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muiitoloko · 12 days

Note

Okay. Hear me out: Snape and the Hogwarts professor/wife. Actually I don't even care *which* Alan character you do, but picture this:

Y/N has had a busy time lately and has been flustered. Their birthday is coming up and they'd love nothing more than to get away from the hullabaloo and relax.

*He* in all his glorious self decides to pitch a tent in the woods with fairy lights and a campfire and everything, at the edge of the woods, and surprises Y/N by taking them on long car ride into the middle of nowhere and they camp out under the stars and maybe get down and busy and dirty, IYKYK (and *I* know you know) in the field beneath the stars.

Please and thank you and have fun :)

Title: Gunslinger’s Love

Summary: On a secluded night in the Australian bush, Elliott Marston surprises his wife with a passionate anniversary celebration. Their love story unfolds amidst the wild beauty of the outback.

Pairing: Elliott Marston × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: Oh, I love this idea! Pitching a tent in the woods, fairy lights, campfires, long car rides, and getting down and busy under the stars—sounds like a dream! 😏 I can already picture it all!

And to keep things interesting, I’ve decided to write it with Elliott! There’s just so many Snape fanfics out there, I thought I'd give some love to a character who doesn’t get enough of the spotlight. Elliott deserves to get in on this magic too, don’t you think? 😉

Also read on Ao3

Elliott urged the horses to move faster, the creak of the wagon’s wheels adding to the quiet tension of the night. The stars glittered above like tiny diamonds scattered across a velvet sky, but all you could focus on was your growing curiosity—and mild annoyance. You clung to Elliott’s waist, your arms wrapped around him as the cool night air nipped at your skin.

“Elliott,” you called out over the sound of the horses’ hooves. “Where on earth are you taking me at such a late hour?”

Elliott adjusted the brim of his hat, his signature Zappa mustache twitching with amusement as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “I told you, darling,” he said in that deep, smooth baritone you loved so much, “it’s a surprise.”

You huffed, not entirely convinced. “A surprise in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night? And we’re camping? What if there’s a wolf or—heaven forbid—a snake? I don’t fancy being turned into a midnight snack for some wild animal, Elliott.”

Elliott rolled his eyes with an exasperated smile, patting the rifle strapped to his side. “Woman, I’m the best gunslinger in all of Australia. Do you really think I’d let anything happen to you while I’m around?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, though there was a hint of a smile playing on your lips. “You might be the best gunslinger, but you’re not invincible. And this still doesn’t explain why we’re camping! There are perfectly good beds at home, you know.”

Elliott chuckled, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “You’ll see soon enough, my love. Just sit back and trust me, hmm?”

You gave a playful pout, leaning closer to his ear. “I’m not convinced, but I’ll go along with your little adventure. If I hear so much as a howl, though, you’ll be the one getting a taste of this wagon’s hard bench all night.”

Elliott threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing across the empty plains. “That’s a fair threat,” he teased, “but I think you’ll change your tune once we get there.”

After what felt like an eternity of bumping along the uneven trail, the wagon finally slowed, and Elliott pulled the horses to a stop. You squinted into the darkness, trying to make out your surroundings, but all you saw were the tall, shadowy outlines of trees.

“Where are we?” you asked, your voice softer now, tinged with curiosity.

Elliott jumped down from the wagon and turned to offer you his hand. “Come on,” he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You hesitated for a moment, still not entirely sure about this whole camping idea, but you trusted Elliott. Taking his hand, you let him help you down, and together, you walked into the trees.

As you stepped deeper into the forest, the darkness began to give way to a soft, warm glow. Your eyes widened in surprise as you spotted several oil lamps hung from tree branches, their flickering light casting a romantic golden hue over the clearing. A soft blanket had been spread out on the grass, surrounded by cushions, and there were wildflowers tucked into every available crevice.

“Elliott…” you breathed, utterly taken aback by the sight before you.

Elliott stood behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Happy anniversary, my darling,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth. “I thought we’d celebrate under the stars this year.”

You turned in his arms, gazing up at him with a mixture of awe and affection. “You did all this for me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Elliott’s hazel eyes sparkled in the soft light. “Of course,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I know it’s not the most conventional way to celebrate, but I wanted something special. Something that reminds us of how simple and beautiful things can be when it’s just the two of us.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him. “You hopeless romantic,” you teased, though your voice was full of affection. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Elliott raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Just because I’m a ruthless gunslinger doesn’t mean I can’t be romantic,” he said, his voice dripping with charm.

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “I suppose I shouldn’t complain, then. It’s…perfect, Elliott. Really.”

He kissed the top of your head before stepping back, guiding you toward the blanket. “I knew you’d come around,” he said, his voice teasing but filled with tenderness.

You then released Elliott from your embrace and approached the romantic scene he had so thoughtfully set up for you. As your eyes scanned the soft blanket, the cushions, and the wildflowers tucked into the crevices of the trees, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of affection for your husband. He wasn’t one for grand displays of emotion, but this…this was different. It felt like a piece of his heart laid bare just for you.

Turning your gaze to Elliott, you saw him pulling the tent out of the wagon, along with the basket of food you had prepared earlier. He made quite the picture—his baritone voice humming quietly as he worked, his Zappa mustache twitching with concentration, his hooked nose casting a shadow over his handsome face in the flickering lamplight. You smiled to yourself as you moved to help him set up the tent.

As soon as Elliott saw you approaching, he shook his head in mock protest. “Now hold on there, darlin’,” he drawled, his Australian accent thicker than usual. “I told you to relax. This is meant to be your night. No need for you to lift a finger.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow as you stood your ground. “Elliott Marston, I’ve been running this household like a well-oiled machine for years. Don’t think for a second I’m gonna sit back while you do all the work. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

Elliott chuckled softly, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. “Stubborn as a mule, you are,” he said with a smirk, but his voice carried a deep warmth. “Fine, if it makes you happy, we’ll set this bloody tent up together.”

As the two of you worked side by side, you couldn’t help but feel a little mischievous. The close proximity, the quiet rustle of the forest, and the romantic glow of the lamps brought a playful energy to the air. You caught Elliott sneaking glances at you more than once, and each time he did, your heart fluttered a little faster.

After a few minutes of quiet teamwork, you broke the silence with a teasing tone. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know. Our wedding anniversary’s still a good two weeks away.”

Elliott paused, his hands gripping the edge of the tent as he turned to look at you, his expression softening. “I know,” he said quietly, his baritone voice losing some of its gruffness. “But I’ve seen how stressed you’ve been, with all the chores and runnin’ the house. You’re always on your feet, always lookin’ after everyone but yourself. I figured, why wait two weeks to celebrate? I thought it’d do us both good to have a bit of time away from all the chaos.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help the affectionate smile that spread across your face. “You big softie,” you teased gently, moving closer to him. “I didn’t know you were paying such close attention.”

Elliott smirked, reaching out to pull you into his arms. “I always pay attention, darlin’. I may not be the most romantic bloke, but I notice things. Like how your shoulders tense up when you’ve been workin’ too hard, or how you bite your lip when you’re thinkin’ about a million things at once.”

You leaned into his chest, resting your head against his broad shoulder as his arms tightened around you. “I appreciate it,” you whispered, your voice soft with emotion. “More than you know.”

Elliott’s fingers trailed down your back, his touch firm but gentle. “I reckon I’ve got a good way to help you relax, love,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “Why don’t you lie down on that blanket, and let me show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me?”

You felt a shiver of anticipation run through you at the way his voice dropped, that familiar commanding tone slipping into his words. “Elliott,” you breathed, your cheeks flushing as you looked up at him. “You always know how to push my buttons, don’t you?”

He chuckled darkly, his mustache twitching as a wicked smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “That’s ‘cause I know exactly what you need,” he replied, his eyes darkening with lust. “And I’m more than happy to give it to you.”

You moved toward the blanket, feeling the warm glow of the lamps flicker around you as you settled onto the soft fabric. The air was cool but not uncomfortably so, the distant sounds of the wilderness adding to the intimate atmosphere that Elliott had so carefully prepared. With a contented sigh, you reached for the basket of food you had prepared earlier in the day, the smell of roasted meats and fresh bread mixing with the earthy scent of the forest. But before you began arranging the meal, you set the basket aside, knowing Elliott would want to be part of this shared moment.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him finishing with the tent, his strong hands moving deftly as he secured the last of the pegs in place. Once done, he wiped his hands on his trousers, straightened up, and walked toward you with that signature swagger of his, his Zappa mustache twitching with satisfaction. The sight of him, illuminated by the soft light of the oil lamps, made your heart race. He looked rugged, powerful, and undeniably handsome, the kind of man who could command a room—or a wilderness—with nothing more than a glance.

