#Took me like a day to make this BUT here we are!
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rafesangelita · 1 day ago
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⊹₊⟡⋆♡ cowboy!rafe always snuck into farmer's!daughter!reader's room to give her a goodnight kiss.. but what happens when their innocent little kiss turns into something much more?
warnings: sweet fluff, flirty banter, brief flashback, daddy kink lol, sneaking around, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rafe covering your mouth, crying, overstimulation
a/n: i’ll be opening req’s soon! lately here i’ve been wanting to get out some of my own prompts since over half of my works are all req’s.. but i’m excited to see what you girlies send me! find more of farmer’s!daughter!reader and cowboy!rafe here <3
wc: 1.2k
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“open up, doll face.” you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as rafe lightly tapped on your window. he made you so giddy, you scrambled up from the warmth of your sheets, unlocking the hatch before helping him climb in. “i thought you weren’t coming..” you whispered, pouting up at him as he snickered. “y’gotta have faith in me, sweetheart. when have i missed a goodnight’s kiss?” rafe cupped your face, both of you smiling against each other’s lips before melting into one another.
you always felt so warm and fuzzy inside when you and rafe got to share your secret little moments together, the simplicity of just being together without having to worry about someone catching you two made both of your hearts swell. rafe knew how to sweep you off your feet with a single kiss, a string of giggles tumbling from your mouth as he not-so-quietly threw you onto your bed. “rafe!” you scolded him, your heart beating in your ears as he slotted himself between your thighs.
“my daddy is next door! what if he hears..” you slapped his chest playfully, the man above you arching a brow. “daddy? i thought i was your daddy.” your cheeks heated in embarrassment when you recalled the quickie you two had in the barn not too long ago. rafe had you bent over a hay bale, his thrusts making you unable to speak until he asked you the golden question.
“hmmph! fuckin’ say it. tell me what i wanna hear, who’s your fuckin’ daddy?”
taking your bottom lip between your teeth, rafe smiled as he shook his head down at you. “you just thought about it, didn’t you?” snapping you out of your flashback daze, you laughed when he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the column of your throat. he smelled like soap, the slight stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin. as if your hips had a mind of their own, you grinded your clothed cunt against rafe’s thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the lack of friction.
“hey,” rafe cupped your tits through your flimsy night top, “you thought i wasn’t coming tonight, right? that’s what you said.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion before a gasp slipped from your mouth. “yes..” rafe trailed a hand underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. “so why don’t you have any panties on?” you froze, eyes flickering down to where rafe ran a finger between your folds. keening, you couldn’t help the moan from leaving your lips.
rafe stared at you for a moment, his eyes growing dark as he clamped a hand over your mouth. “i’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. ‘think you can stay quiet for me?” of course you couldn’t.. and rafe knew that. you stared at him with wide eyes, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took himself out of his pants. “i mean it. we don’t want your old man chasing me down with that shotgun of his, now do we?” you shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance.
you shrieked, his hips rolling into yours as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt. if it wasn’t for rafe’s hand muffling your scream you’re sure both of you would be in deep trouble right now. rafe rested his head on your pillow, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he started thrusting. feeling his weight on top of you like this had easily become your favorite thing, the closeness of it all made your heart sing. “fuck, i could never get used to this.. ‘feels like the first time all the time.” he grunted.
you held onto his wrist, your thighs hugging his waist as he kissed the side of your face. “taking me so fuckin’ good, you were made for me, yeah?” you whined, your eyes watering as rafe continuously hit that soft spot inside of you. your headboard started hitting the wall, a smirk gracing your boyfriend’s features. “rafe!” you whispered, tearing his hand away from your face. “s-slow down!” you attempted to push him away while simultaneously trying to keep your noises to yourself.
rafe picked up his pace, wrapping a hand around your throat. “can’t..” you shook your head, your chest rising and falling as the knocking of your headboard only got louder. rafe cursed under his breath when you cried out, working fast to get you turned over so he could push your head into the pillows. “what did i tell you?!” he scolded, landing a smack to your ass. you didn’t have any time to react to the stinging sensation on your backside, your orgasm washing over you once rafe started stroking your clit.
you fisted the sheets underneath you, biting down on your lip as white hot pleasure blinded your vision. rafe made no attempt to soothe you, instead he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling you up as he nipped at the sensitive skin in the curve of your neck. “sweetheart?” you gasped when your father’s voice sounded from the other side of your bedroom door. you cleared your throat, frozen in place as your door knob rattled. “answer him.” rafe spoke in your ear, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.
“what?!” you stammered, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as rafe continued to rub hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “answer him or i’ll make you scream.” you wanted to shoot a sassy ‘you already did’, but you didn’t dare chance it. your chin wobbled, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. “y-yes?!” you called out, glaring at rafe over your shoulder when the sound of his hips slamming into you bounced off of the walls. “you alright in there?” you bit the back of your hand, your head falling weakly.
“is this a girl thing or somethin’, should i call your aunt?” your cheeks heated, a chuckle sounding from the man behind you. “no! i’m o-okay!” rafe pulled your hair again, his lips close to your ear as he whispered the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard. “what would your pops think, huh? catching his perfect little angel getting fucked like this..” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your knees slipping out from under you when rafe pushed you flat on your sheets.
“alright.. goodnight!” you ignored your father’s voice, the only thing your brain allowing you to process was rafe cumming inside of you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. “shittt,” he hissed, “son of a— fuck!” it was his turn to cover his mouth, his muscles constricting as you practically milked him for all he had. you reveled in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up, the thick ropes still connecting you two even after he pulled out.
you sighed, both you and rafe panting in the small space that was your room. “you okay, doll?” rafe kneeled down at your side, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips. blinking at him, you nodded before pulling him next to you. “it’s really late..” you yawned, glancing at the little clock on your bedside table. “i know.” rafe grumbled. there was nothing he hated more than having to leave you like this. wrapping his arms around your waist, rafe waited until you fell asleep slipping out of your window again.
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norrisainz33 · 1 day ago
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the call pt 2 || platonic grid & gr63
summary: y/n finishes out the triple header strong after being called up to race for alpine
pairing: platonic!grid x george russell x rookie!driver!reader
fc & warnings: none and minor hate comments, bad language, and bad grammar from my end
a/n: i've never had this many people request a part 2 before so i hope y'all enjoy!! I'm going to keep her racing in the remainder of the season so keep an eye out for the rest.
part 1
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
alpinef1team has made a post
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alpinef1team: a point in the bag for pierre and another good drive for y/n 💼
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user2: solid result for the team!!! y/n ate in her second race ever
user99: a team of losers tbh
ynuser: yay for points! let’s go pierregasly
pierregasly: we go again in brazil! points for both of us there 😉
ynuser: everyone better make sure to bet on us 🙂‍↔️
yourbff: let’s go best friend(s)!!!!
ynuser: 🫶🏻
georgerussell63: great stuff ynuser
ynuser: thanks georgie
user1: notice how he is always supporting her…. is there something here?
user2: they’ve been friends since their karting days!! if you asked me back when they were in f2 if they were tg i would’ve said yes bc they were kinda sus but now idk
user1: gonna go research the lore on their f2 days
you let out a huff as you threw your padel racket on the ground and wiped the sweat from your brow, “god dammit lance! how are you so good at this!?”
laughing lance shrugged, “maybe you and george are just really bad!”
george shook his head, “no mate that can’t be it!”
you took a long drink of your water as the pair continued to bicker. “did you both see the weather for the weekend?” you asked changing the subject so they’d stop.
