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#you know i'm not gonna say your name (who shall not be named)
gojorgeous · 4 months
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"sure thing"
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pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k
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“Who?!” 
No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 
“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.
“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 
“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 
You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 
Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I��m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 
“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 
“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 
He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 
Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 
He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”
You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 
Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 
“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 
Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 
“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 
“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 
~
It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 
You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 
You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.
It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 
You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 
You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 
You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.
You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 
The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.
The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 
You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.
You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 
You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 
You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 
“Hey, Dean,” you call.
He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 
“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 
Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 
“Yeah. Long day at work.” 
A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 
You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 
You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 
“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 
Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 
You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 
His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 
You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”
There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 
You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 
You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 
The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.
You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 
“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 
Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 
You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 
You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 
His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 
“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 
He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 
You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 
“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 
You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 
You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 
“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 
His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 
His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 
Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 
There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 
“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 
You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 
You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 
A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 
You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 
You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 
He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 
“So, what’s your technique” 
You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 
“Bet I could find out.” 
That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 
He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 
You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 
You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 
“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 
You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 
His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 
Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 
“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 
You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 
Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 
“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.
He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 
The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 
When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”
You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 
Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 
He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.
He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 
You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 
You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.
As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.
“That was Versace,” he whines. 
You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 
“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 
His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 
He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 
A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.
Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 
You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 
You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 
Now. Now, while he’s not looking.
You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 
You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 
You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 
Fuck. 
He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 
“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 
This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 
You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 
You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 
He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 
You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 
You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 
He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 
His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 
You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 
“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 
Your lips part. “You knew?” 
That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 
Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 
But you have one thing on him. 
“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”
There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 
You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 
His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 
You freeze. He notices. 
He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 
Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 
He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 
“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 
Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 
“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 
Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 
His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 
“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 
You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.
His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 
“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 
You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 
“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 
He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 
“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 
There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 
“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 
He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 
You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 
He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 
He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.
Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.
His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.
“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 
Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 
He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”
He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 
You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 
Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 
“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.
“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 
“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.
God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 
You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.
Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.
It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 
He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 
Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you
You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 
“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.
A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.
“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 
“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 
He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 
“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 
He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 
You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.
“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 
You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 
Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 
You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.
A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 
His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 
A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 
“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 
He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 
His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 
“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.
“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.
You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 
You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 
You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 
“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”
You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”
His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 
You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 
“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 
“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 
He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 
You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 
He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 
You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 
You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”
You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 
His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 
You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.
There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 
“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 
“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 
He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”
You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 
“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 
He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 
There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 
He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”
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caesium-55 · 2 months
Text
—seven days. [ iv ]
pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.
summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.
warning/s: sexual content but it's nothing too explicit. also angst angst angst.
author's note: NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. also, lemme know what u guys think!! would love to read it honestly. it was what had been keeping me inspired.
tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @leclercdream
masterlist.
You have three philosophies in life.
Pussies do not get the good stuff. If you want the good stuff, don't be a pussy.
Hard work will pay off one day. In the meantime, work hard but don't work too hard. You work smart and make it seem like you're working hard so by the time your “hard” work pays off, you’re not too tired from working and still have energy to enjoy your reward, you know? Does that make sense?
Whatever Max Verstappen wanted, Max Verstappen would get.
Now let us focus on philosophy number three. It's a shitty philosophy to have, but when you're working as the manager of Red Bull’s golden boy—after Sebastian Vettel, of course—that philosophy sort of becomes the job description. It's your job to give whatever Max Verstappen wanted, whatever he needed.
When he asks you that question, sounding so innocent as if he hasn't just yanked your entire world off its axis by saying those words, your first reaction is to pull up the middle finger. Fuck you, Max. Max is an asshole for asking you that. Max is an absolute asshole for asking you for a kiss. For the five years you've worked for him, he should already be aware of the power he holds over your head. Should be aware that you'll give anything he'll ask. That's why he should be careful with what he's asking from you.
Said asshole has the audacity to pout. He resembled the pet duck who lived in your Abuelo's farm that you were very fond of in your childhood. Her name was Maria and she was a menace. Your Abuelo even tied a pink bow to the duck’s neck so it could be easily recognizable. A 181-cm tall, broad-shouldered, blond-brown-haired Dutch duck with a blue-eyed gaze that will never fail to make your bones tremble and your heart stutter once you let yourself stare at it. You can put a bow around his neck, too, like what your Abuelo did to that duck. Then, use the bow to choke him in a way that is definitely not sexy or kinky but in a way that screams murder, murder, murder.
“That's not nice.”
“‘M not a nice person.”
“You're a nice person, you just don't do nice things.”
You give him a weird look.
“If you weren't a nice person, you would not be here with me right now,” he continues, in a manner that made him seem like a hundred-old sage imparting wisdom. “But you're here and you're not leaving and you're not hurting me so you're nice.”
His words cause something rotten to bloom in your ribs, “How are you so certain that ‘m not gonna end up hurtin’ you? For all you know, I'm gonna use this billiard stick to make you a human skewer right now.”
He laughs. God. The sound is absolutely beautiful that it terrifies you.
“You're you, [Name]. You would never hurt me.”
In a sense, he's right. You will never hurt him. Not intentionally, at least. If you wanted him to hurt, you'll be leaving right now and flying to Texas the same way Kelly did in Abu Dhabi. Because, for someone like Max, nothing in this world is more painful than to be left alone when all you yearned for is someone to be there for you.
“So……will you?” he asks again. “Will you kiss me?”
He's drunk, your brain reasons. Your fingers gently reach for his jaw—very angular, you belatedly realize—and Max chases the warmth of your skin. He does not know what he's asking, your brain reasons again. You tug him towards you and your mouth meets his, immediately registering the taste of the beer on his tongue. He’s stupid, your brain added. I’m stupid, too, you argue mentally and pushes him against the side of the billiard table and toss your stick to the floor and let yourself take everything from Max Verstappen. Fuck you Max, you think with finality. Your brain replies: You’re also fucked.
He took what he wanted from you. Every day. Every single day. He will ask and you will give. Now, it is your turn to take. One last time before the inevitable goodbye that you know will break both of your hearts.
Anger. Frustration. That's what you feel right now. Anger because this is going to make things more complicated for you and goddammit, why are you making things hard for yourself? Frustrated because you’re not supposed to do this but you cannot fucking stop. Thank fuck you resigned before pulling this shit because this is soooooo unprofessional.
You read somewhere that said something like all people are driven to the point of eating their gods after a time. And is this situation not a perfect demonstration of this? Max is your god. Max was your god. And you are going to devour him—fueled by five years of frustration and anger and a series of why, why, why didn't you talk to Horner? Now it's too late because I'm leaving all because you didn't talk to fucking Horner.
You've forgiven 2021. 2022 made your grudge grow. And you're not stupid to continue staying after his 2023 victory when it's clearly not happening—the dream that will be given to you with Max's power. You will never forgive yourself if you stayed here and be continuously reminded of what you could become, what you failed to become.
Max is surprisingly pliant under your hands. A rare occasion. One would expect Max Verstappen to take the lead because that's what he did in the race tracks. A 20-second lead from everyone else. He's also the type to just do whatever he wanted, you know? And people would let him. Because he's Max Verstappen.
Dominance. Total dominance.
“Wait,” he squeezes your arms and you do not hear him clearly the first time because you're so concentrated on his lips and how it feels and tastes against yours. “Wait, wait. Slow down.”
You pull away and you hear him take a gasp of air, “Somethin’ wrong?”
He looks so beautiful like this. Beneath you. Lips swollen. Blue eyes wide with desire. Hair perfectly messy. Grip on your arm so tight that you're sure will definitely leave a hand-shaped bruise tomorrow.
“Can’t breathe,” he says with a light laugh and you resist the urge to violently bash your head against the billiard table because what the fuck? That's not good for your heart. It's too… too… adorable. Max is not supposed to be an adorable person.
You suck in a breath and lower your head until your forehead meets Max’s firm chest.
“Fuck you,” you mumble.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
You raise your head and meet Max’s eyes, the culprit behind your insanity right now.
(Your Abuela said that blue eyes were just blue eyes. Until you fall in love with someone with blue eyes and blue becomes a color that consumed your world whole. You appreciated the sky more because it reminded you of his eyes. You appreciated the color of the seas more because it reminded you of his eyes. Blue became the color of love.)
Now what? Do you continue or…?
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Do you even need to ask?” you deadpan. Max’s hands circle around your waist and he gently guides you away from him. He dusts his shirt once he has fully risen from the billiard table before his hand finds yours. Fingers intertwining together, he leads you out of the entertainment room.
Your heart drums with anticipation. Numerous questions circle around your head but it all disappears in a flash when Max brings you to the room where you found him that morning. You wince when you walk past the broken door.
Yeah…
Making a payment plan will be hell. You're unemployed at the current moment, too. The first thing you have to do when you land in Texas is find a job.
He makes you sit on his bed, the soft mattress dipping down on your weight. You can only stare at him, brows furrowing in confusion and a question sitting on the tip of your tongue that you are yet to voice out. Max makes a beeline to his closet, throwing it open and procuring a box.
A box.
He walks back to you, dropping on his knees and that action makes you panic. Then, Max opens the box, pulling out the most gorgeous pair of five-inch block heels you have ever laid eyes upon and gently slips them onto your feet. The straps have pearls and satin bows and it has tiny white diamonds, elegantly cut, as the centerpiece. Not even the YSL Opyum heels you own can compare to its elegance and beauty.
You almost kick him in the face because you do not expect that he’ll do that.
I bought shoes and they don't fit her. Max has told you. You feel bile rise up your throat.
The shoes. They fit you. Perfectly. As if it was made to be yours. As if it was bought to be yours. As if he was thinking of you, who is nothing but his manager and somewhat friend, when he bought the gorgeous heels instead of Kelly Piquet, his fucking girlfriend of three years whom he had been living with in this fucking penthouse, and parenting little P with.
“They're perfect,” Max whispers and he looks up with that smile playing on his lips. You feel tears sting your eyes and you press your lips into a thin line before moving your gaze away, blinking rapidly.
Max is doing this because he thought you were Kelly.
“They're custom, you know? They're the only pair in the world.”
His words make the taste of bile a hundred times worse. You stare at the shoes on your feet as if it's a sin to have the shoes fit you. No wonder Kelly is mad at Max. If Leo has commissioned custom heels with another woman in mind and got your shoe size wrong after three years of being together, you'll feel hurt, too.
You feel the need to apologize to Kelly. Maybe a quick message to her IG? You also follow each other’s private account.
“You’re thinking,” he says and his voice snaps you out of the rabbit hole known as your thoughts. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothin’,” you lie. The feeling of wanting to puke intensifies so you grab Max by his collar and plant your lips against his to push back the imaginary bile stuck on your throat and from there, the situation escalates to the point that clothes are removed. One by one. When you reach to unstrap the heels, Max grabbed your wrists, almost panicked.
“What are you doin’?” you ask.
“Don't take them off please.”
Whatever Max wanted, Max would get.
Your name built a home in Max’s mouth, the syllables rolling off his tongue with ease at every pleasure he felt, while your fingers explore every inch of Max’s skin. You're only allowed to watch back then. Now, you're allowed to touch.
Hearing his whimpers and little groans and shudders—all done by your hands—you feel nothing but satisfaction. He chants your name like it's a prayer and you're his god and if that is not love then you do not what is.
You wait for Max to utter Kelly’s name midway.
He never did.
“What are you doing?” his voice is groggy with sleep. After doing it, he immediately passes out. Weak ass bitch. You're still waiting for the horror once the realization of what you’ve done sinks into your system. The annoying headache, too. For now, none of them have arrived yet. Probably because you still have enough alcohol in your system to numb things out for you. While waiting, you're on your phone.
Ha, it's past 12 midnight now. You have three days to tell Max before you fly to Texas.
“Talkin' to someone,” you reply cryptically. His brows knit together.
“Who?”
“Just Logan.”
“The American in Williams?”
You roll your eyes, “Yes, the American in Williams.”
You notice how his arms on your waist tighten, pulling you a little closer to him, but you say nothing. This action causes flowers to bloom in your lungs and you hope he hasn't noticed how your breath hitched.
“Why?”
“He’s my friend. Friends talk,” you deadpan.
Logan Sargeant is an absolute sweetheart. He reminds you a lot of your little brother and you both share the same sentiments regarding the feeling of being unwelcomed in Formula One. You suppose he has it worse though. Nobody in the grid really makes an effort to befriend the young racer and you're fifty percent sure that the fact he's American made a contribution to that.
None of the other racers even follow him on Insta.
“Well, what are you two talking about?” Grumpy and bratty Max is back. Welcome back, asshole.
“He’s in Texas right now and he was askin’ if I was back home, too. Said we should grab a drink together. I promised to show him around Austin.”
“You never invited me to Austin.”
“Why would you even go to Austin?” your nose scrunch a little. “You visit your mother for Christmas.”
He rolls his eyes.
“You're befriending too much racers.”
“Excuse me? I only have Logan as a friend. Charles, too, by extension because he's your friend,” you point out. “Checo and Daniel and Yuki and Liam because they work with you.”
“And me.”
“You're not my friend.”
“What am I then? Your dog?”
“I work for you.”
“You work with me, not for me,” he corrects.
You do not know why your heart skipped a beat at that.
“I’m just trynna be a good friend here and you're bein’ unreasonably grumpy,” you try to shift the subject to save your own sanity. “None of you even tried to befriend Logan.”