Elliott knelt beside you, taking off his wide-brimmed hat and placing it carefully to the side. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and something more primal that made your breath catch. Without a word, he helped you arrange the food on the blanket, his movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring the simple act of being close to you. His fingers brushed yours now and then, sending little sparks of electricity through your skin.

As the food was spread out, Elliott unbuckled the holster strapped across his chest and carefully laid his pistols and rifle to the side, close enough to reach in case of trouble but far enough to let him relax. The soft clinking of metal was the only sound breaking the silence between you, but the tension was palpable, the air thick with anticipation.

Elliott stretched out beside you, his hazel eyes glimmering in the lamplight as he looked up at the stars scattered across the inky sky. “Look at that,” he murmured, his deep, baritone voice vibrating through the quiet. “Not a damn cloud in sight. Couldn’t have asked for a better night, eh?”

You smiled, leaning back on your hands as you gazed up at the stars too. “No,” you agreed softly, “it’s perfect.”

But your attention wasn’t on the stars for long. You turned your gaze back to Elliott, watching the way the firelight danced across his rugged features, making him look even more handsome. The roughness of his face, the hooked nose, the strong jawline, and that damn mustache—everything about him exuded strength, but tonight, there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you that made your heart flutter.

“You’re starin’, darlin’,” Elliott drawled with a smirk, his voice laced with amusement. “What’s on your mind?”

You shifted, moving closer to him until you were almost touching. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. “You went to all this trouble just for me.”

Elliott chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your body tingle. “Ain’t no trouble,” he murmured, reaching out to trail a finger down your arm. “Nothin’s too much for my girl.”

The way he said it—possessive, protective—sent a shiver of excitement through you. His touch, though light, felt like a promise of something more.

As the night deepened and the stars above burned with a cold, distant light, Elliott rose to gather some nearby branches. His movements were purposeful, each step deliberate as he searched for the driest wood to build a fire. You watched him from your place on the blanket, admiring the way his broad shoulders moved under the fabric of his shirt, the light from the oil lamps casting his features in sharp relief. There was a primal satisfaction in seeing him work, in knowing that this strong, capable man was yours.

With the firewood gathered, Elliott crouched near one of the lamps, carefully lighting a small bundle of kindling before transferring the flame to the pile of branches. Within moments, the fire crackled to life, its warm glow chasing away the night’s chill. Elliott sat back on his heels for a moment, watching the flames dance, before returning to your side.

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the Australian bush your only companions. Elliott stretched out beside you on the blanket, his body close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes, now softened by the firelight, met yours, and he gave you that familiar, crooked smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

As the fire crackled warmly in front of you, Elliott reached over and plucked a piece of roasted meat from the basket, holding it up to your lips with a smirk. “Open up, love,” he said in that deep, commanding baritone, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You playfully rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you obliged, taking the tender morsel from his fingers. The taste was rich, smoky, and perfectly seasoned—the result of hours spent preparing the meal earlier in the day. Elliott’s gaze lingered on you as you chewed, the firelight casting a golden glow on his rugged features.

“Mmm, you sure know how to spoil a girl,” you teased after swallowing, your voice light but full of affection.

“Only the best for you,” he replied, his tone warm but with that familiar edge of possessiveness that always sent a shiver down your spine. He reached for another piece of meat, and this time, you leaned forward and took it directly from his fingers with a slow, deliberate motion, your eyes never leaving his.

Elliott’s smirk deepened, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Cheeky little thing,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle brush of his lips against yours, but it quickly deepened as you responded, your hand coming up to cup the back of his neck.

The taste of the roasted meat still lingered on your tongue, mingling with the warmth of his mouth as the kiss grew more urgent. Elliott’s hand slid up your back, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat of his body seeping through your clothes. The blanket beneath you was soft, the fire warm, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you—the way his fingers tangled in your hair, the way his lips moved against yours with a hunger that sent your heart racing.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. “You’re playing with fire, Mr. Marston,” you whispered, your voice shaky with desire.

“Darlin’,” he replied, his voice low and rough, “I’m more than happy to get burned if it means I get to taste you again.” His words sent a wave of heat coursing through you, and you couldn’t help but shiver in response.

Elliott’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched your reaction, and he didn’t waste any time closing the distance between you once more. This time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t soft or gentle—it was fierce, hungry, as if he was trying to devour you whole. His hands roamed your body with a roughness that left you gasping, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you onto his lap.

You straddled him, your skirts bunching up around your thighs as you ground against him, desperate for more of that delicious friction. Elliott groaned into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he pressed you even closer, his arousal hard and insistent beneath you.

“Christ, you feel so good,” he muttered against your lips, his accent thick and dripping with desire. “Been thinkin’ about this all bloody day.”

You moaned softly in response, your hands fisting in his shirt as you rocked against him, seeking relief from the growing ache between your legs. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath. “Please…”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hazel eyes burning with intensity. “Please what, love?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with an unmistakable edge of command. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks flushing with both desire and embarrassment. Elliott always knew how to push your buttons, how to make you beg for what you wanted. It was maddening, but it also made the eventual release that much sweeter.

“Please… touch me,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with need.

Elliott’s eyes darkened further, and he let out a low growl of approval. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips bruising against yours as his hands moved to the laces of your bodice. With practiced ease, he began to undo them, his fingers working quickly as he stripped you of your clothes.

The cool night air kissed your skin as your bodice fell open, and Elliott wasted no time in slipping his hands beneath the fabric to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching as he teased you, his touch both rough and gentle at the same time.

“Look at you,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a low rumble that sent a wave of arousal straight to your core. “So bloody beautiful.”

His words, coupled with the feel of his hands on your skin, sent you spiraling further into desire. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you ground against him, desperate for more. “Elliott… please,” you begged, your voice shaky and full of need.

He let out a dark chuckle, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Patience, love,” he said, his voice rough with lust. “I want to take my time with you.”

But you were beyond patience, your body aching for his touch, for the release that only he could give you. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice breaking. “I need you.”

The raw need in your voice seemed to break through his restraint, and with a low growl, he flipped you onto your back, his body covering yours as he kissed you fiercely. His hands were everywhere—on your breasts, your hips, between your legs—stoking the fire that burned inside you until you were trembling with need.

Your body trembled beneath Elliott’s touch, every nerve ending ignited by the rough, deliberate way his hands roamed over your skin. He was taking his time, savoring every reaction, every shiver, and moan that escaped your lips. You knew this game well—he loved to tease, to draw out your pleasure until you were begging him for release. And as much as you loved his slow, torturous build-up, tonight you wanted something different. Tonight, you craved something raw, something that would satisfy the urgent need burning within you.

As Elliott’s lips moved to the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands teasingly tracing the curves of your body, you made a decision. You weren’t going to let him take things at his own pace—not this time. You wanted him, and you wanted him now.

Before Elliott could continue his slow, deliberate exploration of your body, you reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him up to meet your gaze. His hazel eyes, darkened with lust, flickered with surprise at your sudden assertiveness, but you didn’t give him a chance to question it.

“Elliott,” you murmured, your voice low and husky with desire, “I need you to fuck me… but before that, I want to taste you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with intent. Elliott’s eyes widened slightly, his nostrils flaring as he took in your request. His Zappa mustache twitched with a smirk, his baritone voice rough as he replied, “You cheeky little minx. You know how to push my buttons, don’t ya?”

You smirked up at him, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a teasing kiss. “I know what I want,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “And right now, I want your cock in my mouth.”

Elliott groaned, the sound low and guttural as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes blazing with a mix of surprise and desire. “You’re a bloody temptress,” he growled, his Australian accent thickening with the intensity of the moment. “But who am I to deny my girl what she wants?”

With that, he shifted, moving to sit back on his heels as he undid the buttons of his trousers with a deliberate slowness that made your heart race. You watched, your breath coming in short, eager bursts as he freed himself from the confines of his clothes, his hard cock standing proudly before you, the sight of it making your mouth water with anticipation.