“yeah, lots of rain it seems.” lance put his racket into his bag and looked up at you with concern. “have you raced in the rain before?”
you shook your head, “no not really. i mean when i was karting yes but outside of that not really.”
“blimey y/n/n,” george ran a hand through his hair. “you’ve been going over those scenarios with your team right? there’s a chance of some really heavy rain.”
“i have, i have. i’ll be ok!” you assured them both with a smile but your friends looked anything but reassured.
ynuser has posted to their story
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user2: jesus christ you’re so hot
user4: im obsessed with you holy f
georgerussell63: green is a good color on you. tho i think mercedes blue is better
ynuser: you mean alpine blue and pink
georgerussell63: nah i’d like to see you in my colors
ynuser: oh?
georgerussell63: you heard me
francocolapinto: 👀
ynuser: and you’re coming to play with us next time yea?
francocolapinto: si bonita
yourbff: H O T
ynuser: thanks bb
ynuser: also i think george might be flirting in my dms rn?
yourbff: WHAT?!
ynuser: he said he wants to see me in his mercedes kit
yourbff: oh that’s 🤭
landonorris: you look tall here
ynuser: thanks shortie 🩷
landonorris: uncalled for
user5: thanking your parents for doing it tbh
holding in a yawn you turned to walk back to your garage after the brazilian national anthem. the 5am wake up for this ‘super sunday’ as they were calling it was catching up with you despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. you had had the qualifying session of your life, which despite the cool confidence you played it off with in your interviews after, shocked you just as much as it shocked everyone else. you qualified in 4th. yes, you read that right, p4. something about the car came alive in the rain and you prayed it came alive again during the race but the rain was starting to pick up and it seemed like it was only going to get worse. you’d already seen several red flags in quali and would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t terrified that that was about to become you in the race.... especially with the threat of the entire field behind you, including max verstappen, wanting to push forward and push forward fast regardless of the consequences.
“y/n!” a hushed voice caught your attention. george had caught up to you and had a serious look on his face. “please be careful out there,” he pleaded.
“you too george,” you squeezed his arm lightly. “i’ll see you on the podium, yeah?"
"yeah," george winked as you turned to head into the alpine garage.
your engineer, james, handed you your helmet as he went over a few more pieces of data. he was stressing over the litany of different plans the team had put together in the very short window between quali and now. the heavy rain and your heroic lap times caused just about everything your team had prepped to be turned upside down.
“right, right i’ve got it james. plan a seems the most logical if i can keep everyone behind me.” you said as you pulled your helmet onto your head and fastened the strap.
things were about to get interesting.
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f1: the race is stopped under the red flag for a crash….. and y/n y/l/n is our new race leader! after running a surprisingly strong p4 for the first half of the race, she took the lead when those in front pitted for new tyres. y/n is the only woman in history to lead a lap in a grand prix
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user1: not them calling her performance surprising 🥴
user2: I KNOW THATS RIGHT!
user12: only gonna last a second. she can’t even compete with the likes of verstappen
alpinef1team: @ everyone behind, y/n.. can we pretty please keep it this way?
yourbff: real tears are being shed rn this is monumental
user9: god is this amazing
mercedesamgf1: we love to see this historical moment! even if we’re coming to take it back 😉
user11: literally the most amazing thing i’ve seen all day
you ripped another tear off from your helmet wishing it would make it easier to see but to your dismay, you still couldn’t see a damn thing. the rain was coming down in buckets, your inters were worn, you were fighting the car even in the straight lines to keep it on the track and worst of all, you were scared shitless. you had no moment to even be happy about your current position in p1 because you were too busy trying not to send your car into the barrier.
“max is 2 seconds behind you and gaining very quickly. gasly is 1.2 seconds behind max and leclerc is 0.9 behind pierre.” james updated you on the radio which sent you into a fit of rage.
“james for fucks sake i don’t care!!! stop giving me timing updates!! i can’t see the road so i can’t do anything about it!!!” you almost screamed. "i can't even pass half throttle!"
“rain is expected to lighten in about 10 laps,” james reported ignoring your outburst.
“10 LAPS?! how am i supposed to survive 10 laps?!?!?” as you yelled you felt the rear of your car start to slide causing you to need to quickly snap it back into place. “there is so much standing water james - i can’t keep doing this. the front straight is like a swimming pool!”
“yes you can, y/n. lock in and calm down. you only have a couple of laps left in this class of rain.”
“lock in? calm down!? and what if i crash this damn car first?!” turning off your radio you tried to take a few deep breaths while focusing on the road in front of you. you couldn’t panic - that would only make matters worse. you had to stay calm. you knew your car, you knew to deviate off the racing line to avoid the slippery curbs in specific turns, and you knew that you had to make it through whether you wanted to or not. panicking was not going to help anyone but there was little way to explain just how scary it was on track at this current moment.
another snap of significant oversteer left you breathless and near tears. “james im so serious - i need wets and even then i don’t think they’re going to be enough. there's standing water on every part of this track. i can't race like this on these tyres. please talk to fia. please we need a red flag.”
“pitting doesn’t make sense right now, you’ll come out in traffic and your race will be over.”
“i care more about making it out of this race alive than coming out in traffic.”
“understood.”
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“they couldn’t have taken any longer with that red flag could they?” you snapped as you pulled your race suit down to your hips.
“no they really couldn’t have! it was getting ridiculous out there.” pierre grabbed his water bottle, "driving couldn't have been more dangerous."
“alright you two! thats enough!" your team principal interrupted, looking very serious. "we have a real chance of keeping this double podium finish especially because george and lando pitted before this red flag and lost a lot of time," he explained. "y/n, you’re going to have to push, there’s not much chance you’ll be able to keep max behind you but we’ve got to be fast enough to keep george, charles and lando behind pierre.”
right... keep 3 of the fastest drivers on the grid behind you both.. you were going to need a real stroke of luck.
alpinef1team has made a post
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alpinef1team: THEY DID IT!!! Y/N AND PIERRE CROSS THE LINE AS P2 AND P3! HISTORY MADE
"thats p2 y/n - great job! the entire team and i are so fcking proud of you."