Max abruptly reaches for his phone on the bedside table and unlocks it. You watch as he opens his Instagram, the public one, and added Logan's account. You gape. He switches to his private account and searches for Logan’s account in your profile's list of followers and adds him, too.
“What the fuck, Max?”
“I’m befriending him,” he says simply. “I’ll invite him over if he ever comes by in Monaco during the off-season.”
You blink.
“Now say goodbye to him and go back to sleep.”
He tosses his phone to the bedside table and turn his back on you in a manner that reminded you of a very petulant child.
You glance at your phone only to see Logan’s freaked out messages.
logan: HE FOLLOWED ME??!? ON BOTH ACCOUNTS???
logan: AM I SEEING THINGS? HAVE I ACCIDENTALLY SNORTED DRUGS??!
logan: maybe it's the texas heat??
logan: *sent a screenshot*
logan: MAX VERSTAPPEN INVITED ME TO HIS PENTHOUSE??
you: congrats child
logan: is this your doing??!?
logan: are you with him now?
logan: wait that's impossible, itd be 2 am in monaco now there's no way youd be together rn
If only he knows.
you: how bout we talk later once the sun rises here in monaco?
you: or maybe once i arrive in the us?
logan: sure sure
you: stay safe out there kid
logan: HE JUST FOLLOWED ME I CAN DIE HAPPY
You toss your phone aside and inch closer to Max, looping your arms around him and falling asleep in his warmth.
Your phone rings and it's not the Max Max Max Super Max Max ringtone. It's the default one.
Mama, the caller ID indicates. 4:31 AM is written on the upper right corner of your phone screen. You press the answer button.
“Your Papa…… It was a dangerous call. He needs to see you before he… He might not make it.”
That alone is enough for you to jump out of bed. You scramble to grab last night’s clothes and slip them on. Fuck, they still smell like alcohol.
“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” Max, who's rudely awakened when you abruptly jumped out of bed, looks so lost and when he sees you run your way out of his bedroom and to the stairs, he panics. The poor man panicked. He falls down the bed and runs after you, having the decency to only grab a towel to cover his lower half. He stops you, grabbing your wrist just as you're at the lowest step of the stairs.
“Wait, where are you going?” his voice is still rough with sleep and he's aggressively rubbing out his grogginess from his eyes. You stop, letting out a breath that you don't realize you're holding before turning around to face him. Then, the guilt rushes in. Max looks so…you don't have the words to describe it. His hair is a mess and he still looks sleepy but he also looks wide awake and kind of panicking and confused.
This is a face that's equally endearing and heartbreaking. You can't believe this will be the last time you'll be seeing him. You're still supposed to have three days left but now it's cut short and you—
You'll miss him.
“Sorry, baby,” you come up a few steps and cup his cheeks, bringing his face down so you can kiss his forehead. His hand comes up to lay on top of yours, eyes fluttering close.
“Where are you going?” he asks again.
“Texas,” you reply. “Dad… he… 'Twas a bad call and I need to see him. I need—I need to go home now.”
This is the reality of being family with a firefighter. You're always in danger of losing your father in one of the calls. And that is happening now.
Max understands because he knows your father's line of work.
“Do you need me to come with you?”
You shake your head.
“Then, I’ll drive you.”
“No,” you shoot him down quickly. “You drank last night. It’s dangerous.”
“I’m not drunk now.”
“Max,” you breathe through your nose to calm yourself down. “I’ll take the next flight available to the US. You stay here.”
“Take my jet.”
“No, Max,” you say. “Thank you for the offer but you’ll use the jet when you visit your mother.”
“I can fly commercial,” he squeezes your hands. “You don't want me to drive you. You don't want me to come with you. At least take the jet.”
You open your mouth to protest.
“Just take the jet, please, [Name].”
Whatever Max wanted, Max would get. So you nod your head slowly because it looks like he'll argue just to get you seated in his jet. And you'll argue with him if it was any other day but not today because you need to leave quickly. Time is becoming too precious. You can lose your Dad any second. You just wish you can see him and talk to him before he went.
“Okay.”
You pull away, whipping around to head to the door but Max doesn't let your wrist go. You turn back to him.
“What is it, Max?”
“Text me when you land in Texas?”
“Of course.”
“One last thing. Wait here.”
He runs back to his room and you tap your foot impatiently, eyes trained on the mismatched shoes that covered your feet. Max returns not even five minutes later and now, he's wearing clothes and he’s carrying the shoe box from last night.
You swallow the lump on your throat.
“Take this with you.”
With shaking hands, you take the box.
“See you around, [Name].”
“Goodbye, Max.”
It's a good thing that you spent the entire morning yesterday packing because this makes everything smoother for you. It is a little past 5 am now and the outside world is still enveloped in total darkness. You gaze at the apartment one last time, three suitcases in tow. The keys feel heavy in your hands as you lock the door behind you.
In the middle of your apartment living room sits a lone shoe box with a letter that says: Sorry, Max. I can't steal more from Kelly.
Beside the box is a folder.
An unfinished guide on becoming Max Verstappen’s manager. (I’ll have the final copy printed, binded, and sent before the 2024 pre-season. Haha, I’m channeling my inner Toto Wolff.)
The first paper you’ll see after you open the folder reads:
Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.
Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.
I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024 and honestly, I am worried. Not for you, of course. You’d win WDC whether I am your manager or not. That's how good you are. I am worried for your future manager. I’m afraid it would take someone with guts like me to work for with someone like you. A powerhouse manager for a powerhouse athlete.
Inside, you can find the following things:
How to bake my abuela’s special cheesecake.
How to make Red Bull vodka
How to make Max’s favorite pasta for lunch
List of Max Verstappen’s favorite places in each city
How to iron Max Verstappen’s clothes
What to do when Max accidentally sets the kitchen on fire
What to do when Max has a bad race
How to protect Max Verstappen from angry Hamilton fans
How to deal with a drunk Max Verstappen
Etc…
I will still be watching your journey, not from the Red Bull garage but from another continent. We worked five amazing years together and now it is time for us to fly on different skies. As much as I liked working with you, you can't be the only one reaching your dreams. Don’t worry, I’ll always reach out.
Thank you, Max. For giving me a home. I’m not talking about the apartment. I don't believe that home are establishments. Home is the people you love and Max, you are someone I love.
In the last page of this folder, you’d see a handmade bracelet tucked inside. It's small and it's made of cheap beads and I do not care if you don't think it's worthy enough to be worn on your wrist. Not even going to be offended. It's dirt compared to the Cartier bracelets you wear everyday. I bought the beads while roaming in Brazil and I just thought I’d make you one.
I cannot give you any gift that you already cannot buy with your money so I went ahead and made this. Money cannot buy anything made by my own hands.
Thank you again, Max.
And I’m so fucking sorry.
Please don't be angry.
I love you.
You watch the sun rise inside Max's jet as you fly over Monaco to Texas.
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tinandabin · 3 months
Text
SAGAU but the the reader is the ACTUAL creator
Thorny love: part 5
Previous part: part 4
a/n: am I back from the dead? I dunno, but yesterday night I felt like writing and wrote another part. so, I decided to publish it here also!
________
"Yo-Your Grace... You are finally here.." Ei spoke, her eyes wide and her legs shaking a bit. It almost looked like she was gonna cry. However, her face hardened up as soon as more people started gathering around you and her. Perhaps, you were the only one to catch a glimpse of her expression. She is an Archon, she too has a reputation to uphold in Inazuma, after all. "Hello, Ei. How have you been?" You smiled at her, hand going up to ruffle her hair. Revelyn still hadn't let go of your robe, her hold on it tightened a bit.
Ei's breath hitched as soon as your hand messed with her hair. "I'm..." She tried to find the right words to express her feelings, but she couldn't. How can she explain that she felt as if a part of her had been torn from her when you left her? It felt as if...she had been plunged into never-ending despair and loneliness. She missed you, very dearly. The place where her heart should have been, felt strangely empty without your embrace, your smile, your eyes, you.
Your hand retreated soon enough, "You don't have to answer, Ei." You gently told her, sensing her inner turmoil. It hurt you to leave your creations suffering and in agony, it truly did so. But some actions are sadly enough, necessary.
Ei smiled and nodded, hand coming to hold yours when she saw another hand grasping your robe. Immediately, she looked at the culprit only to see the face of the impostor. How dare she even show her face here after all she did? The thought made her scoff. She not only deceived the Archons but even you. The nerve of some people.. And now she acts all angelic and needy when you show up? But of course, Ei won't say anything. Not in front of you. 
"And who might be the coward behind you, Your Grace?" Ei gestured towards Revelyn behind you. You smiled beamingly, gently prying Revelyn from behind you. "Oh, come now, Ei, you don't remember her?" You asked her innocently, quickly realizing the jab she was throwing towards Revelyn, but brushing it off. You don't wish for an argument to start over here, of all places. 
Ei stared at Revelyn for a moment, taking your hint to not taunt her. "I do, Your Grace. How could I not?" 
"I'm glad to know so, " You put your hands on Revelyn's shoulder, your touch sending an electrifying shock of pleasure through her body. "Everyone misunderstood Revelyn. She's a very sweet and angelic girl. I'm sure she will fit right back in, hm?" 
Revelyn stood awkwardly, clearly wanting to be anywhere but here. She decided to keep up her act of cowardice until you left. "Um.. Hi," Her meek voice spoke up, a slight tremble to it. She batted her eyelashes at Ei, smiling softly. "I'm Revelyn.. Revelyn Aniela. " 
The surname struck some nostalgic feeling inside you. You had a brief feeling that perhaps you had heard this somewhere before, that perhaps someone dear to you held the same surname. Someone close to your heart, your mind, your soul- but who? Who was that? You can't recall. Aniela. Aniela. Aniela. So familiar, yet so distinct. Maybe it was simply the name of a friend long gone, you would love to give yourself this benefit of doubt, but you're not the kind of person to do that. You're the Creator for fuck's sake, if you're remembering something, then that must be because it's important! It was of significance, you wouldn't just remember a random surname, right? Right...?
You shook your head, deciding you're indeed giving yourself the benefit of the doubt because you're too old to deal with this detective stuff. Frankly enough, if you think about it more, you'll probably just get a headache. Best to leave it be, now. You'll just ask Seraphina to play detective, like always. You cleared your throat. "So, what are we waiting for? Shall we go?" 
Ei nodded right away, grabbing your hand and Intertwining your fingers. "As you wish, Your Grace. " 
Revelyn was left behind to catch up. 
__________
A few days passed in Inazuma without much commotion. You spent most of the time with Ei, Revelyn of course stuck around so long as you were there. Personally, you were tired of both of them. They need to stop clinging to you like you're their mother. Ei, you understood why she clinged to you, considering she didn't see you for months on end, but Revelyn, who lived with you for like... the past month, it wasn't very understandable. Lile be for real, Revelyn. You not tired yet? Like. Girl. Stop embarrassing yourself and get some self respect and go where you're actually wanted. 
So, for both your sanity and their's (Lie), you decided to leave both of them together to socialize and become the best of best friends. (Lie. You just wanted time to yourself and wanted to meet Yae Miko.) Of course, you were, for the first time, surprised to see both Ei and Revelyn unite together. Merely for the purpose of notetting you leave but hey, progress! They atleast united for a common goal, no matter how troublesome that may be for you. 
Their combined forces weren't enough to deter you, in the end, you won and they were forced to talk to each other or sulk together, or maybe, a rare possibility, but have a heated make-out session. Who knows. Whatever works, works. They're on their own now and you're on your own, to meet Yae Miko and have a heated make-out session with her perhaps. It won't happen, maybe, but the thought is entertaining though. You're like, 93% certain Miko would agree if you asked. It's not like she hasn't suggested that before. Ah, enough thoughts. You're here. 
"Good grace, it's such a heavy task to climb these hills to just be graced by your presence, Miko, " You let out a whine, leaning against one of thr shrine. "You should know my old bones can't hold for long-" A book was placed against your lips and a fluffy, really fluffy and soft, tail caressed your thigh sneakily. "My my, Your Divinity, you ought to know, I don't fancy you saying those words. You look very beautiful, and ravishing, might I add. " Yae Miko said, leaning in close to you with a smirk on her face. 
You placed a hand on her wrist, gently removing the book. "I'm happy you think so, but might I say, you look even more delightful, " You replied back with a grin. This flirty playful banter was always your favorite thing to do in Inazuma, apart from watching Revelyn and Ei be at their throats, of course. "Oh please, Your Divinity, you flatter me. But we both know, you're the most beautiful-" You placed a finger on her lips. "Ahhh, shhh. Nothing more to speak of this topic. You can't argue with me on this, you're, of course, the most stunning woman in Inazuma, " 
Miko let out an offended gasp, "Inazuma only? Is that my beauty's worth to you, Your Divinity? I'm offended, " She pouted, clearly putting up an act just for you. 
"No no, my dear. I meant in whole Teyvat. It would be a crime for me to think your beauty isn't other worldly, " 
And this playful banter continued on. 
_________
On the other side, Revelyn and Ei were indeed having a heated make-out session. Not the kind you're thinking of. 
"Oh, so as soon as my graceful creator leaves, you suddenly drop the act of cowardice?" Ei stared at Revelyn, a cold and unrelenting aura around her. 
"Your creator...? Psssh," Revelyn let out a mocking laugh, "Please. Your words are blatantly false!" She glared at Ei, her fists clenching at her sides. 
"Shut up, you witch, you casted a spell of sorts on my graceful creator, didn't you? That's why she is completely and utterly fooled by you!" 
"Oh? I'll cast a spell on you too and turn you into a monkey if you don't shut up!"
