not to say certain things. Even so, he couldn't hide his hunger when you're around on your period. "Stop squirming. The more you do, the less blood that comes out and I'm fucking hungry" he said, holding your legs open but reminds himself you are in pain and sure to have his hand on your stomach, rubbing it and giving your clit attention with his tounge to give you pleasure.

Sekido doesn't get carried away with getting his fill but there will be those days where he'll want to fuck you on your period and that's the softest sex you'll ever get from him.

Karaku

"A period? Do I get one? My dick does have a hole, so maybe i can have one..." He'll ask seriously after you explained to him why you bleed every month from your vagina. Karaku couldn't believe this was something you could do all because you weren't pregnant, and surprisingly, he made sure to take a mental note of how he should help you when this time comes around.

Karaku did realize how needy you'd get for him on your period. He'd use this opportunity to get his fill, lapping up the blood from your pussy but take his sweet time but making sure to pleasure you in the process, moaning from how good you tasted both for his hunger and your arousal.

"You're still in pain, aren't you?" Karaku rubs your stomach and gives it soft kisses. "Don't worry. I'll make the pain go away," he smirks. Karaku is able to go up to many rounds with you, that's just the stamina of a demon but he has to realize on a normal day you can only do so many but on months like this? Oh he loves how you can take his cock for more then an hour.

Karaku notices how you're much more needy for words of affirmation during this month. "y/n, you're beautiful. I love you. " he'll hold your face, squish your cheeks together, and even pet your head. "Are you still in pain?" he'll say, rubbing your back and sometimes giving you butt rubs as you lay on his chest. "It'll end soon. You'll be fine"

Urogi

"Wow! Are these pads? Look how easily they break!" He said, ripping up at least 3 of your pads with his sharp talons. You screamed at him so loud that day, saying you need them to the point where Urogi doesn't dare mess with them again.

Urogi makes fun of you for being in your period. He'll often compare you to Sekido with how angry you get. "Am I bothering you? Why aren't you talking to me? Hello, hello hello" Urogi said, knowing he's being annoying and even using his talon to poke you in a painful way to annoying you "fuck off! Stop that you annoying bird!" You yell "ok ms.sekido, " Urogi said.

You'd never have a problem with Urogi going down on you when it's that month for you since it was normal for a demon to have hunger impulses when they smell blood from a human but you never wanted to give Urogi the satisfaction of how good his tounge felt.

You can tell when Urogi has had his fill but will want to keep playing with you. You'll turn your head with a pout, not looking at his big yellow eyes staring at you. "What? Don't wanna look at me? Is it because I'm a mess with your blood" he mocks you and presses his tounge flat on your clit.

"So much more sensitive then usual" Urogi grabs your thighs spreading them open keeps licking at your clit and feel your legs trembling in his grip. "Oh? Does it feel good? Your legs are shaking, " he said "C'mon tell me how good it feels, " he stops, looking up at you, waiting for an answer

"Fuck... it feels good, keep going" you grab his hair pushing his head closer to your thobbing clit. "Don't worry, I'll have you cumming on my tounge in no time~"

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