"AHHH YES YESSSSSSS!!!!" you screamed into the radio, banging your hands against the steering wheel, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT JAMES!!" the emotions hit you like a brick wall, and tears quickly began falling. "thank you all so much. thank you for this opportunity. thank you to the mechanics, to everyone back at the factory, to every single one of you. thank you for believing in me when no one else did."
"you're welcome, y/n. you deserve it. you deserve it all kid."
pierre rolled up next to you to drive the remainder of the cool down lap by your side. he waved excitedly and you waved back without hesitation - you both had achieved what felt like the impossible.
you were the first woman to ever stand up on the podium and you were the first woman to score points in formula 1, but you knew you certainly weren't going to be the last. if you would do anything with your remaining races, it would be to show the world just how much women belong in this sport.
you pulled into parc ferme and shut off your car as quickly as you could. you fumbled with your straps and when you finally got them off, pierre was standing above you with his hand held out. you smiled, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull you out of the car. "we did it, p -" you said just loud enough for him to hear over the cheering.
"we did it, y/n/n." pierre replied and with that, you both turned and ran hand in hand to your team who was waiting with open arms to greet their heroes.
ynuser has made a post
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ynuser: we did it 🩷 thank you to alpine for believing in me, thank you to pierre for being the best teammate a girl could ask for, thank you to my friends and family for supporting me through the ups and the downs and thank you to my fans -- i love you all so much
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user1: i've never shed so many tears over a race before
yourbff: i feel like a proud parent rn
ynuser: thanks for never giving up on me bestie
georgerussell63: you're a force to be reckoned with y/n. congratulations on an impressive drive! today is your day 🤍
ynuser: mark your calendars! 11/3 is national y/n day
landonorris: speechless... i am so proud of you. if someone had to be up there besides me, i'm so glad it was you 😉
ynuser: thank you lanny. only thing that would have made it better is if you were with me up there 🩷
user10: tea LOL
francisca.cgomes: i dont think i've ever been happier?? my two favorite people are on that podium?
ynuser: stop dont make me cry agAIN
pierregasly: thankful for you mon ami
ynuser: 🤍🩷
lewishamilton: being a barrier breaker is never easy y/n but you are crushing it. i am proud to race with you!
ynuser: you have no idea how much this means to me lewis
user9: thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to prove everyone wrong
user95: nothing could have prepared me for 1) them running hand and hand to their team, 2) y/n crying tears of joy on the podium and 3) gr63 picking y/n up and twirling her around in parc ferme
user2: george and y/n were so cute it was actually sickening. did you see the way he fixed her hair after putting her down
user95: and how he wiped away her tears??? yeah i saw it 🥹
user2: i want them together so bad
user10: you are going down in the history books
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thank you for reading!!! likes, feedback and reblogs are welcome!! massively appreciate all of the support on this little series. i am really enjoying it too
tag list from part 1: @yawn-zi @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @divagreymare @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ferakillia @stressed-cherry @sassyangel16 @mxdi0 @awritingtree @danielricciardoslut3 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @seasonswinter @rawr-123s-stuff @grussellsprout @belncaldern @ellelabelle @rafeyybabyy
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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misswynters · 2 days ago
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Broken and whole
pairing | Viktor x gn!reader
no warnings just passionate kissing
a short drabble until we wait for the next three episodes with jesus viktor <3 (he’s always been so fine)
– let me know if you would like to get tagged in arcane fics
[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3
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In the night sky as the moonlight shines through the windows, the lab was filled with the low hum of machinery. It had a faint metallic scent of Viktor’s latest work. You leaned against the wall, watching him from across the room as he worked, utterly engrossed in his latest project. He had changed so much recently, both in body and spirit. The hextech augmentation now coursing through his leg gave him a powerful, refined look, yet you sensed a hidden struggle behind his carefully guarded gaze. You knew how he was. His mind was only half here, the other was lost somewhere between ambition and uncertainty.
He hadn’t noticed your arrival yet, too focused on the delicate mechanisms of the device in front of him. You admired him, his steady hand, his unwavering concentration, the way his golden eyes seemed to burn with a fire that was part passion, part burden. Yet you could see the toll it took, even if he would never admit it.
“Viktor,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him.
His head lifted, and his intense gaze softened slightly as he saw you. “Ah,” he said, letting out a breath, “I didn’t realize you were here.” There was a hint of relief in his voice, as if your presence offered him a reprieve from the depths of his mind.
You approached him slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of the table. “I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. “It’s been days, Viktor. You need to rest.”
A flicker of defensiveness crossed his face, but it melted quickly, replaced by something almost vulnerable. “Rest,” he echoed, his voice laced with exhaustion. “It feels like a luxury I cannot afford.”
You stepped closer, your heart aching at the sight of him so worn down, so caught between his dreams and the demands of his body. “Even visionaries need a break,” you murmured, reaching up to gently place a hand on his shoulder. He was warmer than you expected, his skin cool to the touch from the metal but still unmistakably him.
Viktor looked down at your hand, as if surprised by the intimacy of the gesture. His gaze softened, and he let out a soft, reluctant sigh. “Perhaps… perhaps you’re right,” he admitted, a slight smile breaking through the intensity of his features. “You always have been, haven’t you?”
There was a warmth in his voice that pulled you closer, and for a moment, you forgot the cold metal and complex machinery that surrounded you. You reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders under your touch.
“Viktor…” you murmured, your voice almost trembling with the unspoken words you had held back for so long. He looked at you, truly looked, his golden eyes reflecting something vulnerable, something raw that he rarely let show. “Yes?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Without thinking, you leaned in, your fingers tracing along his jawline, feeling the softness of his skin against the hardness of his prosthetic. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head toward you, his gaze focused solely on your face, as if you were the only thing grounding him in this moment.
“I worry about you,” you whispered, your voice almost lost in the quiet hum of the lab. “You give so much of yourself, but you leave so little room for…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “For someone to care for you.”
Viktor’s expression softened, his hand lifting slowly to touch yours, his fingers tentative but warm. “I… I hadn’t realized,” he murmured, his gaze dropping for a moment before he met your eyes again. “But with you, it feels… different.”
A moment of silence passed between you, and in that silence, the unspoken words lingered, the weight of everything you had both held back coming to the surface. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor leaned forward, his face mere inches from yours.
“Different how?” you asked, your heart pounding as you felt his breath against your lips.
“Like I could… lose myself in you,” he whispered, a vulnerability in his voice that shook you to your core.
Before you could respond, his lips brushed yours, soft at first, testing, as if he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands moving to cup his face as he deepened the kiss, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. There was a hunger in his kiss, a desperation that spoke of the weeks, months, maybe even years he had spent holding back, afraid to want this, to want you.
The passion between you ignited, his lips pressing against yours with a fervor that surprised you both. Viktor’s hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if he needed to feel every inch of you, as if he were afraid you might vanish. His breath was ragged, each exhale a confession of how long he had kept himself from this moment.
