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#and then people would be like don't bring up the leaks
myimaginationplain · 2 days
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I've found that when it comes to discussing who has the best claim to the iron throne and/or the Targaryen dynasty, there's often this implicit assumption that when Jon finds out about his true parentage, the knowledge will inevitably leak to the general Westerosi public. People love to theorize about whether or not the Northerners would continue to support Jon if his being Rhaegar's son came to light, or if he would be pushed as heir to the iron throne over Dany & Aegon, & I'm just like...how would any of them find out about it? Why would any of them find out about it?
I feel like some people believe that when Jon finds out about R + L = J, he'll, I dunno, send out news letters about it or something? Publicly renounce his status as Eddard Stark's son? I don't exactly understand what people think Jon would do with the information, but anything less than keeping as tight a lid on it as possible would be very out of character for Jon. Guys, we're talking about the same guy who purposefully gave a young mother the wrong baby. He's not gonna be cavalier about this.
The only people we can really be certain he'd feel the need to tell the truth to are Arya & Sansa. We know that Bran is likely to already know the truth himself by then through his greenseer tree-god bullshit; Rickon, even if he is found & taken to Winterfell by the time the other siblings reconvene (which I find highly unlikely), would probably be considered too young to trust with information like that.
Daenerys is also an extremely likely candidate for being one of the few people Jon would tell, although this is variable, as it depends on what sort of relationship you believe she & Jon will have by the time R + L = J is revealed. I for one am betting on she & Jon already being involved in some capacity by the time he finds out, thus making her one of the people he'd tell. But if you're in the camp of people who think they'll be enemies by then, he probably wouldn't tell her in that scenario.
Sam is furthest down on the very short list of people Jon would probably tell. I think it's likely, seeing how much he trusts Sam & leans on him for support. But still, it's not a sure thing.
So, including Howland Reed (who has successfully kept the secret for ~17 years now), that makes just 6-7 people who would be privy to Jon's parentage. None of whom would have much motivation to go screaming about it from the hilltops in any scenario where they're still behaving like themselves. (If any of you bring up show!Sansa here, then I'm gonna beat you with a hammer. Don't be a hypocrite; if you can acknowledge & accept that literally every other character was wildly ooc in Season 8, then do the same with Sansa. Betraying Jon's trust after swearing not to before a heart tree is just as ooc for book!Sansa as purposefully burning Kings' Landing to ash would be for book!Daenerys.)
Even in the event that Jon rides a dragon, I think that can easily be explained away by lying about Jon's mother. "Oh, why can I ride a dragon? Not many people know this, but my mother was actually a Lyseni whore. You know they have some Valyrian blood in them. She died in childbirth, though, which is why my lord father took me in." Who's gonna call his bluff on that? Ned's resolute silence on Jon's mother would absolutely work in his favor. The historical precident set by Nettles & others like her means that Jon can 100% just say his mother was the daughter of some unknown dragonseed or something.
IMO, the real question we should be asking is, if Jon were to have children, would he ever tell them the truth?
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thewriters-world · 9 hours
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Marc is writhing beneath Valentino, hands clawing at the white sheets. Though it can't be seen clearly through the flat screen television, it is obvious to all, that Valentino has his hand on Marc's cock. Valentino huffs a breathy laugh at Marc's scrunched up face before leaning forward and closing his lips around his nipple.
Cristian pauses the video at that point to Marc's relief. Marc gets to keep the way he jumps up with a groan, gets to keep the way Valentino's mouth absorbs his sounds. The way Valentino presses an open mouthed kiss to the hollow of his throat as Marc cums, strings of white shooting against the flat plane of Valentino's abdomen.
Marc feels the bile his stomach rush to storm his oesophagus, feels the very path it takes to claw it's way out. He swallows.
Alex's face is twisted into something complicated, Marc is sure his face is doing something similar. He can't quite bring himself to face his grim-faced team members. Instead he elects to push his face into his hands, pushing back his curls in frustration. Cristian clears his throat and Marc has to look up.
The press manager looks at him expectantly, as do the other members of his team. For the first time Marc realises how dishevelled they all look. Marc feels sorry that they had to wake up early in the morning because of him. Marc finds himself realising that people don't usually wake up at 5am to make breakfast smoothies and workout.
Maybe they can see it in the way Marc's face turns blank at their glances, the way he can't quite meet their eyes. Cristian sighs disappointedly before turning his attention back to the drawing board, gesturing and articulating something that Marc knows is important but can't quite bring himself to listen.
He knows Cristian has bought him some time. He still needs to explain it all, the team has to put out a statement. Marc doesn't know how to say that he was once in a romantic relationship with Valentino Rossi. Doesn't know how to say that Valentino - kinky bastard - liked to record their escapades. Doesn't know how to say that he thinks Valentino leaked the tape to get back at him.
Marc keeps his head low as Alex guides him to wherever he needs to be. He has no intention of facing the vultures of the paddock just yet. He can hear the rise and fall of the paddock, the beating heart of the pen that tethered him to the sport he loved so. But today they talk about him in a way never done before, they whisper. He doesn't need to hear his name to feel the heat of the glances people throw his way. Maybe it's that, or maybe it's the way he feels weak in his knees or maybe its how the patch of green grass is wet but Marc stumbles.
It's only when he looks up to steady himself does he see Valentino. The older Italian looks entirely composed, almost effortlessly. His arms are folded as his curls fly around his face in the summer breeze, he squints under the shining sun. For a horrifyingly long time Marc continues to look at Valentino, urging him to look right back. He doesn't. Marc knows his feelings are written all over his face, he never has been able to hide. He knows that his eyes support the same shiny sheen from all those years ago, knows if he spoke his voice would crack with the same pubescent squeakiness he supported more than a decade ago. His eyes meet the concrete once more.
He stews at the unfairness of it all. Recognises that Valentino's holiness saves him from the condemnation. Knows that they'll point at him and laugh ('what did you do to lose Valentino Rossi'). They will want to know, what was so unforgiveable that Valentino Rossi cast him out. Marc will have no answers, how will he say that one day he woke up not to the warmth of Valentino's arms but to the cold of their bedsheets. How does he say that in all his euphoria he hadn't even expected an unamused Uccio Salucci looking down at him. Hadn't expected the older Italian to drop his clothes onto him, face scrunched up in disgust. Doesn't know how to say that he expected Valentino to waltz in like a Knight in shining armour, explaining it all. Doesn't know how to say that as Uccio threw him out like trash it was cold but not as cold as the shoulder Valentino gave Marc the next time he saw him.
After all these years, Valentino still gets to leave him out in the cold as he enjoys the warmth. After all these years Marc has to take it all, take the jokes, the questions. The barbed wire comments that Marc is oh-so good at pretending don't actually hurt ('you ruined the sport') the words they all say tinged with the essence of Valentino ('do you think maybe you were a bit aggressive at that corner). They aren't your words' Marc wants to say to the journalists, wants to see the penny drop. He would never admit it because he knows what they say about people who make up imaginary scenarios but sometimes he imagines them saying sorry ('sorry for laughing whilst you broke') and he imagines himself saying 'fuck you'. Except he would never actually say that, he would forgive and forget in a heartbeat if it meant they knew him.
Marc wishes Valentino left them with the words he would say into his back ('you're so pretty'), into his forehead ('I'm proud of you'), into his mouth ('you're a champion baby'). Marc wishes they could see the Marc that Valentino wanted, why did Valentino show them the Marc that he discarded.
He doesn't even realise that Alex has led him to the company car until he is being pushed in and the door closes behind him. Marc hasn't been able to articulate an explanation to Alex, truth be told Marc isn't too sure he has an explanation. Maybe Alex senses it, the way Marc's entire world has been thrown off kilter, he places a hand on Marc's balled up fist. Something tells Marc that Alex doesn't really care about the contents of the tape, he releases his fist, finally breathing.
He sits opposite Álex at the table that leads into his suite, face propped up onto his fists as his brother looks at him.
"Sooo?" The younger Marquez brother questions with a raised brow, elongating the word, it would seem teasing if it wasn't for the way his voice cracks.
"Valentino and I had something" Marc admits stiffly, resisting the urge to pull at the collar of his shirt. Alex's face shutters.
"Something?" He questions incredulously, face doing something complicated once more.
"That video was more than something" The younger Marqeuz brother huffs, Marc blanches, he doesn't know how long the video was, doesn't know what his brother saw.
"You were in love?" Álex questions with such raw softness in his voice and Marc feels as though he's going to vomit on the very expensive rug before him.
Marc likes to pretend it wasn't love. Likes to pretend it was some sort of teenage infatuation. But -
"Yes" his hands feel clammy and his heart beats faster against his chest at the admission.
"You were devastated when Valentino said-" Álex pauses closing his eyes so hard that Marc is sure he can see patterns under his eyelids.
"I didn't understand why back then" it's like Álex is talking to himself now.
"Why you wouldn't stop sobbing" He gets up, there's a shiny sheen to his eyes.
"Why you wouldn't eat or drink anything, why you wanted to keep his posters in a box besides your bed, why you'd sit on the corner of your bed holding the posters, unfolding and then folding" Álex is pacing the room now, Marc hadn't even known that his brother was there to watch him lose his mind over Valentino. Marc wants to go back, turn around so he can see Álex sitting on the staircase that leads straight to his bedroom. Wants to call his brother into his bedroom and tell him not to worry so much for him, he will be okay. This is nothing as dramatic as your little brain is thinking.
"But you loved him" Álex says, Marc feels the words stab into his heart like a dagger.
"That's why" Álex says it as though he has found all the answers as he slumps onto the seat besides him. Marc supposes he does have the answers for why his brother broke that one time.
"Yes" Marc acknowledges, he doesn't have it in himself to stay seated with his brother and talk about it. He knows it's rude but he stumbles away to his bedroom. Álex doesn't even call for him.
Marc doesn't even know how tired he was until he closes his door and slumps against it, feeling all the energy leave. He thinks he was trying to be brave for his brother.
He kicks his shoes off, doesn't care where they end up. Normally he would make sure to change into his pyjamas, fold his clothes into neat little squares but today, he slumps onto the bed.
