#Custom IV drips | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oliversrarebooks · 4 months

Text

corporate retreat 3/4

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: brainwashing, drugging, dehumanization, hypnosis, amnesia

"Quinn? Can you open your eyes for me, please?"

Somehow, they managed to get their eyes cracked slightly open. The lights in the room had mercifully been dimmed, and everything seemed fuzzy and indistinct.

"Good. Follow the penlight with your eyes, please."

Quinn did their best, but it all seemed like a big confusing blur.

"Reactions very slow but perceptible. Subject just barely able to respond to stimuli. Twilight sleep state achieved. Based on the results of the tests and their psychological makeup… recommend… and fifty milliliters… around two hours…"

Quinn felt the mask being taken off their face, and the cool rush of fresh air untainted by sedatives was a relief. They cracked their eyes open again as their arm was grasped by one of the assistants. She wiped the inside of their elbow with a cotton swab soaked in cool liquid, and then began to insert an IV line. They were still far too out of it, their limbs much too heavy, to resist.

The IV line was attached to a big bag of light blue fluid. Quinn watched as the drug went drip-drip-drip down the tube and into their arm. The assistant used the IV port to inject a dose of what looked like the same drug.

"We'll give you a little time to adjust to the new medication," said Dr. Moon. "You can just relax."

They assumed they were going to be put back to sleep, but instead they just lay there, staring at the slow drip of blue liquid, in a kind of tranquilized daze. Whatever this new drug was, it wasn't bad. They couldn't remember the last time they had felt so peaceful. Actually, they were feeling pretty good. The all-consuming sleepiness they'd felt from the gas had melted away into a drowsy calm, and their thoughts were gradually returning.

"Quinn? Are you awake? How are you feeling?"

Quinn turned lazily to Dr. Moon. "Good. Really, really drowsy… but good," they said.

"That's excellent to hear," Dr. Moon said. "You're on the good stuff now. We gathered enough data to understand how best to adjust your mind."

"The good stuff…" Quinn's gaze traveled back to the IV line. "What is it?"

"We like to call it cleaning fluid -- but don't be alarmed. It's a nickname, because it's for washing your brain." She laughed. "We have many different components we can use to make it. It's highly customized for the individual, their needs, and our needs."

They really couldn't have been alarmed even if they tried. "What's in mine?"

"Cleaning fluid always starts with Influence Serum. That's our proprietary control medication that removes your mental defenses and inhibitions and increases suggestibility, leaving your mind delightfully pliant and malleable. Then we add Liquid Lullaby -- that's what's keeping you drowsy and docile," she explained. "Your custom mixture also has Pacifier, our anti-anxiety agent, and a little False Paradise, to induce mild euphoria. Plus a few interesting other traces."

"That seems like… a lot of drugs."

"Don't worry, it's especially formulated for you, and completely harmless," she said. "You were so anxious coming here, weren't you?"

"Yeah," they agreed without hesitation.

"And you seem so exhausted. Aren't you exhausted from all the work you do?"

"Yeah, I am."

"And I bet you're so tired of thinking, too. Solving problems. Making decisions. Your poor, tired mind needs a break from all of that."

She was right, that sounded heavenly. What had they even been so worried about? The Brainwashing Department was so nice, and Dr. Moon was so friendly and helpful. "Yeah, I guess I really did need a break." They relaxed into the comfortable chair, resting their arm with the IV on the armrest. Dr. Moon was right. These drugs really were the good stuff.

"Well, it's a good thing you've got a month long vacation, then, isn't it?" said Dr. Moon.

Quinn smiled. "I can't believe it, but I'm actually glad I came here."

"Oh, that's just so lovely to hear you say! I really do think we do great work here. We help people," she said. "And I've got another treat in store for you."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I'm going to turn on the screen and you're going to watch a fun movie for the next couple of hours. It's going to hypnotize you and help you be so obedient. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Um…" Quinn furrowed their brows. They dimly remembered that they hadn't wanted that, but they didn't really feel like making a fuss when instead they could just relax in a blissful daze.

"Great, let's get you all situated." Dr. Moon reclined their chair a little bit more, then turned on the screen and placed it in front of Quinn's face.

The screen burst to life with a pulsating rainbow spiral, one that drew Quinn's eyes right to the center as the colors shifted and swirled. They couldn't look away. They didn't want to. Something about it was so, so… compelling… like it was the greatest and most fascinating thing Quinn had ever seen, like they could watch it forever.

"There we go. Just watch the spiral. You're too sleepy to resist, aren't you?"

"I'm… I'm not…"

"Oh yes you are. You're much too sleepy to resist."

"I'm… too sleepy to resist…" Quinn heard themself agree.

"The spiral is going to open your mind up very nicely," she said. "You're going to keep your heavy eyes open and watch the spiral, but your mind is going to go to sleep, okay? Deep, deep sleep… a deep hypnotic sleep where you can listen and absorb everything."

They could feel it. They could feel themselves falling asleep in the heart of the pulsating spiral. "I can listen…"

"So obedient, aren't you? Just like you should be. What an excellent subject."

Quinn couldn't help but smile. "…Thank you…"

"Oh, you like the praise, don't you? You're the type that wants to get a good grade in being brainwashed."

It felt like so long since they'd done anything right, really. "Yeah…"

Dr. Moon draped a warm blanket over Quinn's body. "Then be a good little test subject for me, stare in to the pretty spiral, and let yourself be hypnotized."

Quinn nodded slowly. They didn't want to do anything else. They felt a pair of headphones being slipped over their ears. Through them, they could hear soft music playing and Dr. Moon's voice coaxing them to fall asleep, to be obedient and docile, to love the experience of being brainwashed.

They were much, much too sleepy to resist. Besides, they wanted to please Dr. Moon.

They should just listen, let Dr. Moon do all the thinking for them, and fall deep into trance.

"Sleep and obey…" they heard their own voice saying. "Deeper asleep and deeper entranced… too sleepy to resist… I love being brainwashed… I must obey Dr. Moon…"

Their eyelids were getting heavier again, the entrancing spiral a colorful blur, as they repeated the mantras and fell so deep into hypnotic sleep.

They weren't sure how long they remained there, eyes half-open, staring into the spiral. Time seemed to have no meaning. It could've been five minutes and it could've been five months.

"…so happy that you were brainwashed. Three. You'll be docile and obedient. Two. You'll be relaxed and refreshed. And one. You can open your eyes and wake."

Quinn opened their eyes just as the screen turned off, yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes. They felt so, so utterly relaxed, like they'd just had the world's finest spa treatment. Like that was the first really good sleep they'd had in years.

They were still in their chair in the clinical room. The machines were quietly beeping, and the bag of drugs attached to the IV looked mostly empty. They were more than content to just rest for a while and see what would happen next, floating in a cloud of bliss.

It didn't take long before Dr. Moon entered. "Why, hello Quinn. Welcome back to the waking world. Did you have a good nap?"

"The best," they said. "I feel amazing."

"Oh, I'm so glad. You really needed that sleep and mental readjustment," said Dr. Moon. "Here, have some water and a nutrition bar."

Quinn eagerly took the food and water. It hadn't really been something they had thought about, but they actually were hungry.

"Did you enjoy the movie?" asked Dr. Moon.

"It was wonderful," said Quinn. "It feels so right to be hypnotized and not have to think for myself. I didn't realize how badly I needed that."

"Oh, you're such a model subject. I think you might be one of my favorites," said Dr. Moon as Quinn beamed in pride. "You're taking to the brainwashing so, so well. I agree, I really think it's exactly what you needed. And you're going to get another round with a new movie -- but first I wanted to give you a little break."

"Thank you," said Quinn through a mouthful of nutrition bar. They couldn't wait to see what the new movie would be like.

"First, though…" Dr. Moon nonchalantly pulled a capped syringe from her lab coat pocket, injecting the contents into the IV line. "We call this one Loose Lips. It's a truth serum. You're probably too hypnotized to really need it, but I want to make sure you're completely honest with me when I ask you embarrassing and invasive questions about your personal life."

Quinn nodded. "That makes sense."

"First off, how do you feel about your boss?"

They frowned, annoyance just barely managing to push through their drugged calm. "She's driving me insane with their unreasonable demands. She's constantly calling me in to work on nights and weekends because we're so short-staffed, and then she acts like it's my fault that I'm burned out. She wastes my time with boring, pointless meetings, and when there's some kind of problem, she micromanages me and keeps asking for status updates when I just need to concentrate on fixing it." The grievances poured out of their mouth easily.

"That sounds really rough," said Dr. Moon sympathetically. "You should tell me everything you know about your boss. I'm very interested. And after that, maybe you can tell me all about your insecurities, secret fantasies, and embarrassing fetishes."

"Sure!" said Quinn, so eager to be obedient and useful.

Dr. Moon questioned Quinn for a while, and Quinn found that they could answer all of their questions easily and in great depth without a hint of shame. It was really nice to be able to speak so freely. Dr. Moon was such a kind, understanding person.

"You've done so well for me," said Dr. Moon. "I couldn't ask for a better test subject. I think it's time for you to get another round of brainwashing, don't you think?"

"Yes, please!" said Quinn with a big smile. "I'm so lucky that I get to spend an entire month in the Brainwashing Department. Do you think I could transfer permanently?"

"I think that would be an excellent idea. We'll see. But for now, I need to change out your IV medication, okay?" Dr. Moon switched the nearly empty bag for a full one. "This formulation is a little different. I've reduced the Liquid Lullaby and added a little River Lethe. That's our best and most gentle amnestic -- a medication that interferes with memory formation and produces amnesia."

"Amnesia…?" said Quinn, feeling a strange bit of anxiety, the first they'd felt since waking.

"You'll be less sleepy this time, but don't worry, you'll be every bit as hypnotized and blissed-out. You're not going to remember the next few hours, though. You probably won't remember much of this conversation, either," said Dr. Moon. "This new medication will leave you feeling pretty fuzzy for a while after your treatment, too. Is all of that okay with you?"

The anxiety was dissolved by their desire to please the doctor. "Of course it's okay. Whatever you think is best." The new drug was already dripping steadily into their veins. It was strange to think that it was already at work in their brain, that they wouldn't be able to remember any of this.

"Then you can just sit back and enjoy your new favorite TV show," said Dr. Moon, turning the screen on again. This time, it was a scene of slow moving clouds floating by.

Quinn barely noticed when Dr. Moon dimmed the lights and left the room, the drugs and the voices in their headphones already turning their mind into useless mush, fit only to listen and obey. After all, they were so sleepy, and the hypnotic program was far too good to resist.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

#whump #whump writing #hypnosis #brainwashing #drugging #corporate retreat

109 notes · View notes

txttletale · 1 year

Text

[voice dripping with sexual charisma] yeah so ive been making custom itysl magic cards

#tattletxt #mtg

427 notes · View notes

ziggyzolch · 2 months

Text

Your Prettiness is Seeping Through IV (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Warnings: Explicit depictions of bulimia. self harm talk. the usual. mommy issues fr. breakdowns, wanda going through it. lotta dialogue this chapter.

Previous Chapter

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

----------she looks like the real thing-------------

❅❅❅

Crumbs and dirty plates surrounded you. Sunlight streamed through the large front windows, casting a warm glow on the girl sitting across from you. You don’t quite recognize her, but for some reason you ignore it. She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners, as you finish off the last of your meal.. You dust off your hands, picking up a napkin and wiping sauce off your lips. “You go first, I need to chill for a bit.” The girl across from you groans, placing her hand on her belly. Nodding, you toss the crumpled napkin to the side and stand up.

The air smells of fried food and coffee, an oddly comforting blend that lingers as you weave through the tightly packed tables. Dirty looks are thrown your way while you push past every other customer, but you pay them no mind. The bathroom door, slightly ajar, beckoned you. The door hinges’ squeaking echo throughout the restaurant’s washroom as you enter.

Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, your feet squeaking against the tiled floor as you walk towards the stall closest to you, glancing at the elderly woman at the sinks. Her gaze follows you, curious and slightly disapproving, as you slipped inside the stall and closed the door behind you. You roll your eyes and enter.

It’s none of her business.

Your fingers fumble in your pocket, finding the hair tie and pulling your hair into a tight bun, ensuring no strays would get in the way. Dropping to your knees on the cold, tiled floor, you lean over the toilet. Your stomach felt like it was about to burst.

This was going to be good.

You bring your right hand up to your mouth, taking a deep breath in before shoving two fingers down your throat.

The sound of you coughing and gagging bounce around the room, but nothing comes out.

You take your fingers out, ignoring the saliva dripping onto the floor,

“Fuck, come on.” You mutter.

You try again, going deep enough to feel the ridges of your throat. A little soda comes out, but nothing else.

Tears sprang to your eyes, “No, no, no. Come on, come on!”

You use your arm to wipe your eyes, trying to avoid ruining your mascara, but instead of being greeted by the sight of a disgusting, spit covered toilet, you open your eyes to find you’re back at the same table, with the same girl sitting across from you, as if no time had passed.

You didn’t feel any emptier, but you couldn’t control your hands moving towards the seemingly untouched food. Your body moves on its own accord, devouring the entire three-course meal and quickly standing up, making your way back to the bathroom.

Rushing into the bathroom, you enter the same stall.

You tie up your hair, lean over the toilet, and shove your fingers down your throat.

Nothing.

“Fuck!”

You blink, and the familiar surroundings of the diner reappear. The sensation of being overstuffed returns, more intense than before. The girl across from you smiles, pushing her plate towards you, “I’m full.”

Unable to stop yourself, you reach for the plate and demolish her leftovers. Footsteps behind you catch your attention. “Who’s this for?” The waiter asks, handing you the plate of cheese fries when the girl points at you.

Grabbing the plate, you start eating before it even hits the table, not even bothering to use utensils.

You lick the plate clean, grabbing the cup of iced tea and chugging it down. Just as you’re about to get up for the third time, a sudden wave of tiredness hits you. The girl smiles wider as she watches you flop back down onto your seat, laying your head on the table as your eyes droop.

‘No, get up!’ You think to yourself, ‘Get the fuck up. Go!’

You can’t keep all of that food inside you. Imagining the amount of calories you’re digesting sickens you.

The sounds of the diner fade as you start to drift off.

‘Stay awake, get up and go. Go! Wake up. Wake up, Please just-’

“Wake up!”

You jump up, hands grasping at your chest. The warm atmosphere of the diner is replaced by the harsh, sterile environment of your room. Glancing around, you catch sight of a wide eyed Wanda with her hands on your shoulders.

“Oh, thank god.” You breathe a sigh of relief. It was just a nightmare. You shake her hands off of you and she backs away as you turn to sit up at the edge of the bed. Cheeks reddening, you realize she must’ve seen you thrash around in bed muttering like an insane person.