You walked in with a smile. "Guys. I just had a make-out session with Miko-"
________
taglist: taglist: @shizunxie @dearloonies @iruiji @yani-dere @kiraisastay @fauxizs @salvationprodigy @thetruepair @lunalily19 @vvyeislazzy @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @kaveh-is-pretty @plusea @i-have-a-lot-of-ocs @the-real-fandom-person @kunikuzushisbeloved @artwitchh @sadgutaches @irisxiel @atlaincorrect @warcelia @lorkai @muomoii @elakari @burningtyphoonlady @daily-average
@3noa3 @7smexy7diva @5sos-wdw @bre99 @kittieswitheverything @theblueblub @faejvst @ryver8000 @dreamlessnight @bunnyOu @goldenglow149 @callmehnooby
@angelofdarkness2 @anglicascorner
@pinxeajin @avalordream @boycigs @ilovemyhusbandaaravos
a/n: hi! if yr name is cut, then that means I couldn't tag you. if in the next part I won't be able to tag you, then your name will be removed from the taglist. please ask me to tag you again in the LATEST part to be readded to the taglist! thank you (❁´◡`❁)
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welcomingdisaster · 1 month
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halls of mandos dashboard simulator... part 2
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writerswall26 · 3 months
Text
First Time In Years
Synopsis: Y/N is an action star who's dubbed as Tom Cruise Jr. she was in a relationship with Jenna for a while before the two of them broke up due to Jenna's uprising status in the industry. The two of them happened to bump into each other at an award show and time stopped when they saw each other again.
Warning: Bad writing, Feels.
Words: 1.1k
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A/N: I was feeling a bit bored then this popped in my head so I thought I'd share it to you guys. Happy Reading!
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You've been away from the entertainment lime light for a couple of years because of an accident that happened in a production you were doing a few years ago.
During those times you were down and under, one person stuck by your side and supported you, from recovery, to therapy, to getting back in shape. You'd never ever forget that person, she was the one for you, you believed that. But fate had something instilled for the both of you. She was an uprising superstar, you did not want to hold her back. So you did what you thought was best at the time, you broke up with her.
A few years back, you were not so sure you're gonna be back into doing action films due to an accident you had on a set that left you bed bound for at least 3 months. You thought your time in doing actions was done by that point. But here you are, leading a sequel from one of the best action films of all time, Top Gun: Maverick. Your Godfather pushed you to be in this movie, quoting "you're gonna be my successor, I want you in this movie". So yeah, what Tom Cruise asks, he shall get. And today, you're back in an award show with your castmates.
Today, you're gonna have to face that person again. You're not entirely sure what would happen, or if anything would happen at all. You haven't seen her since you two broke up, but you did follow her activities. Watch her series, movies, anything that would update you of what she's been up to. And you couldn't be more proud of what success she'd had. She was becoming a household name and she's still getting bigger and bigger as the time goes by.
So, when you saw her being interviewed wearing a wonderful dress, you could not help but stare, you're shameless about that, but can you blame yourself? She was looking beautiful. She looked more mature now, her long hair cut shorter, she looked more of a woman now, it's crazy what time did to her. She looked more beautiful, she's always been beautiful in your eyes.
"Stop staring and start approaching, kid." She heard Miles whisper in her ears.
Y/N turned to her castmate and gave out a chuckle. "I don't think that's a wise idea."
Miles looked confused. "Why is that?"
Y/N shrugged. "Let's just say we want to leave it where it was left." She said before she walked on. Miles was still confused as he followed her inside with their team.
"So, who's that girl you were looking at lovingly outside?" Glen asked as soon as they got to their table.
Y/N groaned, not wanting this topic to be the talk of the entire night.
"She's just... some I used to know, okay?" She told them, pleading for them to stop asking questions.
The older men and women got the signal as soon as they heard her frustrated voice, and thankfully, they did not continue to ask.
The entire show, Y/N would steal glances to look at the girl she's watching outside. She couldn't help it. It's been so long. Of all the places, she never thought she'd be seeing her here, with a guy she knows has been linked to the girl.
"I'm gonna go to the toilet real quick." Y/N told her mates and went without waiting for a reply.
She did her business and was about to leave when she stopped on her track as she was face to face with the girl she's been eyeing the entire time. She looked as shocked as Y/N, her eyes widened.
Should've tried to hold it in. Y/N thought.
The two of them stood there, in the middle of the comfort room, staring at each other with wide eyes. No one made an attempt to move, or even to speak. It's like they're stuck in a dimension where they're just there, standing and staring at each other.
Y/N was the first to move, to get back to her senses. She gave out a small chuckle, thinking how dumb they probably look inside the toilet room, just staring at each other.
She cleared her throat, getting the attention of the girl in front of her. "Well, you look extremely lovely." Y/N said genuinely, smiling.
The girl in front of her giggles as well, her dimples showing. Y/N always loved those cute dimples, and she most definitely loved the sound of those cute giggles.
"It's so weird that the first time I see you after so long, we're in a comfort room." Jenna said, giving out a giggle again, lowering her head, shaking it lightly.
Y/N laughed with Jenna as well. The two of them looked like madmen inside the comfort room.
"How have you been?" Y/N asked when they finally calmed down.
Jenna's smile never left her face. "Good. I've been good. You?"
Y/N nodded. "I'm getting by. Trying to get back on my feet."
Jenna nodded, then she looked at Y/N from head to toe. She never thought she would see the taller girl again. Ever since they broke up, Y/N seemingly went under the radar, like she was hiding, not wanting anyone to find her. But here she was, standing tall and healthy.
"I saw the film. I thought you weren't gonna get back to it. Was afraid I'd heard on the news that you broke something again." Jenna admitted, making Y/N's heart jump at the thought that Jenna was still worried about her after all these times.
"I wasn't expecting to get back in action as well. Just tried to bring back the old me, but did not expect to get back."
Jenna nodded. "What made you take the film?"
Y/N grinned. "Tom Cruise."
Jenna giggled again. "Ah, of course. Can never say no to the godfather." She said, causing the both of them to share a small laugh.
"You realize we're really catching up inside a freakin' comfort room, right?" Y/N said, giving Jenna one of those weird looks she loves to give.
"Yeah, I know it's weird, and disgusting."
Y/N just shook her head. She stared at Jenna for a moment, taking all of her in. She's still as beautiful as before, maybe even more. But one thing's for sure, she's still the Jenna she knows, nothing has changed.
"Congratulations on everything you've achieved. I'm extremely proud." Y/N turned serious, but the smile on her face never left.
"Congratulations on getting back to the screen, I'm extremely proud." Jenna replied.
The two of them stared at one another, before Y/N broke their eye contact.
"I'll see you around, Jenna." She finally spoke.
"See you around, Y/N."
And they both left it at that. Their hearts are full knowing the sacrifice both of them made blossomed into something bigger than they both expected. That would stay in both their hearts forever.
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bunnypeew · 3 months
Text
Wicked little thing - Alastor x Gn!reader NSFW
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warnings: NSFW, MDNI pls thank you,, possessive Alastor, pet names, established relationship, doesn't really have a plot just smut dom!Alastor, sub!reader
okay so this is gonna be NSFW I am aware that Alastor is ace but Id like to say that it is a spectrum and a lot of people who are ace themselves also write NSFW of Al, but in case anything happens I'll be happy to take it down also the outfit is primarily like shorts/miniskirt and a shirt with a boob window
Today was a peaceful day, well at least as peaceful as it could get in hell anyway, Y/n was getting ready in their room in the hotel, they weren't sure of what to wear so they opted for a pretty open outfit since it was hot that day, not thinking one bit about what other people might think, the important thing is that they were comfortable. So they went down to the lobby to get some errands from Charlie for the day, she was hanging out at the bar with Husk and Vaggie talking about god knows what but as soon as she saw Y/n coming in her direction she perked up ready to say hi to them
''Oh hi Y/n!! Good morning!! You came down to get some errands I presume?,,
she said excitedly taking them by the hand to greet them even more, they couldn't help but smile at her excitement
''yeah ahah, hope I'm not interrupting anything tho,,
she shook her head smiling looking back at them with kind of a serious face even tho it was still filled with excitement
''Okay so I need you to do some errands outside in cannibal town, you know how the people helped us and everything id like for you to give this to Rosie! sadly I'm too busy to do it myself I hope Its not a bother,,
''not at all, don't even worry about Charlie I will go there right away,,
they say taking said thing from Charlie's hands and heading out of the Hotel. As they arrived at cannibal town it took them a while to remember where Rosie's emporium was but as soon as they found they sighed in relief. It's not like they didn't like cannibal town, hell Alastor was a cannibal so it wasn't that, it's just that being outside with a bunch of people around made them uneasy.
As they enter the emporium they hear Rosie talking to someone so they walk towards the voices to find Alastor is the one she was talking to, they weren't surprised at all, Rosie was one of Alastor's dear friend so it was usual for them to be talking. They put all their attention towards Rosie not even noticing how Alastor was gripping his staff a little too tight
''Hey Rosie! I came here to give you something Charlie wanted you to have! here!,,
they say giving them the thing from their hands, Rosie was really happy and thanked them profusely also asking them if they wanted a pinky finger or something, but they declined kindly. It was at this point that Alastor got up from his seat, planting a hand on Y/n waist a little roughly
''My dear Rosie, it was a pleasure speaking to you but it seems that me and this little thing have to be going! till next time!,,
and like that shadows engulfed them making them appear in the shared bedroom they had at the hotel. Alastor then with one hand rotates them around roughly, putting one hand under their chin and pulling their head up to look at him while the other one digs in their waist. Y/n was confused at this little aggression that Alastor was displaying, it was not like it at all
''Don't I always tell you to be careful my dear, mh?~ what is going on with this distasteful outfit you are wearing, how many people looked at you,,
Y/n looked him in the eyes understanding what was going on: He was jealous and nonetheless possessive they didn't say anything, wanting Alastor to get even more worked up over how they looked today. Seeing this Alastor pushes them onto the bed and places himself between their legs, one hand digging into their hip while the other one is around their pretty little neck
''not replying now are we, pet?~ Let's see how much you can hold in your words, shall we?..
with that, he roughly took off their pants and slipped out his cock then pushed it all in one thrust, this made Y/n whimper with their mouth closed not wanting to give up on being a brat just yet. Alastor was going rough, hard and fast savouring every thrust, still holding on to their neck, the other hand claws digging deeper in their hip with each thrust
''you belong to me, do you understand that pet?~,,
he says waiting for an answer from them, when he doesn't get one he slaps their ass making them moan out loud, he then gets his face closer to theirs to whisper in their ear
''I want an answer my love~,,
they moan putting both their hands around the hand that Alastor had around their necks, they decide they've been a brat enough, after all they didn't want the radio demon to get even more aggressive
''Yes Alastor,,
he then smirks and kisses them on the neck going back to his pace now a little slower and softer
''Good pet,,
he says now kissing them on the neck and savouring every moan that comes out of their mouth. He then starts going even faster when he starts reaching his climax, his hands both on their hips digging into their skin, and finishing in them with one last hard thrust. He then flops himself on their chest breathing heavily
''Sorry I made you mad Al~,,
they say now in a soft voice, putting their hands in Alastor's hair to stroke at his deer ears, this makes him hum softly
a/n: I LOVE ALASTOR WITH MY ENTIRE BEING!! and him being possessive wowie sign me in!!! hope you guys liked this and remember my requests are now open in case anyone wants to suggest a prompt!!
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turcott3 · 2 months
Note
pls write more Jamie!!!!!
ask and you shall receive!!!!
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drinking game
jamie drysdale x fem! reader
warnings?: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex (🙅🏻‍♀️), oral fem receiving, fluff
(this is an older draft that i edited, apologies for any mistakes🙏🏻)
masterlist
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as the sun began to set on the warm city of anaheim, the alcohol began to come out from the shadows, courtesy of none other than.... you guessed it! trevor zegras. he planned this gathering weeks ago in preparation for the start of the regular season. which of course jamie was elected to host.
"alright bitches let's get this damn show on the road." he says holding two packs of smirnoff ices mason just behind him with a 24 pack of twisted teas and a 12 pack of michelob ultra.
"this is all you got?" jamie asks, walking into the room.
"we still have a bunch of of shit from the last few weeks jimbo we're fine." he scoffs placing everything on the counter. jamie's dark damp hair falls over his face as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch. he runs his fingers through his hair brushing it out of his face and joins everyone in the kitchen as you had already cracked open a few drinks. apparently a few sips was enough for you to find jamie's simple gestures insanely attractive.
"hey y/n, can you pass me a smirnoff?" jamie asks nodding to the pack of originals on the counter near me.
"yeah here." you say passing him one. he opens the bottle eagerly and downs it like water. apparently you were staring because you were snapped out of your thoughts when jamie said your name.
"i was staring wasn't i?" you ask, your cheeks burning red.
"yep, but i was gonna ask if you wanted to shot gun with me?" he asks holding up three twisted teas.
"oh yeah of course, why do you have three?" you ask.
"two for me because i'm trying to get sloshed." he smiles handing you one. you follow the pale canadian into the backyard anxiously.
"ok on my count." jamie says holding up his hand counting down on his fingers. once he hits 1 you crack open the cans and down the drink as quickly as possible. considering you don't drink too often, you were already pretty drunk.
"can you go grab us another ice?" jamie asks as he is about to down the second one.
"yeah of course." you say trying not to trip and face plant your way back into the house. you return with the drinks and he opens your bottle handing it to you before opening his.
"cheers m'lady" he smirks.