He pulled back, only slightly, his golden eyes searching yours, his face open in a way you had never seen. “You…” he whispered, as if the words failed him, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are the one thing that makes me feel whole.”
You could see the storm of emotions in his gaze. Desire and hope. They were all woven together, vulnerable and unguarded. You wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself sink into the feeling of him holding you, his heartbeat quickening against yours.
“You don’t have to carry everything alone, Viktor,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his, your fingers trailing down his arm, feeling the cool metal beneath your fingertips. “I’m here. Let me carry some of it with you.”
He closed his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath as he held you close, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair. “I never thought…” His voice cracked, and he took a moment to steady himself. “I never thought anyone could love someone like me.”
Your heart ached at the words, at the quiet self-doubt that he kept buried so deep. You tilted his chin up, meeting his gaze with all the strength you could muster. “I don’t love you despite anything, Viktor,” you said, your voice steady. “I love you because of who you are, all of you.”
For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and then he kissed you again, harder this time, as if pouring everything he couldn’t say into the kiss. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you even closer, his fingers pressing into you as though you were his anchor, the one steady point in the storm that was his mind.
The two of you stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet of the lab, lost in each other. Viktor’s hand traced gentle patterns along your back, his touch tender, almost reverent, as if he was memorizing every detail of this moment. And in that embrace, in the warmth of his kiss, you felt him let go of the weight he carried, just a little, as he allowed himself to surrender to you, even if only for this fleeting, stolen moment.
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writerdownbookworder · 17 hours ago
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Katie flung the door open and ushered the young king inside quickly, apologizing profusely.
King Dominick rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m inside now. Thank you.”
Katie stared for a moment as he took off his coat and hat and hung them by the door. 
“Uh, what can I do for you, Your Highness?” she asked awkwardly, gesturing for him to sit down.
The king sighed. “Truthfully, I just need a place to wait out the storm until some of my men can find me. Stupid storm came out of nowhere and my horse…couldn’t make it through. Stepped in a hole.”
Katie winced. “Is he…still out there?” 
King Dominick shrugged. “Couldn’t let him suffer out there for who knows how long.”
The wind howled outside, startling them both. Katie walked over the window and looked out. 
She turned back to the king slowly. “I hate to have to tell you this, Your Highness, but you might be stuck here longer than you thought. Snow storms especially are pretty bad here in the valley. Could last for a few days. And if no one knows where you are…” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.
He sighed, his head dropping into his hands. “Call me Dominick. If I’m going to be here for a while, we might as well dispense with the formalities. And your name is?”
“Katie,” she mumbled, slightly shocked. She shook herself out of her stupor and rushed into the kitchen, bringing back a bowl of soup for each of them. 
“Glad I made extra,” she joked with a half-smile.
They didn’t speak as they picked at their food. Neither of them said much as Katie showed Dominick to her guest room for the night.
They weren’t sure how it happened. One day, they were barely speaking, their relationship strained from proximity and difference in social class. Then the next day, they were laughing together like old friends.
It took two days for the snow to stop. Another two days for it to melt enough to travel. By then, Dominick was all too happy to wait for someone to find him, praying they would take their time.
Almost a week after the snow melted, the dreaded moment finally came with a pound on the front door of Katie’s cottage.
The two looked at each other, their eyes wide with a mixture of relief, fear, and sadness. 
Katie slowly rose and trudged over to open the door without a word, reverting back to the beginning when they barely spoke.
Dominick lunged and grabbed Katie’s wrist. “Wait,” he said desperately.
She looked at him, taking a deep breath and redrawing the lines they had slowly torn down. “Yes, Your Highness?”
Dominick winced. “Wait,” he said again.
The pounding on the door resumed, startling them.
Katie moved toward the door again. “We’re out of time. You need to go back to your life and I need to go back to mine.” She gently pulled her hand away, turning so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in her eyes.
Dominick reached for her again, but Katie pulled the door open, and the guards on the other side erupted in cheers.
They were all so busy thanking Katie and bundling Dominick onto a horse, that every guard missed the look Dominick was giving her.
Katie ignored the burning in her eyes as she watched them ride away.
A week later, a letter arrived for Katie. She burned it. For the next several months, letters kept arriving, sometimes, days apart, sometimes a week, but all from Dominick.
Katie burned every single one.
"who's this?" "it's the fucking king of England, that's who it is. Now open up, I'm drenched and I'm cold" answered a voice from the outside. "really funny sir. And original, I haven't heard this one since… Oh I'm sorry your highness"
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fallbhind · 2 days ago
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‘CASUAL’ RAFE CAMERON
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genre smut, angst wordcount 1.4k
❝ i've heard so many rumors. ❜
content warnings ,, mentions oral (f!receiving), p in v, masterbation in the bathroom, 'no attachment sex', rumors (blegh, drama llama.), rafe and reader break up. s1 era.
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it was so tiring being rafe's quick fix because you just wanted a real thing, y'know, not some quickie on his couch. the worst thing? your friends (not so friendly friends) call you a loser because you still hanging out with him, when any girl would have done dumped him and found someone better. but he is, or was your better.
sure, you did everything with rafe (when he called you up, not when you asked. sure one day you were fed up, left him a voicemail because of course he wouldn't pick up for you. "i've heard so many rumors." you said through the crackly phone. "that i'm just some girl you bang on your couch, i can't believe i thought you thought of me better."
an hour later (per usual), he answered you an hour later, telling you to 'hurry your ass out to tanneyhill'
you thought for a long hard while before ultimately deciding to head out to tanneyhill. where death literally layer waiting for you in your grave. you knew quite well what he was mad about and what he wanted, because you've sent multiple voicemails about the rumors going around outerbanks, you've heard about them and you‘be literally heard tourons living in the drama with you and rafe.
and you could never leave your back turned to long before people behind started murmuring up a storm.
you walked closer to your death in your busted up converses, running over impossible scenarios in your head. you stopped at the gate, texting rafe 'im here come to the gate.' you said with all intentions to be sassy. when you saw him, his pushed back curtain bangs, every part of him looked so hot.
he opened the gate, telling you to come on. rafe roughly grabbed your arm, taking you to his fathers study room were he did most of his work. whilst you were extremely liked throughout the cameron household, only you, rafe and maybe even sarah knew the real intent to your relationship. rafe said annoyingly, "we're not together, let me make myself clear.
it was like his mood immediately changed as he continued, "just a quick fix whenever we need it." when what he really meant to say was when he needed it. maybe you really should dump him. if that's how it really works. he kissed your forehead, "'n baby, no attachment." though three weeks ago he excused the both of you so he could be knee deep in the passenger seat while he was eating you out, remembering all those sweet nothings he whispered into you pussy that made you give him what he wanted. not to mention, he always acted so lovey dovey with you. and it was about time you got fed up.
you didn't expect for his step-mom, rose, two weeks later after the major argument with rafe to invite you for dinner at tanneyhill. rafe, put on a mock smile, ready to peel the skims dress off your body. you were greeted by ward, and did he piss you off, with the fake smiling and his eyes trailing across your body whenever he could. perv.