Wanda picks at her cuticles, standing awkwardly as you stand up, stretching with a groan. “Good morning.” You smile, noticing her eyes flicker to your exposed middle. Quickly, you pull your shirt down, hiding the scars you know she’s staring at.

“Minor surgery,” you lie, turning away before she can ask any more questions.

Two parallel scars adorned each side of your hips, a burn you’d made when you were 16 that never faded. Making designs with your burns added an element of fun to your self-harm. If the light hit your lower abdomen just right, you could see a faded heart you’d burnt into yourself.

Wanda’s eyebrows knit together as she watches you enter the bathroom. She had no idea why you were in here, and any attempt she made to read your mind was met with resistance. The only time she’d ever heard any of your thoughts was the first time she’d seen you.

She caught glimpses of your dream, mostly just you eating at a diner on loop, but nothing past that. Her observations were pretty much useless. Scars were randomly scattered across your left arm, in a way that they could almost pass as accidental, if you overlooked how many there were. They were nothing like her own, all parallel and within the same general area. She figured they must be accidents, since you didn’t make much of an effort to hide them.

Plus, your somewhat sunny disposition makes her hesitant to assume you were here as a result of a failed suicide attempt.

You had tried talking to her several times, each attempt more awkward than the last. She watched you furrow your eyebrows in thought, speak, then sulk when she didn’t offer a response until you thought of something else, repeating the loop. Getting stuck with an overexcited extrovert was the complete opposite of what she expected in a facility like this.

The only suspicious thing she’d caught you doing was when you spent 2 hours on your laptop, watching people eat ungodly amounts of food. That led her to the conclusion that you must have some sort of eating disorder.

Wanda takes a seat at the desk as you exit. She hears you walking around the room, opening random drawers and re-entering the bathroom before walking towards her. “Hey, you haven’t seen a pack of cigarettes lying around here, have you?” You ask with your hands on your hips, twisting your torso to scan the room before making eye contact.

She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Damn it,” You mutter.

Both of your eyes turn towards the door as Nurse Ezra walks in, “Ah, great, you’re already up. Come get your breakfast,” He turns to walk away before quickly turning back, “Oh, shoot, I need to lock the room behind you guys.”

You and Wanda glance at each other before you ask, “Uh…why?”

He scratches the back of his head, “We lock the doors for 30 minutes after meals. To get you guys to socialize, and to stop,” He makes eye contact with you, “Certain patients from doing something that may affect their…journey.”

Wanda furrows her eyebrows, looking to you for an explanation. You don’t seem to be as confused as her, your face reddening.

Shaking yourself out of your shock, you nod and begin to walk out the room, the witch following after you.

Wanda catches up to you, her voice hesitant. “Hey... Do you know what he meant by that?”

You try not to react to the fact that she was speaking to you, “No idea.”

“Are you sure?”

“I really don’t. Where are you from?”

Wanda raises an eyebrow at the sudden topic change before you continue, “I just noticed you had an accent.”

“Sokovia.” She replies, “Not much of a country anymore, though.”

You scoff, “Don’t say that.”

She shrugs. It had been years since she’d heard any news about Sokovia. Her country had been destroyed by a sentient robot, and she helped. She helped Ultron get access to vibranium, she released the Hulk into the city, and in the end she got Pietro…

Nevermind.

She can’t bring herself to watch the news about Sokovia anymore.

“It was destroyed. Was it not?” She questions as you both take a seat at one of the benches.

“They are rebuilding it.” You rest your chin on your hands,

Wanda’s eyes widened, “Really?”

You lift an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in your voice. “Yeah…Did you not know?”

She shakes her head.

Trays of food being placed in front of you interrupt your conversation. It was split up into 4 sections. The largest, on the bottom right corner, was filled with scrambled eggs and bacon. Hash Browns were on the section to its left, toast and jam on the section above. A single milk carton placed on the last one.

Your stomach grumbles at the sight. The food looked delicious, which you had expected in a place like this, but there’s no way you could let yourself digest it. The more you focus on the meal in front of you, the more you notice the oil dripping off the hashbrowns, the grease gathering under the bacon and eggs, and the calorie label on the carton of milk. You didn’t need to look at the toast to know how many calories were in it, you had it memorized.

You can’t eat this.

Ignoring Wanda’s eyes on you, you open up the carton of milk, pouring it over the whole meal.

“What was that for?” The witch asks, plunging her fragile, plastic fork into the hashbrowns.

You take a spoon and mush the food, mixing the milk into everything you could,

“I don’t eat pork.”

❅❅❅

The common room had been buzzing with excitement since visiting hours arrived. You could see Wanda across the room, sitting on a pristine white couch next to an older redhead, who was wearing a baseball cap indoors. You wondered briefly as to why, but dismissed it; to each their own.

You turn your gaze towards the window, watching the snow fall. Winter had always been your favorite season; it brought on a comforting kind of depression. You could never explain it in a way that made sense, but summer made you feel fat. In the same way keeping your hair curly, breathing heavily, and sweating in any way made you feel fat. You knew it didn’t make any sense, but you couldn’t stand it. The snow was also just nicer than heat to you. It had never snowed where you lived, so even after your second year here, you still got excited to see it.

Someone snapping their fingers in front of your face takes you out of your reverie. “I’m paying attention.” You grumble, bringing your eyes up to meet your mothers’.

She sighs, “How’s this place treating you?”

“It’s fine.”

“Good, good. Let’s hope you don’t gain too much weight.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you serious?”

“Baby, you don’t need to gain weight, you just need to stop doing,” She makes random gestures, “Whatever you used to do. You’re fine just like that.”

“Thanks.” You scoff, “ Where’s dad?”

She offers a look of pity, “You know dad, honey, his work keeps him busy.”

“He can’t spare one day to visit-”

“So, any boys catch your eye?” She interrupts.

You bring your hands up to your face, groaning, “Mother, I am in a mental facility.”

She shrugs, “So?”

“Oh my god.” You say, exasperated.

Your mother checks her watch before lightly slapping her hands against her knees and getting up. Eyes widening, you rise to your feet, disbelief clearly written on your face, “You’re leaving already?”

She sighs, “I’m sorry, baby, but I need to get home and make dinner before your father gets home.”

“Can’t he order? Please, just fifteen more minutes-”

“Stay safe, honey, call me if you need anything.”

Wanda watches you chase after your mother, pleading. She doesn’t really get it. The conversation you were having could be heard from where she was sitting, and it didn’t seem like your mother cared enough for you to beg her to stay longer.

“Poor girl. Isn’t she your roommate?” Natasha asks, having watched the scene play out.

The younger woman nods, “Yeah.”

“Is she nice?”

“She’s okay.”

“If she’s a bitch you can tell me. I’ll knock her right out of this place.”

Wanda laughs, “She’s decent, just a little talkative.”

“Good. You need someone like that.”

“What makes you say that?” Wanda picks at the loose threads on her sweater.

“I don’t know,” The widow looks at her hands, “You starve and you don’t talk, you drink and you don’t talk. You never say anything at all.”

Wanda sighs, “I talk.”

“Not about anything substantial. You never told me how much you were struggling.”

“I could handle it.”

“This,” Natasha gestures to the surrounding, “is not the result of ‘handling it.’”

“This,” Wanda mimics her, “is bullshit. I should be at work.”

“So you can freely drink yourself into a coma?” Natasha sighs, “What would Pietro think?”

“Seriously?” Wanda jumps up, “This was a mistake.”

“No wait-” The witch storms off before Natasha can apologize.

Who does she think she is? Pietro’s not here to give her the same bullshit the rest of her friends were giving. He’s not here to reprimand her for all the alcohol she drank, or all the meals she’s missed. He’s not here to help her clean up her room, dress her wounds, comb through her matted hair.

He’s not here.

Wanda doesn’t realize what she’s doing until she feels hands grasping at her wrists, stopping her from banging her fist against her head anymore. When did she reach her room?

“Hey, hey. You’re okay.”

Wanda breaks down as you pull her towards you, lowering yourself onto the floor with her. You'd dropped everything the second you saw her franticly run into the room.

“I can’t stay here.” She chokes out. You move her towards your shoulder, letting her rest her head. “I-I can’t s-stay.”

Shushing her, you gently scratch the back of her head, “You don’t have to talk,” you say softly.

Wanda leans back after a while, sniffling and looking at your shirt, pinching the fabric, “I stained your shirt. I’m sorry.”

You glance down at the wet spot on your shirt and shrug, smiling. “Stain it all you want. This shirt has seen worse,”

The witch smiles before pushing herself off the floor, walking towards the desk and wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, while you stay seated on the floor.

A soft thud echoes throughout the room as something is tossed onto the ground in front of you.

You gasp, “My baby! Where did you find this?” Inspecting the pack, you pull the top open, taking a cigarette and pulling a lighter out of your pocket.

“I found it in the lobby when I first came here. Sorry.”

“I forgive you, thief.”

“Shut up.”

You rise and move to the window, pushing it open with a quiet creak. The frost gathered on the bars slowly melts as you light up your cigarette. The cool air brushes against your face while you take the first drag of the cigarette, the smoke curling around you.

“Cancer’s a slow death.” Wanda says, approaching you.

You offer her a hit. “Everything causes cancer these days.”

She shakes her head, opting to just stand next to you. After a moment of silence, Wanda points at your arm, “How’d you get that?”

She raises a hand when you start to answer, “Let me guess, paintball? Or was it a failed attempt at cooking?”

You laugh, looking down at the circle shaped scar on your arm, “Am I that bad of a liar?”

“You’re quick with the excuses,” she says, a hint of amusement in her voice. “It’s almost impressive.'"

Raising your other hand, you softly rub at the scar, “I was 14 – or 13 – and I bent a big paperclip into a circle, heated it up, then…tss”

Wanda winces, “You branded yourself? Jesus,” she turns her head towards the ground, “You were so young.”

You put out the cigarette, shrugging.

She points to your right arm, at a scar that runs across your bicep, “What about this one?”

“Sport accident.”

The witch raises an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

“Yes! I don’t have the balls to do that on purpose.”

She gives you the benefit of the doubt, moving on, “And that?”

Your eyes widen when she points at the band aid on your head, “Oh. Nothing.”

“Come on-”

“It’s nothing!”

Wanda places her arms up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry.”

She pauses for a moment before continuing, “Y’know, you come off quite cheerful.”

You shrug, “People like me better that way.”

“So? Who cares what people think?” Wanda places her hand on your arm.

You push her hand off, “I do.”

The conversation fizzles as you look away, lighting another cigarette and shivering at a gust of wind. You hear Wanda's footsteps echo throughout the room as she walks away, the bathroom door closing behind her.

You hated people touching you, it's like you could feel all the fat being squished under their hands. Objectively, you knew you weren’t obese, but you were constantly aware of all the fat under your skin.

You were hyper-aware of everything in your body, every change. When your baby fat started to fall off, when the veins in your hands became more prominent, when your hip bones started to stick out. Nothing got past you. You couldn’t let it. Once you start ignoring all the little changes, you’ll start gaining weight, and it’ll take another 3 years to get rid of it again.

Being overly self-aware was a gift as much as it was a curse.

You jump as the silence around you is suddenly broken by Wanda’s hesitant voice, “I’m sorry.”

Catching your breath, you offer Wanda a smile, “None of that. Nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, not just that. For ignoring you when you tried to talk to me.”

You move towards your bed, taking a seat, “You don’t owe me conversation.”

Wanda grins, “You’re so forgiving.”

You lightly punch her shoulder as she plops down next to you. “You’re so apologetic.”

She smooths down the wrinkles on your blanket, “I can’t help it.”

“Neither can I.”

The witch’s eyes widen as Pietro’s face flashes onto yours when you answer. She backs away, harshly rubbing at her eyes.

You sigh as you watch Wanda retreat to her bed, curling up and turning away.

Wanda’s gentle sobs echoed in the room. You watch her back, her shoulders trembling as she cries, waiting for an explanation she would never give. She couldn’t look at you, couldn’t see him.

The room goes silent as Wanda’s sobs quiet, aside from the occasional creak of the floorboards and the faint rustle of the bedding.

You almost say something. Almost reach forward, blurting out words of reassurance that you knew she wouldn’t believe.

Instead, you move back towards the window, lighting your third cigarette of the hour.

❅❅❅

A/N: hello! hope you guys are doing well. this chapter was supposed to come out earlier but i scrapped a rewrote a huge chunk of it.

anyways, i read your comments and they mean so so so much, i appreciate u guys fr. motivates me to write more, im just bad at replying.

any criticisms, advice, opinions or whatevs are welcome and i hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter! <3 <3

Comment to be added to taglist!! or removed or whateva

Tags: @mathxa @nikkinss @charleeeesworld @marvel-posts @fawnedolly @dyingbatbutnobat

62 notes · View notes

swiftiewillwrite · 4 months

Text

caramel iced coffee -

a spencer agnew fanfic

pairing - spencer agnew x reader

warnings - none! slight anxiety for like a paragraph :)

a/n - hello!!! ive written a ton of fanfics but only published two, and this is my first published on tumblr! hope yall enjoy !!

You stand behind the counter, muscle memory making your fifth pumpkin spice latte in a row. Oh, how you love fall. Even during your least busy time of day, you still get to spend what feels like forever on overly complicated drinks.

You hand the last one to a teenage girl, looking very apologetic. You give her a smile.

“Next!”

Woah. the man who now stands in front of you was definitely gonna fuck up your work day. He wore thinly framed round glasses and had messy curly hair, plus a beard that you found all too attractive. You attempted to compose yourself. “What can I get you?”

The man stared blankly for a moment, then responded. Must've not gotten a lot of sleep last night. “Uh.. what do you recommend?”

“Oh! I guess I'm kind of a sucker for anything caramel, do you want something hot or cold?”

“Really just make me your favorite, I haven't done this in a while.”

“What, ordered coffee?” you joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Ooh-kay, name for the order?”

“Spencer.” (god, why is it always the s names?)

“Alright Spencer, that will be 5 bucks, just tap or swipe or do whatever, and I'll have that ready for you in just a minute.” you smile, not letting the customer service voice falter, ignoring the unholy visions of what you wanted this man to do to you invading your mind.

You set to work on another overly complicated drink. Usually you would be complaining your ass off to yourself right now, but youre the one who subjected yourself to this. You're too weak when it comes to cute customers.

Working alone on slow days was your favorite kind of shift, because you got to play your own playlist. Today, that was a bit more of a curse as you notice Spencer humming along.

As you placed the lid on the cup, you looked up to the booth where he was waiting. He looked away immediately, as if he had already been staring. You hoped that he was.