"cheers." he says as you both take a swig.
"hey guys, alex brought a drinking game kate made, wanna play?" mason asks sticking his head through the doorway.
"yeah we're coming." jamie says smiling and finishing his drink. you follow him back into the house and sit side by side around a large board on the living room floor. you sat and listened as kate and alex explained the rules, which were straight forward. roll the dice, move that many spaces and do what the square says. everyone picks a game piece and start. the first round was light only taking a few sips of drinks and a few shots of malibu. needless to say, you were incredibly drunk and probably obviously eye fucking jamie sitting right next to you.
"alright y/n you landed on dare. who do you want to give you the dare?" kate asks you.
"uhm.... trevor." you say not knowing what he was gonna say. he gives alex a smirk and then opens his mouth to speak, "i dare you, to kiss jamie for 30 seconds."
your eyes go wide.
“what?”
"don't 'what' me you've been eye fucking him for the last 10 minutes." he laughs. you look to your right where jamie sat, looking completely unbothered.
"fine." you say climbing lazily into his lap. you place both of your hands on his face and colliding your lips. his hands find there way to your waist as he deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping your bottom lip to open. immediately, you feel your panties soak with moisture. he pats your ass cheek to signal that your time was done. once you separate you take a second to look into his eyes and what you saw was not what you expected from him.
pure lust.
you climb off his lap back into my spot, sitting criss cross quickly and adjust the leggings you’re wearing.
"¡ honestly don't even know what to say." kate laughs and everyone joins. including you and jamie with hesitant laughs as our eyes lock again.
"ok anyways jamie, you got 4." she says and he moves his piece 4 spaces.
"take as many shots as rolled on the dice." he says aloud," how about chug for 5 seconds."
"sure." alex says. jamie grabs onto the neck of the malibu and takes a few decent gulps.
"fuck." he says feeling the effects. as the game continues, the tension between jamie and you had only grown. you’ve scooted closer together and his hand has found his way onto your leg.
"HA I WIN!" mason yells, downing the rest of his drink. everyone stands up to go your separate ways again.
jamie grabs onto your hand and guides you to the empty kitchen. he leans back onto the counter, pulling you with him by your hands. your hands find their way to his chest as you look up into his big blue eyes.
"you can't keep looking at me like that." he says smoothing his hands down your back and stopping on your ass.
"but maybe it's because i want something." you say basically pulling out the puppy dog eyes.
"y/n there's a bunch of people here." he says hesitantly lifting his hand off your ass and directing your gaze to the window.
"and you have a bedroom, with a door that locks." you say patting him on the chest. he sits and stares at you for another moment.
"my fucking god, how can i say no to you?" he says leaning down and connecting your lips again, this time more passionately, knowing that no one is around. after a few moments you hesitantly break the kiss.
"come on let's go hang out with them for a little bit." he says surprisingly.
"jamie please." you beg grabbing fist fulls of his shirt.
"y/n come on, we can go sit out with them while they drink more and then we can go up okay?" he asks brushing a strand up hair out of your face.
"but why can't we just go now?"
"would you just trust me for a second?" he says clearly having an alterier motive.
"okay." you say as he kisses you one more time before guiding you by the small of your back out to the fire pit. he sits down on the loveseat and you go to sit next to him, which he stops you and pulls you onto his lap and jumps into conversation casually. you stare at him like an alien for a moment while his hands so casually rested around your ass. you’re painfully aware of how close you are.
at this point you’re longing for him. you keep shifting on his lap trying to hide the horny bitch you were becoming, while hopefully torturing him in the process. his hands tighten their grip on you
. "go upstairs." he whispers in your ear.
"and say what to them?"
"just say you're going to the bathroom because you don't feel great or something. i'll be up there in five." he replies and you stand up.
"hey guys, i'm gonna head to the bathroom, i'm not feeling great. i may call it a night."
"aw but you're staying over right?" trevor asks.
"yeah yeah, just gonna go maybe take a cold shower or something." you say finally escaping and making your way up the stairs into jamie's room. knowing that jamie would soon be up there for you is already enough to leave your underwear dripping.
you sat anxiously on the bed, picking at your nails waiting for him to walk through the door. a few slow minutes go by and you finally hear the knob turn.
"sorry i kept you waiting love, i told them i was coming to check on you and they just kept trying to get me to stay."
"it's okay, you're here now," you say standing up and walking towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.
"do you know how hard it was for me to control myself with you squirming like that, i could barely keep my dick in line." he says separating your lips.
"i'm sorry, i couldn't help myself. i wanted you so bad."
"now i know we're both drunk but are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks you keeping his hands placed gently on your sides.
"yes of course i do. drunk words are sober thoughts jamie. i've always had a little crush on you." you giggle pressing the side of your head to his chest and hugging onto him.
"come here." he says beckoning you over to the bed, pulling you on top of him as he laid on his back. he connects your lips hungrily as his tongue begs for entry, which is immediately given. you run your hands up his toned chest under his shirt, signaling for him to remove it which he quickly does. you break apart the kiss, sitting up and removing your shirt. he sits up to meet you and connecting your lips again as you feel the bulge in his pants push against you. he groans at the contact.
"fuck i need you jamie." you say growing hornier by the millisecond. hastily, you remove the rest of our outer layer leaving you both only in underwear. he stands looking at you for a few moments before walking over to you, touching your chests together. he runs his fingers gently down your sides, trailing goosebumps behind them.
"you're so gorgeous y/n." he whispers, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.
"you're just teasing me at this point jam, please i want you."
"i'm being serious though angel." he says trailing kisses on your jawline.
"come on." you say pulling him by his waist to the bed.
"lay down." he says and you do so. he pulls you by my calves towards the edge of the bed and carefully removes your underwear.
"jamie what are you doing?"
"you've been so gorgeous tonight so i'm all about you." he says kissing your inner thighs leading closer and closer to your core. your breath hitches when his tongue makes immediate, intense contact with your clit making your eyes roll into the back of my head.
"fuck jamie." you moan out, tangling your fingers in his dark locks. his tongue moves in thorough circles before he slips two fingers in unexpectedly making the knot in your stomach tighten harder.
"oh my fucking god." you choke on my words. you knew you were closed based on the ever building ecstasy you felt in my body.
"i'm gonna, i'm-fuck." you say cumming way quicker than you originally expected. he stands up with a wide, lustful smirk on his face and you sit up bringing his face to your, not caring that he was just face deep in your pussy.
"i want you." you say grabbing onto his face as you break apart. you feel him unclasp your bra and you free yourself of it.
"have me." he says, backing away and removing his boxers, stroking his dick a few times. he pulls your legs apart and bends your knees close to your chest. he looks down lining himself up with your entrance and he begins to push in slowly.
"god fuck." you say gripping onto the sheets. you had fucked a few guys but no one near the size of jamie.
"do you want me all the way in or do you need a second?"
"all the way, just wait until i tell you to move."
"whatever you want baby." he says, pushing a significant amount of dick all the way into you.
"you're so big jamie." you say gritting my teeth. he leans over, placing his hands on either side of your head.
"we don't have to do this." he says.
"no no i want to, so bad." you say kissing him desperately again. once you feel comfortable with his size you nod signaling for him to move. he begins thrusting his hips slowly, completely filling you up with each push.
"you feel so good y/n." he says huffing between words. you place your hands on his back as he begins to pick up his speed very slowly. never once had a man ever made you feel the way jamie is making you feel. the euphoric feelings you were experiencing was almost over stimulating. by the time he reaches a quick pace, your nails are digging into his back.
"so so good for me baby." he says continuing his pace yet kissing you so lovingly.
"oh my god jamie i'm close." your voice comes out in a whisper close to his ear.
"yeah that's my girl right there." he says, somehow deepening his thrusts sending your eyes shooting into the back of my head. your walls begin to clench around him knowing you would be reaching your second climax very soon.
"oh fuck fuck." you say finally releasing the built up pressure in my abdomen.
"i'm almost there." he says fucking you right through my orgasm, moments later feeling his warm seed spilling into you.
"fuck oh my god." you say as he lays down on your chest, staying inside of you. he kisses up your chest up to your lips leaving a smile on your face. he pulls out and grabs all of your clothes off the floor, tossing them into his hamper.
"let me get you cleaned up and grab you some clean clothes." he says kissing you on the cheek before going into his bathroom to soak a rag with warm water to wipe you clean.
you lean up to go dig into your bag that was coincidentally already in his room and he stops you.
"no stay there, ill get it." he says digging into your bag, grabbing only your spare underwear before digging into his drawers for a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. he hands them to you one by one as you put them on.
"so beautiful." he says, sounding completely sober, knowing he's not. you blush at his words, still buzzing from the alcohol.
"what are you gonna tell everyone?" you ask getting under his covers.
"i'm gonna go tell them you were sick so i helped you shower and put you in bed so im gonna stay in here with you."
"oh, okay." you smile not expecting him to want to stay up here with you.
"i'll be right back okay? get comfortable." he says shutting the door behind him. a few short minutes later he returns to his room smiling.
"you didn't tell anyone did you?"
"no no don't worry. they think it's sweet that i want to help you."
"well you didn't help me in the way they think." you wink at him and he laughs, joining you in bed. he pulls you over to lay on his chest as you sat in silence for a few moments.
"so what now?" you ask quietly.
"what do you mean?"
"is this just a fuck and done thing or like what's next?" you repeat.
"y/n, i like you. my feelings for you have grown by miles tonight." he says rubbing his hand up and down your back underneath the shirt. all you can do is lean up and smile at him.
"you like me?" you giggle.
"yeah i do." he smiles back.
"prove it." you say with a fake attitude. he gently pulls you by your chin and kisses you deeply.
"was that enough proof for you?" he laughs.
"i think so." you blush, "i like you a lot too by the way."
"prove it." he says mocking you and you roll my eyes, locking your lips with his, your hand placed delicately on his cheek.
"was that enough proof for you?" you reply mocking him this time nuzzling your head into his neck.
"¡ would say yes." he replies holding you closer as you drift off into a peaceful sleep together for the first time.
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stardustpr1ncess · 1 month
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Bonzle is 100% without a shadow of a doubt a trans allegory. People have been trying their best to say Sora isn't transcoded, but Bonzle is 2 scenes away from looking at the camera and saying "Hello. I'm a trans allegory." I shall now go into detail on every piece of evidence for this claim because fuck you.
EPISODE 5: Bonzle is afraid of how her found family will react to learning she's a spell (trans) and worries she will be rejected because of it. Easy parallel to trans people being afraid of revealing they're trans post transition. There's also her conversation with Bitch Boy Master Wu, with her saying she feels great loneliness, and only after gaining a physical form (transitioning) she feels happy and her true self. Very common trans experience. Gonna also put all of the quotes for my evidence as well since I know there's transphobes (filth) that like Ninjago and will be scrambling to deny it when people start coming to this conclusion too.
"Bonzle: I-- I was afraid of what you'd think if you knew about my past... Wu: It's called loneliness... Bonzle: I feel like, for the first time ever, I've become who I was destined to be... Bonzle: I was afraid if you found out I wasn't a real person, you wouldn't want me to be in our family anymore."
EPISODE 6: Bonzle is apprehensive about meeting with Gandalaria, seeing as how she's only known Bonzle as a spell, aka pre transition. She worries if she will respect her identity, much like how actual trans people fear how their family, more specifically a parental figure, would react. Bit of a light episode but an important aspect, here's the quotes;
"Bonzle: The Sorceress. She only knows me as a spell. What if she doesn't believe in me as a real person?"
EPISODE 7: This episode is the sauce. Bonzle is reunited with Gandalaria and their conversation is nothing short of magical. Gandalaria immediately recognizes Bonzle, saying she was her greatest creation and had always hoped she'd come home, shattering Bonzle's fears. It's a fantastic contrast, showing how this interaction can go well for some people, while others get an interaction much more akin to Sora's parents. When she's informed of Bonzle's chosen name, Gandalaria immediately starts using it, saying it's a great name. However, for that juicy authenticity, Gandalaria accidentally says spell before quickly correcting herself saying Bonzle. IT'S LITERALLY SO FUCKING OBVIOUS BONZLE'S BONES MIGHT AS WELL BE BLUE PINK AND WHITE. Oh yeah, here's the paragraph of quotes;
"Gandalaria: It's you! My dearest! You've come home! Bonzle: You... You recognize me? Even in my boney physical form? Gandalaria: Oh, I would know your true essence anywhere. Bonzle: I was so afraid you wouldn't accept me for who I am now. Gandalaria Are you kidding? I put my heart, my soul into every spell I weave... The most complex spell I've ever woven, and the first of my creations to ever come back to me!.. Bonzle: I'm Bonzle. That's the name I chose when I became a person. Gandalaria: Well, that's a splendid name... If this Ras times it right, he could reverse the power spell-- uh, Bonzle here--."
EPISODE 9: This episodes importance comes from Jordana, who acts EXACTLY how transphobes do. She constantly calls her a spell (some sort of derogatory term), says she's playing person (like pretending to be a girl), and says she's helping her do what she was made for, like transphobes very creepy beliefs in reproduction. Literally you half expect Jordana to ask which bathroom Bonzle uses since she was a spell. THE QUOTES;
"Jordana: Settle down, spell. I don't know what you think you've been doing, playing person with your fake family, but I know your true purpose... You should thank us. We're helping you to do what you were created to do."
In conclusion the silly lego skeleton girl is one of them spooky transgenders. Lmk if there's anything I missed. Thank you for reading.