"welcome, you look nice and sophisticated." ward said with the nicest tone he could bear, "no wonder rafe doesn't bring you up, your so lovely i'd hog you to." he laughed, and it sounded so fake. rafe had his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the dining room.
you took a seat in between wheezie and sarah, rafe sat across from you, with a pissed off expression. like, how could your's and his situation be casual now? you've literally done every thing, fingering, eating you out, a little bit of intercourse action, you've jerked and sucked him off, and you've let him jerk off onto your tits, and it was somehow casual.
after dinner, rafe again, excused you and him to go to the bathroom. he led you to the bathroom, shutting the door as he told you demanding to get on his counter, you back pressing against the mirror. "fuck, y'look s'good tonight." he pushed up the skims dress up to your hips, "'n no underwear?"
"all'that arguin' f'nothin', still my sweet, sweet sluty girl, ain't you?" he slowly rubbed your thighs , "you gotta be quiet though, don't want to embarrass yourself, do you?" he smugly grinned when you nodded, he dipped his fingers into your cunt, and your let out a surprised gasp, squeezing around his fingers.
he kissed you, whispering sweet nothings like you and him didn't just have an argument two weeks ago.
he unbuttoned his pants, using his index to hook the loops were a belt would be to shove them down, following his boxers. he wiped the pre-cum off his tips, using his thumb to slide it into your mouth. "my girl takes everything." he whispered as you attentively sucked on his finger.
you sucked off all the pre-cum off his cock, rafe patting your cheek gently. he spread your legs more, giving him a great view of your pretty, coated pearl, pressing his finger against it, you rolled your head back into the mirror.
"rr-rafe!" you stuttered out as you cried out. he pulled away from your pretty pearl, aligning his cock with your tight hole. he thrusted into your hole, making you cry out for him again.
he squeezed your cheek, holding you in between his thumb and index finger. "c'mon baby give me more than that. not to loud though." he whispered harshly against your neck, gripping your thighs as he kept repeatedly bullying his way into you. and without break, he kept thrusting his cock into you, with a sneaky smirk. "your my girl aintchu?" he kissed your neck, taking a rest inside you.
rafe nipped at your neck as he moved his cock against your gummy hole. feeling you squeeze around him when he bite and sucked on your neck, he kept doing it. even if it felt like you wanted to squeeze his cock off inside of you. "s'tight. jus' how i like it." he whispered against your shoulder, bullying his way back in you as your gummy walls tried to push him out. he aggressively grunted in your ear, feeling the warmness off your breath as you let out a whimper and even softer moans. you gasped when he touched your g-spot, immediately convulsing around him but not yet coming on his cock.
he'd pulled out just before you could finish. he pulled his boxers, following his pants. he buttoned them up, leaving you desperate for release. you found yourself rubbing your clit trying any method of running your clit to come, though you weren't quite being able to finish off yourself. maybe the problem was that you never had to do anything yourself. you came on rafe's cock than he would come on your stomach.
you tugged your black skims dress back down, putting your heels back on as well before making your way out of the bathroom. you sat across from rafe as he had the satisfaction of making you better than before and not helping you like usual. it was great to see you a little grumpy, whilst a little nervous because you decided to be a little slut and go no underwear. but doesn't mean you weren't his little slut.
you were obviously out of it, because sarah had to tap you back into reality as everyone started eating. you cut the steak up before taking a bite of it. "this is really good ms. cameron, you'll have to teach me how to make it." you said cheerfully. rose smiled at you and nodded.
she was really proud of the fact you thought it was that good, but than of course, her cooking for the cameron's was something any mother should do, while some might think that she'd hire someone, she did it herself.
a week later, your friends had told you rafe had said it was casual still and that 'you get off when he hit it' when he never hit your clit not once. sure he left you drying for release but that wasn't the point. and that was near the last straw for you. you were tired.
you wanted a real relationship which was obvious that rafe wasn't ready for, so you found yourself calling him. and again, it wasn't something were he'd answer you, you said to him through the voicemail "i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself." you took a breath, "we're done." you said before slipping your phone in your pocket and walking away from the wreck after just having breakfast with your friend.
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TAGS .ᐟ @archiveofvirtue @sematarygirls @beausling @mattsdolll @pr3ttyf4wn
@wi4hfulth1nking @gibson-g1rl
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amongemeraldclouds · 2 days ago
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coming undone
Where Mattheo fucks away your insecurities with his mouth. Based on this request.
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Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader
Warning: smut, 18+ mdni, oral (f!receiving), established relationship, characters are aged up, plus sized reader
a/n: thank you dearly to my beloved wifeyy @pizzaapeteer for proofreading and helping with pics.
Masterlist | Mattheo Riddle Masterlist | 605 words
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“P-please, Matty” soft pleas escaped your lips, your fingers tangled in his curls as you held on to the last strands of your sanity, “need to cum.” Your shallow breaths mingled with the sloppy sounds of Mattheo’s mouth feasting on your needy cunt.
All night he worshipped you with soft kisses, long licks, and slow suctions that sent you right at the edge of the cliff, eager to surrender to the euphoric waves below, but not quite getting the final push you needed.
You tugged at his hair harder and bucked your hips when he ignored you, letting your body speak for you. A chuckle escaped his lips, “oh I’m sorry, your beautiful thighs were covering my ears pretty girl, say it again.” You groaned in frustration and his fingers replaced his mouth, rubbing slow circles around your clit. He stared at you with wild eyes, his face glistening with your slick. You were going to have to beg for it.
“I need to cum, please Matty,” you tried again and squirmed when he gently slapped your dripping pussy. Your soft whimpers filled the air and he spoke, “my pretty girl thinks she can get what she wants when she hasn’t learned her lesson yet?” There was a sharp edge to his voice that pierced through your nerves. “What did I tell you about putting yourself down?”
You closed your eyes and recalled your tears from earlier when you spilled your insecurities to Mattheo and he said he knew how to make you feel better. The pleasure made your toes curl and kept you lightheaded, but you tried to focus and recall what he told you earlier. “M-my body is beautiful.”
“And?” Mattheo pressed on, fingers moving around your sensitive spots, sending sparks of pleasures all the way down your toes.
You took in a deep breath and committed his words to memory, a vow he was desperate to carve through the depths of your soul, if that’s what it took for you to see what he saw. Breathtaking curves, thighs he could get lost in for days, and the tender softness of your flesh. “My body is beautiful and every inch of me is loveable.”
“That’s right,” he flashed you a wicked grin. “Now keep chanting that and you’ll be rewarded. Will you be a good girl for me?”