He rests his phone on his pillow, pretends like this is how he always sleeps. Pretends that as the screen on his phone lights up with messages and calls he isn't looking for one specific name.
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booasaur · 7 months
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The Morning Show - 3x02
Here at UBA, we pride ourselves on being transparent with all of our viewers. We consider you part of our family. Which is why I need to let you know that certain things may come to light, personal things that were never meant to be shared. While all of our lives are increasingly public, each of us has the right to our privacy. And this network will continue fighting for that right, no matter the cost. UBA as made a decision not to pay the ransom demanded by the individuals who have stolen the private data of thousands of dedicated employees.
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amplexadversary · 1 year
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Ashton Greymoore: “See, this is what happens when you start externalizing every fucking problem that you have. Easy to take a look at.
There’s a bunch of people who are treating other people like, just like they’re fucking nothing, like they’re fucking pawns. It doesn’t matter what the fuck they want - they are doing it wrong, it is not hard to see.
You’re being fucked with. We’re all being fucked with; whatever the fuck they say they’re doing, that’s where I draw the g-, the line. If they had such a great idea of what the world was supposed to be and what that thing was, they could just tell people.
But instead they’re making everybody miserable. They’re killing people.
Fuck that, fuck them, and I am going to be more than happy to drop a fucking ship on them.
I’m so sick of this shit.”
-Critical Role, Campaign 3, Episode 49 1:43:02
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bellamygateoldblog · 2 years
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idk i feel like everyone would be so much happier if u just minded ur business and let ppl get on with who they are
#like i soooo don't care just let people do what they do and be who they are u dont need to#b making a callout post for ppl just living their lives n somehow that makes u feel victimised#just be open and take people at their word???? dont challenge ppl abt their own identity dont bring up politics and discourse#when someonr is just like. trying to be comfortable w who they are its so counterproductive and unnecessary and SO terminally online#'i wish yall would learn ur history' girl i communicate with the elders irl DAILY and they do not act like u r acting rn#knowing textbook info abt shit and acc communicating w people from other generations r two separate things#idk idk#sometimes other parts of tumblr (non-fandom) leak onto my dash and im reminded of how. ridiculous it all is#like turning on eachother.......picking EACHOTHER apart.....that is NOT the enemy its soo si so so so stupid#sowing distrust and seperation in a community instead of standing united against the ACTUAL oppressor...blows my mind truely#these r the same ppl that would callout an elder for saying something problematic that they used back then but we dont anymore#like it doesn't work like that#💀💀💀💀#u cannot b acting like this fr#just listen to eachother#b like oh that isnt my experience but i understand and i get why you feel that way#sooooo many things determine how we are and what we do the main thing is to just be. open honest and non judgemental#telling eachother theyre wrong for being like they are is just doing the same thing the oppressors are doing#just think ppl should b more mindful abt what discourse is acc appropriate and productive#what is actually worth criticising and what rly isnt that big of a deal and should absolutely not be getting more attention than the former
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writingouthere · 4 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).
no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.
cw: Sukuna being a menace
Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.
He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.
You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.
"What's wrong," he asked.
"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."
Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.
"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.
Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.
"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.
"Go, I got it."
You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.
"Thank you so much, I don't even-"
"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."
You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.
It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.
Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.
Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.
Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.
He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.
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strawb3rrystar · 5 months
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Young! Coriolanus Snow Headcanons for you lovely people (Sfw & Nsfw)
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Word count: 400+
✰Masterlist
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✰ No one can convince me otherwise, Coryo would eat you out like a starving man. Once he starts, he's not fucking stopping.
✰ He'll have you shaking and crying from overstimulation.
✰ Clingy af, can't be alone for five minutes. Has to be touching you 24/7. Holding your hand, or waist, cuddling, hell even touching shoulders.
✰ Loves when you sit in his lap while he works. He also loves to rest his chin on your shoulder or head.
✰ Once he starts climbing the ranks and earning more money, he'll buy you anything you want.
✰ Is obsessed with the image of you on your knees with little tears in your eyes as you try and take all of his cock in your mouth.
✰ Kisses your hand out of habit. He doesn't even think about it. He just does it.
✰ Buys you lacey, cute lingerie, just so he can rip it off you.
✰ Coryo is the most jealous man you will ever meet. Like, he'll see you talking to another person and maybe laughing a little too much at their jokes. And then he'll drag you away to fuck you until you remember who you belong to.
✰ Definitely has some kind of ownership kink. Coryo wants to get married as soon as possible, so you can take his last name and be with him forever.
✰ Even though he's rough, Coryo is just so passionate that he gets a little loud. Prefers to bury his face in your neck or smash his lips onto yours to muffle his moans.
✰ He'll gift you extravagant rose bouquets out of nowhere just to see you smile.
✰ Loves the idea of fucking you in front of a mirror, making you watch your abdomen bulge from his size.
✰ Is terrible at dealing with emotions, especially his own, so he'll kiss your tears as he rubs your back.
✰ Purposefully fucks you in a risky spot, the adrenaline rush he gets is just too good to care if someone walks in.
✰ Would keep your relationship private until you get married. Not because he's ashamed of you. He's just worried about your safety, as there are many people who don't particularly like him.
✰ Is iffy on the idea of children, but loves to see you stuffed full and leaking his cum.
✰ If he's invited to an event, he'll bring you along with him.
✰ In between a hard dom and service dom. Coryo can be rough at times, but he'll always makes sure you are enjoying yourself and get to cum.
✰ He has a picture of you on his desk to help him stay motivated.
✰ Let's you ride him every once in a while, but he's still guiding you and grabbing your hips.
✰ Will always have post-sex cuddles with you. It's his favorite thing to do after a long day.
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Star's notes -> Just some small headcanons that popped up in my brain.
(Requests are open!)
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Taglist -> Join the taglist
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walpu · 2 months
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Hellohello, peeking from the corner
And dropping by to request Aventurine x reader that likes to give him trinkets and souvenirs from their travels.
And then one day they came with Ashy Paste/Grey Bean Paste version of them and him together all smiley faced and all.
(Fun fact, from a leak: Aventurine's actual name is Kakavasha. Fun fact 2: Kakava is a celebration event of the Romani people)
- 🪽
Aw it's such a cute request 😭 shaking crying asking hoyo to make the second part of the cats event with penacony and belobog characters
I've seen the leaks about his name and the meaning behind it since I'm literal insane about this man. Honestly this is such a pretty name 🥹
Hope you'll enjoy reading this 🌸
giving Aventurine Ruan Mei's cat creations that resemble the two of you
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characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, was written with the established relationship in mind but works for pre-relatioship stage as well, no beta see I'm capable of writing something other than angst
First of all, he absolutely adores it when you give him small gifts from your travels.
It's a reminder that you care about him enough to think of him when he's not around.
And while yes, it's obvious that you care, it's nice to know that you care enough to go out of your way to do something for him.
He's a miserable man with no friends okay even the small trinket is enough to make him happy.
Keeps them safe and takes care of each and every gift you give him. Brings some a lot of them with him to casino or/and to his business meetings, claiming that those are his lucky charms.
If it's a peace of jewelry then he would not hesitate to buy several sets of clothes just to have numerous outfits specifically to show off your gift.
If it's some unusual gift then he would not leave you alone until you tell him where did you get it.
Speaking of unusual gifts. He certainly didn't expect that your visit the Herta Space Station will result in you bringing with you two... cat thingies?
At first he simply doesn't get it. It's a bit impractical for you to get a pet since you're traveling so much, no?
But then he notices. Something.
"Darling, call me a delusional romantic but don't they resemble us, hmm?"
When you tell him that those cat thingies are, in fact, creations of Ruan Mei herself, and you just accidentally helped her to creat two cats that resemble you two, he can't help but laugh.
"Ah, sugar, seems like it's not just me who is a helpless romantic. So you've missed me that much that you made are a cat just like me, haha?"
You explain to him that you didn't actually adopt them, Ruan Mei just let you take them with you for some time to examine how socialization with others outside if the Herta Station may affect them.
At first he thinks it's for the best, since, once again, it's impractical to keep them as pets.
Spoiler warning he'll pout and whine when it's time to return them to Ruan Mei.
Loves observing them. Like genuinely adores doing it. Especially if it's the cat that resembles you. Would pester you to take a look every time the cat acts like you.
Would probably feel a bit uncomfortable around the Aven!cat but eventually would warm up to him as well. Mostly because he'll notice how much the reader!cat loves him.
Takes a lot of pictures of the cats together and sends them to you.
"Us <з" "Yeah well they were literally made after us so..." "Uuuussss 😚😚😚"
You know how a lot of cat thingies were talking in high pitched voices? Yeah he would chuckle and pester you to try to talk like that as well.
Lmao but imagine Aven!cat saying something about risks and gambling and benefit etc etc in this high pitched voice. Aven himself would probably chuckle and say something like ”haha little guy knows what it's all about” but would sulk if you'll tease him about it.
Would probably try to buy them from Ruan Mei afterwards lol
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oneforthemunny · 2 months
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build me up, buttercup |dad!rockstar!eddie munson x mom!nepo baby!reader|
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prompt: you and eddie are planning a baby shower to welcome in your first baby, persephone. or how the girl's flower themes are born.
a teeny tiny blurb that i'm excited to share. follows the lore than each of the girls have their own flowers, and this is how persephone's came to be <3 hope you enjoy!
contains: pure fluff. honestly just cutesy shit. language. pregnant!reader.
"I just want something bright." You hum, swaying gently to soothe your sore, aching joints. Your ring dazzled in the bright light pouring in from the open windows, smoothing over the swell of your stomach.
"Is there a specific color, Mrs. Munson?" The timid event planner asked, spreading out swatches of bright yellows, powdery blues, pastel pinks. "If we start with a color, maybe that would help narrow down the options?"
"I don't know." You frowned, a swell of frustrated tears bubbling to life in your chest. You didn't know, and you hated that you didn't know. It was your baby shower, you wanted it to be perfect.
Eddie's spine straightened, eyes cutting to you carefully. He sensed the tears, the irritation of feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, all threatening to come out the only way they knew how to. He'd been on the receiving end of too many of those fits. His hand found your thigh, squeezing it gently, thumb rubbing soft circles over your soft flesh, a desperate attempt to soothe.