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Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:
J, mafia AU, smut, ring
You know how I like it 😉😘
Mickala!!! 😍😭💖
Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!
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Coup d'etat
Rated: E
Words: 999
Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con
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“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”
Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.
“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?” 
Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes. 
“The bedroom, Eddie?”
“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”
*
A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin. 
“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”
Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes. 
“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”
Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.
“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?” 
“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”
The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles. 
“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”
The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.
“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.” 
Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes. 
“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.” 
Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.
“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.” 
Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing. 
“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?” 
“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-” 
Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence. 
“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-” 
“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”  
Eddie blinks. 
“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.” 
Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up. 
“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”
Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings. 
“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut. 
Eddie's smile slips. 
“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.” 
“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?” 
Eddie's mouth twists into a grin. 
“We both know that's how you like it, honey.” 
He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.
“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?” 
“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.” 
Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch. 
“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.” 
“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.” 
Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!” 
“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”
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More celebration ficlets
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praisethegabs · 8 months
Text
FREAK
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Re2r!Leon x Scientist!Reader
synopsis: Leon is a test subject, a freak. He can't remember the world outside, and he doesn't have any notion of time. All he knows is pain. He doesn't have any hope left. He knows he'll die in there, completely alone, traumatized and scared. Until he meets you, the new leading supervisor.
warnings: angst, mentions of torture, blood, psychological abuse, trust issues, umbrella being umbrella. If you feel uncomfortable with this type of subject, DO NOT read it.
word count: 5106k
a/n: i got inspired by the c.ai bot from driftedlovers and made my own version after weeks chatting with the said bot. dividers are from @cafekitsune ♡
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some people survive chaos, and this is how they grow. and some people thrive in chaos because chaos is all they know (unknown author)
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Inside the white walls, Leon had no idea how the day was outside, if it was cold, raining, or if it was a sunny day.
He had no windows. All he could see was white every day.
He was there for so long that he barely remembered anything from the outside. His last memory from the world outside was something blue until he woke up inside that padded room.
Now, Leon used to be experimented with almost every day.
He hated when those doctors went inside his room to take him somewhere else. He knew he would feel pain and return to his room with new open wounds, purple marks, and blood. Why? He can't answer.
The only thing he knew was that he was kidnapped by Umbrella. He was their lab rat. A helpless man who was abused and experimented every single day. They didn't care about him at all. He tried to escape a thousand times, but he failed every single one of them.
Today, however, was the worst.
Leon came back from another round of tests and experiments, and he was bleeding a lot. His entire body seemed to be burning with excruciating pain. He was on the verge of tears. He crawled to his bed, his body shaking. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine somewhere peaceful, where he couldn't be hurt or touched by those monsters.
His eyes were about to cry when he heard someone walking inside. He slowly opened his eyes, his heart already beating faster inside his chest with pure fear. He was hoping to be one of the scientists, ready to take him again to the room.
But it wasn't one of the monsters.
"Hey" you said gently at him, your hand holding a first aid kit. "May I?"
You were pointing to his side, he followed your finger to his direction and with those scared eyes, he slightly nodded his head. Leon was taught — in the painful method — he wasn't allowed to talk with the scientists, only to talk when he was spoken to, and he could only say "yes, sir" or "yes, ma'am".
"I'm not gonna hurt you" You smiled very friendly at him, getting closer and kneeling next to his side. "It's okay, you can talk to me. I'm not gonna punish you"
"Who are you?" Leon asked, his voice full of suspicious and fear. You knew he was scared. You actually could tell he was terrified.
"I'm a cool and friendly scientist" You smiled and noticed that his eyes were on your ID, where he could read your name. "I'm the new supervisor. I saw that your ID is Experiment N⁰ One, but I'm not interested in titles and IDs. Can you tell me your name?"
Leon was now shocked. All the time he was in there, no one cared to know his name. To them, he was just a freak, an abomination. A lab rat. But you, you weren't like the others. You were the first person to show him kindness.
"I'm... Leon" he said, and the sound of his own name made him think he almost forgot who he was.
"Nice to meet you, Leon" You smiled again, stretching your hand so he could shake it. You noticed his arm full of scars, new cuts, and blood. "Let's take a look at those injuries, shall we?"
Leon watched you cautiously, his eyes filled with suspicion and fear. He had learned the hard way not to trust anyone in this place. But there was something about your demeanor that made him hesitate. You seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being.
You carefully cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch surprisingly gentle. As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes and spoke in a reassuring tone,
"You don't have to be afraid of me, Leon. I'm here to help, not to hurt." You said gently, using a wet cotton to clean one of his wounds.
You began to clean his wounds with a gentle touch, the antiseptic sting a harsh reminder of his painful existence. Leon winced as you tended to a particularly deep gash on his arm. Then, as if unable to contain his thoughts any longer, he spoke in a soft, broken voice.
"I miss the outside world," he admitted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't understand why they're using us for these cruel and painful experiments. We're humans, not lab rats."
You paused for a moment, your hands still on his injured arm. Your eyes met his, filled with a mixture of empathy and helplessness.
"I know, Leon," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I wish I had answers for you, but I'm just as much a pawn in this as you are. All I can do is try to ease your pain."
Leon went silent again. He had every reason to be suspicious towards you, and you couldn't blame him for this. Although your touch was gentle, and you moved with a quiet assurance that contrasted with the harsh, you could still feel the clinical atmosphere of the facility. Leon couldn't help but be suspicious, a feeling he had grown accustomed to over time.
As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes, the deep-rooted mistrust that had taken hold of him after countless experiments and cruel treatment. You paused again for a moment, looking into his eyes with genuine concern.
"Leon," you began softly, "I can see that you're scared, and you have every reason to be. But I want you to know that I'm different. I'm not like the others who have come before me."
Leon regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. He had heard similar promises in the past, only to be let down.
"I promise you, Leon, I'll be back to keep you some company. You're not just an experiment here. And I believe in treating you with the respect and kindness you deserve." You continued, yourr voice unwavering.
Leon studied your face, searching for any hint of deception, but he found none. Perhaps it was the sincerity in your eyes, or maybe it was the exhaustion of isolation that made him yearn for human connection once more.
"Okay," Leon whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. "I'll be here."
"I'll be back, Leon. You're not alone in this anymore." You smiled, a glimmer of warmth in the cold, white, and sterile room.
With that promise, you finished cleaning Leon's wounds and left the room, leaving him with a newfound sense of anticipation and a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. He was wondering why you were so kind at him because he was betrayed before. He had no reason to trust you.
Leon lay on the bed of his room, the sterile walls bearing silent witness to his torment. The memory of your unexpected kindness lingered in his mind like a flickering candle in the dark. He couldn't help but wonder why you had been different from the others, why you had chosen to treat his wounds with care.
His thoughts churned with suspicion and confusion. The trauma of the countless painful experiments he had endured had left him scarred, both physically and mentally. He had learned to trust no one in this sterile prison, where cruelty was the norm.
As Leon's mind raced, his heart pounded with anxiety. He questioned whether your kindness had been genuine or if it was merely a cruel ploy to manipulate him further. The fear that he had been fooled gnawed at him, twisting his already frayed nerves into tighter knots.
Hours turned into days, and Leon's stress and paranoia grew. He replayed every interaction with you in his mind, dissecting your words and actions for any signs of deceit. But the more he thought, the less he understood. You seemed genuinely different, but how could he be sure?
In the suffocating silence of his padded room, Leon's thoughts became a torment of their own. He longed for answers for a sliver of hope to cling to, but the shadows of doubt and fear loomed large. All he could do was wait, haunted by the uncertainty of your true intentions and the relentless trauma that had brought him to this point.
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You were so busy during the weeks that you had no time to see anybody.
You were full with paperwork to do, files to read, and new reports to send to oversight. One file took all of your attention; it was the one from Leon. That said file had every report from the tests he was submitted into and what every supervisor before you did to him. You brought his file to your home. You needed to understand his condition better. All you knew was that he was there for years and he probably couldn't remember his own age. He was taken into the lab at a very young age, and he had no contact with the exterior.
No family, no friends. He was an orphan.
That's why he was the perfect subject for Umbrella. If he died, no one would come crying to collect his body. He had excellent grades at school, and he aspired to be a cop, which was according to his essays; Leon had everything the scientists were looking for, and that's why he was abducted so young. The sad part?
That boy was broken inside and out. His file had pictures of him being tested, naked, and exposed to a lot of painful experiments. They were doing atrocities with him, and now you could understand why he was looking terrified at you.
He was, at one point, drugged and abused. Those scientists under your supervision did a lot of things on him, and the more you read his file, the more disgusted you felt.
As you read through the file, your heart ached for Leon. You had met him only a few days ago, but in that short time, you had seen glimpses of the pain and trauma that haunted him. Now, with this file in your hands, you finally understood the full extent of his suffering.
The decision was clear in your mind.
You had to befriend him and offer him solace and support. In his condition, being manipulated, tortured and abused, hidden from the world, and unable to see the sun, Leon needed someone who wouldn't hurt him, someone who would stand by his side. You knew you had to do something. You needed time.
It was true that you were tired of everything you did for Umbrella Corporation.
Your soul was tainted with the horrors you made in the name of science. At least, you were trying to convince yourself you were doing good, even knowing you were actually drowned in chaos, your mind always remembering you that you were actually hurting others. You hated yourself every day.
You barely could look at your own image in the mirror.
At first, you were happy. After all, you have always been a loyal employee of Umbrella Corporation, working diligently in their research division. It was a prestigious job, one that paid well and provided you with a comfortable life. But it had also demanded your silence and your complicity in the face of questionable experiments and ethically dubious decisions.
But that thought changed after a year.
Suddenly, that beautiful image you had from them twisted into something dark and horrible. You had to face the truth, and it was crushing you.
You felt only shame and guilt. And it was burning you inside, and you couldn't sleep at night. Your conscience was heavy with everything you did for them, and now, you had one small opportunity to make things right. You had a small window, and you needed to act quickly.
After you arrived at the lab, the first thing you did was walk to his room. The security was high, but your ID card let you walk inside without any problem. And he was there. His white clothes had small spots of dried blood, and he seemed to be sleeping. You sighed.
"You came back" you hear him say, his voice surprised, and somehow, he wasn't so scared of you anymore.
"I told you I would come back. I'm sorry if I took long enough" you said, taking small steps towards him, because you don't know if he'll let you get closer.
"Why are you here?" Leon asks, and then you can notice he's fully aware and suspicious towards you. "Why do you care so much about me?"
"Let's just say... I want to make things right" you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
"I don't buy it" Leon looks at you, his eyes full of doubts and fears. Of course, he wouldn't trust you immediately. You needed to earn him first.
"I know, and you have every reason to do so. But I don't mind spending my time trying to convince you I mean no harm" you said, taking another step closer, as your hands lay next to your body to let him know you're telling the truth. "I'm the cool scientist, remember?"
Leon smirked, but it was a sarcastic one.
"All the others told me the same bullshit and look what happened to me!" He almost shouts, his voice sounds angry. "At the end of the day, you are all the same, and I end up bleeding with a new scar"
The tension in the room was palpable, like an electric charge in the air. Leon stood on one side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes locked in a steely glare. On the other side of the room, you were facing him with a calm determination that belied the storm raging within you.
"Leon, I need you to understand something," you finally began, your voice steady and resolute. "I said it before, but I won't hurt you. I know you don't trust me, but I promise you, I'm not here to harm you."
Leon's jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his distrust evident in every fiber of his being. He had been through too much in his life to simply trust someone, especially someone like you, who was a relative stranger.
"You're just like the others" Leon muttered, his voice a low growl. "And you're here only to bring me more pain"
"I know you've been let down in the past, Leon. But I want to help you. I believe in you, and I'm committed to seeing you well" You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to break through Leon's wall of suspicion.
Leon's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and uncertainty. He had heard promises like this before, and they had always led to disappointment. He couldn't afford to be let down again, not when so much was at stake.
"Why should I believe you?" Leon demanded, his voice rising.
You took a step closer, closing the physical gap between the both of you, but realizing that the emotional gap was still vast.
"Because I've been where you are, Leon. I've faced my own demons and fought my own battles. I know what it's like to be in a dark place, and I want to be the light that guides you out of it." You said to him, your voice still showing respect and kindness.
Leon's anger seemed to waver, but he wasn't ready to let his guard down completely.
"Actions speak louder than words," he said, his voice softer now, but still laced with doubt.
"You're absolutely right, Leon. I can make promises all day, but it's my actions that will prove my sincerity. Give me a chance to show you that I mean what I say." You nodded in understanding.
As you extended your hand toward Leon, he hesitated for a moment before reluctantly reaching out to shake it. Your hands met, and in that simple gesture, a fragile bridge of trust began to form. You knew that gaining Leon's trust would be a long and challenging journey, but you were determined to prove to him that you are different, that you were there to help him heal, not hurt him.
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Two months had passed by since your first meeting, and that day, you told him you weren't there to hurt him.
And every since that day, Leon still had trouble to trust you, despite all the attempts to befriend him. You were trying, and you knew you were getting in there. Slowly, but effective.
Leon had become all too familiar with the routine of his daily experiments. Each morning, they would escort him down the cold, sterile hallways of the facility, his heart heavy with dread. The scientists, faceless behind their masks and lab coats, were relentless in their pursuit of knowledge, no matter the cost.
Today was different, though. As they strapped him onto the cold metal table, he felt a shiver of apprehension. The restraints were tighter, the needles sharper, and the machines more ominous. Leon's breath quickened as he watched them prepare the apparatus, their voices hushed in clinical conversation.