Walking out from behind the counter, you set the cup on the table in front of him. “Here you go,”

He smiles softly, uttering a soft thanks. You made your way back to the counter, watching from a distance as he collected his things and walked out of the cafe.

God, you had never wanted a new regular more.

—

The next morning, he was back. Looking up at the door as the bell rang, you saw him once again. Spencer was wearing a graphic tee, revealing tattoos you hadn't seen yesterday. You felt a smile creep up your face, but a pit form in your stomach with no discernible cause. Before you could get too lost in thought, though, Spencer was at the counter, ready to order.

"Hey,” you smiled, “Are you ready to order for yourself today, or want another surprise?”

He let out a soft laugh, a sound that made your heart leap out of your chest. “If it isn't too much of a burden-,” he started, the last word dripping with sarcasm. “-I would enjoy a surprise drink.”

You sigh dramatically, “Fine,” drawing out the word with childlike brattiness. “Here or to go?”

Spencer said something he never could have if actual thoughts were going through his head:

“Here, but only if you sit with me while I drink,”

Holyshitholyshitholyshit- “Keep trying, maybe you'll get there eventually. Your total is 5.25.” You joked, a smile on your face covering your internal freak out over the fact that you just rejected the hottest guy you had ever seen.

And try he did. Every day, without fail, he came into your cafe, ordered his usual (your usual) and asked you to sit with him. And every day, you were too afraid to say yes.

"Are you sure that you don't want something new?”

“Give me the drink, please.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, but got to work making his drink. For the first time in three weeks, he stayed near the counter as you made it. As you let the coffee brew, you leaned on the counter, looking at him.

“So.. why are you always here so early? Like; this is earlier than all my other usuals,”

“You have other usuals? Wow, and I thought I was special,”

“Yes, I have other usuals. But you might be a favorite.” you smiled at him softly, and he returned the look. “Answer my question, though. Why are you here at like.. Six every day? How early do you work?”

Spencer looked slightly uncomfortable, then spoke. “I actually don't have to be there until 10 most days.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, I work at this Youtube comedy company, and so the first time I came here was a shoot week, so I did have to be at work by 7 to set up. It's just that when that week ended… I decided to just always get here early.”

“Wait, what company? Also, why? Why not just come later?” you questioned, trying to silence the hopeful voice in your head saying that you were the reason he kept coming back.

“It's less busy at this time. I get to actually talk to you.” What.

“Oh.. that's really sweet, man.” Man? Why would you say that- “I like talking to you too. So where do you work?”

Spencer looked slightly reluctant, but you tried to not read into it. “It's called Smosh,”

You perked up. “No shit? I was obsessed with Smosh when I was younger. Like- I got home from school every day and immediately pulled up whatever was posted that day,” you notice him looking down, and poke his arm, near a tattoo of a thwomp. “Why didn't you want to tell me?”

Spencer looks up at you. “Hmm?”

“You tried to change the topic. What's up?”

He purses his lips, then softly says “I didn't want that to be the only reason you like me. Or- like talking to me. Sorry.”

You open your mouth to respond, to tell him his worries were wrong, but are interrupted by the sound of the bell on the door. You look up and see your favorite coworker. “Hey Zoë! Can you watch the counter for like.. Two minutes for me?”

She raised an eyebrow at you and the man standing next to you. “It's about to get really busy.”

“I know, I know, just- please?” you looked at her, and she must've seen the desperation in your eyes, because she responded-

“Fine. Just be back soon. Love ya.”

You looked at her like she had just saved your life, and turned back to Spencer. “Wanna talk at a table?” Spencer just looked at you like you had grown a second head, but nodded. When you sat down, you started talking again. “I really like talking to you. And I did before you told me you have my childhood dream job. I like your humor and your laugh and your hair. I like your taste in music and movies and I like you.”

Spencer took a moment to collect his words. He couldn't find any, so he just leaned across the table and kissed you. A million thoughts raced through both of your heads, until you heard Zoë cough at you from behind the counter, and pulled away.

“Sorry.” Spencer apologized. You shook your head with a smile, and asked if you could put your number in his phone. He handed you the device, and you pondered for a moment before you put your name in as ‘beautiful sexy perfect human’. You texted yourself a “hey” from his phone, and added his name as ‘spenner’. He took his phone back, immediately letting out a “Shit! I have to get to work.” When he saw the time, and standing up to leave.

You frowned, but as he walked out and let the door close behind him, you sent him a simple two word text.

spenner

bye cutie

He was still close enough that you could see him smile through the window when he opened his phone. You turned to the counter to get back to work, when Zoë asked you:

“Was that Spencer Agnew?”

#spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #swiftiewillwrite #smoshblr #smosh games

95 notes · View notes

lemoncrushh · 6 months

Text

Tattooed Heart - Part IV

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 7k+

STORY PAGE

“Ugh, look at him,” groaned Jill, nudging your shoulder with hers when she walked behind the counter to bring empty coffee cups from a nearby table.

You stopped mid-pour, turning to see whom she was talking about, but the only table occupied now besides Harry’s was the older woman whose coffee you were preparing.

“Who, Harry?” you asked, holding back a grin.

“No, Stan,” Jill scoffed. “Yes, of course Harry.”

“What about him?”

“He’s just so….ugh. Infuriatingly handsome.”

Your cheeks a rosy pink, you turned back to your task at hand. After only one date, you weren’t ready to tell your co-worker that you were interested in Harry in any way. Fortunately, you’d had the early shift that Monday morning, and Harry had arrived an hour before Jill’s shift. So she hadn’t seen your exchange when he’d walked up to the counter, a lopsided grin on his face as he’d ordered his flat white.

“I’ll get that right out to you,” you’d mimicked his smile before taking the next customer’s order.

He’d chosen his usual table by the window, opening his backpack and setting up his tablet. When you’d brought his coffee to him, he’d whispered so softly, you had to lean over to hear him.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I still can’t stop thinking about you.” His hand had covered yours on the table, and he’d given it a quick but tender squeeze.

“Then we may have a problem.”

“Why’s that?”

Boldly, you’d leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you either.”

“Y/N!” called Jill, snapping you back to the present.

“Yeah?” you blinked. Somehow, you’d managed to finish making the older woman’s latte, and brought it to her table without even realizing. You’d had Harry brain for the last two days. And with him currently present in your cafe, minding his own business, it was a wonder you were even able to function. Especially after his previous admission.

“Come see,” your co-worker waved you over to Harry’s table. “He’s working on something new.”

Wiping your hands on a towel, you joined Jill, standing beside her to see what Harry had drawn on his tablet. As he held it up, you felt a flutter in your chest.

“Oh, that’s…” you started to say, pointing. It looked a lot like the painting you had seen at his apartment on Saturday. The one of the moon dripping. But you quickly side-stepped, not wanting to divulge your weekend whereabouts with your new friend.

“That’s really cool,” you croaked instead, clearing your throat. “I like how the drops make a heart.”

“Thanks,” muttered Harry, turning slightly to give you a smirk.

“Ugh! So talented!” Jill spun around, heading back to the counter as a customer entered.

You stood in your spot, your feet frozen to the tile as you watched Harry’s stylus pen continue its magic on the screen. Clutching your hands at your chest, you noticed the slightest differences in the current drawing and the painting from the other night. Completely mesmerized, you almost missed it when Harry’s finger beckoned you closer.

“Sorry…” you let out a breath, speaking softly as you scooted closer to his table. “I shouldn’t be staring.”

“At the drawing or me?”

You weren’t sure if it was his question or his low, raspy tone that caught you off guard, but you felt a sudden high-pitched laugh rise from your throat and escape your lips. Shaking your head, you cursed yourself for blushing. You hated sounding like a giggling schoolgirl.

“Both,” you finally admitted.

Harry’s mouth spread slowly into a sexy grin, his eyes on you. “What time should I pick you up tomorrow?”

Stealing a swift look over your shoulder, you noticed Jill was still helping the customer.

“That’s up to you. I’m free all day.”

“Yeah?” Harry raised a brow. Then folding his arms on the table, he leaned closer, licking his lips. “That opens a world of possibilities, then.”

With a laugh, you pushed your hair behind your ear. “Does it?”

“Well, that depends on what you’re into.” You felt the color rise in your cheeks again, and Harry chuckled. “I’ll think of something. How ‘bout I pick you up at noon? We’ll have lunch and go from there.”

You smiled gently. “Sounds good.”

Realizing Jill had finished with his customer, you made your way back to the counter.

“So, what were you two chatting about over there?” she asked you.

“Huh? Oh, nothing.”

“Well, he made you laugh, whatever it was.”

“It was silly,” you shook your head, waving off her comment.

“Mhm.”

“What?” you shrugged, turning toward the espresso machine. “He’s funny.”

“He’s also staring at you.”

“What?” Nearly bumping into Jill as you twirled around, your eyes caught a glimpse of Harry’s just before he returned his attention to his iPad. A sudden warmth filled your senses and you felt like you might melt.

“Well…” you heard Jill remark. “That was…something.”

You pursed your lips as you glared at her. “It was nothing.”

“I beg to differ. First he makes you laugh, then he’s staring at you?”

“Jill!”

Breaking your train of thought and protest, the cafe door swung open then and two businessmen walked in. As soon as you took their order, a young woman entered, followed by three more. The lunch crowd was starting to trickle in.

Just as you had taken the two men’s orders to them and returned to the counter, you noticed Harry had packed up his things, his rucksack slung over his shoulder. You saw him look up and meet your gaze, an easy grin on his face. Lifting his hand, he gave you a wave, and you waved back as he exited the cafe.

Soon enough, the end of your shift arrived, and Melaina, another waitress, greeted you behind the counter to take your place. You couldn’t get home soon enough, prepared to take the longest, deepest nap of all time. But as soon as your head hit the pillow, you heard your phone ping with a text.

What was with the secrecy?

Confused, you simply typed, ???

You pretended you hadn’t seen my art before. You don’t want your friend to know?

To know what?

LOL ok, I get it. I can play along.

I’m not sure I know what you mean.

That was a lie. You knew what he was getting at. You also knew you weren’t interested in telling Jill - or anyone for that matter - about you and Harry because…you weren’t sure where this was going yet. It was too soon. And with everything that had led up to the first date, you certainly didn’t want everything to unravel and get worse than how it had started.

At least you think about me. Glad to know that.

You texted back the blushing emoji since that’s exactly what you were doing. Again.

Do you work tonight?

Yeah. I’m in my office now. Just wanted to text you first.

Oh ok. I’m about to take a nap. Have a good day!

Can I ring you tonight? Might be late.

Sure, that’s fine.

Have a great nap babe. xx

After laying your phone on your bedside table, you drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face.

“Want some more popcorn?” asked Shae, holding out the bowl between you.

“No, thanks,” you shook your head.

You were getting sleepy, your eyelids weighing down as you tried to focus on the end of the movie. A buzz from your left side startled you, and as you picked up your phone, a sly grin twitched your lips.

“Hello?”

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Just a sec.” Rising from the sofa, you addressed your roommate. “I’m gonna take this in my room.”

“Aw, but Y/N, the movie’s almost over!”

“It’s okay. Tell me how it ends.”

Shae huffed as she watched you round the couch and head for your room, shutting the door behind you.

“Sorry about that. I was watching a movie.”

“Oh. Don’t let me interrupt,” Harry insisted.

“It’s fine. I’ve seen it already.” You heard Harry chuckle low as you sat on your bed. “How was work?”

“Good,” Harry sighed. “But I’m glad it’s over so I can talk to you.”

“Wow, you’re laying it on thick already,” you teased.

“Heyyy. It’s the truth! I told you I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

“Mhm.”

“Almost came by the cafe yesterday just to see you. But I was afraid it might be a bit much.”

“Why? You should have. I was bored out of my skull yesterday.”

“Were you the only one working?”

“Yep, until closing.”

“Then I’m a stupid twit.”

You laughed out loud, quickly covering your mouth with your hand. This guy was already making you feel…things. You weren’t sure if you were ready.

“At least we have tomorrow. We’re still on, right?”

“Yes, of course,” you replied.

“I was thinking we could have a picnic if you’re up for it. The weather’s supposed to be lovely.”

“A picnic?”

“Yeah. Too cheesy?”

“No…” you swallowed hard and laid back on your pillow. “No, not at all. I’d like that.”

“Good,” Harry said with a smile in his voice. “Can’t wait to see you, love.”

You chuckled lightly. “You just saw me this morning.”

“I know. Funny, innit?”

“If you keep this up, you might get sick of me,” you jested.

Harry’s laugh rang through the phone, and you felt your heart skip. “I sincerely doubt it.”

You bit your lip as you tried to keep your thoughts in line.

“Honestly, babe?” Harry continued. “If I’d had my way, I would have come to yours straight from work to pick you up. And you’d be here with me in this bed now instead of there on the phone.”

Your breath caught in your throat before you gasped aloud. “Harry…”

His low chuckle only fueled the fire. “See what I mean? It’s a bit insane how much my thoughts revolve around you. I’m trying to be a gentleman though.”

You swallowed. “Are you saying you regret what happened Saturday night?”

“Fuck, no. I loved it. If I think about it hard enough, I can still taste you on my tongue.”

“Oh my God, I should probably hang up now.”

“Why?” laughed Harry. “Are you blushing, babe?”

“Indubitably.”

Harry chuckled harder. “You’re cute.”

“And you’re an insatiable flirt.”

“Can’t help it, honey. I enjoy teasing you.”

“And using pet names,” you remarked.

“That’s only ‘cause I like you. But if you don’t want me to…”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No? Which one do you like best?” asked Harry.

“Hmm. I don’t have a preference. I just want it to be natural.”

“Good answer. I like that.”

You chatted for a little while longer until you noticed the time was after 1AM. It was Harry, surprisingly, who suggested you both say goodnight.

“I’ll see you at noon, Y/N. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

You laid on your bed, atop your covers for another ten minutes or so, arms spread wide as you stared at the ceiling.

How had he managed it? In one day - not even a whole day because you’d only seen him for a couple hours at the cafe, and then talked to him on the phone for maybe another hour - Harry Styles had already turned your world topsy-turvy. You were feeling it. No, not love…that was silly. It was way too soon to have those kinds of feelings. But…feelings nonetheless. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to recall the last time you’d felt this way.

Excited. Blissful. Giddy.

Yeah, it was way too soon for this.

He was going to be there any minute. Having already gotten his text announcing he was on his way, you rushed to double check yourself in the mirror, pleased with your choice of the peasant blouse and jeans. Quickly slipping into your shoes, you nearly bumped into Shae when you opened your bedroom door.

“Oh. Hey. I thought you were working today.”

“Nope,” she said, popping her P. “I’m off. You look nice though. Where are you off to?”

“Um…nowhere.”