You nodded, repeating the words. Heat swelled deep in your core and you arched your back as Mattheo entered you with his fingers, coaxing your release. He sucked at your clit the way you liked it, alternating with his tongue and lips. The words rang through you until the final stroke pushed you off the edge, plunging straight into ecstasy, turning you into a moaning mess. Pleasure coursed through you in waves as you shook, walls fluttering against Mattheo’s playful fingers.
“That’s my pretty girl,” he encouraged as you gave him everything you had.
When you came down from your high, Mattheo leaned over you and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Your body is beautiful and every inch of you is loveable,” he repeated once again as sincere eyes gazed into you. He’d never let you forget.
You smiled back at him, at the boy who always dived headfirst into reckless danger with his signature smirk. Yet here he was, sweet and gentle for you. “How did I get so lucky?” you wondered aloud.
“Oh, you won’t be thinking that soon when I have you begging for me again,” he said as he unbuckled his trousers. “Didn’t think we were done yet, love? We’ve got the rest of the night ahead of us.”
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Masterlist | Mattheo Riddle Masterlist
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mandarinmoons · 14 hours ago
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This blurb was written with @incognit0slut in mind <3
Spencer was always fascinated by you whenever you got ready. He watched you as you slipped into your clothes, finding the fitting accessories and him always offering to help put something on. Every time he helped secure your necklace his breath got caught in his throat as he saw your reflection in the mirror, you seemed to be even more beautiful every day and with it it seemed like you had him even more wrapped around your finger, which he didn’t mind at all.
One particular night, Spencer was sitting on the bed as he watched you put the finishing touches on your makeup. Swiping the finishing coat of lipstick on your lips, you had a sudden idea which both you and Spencer could get joy from.
“Spence, can you come here?”
Spencer stood up and walked over to you, his hand quick to find your waist and bring you between his legs. Your hand went to his cheek, tilting it to the side and kissing his cheek a few times, making sure to get the excess lip product off.
Spencer’s eyes went wide with the amount of affection, even you felt his cheeks heat up and it only made you kiss him even more. Knowing your reservation at the restaurant was soon, you backed up to look at the masterpiece.
“You look so pretty.”
“Do I?”
Your thumb brushed over the skin of his cheek as you took in your work, the light pink color was soon to be disguised by the red hue creeping through.
“I don’t think you’ll have to clean it off as your blushing seems to cover it up pretty well.”
“Then let it be that way, let the world know that I’m loved by the most beautiful girl in the world.”
“Keep saying things like that and we won’t make it to our reservation.”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
You can find my masterlist here!
Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3
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mind-intheclouds342 · 3 days ago
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Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly
Previous - Part 16 - Next
"How do you feel today?"
You were checking on Anya, who was still resting.
Anya: "I feel much better... I hope to recover by the time the rescue comes." 
"I hope so, don't worry, even if you can't walk i will carry you." You giver her a smile
Anya: "...(Y/n), I have to tell you something"
ahead"9
Anya: "...I had hidden the gun... It's there."
She pointed to a drawer that was under Curly's stretcher, you looked at Anya for a few seconds.
"You had told me that you didn't know where it was."
Anya: "I was afraid you would put it somewhere else and it would be within his reach..."
"Mm... You did well, I would have followed the protocol and kept it with me, it would have been dangerous anyway."
Anya: "...Do you really think they're coming to rescue us? They're not going to leave us here... are they?
"Hey," you took his hand, "Everything is going to be alright, they're going to come."
Anya: "...If they don't come... Could you?..."
"They are coming"
You squeezed her hand more firmly and stayed by her side until she fell deeply asleep.
You approached Curly's stretcher to open the drawer and see the gun's safe.
You entered the code to open it and took it there, making sure it was in good condition.
You felt Curly's gaze on you when you put it away in your uniform.
"It has the safe on, it won't hurt me, don't worry. I don't want to be scolded if they find it here, the protocol says that the captain in charge must have it in their possession in case of an emergency, otherwise, they will be sanctioned. If they come and find it here, they'll make a scene."
You patted his chest a couple of times and pouted.
"Don't look at me like that, you're the one who forced me to learn the rules and follow them. It's your fault."
The man let out a sound, it seemed like he wanted to laugh at your words.
"There's not much time left... We're almost there... And when we return... You're going to be in the hospital a lot for sure, but you'll have a more comfortable bed, better care, I'll come to see you every day... And when you feel better, we'll go home... And we'll sleep together again like before, okay?"
You ran your hand over his chest, smiling at him affectionately, thinking that you would have your husband by your side again.
Curly: "Clo...sh..."
He murmured, looking at you, patiently waiting for you to understand his request. You felt curious about it, but you approached his face.
And he leaned his head to you, a small sound of a clinch could be heard.
You put your hands over your mouth, unsure of how to feel about what he did, but the sensation of having knocked your teeth together left a tingling in your mouth.
While Curly was embarrased that his plan hadn't gone as well as he had thought in his attempt to give you a "kiss."
You ran your tongue over your teeth hoping that sensation would go away faster, and as you did so, you sighed in relief.
"Don't do that again, please," you laughed, still making a couple of gestures with your mouth as if the tickling sensation had lingered. "One day you can kiss me again, but don't crash your mouth into mine with your exposed teeth, we're going to hurt each other."
He let out a whimper and turned hid head to avoid seeing you, to which you responded by leaving a kiss on his neck before leaving.
Daisuke: "Captain, I can't make Polly stop crying, please help me, Swansea told me it was my turn to take care of her and I don't know what to do!  I tried to feed her, her diaper is clean, and she doesn't want me to hold her either!"
The boy approached you with the baby in his arms, who was red from having cried for so long.
"Not here-!"
You pulled him away from the nursery so that Anya wouldn't have to hear the baby's cries.
You took the baby and laid her on the sofa to start rubbing her stomach.
So you took her little feet and started pressing them against her stomach slowly, Daisuke was already starting to panic.
Daisuke: "What's wrong with her?"
He asked in terror until they heard the fart the baby started to release, gradually calming down as she felt relieved.
"Gases," you replied, squeezing her a little more until she let it all out.
Daisuke: "My hero!"
"Now it's your turn to put her to sleep."
Daisuke: "That's easy!"
He took the baby and lay down on the sofa, placing her on top of him. Polly looked comfortable on the boy's chest, relaxed, she closed her eyes.
Daisuke: "Ta-da~"
They heard another fart from the baby again, but this time it seemed like there was something more into it.
Daisuke: "....Captainnnnn"
"...I think both of you are going to need a bathroom..."
You covered your nose, ready to help the boy.
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logansargeantsbabymom · 1 day ago
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I Said Back Off
Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader, Lando Norris x Fem!Reader, Franco Colapinto x Lando Norris
Angst
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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The world only saw Lando Norris, the quick-witted Formula 1 driver. They didn’t know about the side of him I knew—warm, caring, fiercely protective. Our relationship had been a secret for almost a year, something we wanted to keep safe from the prying eyes of the public and the pressures of the racing world. But I never expected someone to test the strength of our hidden romance as Franco Colapinto did.