Elliott’s eyes never left yours as he leaned back, bracing himself on one arm while the other hand guided his cock towards your lips. “Go on, love,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “Show me what that pretty mouth can do.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Leaning forward, you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. You licked your lips, your eyes locked on his as you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head as you sucked gently, savoring the taste of him.

Elliott let out a low, satisfied groan, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he guided you, his grip firm but not forceful. “That’s it, love,” he muttered, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just like that… bloody perfect.”

You moaned softly around his cock, the vibrations sending a shiver of pleasure through both of you as you took him deeper, your lips stretching around his thick length. You could feel the muscles in his thighs tensing beneath your hands, the way his breath hitched every time your tongue flicked over a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Elliott growled, his accent rough and raw as he watched you, his hazel eyes dark with lust. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up.”

But that was exactly what you wanted. You hollowed your cheeks, increasing the suction as you took him deeper, your hand stroking the base of his cock in time with the movements of your mouth. The taste of him, the feel of him filling your mouth, sent a wave of arousal straight to your core, and you moaned again, the sound vibrating through him and driving him wild.

Elliott’s grip on your hair tightened, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he fought to maintain control. “Christ, you’re good at this,” he muttered, his voice a low growl. “But I’m not done with you yet, love. I wanna see you take every inch of me, feel you clench around my cock while I fuck you senseless.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, and you knew that as much as you wanted to bring him to the edge with your mouth, you wanted even more to feel him inside you, to have him bury himself deep within you as he lost control. With one final, deliberate swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock, you pulled back, releasing him with a wet, needy gasp.

Elliott’s eyes blazed with a mix of frustration and lust as he watched you, his chest heaving with the effort to control himself. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’,” he growled, his voice thick with need. “But you’re gonna get exactly what you’re askin’ for.”

Before you could respond, Elliott was on you, his hands rough and demanding as he pushed you back onto the blanket, his body covering yours with a fierce intensity that took your breath away. He didn’t waste any time, his hands pushing up your skirts as he settled between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against your entrance with a delicious, teasing pressure.

You gasped, your back arching as you felt the heat of him against you, your body trembling with anticipation. “Elliott,” you whimpered, your voice shaky with need. “Please… don’t tease me… I need you inside me.”

Elliott’s eyes darkened further, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control. “You want it, love?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “You’re gonna take every inch of me, and you’re gonna love it.”

With that, he thrust into you, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful, unrelenting motion that left you gasping for breath. The sensation of him filling you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, your body trembling with the intensity of it.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Elliott groaned, his voice rough and raw as he began to move, his hips driving into you with a fierce, demanding rhythm. “So tight… so bloody perfect.”

You moaned, your hands clawing at his back as you clung to him, your body arching up to meet his every thrust. The intensity of his movements, the way he filled you so completely, drove you wild with desire, your mind consumed by the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Elliott,” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop… please… don’t stop…”

But Elliott had no intention of stopping. His thrusts only grew harder, deeper, each one driving you closer to the edge as he took you with a rough, primal intensity that left you breathless. The sound of your bodies coming together, the heat of the fire, the feel of his cock stretching you with every thrust—it was all too much, too perfect, and you could feel yourself spiraling towards release.

“You’re mine, love,” Elliott growled, his voice thick with command as he drove into you, his hips slamming against yours with bruising force. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your voice breaking with pleasure as your body trembled beneath him. “I’m yours, Elliott… only yours…”

Elliott’s growl of satisfaction sent a shiver down your spine as he pounded into you with renewed vigor, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your nails dug into his back, your breath coming in short, desperate bursts as you clung to him, your body begging for release.

But Elliott’s movements became more deliberate, his rough urgency giving way to a slower, more sensual rhythm. He leaned down, his warm breath brushing against your skin as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue circling the sensitive bud made you gasp, your back arching as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

His teeth grazed your nipple lightly before sucking it deeper into his mouth, sending a shiver of arousal straight to your core. His hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart race. You felt every inch of him inside you, each slow, deliberate thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His balls gently slapped against you with each movement, a rhythmic reminder of the intimate connection you shared in this secluded, star-lit forest.

The world around you faded into the background—the soft rustle of leaves, the distant call of a night bird, the crackle of the fire. None of it mattered. The only thing that existed was Elliott—his body pressed against yours, his cock filling you so completely, his mouth worshiping your breasts with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

Elliott’s lips moved from one breast to the other, his tongue teasing and flicking against your other nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking gently. His mustache tickled your skin, adding to the overwhelming sensations that had you trembling beneath him. The pace of his thrusts slowed even further, each one deep and unhurried, as if he was savoring the feeling of being inside you, of making love to you under the stars.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, your fingers grazing the warm, taut skin of his back as you traced the muscles there. The contrast between the rough fabric of his shirt and the smoothness of his skin was intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough of the feel of him, the way his body responded to your touch.

“Bloody hell, love,” Elliott murmured against your skin, his baritone voice thick with emotion as he pressed a kiss to the valley between your breasts. “You feel so damn good… so warm and soft."

You moaned softly in response, your hands roaming over his back, his shoulders, the curve of his spine as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. “Elliott,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “Don’t stop… please…”

He lifted his head, his hazel eyes locking onto yours as he slowed his thrusts even more, each movement measured, deliberate. “I’m not going anywhere, love,” he growled softly, his voice full of promise. “I’m right here… and I’m gonna make sure you feel every bit of me.”

The way he spoke, the raw desire in his voice, made your heart flutter. You could feel the depth of his love, his need to connect with you on the most intimate level. And as he continued to move inside you, his thrusts slow and deep, the sensation of his cock filling you, stretching you, made your body tremble with pleasure.

Elliott’s lips returned to your breasts, trailing kisses along your skin, his mustache brushing against your sensitive flesh. Each touch, each kiss, was like a spark, igniting the fire that burned between you. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he moved, his cock sliding in and out of you with a languid, sensual rhythm that left you gasping for breath.

“Feel that, love?” Elliott whispered, his voice a low, dangerous purr. “Feel how deep I am inside you? How perfectly we fit together?”

You could only moan in response, your fingers digging into his back as you arched up to meet his thrusts, your body aching for more. The slow, deliberate pace was driving you wild, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you that built and built until you thought you might explode from the intensity of it.

Elliott’s mouth found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he pressed a kiss to the spot just below your ear. “You’re mine,” he growled softly, his voice filled with possessiveness and love. “Always mine."

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m yours, Elliott… always.”

His growl of satisfaction vibrated against your skin, and he shifted his weight slightly, driving into you at a slightly different angle that made you cry out in pleasure. The sensation was overwhelming, the way he filled you so completely, the way his body moved against yours, the heat of the fire warming your skin as the cool night air brushed over you.

Elliott’s hands slid down to your thighs, lifting them slightly so he could thrust even deeper, his movements still slow and deliberate, but with a renewed intensity that made your toes curl. His cock filled you, stretched you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Christ, love,” he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so bloody perfect… so tight around me.”

You whimpered in response, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as you clung to him, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations he was wringing from you. Every nerve ending was alive with pleasure, every touch, every thrust driving you closer to the edge.

“Elliott,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breath. “I’m so close… please…”

He lifted his head, his hazel eyes blazing with intensity as he looked down at you, his thrusts slowing even more, each movement deep and deliberate. “I’ve got you, love,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of command and affection. “Come for me… let go.”

His words were your undoing. With a final, deep thrust, he pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as your orgasm crashed over you, your inner walls clenching around his cock like a vise. You cried out his name, your voice echoing through the forest as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you, your body trembling with the force of it.

Elliott groaned, his own release following moments later as he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he filled you with his hot seed. He kept moving, riding out both of your orgasms, his thrusts slow and deliberate, prolonging the pleasure until you were both spent, your bodies trembling with the intensity of the experience.

When it was over, Elliott collapsed against you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His hands slid up to cup your face, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss that made your heart swell with love.

“Happy anniversary, my darling,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mix of affection and exhaustion. “I love you… now and always.”

You smiled weakly, your body still trembling from the force of your orgasm as you looked up at him. “I love you too, Elliott,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. “Now and always.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms under the starry sky, the fire crackling softly beside you, you knew that this moment—this connection—was something special, something that would only grow stronger with time. The love you shared, the way you fit together so perfectly, was something to be cherished, something that would last a lifetime.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #elliott marston x reader #elliott marston

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katelynnwrites · 1 year

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Everywhere, Everything (I Wanna Love You) | Felicitas Rauch

warnings: insecurities and world cup hurt

word count: 1692

summary: your girlfriend comes back from the world cup after germany’s unexpectedly early exit

a/n: i had a fever and was sad when i wrote this so it’s kinda all over the place sorry…anyway it’s been exactly a week since we got our hearts broken ❤️‍🩹

‘Cinny let your mom sleep okay?’