The sound of the doorbell made you jump. And when your roommate made a move toward the door, you wanted to scream or crawl under the table or…something. But you knew your time had run out. Stood frozen, you cringed as you watched Shae swing the door open.

“Oh! Hi…” she furrowed her brows.

“Hi…um, Shae, right?” you heard Harry mutter.

“Yeah…what…”

“I take it Y/N didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Shae’s glare shifted from Harry to you. “It’s that Harry guy.”

“Yeah, um…” you cleared your throat, opening the door wider. Your stomach flipped when your eyes met Harry’s who stared at you with a questioning gaze. “Harry and I are…on good terms now. We made amends.”

“Made amends? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s…” you sighed, looking at your friend, “it’s a long story. And it’s complicated. I probably should have told you, and I’m sorry. But I’ll tell you more about it later, okay?”

You stepped out onto the landing, giving Harry a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi, babe. You look beautiful.”

“What the hell is going on?” exclaimed Shae, her hands on her hips. “Are you seeing him now? After what he did to you?”

“Like I said, I’ll explain it all later. But to answer your question, yes.”

Her mouth agape, Shae stared at you incredulously as you waved goodbye and took Harry’s hand.

“Your roommate’s gonna hate me now,” remarked Harry when you reached his car.

“She already hates you. Because I hated you, remember? Don’t worry, once I tell her everything, she’ll adore you. She already thought you were hot. She’ll be relieved you’re not really an asshole.”

Harry cackled as he held open the door for you. “I dunno if I should be flattered or offended.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, rising on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “I think you’re hot and a sweetheart.”

Harry beamed his dimpled smile as he rounded the car and got behind the wheel. His expression matched the gorgeous weather that he’d proclaimed was imminent. Without a cloud in the sky, you rode next to Harry in his car as he drove down familiar roads until he turned down a side street that led to the park. While it had regretfully been a while since you’d visited, you still considered it one of your favorite places. Even though there had been no way for Harry to know that, you still felt grateful.

After finding a place to park, Harry opened the back door to retrieve a tartan blanket which he handed to you, along with a large basket. Grinning, he took your hand to lead you across the grass. Stopping near a tree, he set the basket on the ground and reached for the blanket which you helped spread out on the green.

“I have to say, Harry,” you paused, biting your lip, “when you mentioned a picnic, this was immediately what I was picturing. But then I told myself I was being too literal. I truly was not expecting you to have an actual picnic basket.”

“It wouldn’t be a picnic otherwise,” he stated matter-of-factly, sitting on the blanket.

“I don’t know. You could have very easily brought something in a paper bag. Or even stopped off at McDonald’s.”

Shaking his head, Harry snorted as he reached inside the basket. “You need to give me more credit than that.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just very out of the ordinary for me.”

“How so?” Harry asked as he set out what looked to be individually wrapped mini sandwiches.

“Well, I…no one’s ever…did you make these?”

Harry raised a brow. “Of course.”

“Wow. These look fancy! And delicious. What’s in them?”

“Um…salami, mozzarella, pesto, basil, spinach and tomato.”

You continued to stare at Harry as he pulled more items from the picnic basket. He had a mix of fruit, some kind of layered salad in mason jars, a small quiche, and a large carafe of water with lemon and mint. With a sense of contentment, you settled comfortably on the blanket as Harry poured the water into plastic cups. Handing you one, he smiled.

“Dig in, babe.”

Clearing your throat, you blinked. “Sorry, I…I’m overwhelmed.”

“It’s just food, darling.”

Your chest felt tight and heavy as you shook your head. “No, it’s not. It’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

Setting down your cup, you leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips. He grinned against you before reciprocating, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap. Your kisses continued, his soft, pillowy lips combined with his intoxicating cologne making you light-headed, until you finally broke away.

“Sorry…” you breathed.

“Don’t be,” Harry blinked slowly, his long lashes brushing softly against his cheeks. “Reckon I started off on the right foot this time. I only hope I didn’t peak too early.”

A small giggle escaped your throat as you sat back. “Well, let’s not forget, I haven’t actually eaten the food yet.”

“What will you do if it’s rubbish?” Harry laughed.

“Guess I’ll have to walk home.”

Harry continued to snicker as he playfully rolled his eyes, handing you a plate. “I guarantee you’ll at least like the fruit. And probably the sandwiches.”

Grabbing one of the mini baguettes, you unwrapped it and took a large bite. Immediately your mouth danced with glee as you took in the delectable flavors. Pleased by the reaction on your face, Harry opened one of the mason jars and spooned out the salad onto your plate. Then he cut a portion of the quiche and laid it beside the salad.

“You don’t have to feed me,” you insisted.

“What if I want to?”

“Hmm…then I guess I’ll let you.” Picking up the small pie with your fingers, you took a savory bite. “God, this is by far the best lunch I’ve ever had.”

“Glad to hear it,” Harry beamed, handing you a plastic fork for your salad and taking a bite of his own.

“Do you like to cook?”

“I do, actually. It’s one of my hobbies, you could say.”

“You’re full of surprises, Harry,” you commented before taking a sip of water. “Although, I shouldn’t be surprised. I already knew you’re a man of many talents.”

You caught the smirk on Harry’s lips as he looked down at his plate. You both ate in silence for a bit, enjoying each other’s company and the ideal weather. You gazed around you, taking in the atmosphere. You watched a couple who tossed a frisbee back and forth, and a young mother pushing her child in a stroller. When you took the last bite of your quiche, Harry surprised you again by leaning over with a strawberry between his fingers. With a grin, you popped open your mouth and allowed him to feed it to you.

When nearly all of the food had been devoured, and you helped Harry pack up the remains into the basket and discarded the trash in a nearby waste bin, you laid back on the blanket, enjoying the warm sun on your face. While it was still a rather cool day, the sunshine made it pleasant.

“Be right back,” you heard Harry announce. “Gonna get something out of the car.”

Squinting your eyes, you watched him pick up the basket and take it with him. When he returned, you noticed the notebook in his hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked, lifting yourself up on your elbows.

“No, lay back down,” he instructed, taking his seat next to you.

When he opened the notebook, he slid a pencil out from beneath the spiral and began to sketch.

“Are you drawing?” you inquired softly.

His green eyes lifting from his paper, he gave a sly grin.

“What are you- you’re not drawing me!” you exclaimed rolling onto your side.

“Stay still,” Harry chuckled. “Lay back the way you were.”

With a huff, you slowly moved to your previous position as you listened to the sound of the pencil against the paper. You silently wondered how long you had to remain still as you continued to watch Harry’s gaze shift from you to his notebook. Your breaths quickened as his eyes roamed your body, making you a bit self-conscious. Finally, you saw his lips twitch into a sexy grin, and he lowered his paper and shut the book.

“Do I get to see?”

Instead of answering, Harry laid down next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

“Harry!”

With a snicker, Harry lifted the notebook. “Alright. But just so you know, it’s just a quick sketch. And it does not fully reflect the way I see you.”

Grimacing, you glared at him. “Is that good or bad?”

“Here,” Harry laughed, opening the book to the page he’d just sketched and handing it to you. While it was indeed a quick sketch, maybe even a bit messy by some standards, you were amazed at how much it looked like you.

“That’s…remarkable,” you commented softly, choosing the best word.

Turning your head to look at him, you noticed he was already staring at you. When he rolled over and brushed your hair from your face, you lowered the notebook to your side. He kissed you tenderly at first, so softly that your entire body felt like you were lying on a cloud, and not the blanket on the ground. Your hands traveled around to his back while he hovered over you, lifting his head slightly to look into your eyes. Though he didn’t speak, his eyes spoke volumes. The only words you really needed right then. And when his mouth met yours again, and you eagerly allowed his tongue access, you knew he’d heard your words as well.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed when he broke free, his forehead resting against yours. “Your lips drive me mad, baby. I could kiss you all day.”

With a smile, you lifted your hand to his jaw, rubbing his scruffy chin. “Same here.”

After a few more kisses, Harry sat up, running his fingers through his hair. “I had another idea for this afternoon, but do you mind if we stop at my flat first?”

“Not at all. What is your other idea?”

“If you’d like, we could visit the art gallery.”

You sat up urgently. “Where your art is? I would love that!”

“Yeah?” Satisfied with your response, Harry rose from the blanket and reached his hand out to help you up. Then lightly brushing the back of his hand against your cheek, he looked like he was about to say something, but his words escaped him. You didn’t mind, however. When you helped him fold up the blanket and walked with him to the car, you had a feeling the day was going to be filled with unspoken words - gestures of mutual feelings.

After putting away the rest of the food and freshening up in Harry’s bathroom, you were excited to go see his art on display at the gallery.

“Harry! So good to see you!” greeted a man in a suit.

“You as well, Sherod,” said Harry, shaking the man’s hand. “How are things?”

“Can’t complain, can’t complain,” Sherod nodded emphatically. “We are still waiting patiently on your newest project, yes?”

“Yeah, I’m still…tweaking it.”

“Ah, don’t tweak too much, Harry. You know the best art is always what comes naturally, from the heart.” As Harry shrugged, you noticed Sherod making eye contact with you. “And who is this delicate creature?”

“Sherod, this beautiful lady is Y/N. I’ve come to show her around.”

Color rose in your cheeks at both Sherod’s and Harry’s compliments. Not to mention the way Harry had his hand on your lower back.

“Miss Y/N, so lovely to have you here today. Please enjoy your visit.”

Once Sherod was out of earshot, Harry grinned at you and gestured to the left. You joined him in the large room where many art pieces were displayed on the walls and on pedestals, some encased. For the most part, you simply nodded as Harry pointed out some of the art he liked, commenting a bit when something caught your eye.

“I especially like this one,” Harry said when he stopped in front of a large canvas of greens and blues, tiny streaks of gold in between that resembled marble. “I sometimes come here just to stare at it for a bit. It calms me.”

“It looks like the ocean,” you agreed. “But also…a little like an enchanted forest, if that makes sense. Very tranquil.”

Turning his head to look at you, Harry opened his mouth. Once again, he seemed unable to speak, so you simply smiled back at him. Running your hand down his arm, you walked behind him to inspect the next painting.

“This one, however, has a different feeling altogether,” you remarked. “It’s sexy…a bit sensual, but not necessarily in a calming way. Kind of reminds me of pent up energy, ready to explode.”

Standing behind you, Harry placed his hands on your waist. You felt his breath in your hair before he pressed his lips to your head. You hummed softly at his sweet gesture, covering his hands with yours.

“Where’s your art, Harry?” you whispered.

Clearing his throat, he released his hands from your body and stepped toward the right. “Over here.”

At the end of the room, Harry stopped in front of a display of art that you recognized from his website. Seeing it in person was different from seeing it on a screen. It took your breath away. Mesmerized, you inspected each detail, every line, every stroke. You could feel Harry’s stare as you walked around his mini gallery. When you took in the last piece, you looked up at him.

“You’re amazing,” you declared. “It’s all so extraordinary.”

“Thank you, love,” he blinked slowly.

Taking his hands, you smiled. “Is it okay to kiss you in here?”

Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing. “I think it’s perfectly okay.”

His lips met yours as you lifted your hands to his neck, pulling him closer.

“I know, I have nothing really to go on,” you added when your mouths separated. “I’m not all that knowledgeable in art. I just know what moves me and what doesn’t. And yours definitely does.”

“Baby…” Harry breathed. “God, love, you’ve rendered me speechless today.”

Giving him one extra kiss, you took his hand again and gave it a squeeze. He didn’t need to say anything.

When you rounded the corner, however, Harry stopped in his tracks, an immediate look of disdain on his face. Following his point of vision, you noticed a familiar looking blonde at the reception desk. When she turned around, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder and lifted her chin.

“Hello, Harry.”

“Nicolette. What are you doing here?”

Of course. The former arm candy.

“Came to do some business with Sherod. Daddy’s having one of his restaurants remodeled, and he wants to buy all new art for it.”

“I see,” Harry frowned. With almost a shutter, he quickly cleared his throat and addressed you. “Sorry, Y/N, this is Nicolette Eisman, Nicolette, Y/N Y/LN.”

“Nice to meet you,” you greeted, gritting your teeth and hoping she didn’t recognize you from Zelda’s.

“Pleasure,” Nicolette said thinly, not bothering to even look you in the eye, her glare still on Harry. “How’s the moon series coming along? Have you finished it yet? Or are you going to wait another three months agonizing over it?”

“I don’t reckon that’s any of your concern anymore.”

“Ouch! Come now, Harry,” Nicolette retorted. “I thought we ended on better terms than that.”

“You thought wrong,” Harry said flatly.

Wanting to crawl into a hole, you were relieved when you saw Sherod emerge from a back room, holding out both hands to Nicolette.

“Darling! So good to see you!” he greeted her with the same emphatic energy he’d given Harry.

“C’mon, let’s go,” you heard him mutter before guiding you to the exit and out the door.

Once in the car, Harry revved up the engine before running his hands down his face with an exasperated sigh.

“Harry…” you said softly.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “I definitely didn’t mean to run into her.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“She just…infuriates me. But…ugh, it has nothing to do with you. I don’t want this to ruin our day. I’m sorry.”

“Harry,” you said again, reaching your hand out to touch his arm. “It’s okay. It was bound to happen sooner or later. She obviously still does business here. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Yeah.”

Scooting closer to him, you smiled reassuringly. “Besides. I’m already having the best day with you. One snarky blonde is not going to ruin it.”

His million dollar smile sent a spark through your bloodstream and made you weak in the knees. When he pulled you into a kiss, he didn’t hesitate to let you know he wanted to deepen it, his tongue eager to fill your mouth. His hands cupping your face, he moaned against your lips, sending a whole other surge of arousal to your privates. You nearly gasped when he released you, your face warm with desire.

“Come home with me?” He asked it in a question form, but it sounded more like a demand. “I don’t want this day to end.”

“Me neither.”

“I’ll cook us dinner and we can watch the sunset. Then if you want, we can go to the shop, and I’ll give you your tattoo.”

“My tattoo? Tonight? But I still don’t know what I wanna get.”

“The heart moon. That art of mine you’d liked. I was working on it yesterday at the cafe.”

“You were working on a tattoo for me?”

“Yeah…” he smirked. “Rather presumptuous of me, I know. But I thought you might like it.”

Your smile widening, you nodded. “I do.”

You sat out on the small terrace of Harry’s apartment, overlooking the city, the sun descending before you in shades of orange, purple and red. Harry had cooked another lovely meal, this time bringing out a bottle of rosé as you sat barefoot on the same blanket from the picnic.

“Gorgeous, innit?” you heard him ask when you took a sip of wine.

“Breathtaking.”