The paddock was buzzing after Williams announced that Franco would be replacing Logan Sargeant. Franco had a boyish charm, that easygoing confidence that made him instantly likable. I was happy to see him get his shot in Formula 1, and I had no reason to think he’d be anything other than friendly. But from day one, he turned his attention to me in a way that was impossible to ignore. At first, I brushed it off as him trying to make an impression, especially as he didn’t know about Lando and me. But as his flirtation intensified, it became harder to ignore—and harder for Lando to tolerate.
One afternoon, I was in the paddock waiting for Lando to finish a debrief when Franco walked over, wearing his Williams team shirt and a lazy, almost arrogant grin.
“Y/N,” he greeted, giving me a once-over that felt more invasive than flattering. “You look stunning today. I bet you bring good luck to whoever you’re with.”
I laughed politely, shifting uncomfortably. “Thank you, Franco.”
He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I mean it. I’ve noticed you around, and let’s just say… I’m determined to make sure I see a lot more of you. Maybe a date after the race?”
I tried to play it off with a polite smile, but it felt slimy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He laughed, not at all deterred. “Why not? I’ve got plenty to offer, Y/N.”
The unsettling feeling in my stomach grew as Franco took a step closer, his eyes raking over me. I had a sinking feeling he wasn’t used to hearing the word “no.”
I was relieved when Lando finally emerged from his meeting. He took one look at Franco standing so close to me, and his whole expression changed. His jaw clenched, eyes darkening, and he strode over, positioning himself protectively between Franco and me.
“Is there a problem here?” Lando asked, voice tense.
Franco’s smile only widened as he shrugged. “No problem at all, mate. Just getting to know Y/N a bit better. Can’t blame a guy for being interested in a beautiful girl.”
Lando’s hand tightened around my waist, his jaw ticking with restrained anger. “Maybe you should focus on your driving, Franco. Y/N’s not interested.”
Franco gave him a dismissive look, his smirk unwavering. “That’s funny, Norris. Just because you say she’s not interested doesn’t mean it’s true. I think she deserves to make her own choice.”
I could practically feel the fury radiating off Lando as he squared up to Franco, not bothering to hide his protectiveness anymore. “Back off, Colapinto. I’m only going to say this once.”
Franco laughed, clearly amused. “Touchy, aren’t we? I didn’t know she was already spoken for. But tell me, Norris… are you sure you’re giving her everything she needs? Because I’m willing to bet I could do better.”
Lando’s fists balled at his sides, and it took every ounce of restraint I had to pull him away before things got physical. “Lando, it’s not worth it. Let’s go,” I said softly, trying to defuse the tension.
Reluctantly, he let me guide him away, though I could feel his entire body still wound tight with anger. Once we were alone in his driver’s room, he paced back and forth, struggling to calm down.
“Who does he think he is, talking to you like that?” Lando muttered, his voice sharp with frustration. “He’s just a rookie. No one even knows his name, and he thinks he can just… just take you from me?”
I moved closer, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Lando, he doesn’t know about us. That’s why he’s acting this way. Just ignore him. He’ll get over it.”
But Lando shook his head, his expression hard. “I don’t care. I don’t care if he knows or not. I don’t want him near you.”
-------------------------------------
Race day arrived, and Lando seemed more tense than usual. Even as he prepared to get into the car, his eyes kept flicking over to me, as if making sure I was out of Franco’s reach. I tried to stay out of sight to avoid more confrontation, but Franco didn’t make it easy. Just before the race started, he found me in the garage, that same smirk on his face as he strode over.
“You know, I’m still serious about that date, Y/N,” he said smoothly, grabbing my hand before I could pull it away. He brought it to his lips, holding my gaze in a way that felt more like a challenge than a gesture of admiration. “Imagine the life we could have together. You don’t have to settle for second place.”
“Franco,” I said firmly, pulling my hand back. “I’m not interested.”
But he only chuckled. “That’s not the vibe I’m getting.”
Before I could respond, Lando caught sight of the scene from across the garage. His eyes blazed with fury as he marched over, grabbing Franco by the shoulder and yanking him back.
“I warned you, Franco,” Lando growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Stay. Away. From. Her.”
Franco just laughed, clearly reveling in Lando’s anger. “Calm down, Norris. You’re making a scene. What, scared of a little competition?”
“Competition?” Lando’s voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper. “I’ll show you competition.”
With that, he turned on his heel, stalking off toward his car without another word. I knew he was furious, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.
The race was brutal. Lando drove with a relentless aggression I hadn’t seen before, overtaking at every opportunity, refusing to yield an inch of space. When he finally closed in to lap Franco, I held my breath, watching as he drew dangerously close, almost forcing Franco off the track. Then, in a split second, Franco’s car veered off-course, spinning out and crashing into the barriers. The gasps around me were drowned out by the sound of metal grinding against concrete.
The cameras caught every second of it, but I knew immediately: it hadn’t been an accident. Lando had pushed him, and Franco’s car was totaled. Word quickly spread that Franco had injured his wrist, an injury that would keep him off the track for weeks.
When I finally found Lando after the race, I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Lando, tell me you didn’t do that on purpose.”
He looked at me, eyes still blazing with the same anger I’d seen earlier. “He was asking for it, Y/N. I warned him. He wouldn’t leave you alone, and then he had the nerve to say he could treat you better? I wasn’t going to stand for that.”
I stared at him, torn between anger and an unsettling sense of pride. “But Lando… you could’ve seriously hurt him.”
He pulled me close, his expression softening just slightly. “I’d do anything to protect you, Y/N. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else thinking they have a claim on you. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”
My heart softened, even though I knew he’d crossed a line. “Lando, you can’t just—”
But before I could finish, he kissed me, right there in the open, in front of cameras and crew. Our secret was no longer hidden; he was making it known to everyone, Franco included, that I was his.
As the days passed, Lando’s apology came in small gestures—a handwritten note slipped into my bag, flowers on my doorstep, a quiet apology over dinner. He promised me he’d try to control his temper, and slowly, I forgave him. Because, in the end, there was no denying that he’d done it out of love, fierce and unyielding, a love I couldn’t resist.
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multipleoccupancy · 7 hours ago
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The Inspector nodded to Violet as she greeted him and then gave a short and quiet hum of agreement at her dismissive reply. Taking mental notes of her attitude and deciding he didn't much like it but she was at least holding her own for now and had not done anything outwardly troubling. He turned his attention back to Theo who was still considerably uncomfortable but had put his hand on Mauve's as it rested on his shoulder.
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"I work for an organisation who specialise in things like this," he gestured to the monster on the floor, "I and many other agents strive tirelessly and endlessly to keep people safe and on more than several occasions already saved these United States and even the world from this danger and I think that you," he pointed to Theo specifically for now, "might be the sort of person who could help us."