You softly murmur to the small brown poodle who seems intent on burrowing under the covers.

Sitting up, you move her and lift the duvet on your side of the bed so that she remains happy while Feli is able to continue sleeping.

Gently, you run your fingers over your girlfriend’s bare back.

Her body is so tense, the bags under her eyes remaining apparent.

You usually joked that Felicitas has been making eye bags sexy since 1996 but now her usual eye bags are made even more obvious by the fact that she had been crying.

Your love had returned from Australia jetlagged, exhausted and devastated.

So devastated that she hasn’t spoken a word to you since.

Other than accepting the tight hug you had given her at the airport, she has been following your lead.

When you suggested she shower, she had gone to the bathroom but had waited for you by the bathroom door with a pleading gaze.

The same had happened when you suggested she take a nap. So just like earlier in the day, you had joined her.

In the shower, you had held her close under the hot water, letting her silently cry, allowing her tears to mix with the clean water.

In your shared bed, you had tucked her in and curled your body around hers protectively as she fought sleep until she had eventually given in.

You are hoping she will open up to you when she wakes up but for now, it’s all you can do to make sure you’re there for her.

******

Felicitas wakes up, hours later.

She wakes up and hurriedly grabs onto your hand, with that pleading look in her eyes again.

‘Feli I’m not going anywhere.’ You assure but she refuses to let go.

‘Okay then.’ You accept and squeeze her hand.

Cinnamon barks in excitement as she realises that her mom is up. She had been lying on the floor but once she hears you talking, she jumps up onto the bed.

Felicitas blinks at the wiggling ball of fluff in her lap and then cautiously pets her dog.

You frown at the tentativeness in her gesture. It’s almost like she’s afraid Cinnamon would disappear.

******

Feli still isn’t talking and it’s been almost a full day since she’s returned.

Feeling awfully guilty, you text Kathy and ask her for help. She’s one of Feli’s best friends and you hope that she has good advice for you.

You know you can’t understand the grief she is going through, you aren’t a professional athlete like her.

Your relationship with Feli was still in the early days when she had lost the Champions League final so you hadn’t known the true extent of what she had felt then. That meant that you couldn’t possibly comprehend that feeling of loss either.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, you also didn’t know what it was like for her after she lost the Euro final in England. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about.

It’s scaring you, how quiet your girlfriend is being so it’s to your immense relief when Kathy texts you back.

She tells you that Feli is normally silent with her grief and would need a lot of reassurance from you. The older Wolfsburg player urges you to make sure she eats, warning you that she has a bad habit of skipping meals after particularly harsh losses.

You reply her text with a quick thank you before turning your attention back to your girlfriend.

Thanks to Cinnamon, she hadn’t realised you were on your phone.

She’s completely focused on her dog, a sort of unreadable expression on her face as she plays with Cinny.

Taking Kathy’s advice to heart, you gently ask your girlfriend, ‘Are you hungry?’

Feli looks up immediately and shakes her head.

‘Feli you have to eat. I don’t know when you last ate but it must be a long time ago.’

Felicitas shakes her head again and you kiss her forehead lightly.

‘Liebling you have to eat. Even if it’s just something small.’

Felicitas frowns but doesn’t resist when you stand up, with her hand still in yours and lead her to your kitchen. Cinnamon follows suit.

Cinny had been staying with you while Feli had gone to Australia so the majority of her toys are scattered throughout your apartment.

Her ball is in your kitchen and that’s what she runs to as soon as the three of you enter.

Feli’s frown intensifies and you squeeze her hand to draw her attention back to you.

‘Hey liebling, why don’t you sit down over there?’

Felicitas stiffens and you have to nudge her into the chair at your kitchen table.

Letting her hand go for just a moment, you walk over to your fridge and take a pot of soy yogurt out for her.

It’s only something small but it’s better than nothing. Your girlfriend’s stomach has been empty for a while and the last thing you want is to make her sick.

‘Here Feli.’

Your girlfriend looks at the yogurt you’re offering before bursting into tears.

‘Feli I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ You rush out, hating that you had somehow upset her.

‘No no don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.’ She sobs.

‘Felicitas hey. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.’ You soothe, wrapping your arms tightly around her.

Her shoulders are shaking with the force of her sobs and she chokes out, ‘I did. I disappointed you.’

Pressing kisses onto the top of her head repeatedly, you promise, ‘You didn’t. You did no such thing.’

‘But I did. You saved up your leave just so you could fly down to Australia to watch me play in the knockout stages and now that’s wasted.’

There’s nothing but truth to your words when you say, ‘I love you Felicitas. I’m incredibly sorry the tournament didn’t go the way you hoped but that doesn’t mean my leave is wasted.’

Your girlfriend shakily takes a breath in, her voice small as she says, ‘Not only did I not win the trophy, I didn’t even qualify for the round of sixteen.’

‘I know and I am sorry for that. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you tried your best Feli.’

‘Well my best isn’t good enough! Especially for you.’

‘Felicitas, you tried your best. That’s good enough for me. You haven’t disappointed me because you did everything you could.’

Feli buries her head in her hands, fresh tears escaping from her eyes.

‘I don’t deserve you. You do all this for me…’

She glances at you, picking up the pot of yogurt on the table and continuing, ‘You know I love soy yogurt and you even remember to buy the brand that I’m not allergic to. When I’m away, you look after Cinny for me and send me photos because you know it makes me smile. You keep doing all these things that make me fall more in love with you. I don’t deserve to have you love me the way that you do.’

‘Feli-’

‘I can’t even begin to repay you for all that you do for me. The least I could have done was to play in the World Cup and make it worth your time. I couldn’t even do that.’ She finishes, having interrupted you.

‘Felicitas listen to me. Listen okay?’

You gently take her hands in yours, kissing her knuckles and waiting for your girlfriend to nod.

She does and you say, ‘I love you. I love you and I want to show you that I love you. There’s nothing for you to repay. Felicitas, you are not and will never be a waste of my time. I love watching you play, regardless of whether you win or not. My love for you isn’t dependent on things like trophies. I love you because of who you are. Yes, it’s because you are a football player but it’s also because of all the other things you do. Like when you order pizza with pineapple even though you don’t like it because you know I do. Being a football player is a big part of you but it’s not the only part of you that I love.’

Felicitas sniffles and uses the back of her hand to wipe away her tears.

‘I keep thinking you’re going to leave me. Sometimes I think that Cinnamon is going to leave me too. I know it sounds silly because she is my dog but…’ She shrugs hopelessly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

‘Feli…Cinny won’t leave you and neither will I.’

Your girlfriend shrugs again.

‘Felicitas how long has this been on your mind?’

‘Since you asked me out.’ She mumbles.

‘Feli….’ You breathe.

‘I’m not good enough for you. This World Cup just proves that.’ She adds.

‘Felicitas how can I show you that you are? Because I really really love you.’ You desperately ask.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Will it help if you talk to me? If we talk about this together?’

‘I-I think so. Just maybe tell me that you mean it? That you think I’m good enough for you?’

‘Feli I don’t think you’re good enough for me. I know that you are. I mean it liebling. You are more than good enough for me.’

You squeeze her hands in yours, keeping your expression open and honest, willing her to believe you.

Feli must after a while because she whispers a tiny, ‘Okay.’

Kissing her knuckles one more time, you nudge the pot of yogurt towards her.

As she finally starts to eat, taking small bites with a spoon, you know it’s not the end. There would be a repeat of this conversation, another time that Feli goes silent on you but that’s okay. You’ll learn more about her, about how to better be there for her.

Right now, you’re content to watch her eat. Her eyes may be swollen and there may be tears drying on her cheeks but you’re happy to simply be with her, in your own little bubble, just the two of you and Cinnamon.

German Translation:

liebling - love

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wildtrakaustralia · 2 years

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#tents #tents for camping #best tents australia #roof top tent

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wwry2018 · 1 year

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Curse of Yes/No

My name was Jace, I was 26 living in the suburbs of Sydney, it was getting close to the end of my year at uni and my girlfriend Sherry wanted me to go out and have some fun. She slid over a flyer for a local festival. A Halloween festival.