"You're wanting flowers, right? That's the main theme." Your assistant, Natasha, a complete saint in disguise. With pregnancy brain and hormones, you were sure you'd never make it without her. "Do you have options for a floral theme?"
"Yes," The planner squeaked, thumbing through her briefcase of photos, swatches, notes.
Eddie felt you tense, your hand rubbing over your stomach in slow circles, huffing in defeat. "Hey, could you give us a second, Nat?" Eddie hummed. "Just give us one sec to look and kinda talk."
"Of course. Let's take a little break. I'll go get some tea." Natasha gave you both a small smile, padding to the kitchen the event planner following closely behind.
Your sigh, heavy and huffy, echoed off the walls. It made Eddie cringe gently, pulling the flower pictures closer to the two of you. "What about this one? Nice and pink for ya." Eddie held the small sample photo up to you, filled with sweet peas and hydrangeas, obnoxiously pink.
"Yeah," You muttered, lips still puffed in a pout. "I don't even know if I want pink anymore."
"Blue?" Eddie grinned lightly. "Trick everyone into thinking it's a boy incase there's a leak." He cringed when your breath hitched, eyes wide in horror.
"I'm kidding, baby." Eddie added quickly. "No one's gonna leak. We're keeping it intimate."
"Yeah, right." You sighed. "My mom and dad will bring all these people I barely even know."
"And I'll tell them to leave." Eddie's chest puffed, spine straightening. "I'm serious. They're not on the list, they can fuck off, alright? Goes for Victor and Tana too. Not gonna let them upset you."
The small smile you gave him felt like a standing ovation, a victorious win after a grueling, hard day. Filled his chest with warmth, hand squeezing yours lightly.
"If there's even a shower to kick them out of." Your smile fell just as quickly as it came, shoulders slumping with them. "Can't even pick a theme."
"We'll get it. C'mon," Eddie's calloused fingertips tickled your jaw, lifting your gaze to his. "Don't be like that, sweetheart."
"I can be like that if I want to." Your voice teetered on the edge of a whine, the hinting of a cry. "I can't even make a decision about a baby shower theme. How am I going to make a decision about a baby?"
"Stop that." Eddie shook his head, voice dropping to a soft coo. "Two totally different things, baby. Not even comparable." It was rational, firm but soothed your bundles of nerves. You both had your own worries, fears about parenthood- fear of the unknown that was creeping closer and closer.
"Here," Eddie stood, chains hanging from his jeans jingling with every heavy step towards the shelves on either side of the television, lined with books.
Eddie's fingers danced over the spines, until he found the book. Still new, no cracks in the spine or bent pages, a gift from Farrah when you told her the baby's name. "I saw it at this bookstore in Amsterdam. I had to get it." She'd squealed, giving you the book with a title that your baby shared- Persephone.
Eddie had been more elated than you, reading it front to back more than once. Reading it to you at night, eyes lighting when he'd read something interesting.
"I think I saw somethin' in here." Eddie sank back down beside you on the couch. "Just an idea."
You curled into him, knees tucked under you, head on the soft, worn material of his t-shirt. His cologne, a faint smoky smell of a cigarette- you could feel your body relaxing, intoxicatingly calm.
Calloused fingertips thumbed through the pages until he found the page he was looking for, lips parting in a soft, triumphant hum. "Look," Eddie tilted the page towards you, fingertip tracing the small etching of a flower. "Says there's some history behind this flower and Persephone."
You titled your head, eyes scanning over the text.
"In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, Earth Goddess Gaia produced the yellow petaled Narcissus specifically to enchant Persephone. Now, this early blooming flower is seen as the harbinger of Spring, announcing Persephone's ascent to the surface."
"Interestingly, for all it's association with rebirth and new life with Spring, the bulb is highly toxic?" You frowned, head tilting up towards Eddie.
His lips curled in a wide, excited grin, eyes shining with gleaming pride. "That's fucking cool, isn't it?" Eddie beamed.
Heat blossomed in your chest, dissolving the feeling of frustration and fear, and blooming with something lighter. Soothing and happy, spreading through your chest all the way to your cheeks.
"That is pretty cool." You nodded, scanning the table for a yellow swatch. "We could do like a yellow and white kinda theme, right? That would be neutral in case it did get leaked."
Eddie gave a small eye roll. "It won't get leaked." He muttered, setting the book to the side. "But, yeah, neutral but still bright."
"Make the narcissus the main flower. Maybe add baby's breath and something else..." You muttered, pulling the swatches in front of you. Eddie's chest boasted, watching your small frown on your features, determined instead of frustrated now.
"Do they keep?" You turned to Eddie. "Like, they won't wilt or be gross, right?"
"Buttercups? Nah, they'll keep." Eddie shook his head gently. "Used to pick them for my mom all the time when I was little. She'd keep 'em in a vase and some water, and they'd stay forever."
Your heart swelled, a dull ache behind his words. Even now, married and expecting a baby, Eddie rarely spoke about his mother. Every small detail he'd share, you'd guard protectively in your thoughts, wanting to remember every detail you could.
"Ok," You nodded, a small sigh of relief. "Let's do that then."
You groaned, pushing off the back of the couch, Eddie's hands quickly finding your waist to help you stand. "Will you go get them? I have to pee, and I'll be right back."
Weeks later, Eddie was sure he'd never seen so many shades of yellow- so many flowers in his life. Your family's Malibu home transformed to a bright, floral baby shower of your dreams. Buttercups at every arrangement, starred prominently in bustles of baby's breath and tiny white daisies. All the guests even in various shades of yellow, shining brightly under the California sun.
Eddie managed to sneak a bouquet after the party, when you'd gone to lay down and the staff was cleaning up. He'd handed it to Natasha, sent it with her to get pressed and framed, until it found it's new home in the nursery.
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hairmetal666 · 8 months
Text
Read Part One here
cw: implied child abuse
Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.
They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.
They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.
After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.
What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.
But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.
The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.
Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.
"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.
"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"
Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."
"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.
He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.
"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"
"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."
Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"
"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."
Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.
He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.
"Steve?"
It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.
His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"
"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."
"I'm sorry--"
"--Steve, I--"
They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.
"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."
Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"
Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.
"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."
Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.
"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."
"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.
"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."
He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."
Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."
Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."
Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."
He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"
There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.
Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"
"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.
"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."
Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"
"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."
"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.
"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."
Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08
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navybrat817 · 5 months
Text
Resignation
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You get to know Andy a bit more and put in your notice, but your boss doesn't it take it well. Word Count: Almost 4.4k Warnings: Slow burn, getting to know each other, sugar daddy contraction, tension, flirting, slight insecurities, inner monologue, yelling (apologies to anyone named Sean), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) Graphic talent and thanks: Banner - @sgt-seabass, Divider - @firefly-graphics, Header - yours truly Previous Part: Sign the Dotted Line A/N: Welcome back to my Terms and Conditions AU! Hope you lovelies enjoy. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. ❤️ Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The feeling of floating on cloud nine wasn't something you experienced much in your life. There were high points, of course, but nothing like the elation that filled you as Andy went to make a copy of the contract. It was almost dizzying to think that for the next three quarters of a year, everything was going to be okay. Better than okay.
All thanks to Andy.
Estelle shrieked as she pulled you to your feet. “You're a sugar baby! You're a sugar baby!” she sang, making you laugh as she did a little dance with it.
“I thought you said I was going to be his ‘companion’,” you teased.
She leveled you with a look. “It’s the same thing,” she said, grabbing her bag. “And since your new ‘companion’ is taking you to the diner, why don’t we celebrate tomorrow? You better give me all the details.”
You giggled again at the implication as she squeezed you in a tight hug. If you weren’t happy before, you would've been thanks to her infectious attitude. “You sure don’t need me to head down with you?”
“No, I’m good. You just enjoy the rest of the day,” she said, winking at you and pointing at Andy when he came back. “Have fun and be good to her or I’ll destroy you,” she told him as she walked by with every ounce of confidence you wished you had. “And nice meeting you!”
You half expected there to be an air of awkwardness once the two of you were left alone and were surprised not to feel it at all. It was hard to describe the atmosphere outside of that, but it was something both familiar and new. Maybe that was because Andy continued to put you at ease all while exciting you. The next chapter of your time would be unpredictable in ways that you were looking forward to encountering.
Did he feel the same way?
Andy chuckled after a moment, the sound bringing a smile back to your face as he held up the papers in his hand. “I realize this is probably a bit outdated since everything is done electronically, but I prefer it this way.”
“I don't think it’s outdated,” you assured him as he handed you the contract, his fingers brushing yours. Would you ever get used to the jolt of electricity you felt at his touch? “It’s less of a chance of it getting leaked.”
Though it was you he worried about, you still wanted to protect his reputation.
“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling to himself when you tucked the papers carefully in your folder. “Estelle is serious, isn’t she? She’ll destroy me if I hurt you?”
“Oh, yeah. She isn’t afraid of anyone,” you said as you shifted slightly on your feet. “But I wouldn't worry about her. I don't expect you to hurt me.”
He had to know that.
Andy took a step closer. “She’s a good person to have on your side,” he commented, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the soft look in his eyes. “And I have no intention of hurting you.”
You carefully considered his words with furrowed brows. “Aren't you supposed to say you promise not to hurt me?”
A sad smile touched his lips. “People make promises and usually do so for the right reasons, but they don't always lead to the desired outcome,” he replied as if he peeled back a small layer of himself that still left you with questions. “Take the weeklong silence, for example. I inadvertently hurt you by not reaching out.”
Your cheeks flamed, almost wishing you hadn't mentioned it. “But we talked about that. You didn't mean anything by it.”
“Yes, we did talk about it and I'm glad you told me how you felt. I still caused doubt in your mind though,” he said, his tone gentle and understanding without breaking eye contact. “So while I do want to promise that I’ll never hurt you, I'd rather promise that I have no intention of ever hurting you. Because I don't.”
It took a moment to recall that Andy was married once years ago. While you weren't sure why things ended, did his divorce give him a new perspective on making and keeping promises? Or was it his time as a lawyer?
Whatever the reason you had to respect him for his outlook.