"Definitely a freak" one of them muttered, and the other laughed. "I mean... look at him. Looks like a walking corpse or whatever he looks like"
Leon was also used to the mean comments they made about him. It was easy for them to mock him. After all, they didn't starve the way Leon did. They weren't underweight as he was, and, of course, they had a place to call home, where they could live a normal life — something that was taken from him.
The first shock sent searing pain coursing through his veins. Leon's body arched in agony, his screams echoing off the sterile walls. He clenched his fists, trying to endure the torment, but his willpower crumbled with each successive jolt.
Hours passed, or maybe it was mere minutes, but to Leon, it felt like an eternity. He lost track of time as they pushed him beyond his limits, subjecting him to doses of needles, shocks, burns, and the ice room. The pain was excruciating, and he wondered how much more his frail body could endure.
Finally, they released him from the restraints, and Leon fell to the cold, hard floor. He was drenched in sweat, his body trembling with the aftermath of the ordeal. His mind was a fog of agony, and he struggled to make sense of his surroundings as they dragged him back to his padded room.
As they locked the heavy door behind him, Leon crumpled to the ground, more hurt than he had ever been before. The pain was unbearable, but there was something else too — an overwhelming sense of despair. He knew that tomorrow would bring another round of experiments, and he was trapped in this never-ending nightmare with no hope of escape.
The harsh, buzzing fluorescent lights above Leon's padded room flickered as the heavy door creaked open. Suddenly, you stepped inside, your footsteps muted by the cushioned floor. You carried a small medical kit and wore a look of sympathy that clashed with your usual clinical demeanor. Something that both of you were used to do, since you were promoted to supervision.
Leon lay on the floor, his body battered and broken from the day's experiments. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his face was contorted with pain. Silently, you knelt beside him, your gloved hands gentle as yoi began to assess his injuries.
The room was cold, the sterile walls offering no comfort. You worked in silence, tending to Leon's wounds with meticulous care that seemed out of place in this cold, heartless facility. You cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch as tender as it was professional.
As you worked, Leon's eyes filled with tears. He had endured so much, and the pain had become his constant companion. But it was your expected kindness that broke the dam. The tears streamed down his face, and he choked back sobs, unable to contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed him.
You paused in your ministrations, your eyes meeting Leon's with a mixture of understanding and sorrow. You didn't say a word, but your presence alone offered a glimmer of humanity in this otherwise soulless place.
Leon's sobs became louder, and his body was now jointing. He felt pain, and he was truly scared. He couldn't hold his feelings anymore.
"Please, you have to help me. They... they won't stop. I can't take it anymore." Leon's tears flowed freely now as he looked up at you, his voice choked with pain and desperation.
Gently, you set aside your medical supplies and leaned closer to him, your voice soft and soothing.
"It's going to be okay, Leon," you whispered. "I promise you, I'll find a way to end your suffering. You don't deserve this. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure this ends".
"I... I can't do this anymore..." Leon sobs again, not caring with you seeing his tears. He was desperate. "Please..."
You sighed heavily, your heart aching with the sight of him hurt like that. You needed to help him. You needed to do something.
"I'll see what I can do" you whispered, then you wiped the tears from his eyes. "Now, take some rest"
Leon cried until he fell asleep, curled with his blanket. When you saw him like that, you knew you were done with Umbrella and everything they did. Something was forming inside your mind; a plan? An escape route? Where would you take him? How?
You had a lot of questions and, unfortunately, no answers.
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Over the next weeks, you started to prepare your escape. You already had your resignation letter written and a safe location to take Leon. You even took a weekend off just to prepare the place to take him. You had medical supplies, clothes, food, and everything you both would need.
It was risky, but you needed to try.
You had secretly collected a stash of supplies over the months, carefully hidden away in the recesses of your country house. You knew the facility's routines and security measures like the back of your hand. You had observed the guards' shifts and the vulnerabilities in their surveillance. You were more than prepared.
This would be the night.
When you went inside his room, he wasn't there. You checked his schedule and saw he was — again — in the experiment room. You had finally reached your breaking point. You couldn't bear to see Leon's suffering continue any longer.
Leon's condition had deteriorated to the point where he could barely move, let alone stand. You knew you had to act swiftly and decisively. You had already obtained a wheelchair, hidden away in a storage closet for weeks, just waiting for the right moment. You walk inside the building, trying to find the right room. Your mind and heart racing with thousand of thoughts.
Until you hear him.
Strapped to a cold metal table, he braced himself for the pain he knew was coming. The first shock hit him like a lightning bolt, searing through his body and causing his muscles to convulse. Leon clenched his teeth, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to endure. The room echoed with his screams, a symphony of suffering that went unheard beyond these walls.
"Stop this experiment now!" You commanded, your voice cutting through the chaos as you burst into the room.
"But... why?" One of the scientists asks, confused.
"I've made a new schedule. He's not going to be tested today" you replied harshly.
The scientists froze, their instruments suspended mid-air. You hurried to Leon's side, releasing him from his restraints with urgency. You spared no time in scooping him up gently, cradling his trembling body in your arms.
"But what are we supposed to do now?" The same scientist asked again, still confused.
"There's another test subject. You can use them" you said, helping Leon stand up.
Saying that, you carried him out of the experiment room, Leon's vision blurred, and he could barely comprehend what was happening. He clung to the sensation of being held, of being rescued from the torment he was passing through.
You took him back to his padded room, laying him down on the bed. You knelt beside him, your expression a mix of sympathy and anger.
"Rest now, Leon," you said softly, brushing his hair away from his tear-stained face. "I won't let them hurt you like this anymore. This will end today, I promise"
Leon tried to mutter something, but he was so tired that his words were beyond comprehension. You went back to your office, just waiting for the perfect time.
You were nervous, and anyone could tell that you were more aggressive than usual, despite the fact that you were always kind to everyone. This plan needed to work, or both of you would definitely die. Your eyes were glued to the watch in your wall, and the time seemed to freeze.
Your heart ached, and you felt anxious.
When the clock finally turned midnight, you knew what you needed to do. Silently, with a heavy heart, you approached Leon's padded room, your pulse quickening with each step. You had prepared a syringe with a sedative, a necessary measure to keep him asleep and prevent him from experiencing any more pain.
Entering the room, you saw Leon lying on the padded bed, his eyes hollow and empty. His frail body was a mere shell of what it had once been, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow for him. You administered the sedative with a gentle touch, whispering soothing words to him as he slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Carefully, you lifted Leon's limp form and gently placed him in the wheelchair. You secured him with the safety straps, ensuring he wouldn't fall during their escape. Then you wheeled him out of the room, moving with purpose through the corridors, your heart heavy with the weight of your escape plan.
As you both approached your car parked discreetly in the shadows, you couldn't help but glance back at the facility you both were leaving behind — a place of horrors, pain, and despair. You had made a difficult choice, one that would change both of your lives forever, but you were determined to keep Leon safe, even if it meant going to great lengths to do so.
With Leon sedated and safely secured in the wheelchair, you carefully loaded him into your car, your eyes never leaving his peaceful, albeit frail form.
"I've got you" you whispered, covering his weak body with a blanket and then closing the door.
The night was a tapestry of stars above as you drove, your eyes fixed on the darkened road ahead. Hours stretched on, the miles slipping away beneath the tires of your car. In the back seat, Leon lay motionless, a fragile figure in the interior, protected by the cozy blanket and the warm air.
Every so often, you stole a glance at the rearview mirror, your worry etched on your face. You constantly checked on him to make sure he was still asleep and unharmed. His breathing was steady, a reassuring rhythm amidst the uncertainty of your journey.
The countryside passed by in a blur of shadowy trees and moonlit fields. You kept driving, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing as the miles between you two and the lab grew. You couldn't help but think about the risk you had taken, the consequences if you were caught, but the determined look in Leon's eyes when he had awakened for a brief moment had given you the strength to carry on.
Finally, you two arrived at your country house, a remote sanctuary nestled far from prying eyes. You parked the car in the driveway and carefully opened the back door. Leon remained peacefully asleep, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.
Gently, she took him from the car to the wheelchair, your arms trembling with the weight of his frail form. You took him into the cozy house, the scent of pine and wood welcoming them. You placed him in a comfortable bed, covering him with a warm blanket.
You watched over him for a while, relief washing over you as you saw that he was still sleeping peacefully. You knew this new journey was far from over, that you both had many challenges ahead, but in this moment, under the soft moonlight that filtered through the curtains, Leon was safe.
As exhaustion finally caught up with you, you settled into a chair in the room, your eyes never leaving Leon's slumbering figure. You were determined to protect him, to give him a chance at a life free from the horrors of the lab.
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of the country house, casting a gentle glow on the room. Leon began to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. Confusion washed over him as he realized he was no longer in the familiar confines of the lab.
Panic welled up within him, and he tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy and weak. As he struggled, tears welled up in his eyes, and he cried out in despair.
You had been dozing in a nearby chair, tired that you fell asleep quickly, then you awoke with a start. You rushed to Leon's side, your voice filled with soothing reassurance.
"Leon, it's alright. You're safe now. You're not in the lab anymore." You tell him, your voice calm and kind.
"I... I can't believe it," he stammered, his voice trembling. "Is this real?" Leon's breaths came in ragged sobs as he looked at you, his eyes searching for the truth in your words.
You nodded, your eyes filled with empathy.
"Yes, it's real," you whispered. "You're free now, Leon. No more experiments, no more pain."
Tears streamed down Leon's cheeks as he absorbed the reality of his situation. He had spent so long in that nightmarish place that the idea of escape had seemed impossible. But here, in this tranquil room, with you by his side, hope blossomed within him. You reached out and gently brushed the tears from his face.
"It's okay to cry, Leon," you said softly. "You've been through so much. But now, we're going to build a new life together, away from the lab."
As Leon's sobs gradually subsided, he clung to your words, the promise of a brighter future. In your compassionate presence, he began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he could leave the horrors of the lab behind and find a life filled with warmth and kindness.
Leon finally felt the sun touching his skin. Finally, he was allowed to see the sunrise and to see the world again.
He was free.
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poohsources · 8 months
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🐝  *  ―  𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
❛  if we changed back then, we could change again.  ❜ ❛  what can i say? i'm a sucker for happy endings.  ❜ ❛  i'm sorry, are you talking to me?  ❜ ❛  i would give anything to be like that.  ❜ ❛  are we gonna have a problem?  ❜ ❛  you've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?  ❜ ❛  time for you to prove you're not a loser anymore.  ❜ ❛  you can join the team or you can bitch and moan.  ❜ ❛  mr. no-name kid, say who might you be?  ❜ ❛  it's fine if you don't agree, but i would fight for you if you would fight for me.  ❜ ❛  happiness comes when everything numbs.  ❜ ❛  does your mommy know you eat all this crap?  ❜ ❛  i learned to cook pasta, i learned to pay rent; i learned the world doesn't owe you a cent.  ❜ ❛  you heard it man, it's time to rage!  ❜ ❛  so wait, it's lime, then salt, then shot?  ❜ ❛  you're doing it wrong!  ❜ ❛  really? 'cause i feel great.  ❜ ❛  dreams are coming true when people laugh but not at you!  ❜ ❛  i didn't need your help.  ❜ ❛  i can't believe you actually came.  ❜ ❛  why d'you gotta be so weird all the time? people wouldn't hate you so much if you acted normal.  ❜ ❛  thirty hours to live - how shall i spend them?  ❜ ❛  sorry, but i really had to wake you.  ❜ ❛  let's go you know the drill; i'm hot and pissed and on the pill.  ❜ ❛  you say you're numb inside but i can't agree.  ❜ ❛  how'd you find my address?  ❜ ❛  no sleep tonight for you, better chug that mountain dew.  ❜ ❛  no one sees the me inside of me.  ❜ ❛  keep going. this has to be good enough to fool the cops.  ❜ ❛  i never knew about her pain.  ❜ ❛  don't talk mean like that.  ❜ ❛  what did they do to you that you hate them so?  ❜ ❛  you are the only thing that's right about this broken world.  ❜ ❛  they'll die because we say they must.  ❜ ❛  what the fuck have you done?!  ❜ ❛  let's be normal. see bad movies, sneak a beer, and watch tv.  ❜ ❛  don't you want a life with me?  ❜ ❛  if you could let me in, i could be good with you.  ❜ ❛  so what's it gonna be? i wanna be with you.  ❜ ❛  but your love's too good to lose.  ❜ ❛  you're the one i choose.  ❜ ❛  there's nowhere to hide if i say the wrong thing.  ❜ ❛  but i believe any dream worth having is a dream that should not have to end.  ❜ ❛  no, you wouldn't understand!  ❜ ❛  try me! i've experienced everything you're going through right now.  ❜ ❛  you don't know what my world looks like!  ❜ ❛  they made you blind, messed up your mind but i can set you free.  ❜ ❛  i was meant to be yours!  ❜ ❛  don't give up on me now.  ❜ ❛  i can't make this alone! finish what we've begun.  ❜ ❛  i am all that you need.  ❜ ❛  please don't leave me alone. you were all i could trust, i can't do this alone.  ❜ ❛  no one here deserves to die except for me and the monster i created.  ❜ ❛  i wish we met before they convinced you life is war.  ❜ ❛  i wish you'd come with me ...  ❜ ❛  i am damaged, far too damaged, but you're not beyond repair.  ❜ ❛  hope you'll miss me, wish you'd kiss me.  ❜ ❛  i'd be honored if you'd let me be your friend.  ❜
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bsverryin · 9 months
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: ̗̀➛ How Genshin men talks about you as their s/o
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Who?