“It’s my favorite thing about this flat. When there’s a full moon, you can see it clearly, like a big ball in the sky. It’s what inspired those paintings.”

“Harry, this…this is so romantic. This whole day. It’s been incredible.”

Harry feigned offense, a tiny smirk on his face. “What? You didn’t think I could be romantic?”

“No, I…well, the restaurant the other night was romantic too, it’s just…I wasn’t expecting this.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “I guess I figured…you know…after Saturday night, at the tattoo shop…”

“I’m not after a quick fix, Y/N.”

“No?”

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. “Let me make something clear, Y/N,” he said, scooting closer to you. “I’m immensely attracted to you. I’m excited to explore every single inch of your body, and to share mine with you. In every way you can imagine. But I reckon, if we’re on the same page…and I’m pretty sure we are…then we have plenty of time for all of that.”

You gulped, then blew out a breath. “We do?”

Harry reached a hand up to push a curl from your cheek. “I hope so.” His fingers lingered against your skin before he lightly ghosted the tips across your jaw. “You like me, yeah?”

You shivered at his touch as well as the way he was staring at you so intently. “Of course.”

“I like you, too. And the fact that I haven’t been able to get you off my mind tells me there’s something between us. Something I’m eager to explore further.”

“Really?”

Nodding, Harry set down his glass and reached for yours, placing it next to his.

“I’ve been…feeling something today, haven’t you? It’s like…you get me.”

“Yeah? How?” you asked.

“Like at the gallery. When you told me what those paintings made you feel. I feel the same thing. And when I sketched you at the park. You didn’t laugh at me, even though it was basically a rubbish scribble. It’s like you’re willing to open up a space for me in your heart. And I appreciate it so much. I…fuck, I dunno what I’m saying…I-”

Silencing him with your kiss, you moved even closer to him, and he ardently pulled you into his lap. His kisses were thirsty, as though it wasn’t the hundredth time your lips had touched that day.

“Harry…” you breathed. “I do get you. And I’ve been feeling it as well, all day. Just the fact that you wanted to show me your art at the gallery said so much. Not in a show-off kind of way; I didn’t take it like that. But more like you were willing to share a little bit more of yourself with me. Something you take pride in. That’s special to me, and means a lot.”

Harry smiled wide, running his hands up and down your back.

“Does that mean you might be willing to share something with me?”

“Like what?” you blushed.

“Like…your writing.”

“Oh,” you scoffed. “I haven’t written anything in ages.”

“Well…when you do? Can I read?”

You smiled. “Deal.”

“Good. Now…you ready to go get your tattoo?”

“No,” you sighed and shook your head.

“No?”

“Let’s save it for another day.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. I hope to have lots more of these with you.”

“Alright. I can’t promise anything though. I reckon I’ve run out of ideas.”

You playfully pushed his shoulder, making him lean back. “Stop it.”

“No, I’m perfectly fine with that,” he grinned. “Elated even.”

He kissed you fervently then, his tongue wanting nothing more than to wrestle with yours. He filled your mouth with wanton and shameless desire, your own appetite growing so much, you thought you might come undone. When his left hand cupped your breast while his right held your neck, you gasped.

“Can we go to the bedroom?” you inquired against his lips.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, his chest falling with heavy breaths.

“Yes. I know you’d been holding back all day, trying to be a gentleman. And I appreciate the chivalry, I do. But I need to feel you now.”

A mere nod is all it took for you to rise from Harry’s lap. This time you held your hand out for him the way he had for you at the park. Taking your hand in his, he led you to his bedroom, his large bed claiming the majority of the space. You caught a quick glimpse of another painting above his bed before he laid you down and kissed you passionately.

“Baby…” he cooed. “Tell me what you like.”

With an inward chuckle, you grinned. “Somehow I knew you’d be the kind of guy to ask that.”

“Why? Don’t you want me to please you?”

“Very much.”

“Then tell me. I wanna make you feel good.”

“I think we both know you have no problems with that.”

Harry chuckled then, his sly smirk returning to his handsome face. “Alright then. Can I undress you?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, sitting up slightly to allow Harry to pull your peasant blouse over your head. When his eyes traveled down your chest, you saw them darken with lust. And when he unhooked the front closure of your bra to reveal your bare breasts, his breath hitched in his throat.

“Jesus, babe, you’re beautiful.”

As you laid back down, Harry removed his own shirt, tossing it on the floor. Then he hovered over you, kissing you deeply once again. His necklace tapped against your bare skin as his mouth traveled down your neck and chest and between your breasts. His hands cupped them while his wet mouth sucked hungrily on your nipples, giving each equal attention.

When his lips moved further south, you felt him unbutton your jeans, tugging them as you lifted your butt so he could pull them down and off. Harry grinned when he spied your lace panties, a black pair this time.

“One day,” he commented, “when we’re both off from work and have nothing to do, I want you to spend the day here with me wearing nothing but your sexy lacy panties.”

You giggled delightfully as he grinned at you, his hands running up your thighs.

“You are so fucking sexy. I wanna make you scream my name, babe. But I’m afraid I might not last. Just being honest.”

Before you could retort, Harry slid your panties down your legs, caressing your feet on the way. Then he stood up and removed his own jeans and underwear. You barely had time to process the view of his delicious body before he was above you again, kissing you on the way up.

“Harry…baby…” you breathed hard when his mouth found your nipples again and his hand slid between your thighs, finding your wetness.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Tell me.”

“I need you. Now. Please.”

You gulped hard, trying to catch your breath as Harry’s thumb teased your clit. You could already feel yourself dripping, and when he slid his fingers up your slit and brought them to his mouth, you whined his name again.

“I’m here, babe,” he promised. “Just need a condom.”

Retrieving one from his bedside table, he rolled it over his length as you watched. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for his size. Then when he situated himself between your legs, he kissed you once again. When he lifted his head, his eyes were a dark, emerald green, his lips pink and swollen. You ran your hands up his inked chest and down his shoulders, grabbing hold of his biceps.

“I’m ready for you, love. Are you ready for me?”

You nodded as you looked into his eyes just before he pushed into you. You gasped even though he was considerate to be slow and easy as he moved. Before long you adjusted to his girth, your juices quickly dripping down your thighs.

You moaned at the sensation, the friction good enough to make you want to weep. Harry’s own groans and low pitched sounds sent your body trembling until you wrapped your legs around him, holding on tightly.

“Taking me so well, Y/N,” you heard him say. “That fuckin’ pretty pussy of yours. So wet.”

Mumbling sweet nothings in your ear, Harry rolled into you deeper. You thought he whispered something else about you feeling so good, but you were already on too much of a high to make out the words. Finally, grasping for the covers underneath you, you threw your head back and called out to God.

“Yeah baby,” Harry moaned. “I’m so close already.”

“Me too,” you breathed. “Holy shit, Harry. Fuck me!”

With a grunt, Harry shifted his body, grabbing your wrists and holding them down as he thrusted harder and faster. He cursed between heavy breaths, his voice quivering as he called you baby and honey while you took him deeper. Your toes curled and more moans escaped your lips until you knew you were close to the edge. Raking your fingernails down his back, you grabbed hold of his ass, pulling your legs back and wide.

“Fuck! Yesss!” Harry cried, pounding into you so hard, the headboard hit the wall. He propped himself up by grabbing it, sending you both sliding toward it until your head was flush against it.

Reaching between you, you took Harry’s balls in your hand and caressed them. You watched his eyes roll back in his head, his mouth gaping open as he continued to fuck you. He cursed again as he licked his lips, veins in his temples thick and prominent before you heard him let out a guttural moan, his hips thrusting a few more times. Then with a tiny whimper, his body fell against yours, his face buried in your neck.

“Shit,” he exhaled. “God damn, baby, you’re amazing.”

“Hmm, so are you,” you cooed, tracing invisible shapes across his back.

“No, ‘m not. I wanted to make you come first.”

With a giggle, you whispered, “I’m not even mad about that.”

Harry lifted his head then to look at you. You smiled at him, his beautiful face wet with perspiration, his curls messy atop his head. As he removed the condom and threw it away in the bin, he grinned at you shyly.

“I told you I might not last.”

“It’s totally okay.”

“Mmm, no it’s not. But I can still make you come.”

Harry crawled down your body like a snake, stopping at your waist. You opted not to protest. After all, he was willing to please you. Who were you to say no?

Gliding his hands down your thighs, he lifted them, wasting no time. His mouth was on your clit before you had time to take a breath, and a small cry left your lips at the contact. He hummed against you, creating a vibration that nearly made you come right then. Clutching at the sheets again, you felt your knees shake, your entire body reaching a new climax. Panting, you felt Harry’s tongue play with and tease your pussy. Wanting to come so badly, but also not wanting the unbelievable sensation to end, you bit your lip, moaning as tears began to well in your eyes. Finally, as a loud cry rose from your core, you grabbed hold of his head, thrusting your hips against him. With jagged breaths, you moaned his name over and over until your legs fell slack and he released his mouth, sucking up the remaining juices.

“How was that, sweetheart?” you heard him ask from far away. Or at least it seemed far away. You couldn’t tell. Time and distance did not exist in that moment. You barely knew your name. Your reply was a mere cry of exhaustion, and you heard Harry chuckle.

“I’ll take that to mean it was good.”

With a sigh, you managed to open your eyes and look at him. “Better than good.”

Harry grinned, crawling back up your body. “I’m glad. I really enjoy making you come. But I hope next time it won’t just be from my tongue.”

You would have joked then and told him his tongue was pretty magical, but you decided instead to just stare at his gorgeous face as you ran his fingers across his jaw and traced his lips. He seemed to enjoy it, his eyelids fluttering softly, a content peaceful expression making you want to pull him closer.

“Y/N,” he whispered low after a minute or two.

“Yes?”

“Will you stay here with me tonight?”

Though your heart was pounding in your chest, and butterflies danced in your stomach, the request combined with the look on his handsome face felt more calm than the tranquil painting at the gallery.

“I can’t think of a better way to end the most perfect day,” you replied.

Pulling you even closer, Harry’s lips met yours, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You melted into the kiss, just like the melting moon, dripping into a perfect tattooed heart.

If you enjoyed, please like, reblog and comment. xx

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry fanfic #harry styles series #harry series #enemies to lovers #tattoo artist!harry

117 notes · View notes

gatheringbones · 2 months

Text

wickie stamps, from I am your Frankenstein, from leatherfolk: radical sex, people, politics and practice, edited by mark thompson, 1991

[“When I, in a scene, tediously lay out my implements, I honor my mother's labors and my brother's sacrifice. After cutting my beloved, I methodically wipe up her spilled blood, bind her wounds, and clean the scalpel. Then I wipe down the room. I, too, drop to my knees between her widespread legs and worship her femininity. Only then do the doors to this sacrificial space slowly close. Then I lift my head and gaze with bleary visions into the eyes of my beloved, which are trusted beacons. I am left with a sadness for my brother, who, unlike my beloved, had to let his blood alone. But I am grateful that I, unlike my momma, am no longer hostage to my brother's masculinity or his homicidal/ suicidal whims. Yet as my watering mouth and cunt attest, I have retrieved this cherished womanly act from the undeclared war zone called my past.

My S/ M scenes are the grappling hooks that dredge up these matriarchal memories. When I place a switchblade at my beloved's neck as she cowers at my knee with dripping cunt, I remember myself at age seven, standing at the top of an endless stairway. At the bottom of the stairs is my oldest sister with her boot on my daddy's chest. She's pinned his bourbon- soaked body to the floor. In her upraised hands, arched high above her head, glistens a machete. Its fierceness is intensified by her rage. Next to her, less sure and looking to her older sister for guidance, stands another sister, who, with candelabra held high over her head, hesitantly mimics her older sibling's stance. Both of my sisters have felled the monster called my daddy.

But powerful women have not always been the center of my life. Although my first taste of lesbianism was in the children's home, the first three decades of my life were exclusively heterosexual. My boyfriends ran the gamut of wealthy, overeducated bastards to intriguing but dangerous ex- cons. During these years, the horrors of addiction ate away at my life. But, as in my childhood, there were hints of my While involved with my old man the heroin addict, I enjoyed the scheming, the hustling, and the tension as we waited to cop drugs. Although I was never an IV drug user, I enjoyed the ritual of preparing his works, tying him off, and, once he'd hit a vein, meditating on the blood that slowly swirled into his syringe. Later, while involved with another man, I loved hanging out with him in pool halls while he hustled customers or strutting down the street on his arm dressed in my suede hot pants, high- heeled, over- the- knee boots, and short leather jackets.

It was not until I was thirty that I took my first woman lover. Being someone who would, in order to survive, merge with whatever scene I had to, I melded into her life of brunches, women's concerts, and softball. Because I had stopped using drugs and booze, this relationship was the most stable I ever had. For the first time in my life, with the exception of my siblings, I met strong, independent women.

But, inadvertently, I had walked away from the roots of my eroticism- roots that were intricately spliced into a complicated past. Despite the freedom that I immediately gleaned from claiming my lesbianism, my sexual lust dissipated, just as it had in my heterosexual relationships. Like twenty years earlier, I feared that I would have to sit before a sexologist who would convince me I was frigid.

But this time, I fought back against those inner voices that said there was something wrong with me. The erotic hunger I had felt when I watched my mother's ritual, wore men's clothes, or witnessed my sister's fighting back became familiar again. I, who could not even say the word sex or even leave the lights on in bed, began marching into women's bookstores and picking up lesbian erotic magazines. I rented porno graphic videos. During sex, I started wearing leather and integrating mild bondage and domination. I threw out my milquetoast wardrobe and wore only jeans, leather jackets. and boots. I chopped off my hair. I got tattoos. I came to look like what I had become: a lesbian sadomasochist.”]

#wickie stamps #transcribed #lesbian literature #history stuff #cw abuse

25 notes · View notes

ivtherapytreatments · 2 years

Text

Liquivida Louge offers a variety of Medical Spa, Aesthetics and IV therapy Services in Palm Beach Gardens, PGA, Florida. When you visit our Liquivida West Palm Beach location, you'll experience a true healthy escape. Our MedSpa offers so much more than a traditional medical office by combining proactive health and wellness solutions that help you look and feel your absolute best as you age.

Our medical spa offers everything from vitamin IV therapy, PRP facials, anti-aging solutions, hormone replacement therapy, along with a collection of facials to keep you radiant.

Give us a call and request a free consultation so we can help you take control of your Vida Journey. If you need directions or want information about surrounding areas, you may visit this location overview page.

Services offered at this location:

Nutrient IV therapy

Custom IV drips

Micronutrient testing

Concierge service

High-dose vitamin C

B-complex shots

NAD IV drip

Chelation therapy

Comprehensive wellness lab testing

#Nutrient IV therapy #Custom IV drips #Chelation therapy #IV therapy Services in Palm Beach Garden

0 notes

itstokkii · 4 months

Note

All these anons just make me want to talk about Turkey more. What are your favorite Turkey headcanons? Personally I love to think that Sadik writes poetry in his spare time, and is very, very good at it.