“I appreciate that and I will hold you to that,” you said, falling in step beside him as you headed for the door.
He raised an eyebrow as he held it open for you to go through, allowing you to catch the scent of his cologne again as you walked past. You almost asked what brand it was just so you could get a bottle and spritz your worn in sweatshirts. “Isn't this the part where you promise you have no intention of hurting me?” He questioned.
“I don't think I have the power to hurt you,” you replied, not looking behind you as you headed toward the elevator. You were positive you didn't have that kind of influence nor did you want to hurt him. “But I promise that I have no intention to do so.”
You froze when he leaned in close, his beard ticking your ear and it took all of your inner strength not to turn your head toward him. “Never underestimate how powerful you are, honey,” he whispered, your breath rushing out of your lungs as he stepped back and gestured to the open elevator doors. “Shall we?”
“Sure,” you replied, your voice more breathy than you intended as you stepped inside. You swore you caught him smiling before he joined you.
“I gave my driver the afternoon off, so you’re stuck with me,” he said, pressing the button for the lowest level before the doors slid shut. “I hope that’s okay.”
“I think I can handle you driving,” you teased, happy that the two of you would be alone for part of the evening.
He chuckled before he went quiet again. The silence was comfortable, the soft dings as you passed each floor the only sound in the space. It gave you a moment to admire the man beside you. With his perfect posture, chin held high, and pristine suit, you tried to picture how he looked when he simply relaxed. No eyes on him. No one expecting anything from him.
Maybe he can show me that side of himself sometime soon.
“You’re staring,” he stated.
You smiled, not at all embarrassed that he caught you without looking your way. “I guess it’s because I’m still trying to figure you out.”
That and he was still one of the most handsome men you had ever seen.
But who was Andy Barber beyond his money? Your hero and your second chance at a better life, but what else? What did he do for fun? What did he want out of life, years from now?
Andy swung his head toward you as the elevator came to a stop. “I guess that makes two of us then.”
You found yourself in his car a few minutes later. The Audi still had that “new car” smell to it, the passenger seat sleek and not at all broken in. There wasn’t a spec of dust on the leather interior. Either he didn’t drive it often or he made sure to keep it in next to perfect condition.
Your mind drifted back to Andy’s earlier statement. What exactly was he trying to figure out? If he meant that he was trying to figure you out, he didn’t have to look too deeply. And if he was still trying to figure himself out, that was normal. Searching for your true self was a lifelong journey. And with your newfound sense of freedom at your fingertips, you’d be able to explore your own passions and visualize your ideal self.
But part of you figuring Andy out was getting to know him.
“Why the diner?” You asked, glancing over at him as he concentrated on the road in front of him. “I mean, why go there for coffee or food when you can go anywhere else?”
Maybe upscale places weren’t his usual style. He took you to the Courthouse and looked at ease there, but maybe the diner was an escape. Something different.
“I didn’t grow up with much, but my mom made it work as best as she could,” he admitted, a wistful note in his voice. “We never went hungry and she got creative with some meals so I wouldn’t get tired of eating the same thing. Things like fast food were considered a treat and diners were fine dining.”
You shifted in your seat as you listened, touched by the unexpected vulnerability. “I’ll bet she looked forward to those moments,” you said.
“She did and so did I,” he smiled over at you. “On the rare nights when she was able to save up and take us to a diner, she got a large breakfast or dinner meal for us to split. Best way to stretch her dollar and make sure neither of us felt hungry after.”
You almost reached over to take his hand, but you didn’t want to overstep. He was giving you a piece of himself by revealing a part of his past. That was more than you could ask for.
“I went to diners in college, too, when I was struggling to make ends meet,” he continued, stroking his beard for a moment. “I guess they kind of stuck with me because they reminded me of happier times. They also serve as a reminder to be thankful for what I have. It’s important to remember who I was then and who I am now.”
You let out a breath and closed your eyes as he turned onto the next street, wishing you could thank his mother for raising such an amazing man. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
His hand covered yours unexpectedly when your eyes opened. “Thank you for asking.”
You turned your wrist so your palm met his, your stomach flipping as he held it a little tighter. Opening up was never easy, even if Andy made it sound effortless. You felt closer to him after hearing that important piece of his history. Even the crackle of electricity felt different this time. Instead of a jolt, it was like a steady hum.
Maybe that closeness was the reason you didn’t want to let go when he parked his car in front of the diner.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
You swallowed as you glanced out the window, the flashing lights from the sign of the beckoning for you to go in. “I just can't believe I'm actually going to quit,” you said, clutching your bag with your other hand. “I mean, I do believe it. I have my resignation letter here and everything.”
“Even when you had that bit of doubt that the contract wouldn't go through, you had your letter ready,” he smiled.
You toyed with the strap of your bag as you tried to hide your smile. “I guess I did.”
Preparation never hurt anyone.
“But if you’d rather hold off until tomorrow, I understand. I can even drive you back here if you want to wait,” he offered.
For a moment, you questioned if you should wait. As you bit your lip to fight your smile more and squeezed Andy’s hand, you made your decision. You signed the contract. You were more than ready.
Most of all, you deserved to start your path to a better future.
“I’m ready,” you assured him, reluctantly releasing his hand before you unbuckled your seatbelt. “Are you going in or did you want to wait here?”
“I’ll grab a coffee while I wait,” he said, stopping you as you reached for your door handle. “Allow me.”
You smiled to yourself as he went around to let you out. “Are you always a gentleman?”
“Not always,” he said without missing a beat, winking as you joined him on the sidewalk.
You licked your lips and gazed into his bright blue eyes. Could he see the want in yours? What would it take to make him lose control?
“I’m looking forward to seeing that side of you, Mr. Barber,” you smiled, brushing past him as he inhaled.
But first things first.
The bell rang as you walked inside and you paused to take it all in. Taking Andy’s earlier story to heart, you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget that this diner was part of your story. It not only led him to you, but also kept you from becoming homeless. It was a blessing.
“Hey,” Casey, one of the veteran servers, nodded to you from behind the counter before she looked over your outfit. She seemed to forget all about you as Andy as he walked in behind you. You didn't blame her. “Hi there. Sit anywhere you’d like.”
Andy put his hand on your lower back before he leaned in, your breath hitching slightly. “Good luck, honey,” he whispered, releasing you as Casey gawked in your direction. “I’ll just have a coffee, please,” he said as he took a seat at the counter.
The usual warmth Andy exuded was down a notch. Still friendly, but different. Or maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to feel special. “Is Sean here?”
“Yep. In the office,” Casey answered, pouring Andy a fresh cup of coffee. “Just got here.”
“I’ll be right back,” you told Andy, feeling his eyes on you as you headed through the employee only doors.
Sean had his head buried in some paperwork as he grumbled to himself. With a deep breath, you knocked on the open door. He didn't speak to you much outside of your shifts and hardly praised you for a job well done, but he wasn't a bad boss. You felt bad disturbing him, but it was now or never.
“Hi. May I come in?” You asked as he looked up.
“Yeah. Don't shut the door though. Lock’s broken,” he said, nodding to the chair in front of his desk. “Didn’t expect to see you today. What are you all dressed up for?”
“Oh, I had a meeting,” you answered, which wasn’t a lie. You did meet with Andy. “That’s actually what I needed to talk to you about.”
“A meeting?” He repeated with a frown. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting.”
Your stomach began to twist in knots. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint your boss, even if he wouldn’t be that for much longer. Being a waitress also wasn’t your dream job, but it helped you when you needed it.
Now you have to help yourself.
“Yes, I am. I’m putting in my two weeks notice,” you said quietly, taking the letter out of your bag and placing it on the desk when he stared impassively. “I found another opportunity and I’m going to take it, but I’m happy to take any shifts I can over the next two weeks to help.”
Sean didn’t speak for a moment as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “Two weeks? No, that's not gonna work. We’re short as it is,” he said, shoving the paper away before he leaned back in his chair. Was he serious? “You're gonna have to make it four weeks and then we'll revisit after that to see if we need you to stay on longer.”
“No. I'm giving you two weeks,” you reiterated, your tone unwavering. You wouldn’t let Sean bully you into staying longer, even as guilt crept up since the place was short-staffed. “That's standard and I can't do more than that. I'm sorry.”
“Oh, no. I'm still in charge and you'll give me four weeks. That’s final,” he argued, waving his hand dismissively as you shrank a bit in your chair. “Unless you have anything else to add, I’ll see you next shift.”
You clasped your hands in your lap to keep from shaking. You didn't expect him to react this way. “No, that’s not final. I can't give you four weeks,” you said as calmly as possible, even as you began to feel more uncomfortable. “I would if I could, but I can't. I’m sorry.”
“Can't or won't?” Sean asked, almost making you jump as he raised his voice. “Listen here, you've been a solid employee and I'm not going to lose you in two weeks or four weeks. Do you understand? And if you don't show up you can forget about ever getting a good recommendation from me. Might as well kiss that ‘opportunity’ of yours goodbye.”
Your eyes burned as your mind flashed back to when you were told you were laid off from your previous job, the compassionate tone of your old boss the opposite of the man in front of you. The situations were different, but both made you feel so small. Especially since Sean was essentially threatening your future endeavors. You refused to cry though.
He wouldn’t witness your tears.
You cleared your throat and maintained your resolve. “Two weeks, Sean. That’s it. I said I’m willing to work as many shifts as I can over the next two weeks, but I can't do more than that. I won’t,” you firmly spoke as his eyes widened. “I really don't want to end this on a bad note, please.”
He pushed himself to his feet as he thrust a finger toward your face as if it would somehow make him appear intimidating to tower over you. It wouldn’t sway you. “Listen here, you little-”
“Is everything okay?”
Andy’s voice made both of you jump as you spun in your chair. He stood in the doorway but didn’t look your way. He trained his gaze on your boss, his normally bright eyes narrow and cold.
Your boss must’ve felt malice in that stare since he sat down immediately. “Oh. Mr. Barber,” he said. Did he know him as a regular customer or merely recognize his status? “It’s just an issue with an employee. This doesn’t concern you.”
“There is no issue,” you corrected him.