We don’t really celebrate Halloween in Australia. But as time has gone on it seems to be more and more present. Decorations being available to buy in stores, kids talking about trick or treating and festivals and street markets advertising Halloween themes.

My friends wanted me to go to one that was on tonight in town. It promised Fall themed food, spooky rides and classic Halloween fun. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to go or not. Usually I let others decide for me. And it was hot as hell. Fall themed food wasn’t what I was looking for when it was 35 degrees c in the shade. But as I said I wasn’t big on making decisions.

So my best mate Ricky said he would pick me up at 8pm and we would go and have a look. Sherry was working late and said it would be good for me to get out and try to relax. Being a third year accounting student it didn’t come easy. She said go relax just don’t let Ricky get you drunk.

He picked me up at 8 as he said and I climbed in his car, “Jesus man, for a doctor you don’t exactly promote healthy lifestyle do you?” Smoke was billowing out of he car “it’s my one vice, I know it’s not healthy but hey I’m addicted and I enjoy it” “is that your professional opinion?’ ‘Shut the fuck up and let’s go” we drove towards the fete.

As we walk into the festival it has this classic spooky horror theme of a gypsy caravan.. There are rides and haunted mansions to walk through but mostly it’s to theme. Ricky spots a fortune teller carriage at the end of a line. ‘Perfect” he says. ‘This is what you need. Go get your answers as you can never decide for yourself’. I um’d and ah’d if I should do it or not. Ricky just said ‘exactly” he put $50 in my hand and pushed me in the tent yelling”I’m going to hit on the hot carnie, have fun”

I tumbled inside and looked around seeing a man lounging in a chair having a drink. ‘I’m so sorry’ I said gathering myself.

‘My Friend was being pushy, literally and wanted me to have my fortune read, but I don’t know if I should or not. It’s not a very me thing to do, I mean it sounds like fun and all but, you’re here I don’t see an old crone and a crystal ball anywhere. Haha ‘

Old crone and crystal ball. Well that’s not a very nice stereotype!’ The man said. ‘ but I wouldn’t expect a ginger accountant named Jace to come for a reading in Australian either, so I guess we are even.’

‘How do you know my name? ‘ I said in shock and backing towards the door.

‘We are not all old crones or female, that was just to show you I’m the real deal. Com now sit. Ricky has paid for your thirty minutes, let’s not waste this.’ He says as he walks behind me and guides me to a chair across from him. ‘Hold out your hand, palm up’ I do so in shock and almost trance, I’ve never been a big believer but I always believe in what I experienced.

He looks at my palm only briefly and starts to speak. ‘ you are not on the right path’. I snap out of it. ‘Really ?” ‘I thought accounting was the right fit.’

‘Nothing is right’ accounting, your clothes, Sherry. All wrong, because all were not your choice. You simply let others decide for you, so now you are on the wrong path. Ricky. Ricky is the one right thing in your life. He will be the one to correct it. Trust in Ricky. Ironically it will take someone else to tell you what to do to make you get on the right path and choose your destiny’

As I snatch my hand away I get upset ‘what do you mean, all is wrong with me. Who says that to a person. And I love Sherry, I’m going to marry her,…. I think’ ‘I don’t know who you are or how you know these things but it’s wrong.’

As I go to storm to the exit I feel like I’m in a tumble dryer the world spins on its axis. I look back and the Gypsy is muttering and then spits at me. ‘ I give you a Curse! Not to hurt but help’ as I steady myself he walks towards me. ‘Use this to your advantage, not all curse’s can be detrimental. Until the clock strikes 12. Any question that is asked of a Yes. Or. A No. the opposite will be a reality. It has the power to rearrange you future your past. So be wise young Jace. And remember my words Ricky is the one to put you on a try path. Go now

I stumbled out of the carriage dazed wondering what had just happened. I looked at my watch. It was 9:15 pm. Sherry would be here soon and we can go home. I wasn’t looking and a bumped into a guy. “ watch where you’re going mate!” He yelled. “ hey do you smoke? Can I bum one?”

As I went to say no it was as if time slowed down and rewound very quickly to the day in the 8th grade when Tommy Doyle asked me to meet him behind the sheds at school to try smoking, he stole a pack from his dad. I had said no, but in this flash I has said yes. I joined Tommy, I had memory flood through my brain of school and uni and clubs always smoking, my friends were a little bit different to,, Ricky was there of course but they all didn’t seem so straight laced, my clothes seemed to feel looser, darker a little more edgier, I felt slightly more confident and strangely fitter, felt my arm tingle as a tattoo appeared as the spin came back to reality.

‘Yeah sure man” I think passed him the packet and lit the lighter from my pocket, “ sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going”

‘No problem” as the guy walked away I looked back and the gypsy was standing in the door way, laughing.

Something didn’t seem right, I turned to to go taking an another deep inhale on my smoke. I needed to find Ricky and get home to Sherry.

This is the first of a few chapters, let me know if I should continue.

#Curse #smoking #reality change #mental change #male transformation

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hammockblissblog · 25 days

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Camping Hammocks in Australia: Discover Comfort with Hammock Bliss

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#camping hammocks #best camping hammocks #camping hammock australia #hammock tent #dog hammock #baby hammock #hammock accessories

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mrchiipchrome · 11 months

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Once In A Lifetime

W.C.- 3 k

prompt 103. -I won't let you down.

prompt 107. -I haven’t seen you in a long time.

---------------------

June 17th 2011, a date that was etched in your brain forever, for it was the day you met your soulmate. In a large town situated in the northeast of Australia, a shy Swedish girl met an outgoing Aussie girl, roughly her age.

It was hard not to notice the gorgeous girl, and even harder for your 7 year old self not to stare at her. The way her movements were so gracious made you slightly envious, the ball at her feet moving smoothly as she kicked it back and forth.

The ball smacking you right in the face breaks you out of the trance the girl with the pretty eyes had put you in, the sudden momentum brings you down to the ground. Your parents, like always, weren’t paying you any attention, they wanted you to be ‘independent’.

“I’m so sorry! I was just trying to kick the ball at the goal but it went over, and I’m sorry.” The pretty girl was kneeling beside you, her eyes locked on yours. Dora had taught you a lot, but not how to decipher quickly strung together sentences of pretty girls with Australian accents.

“It is…no problem?” The nameless girl helps you into a sitting position, her eyebrows knitting together at the strange dialect that came with your words. It was foreign, that much she knew.

“I’m Mary” She sticks out a hand towards you eagerly, nearly thrusting it in your face. You grasp her warm hand in yours tentatively, sweaty palm meeting hers.

“My name is Y/n.” You reply, face red hot from the heat of the new country and from the girl in front of you.

“So, Y/n , do you want to play football with me?” She flashes you her pearly whites in a full face smile. Mary points down at the ball laying haphazardly beside you, picking it up and throwing it between her fingertips.

She smiles again when your head moves up and down frantically, pulling you back up on your feet as she leads you onto the pitch.

“Okay, you go in the goal!” She points at the goal of the small pitch, barely letting you get between the posts before she sends a ball towards you.

The sky turns dark after a couple of hours of throwing yourself on the ground to prevent the ball from rolling into the goal. You had improved greatly in the last few hours, that much Mary could admit.

“Hey Y/n, come here tomorrow at 12!” She calls out to your retreating form, seeing your thumb pointing upwards in agreement.

And in between the goalposts she found you the day after, t-shirt and shorts letting the rough pitch scratch at your arms and legs as you threw yourself left and right.

“Where are you from?” She asks one day, sitting beside you on that pitch you’d first met each other only months before. Your English has greatly improved, with the help of the pretty girl beside you of course.

“Sweden” Short and curt, there were days where you just couldn’t find it in you to string together more than a few words.

“Can you teach me Swedish?!” Mary asks excitedly, the now 8 year old you smiling up at the slightly taller girl. She throws her arms around your shoulders when you nod, your back hitting the ground with a soft thud.

You wrap your arms around the older girl, albeit reluctantly. Affectionate touch isn’t something you were used to.

Days, weeks, months and eventually, years passed. Mary and you stayed best friends all throughout the phases of growing up. The chemistry you had on and off the pitch confused most people, they’d see you with your arms around each other, lips pressed to the other’s hairline or cheek. There was barely anything platonic there left, and everyone except you two seemed to know.