As someone who ships Turkfra because of how fascinating the history between France and the Ottoman Empire is (Franco-Ottoman alliance) I like to think that they would both really bond over each other’s rich poetry culture. Not to mention their rich cuisines. Maybe they cook together in the evenings, or take turns cooking and surprising each other with elaborate dinners.

Youre so right

aph turkey hcs

- physically he's around 180cm, perhaps he had visible muscles during the ottoman empire period but he's mellowed out now and let a little softness take over his form. He put on a little bit of weight bc he's a sweet tooth but it fluctuates from time to time.

- definitely keeps cat treats in his pocket for the stray cats of istanbul!! and when he fishes he leaves a portion for the cats to eat!

- while he is a cat person and owns cats(one of them is named tombili ��), he also owns a few dogs too! he probably gets along with germany on that part(maybe korea? though korea owns the cute fluffy tiny dogs that feel the need to eat your face off when it makes eye contact with you).

- is a man of the kitchen. aside from cooking the most banger meals, he dabbles in tweaking recipes or creating new ones altogether! ive seen enough turkish dessert accounts on instagram to know he'd make a bomber cake with coconut shavings, or a pretty good custard.

- the coconut shavings are important btw they're like on every single homemade turkish chocolate cake for some reason??(source: baby tokki grew up with a lot of turkish family friends)

- sorry i have to do this but...he has mediocre drip 🥲 sometimes he dresses like your average old man or middle aged dad and then sometimes it's so obvious that he's trying to dress like the youngsters.. he def has his knockoff Adidas tracksuits and they always come in clutch

- he's not an old man however. he was born as one of the many tribes running around in the seljuk era before he eventually became the ottoman empire. physically...around his mid 20s to early 30s?

- and cuz he has turkish dad vibes...he regularly watches soccer games. like he lays down on the couch elbow propped up eating pistachios as he watches soccer in a Galatasaray shirt(actually turkish fans of hetalia pls tell me who hed be a fan of bc I don't regularly watch turkish soccer)

- regularly plays volleyball!

- life of the party at weddings tbh, especially those rural ones

- very hospitable! he'll arrange a table full of treats and black tea for you and won't take no for an answer as he brags about how hospitable he is.

- when you're at his house DO NOT EVER suggest getting takeout. he will stare at you with a >:0 face

- WILL spill the tea over tea. man's got enough connections to tell you abt who's cheating on who etc. while he has his whole spread of treats and black tea out he'll keep you up on everything. when he goes "Ok so basically" that's when you brace yourself because OH BOY is someone in a secret relationship with someone else and that person you'd always assumed was super shy actually sprinkled salt on their ex's backyard

- the ac in his istanbul apartment keeps breaking(good luck with that man 😔)

- that's why in the summer he spends a big chunk of his paycheck on icecream. bro makes sure to always have icecream stocked on him at all times(just like me fr !!). he'd even eat it in the winter he loves it that much.

- also at the same time he drinks hot tea in the 40-50 degree summer as well, another win for the turkuzbek fans !

- big into architecture, and back in the day it was custom to write a poem to commemorate a new building. he definitely wrote a few but spent forever thinking about how to write it and pissed a lot of people off because they were waiting for the poem lol

- i actually really like fraturk's dynamic! because theyve got a lot of history together, it would be terrible to ignore. i think they have definitely gotten together during the Franco-Ottoman alliance lol.

- one time the french wanted to flex on austria × spain by going "oh yeah??? well we got turkey!!" and commissioned a huge super ornate crown to gift to suleiman the great. see the funny part about this is um. the turks didn't wear crowns. so suleiman never wore it lol

turkey, holding the crown: uhmmmm... wall decoration I guess?? this is awkward

- the name "turquoise" comes from the French "turkish" to describe the gem. i guess that's a fraturk win??? since we all associate that color with turkey now

- they'd probably try to one up each other with the dinners they cook! (can france handle lahmacun??? tune in later today at 11pm to find out !!)

- coffee guy x tea guy with the whole parisian coffee culture and turkish tea culture thing. (except I mean. turkish coffee also exists so)

- I wanna think france tries to help turkey with his drip situation but. turkey always got that inner middle aged dad in him it's not going anywhere

- bulgaria likes going to turkeys place cuz the stuff there is dirt cheap ~~~~!!! rip the lira you would have loved economic stability

- speaking of bulgaria, bulgaria greece and turkey argue a lot over who invented yogurt. turkey thinks he's got a stake in it because of the etymology of yogurt(yoğurtmak), but like the bacteria to make yogurt is called lactobacillius bulgaricus, but everyone thinks of greek yogurt...yeah you can see why they're all arguing

- speaking of arguing he's ratioed saudi a couple times on twitter lol

- he also posts those ironic turk/turan copy pastas as well

- egypt kinda doesn't like him. during the ottoman empire turkey launched egypt to suppress arab revolts like a pokemon.

*putting down fingers* "the greeks don't like us, egypt doesn't like us, saudi definitely doesn't like us....bulgaria likes us cuz we're a cheap travel destination for them..." - my turkish business teacher in highschool, 2023

- gets along well with korea(uhoh BIAS incoming !!!) due to their history beginning from the korean war. the turkish brigade was the only military unit that built a school for korean orphans. there's a story of a soldier taking care of a korean orphan, but he wasn't able to adopt her. they were separated for years after that until one day they reunited. they'd also suffered the third most losses in the war. that's why we call turkey our "older brother country."

- there's even a turkish culture center in seoul(which baby tokki went to a lot lol). recently turkish kaymak has been trending since one of the top korean celebrity chefs paik joongwon visited turkey a while back to try food. people have been traveling to turkey to go to the exact stores and try those foods as well. there's a lot of kebab shops in korea! the turkish presence in korea was the starting point to accommodate muslims in korea as well.

- all of this to say korea and turkey have a mutual admiration and korea definitely calls turkey oppa or hyung. korea also tries to get him to change his drip but NOTHJNG CAN DEFEAT THE STEADFAST TURKISH MIDDLE AGED MAN RAAAH 🇹🇷🇹🇷🇹🇷

- I've said it before I'll say it again: turkey cannot hold a normal conversation with mongolia because he'll always go "OH MY FELLOW NOMAD STEPPE ALTAIC BROTHER HOW ARE YOU DOING!!!" what???

- same with the central asians tbh given their nomadic history as well. he was the first nation to recognize all of their indepences fom russia. he gets along with turkmenistan a lot because they're the closest languages to each other(both in oghuz family) and a lot of turkmens go to turkey to study at their universities! the governments quite stagnant with their policies however, so turkey's having a hard time convincing her to join the turkic council as a full time member. they give me a gojo and megumi vibe for some reason lol

- kazakhstan 🤝 turkey: both having the asian/european identity crisis

- in terms of first meetings, the kazakh khanate and ottoman empire first established diplomatic relations in 1713, and along with uzbekistan, tried to seek turkey's help in the face of an expanding russian empire.

- nowadays, turkey and kazakhstan are the ones to both try to stir up that regional/turkic unity among the central asians. they've gained some small wins along the way lol. in fact, turkey, kazakhstan, and kyrgyzstan were the founding members of the turkic council! kazakhstan admires all that turkey's doing for them but sometimes thinks he's too cocky. actually all the central asians think he's cocky to certain extents lol

- bro gets along a little better with hungary now and that could be because of the whole "huns=turkic?" debate resurfacing in hungary which is why they somehow landed a spot in the turkic council as well???

uzb kaz kyrg turk azer @ hungary: white woman jumpscare,

- he and hungary regularly bother prussia whenever they're in germany lol

- scraps w the netherlands bc tulips come from him!!! not from Licorice Man!!!!!

- fluctuating relationship with iran over the years

- was a fanboy of iran during the seljuk empire until she joined the khwarazmian empire(uzb's mom lol) and then he hated her

- also close with: azerbaijan(who may or may not be his number one fanboy), japan

Here's everything I could squeeze out of my brain lol hope you like it!!

a good chunk of these hcs are by @peonycats and @hetalia-fannn btw!! sorry for not initially crediting u guys i forgot 😭

#hetalia #tokki writes #aph turkey #hws turkey #sadik adnan #tokki answers

33 notes · View notes

notiddygxthgf · 1 year

Text

9. "daybreak"

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, so much more...

★ a/n: omg. I am so sorry for disappearing for a month... finals have been cray cray.. also my grandma died rip. ive been carefully crafting this for a month and updates will flow much quicker after this!! shit gets real tho... beware. (yall know the drill, comment ur thoughts n wishes).

★ w.c.; 5.2k

previous part | next part

YOU WOKE UP TO A COLD, EMPTY BED. As the morning sun peeked lazily through the thin curtains, they cast a wam glow across the hardwood floor. Your hair was a tousled mess atop your pillow, legs still sore from the night you had shared with Wakasa – though the activities had trailed well into this morning. You opened your eyes, disoriented for a brief moment as you blinked a few times. You shifted to the right, and then realized that you were alone.

The realization brought a pang of sadness that fluttered in your chest. You reached out to feel the empty space beside you, sweaty fingers trailing over the cool sheets – sheets that had been twisted between your fingers only a few hours earlier.

There was a sharp pain in your back as you sat up, though it didn’t compare to the overwhelming sense of loneliness that came with waking up alone. The memories of the previous night flooded your mind and filled you with a sense of longing you couldn’t deny. You recalled the way Wakasa’s eyes bore into yours, lips dripping with passionate praise as he claimed your body. Then you recalled the sound of his laughter, the hushed conversations, the gentle, intimate touches – in the quiet stillness of the morning, you were alone.

You should have known that he would leave in the morning. Thats how hook-ups usually worked. He’d had his fun with you and he vanished like thin air. Under normal circumstances, you would have thought nothing of it. Just fun. That’s all it was supposed to be.

But still, you couldn’t help but yearn for him; for the feeling of his hair between your fingers, for the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around your body. He made you melt. Was it all a lie?

Wakasa cupped your face, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. “I wish I could run away with ‘ya, doll, but we gotta be realistic,” he said, voice filled with longing. “There can’t be a happy ending for us. You know that, don’t ‘ya?”

He was right about that much. There couldn’t be a happy ending for the two of you.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and let your bare feet make contact with the cool floor. The shiver you felt could have been from the sudden chill that hit your body as the sheets fell from your shoulders or the emptiness that enveloped you. You cast your gaze to the floor, feeling the heaviness in your chest again.

Just fun, you had to remind yourself. No feelings.

You slid your slippers onto your cold feet. The morning routine which once brought you a sense of comfort now felt mechanical and devoid of meaning. Going through the motions of getting out of bed, you allowed your mind to wander – and wander it did… wander right back to him.

You found yourself missing him. You couldn’t help but replay the moments of intimacy in your mind. The feeling of his lips brushing against yours, the way he let your fingers trace patterns over his tatted skin, the way he held you through the night. He was so warm – it had all felt so real and perfect. But now, with the morning light casting a harsh reality upon your heavy heart, you couldn’t help the sense of emptiness you felt at the prospect of going back to the way things had been before yesterday.

Was that really all it was to him? You asked yourself. Were you a placeholder? A quick cum-and-go situation?

Instead of dwelling too hard on it, you made your way to the kitchen. You felt around on the countertop for the coffee machine. Popping one of the instant coffee capsules into the top of the machine, you watched it whir to life. The familiar aroma of fresh coffee brought little solace. You stood in front of the coffee machine half asleep, heart aching with longing you knew you shouldn’t have felt. The analog clock on the stove read 12:41 PM.

Weary eyes scanning the room, you let yourself wake up little by little. Your gaze settled on the pile of blankets on the couch, which… you didn’t remember putting out there. It looked to be one big blanket draped over a pile.

Figuring you might as well clean it up while you were still looking at it, you pushed yourself away from the counter, walking – or perhaps limping – to the couch. You had been expecting a mess beneath the blanket. What you hadn’t been expecting when you peeled back the first blanket, however, was a head of golden hair to peek out at you.

You froze with surprise at the sight that greeted you. There, on your couch, was the White Leopard himself, the man of the evening. You hadn’t expected him to stay, so you weren’t quite sure how to process the situation. Still, your heart warmed at the sight of him, knowing he’d cared enough to stay with you – and even more to let you have the entire bed while he slept on the couch. The gesture was… well, surprisingly kind.

You couldn’t deny that you had been preparing to be left in the dust. That’s all you had ever known. Given the passionate haze of a night that lingered in your memory, however, you had found yourself wishing it would last a little longer. Seeing him asleep on your couch, you felt a mix of surprise, curiosity, and uncertainty.

Continuing to watch the man sleep, you allowed your eyes to trace the curves and contours of his feminine face. His long, golden hair peeking out from beneath a layer of deep, purple dye. The smaller strands framed his delicate features. His lips were parted just slightly, blonde lashes casting soft shadows over his cheeks.

You were stuck by how beautiful he was in such a vulnerable state. Was this really the same criminal you had bedded last night? The alluring, passionate man who exuded such an intense air of confidence…?

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity about Wakasa as you stared down at his serene, sleeping form. Who was he beneath the surface? Who was he outside of his relationship with you, outside of his ties to the criminal world? What were his dreams, his fears, his hopes? What was his story?

It was then that you realized how little you really knew about your forbidden lover. You approached the couch slowly, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Being careful not to wake him, you knelt beside him. The man stirred in his sleep, scrunching his nose, but he didn’t wake up. The movement made you smile softly, feeling a sense of warmth and contentment you hadn’t expected.

He was breathtaking, a symphony of beauty – the way his brows arched just so, the way his lazy, downturned eyes were just barely shut. You found yourself lost in the details, the intricacies of his face.

As you continued to watch him sleep, you felt something shift inside of you. You wanted to know more about the man in front of you. You wanted to see his ups and downs, hear more about his past with Shinichiro and Takeomi. You wanted to know about all of his dreams and aspirations, what made him tick and what made him laugh. You wanted to unravel the alluring mystery that was Imaushi Wakasa.

Your heart swelled with a newfound tenderness. You gazed softly at Wakasa, who was lost in a peaceful slumber. This was so much more than just sex to you. You wished – above anything else – that circumstances could have been different.

You picked a stray away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. Wakasa stirred, lashes fluttering as he began to wake up. You quickly pulled your hand away, heart skipping a beat.

Wakasa blinked sleepily, droopy eyes searching the room until they focused on you. A soft, lazy grin made its way onto his lips as his gaze lingered on your face. “Mornin’,” he said hoarsely.