“Actually, she’s with me, so it does concern me,” Andy spoke as he took a step into the office, staring your boss down with a clenched jaw. The space no longer felt like Sean’s. It was as if Andy owned it along with everything in it. “If you want to raise your voice at someone, I’m right here. You won’t speak to her that way though. Do you understand?”
The deep timbre almost knocked the air out of your lungs, your heart pounding from Andy defending you.
Sean coughed a bit as color filled his cheeks. He should be embarrassed. “I didn’t realize she was with you. I wouldn’t have…” he trailed off.
Your blood simmered. He wouldn’t have raised his voice at you if he knew you were with Andy. Was this a taste of what things were going to be like? How people were going to treat you moving forward?
“Who she’s with shouldn’t matter. Not to mention, your customers and employees could hear you since your door was open,” Andy added, disappointment thickly laced in his voice. “You said she was a solid employee. Why would you speak to her like that?”
Sean’s eyes flickered to you as you waited for an answer. “We’ve been short-staffed and I’ve been stressing over it. That’s no excuse. I'm sorry,” he said to Andy, making your blood go from simmering to boiling. A customer, a powerful man, got the apology, but not you. “Won’t happen again.”
“Maybe remind yourself to be kind to the people who work for you before you raise your voice again. They’re the ones who keep your business running,” Andy said.
With a hang of his head, your boss sighed. “Two weeks, huh?” He asked, the wind completely out of his sails as you nodded. “Okay. Two weeks it is.”
“Thanks,” you whispered before Andy walked over and held out his hand to help you to your feet. Luckily, you didn’t tremble as you took it and gave it a small squeeze. It was nice that he was on your side.
“And one more thing?” Andy added as Sean glanced up. “I’m not the one you should apologize to.”
You held up your other hand when Sean looked your way and opened his mouth. “No. The only reason you’re going to say you’re sorry is because he’s here,” you stated, looking at Andy momentarily. He responded with an encouraging smile. “And I don’t want an empty apology. You can keep it.”
It was nice that Andy wanted an apology on your behalf, but it wouldn't feel believable.
Sean’s face fell, but he didn’t argue. Up until today, he treated you decently. The pressures of running a business were tough, but he had no reason to take it out on you. At the same time, you felt bad for him.
“But thank you, Sean. You gave me a job when I needed one and I won’t forget that,” you added gently. “I’ll see you next shift.”
“Why don't I meet you outside? I just want one more quick word with your boss,” Andy said as Sean audibly swallowed.
Uh-oh.
“Sure,” you said, the knots in your gut unraveling as you left the two of them alone.
You exhaled as you walked back into the dining area, avoiding the gazes from a few of the customers. Your hand shook as you gave Casey a small wave. At least she didn’t look upset with you.
“Quitting, huh? Lucky duck,” she smiled sadly. “You okay? He had no right speaking to you like that.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded, taking another breath. You didn't like anyone raising their voice at you, but you wouldn't allow yourself to dwell on it and didn’t need her to worry. All you could do was make the transition as smooth as possible over the next two weeks. “Didn't expect that kind of reaction. Didn’t expect anyone out here to hear it.”
“Sean’s voice carries and he’s probably just pissed that he’s losing another good one while he’s stuck here,” she guessed, glancing over her shoulder before she added in a whisper, “Oh, and that guy you’re with? He looked furious when he heard him.”
“He did?” You asked, an almost goofy smile appearing on your face.
“Yeah, he did. He had fire in his eyes. Put a bill down, got to his feet, and immediately walked back there. And I wasn’t about to stop him,” she said, her smile widening as she leaned on the counter. “I’d say he’s smitten.”
Your heart skipped a beat. First Estelle, now Casey. Though the latter had no clue about the arrangement. “He’s really something, isn't he?”
“Oh, yeah,” Casey said, straightening up when the employee door swung open.
Andy’s eyes landed on you as he walked through, his eyes soft again as he held out his hand. He also looked pleased with himself. “Ready?”
“Ready,” you said, taking it as you gave Casey a nod. “I’ll see you soon. Hope the rest of your shift is okay.”
“Me, too. See ya,” she said before she went back to assisting other customers.
“You okay?” Andy asked softly as he led you outside.
“I’m fine,” you promised, not wanting him to worry either or get upset. “But what did you say to Sean?”
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he answered, shaking his head. “Listen, I’m sorry if I overstepped by intervening. I just couldn’t let him talk to you like that.”
He easily deflected your question and you decided to let him have that victory for now.
You went in for a hug but kept space for him to breathe. He wrapped his arms tightly around you before you could pull away, your body melting into his. The bustling city around you faded as you focused on the warmth of his firm body. It made you forget all about Sean’s reaction.
“I’m glad you did,” you said, stepping back with a tiny smile. It meant the world that he defended you. “I tried to hold my own.”
“You did. You could've snapped back or walked out, but you didn't. That’s commendable and powerful,” he assured you, his gaze serious. “But I don't care if it’s your boss or a stranger or your best friend, I’m not about to let someone take their frustrations out on you.”
Warmth settled in your chest. You learned something else about Andy today: He truly wouldn't tolerate anyone disrespecting you. He continued to prove that he was a man of his word.
You also experienced firsthand how things worked in his world, how people would bend toward his will. If it was a test, you wouldn’t say you failed since you stood up for yourself. It wouldn’t always be that easy. Whether someone questioned your motives or place with Andy or not, you had to learn to grow a thick skin. Not just for your own benefit, but Andy’s, too.
He needed someone strong by his side.
“Thank you, Andy.”
“And, listen, if you don’t want to work those shifts or if he gives you a hard time-”
“I’ll be fine,” you promised. You doubted Sean would make it a hostile work environment, but you could handle it if there were any issues. “But I think I’d like to go home now.”
Andy blinked and gave you a single nod. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
Is he disappointed at the thought of me ending the day right now?
You smiled as you tugged him in the direction of his car. “I’d also like you to see my place,” you said, his eyebrows shooting up. It surprised you that you offered, too. “It isn't much, but it’s comfortable. Maybe we can order takeout?”
It wasn’t exactly the ideal way to celebrate, but he shared a piece of himself on the drive over. The least you could do was let him see your apartment. And who knew where the evening would take you?
“Only if you’ll let me pay,” he smiled.
“You're not going to let me pay for anything, are you?” You smiled back.
“Not if I can help it,” he replied, opening the car door. “Let's get you home, honey.”
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We all need a man like Andy. And what's going to happen at the apartment? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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modernelites-if · 1 year
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Modern Elites is a 18+ raunchy slice-of-life IF that follows you, a young royal, navigating the world of the obscenely rich and immensely famous while trying to keep your elite, royal family together in the midst of drama and tabloids.
Setting: modern times, fictional tiny country of Selusa, New York, Paris and more.
Genre: slice-of-life, drama, romance
Celebrity. Pop Culture Icon. Heir.
Royal.
As the heir to the Selusan throne, you're known by many names. Growing under the spotlight hasn't been easy, especially since it seems the vultures all want a piece of your elusive family. Country clubs, yachts, parties, private jets, elite schools, you've had it all.
But is there something missing?
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Customize your heir from appearance to gender identity to personality. Dictate what kind of person they are: rebellious, dutiful. Do they care about the royal line or are parties more on their mind? Will you keep a squeaky clean rep or ruin the family name?
Customize Salusa and cater the country to your taste.
Dictate what kind of leader you want to be, and how others percieve you.
Experience the life of the hidden .01% and the drama of the ultra wealthy.
Engage in fiery, dramatic romances that could either uplift or ruin you and your family.
and more to come.
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THE ADVISOR
Imogen/Ian Lancaster [f/m]- your family's advisor and publicist. I has cleaned up every mess, every leak, every scandal and at this point, there are no secrets between your family and them. Coming from a well-off family themselves, they know exactly how this world works...and they navigate it with a steel will and a cold, detached demeanor. I has you handled like an adult with a child, trying (and probably failing) to keep you in line. Anything you do will go through them, so it's better to think twice.
THE BETROTHED
Everett/Eva St. Clare [m/f] - the eldest of one of the most influential businessmen on your side of the world, black sheep, and a source of gossip in polite society, there have been talks of a betrothal between you two since the partnership started. Because of that, you two are forced into a fake romance for the cameras. E is an arrogant and brash casanova, sex-obsessed, and is proudly noncommital with string of rumors that follow them like their own entourage. Unfortunately for you, E's exploits can damage the carefully constructed facade you two have built. Of course, E doesn't give a damn.
THE REBEL
Vince/Vivian De Grasso [m/f] - (secretly) fresh out of jail and newly reformed (not) V's politician of a mother has asked in a favor from your family: to reform them and stifle their rebellious ways by adding them to your security detail. Your father having a soft spot for the kid, brings them in as one of your guards. Hopefully V keeps in line...or not.
THE COMMONER
Cordelia/Corden Bowen [f/m]- an employee at the country club you frequent, someone less polite would call them a 'nobody.' C has a bit of an attitude, but that's expected from someone who is used to getting berated by rich people all day. There's not much else to say about them...or maybe there is?
THE JOURNALIST
Romi Marshall [m/f]- a famed journalist with contempt for royalty and elitism. Their newsletters frequently slam you and your family's every move, and they don't like you one bit. You can confidently say they're your biggest hater.
THE ROYAL BEST FRIEND
Oliver/Olivia Ames-Astor [m/f]- a fellow prince/princess from another country and your best friend, who is still hung up on their ex. Forced to betroth someone else, O has so many problems you can hardly sort through them. Still, they're kind and as polite as you'd expect from a person who has had etiquette lessons drilled into them since childhood. They're also your best friend, so there's that.
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adventuringblind · 3 months
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Don't Leave Us
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: With the mass amount of online hate and a relationship that's not public, it all gets too much.
Warnings: graphic depictions of self-harm, graphic depictions of suicide
Notes: I hope you're doing okay, Nonny! Maybe this will help you like it does me :)
side note: I am not above begging for interaction. Fill my inbox with feral driver thoughts! Interact with my posts! It feeds my praise kink and makes me giggle and kick my feet 🥰
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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It's not like the toxicity of social media is a new thing. She's always known that it could happen. She just wasn't expecting it to be so... much.