╰┈➤ Diluc, Xiao, Childe, Alhaitham,Kazuha, Zhongli
Situation?
╰┈➤ how would they describe you
✎ HEADCANONS ONLY!! this headcanon is gonna be my way to show my appreciations for all of you and for the people who has the words of affirmation as their love language, I'm really grateful that you guys read my stories <;3 enjoyy
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Diluc doesn't like to talk much, but if he hears his friends or customers talking about you, he will listen and correct them if they are wrong. It makes him glad to know he isn't the only one who thinks you're talented and lovely. "How would you describe Y/n? Master Diluc?" A costumer asked, He turned to look at the costumer, It was Diluc's free time. "Y/n?" He giggled right when you came into his mind. "Y/n is lovely, she makes me forget all the things I needed to do as when I'm by her side, it seems as if I've achieved whatever I wanted. No, I'm mistaken; I don't simply like her to want her; I need her. My entire existence revolves entirely on Y/n and only Y/n."
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Zhongli was writing while sipping his coffee, He missed writing and you're in front of him waiting for him to finish whatever he was writing, you admired him for a while. "I'm finished, shall we go?" He said. "I thought you're gonna read me the thing that you were writing." He smiled and gave it to you, you opened the note revealing a pretty hand writing and pretty words. "Every time I touch her, I'm caressing a star, every time I speak to her, I'm speaking to a divine. If she ever was a god, worshipping her wouldn't be enough."
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Alhaitham is quite different. He talks typically directly most of the time, but when it comes to you, he becomes cautious with his words so he doesn't say something that could hurt you. "How often do you think of Ms Y/n?" An akademian asked, it was for their research. It wasn't hard persuading alhaitham to answer them because he loved talking about you. "There is no day where I don't think of her, I had no idea I was capable of the word love; she encourages me to do better. Every time I look at Y/n, I see a bright future for her, while she is my future."
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Kazuha admires you in every way possible and when it comes to talking about you, he'll make you into an art form with his poetry and pick the right words. "What did you feel when you first saw Ms. Y/n?" A kid around inazuma asked. The kid was really impressed with your love story together. "I knew from the moment I met her in a warm bay of sunlight that she was sun, the sun that I sought as I could feel her warmth. I owe every one of my smiles to Y/n."
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Xiao is also not a great talker; he prefers to keep everything private, but when he does speak, he has a talent for choosing the proper words for you. "Y/n is really pretty! Right?" A person beside him said. "Right." His tone softened "I was used to darkness till I met Y/n, she didn't want me to be in the dark all the time, she'd offer me light, I hope she knows that she is the light herself."
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Childe He loves to hear your name, especially when his other friends mention you and how well you two look together. He always talks about how you complete him and have changed him for the better, childe would never get tired of talking about you expect that it's gonna be cheesy, that's how he express his love. "What is Y/N to you?" A friend of him asked. "Y/n is the person I want to spend my future with; she's an artist herself, and she enjoys showing me her arts. I didn't know someone was capable of making an art while being an art herself."
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nexusnyx · 1 year
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Hello🥰 It's not a request per say, but I'm really curious what's one of your favorite Joel headcanons if it's ok to share it now? Your writing is amazing, thank you for sharing it with us!
Jules, I am so glad you asked this question. I've been dying to just talk about the things Joel Miller enjoys.
(Also, thank you so much?! It means the world you enjoy my writing! <3)
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Starting from the top, shall we? Pre-outbreak Joel Miller, well..
He's reserved only to people he doesn't trust. If you don't know a thing about Joel Miller, you better bet Joel doesn't like your ass.
Worry not about miscommunication—that's a word his vocabulary lacks. Whatever he feels or not for you, he'll make it known. Unless you're his old neighbors, Joel has no qualms about keeping shit to himself. He'll just say it.
His mouth got him into trouble when he was younger. Often.
It's why he learned to react in his mind first, speak later. Too bad his face gives away his feelings anyway.
Speaking of feelings... Joel Miller is a romantic. Big, big time. It's why he's single after all these years and Sarah's mom — "if it ain't the right thing, I don't want it."
Joel's not scared of being alone because he likes his own company. It's why he values so much when he finds another one he enjoys, too. He appreciates real connections. Good conversation.
Hates small talk. Will not do it. Will get away with doing it 9/10 times.
Blood is made of caffeine, sandwiches, and take-out food, which is why...
He's a whore for home-cooked meals. He gets by on his own, but he doesn't have the heart for cooking. Tommy got those genes. Joel would sell his soul for home-cooked meals everyday, and he'll say it to whoever hears it.
Workaholic only because he wants to put Sarah through a good university, but when she complains about the lack of time she has with her father, he compromises. Hires more people, tries to balance work and Sarah.
Balance is not really his expertise. But Joel's good at compromising. Rationalizing. He's a man of structure, of building things from scratch—he knows the value of firm, solid base.
Not really a sports kind of guy, actually. He'll watch it, but... Shrugging it off. "I don't see what the big deal is over a ball. I mean — it's fun, but damn. Breaking windows and busting fists on walls ain't my thing. Not over a damn football, at least."
On the other hand... history buff. Over the strangest, weirdest, most specific topics. Joel has trouble naming three countries in Asia, but he can tell you in details everything about Mayan construction and their society. Go figure.
He's a man of taste. Good food, strong alcohol, fruit picked from the tree, and woman who let him sink to his knees and taste them 'till he's drunk on it. He's starving, quite often.
Joel's a tease.
He can play a game of chicken all night long. No fucks given about how hard he's straining in his jeans or the beads of sweat trailing from his nape down his spine — if you touch him when you two are out, he will make you live to regret it. To whine and cry his name.
Joel loves a playful thing. Seriousness is imbedded in his bones, he loves a person that can make him laugh.
His sense of humor is... peculiar.
("It's shite. You're sense of humor's the same as a fifty-six year old man, Joel." "You say that and yet, you're laughin'... how does that work, beautiful?")
You know his taste? His sharp tongue, his clever brain and quick fingers? Yeah... it makes him a cocky bastard.
Everything Joel has of insecurity, he equals in cockiness once he knows his person's attracted to him.
Reciprocity's big on him.
Joel pays attention to details. He'll remember the outfit you were wearing the day you two met 'till the day he dies, which is why he knows when he's in deep from miles away.
Loves being surprised, exactly because of this ^.
Joel loves through gestures, through words, through action.
Love language is touch, touch, words of affirmation, touch.
Never gonna half-ass anything that matters to him. Never.
Will play to you when he decides to confess his feelings. Will sing his heart out, even if he’s not that good at it (his words), will make himself vulnerable and open like a wound if he thinks he’s in safe hands.
One in a million. Joel’s one in a million and when the right person comes along to appreciate it, Joel only glows. Only glows up, and gets finer with each passing day, like a great wine.
(If you’d like me to do post-outbreak Joel, I could..)
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yeonhours · 5 months
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txt hyung line's ideal type
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GENRE fluff <3 i miss writing fluff content
WARNINGS none
REQUESTED nope but soft hours are open :)
BELLA'S NOTE 4 U ! guess who's back !! man i missed writing sm i'll continue writing again and i'm trying to get back into a routine
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SOOBIN .......
Someone authoritative and can take the lead role in the relationship  
As he himself has said that he doesn’t like to take lead in relationships on national television for god’s sake lmaoo . 
I have been over this a million times but since he is the leader he is expected to carry out so many responsibilities. 
He’s always looking out for his members , trying is hardest in whatever he does so he’d definitely be attracted to someone who can look after him 
He wants nothing but someone to hold him, play with his hair , feed him and check up on him frequently 
soobin is so cute when it comes to bf responsibilites i can promise you that he'll be the best you've ever had
hes your comfort person cuddling with him is like your therapy session at this point
very proud of you too, he's gonna somehow bring up your name atleast once a day
Soobin secretly adores you when you baby talk to him . Do it in front of the members he’d act like he is embarrassed by the entire situation but the moment he’s in the comfort of his room or a private space , it’s a different story 
He’d nuzzle into you when you coo at him , would smush his cheek against your palm when you talk sweetly to him , like he is a baby 
Soobin deserves the entire world , he’s literally the most cutest boy ever ! 
He goes crazy for a confident s/o , he literally looks at you with heart eyes if you dont take shit from people 
YEONJUN........
Yeonjun, according to me would only be attracted to someone who gives out the same energy as him 
I feel like he would be attracted to people who have the same standpoint in certain issues as him ?
plus it's a big no for him when they're very insecure with themselves and seek validation like all the time
He'd want a s/o who knows their worth and who does not constantly look out for validation from people around them
most likely to take a liking on people who do not take a shit from others and are confident and outgoing
also sometimes he needs them to be there for him too, he believes its a two way thing
The feeling of someone caring about him always makes butterflies swarm his stomach, he is so grateful for it. 
would be your biggest hype man on god he literally worships the ground u walk on
your bestie, your boyfie, a mother whos always dotting on you, your fashion influencer, your hype man
BEOMGYU.......
Beomgyu , my cute little bear he deserves the entire world and i’m ready to fight anyone who wants to disagree with me 
You know the saying that goes every extroverted person needs a introverted s/o and the same goes for beomgyu 
He loves if his s/o is shy , introverted and most often keeps it to themselves 
He loves being the only person to know the real you 
He would protect you under all costs , you are his everything and nothing shall ever harm you when beomgyu is there 
Always cooks for you , and makes sure you are eating well and not skipping any meals 
Makes hours long playlist and sends them to you , it is in some sort of way his love language 
He doesn't mind a less shy or an insecure s/o because what else his job ? he’s your bf and this is his primary duty , to be your best hype man
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blueparadis · 2 years
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❝ GOOD GIRL ❞ + AKI HAYAKAWA.
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+. CWs —» f!reader, m!oral, f→m receiving, cum-play, corruption k!nk; word count — 1kish
+. PRECIS —» Sometimes Aki takes a little advantage as your supervisor.
+. NOTES —» each and every brain cell is soaked in his thoughts which is quite shocking for me since I'm Yoshida stan but oh well we shall see; to read more of my works browse through navigation links.
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One and a half months of being under division four. One and a half months yet all he did was to howl orders to all the members in his unit. You didn't anticipate how you would end up working under him given the fact he was once your supervisor.
Aki was anything but professional. He shared his half burnt cigarettes, listened to your stories with rapt attention about how you ended up being from ordinary college girl to a devil hunter. Sometimes he would hit the bar with you and he did all of it in the name of breaking ‘rules are meant to be broken’.
If you were to tell these to anyone in his unit they would probably think you were talking about someone else but fortunately you don't have a habit of rambling if things became haywire. And things did become haywire.
It seems like a common notion to conclude that you wouldn't be under the same division led by your supervising officer. Aki believed that too yet he could not help but bring you home after you nailed your first hunt.
“Open your mouth.” Aki snarls, looking down at you as you sit on his bed, folding your legs, with your knees kissing the bed sheet.
“Why … ?”, your voice drifts as his eyes meticulously scan you from head to torso. Your eyebrows jump deciphering his thoughts. “But I’ve... never...” you stammer, struggling to put it in words let alone do what he demands of you.
“sucked a cock, yea ?. Right” Aki finishes, holding your chin up so he has your eyes at him. He rejoices at the bashful sight of yours, eager to try yet unaware of how to proceed.
You lick your lower lip feeling the warmth smothering your cheeks carefully conveying, . “y... y-es. never... did that.”
Your sheepish whisper, the coyness in your glimmering pupils that is roaming all over the dim apartment room of his refusing to look at him and those perfectly plush lips that declines to say the word makes Aki’s heart bubble with joy.
He wishes to fuck you in all positions known to a man. He wants to fuck you on this very bed you are seated to the point that your supple skin becomes flush, your pussy all sore, your mind betraying you.
But he can wait. He wants to wait, wait and see how long this ivory facade of yours is gonna last.
“come on, you've never . . .” Aki demands, lips curving in delight hoping that you'd say the word, imagining how lewd you'd look. He grasps your chin as you blink and manage to blurt out, “i... i’ve never sucked a... cock... before.”
Aki grins , his cock pulsating inside his pants as he leans closer to your face, crouching so he could look your eager eyes. “you will ... now.”, he rasps finally releasing his cock from his pants, pumping it a few times in front of your astonished face before lining it up to your mouth. You clear your throat staring at his girth.
“i don’t know how...” , Aki’s brow jumps in fascination, “hold and spit on the head.” what on earth did he do to have to go through all these? Not that he complains but he has experienced sloppy blow jobs to mind ravaging ones that made him never go for the inexperienced ones.
But here you’re, his one and a half months subordinate, popular and demanding devil hunter who has not only managed to occupy his bed but also his mind.
“wh-at?” you blink at him, lips slightly brushing against the swollen head of his cock. Aki brings froth his cock closer to your mouth while holding your head in place so as to push the tip to your lips, to open by lightly grazing.
“ lick it, the pre. . . a good girl should.”You open your mouth slightly, feeling your pussy clenching around nothing when his precum spills on your tongue. You squeeze your eyes shut wrapping your mouth around the head.
“fuck,” Aki hisses, spreading his feet on to the floor mat , toes curling to prevent himself from jamming his cock into your mouth.
“Yeah, like that.”, he assures as half of his cock enters your mouth, saliva coating your mouth due to inexperience which Aki finds to be an undeniably alluring sight. A soft moan escapes your lips, eyes widening to glance at him with your brows pinching together as you notice him let out a groan. He only smirks at you encouraging you.