Feeling your face warm a little bit at the sound of his morning voice, you returned the gesture. “Good morning,” You replied softly, unable to tear your eyes away from him even though you knew it would be dangerous to keep looking at him. “Well, good afternoon.”

He rolled over on the couch, tugging the blanket down so he could stretch his arms out above his head with a loud yawn. His muscles tensed, toned arms flexing above him. Your eyes wandered from his tattoos down to his chest.

Gazing at you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity, he licked his lips. “What time’s’it?” He asked, running a a hand through his hair. It looked so silky, even now after the two of you had spent the entire night rolling around.

“12:42,” You answered him, avoiding his tired gaze. “What are you doing out here?”

Wakasa shrugged. “Thought it would be best for the both of us if I slept on the couch. Figured I’d give you some space,” he explained. You understood the implications of his words, and you knew he had made the right choice. Lord knew that waking up next to him would make you fall in love. “Were you watchin’ me?”

Embarrassed, you pursed your lips.

His grin only widened, and he reached out to gently cup your cheek, turning your flustered face towards him. “You’re sweet,” he said, thumb caressing your hot skin. “You sleep well?”

You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, feeling the warmth spread from your face to the rest of your body. You knew it was foolish of you to continue indulging in his attention like this when you were walking a fine line already, but when you looked into his eyes and saw him look back at you with desire, you found yourself unable to resist him.

“We didn’t sleep until, like…” You trailed off, racking your memory while memories from last night flicked through your mind like you were rewinding a VHS tape. “Five. In the morning.”

Wakasa chuckled, sending sparks up and down your body. The two of you glanced down at his stomach when it grumbled. He laughed, “Dunno why ‘m still hungry. I ate real good last night.”

You bit your lip, letting your face burn at his words. You glanced to the kitchen, and then back at him. “You like eggs and toast?” You asked. “I haven’t gotten the chance to go grocery shopping or do much cleaning around here, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting–”

Wakasa pulled you in, locking your lips together to shut you up. The two of you parted slowly, savoring the moment, before Wakasa said, “Eggs and toast sound great.”

You licked your lips with a smile, putting some distance between the two of you for the sake of your mental health. He was dangerous, him and his lips. Wordlessly, you made your way over to the kitchen.

“How do you take your coffee?” You called, grabbing the cup of coffee that had just finished brewing and then popping another capsule into the machine.

Wakasa answered, “Two sugars, baby.”

You followed his command, popping the sugar canister open and scooping one big spoonful into the mug you had originally brewed for yourself. You let it dissolve a bit before stirring the cup in a clockwise motion.

“Here you go,” You said, setting the mug on the table. There was a clean pan on the stove already. You turned on the flame, and then reached into the cupboard above you in search of a bowl. Fetching three eggs from the fridge, you set your station for the meal you were about to make.

As you cracked the eggs into the bowl, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, and a familiar warmth pressed up against your back. Biting back a gasp, you leaned into his touch. There was something else pressing into your back too, but you were trying your best not to think too hard about it.

Something was an early bird, even if Wakasa wasn’t.

“I had a great time last night, doll,” He whispered against the back of your neck, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “You always this pretty in the mornin’?”

Fighting a smile, you tried to focus on the task at hand. You added a pinch of salt to the eggs, but your attention was stolen away by the feeling of his slender fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your tee. He gripped your stomach pudge, leaning down to plant soft kisses along the valley of your neck.

Casual, you had to remind yourself. Keep it casual.

“What happened to keepin’ it casual?” You replied, though your voice was dripping with amusement. You took the fork into your hand, sticking it into the yellow goop and attempting to whisk it. But, alas, Waka’s proximity was making it a little difficult to keep on track.

His hands roamed over your waist – warm, secure, safe. When he peppered more kisses along your jawline, you squirmed a bit, grinning hard enough to feel it in your cheeks. You dumped the egg mixture into the now heated pan, listening to the way it sizzled.

“You ain’t exactly makin’ it easy, c’mon,” he teased, nuzzling his face into your neck, and you couldn’t help but blush at his words. “I won’t tell your man.”

You turned to face Waka, bracing your arms on the kitchen counter. He was grinning at you with that affectionate twinkle in his eyes, and you found it suddenly difficult to keep your feelings to yourself. As if he had read your mind, he leaned in, and you melted into his touch.

Your lips met in the middle, dancing against each other lazily. He brought his hands down over your thighs as you tangled a hand in his hair to deepen the kiss. They slid up to your hips, and then gripped the meat of your ass. With a hungry groan, Wakasa lifted you onto the counter.

“You don’t get tired, do you?” You panted through a mouthful of his tongue.

Wakasa chuckled – the sound was low and sultry. “Of you?” he said. “Neva’.”

Then his lips were back on yours, hot and soft. His hands found their way back to your clothes, sliding up your bare thighs and ghosting over the hem of your panties. Suddenly, you had forgotten all about the eggs on the stove.

That is, until you smelled something burning. You pulled away from him, shoving him back while you rushed to the stove. “Shit!” You exclaimed.

You turned the heat down. Using the spatula you had laid out earlier, you scraped the burnt egg bits off the side of the pan, trying your best to salvage the meal. Eggs were expensive these days.

Wakasa laughed a little as he stepped back. You couldn’t help but laugh with him as you grabbed a dish towel to wave away the smoke. Even though you were a little disappointed that your makeout session had been interrupted, you felt yourself smile as you surveyed the damage.

“Well done is good too,” He hummed.

It took a remarkable amount of strength to keep your feelings out of the mix. You waved him off with a smile, gesturing toward the table. “Make yourself useful and go set the table.”

★

Takeomi sat back in his chair, swishing the brown liquid in his glass around with an air of mild interest about him. His hair was down today, black tufts speckled with grey like pepper, falling over his scarred face. The dining table was remarkably quiet. Though, admittedly, him bringing liquor for the two of you to share was nice. Usually he downed the whole thing himself – not like he hadn’t come home shitfaced already.

“You had fun today with Shin and Benkei?” You asked him, trying to strike up a conversation. You decided you wouldn’t acknowledge the fact that he had drunk himself stupid last night already as he took another hefty swig. You were in no place to talk. Not after the night you had spent with his coworker.

“You’ll be back soon, right?” You asked.

Wakasa stretched his arms out, straddling the seat of his motorbike. He slipped the key into the ignition. “Course I will.”

Coming up behind him, you threw your arms around his waist, pressing your head to his chest. He looked so cute like this, wearing a hoodie that was a few sizes too big for his small frame. It was your boyfriend’s hoodie, of course, but that wasn’t important.

“Stay with me,” you whispered, voice still a little husky from your… post-breakfast activities.

“You know I would if I could, doll,” the man replied. He reached behind himself to tie his loose, golden locks into a ponytail. He picked out his two signature strands to hang around his face. Turning to face you, he pressed your foreheads together.

You felt your heart fluter in your chest. You didn’t want him to leave.

“Wanna kiss you,” he chuckled, shaking his head, although he didn’t pull away from you. “But that’ll only make it harder to leave.”

“We shouldn’t,” you agreed, peering up into his soft, lazy eyes and pleading with him to stay with you. “Someone might see us.”

The distance between the two of you – or, rather, the lack thereof – remained the same, neither of you daring to break the trance.

He leaned down a bit more. His lips ghosted over hers, warm breath fanning over her hot skin. “Yeah. Wouldn’t want that happenin’.”

Before you could object, he pressed his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss. You melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and losing yourself in the feeling. The way your lips slotted together like they were made to fit each other had you reeling for more. When the two of you finally parted, you could see the desire in his eyes, and you knew that even if he couldn’t say it, he felt the same.

“Get home safe,” You told him.

“Will do, princess,” he promised before turning the key. His bike revved to life.

Takeomi’s tired eyes observed you as you uncapped the bottle of whiskey and poured yourself another glass. “It was alright,” he deadpanned, then he paused before adding, “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I should’ve taken you home myself.”

You froze, only for a moment, before returning your gaze to him. It took a great amount of effort to cool the burn that threatened to crawl its way over your face at the prospect of him knowing what happened between you and Wakasa last night. “You’re fine,” you shook your head. “I wound up going to bed early anyway.”

“Fuck,” Wakasa breathed. “Y’look good with my dick in your mouth, baby.”

He doesn’t know, you had to remind yourself. There was no way he could have known.

“Waka get you home safe?” He asked.

You rubbed the sweat off your palms onto your pants, nervously avoiding eye contact. “Yeah. We took the highway back.”

“I would’ve sent you home with, like, literally anyone else if the guys weren’t so drunk. I can’t stand him,” Your boyfriend sighed, leaning back in his chair like he knew what you had done. “Little shit thinks hes so much better than everyone else. Him and that… Brut.”

The way his hair fell into his face as he snuggled his head into the pillow was almost hypnotic. “I could treat you better. So much better, ‘know I could. I’ve never felt that for anyone before.”

“He ain’t put his hands on ‘ya, did he?” Takeomi hummed, eyes darkening suddenly with the weight of his words.

“I won’t tell your man.”

With a weak smile and a humorless chuckle, you answered, “No, baby. He knows I have a boyfriend.”

Briefly, you wondered if he could sense his presence on you. You wondered if, even though you had bathed yourself in perfume before coming here, Takeomi could smell his scent on your body, the faint essence of his expensive cologne lingering on your clothes. While the two of you had been careful not to leave marks on one another, you felt self conscious in front of him, like Wakasa’s lips had left blistering scars and love bites all over your skin.

Takeomi only nodded at you. He reached for the bottle of whiskey and topped off his glass, taking another sip. Then, just as it had been before, the table was quiet for a few minutes.

He doesn’t know, you had to remind yourself. As your phone buzzed against your thigh, you reminded yourself that your boyfriend didn’t know who it was, even if you had only assumed it was him. A thought crossed your mind – perhaps it would serve you well to change your passcode one of these days.

Flipping the phone screen-side-up in your lap, you swiped on the notification. The warmth returned to your cheeks with remarkable speed.

Waka

| Image Attached

| Thinkin of u doll

You clicked on the photo. When it blew up on your screen, you fiddled with the brightness settings. It was a picture of two eggs done sunny side up. The yolks resembled a set of tits. You could see Wakasa’s hand in the corner of the photo, holding the plate up to the camera, tatted skin reflecting light from somewhere behind the screen.

You

| go fk yourself

| mine dont sit that pretty lol

Waka

| idk wtf ur talkin abt, yours sit real pretty.

| but i mean s been a min so

| might need a refresher ;)

Fighting the urge to laugh at his shenanigans, you typed up your brief response quickly before turning the phone off.

You

| no comment lol

You muted all notifications for Wakasa for the time being, setting your phone on the table as you pushed yourself up and away from the chair.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower. I hope that’s okay,” You said.

Too wasted to comment verbally on your request, he waved you off. You dusted the hem of your shirt, stumbling drunkenly for a moment before leaving the table without so much as another word.

★

The steamy shower provided a brief – yet much needed – moment of solace for your conflicted spirit. The hot water felt like acid against your even hotter skin, melting your troubles away and easing the pain away from your shoulders. Yet, still, it did little to ease the guilt and confusion that seemed to overwhelm you.

You had cheated on your boyfriend. You were past that part. What shocked you now was the fact that you were catching feelings for the guy you did it with. The emotions were almost too strong to bear. You felt like a monster – it all felt so wrong.

But, shit, not to be cliche… but if that were the case then you weren’t too sure you wanted to be right.

The man thrilled you, filled you with desires you had never felt before. In a mere month alone, he had managed to completely sweep you off of your feet. He had taken what was once a plain, boring reality and painted his name all over it.

Having already had washed your hair earlier today, you focused on working up a lather over your skin with Takeomi’s body wash – anything to help cleanse the filth from your soul.

Your mind was racing with thoughts and emotions, wondering how you had let things get to this point.

If I could go back in time, would I do it again? You furrowed your brows. Letting your hands glide over your body on their own, you mindlessly scrubbed away at your skin. You knew you had betrayed your boyfriend by that point, having cheated on him with – of all of his coworkers – the man he appeared to despise the most. He would undoubtedly try to kill one of you if word got out that you were seeing each other behind his back. All things considered, Takeomi was a decent man, least that’s what you told yourself. You’d be doing a disservice to yourself to leave him and all of this stability behind for the pursuit of temporary happiness.

And then what? Would Wakasa eventually grow tired of you and leave you for another? You didn’t want to be blacklisted from Tokyo’s criminal world, as crazy as that may have sounded.

Then again, it would be even more of a disservice to yourself to give what you had with Wakasa up so soon. His lips dripped with venom; His half-lidded eyes contained promises of a future you weren’t sure was even possible.

In those eyes, you saw a reflection of your own desires – the future you desperately wanted the two of you to share. You saw a man who was both powerful and vulnerable; a man who had earned the title of one of Japan’s most feared men, a man who had swept the hair out of your face and wiped your tears away. In those eyes, you could see the weight of the responsibility he carried, knowing you only added to that burden. He led like it was second nature to him, having been well-known around these parts for the many generous sacrifices he’d made to those in his circle – your boyfriend being one of them.

You wondered if he had ever truly allowed himself to be happy.

But, shit, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the way his whole face lit up when you entered the room. It couldn’t have been a lie, not all of it, at least.

Most of all, behind those eyes, you saw a kindred spirit, someone who seemed to understand you in a way that no one else ever has before. You could see this unspoken connection that defied both logic and reason – a shared emotion that was both forbidden and undeniable.

As you stood there in the shower, you realized that you would have to face the consequences of your actions at some point. You couldn’t run from it forever – what you had done was undeniably wrong in a moral sense; no amount of reassurance from Waka or yourself would change that fact. Some day, Takeomi would find out about the two of you, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for things to come to an end so soon.

You sighed. “I don’t want him goin’ after us.”

Wakasa’s hand found its way over to yours. “I’ll keep ‘ya safe. Promise,” he said.

You didn’t care if it was an illusion. He looked so ethereal beneath you, hair splayed out on the pillow around his face like a halo. He was so vulnerable, so perfect. Wakasa’s eyes were filled with a mixture of longing and determination. “And if ‘ya change ‘yer mind about being with him,” he said huskily, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek one more time. “I’m a call away.”

You felt your resolve crumble as you crashed your lips down on his, mouths melding together for what must have been the hundredth time that night. You moaned softly, moving your hands from his waist to the pillow beneath his head as you felt him brace his hands on your hips.

I’m not ready yet, you decided. You didn’t care if it was wrong. You didn’t care if there would be dire and extreme consequences if and when word about the two of you got out. You wanted to stay in this illusion with him a little while longer.