Her relationship with Max and Charles isn't out for the public. There are dangers that come with opening that up for everyone to get a glimpse of. Reporters waiting to make snide remarks. Fans that want to bash on the drivers they dislike.
Plus, she's not famous. People don't notice her. At least - they didn't until recently.
Some WAG account had managed to get photos of her with either Max or Charles. Not the three of them together. Speculative fans determined she must be playing both of them.
Not all of them, some people defend her. Those comments make her cry out of relief that at least someone isn't trying to tear her down.
She doesn't bring it up to either of the boys. They have enough on their plates as is. Stress and sickness become her new best excuses to not go out in public.
Sure, she's isolating herself and not talking to anyone. Carmen and Lily keep trying. She's just not ready to show her face.
Nothing is sacred anymore. The rumors are too much. Even avoiding all social media isn't enough. She can't even leave her house without someone trying to discreetly take her photo.
Her skin burns with attention every time she steps out the door. She can't eat knowing people are always looking at her. She can't even go to the shop to get groceries or to her mailbox.
It gets worse by the day. Soon enough, someone figures out where she lives. Knowing she has a stalker makes every ounce of security she once had vanish.
It's miserable seeing her information leaked out for everyone to see. Privacy is now a luxury of the past. It's enough to send her spiraling.
When her safety is called into question, Max and Charles bring her to Monaco. They are willing to risk it for her. Their attempt at giving her some piece of mind by staying in the same apartment only makes her thoughts darker.
She's the reason there is so much negative publicity. The sharks are circling them, just waiting for one wrong move. Is she ready to be the catalyst for her lovers' downfall?
The thought sends her stomach up her throat. The thoughts swirl around her head, paralyzing her body into a perpetual state of fear. Stuck in a luxurious Monaco penthouse. Because people being toxic and stalking her is such a horrible problem to have. She should just suck it up; pretend everything is fine.
So then, why is it so hard? Why can't she just be alright?
One week. A plan in her head and a smile plastered on her face. The boys haven't asked about it. Their concern shows in the facial expressions, but they don't push. Maybe it would be better if they did. Send her already crumbling walls to the ground.
She deep cleans on Monday. She does her best to make sure the apartment isn't in disarray, that her own things are packed away, so they won't have much to deal with. The contrasting red and blue of Max and Charles' clothes are the only things left in the closet when she's done.
Speculations start again on Tuesday. Max and Charles spend all day in some PR meeting about it. It gives her time to sort out her affairs without them hearing her. She cooks them dinner to help ease the frustrations. Their teams don't want them to come out, but they do.
Wednesday, they leave to their next destination. She doesn't leave the hotel room despite the concerns of others. Carmen and Lily come around at some point. They eat in with her and kick out the boys. It feels normal for the first time in months. She almost breaks and tells them.
Thursday is media day. She feels for both boys as they get asked invasive questions about their love life. They look stressed. She gets hugged a little tighter that night. It calms the thoughts, but it's not enough. They hurt more every day. She's just wants it to stop.
Practice on Friday goes well for both. Max and Charles are in better spirits. She drags herself out to eat with them. the boys don't care who sees. She does. The anxiety nearly suffocates her. eyes crawling over her skin. Please, make it stop.
Saturday is a wreck. The qualifying is difficult for both her partners. Their relationship status is once again coming under fire. The speculating is becoming extreme, enough for the whispering of the paddock to become deafening to her ears. She spends her time hiding away, writing her last thoughts in messy scrawl.
Sunday, they turn the weekend around. The podium has always suited them. Smiling for everyone to see and dousing each other in champagne. She smiles too, even though it hurts.
They fly back to Monaco that night. Conversation turns to going public despite team wishes. They are willing to risk it for her. She can't bring herself to say yes. They worked hard to live their dreams; she won't ruin it for them.
Monday comes around again. The notes are laying out on the table. The boys are with their friends, some kind of brunch get together.
She leaves the bathroom door unlocked.
The bath filled, her clothes still on. Her thoughts finally still. Tears streak down her face.
The water is cold.
Then it's red.
~~~~~
"I worry about leaving her alone." Charles pulls the car back into its spot.
"Well, if we brough her along it wouldn't be much of a surprise, yes?" Max checks his watch again. "Plus, what could she have done in the fifteen minutes we were gone?"
They haul the ridiculous number of snacks to the front door. They decided last week they would see if they could coax the female out of her depressive state, just for a little while. Maybe get her to confide in them. If not, then at the very least a therapist.
The distance is damn near suffocating. She's so close physically, yet so far away mentally. Always staring at the walls with a distant look in her eyes.
The apartment is eerily quiet when they step inside. The kind that Charles despises after living in a chaotic house with two brothers and three busy schedules his Maman had to keep track of.
He drops the bags and peers around the entry way. Then searches the corridors until he finds one of the bathroom doors closed.
Charles knocks on the door but receives no response. "Cheri? Are you not feeling well?"
Charles almost dives out of the way when Max comes barreling down the hallway. The Dutch tries the doorknob, heavy breathing filling the odd silence.
Charles pales at the sight revealed to him. Paralyzed that this horrific scene could even be a possibility. Is he dreaming? He has to be - there isn't any way for this to be real... right?
"Charles!-" the Monegasque is dragged from his thoughts. Real or not, Max needs his help. Scratch that - she needs his help. "- Get an ambulance!"
Charles fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call. Max is desperate trying to stop the bleeding from the vertical slit traveling her forearm. "Is she...?" He can't finish the thought. Heart being through his chest at the possible answer.
"Pules is there but faint." Max sounds like he's desperately trying to hold back his tears. His mind working desperately to keep her alive.
Charles must space out. He doesn't remember opening the door or watching her be carried out by the swift paramedics. The car ride doesn't register, not until they are already in the waiting room.
Max hands him her notes. The paragraphs she wrote to them. A final goodbye in messy scrawl, but the tails of her letters still curled.
"She did it for us, Charlie, because she thought she was hurting us."
They both break down in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Charles violently sobbing. Neither of them respond to their messages. Phones buzzing with calls that go to voice-mail.
A doctor comes calling her name. Charles is only half listening. Specifically looking for either a confirmation of death or the relief of hearing that she's okay. Max seems to be paying attention. His shoulders sag, and there is a soft look on his face when they are left to their own devices.
"She's alive, Charlie."
He erupts until tears once more.
~~~~~
Everything hurts. Her thoughts are fuzzy. There is something soft beneath her.
The white ceiling is paired with the burning smell of alcohol. A sterile environment. Meaning-
Fuck. How did it go so wrong? How had they managed to keep her alive?
The beeping on the heart monitor picks up. A sign that she's definitely alive and in a hospital.
Her attempts at moving are futile. There is too much pain and exhaustion to do so. A pulsing behind her ears drowns out the thumping of her heart.
"Rest now, amour."
It takes a single stroke of Charles' fingers on her cheek to make her entire facade shatter into nothing.
She's mumbling incoherent words. It's a string of apologies, rants of anger and embarrassment, and confusion at why they are even here with her. They are continually reassuring her. They coo into her ear how they are so glad she's alive. That she doesn't have to fight whatever battle through hell this is alone.
Recovery is difficult. They have to put her on a suicide watch, but Max and Charles somehow manage to keep her out of the psychward. Mostly because they want to be with her at all hours of the day.
They miss a singular race for her. Then drag her to the next. Part of the deal they had made was that they won't sacrifice their careers for her.
They negotiated with the teams. Managed to wriggle around their soft spots and get them to approve going public. Max and Charles want to openly defend her. No more public executions. They'er pulling her out of the shark infested waters that is the media.
It's slow. People ask about it sometimes; why Charles and Max had missed that race. None of them give an answer. They aren't obligated to.
"Why fight for me?" She asks. a year after the events.
"Because chéri, we love you enough to help you carry the burden."
"Honestly liefste, we fight for what we believe in. We believe in you and the love you have for us."
"Maybe it's selfish, but we want to share that with you. Keep you here with us to go on adventures and explore the different paths life offers."
"So don't leave us yet. You are worth every sacrifice."
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saerayofsunshine · 6 months
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Tease me, baby
Summary: Gojo Satoru could be a complete tease, outside the bedroom and inside the bedroom. Sometimes, you played along with his antics, because why not? The reward would be sweet, or so he promised. But sometimes, it was just too much, leaving you hanging on the bridge of madness, leaving you with nothing but a flame of desire within you, a flame that only he could put out. Relationship: Gojo Satoru/Reader Rating: E Words: 2.6K Content Warning: consensual sex, edging, unprotected sex (don't be silly, protect the willie), breeding, orgasm denial (?), pet names (babygirl, baby, darling), fingering, etc. (let me know if I forgot something). Note: This is my first time writing smut, but I've caught up to the manga and man, I just had to do something with myself. This is pure porn with no plot at all, so ehe. Hopefully I haven't missed any typos or grammar. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated! On the other hand, writing this has been an experience because how the fuck do write people long smut? How do they put words together and make it sexy at the same time? Like damn.
cross-posted on ao3
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You had heard of the name Gojo Satoru way before the start of high school. How could you not? Every sorcerer had heard of that name at least once: the wielder of six eyes, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, the honored one... his name brought a sense of dread to his enemies while awakening feelings of admiration within his comrades.
You had heard plenty of him but didn't encounter him until the start of jujutsu high, where you had the unfortunate (or fortunate?) chance of being his precious kohai.
Up to that point, you had heard about how playful, annoying, and teasing Gojo Satoru could be, but it was only after meeting him that you realized how much of a playful, annoying, and teasing bastard he could really be.
It had all started in high school. You hadn't questioned his antics during that time, simply letting him touch you whenever the opportunity called for it. Whether that be a slight brush of your hands as you passed something to him, or him brushing something across your shoulders, afterwards playing with your hair as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Remembering such memories never failed to bring a smile onto your face.
Gojo Satoru had always been a tease, during his youth and his adolescence. Normally, you played along his little games, more than eager to tease him back and make him crack.
What had started with innocent touches during your youth had turned into seducing prods, demanding more, wanting more, seeking more out of your body. You were all too eager to deliver, but sometimes, sometimes, even you couldn’t keep up with his enthusiasm.