The once innocent 7 and 8 year old girls were now two deeply (and secretly) in love 13 and 14 year olds. The two of you were peas in a pod, never able to find one without the other, well until that dreadful October night.

Four knocks in rapid succession wakes the sleeping girl, the firm taps to her window differing from the soft patter of the rain against her roof.

She rubs her eyes sleepily, turning her desk lamp on as she makes her way over to the window. The blinds cover your devastated expression, although not for very long as she pulls them back, revealing your tearstained face.

The window opens with a creak, Mary grabbing the back of your hoodie to drag you in through the small opening. You hit the floor with a loud thud, groaning as your shoulder smashes into the hard ground.

Sitting up, you lean back against the corner of her soft bed, the soft bed you’d slept in so many times before. You refuse to meet the forward’s gaze, tears welling up in your eyes at the mere thought of telling her.

She throws herself down next to you, Mary’s arm pulling your body into her own. The simple touch releases the floodgates, sobs echoing around the room, her hand moving up and down your arm soothingly.

“What’s happening, huh? Why are you so upset?” Mary’s heart broke at seeing you so sad, so devastated.

“I’m fucking moving” The words are hardly audible, mumbled into her shoulder through sobs. Tears slip down your face, colouring the Australian’s sleep shirt a darker shade of blue.

“What?! No, this is some joke. Where?” Her hand stills for a few seconds before she continues her ministrations.

“Back to Sweden. They got a ‘better job’ there, they never think of how I’m going to react, they just say yes to anything.” You cry to the older girl, who clutches you that much tighter, her head laying on top of yours.

“When do you go?” She whispers into the damp October air, lips moving to the sound of her own voice. Sniffling fills the tense silence, moving your hand up wipe away the salty tears painting tracks down your face. It comes down to land on her knee, gripping it with all your might.

“Umm…two weeks or something.” She brings one of your hands up to her lips, pressing them to the back of it. Neither of you were ready to live without the other, you were dependent upon each other.

“Well then lovely, we’ll just have to make these next two weeks the best ever possible.” Her body pulls away from yours, starring you right in the eyes.

Neither you nor Mary anticipate it. It just happens naturally, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that has fireworks exploding in your stomach. The delicate embrace is a confession of love, a promise to love each other forever, even if it’s from afar.

It’s simple, the love you share. It’s deeper than an ‘I love you’, deeper than the deepest point of the earth. And yet the simplicity didn’t explain why, how, when, or anything really. It was just there, underlying.

The two weeks are spent sharing kisses with your best friend under the sheets of her bed. Thankfully, Mary’s parents had basically unofficially adopted you, so they had no problem with you staying with them until you had to move.

Your parents barely even noticed your absence, too caught up in work to even think of you.

With everything you had to leave in Australia, you left part of your heart. The people around you, your family, and most importantly, Mary.

“Promise me you’ll go all the way beautiful. That you’ll become the best.” You whisper in her ear, about to go through security. The resentment you held for your parents had quadrupled the last few weeks, your home wasn’t in Sweden anymore, it was in Australia. It was in the form of a brown eyed beauty that had captured both your heart and soul.

“I promise lovely, I won’t let you down.” She looks around, your parents as always were preoccupied with their phones, and hers? They looked away as soon as she shot them a look.

Your person takes hold of your face and places one last kiss to your lips, taking her time to make sure you feel all her love in the kiss.

“Hey, beautiful! You’ll always be my person!” She turns around, flashing you one of her signature smiles, tears streaming down her face like they were down yours.

With one last wave, the best chapter of your life closes.

“Kom igen Y/n, det är tid att åka hem.” Your ‘mother’ tries to give you a reassuring smile, her bony hand laying on your shoulder.

It falls with a swift movement from you, tearing your shoulder away from her.

“Sverige är inte mitt hem längre M/n, Australien är.” You mutter angrily, your mother’s firm glare locked on you.

“Y/n Y/l/n, jag vet att det inte är den bästa situationen för dig just nu, men vi är dina föräldrar och vi bestämmer.” The man who dared to call himself your father told you sternly.

“Mycket till föräldrar har ni ju inte varit, en sten hade gjort ett bättre jobb än er två.” The two strangers in front of you look at each other, not caring enough to reprimand you. They didn’t know you either.

Hugging the blanket Mary had given you the night before closer to your chest, you could feel the love radiating off it.

———

A few years in Sweden and you were back home, back in Australia.

As soon as you turned 18 you moved out, changing your last name to one of your grandmother's maiden name, your so called parents had nothing to do with your footballing success. After all, you had signed your first professional contract at the age of 16.

And apparently you had a worthy enough season with your team that you were called up for the World Cup.

Of course you had your emotional support blanket with you, the old thing had lost all of her scent long ago and yet it was still there with you as a good luck charm.

“Y/n how are you not falling asleep right now?” Nathalie Björn questions you, seemingly amazed by your ability to stay awake for hours upon end.

“BabyBjörn have you forgotten that I’ve done this so many times before?” She looks at you astonished, maybe you had forgotten to tell them after all…

“Did I forget to tell you all that I lived in Australia for nearly seven years?” You ask, scratching your head in confusion.

“WHAT” “NÄE DET GJORDE DU JU INTE” and more expressions of surprise cling out through the plane.

“I have pictures to back me up, wait a sec and I’ll pull them up.” Your computer holds all your old memories, all the pictures flooding from the folder you had them in.

The interested parties crowd around your seat, pushing and shoving each other for a better view.

“Right so this is at the airport, basically the only picture my biological parents took. I think I was seven there.”

You continue to click through the photos, narrating as you go along. When you eventually reach the last one, the questions start flooding in.

“Who’s that girl in all the pictures?” One of them asks, you turning to look at your captain in confusion.

“Me?”

“No, the other girl” She slaps the back of your head lightly.

“Oh, she’s the best person I’ve ever met, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn��t for her.” The soft smile that paints your lips at the thought of her made your teammates smile too.

“You were in love?” Another one of the yellow clad players asks, them all having seen the pure love in your eyes as you looked at the pictures of the girl.

“Am” The team decided to leave you alone after that, you deciding to look at the pictures in the folder once again.

“Is it just me or did that girl look like Mary Fowler?” Filippa asks Björn, the two of them agreeing silently.

—————

Getting knocked out in the semifinal hurt. You were nearly there, in the final. But now you had no choice but to settle for the bronze medal match.

Like usual, you were starting on the bench. You couldn’t even be mad at the decision, Zesse had been playing magnificently all tournament long.

As the first goal came along you were screaming and jumping up from your seat, causing complete ruckus. One step closer to victory.

At halftime the elation can be felt all throughout the locker room, many slapping Zesse’s back for her incredible saves so far. The tactics and pep talk reinforces the spirit of the team before the second half begins.

In the 47th minute the host country gets a corner, a corner that results in your goalie laying on the pitch, clutching her head.

The medics are out quick, your coach looking at you.

“Y/n, go stretch, you’re going on.” The coach tells you, the bright bib being pulled off hastily. The substitution board goes up, showing off your number to be subbed in.

You feel the eyes of thousands on you, maybe the most people you’d ever had look at you, and yet her eyes are the ones you want to look at you the most.

The eyes that captured your soul all those years ago, the eyes you ultimately met when you walked past her and onto the pitch. The eyes that didn’t quite seem to recognize you fully, the eyes that scanned your tall frame.

Under the watchful eyes of thousands of Australians, you had what might’ve been the best game of your lifetime, leading your team to victory over the hosting nation.

Loud cheers in Swedish follow the three loud beeps of the whistle, the bronze medal finally yours. You run towards your friends, capturing them in big bear hugs and spinning them around.

But when you look at the Australians, more specifically Mary, you don’t have it in you to celebrate anymore. Instead you approach a few of them who are standing up, conversing quietly with tentative steps.

You speak up quietly, telling them that they did amazingly and even getting a few compliments in return. But the women could see that your eyes were drifting away from them every few seconds and towards one of their teammates. Excusing yourself politely, you make your way over to her sitting form.

You plop yourself down beside her, arms over your knees as your fingers pick at the grass. You can feel her eyes studying you, looking at your side profile.

“I’m sorry for not keeping in touch with you beautiful, it was pretty hard when you didn’t have a phone.” Your eyes are fixated on a ball in the distance.

Her sniffles remind you of when you told her you were moving, only this time it’s you who pulls her crying form into your now taller body.

It’s only when you look into her eyes properly that she seems to recognise you fully.