“you’re doing great, baby,” Aki cooes, watching as you struggle to suck him all in. “like that. Mmgh...just like that,” his words roll smoothly, eyes focusing on your stretched lips that are wrapped around his cock. You work your mouth wider, throat bobbing to adjust to his length touching the back of your throat.
“Wait…ugh… stop.” Aki’s voice becomes ragged that makes your heart drop instantly, you're not sure why that is.
“lick it.”, he instructs in one breath without meeting the eye.You glup all your wary before flattening your tongue ready to lick on his silky smooth shaft.
You accumulate a little bit of courage to lick and suck half-way of his throbbing member, occasionally earning more of his low moans. This is why he likes to work with you, a few straight directions and you're quick enough to build your own pace.
He cups your face with both of his palms before snapping his hips forward, making your nose graze the skin above his cock. You gag, tears suddenly pooling at the corner of your eyes yet Aki refuses to stop. He slowly thrusts in and out, his grip getting stronger trying his best not to lose control.
“take it,” he grunts. “All. Of. It”Aki never bothered to have a memory of how many times he had his cock sucked by different girls who has worked with him and who has not worked with him. Sometimes, he doesn't even bother to know the name unless they’re from his line of work.
He rarely sullies his professional relationship. He has no iota of idea of how many times he has shot his cum down someone else’s throat while still face-fucking them. You are no where to be labelled as skilled.
However, he can't deny that this one would imprint on his mind. Aki groans head inclining upwards with his Adam's apple being pronouncedly on display. “holy fuck,” he utters as his fluid fills your mouth, some escaping along the lines of your lips, some spilling on bedsheets. He pulls out his cock jerking a few times before zipping it up inside his pants.
And as he does he looks at you amazed how your cheeks are bulged, a lazy pout forming on your face. “swallow it” he pants rashly and you obey him without a second thought gulping his fluid down. You tore your gaze away immediately licking your lips thinking of what to do now, fidgeting with the loose ends of your unbuttoned shirt.
Aki still finds its amusing how a skilled devil hunter like you ended up being his subordinate. He thinks you're quite skilled to be a solo operator or perhaps he has grown fond of your pretty face.
“Good girl,” Aki chimes with a smile before kissing your puffy lips pushing you down to the soft mattress. There is a reflexive resistance as he desperately sucks your lips. You hum before caving in to his kiss as he proceeded to your neckline.
“God, you're so cute.”, and in that moment you regretted it, all of these, letting your heart soak in desires and affection. Perhaps,he did too when you desperately clawed his back as you deepened the kiss.
@akicore , @tokyometronetwork
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melissa-kenobi · 4 months
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Still Yours
[PS5 Harry Osborn x Reader]
A/N: hola, yes I am writing for Harry :) I love him too he's so adorable. :3 & yes there shall be a pt 2 for my Peter fic :D
Summary: Harry comes back.
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***
"Just got a tip." MJ says as she checks her phone. "Raft's moving a couple of inmates to Ravenscroft tomorrow for evaluation."
"Did they say who?" Peter asks MJ as she walks to the door, grabbing her keys on the way.
"Nope! But I'm gonna find out." MJ smirks, a cheeky grin on her lips.
"Be careful MJ." You call out from the kitchen as she gives you a salute and walks out the door. Peter laughs as he walks up to you and gives you a hip bump, reaching for the jar.
"Hey! Not my cookies!" You say, ready to throw soapy water at him, but not before you hear MJ let out a shriek.
"MJ!" Both you and Peter call as you run out in a frightful shock after her only to see someone you never thought you'd see again.
Harry Osborn.
MJ runs up to him and gives him a big hug, squeezing the life out of him, a huge grin etched on her face. Peter follows after her, watching his best friend with a gentle smile.
"Woah!" Harry laughs, holding himself up with the help of a cane. "Doctor's haven't cleared me for MJ hugs yet!"
"Sorry..." MJ apologises sheepishly as she pulls back.
You watch from the steps as Peter hugs his best friend, taking comfort in the fact that he was here, telling him how much you had all missed him. Harry glances up from Peter's hug to see you standing by the steps, hands and arms still covered in bubbly soap, curly hair tied up, a few strands framing your features and a look of longing etched onto your face.
"Y/N..." Harry faintly whispers your name ever so sweetly as he looks at you. You watch his eyes soften as he pulled away from Peter and took a wobbly step towards you, almost falling, but Peter catches him, helping Harry stand up right. You hold in your tears as you rush back indoors, slamming the door and falling to the floor.
It had been two years. Two excruciatingly long fucking years since he went to Europe without mentioning a single word to you. No calls, no texts, nothing.
You had to find out from MJ, someone you'd barely spoken to in high school had told you. Mary fucking Jane had to tell you that your so-called boyfriend had gone to Europe and that no-one knew when he'd would be back or how to contact him.
You called him every single day, leaving voicemail after voicemail until his phone told you that his messages were full and that you couldn't leave anymore. You called Peter, each week asking if he had heard anything from Harry, but alas nothing. You had cried every night, praying, wishing that he would contact you somehow. That he hadn't just upped and left without good reason.
But no. Nothing.
So you got on with your life.
Got a job as kindergarten teacher, helped Peter with his Spider-Man stuff, became really good friends with MJ and moved on. Because if Harry had moved on, then so could you.
But now he was here. He was outside the door and you didn't know what to do.
***
Moments later Peter ran indoors calling your name, Harry following behind cautiously as he took in the appearance of the house.
"Y/N?? You still here?" Peter calls but can't seem to find you anywhere in the house. "I don't think she's h-
"Pete..." Harry sighs as he finds a handwritten note on the table. He still recognises your handwriting, a hand tracing over the note softly as he reads it. "She's gone."
"What do you mean she's gone?" Peter scoffs as he reads the note you wrote.
Hey Pete and MJ,
I'm sorry, seeing Harry again brought up some things. I need to clear my mind before anything. If you see him, tell him I did miss him and I do want to talk, soon.
Make sure he doesn't come after me, please Pete? And make sure you don't eat my cookies ... I'm talking about you Ms Watson... :)
Love you guys,
Cookie xx
Harry hears the sound of an engine being turned on and rushes to the door to try and catch you before you leave. He calls your name but it falls on empty ears as he watches you ride away on a black motorbike, curly hair blowing in the wind.
"She rides motorbikes now?" Harry says, eyes filled with adoration, but heart heavy with how much he had missed with you.
"Yeah...but she still doesn't let anyone touch it." Pete smiles, reading the bit about making sure MJ doesn't eat your cookies. However it soon turns into a frown as he looks at Harry. "She's changed alot since you left Harry."
"I know Pete. I know." Harry sits down, sighing deeply. "How do I fix this Pete?"
Peter exhales heavily. "I don't know."
***
It was coming up to 2 weeks since you had run from Harry. From everything.
You don't know why you did.
Maybe you were scared. Scared he didn't need you anymore. Maybe he didn't love you anymore.
MJ had messaged you a million times, making sure you were okay, even sending you pictures of her and Peter with your cookie jar, making sure you'd seen she hadn't eaten any of them. Peter, on the other hand, thought he was subtle. He had swung around where you were staying, keeping an eye on you making sure you weren't falling back into old habits.
Cookie 🍪: pete, you know I can see you?
Pete 🕷: whaaaat? im with mj at home
Cookie 🍪: *sends picture attachment*
Pete 🕷: :O
Pete 🕷: sorry cookie, just wanted to make sure you were safe :(
Cookie 🍪: im okay petey :)
Pete 🕷: i know. harry says hi. he misses you. we miss you
Cookie 🍪: I'll be home soon, promise, love you guys x
Pete 🕷: love you too cookie x
You decided to go home after Peter's text.
***
Seconds after pushing the keys in the door, you were tackled in a massive hug from MJ, who squeezed the living hell out of you and would not let go. You'd barely gotten your helmet off before it dropped to the floor.
"MJ! I'm fine, you can let go now!" You mumble against her hair. "Please, my bones are gonna crack and you don't even have super strength..."
"Don't ever do that again. Please?" MJ says as she pulls away holding your face.
"Sorry red, I promise I won't." You say squeezing her hands gently, making her pull a face at your nickname for her. Peter smiles as he sees you, pulling you into a albeit gentler hug.
"You good?" Peter asks as you nod in response, wallking backwards towards the staircase.
"I'm gonna put my stuff away and I'll-
"Hi..." Harry breathes out, walking down the stairs, coming face to face with you. His red hair, a slight mess on his head, a smile askew on his rosy lips while he observed every inch of your face as if you'd disappear again if he said something wrong. You could sense those feelings you'd buried deep for him wanting to resurface. No, needing to resurface. A red curl had fallen onto his forehead and you instantly to brush it away.
You weren't ready, but it was now or never.
"Hi." You mumble back, suddenly shy as you avoided looking at him. Because if you did, you were sure it was going to break your heart again.
"We'll leave you two to talk..." Peter says, squeezing your hand in comfort, before heading upstairs with MJ. "Hear him out, Cookie..."
You nod back at Pete and MJ, giving them a smile.
"Hi...I er- sorry I already said that..." Harry says shy, stuttering over his words making you let out a small laugh.
He hadn't changed.
His head lifts up, eager to hear your sweet laughter again, "So you and Pete?" Harry says as he smiles softly at you.
"What? No! No way- he's with MJ!" Your eyes go wide before realising he was teasing you. "You're teasing me..."
He hold his hand up in surrender as a soft smile appears on his lips, as he tilts his head, eyes filled with a gentle longing. You couldn't help but notice how much it suited him, how much he had matured. He was still the same Harry you knew, but his features had grown. He no longer had that beanie he always wore, his eyes were brighter than before, filled with hope.
Harry seemed to notice the look on your face and sighed, "I'm sorry, I am so sorry- about everything. Can- can I explain?"
You close your eyes and take a deep breath. "Let's sit down."
You walk over to the couch and take a seat, Harry following suit, sitting closer than you expected.
"Sorry.." He instantly apologised, shuffling back. You don't know what made you put your hand on his leg, making him freeze as he instinctively went to hold your hand.
"I didn't- sorry..." You mutter, looking down, feeling like a shy teen all over again.
Harry lets out a small laugh, squeezing your hand and rubbing the top of it with his thumb. "Reminds me of our 3rd date at Coney-
"When the stupid candy guy pushed me into you and-
"I caught you, but your face was a red as a tomato, and you wouldn't look at me for the rest of our date till I-
"Till you kissed me..." You finish off blushing as you looked up at Harry. Gosh, you really did miss him. "What happened Harry?"
His lips turn into a grimace, eyes still on you. "Europe was a lie. I was in the city in isolation undergoing treatment. I didn't want you guys to worry. I didn't want you to worry..."
"Harry..." You mutter softly, gently playing with his fingers. "I wish you would have told me, so you wouldn't have had to go through it alone."
"No. It was my choice and I had to live with that. I couldn't put you through that pain." Harry sighs, looking at your entwined fingers, his heart aching. "I saw what my father went through when my mom passed, and I- I didn't want the same to happen to you."
"Is it the same thing your mom had?" You asked, looking at him, tears in your eyes.
"It was..." He smiles as you glance up at him. "We think it's in remission."
You gasp in joy and pull him into a hug. "Really? That's wonderful news!"
Harry feels his heart pound as you hug him- he's missed this. "I- I missed you, more than anything. I'm so sorry for the way I left things, for what I put you through, even though I was trying to protect you. I hurt you even more. I listened to all your voicemails every single one, and then one day they just stopped. I thought-"
Pulling back slightly from him you stare at him. "You thought what? That I'd moved on?"
He nods.
"Harry... how could I? You are the love of my life, I never stopped loving you, even when I was so frustrated and angry with you." You admit, because you truly never stopped loving him. "But I understand, I understand you trying to protect us. To protect me."
"I- thank you." Harry sighs in relief, he hated having this feeling of you being angry and disappointed hanging over him. "I- you still love me?"
You bite your lip and look down, feeling shy all of a sudden, Harry puts a finger on your chin and tilts your head up. "I still love you too. I never stopped, all I could think about was you."
"Harry..." Tears slowly fill the corners of your eyes before you wipe them away.
"Can we start over?" Harry asks sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me? Coney Island?"
You smirk at him, "Are you going to try and kiss me again?"
"Are you going to turn red again?" Harry teases back.
"I did not! It was cold!" You lightly shove him, but he catches your arms and pulls you into him. Harry places a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he holds you in his arms snugly.
"Is that a yes Cookie?" Harry softly asks, absentmindedly rubbing your hip.
*thump* *thump* *thump*
The two of you jump up only to see MJ and Peter roll down the stairs, Peter trying to help MJ but ending up on the floor, MJ on top of him as she looks up at you with a huge grin on her face.
"Say yes, you doofus!" MJ laughs, and Peter is nodding enthusiastically like a golden retriever.
You throw a pillow in their direction before rolling your eyes at their antics. You can't stop the smile on your face as you pull Harry into a kiss and whisper yes.
***
"Hey, how comes you never let me on your bike? And you never let me eat your cookies!" Peter asks with a fake sad face as he reaches to touch it. But before he can, you lightly slap his hand away.
"You're Spider-Man. You don't need a bike." You deadpan.
"Besides, Harry's my fiance now. So what's mine is his." You smirk as you settle onto your bike, Harry slipping on behind as he wrapped his arms around your waist, placing a kiss on your cheek. "Including my cookies."
"See ya Pete!" Harry childishly sticks his tongue out at Peter as you ride away laughing.
"MJ, you gotta learn how to ride a bike..." Peter mumbles to himself.
***
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