Warm, salty tears mixed with the water running down your face and over your quivering lips as you tried to wrap your head around it all. The thought of being hurt by Takeomi again made you feel sick to your stomach – You had seen the damage he was capable of doing to his opponents, you didn’t even want to know what he would do to you if he found out about Wakasa. Still, you had betrayed him. You knew repercussions would come eventually.

As you stepped out of the shower and dried yourself off with a towel, you swallowed your guilt. You had a clean set of clothes folded neatly atop the sink. The shirt slipped loosely over your head, though the pants took some effort to squeeze into. You gazed at your tired face in the mirror. You looked about as lost as you felt. Deciding eventually that worrying about it now wouldn’t change the eventual outcome, you sighed, reaching for the door.

“Might as well ride the train until it crashes,” you murmurred beneath your breath.

Who knows? That confrontation might be years away.

Looping around the hallway, you approached the staircase. There was that faint, distinct aroma of booze that lingered in the air – that and the familiar stench of Takeomi’s cigars. A smile adorned your lips at the thought of being able to share a smoke with him. You rarely got the chance to smoke a Cuban these days. Slowly, you made your descent down the stairs.

You could hear the TV playing something – Takeomi had moved to the living room. You guessed he was done drinking for the night. Lord knew you were too drunk to continue on yourself.

Anticipation bubbled within you as you approached the living room. Takeomi was seated on the loveseat with a cigar pinched between his thumb and index finger. His hair was a bit greasy from his day out, just faintly illuminated by the yellow light cast onto his face from the lamp in the corner.

As your gaze met his, your anticipation was met with an unexpected sight. Takeomi’s brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. The tension that radiated from his rigid posture seemed to cast a shadow over the room. There was a storm brewing behind his eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, then two, your smile dropping from your face. Concern etched itself across your expression. The soft pitter-patter of your bare, damp feet on the hardwood floor seemed to echo louder in the charged atmosphere.

“Is something the matter?” You asked, doing your best to keep your tone gentle despite the hint of unease that lingered behind your words.

“Yeah,” he answered. The end of his cigar crackled as he took a long, hefty hit.

Confusion washed over you. A flicker of worry cast a cloud over your sunny disposition. You approached him slowly, steps tentative. “What’s up?” You asked him.

Takeomi’s gaze met yours, anger flashing behind his dark eyes. His voice, once a drunken, slurred murmur, now carried the weight of his emotion. Wordlessly, reached into his lap and produced your phone, holding it out toward you.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the screen, widening when they did. The warmth in the room dissipated, replaced by a chilling silence that hung heavily in the air.

“You’re fucking my coworker?” He spoke, voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and anger.

And in a moment’s width, your world had flipped upside down.

a/n: dun dun dunnnnnn!! -- ok im sorry for the cliffhanger, shit is about to get juicy, trust. I just wanna take a moment to thank each and every one of you reading rn for all of ur unwavering support. the amount of love this fic has gotten during the past month ive been on hiatus has kept me going thru difficult times, I dont think yall will ever understand the impact you've had on me. ur comments make my day!! (please leave more I love u all mwah mwah mwah). as for next chapter, strap in. remember the angst and craziness I warned yall abt last month? yeah. get ready. lmk what u think as always and feel free to comment or reblog with any thoughts, suggestions or just to say hello, mawmah loves u all<3

I obviously do not own tokyo revengers or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @tokyorevengersslut69, @mikeys-bike-slut, @midtwenties-angst, @sleepysnk, @enneadec, @noaabean, @galactict3a, @em1e, @drakensdarling, @wakashawty, @satanlovesusall666, @sin-and-punishment, @mztoman, @sanzuicide, @bontensbabygirl, @strawberrychrome, @scaraphobia, @bertholdts--butt, @xiedoll, @missgab, @keiskyutie

wanna join the taglist for wakasa imaushi? | or click here to read more

#party monster ⋆ ★#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#wakasa #wakasa imaushi #wakasa smut #wakasa fluff #wakasa imaushi x reader #sano shinichiro #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #brahman #wakasa is a FREAK #benkei #arashi keizou #takeomi akashi

253 notes · View notes

chuuyrr · 2 years

Note

Request Idea for Scarlet Witch reader! If your interested that is :3

So, idk if your have seen the JJK 0 movie but there is a scene at the end where Gojo confronts Getou and says something and I was wondering if we could get that with Scarlet reader and her partner? Except maybe Gojo and the others witness her say something to him but dont know what she says 👀 it could be a love confession or you could leave it blank with right before Scarlet witch reader finishes him, he gives her a smile?

Maybe even have Scarlet reader walk past Gojo and the others looking almost dead(?) Like her eyes are glazed, blood on her face, head down, ect? Idk how else to describe it 😭 but I have so many ideas and this is just one iv been thinking of 🧍‍♀️

scarlet witch! fushiguro! reader confronts ex-partner similarly to adoptive dad! gojo with geto

jujutsu kaisen x reader

masterlist of the series | first part

╰➤ CW(s): spoilers for jujutsu kaisen 0, major references to multiverse of madness, and scarlet witch in general, angst

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! jujutsu kaisen x teen! reader

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which you, the adoptive child of gojo satoru, the scarlet witch, and the half-younger sibling of fushiguro megumi, repeats his history of having to lose the one who became everything he never wanted to lose.

╰➤ SONG SUGGESTION(s): my tears ricochet and enchanted by taylor swift

there you stood among the debris and broken foundations of buildings and trees left over from the earlier collisions of chaos magic, and cursed energy, gravity in particular.

gojo satoru and the other jujutsu sorcerers who were battered and bruised from earlier's fight watched as you planted your feet on the ground while in mid-air, a small yet gentle turbulent red psionics flowing outwards as you did.

you hung your head low, allowing your [color] locks of hair to fall and cover your face as you walked towards him, whose body had been gravely injured by your final chaos magic attack on him earlier. your steps were heavy and slow as you clutched your bleeding and bruised arm, which was exposed due to tatters on your customized scarlet jujutsu tech uniform.

you were too exhausted to heal yourself with your own abilities. nonetheless, you continued on because you needed to get to him no matter what. even if it broke your heart to see your ex-partner—your partner in such a terrible state as he leaned weakly against a rubble. his black hair was no longer tied in a half-up, half-do; a horrible bleeding dash had been inflicted on him, ripping up his clothes.

as blood dripped down the side of shinya's face, he lifted it and turned to face you, his gray eyes fixed on yours as you stood and loomed over him, where he noticed your expression. it was no surprise that you hung your head low. tears were glistening in your [color] eyes, and that hurt shinya a lot.

shinya wasn't heartless even if he had declared you and the rest of your jujutsu sorcerers family his enemies. he simply buried the feeling away because he had already made his decision. he despised seeing you cry even back then.

"[nickname]," shinya spoke up, his lips curving into a broken smile, "what'cha tearing up for?"

you found yourself clenching your fists, trembling fists to be precise. your knees gradually buckled to the floor, unconcerned that the rough ground would graze and scratch them. shinya furrowed his brows as he slowly extended his hand towards yours, which were flat on your thighs, and that's when he felt your tears fall on the back of his hand.

"you did it, didn't you? you saved the jujutsu sorcerers you considered family from me, the villain, [name]," shinya chuckled softly, shaking his head, "of course you would. you're the scarlet witch. as much as i hate to fucking admit it, you're stronger than me."

"we were supposed to be the strongest together, shin.." you muttered as you clenched your fists even tighter. you were choking on your words, but you held it together and lifted your head to finally face him, locking gazes with his gray eyes—the same ones you loved so much when the two of you first met each other.

but you couldn't find it in yourself right now to adore them. not with shinya's current condition, not when he was dying, and absolutely not when he was staring at you with those eyes.

"go on, [nickname], curse me all you want. it all my fault after all, pretty," shinya intertwined his bloodied and bruised hand in yours.

"how the fuck am i supposed to curse my one and only partner?" your words weren't as venomous as they should have been. in fact, your tone was sullen rather than angry.

shinya's brows drew together, almost sympathetically, but he lets you continue speaking as you shake your head and take a sharp breath of air, "i can't curse you, shinya."

"why?" shinya asked unintelligibly, puzzled and surprised by your choice of words.

shinya's hands were getting colder, and you could feel it as they rose and cupped your warm cheeks. the wind picks up, emphasizing the coldness of his body, and it's only then that you realize your cheeks are wet from tears streaming down your face. your eyes glow a faint red color as they reflect the burning sunset in the background.

"because i love you, hatsuki shinya, and i always have, even back when you left and chose this path. you're my partner—my everything, and it fucking hurts so much," you said with shinya's thumb brushing away your tears.

"damn it, [nickname], curse me a little, will you?" shinya's voice strained as his lips trembled, "stop blaming yourself."

you shook your head, closing your eyes as you held one of his hands, making it cup your face, "i can't."

when the curse-user suddenly wrapped his arms around you, gojo and the jujutsu sorcerers tensed. however, gojo stopped them with a raised hand, realizing that shinya was simply hugging you, before your older brother megumi, maki, nobara, and yuuji could run towards to attack with the intention to protect you from him.

your body ran warm in his embrace, which was becoming colder by the second, and that's when he pressed your body closer to his.

"maybe if i could have been your eyes and seen the world like you did, breathed everything you breathed and felt everything you felt, then maybe.. just maybe, [name].. i could have loved you the way i have always wanted to.."

you buried your face into the crook of his neck, unconcerned about his blood staining your face and everything, or that you were clinging to him so tightly at this point.

"you won't die, shinya," your hushed words rolled off your tongue like a plea.

"not even you can make that promise, [name]," shinya shook his head, rubbing your back to comfort you.

shinya's nose bleeds red, and the next thing you know, he's coughing blood, prompting him to pull your body away from his. your eyes widened as you stared at your palms. your magic hit him too hard earlier and nearly made him decay. shinya was right about your strength. your partner was well aware of how powerful you exactly were.

"do what you have to do," shinya straightened his back, attempting to sit upright, but struggled to do so, "finish what you started."

"shinya.." you spoke up to protest.

"no, [name], i can't stay. not after what I've done to you and everyone, and i want this more than ever," shinya said firmly.

with that, shinya's face crinkled into a smile, a genuine smile, "to have my partner do this."

you nodded your head. it was a difficult pill to swallow, but you had to accept it as it was. no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you loved shinya as much as he loved you, this was inevitable. he was doomed to die, and you had no choice but to live. shinya has already chosen the path of darkness, while you have chosen the path of light.

to simply put it, you and shinya were destined to meet but not to be with each other, and it was the curse of the strongest ones.

with a heavy heart, you gently twisted your dominant hand, allowing red psionics to seep from your fingertips. it was a little faint due to your exhaustion and wounds, but it should suffice. you'll make it work. for shinya.

"you know, the sunset reminds me so much of you," shinya's eyes were now half-lidded and drooping from exhaustion.

"and just like the sunset, i'll see you again. maybe not in this life, or in the afterlife, but perhaps in another life or universe, and i'm confident that i will love every version of you, over and over, fushiguro [name], because i love you in every universe," shinya said, his voice barely audible, but you heard it nonetheless.

as shinya smiled at you and spoke such words, you mouthed them back, and before the jujutsu sorcerers knew it, you maneuvered your hand and the other, using your red psionics once more to end the curse user.

you wanted to close your eyes, not wanting to see what will become of shinya, but you read his thoughts loud and clear, and he called out to you, telling you not to take your gaze away from him.

"you could never hurt me," said shinya through his thoughts to comfort you even in his final moments, "i just feel you, [nickname]."

you wanted to fight back against his words, but you did what he wanted. you stood there watching and letting your chaos magic struck him. you wanted to scream and cry your soul out. you wanted him to stop staring at you with those eyes and that goddamned smile.

life flashed before shinya's eyes like a movie, and you saw everything as you subconsciously read his thoughts, from him first meeting you to the two of you fighting like a damned old married couple, to you and shinya accomplishing missions together as special grade sorcerers, to you and him coming home together after a long day, all the way to him staring at the sunset wishing it was you instead.

as your chaos magic accelerated the aging of his body to the point where there was no trace of him left, but only a hair tie—the hair tie he stole from you and had been using since he lost his. you picked it up from the ground and held onto it tightly, remembering him doing so.

was it really a curse of the strongest ones? was it fate for the scarlet witch to lose the people she cares about? it could be either, but as you turn your heel and walk away, you can't help but think about your adoptive father's words;

you straightened your back, took a deep breath, slipped the hair tie on your wrist, just below your black wristers, and raised your gaze to the horizon. hatsuki shinya was finally at rest and most likely reunited with his father-figure, mahiru, in the afterlife, but a part of you had died along with him.

shinya was more than just your partner or someone who made you feel less lonely; he was your other half, your soulmate. he was everything, and you loved him with your whole heart and soul.

love is the most twisted curse of them all.

it had to be that. you were certain of it.

"[name]-chan," yuuji attempted to speak to you as he walked up to meet you mid-way, but you remained silent and continued walking.

"[name]," megumi pried this time, attempting to converse with his half-brother, but you, like towards yuuji, ignored him.

"gojo-sensei, [name]-chan..." nobara frowned as she approached your adoptive dad in concern.

"let her be, kugisaki," gojo response was quiet and sullen as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

gojo bit the inside of his cheek as he and everyone else noticed the look in your eyes. it was completely empty, a void of nothingness. they were even puffy red from your tears earlier. you couldn't even describe how you felt, other than grieving and feeling; it just hurt so much. white noise was even filling your ears.

you walked past everyone, your head low as you wiped the blood—shinya's blood to be exact—that had stained your face, the very burden on your shoulders.

gojo satoru knew exactly how you felt—the unexplainable pain and grief—and he couldn't help but sympathize with you as he stared down at your figure, which was getting smaller and smaller as you walked further past them. tour uncle suguru geto was once a hatsuki shinya in gojo's life.

although he and the others didn't hear what you two said, gojo knows it was similar to the last time he spoke to his own partner.

and because gojo knows how it feels to have loved and lost, he feels guilty that his daughter, his most beloved child, is going through the same hell he did. it was a scene gojo was all too familiar with, especially with the bitter ending wherein love truly is the most twisted curse of them all.

[ author's notes ! ngl, i lowkey hate the ending i wrote because some tears are in my eyes yk LMAO and the fact that i had just a heartwrenching skk ao3 fic does not help at all, but i did enjoy writing this—somewhat—because it felt right to have reader's partner end up the same way as geto because this is reader taking after gojo satoru, but also because i got to reference mcu! wanda maximoff's grief too, which i hope i was able to encapture in this writing, so thank you for requesting this foxy. hoped you like it ! ]

[ p.s. ! the song suggestions are highly recommended btw—i was listening to them while i was writing this. it makes the angst hit harder and more differently. 10/10 experience 😌🤝]

294 notes · View notes