You loved the feel of his large hands groping your tits, squeezing, pulling, brushing against your hard nipples, before teasing them with that wicked tongue of his; loved to feel his digits on your clit, gently caressing and petting the little bud nonstop, as if he wasn’t preparing to make you scream afterwards. With a soft growl of his, he would reassure you every time you cried out for him, desperately asking him to just put it in, please, and you loved it even more when he delivered, his long fingers finally sliding home within your pussy, fingering the shit out of you and granting you that sweet release you had been longing from him.
You loved him and his little game of teasing, but sometimes, you hated him for this exact reason.
You hated him for making you crave him so much, for putting you through hell, just to get a taste of his fingers, his mouth, his cock. Anything he was willing to give, you would gladly accept.
It didn’t matter whether it was his fingers, his mouth or his cock, he would patiently wait, he would listen, as if you weren’t trashing within his hold, moaning, practically crying his name with every breath. “Satoru, ah, Satoru… please.”
Satoru was too good at ignoring his own desire, his cock practically leaking, begging to be touched, but he wouldn’t have it. Without you saying the words, at least. He adored the expression on your face whenever you felt desperate, the breathless sighs leaving your parted lips, along your twitching thighs that rose into his hand, sucking and clenching around his fingers, and the filthy sound your cunt made with every push and pull… it was all too addicting.
Even if he tried, Satoru couldn’t, wouldn’t stop, no matter how much you begged for mercy.
“Relax, I got you,” he murmured, leaning over your sweaty body, kissing you on the lips, effectively cutting of the moans. Their tongue danced around each other, moaning against each other’s mouth as Satoru massaged your right tit as his other hand maintained a fast pace within your poor cunt, feeling it twitch with every push and pull, brushing against that spot that had you gush against his digits. Desperate for more, you ache more into his palm, in hopes of him acknowledging your neglected clit.
Though, you knew that he wouldn’t show you any mercy, that bastard. The pleasure was just too much.
Sometimes, he was too much for you.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
Kissing your red cheeks and trailing kisses across your neck, Satoru kept the fast pace of his fingers, curling his fingers slightly up, brushing against that spongy spot once again, leaving you a moaning, twitching mess beneath him.
Hands grasping his hair, you held on tightly as he left soft pecks across your neck and shoulder blades.
“Ssh, it’s okay babygirl.” He chuckled at the whine that escaped you when he pulled his fingers out, switching his attention to the swollen bud, gently petting your clit before slapping it, before gently petting it once again. He stuffed you full of his fingers once again, continuing his fast pace within you. “Just take it like this. I know you can.”
Cocky little bastard. How can he be this collected when you felt his cock twitch against your thigh whenever you grinded on him? It was hard, tip swollen an angry red and leaking precum from all the grinding, but here he was, acting as if this wasn’t affecting him in the slightest, as if he wasn’t yearning to be inside you.
A long sigh left your lips as you clenched on his fingers that were assaulting your drenched pussy, blushing at the wet sounds it created. It would have been embarrassing any other day, the way you were soaking his palm, but today, you couldn’t care any less.
“Fuck… please, please give it to me.”
He growled underneath his breath, a crazed look on his face, smirking as he witnessed you desperately trashing within his hold. “Just tell me what you want, and I will give it to you,” he promised, placing loving kisses against your reddened cheeks. “You just have to say what you want, darling. Use your words. You can do that much, right? I haven’t fucked you dumb, right?” He asked, slowly pulling his fingers out to gently massage your clit, slapping it occasionally, chuckling as moans left your mouth. “What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want, I’m not a mind reader, baby.”
“Satoru…” you drawled out, meeting each other’s gaze. Satoru didn’t look away from you, daring you to back out, to not voice out your wants. You bit your lip, the uncomfortable ache within you making it unable to stand still. “Please, make me come. I want to come so badly. Please.”
That was all he needed to hear. If there was something that Satoru loved, it was you desperately begging him to make you come. He was sure, this feeling would never leave him; there would never be a day where Satoru didn’t want to hear you cry out of pleasure, begging for him.
You were his needy little girl, all spread open, wet, twitching and ready just for him.
Satoru loved to see you desperate, desperate for a kiss, desperate for his fingers, desperate for his cock.
He loved teasing you, making you beg, wrecking you, before starting the process all over again.
"There you go. Was that so hard to admit?" His cockiness and the smug smile on his face would have annoyed you any other day, but today, you let it slide, focusing on the way he played with your clit, prepping you up for what was about to come. "You know I will give it to you. All you have do is be a good girl and ask."
Placing a hand on your stomach, Satoru began his unforgiving assault with his other hand, and fuck, if it wasn’t what you needed. His fingers expertly bully your cunt, pulling and pushing, brushing over your sensitive spots within you, and you trashed, and trashed, and trashed. His hand on your stomach held you down, and you could do nothing but shake like a leaf underneath his demonstrations.
He leaned over you body when you grasped his shoulder, scratching his back as you bucked against his hand, and fuck, was it fucking hot. Quiet murmurs of his name and repeated, dragged ‘yes’ were the only thing that left your lips, encouraging Satoru to give you more, more and more.
“C’mon baby, you’re close, aren’t you?” Tugging at your aching bud, he massaged it quickly, up and down, left and right, before repeating the process, bright eyes never leaving your teary gaze. “Come on my fingers, baby. Give it to me.”
“Fuck-Satoru… I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!”
You felt as if you were spiraling, finally having found the exit of a labyrinth. You could practically feel the edge, just a little more, and you were sure you would tip over.
That would be the case, if it wasn’t for Satoru pulling out of your pussy after hearing those words, grasping your thighs as you struggled against hold, having been left an empty, unsatisfied, and twitching mess.
"You piece of fucking shi-"
His lips met yours, interrupting the string of profanities, smiling against your mouth and grinding his hips against yours, cock laying heavy against your pussy, its wetness spreading across his length. “I’m sorry, baby. Need you to come on my cock instead, missed you so damn much,” he growled, adjusting himself between your spread legs, his knees placed against your tights, gazing at the sinful treasure presented in front of him.
Messy hair, swollen and puffy lips due to all the kissing, sweat covering every inch of your body, it was a view to behold, and it was all his to defile.
Adjusting himself so that the tip of his length grazed your sensitive clit, he teased you by tracing his tip over your bud and netherlips, brushing back and forth, occasionally tapping the swollen button, ignoring and shushing the little whines that escaped you. “Hold on tight, baby. You not going anywhere without coming on my cock.”
You had plenty of sex with Satoru, he was practically insatiable. Though, no matter how many times you had intercourse, it never lost its magic, each time different than the other, but always leaving you satisfied, sated, and with a delicious ache between your legs.  
Even now, prepped and dripping, he was big enough to make you breath hitch as he pressed into you inch by inch, gauging your reaction, observing whether it was okay to continue. You both groaned as his cock slid home, feeling him twitch inside you, deliciously dragging his length within your cunt.
You bit your lip. He filled you up too good, and you could do nothing but tighten around him.
Satoru’s thumb brushed against your lower lip, releasing it from your bite before lovingly caressing your face. You would have thought the gesture as romantic and sweet, if it weren’t for the fact that he was balls deep and rock hard within you. Stroking your chest, playing with your nipples, he playfully swirled his hips against yours, smirking as you rotated your own hips as well, before settling his hands on your waits, experimentally thrusting his cock into you.
"Don't try to stifle your moans. I want to hear you scream my name."
Satoru knew how to work his fingers against you, inside you; whether to be slow, teasing you with the barest of touches or firm, so that his digits could prod just the right places that had you groaning, and he definitely knew how to work his hips against your own, fervently pounding himself inside without abandon, clutching onto your waist, as if it was the only thing grounding him down to earth, and you could do nothing but cry out and take it, take it, take it.
Satoru was a beautiful man, always has been, but at that moment, above and inside you, he looked ethereal. With his white hair tousled, covering his beautiful eyes, gazing down at you, admiring the way your pussy clenched onto him as he repeatedly pounded in you, you were reminded of a starved beast, a predator ready to devour his little prey that laid baren in front of him.
You wouldn't have it any other way.
"You like that, baby?" He punctuated his words with a swirl of his hips that had you moaning loudly, his cock dragging across your walls beautifully, scratching that itch within you. "You look so fucking hot," he growled, before thrusting hard, admiring the way your breast bounce with every thrust. "You gonna make me come so hard, you would like that, wouldn't you? Want me to come inside you, fill up your empty pussy, baby?"
You bite your lip, gripping his wrist desperately, clenching and unclenching uncontrollably as his assault continued, anchoring yourself against his hand. Just the image of him coming inside you had you frenzied, so much so that you could only moan out loudly, holding onto him:
"Yes, fuck, please, yes. I want it so bad. Please, come inside of me, Satoru!"
Groaning at those words, he pounded away into you, and with every drag, you tightened around him, feeling him twitch, feeling as if you were ready to burst, but desperately trying to hold back your fast approaching orgasm. He was so close, you could feel it, and you wanted to feel him become undone within you, with you, filling your pussy up as you finally let go. Clutching his haunches, you rhythmically met his thrust, wordlessly encouraging him to fuck you faster, harder.
Gradually, his controlled thrusts turned sloppy, a telltale sign of his approaching orgasm. You grasped his shoulder, making him bent down so that you could mutter against his lips ‘Come with me, Satoru,’ before kissing him, tongues dancing and hips bucking wildly against each other as you hold onto him tightly.
Satoru knew how to wind you up, whether that be with his teasing antics or without, but the outcome always had you reeling, spasming mess against him, desperate to catch your breath as you finally let go of the tight coil within you. Satoru, on the other hand, wouldn’t let up, fucking you through your orgasm as he too finally tipped over the edge, groaning uncontrollably and grinding against your clit, fucking his load into you. The feeling of it had you smiling against his mouth, content and sated for the time being, and you absentmindedly massaged his neck, tugging at his hair as Satoru finished within you, thrusting slowly against you for the last time before stilling within you.
Without a hurry in the world, he kissed you, gently and sweetly, trailing pecks all over your cheeks and jaw, before ultimately placing a short peck on your lips once last time.