“Y/n?!” Reminiscent of all those times when you were younger, the older girl throws herself into your arms, yours wrapping around her protectively. Her tears wets the skin between your shoulder and neck, the two of you laying on a pitch like you always had been.

“I know pretty girl, we haven’t seen each other in a long time.” She smiles up at you, rolling off your body and onto the floor.

Holding hands, the two of you can’t help but catch up. It had been a few years since you’d talked after all.

“I’m proud of you and the person you’ve turned out to be, Y/n.” The tear that falls down your cheek is wiped away by the girl, hands warm as ever.

“I’m proud of you too, Mary.”

“Can I get your shirt?” She asks timidly, hands fiddling with her own.

“Of course love” Taking it off and handing it to her, you’re standing in only the usual sports bra, waiting for her to give you the Australian jersey that sits upon her shoulders. Instead you see her eyes shifting to the left, mischievous spark lighting them up.

In a millisecond, she takes off running with your shirt still in her hand. Chasing after her, you’re not nearly as fast as the forward and still you chase her, yearning for the usual laughter that follows it.

The freeing feeling of running around the pitch catches up to you, Mary’s laughter echoing in your ears. It makes you laugh too, in the end you’re both laying on the ground laughing like maniacs.

“Can I get your jersey now, beautiful?” You ask when the laughter has died down, her hands moving to peel her jersey from her body. When it’s off she hands it to you, putting yours on.

“You look good in Swedish colours, beautiful.” You kiss her hand softly, twirling her around so that you can see her from all angles.

“And you’d look even better in Aussie ones, love.” You hummed in response, looking around at your teammates who had looked on in confusion.

“I think we might need to tell them all why we’re hugging and laughing” Her hands clutch onto your arm as you lead her over to your team.

"Tjejer, det här är flickan från bilderna.” You tell them, the girl beside you waving timidly in your goalkeeper kit.

“Hej!” She says, the other women around you lighting up at her use of the Swedish greeting.

As everyone else is talking with your girl, you can’t take your eyes off her. But you do see the satisfied expression on Angeldahl’s face as she nods to Björn. Those two were always up to something…

-----------

Translations;

Kom igen Y/n, det är tid att åka hem - Come on Y/n, it's time to go home.

Sverige är inte mitt hem längre M/n, Australien är - Sweden's not my home anymore M/n, Australia is

Y/n Y/l/n, jag vet att det inte är den bästa situationen för dig just nu, men vi är dina föräldrar och vi bestämmer - Y/n Y/l/n, I know that this situation isn't ideal for you, bur we're your parents and we decide what's best.

Mycket till föräldrar har ni ju inte varit, en sten hade gjort ett bättre jobb än er två. - You two are barely my parents, a rock could've done a better job at raising me than you two.

BabyBjörn - a type of baby carrier from sweden

NÄE DET GJORDE DU JU INTE - NO YOU DIDN'T

Hej - Hi

#woso x reader #auswnt x reader #aussie week #mary fowler #mary fowler x reader #auswnt #woso #woso imagines

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sgiandubh · 9 months

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What makes a very mature and educated woman confuse the charisma of Jamie and Claire and fall behind the illusion of Sam and Cait?

Look at this picture and many others, look at Cait's smile and the happiness in her eyes

Look at the color of Tony's lips, I don't need to continue

Below this picture are many pictures of them from many years ago

This man has been a reality since 2015, so let us accept reality even if we do not like it

Note: I would love to read everything you write aside from Outlander and S&C

Dear (b)Itchy Anon,

Ah, yes. You folks are definitely a very predictable bunch, because you simply cannot help yourself and just have to do it. Every. Single. Christmas. Eve. For reasons transparent enough to make you & your kin instantly unlikeable.

I was just thinking, the other day, believe it or not. I was thinking of the disingenuous way you - or someone like you - engaged with @cb4tb on another Christmas Eve and told myself: 'I bet the farm this year it's going to be me'. And here we are, with a rather long - and also, rather curious- comment. What am I going to do with you, Anon? Just write a rather long and ironic answer to your delirious rant, what else?

Calling me 'very mature' made me spit my Pepsi - always better in Romania than the eternal Coca-Cola - and I have to dubiously and cheaply congratulate myself, too. In about six months, you were forced to transition from 'Christ, shippers are stupid' to 'Golly, some -if not most - of them really are educated people'. An apparent paradox that never made you question your surroundings.

For instance, I do not need to wear a turban, sport a cigarette holder, rent a garish tent and call myself Miss Cleo, in order to tell with eerie precision English is not your mother tongue, either. You still do have a big problem with phrasal verbs, because you couldn't have possibly meant I 'fell behind the S&C illusion', but rather that 'I fell for that illusion'. You see, falling behind is 'failing to do something in time' or 'being late with a due payment' or 'being unable to make the same progress as one's peers'. We, shippers, naturally have this kind of superpowers. And seasoned bullshit-o-meters, too.

For your information, I haven't. I explained it at length. There is no possible way to do it if one uses common sense and street smarts only. What I did see, along with thousands of other people, mind you, had absolutely -forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin again - fucking nothing to do with Seamus and Sorcha. I mean, d'oh - is this your best argument, Anon? That sad, wilted talking point? Wow. Just wow.

Then, you totally lose control and take The Scarecrow out of the closet (yes, pun totally intended), in the hope you'll make me screech with dread & horror, I suppose. Exactly which one of the five to ten max Tait pics am I supposed to look at? The one at the marathon, where he checks her pulse? The one in Australia, when he pitifully dangles that stick on a beach? The one with the flute? The fist-in-hand one? The one at this year's IFTA, where she looks through him and he begs for a smile? I shall never know, because you do not add any picture and since I am not Miss Cleo, there's no way I could ever guess. Instead, you describe Neverland in Technicolor, lips included (so help me God, I never looked at McIdiot's lips: I take pride in being mentally sound). Indeed, there is no need to continue, Anon, lest you would insist to ridicule yourself.

This man has been a (questionably) useful prop since 2016, in order to give credence to a narrative. You all know it. You all deny it. You live in a parallel reality, currently embraced by PR. Amen. That does not give you the right to police this fandom and no, your derailed zeal will not get you any Brownie points from C.

Speaking only for myself, I will tell you one last time: I will never blindly accept a convenient compromise fiction just because TPTB and/or PR tell me so.

Note: I doubt my writing interests you. I really do, because I don't deal in fanfic. And even if I am an Oriental, know flattery never worked with me. In fact, I can't stand it.

It's Christmas. Take a break from all this pathetic hatred, Anon: if you have but a cell left of humanity in yourself, you can't possibly be proud of this message and there are far more interesting and meaningful ways to spend this special day. He came for you, too. And that is the most important thing in the world, right now.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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cherrylng · 3 months

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MUSE Trivia and More [INROCK (December 2018)]

Three all the way The three members - Matthew Bellamy (vo./keys./g.), Chris Wolstenholme (b.) and Dominic (Dom) Howard (dr.) - have remained the same since the band formed in the early '90s.

Discography Muse have produced eight albums to date. The eighth is their latest, 'Simulation Theory', due for release on 9th November 2018.

● Debut album 'Showbiz' (1999) Released in '99, it reached a top ranking of 29 in the UK charts and sold 700,000 copies. It did not chart in the USA.

● Second album 'Origin of Symmetry' (2001) Number 3 in the UK, 1.5 million copies sold so far. Top 10 in seven European countries. Not released in the USA until four years later in 2005. This delay was caused by the band's then-owned label in the US, Maverick Records, deciding that Matthew's falsetto was not suitable for radio, and the band parted ways with the label as a result of the discussions at the time. It did not chart on Billboard (#161) until February 2010, another five years after its release in the USA.

● Third album 'Absolution' (2003) Number one in the UK and France. Top 10 in 10 European countries. Has sold 3.5 million copies worldwide to date.

● Fourth album 'Black Holes and Revelations' (2006) Number one in the UK, Australia, Ireland and Switzerland. It was the best-selling album of the year in Europe. It was the band's first ever Top 10 album in the USA. It sold nearly 4.5 million copies worldwide.

● Fifth album 'The Resistance' (2009) First album produced by the band themselves. It reached No. 1 in 14 countries, including the US Billboard Alternative Chart. It also sold around 4.5 million copies worldwide.

● Sixth album 'The 2nd Law' (2012) Sales fell to 2.5 million copies, but it reached number one in more than 10 countries. The stadium tour that accompanied the album recorded the largest attendance in the band's history, generating revenues of $103 million (approx. ¥11.551 billion) from 79 shows. The show at Rome's Stadio Olimpico, which attracted more than 60,000 spectators, was later released as the live album 'Live at Rome Olympic Stadium'.

● Seventh album 'Drones' (2015) The band reached number one in 15 countries and number one in the USA for the first time. The footage from the Drones tour was turned into a film, which was screened for one night only around the world on 12th July this year (note: there was also an encore screening in Japan). No DVD release date has yet been announced.

Funny memories Dom cites the Zepp DiverCity Tokyo show on 13th August 2013 as his funniest memory ever. During the last four songs, a group of people wearing headgear (presumably roadies and friends) stormed onto the stage. The footage was filmed, but the full story has not yet been released. [T/N: It has since been released on Muse's YouTube channel on April 2020. It was for Panic Station, Supermassive Black Hole, Can't Take My Eyes Off of You, and Starlight. You're welcome.]

Father George Bellamy Matthew's father, George Bellamy, is a rhythm guitarist best known for his '60s band The Tornados. He still plays in local Devon bands.

Metallica are also fans of Muse! The band played at the Big Day Out rock festival in Australia and New Zealand in 2004. At the time, there were no rehearsal trucks available, so the main act Metallica set up a rehearsal tent right next to the main stage. As Muse exited the stage after their turn, Metallica were often heard warming up with 'New Born', a song from their second album Origin of Symmetry.

Rise to prominence When they played Glastonbury Festival for the first time on 25th June 2000 [T/N: Technically, this is their second time performing in Glastonbury. Their first time was actually on 25th June 1999], they were ninth out of 11 on the Other Stage. They parked an old Volkswagen van in the guest/artist campsite, pitched a tent next to it and cooked breakfast outside. Four years later, in 2004, they became the headlining artist on the Pyramid Stage. They no longer needed to camp in tents.

Temporary bedroom The songwriting for third album 'Absolution' was done in a warehouse in East London. Chris therefore set up and slept in an air-inflated bed there, which he bought from IKEA.

Where are the first performance recordings!? They are still very embarrassed about their demo tapes 'This is a Muse Demo' ('95) and 'Newton Abbot Demo' ('97) and their first performance as a band when they tried out for the Battle of the Bands contest ('94). Whenever a copy of "This is a Muse Demo'' was put on an auction site, someone would sell it for an unbelievable amount of money. The "someone" is thought by fans to be the band members themselves.

Poker face!? The three of them like to play poker. When they played with Robert Smith (The Cure, vo./g), they won a lot of money. At one point, they played almost every day on tour, and as a result Matthew owed his crew and band members thousands of dollars. He likes to go to the Bellagio Casino in Las Vegas to play poker with betting limits, because it's not so easy with restrictions. He still plays on the tour bus, but there is also alcohol involved, so at the end of the day it's all about throwing chips at each other.

Jetpack For their show at Wembley Stadium in June 2007, the band planned to appear on stage with jet packs, which would allow them to fly using the jets on their backs. However, the stadium's health and safety team refused permission. Matthew's guitar was allowed to be carried onto the stage by a remote-controlled robot. Incidentally, Matthew actually bought and owns the jet pack for £10,000. He was addicted to such gadgets for a while, but woke up one day when he lost his mobile phone and realised he could still live without it.

Avoiding the 9/11 attacks On 10 September 2001, Muse were due to play a showcase gig at the Mercury Lounge in New York. But when that was cancelled, they flew early to their next destination, Boston. If they had stayed another night at a hotel on New York's Lower East Side as planned, they might have been caught up in the attacks on the World Trade Centre.

A row with Celine Dion In 2002, there was a row with Celine Dion. She revealed her plans to name her long-running Las Vegas show Muse. Matthew commented, "I don't want people to think we're Celine Dion's backing band." Celine insisted on the title Muse and proposed an offer to pay them £32,000 (approximately JPY 4.7 million), which Muse refused. Celine's management then pushed to go ahead with the plan anyway, and Muse considered filing a lawsuit. In the end, Céline relented and the title changed to 'A New Day'… and began its extended run the following year in 2003.

Matthew, you're about to get killed! Matthew likes scuba diving, but thinks he was nearly killed by an instructor once. The instructor liked Matthew's girlfriend at the time and tried to kill him by putting only half the oxygen in his oxygen tank when she got in the way. As well as scuba diving, Matthew has also tried squash, but he always ends up crashing into the wall and getting hurt.

Personal life ● Matthew Matthew was engaged to Italian psychologist Gaia Polloni until December 2009 and lived in a mansion in the village of Mortolazio on the western shore of Lake Como in Italy until 2010. The mansion was put on the market last year for just under USD 2 million (approximately JPY 224 million). It is approximately 250 square metres in size. It was built in the late 1820s, when the Italian composer Vincenzo Bellini lived there and Winston Churchill was invited to visit and paint. Neighbours include George Clooney and Sir Richard Branson. Matthew made the album 'The Resistance' here. After his breakup with Gaia, he started dating actress Kate Hudson in the spring of 2010 and got engaged the following year. Their son, Bing, was born in July of the same year. He and Kate ended their engagement in December 2014. He started dating model Elle Evans in 2015 and they became engaged in December 2017. Matthew now lives in the USA and owns at least three mansions in the Los Angeles area. Two of them are in Malibu. One was purchased from radio personality Adam Carolla in late 2014 for $3.6 million. The other house was purchased in 2016 for $2.6 million (JPY 291 million). The third house was bought last year for $7.25 million (approximately JPY 813 million) on a green lot in Brentwood, between Westwood and Santa Monica, from former tennis player Pete Sampras. In addition to this, he also owns mansions in his hometown of Devon and in London. In addition, in Malibu, he is neighbours with Chris Martin (Coldplay, vo./g. / piano), with whom he occasionally exchanges dirty-talking emails. In jest, of course.

● Chris Chris has six children with his wife Kelly, whom he married in 2003. His alcoholism deteriorated to the point of vomiting blood at one point, yet his bass playing skills remained undiminished and those around him were slow to realise the gravity of the situation. However, during the making of The Resistance, he finally entered rehab and underwent treatment. He has been sober ever since.

● Dom There is no mention of Dom getting married. Last autumn, he adopted a dog named Floyd, who appears to be a Boston terrier.

Guitars smashed Matthew entered the Guinness World Records in 2010 for smashing 140 guitars on tour in 2004. But he didn't actually break that many, and the guitars he smashed on stage usually just split the body and neck in half. Even if they look broken, they are actually repaired and returned. He has only broken about four guitars before he really broke them again, and one of them was a Gibson Les Paul that he didn't break on stage, but smashed into a cupboard. Counting his entire career, he has destroyed and replaced roughly 20 necks. But it's not just the guitars that suffer from Matthew's act. Dom is also a good nuisance. He has been injured three times so far because of the guitars Matthew has thrown around.

China tour When the 'Drones' tour visited Beijing on 9th September 2015 and Shanghai on 21st September 2015, 'Uprising' and 'Revolt' were removed from the set list. This was because they were deemed excessively political by the Chinese government.

'Twilight' series of romantic films Stephenie Meyer, author of the popular Twilight novels, is a big fan of Muse. Therefore, the soundtracks of the film trilogy 'Twilight' (2008), 'New Moon/Twilight Saga' (2009) and 'Eclipse/Twilight Saga' (2010) contain the songs 'Supermassive Black Hole', 'I Belong To You (+Mon Coeur S'Ouvre A Ta Voix)' and 'Neutron Star Collision (Love is Forever)', respectively. Neutron Star Collision was written specifically for Eclipse.

Impressions of Kanye West Matthew likes rap music and is a big fan of Kanye West. He describes Kanye's music as "It's already thoroughly me, me, me." However, one time Kanye came to say hello to Muse backstage, and instead of being "me", he just talked about T-shirts and left. Matthew found it so funny that he later named his cats Kanye and Kim (Kanye's wife Kim Kardashian).

Translator's Note: Okay, so I already knew a good majority of these trivia information as a long time fan, but I do acknowledge that some are new to me. Mostly, given that all of this information was up until late 2018, some of the information written in there can be considered as outdated.

#Matt Bellamy #Dom Howard #Chris Wolstenholme #Muse #Simulation Theory era #my scan #translation #INROCK #INROCK December 2018

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