And with that, he straightened his posture, slowly pulling out of you with a breathless sigh, smirking in perverse satisfaction as cum drippled down your slit. The view had him throbbing uncomfortably. Therefore, he nudged your sensitive clit with his cock, toying with it, all the while ignoring the high-pitched whines of protest, leisurely smearing your wetness across your inner thighs, before carefully sliding his tip into you once again, groaning as he did so.
You haven't known how much of a tease Gojo Satoru could be, but with time, you had learned that his playful nature was, in fact, very much present during bedroom activities. You could say that you hated him for it, but the promise of sweet release after an endless amount of teasing always had you aroused, and Satoru was someone who kept his promise.
And till now, he always made good of his promises, so that at the end of the day, you let him have his victory price.
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landograndprix · 7 months
Text
「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」
part iv
✧.* though you're still struggling with yourself and your relationship with lando, life is good or at least, that's what you think.
✧.* I like when reader suffers, like yes babes, cry a bit more 🥰 Toxic friends once again? Uh, yes please 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️
✧.* prev part - next part
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landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, riabish and 654,897 others
landonorris 🧡
view all 1,678 comments
byelandooo well that's one way to hard launch lmfao
landitosainz great way to ruin a team 💀🤮
cecilemoulin wrong account you gremlin
norrisbae such a lando thing to do 😭
norry4 you're telling me lando's got a private insta too? what y'all hiding for us? 👀
maxfewtrell don't think this was meant to be posted here but where's the credit for the pictures mate?
johnnyp lucky son of a bitch
milouberger muppets 🧡
norrizz no but this is exactly how I imagined this relationship to go, just a bunch of idiots together 😭
carlandooo muppet and his crack head 🥰
mrsnorris 🤮
charlos16 man's really said hard launch
smoothoperatorr this is wrong on so many levels 🤡
carlossainz55 happy for you guys!
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y/nusername posted to their story
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mclaren
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liked by landonorris, y/nusername and 187,672 others
mclaren first race of the season is done! 🏁 we can confirm..it was a good weekend!
tagged: landonorris, y/nusername
view all 520 comments
teammclaren we are so back baby!
freddiem y/n would've had pole if Milou didn't impend her like crazy
julieeeexo milou was not having y/n this weekend..first the impending, then nearly pushing her off the track during the race..
norrizz nah she was aggressive! We could've had a double podium!
norrislando p2 and p4 baby!!
matty28 the team bringing mclaren back to the front 👏
carlitonorris what's up with milou? Is she jealous because lando's and y/n's relationship seems to work out perfectly and hers and charles' didn't? 💀
chilisainz exactly what I was thinking 🤡
y/nloveee we could've had both of them on the podium but p4 for the babe is amazing too! 🧡
julianklein she's washed up, it's time for her to retire. outperformed by her teammate.
y/nloveee so everyone who's outperformed by their teammate today is washed up? Okay, cool, can't wait to see half the grid retire next week 🤡
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gossipf1
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liked by 672 others
gossipf1 we didn't have to wait long for the proof to be posted, these pictures of Carlos and y/n have been circulating the internet since last night. Who shared the pictures is unknown.
view all 315 comments
chilisainz considering these are very personal pictures and not random paparazzi shots, I'm willing to bet money on one of their friends leaking them..won't be the first time y/n gets screwed over like that..
carlandooo no because i think you're right 😔
charlessainz no but why are they actually giving?
leclerc_16 but why do they look so cute together? 👀
norrismax I can't be the only one finding this extremely uncomfortable..why would someone leak these pictures..you can't trust anybody anymore..
jamoniconico can't she just leave these drivers alone? 🤨
joeyy000 these men really out here pulling the baddest girl on the grid..
carlito55 see I prefer this duo over whatever lando and y/n is..
verstappencharles yes!!!!
maxmaxmax imagine being lando and seeing this and reading people prefer Carlos over you 😔
brocadesmerc why does she feel the need to date every single driver on the grid? Who's next, Charles? Esteban?
hammertime considering her ex Thomas is spanish too, I'd guess she's got a type and it's not french 😭
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milouberger posted to their story
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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @f1lover55
Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong
Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10
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mysicklove · 11 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒
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Paring: Sub! Akaza X Dom! Gn! Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: Threatening, heavy power dynamics, edging, pillow throwing lol, growling, teeth baring, heavy praise and petting, soft dom reader and confused akaza
A/N: This was a blurb, and then a drabble, and then it hit 1k words and I turned it into a fic. Honestly, mostly akaza trying to manage power dynamics, not alot of smut.
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He can’t do it anymore. He physically can’t. It’s even taking a mental toll on him.
How has he let a mere human like you take control over his body?
He has been edged for thirty minutes now. It was a long time for most people, but to him it felt like hours. He has been biting his tongue to hold back threats.
Akaza knows he likes being submissive to you, he knows for complete sure he does. He was the one to ask you to take the lead. Sure it came off as a complaint of a demon commanding a human, but you knew what he meant. He hated that you knew. It made him feel weak.
But in these moments where you deny him pleasure, he hates being submissive. He wants it all, every touch, graze, or caress. How could you deny it to him when he was the one who originally commanded you?
But you don't seem to care. You leave him hanging dry, with no fear of consequences. He could kill you in a heartbeat, but still, you torment him.
Akaza lunges for your hand when you begin to pull away from his leaking cock. Second time this has happened and he cannot be denied an orgasm any longer. He has played your good pet for too long.
He bares his teeth at you, the needle-sharp canines exposed in all their might. His face scrunches up in a glare and he can feel the rumbling of a growl in the back of his throat.
You watch as he squeezes your wrist and begins to pull it back to his now leaking dick. “Touch me.” He hisses and you raise your eyebrows at the tone.
Your hand goes limp in his hold and he tries to rub himself on it, the growls keep picking up in volume at your defiance.
He meets your stare, ready to threaten you some more, but when he sees you innocently blinking up at him, he knows how he is doing this is wrong. He knows that having a tantrum will not get him anywhere.
You always have those eyes when he acts out. When he doesn't get his way. You stare at him like you looking at a small child. It was humiliating.
You only did it when he plays the demon card on you. When he uses the strength of his body to overpower you. When he threatens to kill you.
It’s like you know he would never hurt you, you know that after all of this, he is still sits in the palm of your hand ready to be manipulated for your every need.
In the beginning it made him even more angry. He would yell and scream all the while you would sit there and take it, petting his hair and rubbing his body like you were coaxing a child to calm down. It would take him hours to let down his walls. He was afraid to be seen as weak to a human.
But now almost instantly he seems to relax. Sees those eyes and knows that no matter what he says or does you’ll always be there to bring him down. He enjoys that you make him feel small. It was sickening.
So, he drops your hand with much hesitance. You sit and wait patiently through it all, blinking up at him with such innocence eyes when he knows that you know how much power he has over him.
Just for one last release he grabs the pillow next to him and chucks it at the door. It lands with a small thud and he heaves, baring his teeth at the door while you follow the pillow with a small hum.
You bring your hand up to the top of his head and his eyes snap to you, his canines still exposed. “That’s it, let it all out.” You coo, petting his hair, and he stares in silence. His chest rises and falls in deep breathes, and his cock still pulsates against his stomach.
“Are you with me?” You whisper, tracing the lines on his face.
He begins to relax his face, his breathing goes back to normal and he gulps at you, looking away from those eyes. “Sorry.” He mumbles, clenching his fists in embarrassment. He knows you are kinder when he is polite, he has to suck up his pride.
The cooing picks up again and he feels his face burn. “That’s alright. Look how much better you are doing. Aren’t you being such a good boy, Akaza?” Your hand comes back to his cock and he jumps. You rub the tip and he has to grit his teeth to hold back a moan. “Say it, Akaza.”
Will you let him cum now? He didn’t freak out this time and he apologized. If he says what you want him to say will you finally touch him?
He can’t even look at you in these moments. “I’m a good boy…I want—Will you let me cum? Please.” He whispers so silently that you almost missed it. His face flushes under the marks and he grabs at the sheets beneath him. He listens to the satisfying tear of the fabric.
You smile ecstatically and he flinches, still getting used to the praise. “Just three more. Can you withstand it three more times? For me, baby?”
Another humiliating nickname. If anyone knew that he let you call him this he would have to kill them.
But he wasn’t focused on the nickname. He feels your hand drawing back. He can’t do it three more times. He is bound to get frustrated and yell or break something, accidentally break you. He can't help it. It hurts.
But he can’t seem to find the words for his complains, so he does something for the first time since he met you. He whimpers.
The sound makes his widen eyes snap back to you, hoping you didn’t catch it, but with that grin on your face he knows you did. He tries to pretend it didn't happen for the sake of his pride.
Your hand is back on his cock in an instant.
After the first two denials he begins to sweat, his heart hammers in his chest and he is clenching the sheets with eyes screwed shut. He feels the urge to yell, to command you to touch him, but he holds back. For both your sake and his own. His tongue is covered in bite marks from his very own teeth.
The third denial was the roughest by far. You tricked him, saying stuff like, "Now I'll let you cum." and "It's going to feel so good, right love?" Which made him believe that you missed counted. He didn't say anything, he wanted to let you think this was the third one. He wanted his high desperately.
You pull away at the last second and he wants to yell, scream, do something, but instead he cries in pure frustration. Globs of tears drip down his face and he continues to tear through the sheets as if they were nothing but paper.
"Please!" He begs for the first time tonight. His body racks with the sobs and he leans forward to lean onto your chest as if he really was a small child. His whole cock is covered in his pre cum. It makes him feel sticky and gross. He wants you to make it stop.
You run your fingers through his buzzed hair and murmur sweet nothings into his ear. Finally, you give in, bringing your hand down and begin to set the pace once again. He lets out his moans and whines now, too sensitive and overstimulated not to. His mind is disoriented from the praise dripping out of your mouth like honey.
It only takes him five pumps for him to cum. His back arches and he has to quickly remove his hands from your body so he doesn't accidentally dig them into your skin. He doesn't moan, instead, it comes out as long shaky gasps and rapid muscle contractions. White liquid lands on his chest and your leg.
When he comes down from his high, he doesn't speak. He sits and listens to your praise, no longer feeling embarrassed about it. Instead, basking in the warmth of your words that makes him feel lightheaded.
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