Theo looked over at Mauve, amazement in his eyes as it had been exactly what they had talked about, an official branch helping to save the world from monsters! Their agent idea had already been done and here was a man offering it all to them... or just to him? He looked back to the agent.
"Now I have an offer to make you. You can come with us and we are interested in putting you through school, getting you into the FBI Academy for you to follow that path which you have expressed previously. We'll wipe everything clean, you'll be cleared as innocent and wrongly interned in this ward so that you can walk around free and innocent. Your parents won't have to pay a cent, you will be sponsored through collage and you will work hard to achieve the results necessary to become an FBI agent." The inspector waited for a moment while Theo clearly observed him, he was after all the man who had put him inside in the first place and he was offering him everything he wanted on a plate, just like that. "On the condition that you work for us. You do as we say, you protect our secret from everyone including family and friends, no one can know. You do exactly as you are told and follow every instruction we issue you to the letter."
The Inspector knew that was less appetising as an end point but he leaned forward and looked Theo directly in the eye, ignoring Violet completely for now, she wasn't who he was after. "Or," his voice had dropped to a more threatening tone, "you can stay in here and become nothing more than a drooling mess until the end of your life. Stuck with absolutely no way out. You will stay here, where no one will believe you, where you will one day get one shock therapy session too many." He eyed Theo who gulped loudly, terrified of that thought and squeezing Violet's hand on his shoulder. "This is a one time offer, lad. What's it going to be?"
Theo opened his mouth but it was dry inside, it was as if he had just lost his voice, the man had offered him everything he had ever wanted and now was threatening to force him through his worst nightmare. However, he couldn't leave Mauve. "My friend helped me, Mauve needs to come too." He insisted, "We both deserve to be out of this ward. Please, promise me that she will be freed with me." The Inspector's lip curled and he looked to Violet, one eye brow raised.
"She will have her own deal." He said lowly and then offered his hand out for Theo to shake. "Now or never kid, I am not playing around, that deal has a time limit of seconds. You shake my hand and get out of here today or I get up, walk out and leave you here to rot." Theo's heart raced in his chest, his eyes were wide and his breath was almost frozen in his lungs, stinging him and aching at every bruise, shock, or most recently stab and bite he'd ever had in that ward. He couldn't go through more of it and with Mauve getting her own deal to leave, Theo took the Inspector's hand and shook it.
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Violet quickly fell asleep, but she woke up just as fast, startled by a nightmare. After that, she didn't dare fall back asleep, discreetly observing the orderly as he cleaned up the whole cell. It wasn't too hard to pretend to be asleep, lying down next to Theo. After a while, the cell was perfectly clean (save for the dead monster in the corner), but Violet wished the orderly would have given them clean pajamas too. She was still covered in blood, but it had dried up now, forming an uncomfortable layer over her skin.
With her eyes half-closed, she noticed the two men as they stood outside the room. Violet didn't know who they were, but she assumed they were the Delta Green agents sent to offer Theo his "deal". When the orderly went to wake Theo up, she didn't bother acting as if she was sleeping, simply sitting up on the bed.
Theo's warning confirmed her thoughts: this was a Delta Green agent. But not just any agent. The agent who had framed Theo and sent him to the ward. Her look hardened, and she put a protective hand on Theo's shoulder.
The man sat in front of them, introducing himself. "Hello, inspector," she replied coldly. Violet was unmoved by the agent's praise. She really didn't care if he was impressed! As far as she was concerned, he was a wicked man. But she knew she couldn't make a scene, and risk Theo's deal in the process. She had to grit her teeth and swallow all the things she really wanted to say.
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"It ain't our first rodeo," she replied dismissively, hinting at Theo's first monster encounter, and her own "encounter", which was in her file.
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baphometsss · 1 day ago
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I don't wanna sit here and act like I'm a professional or anything, because I'm not, but as someone who has had to do a lot of work to overcome trauma and reconfigure my brain more or less from the ground up, there's a lot I have to say about Solas's mental state
We know that Solas was essentially used and abused by Mythal for millennia. Even if he wasn't under a geas, he was twisted from his purpose by being made to fight, and then created the Wolf's Fang which was used to make the Titans tranquil and started the Blights. He made those choices himself, but it's important to understand that no choice is ever made in a vacuum. She took advantage of his vulnerability when he was given a body after however long as a spirit semi-existing peacefully in the Fade, and moulded him into a weapon.
He is broken, because Mythal broke him. I'm not incapable of seeing why she did what she did because like I said, no one makes choices in a vacuum and I could write about her for a long time too (in a similar way to how I have had to do myself in my own life in understanding why others abused me). He was so traumatised by everything that happened and he was trauma bonded to Mythal pretty much from the minute he gained a body. Trauma bonds are not about love. He definitely interpreted it that way, as most people do, but that's the weapon abusers use to keep the victim under their control. Abuse abuse abuse show a scrap of love and then abuse some more. If I just take it, I'll get the love/attention I need. I will earn it, because love is suffering, and I have to suffer to earn getting my basic needs met from my family/friends. Mythal, as his creator, was the one who he would've attached to in a similar way to spirit Cole/human Cole.
Trauma bonds are pathological. Mythal made him believe that if he did as she asked, and kept supporting her, then eventually he would gain her favour and they would be able to free all the elves, and he'd be able to live according to his true nature, which is one where he doesn't have to fight. (Remember his personal quest in DAI? He actually kills the rebel mages for corrupting his friend--another Wisdom spirit--into Pride.) In reality, she was just using him. She always kept the bone just out of reach for her lapdog. The line from Rook where they say (paraphrasing here) 'you know, I was actually excited about getting your approval... That's how you do it, isn't it? Keeping giving little scraps of approval to keep someone loyal, and then you turn around and betray them' is so telling too.
Where--or from whom--do you think he learned to do this?
It literally reeks of a pathological trauma bond and honestly, with how isolated, 'grim and fatalistic' Solas is, it is not a surprise that he's so broken.
Solas, essentially, is little more than a lap-dog to Mythal. He followed her like a lost puppy, because especially in his early days, that's kind of what he was. You have to remember that most of the insight we get about Mythal is from Solas's perspective, and he is not a reliable person when it comes to her after so long being repeatedly terrorised and twisted and manipulated. There are several instances where he describes being betrayed by her, and mentions some of the things she did, but he never quite holds her fully accountable and ends up directing his rage elsewhere. (The parallel between Mythal/Solas and the rebel mages/Wisdom is important here.)
This awesome post by @mythalism only reinforces this. He is so messed up in that scene, he is broken, he is holding the Wolf's Fang up, trying to give it to her because it symbolises the burden he has carried for thousands of years trying to avenge her death. He never wanted the Fang, like he never wanted a body. Mythal just stands over him, fully aware of what she did to him, and only getting him to stop because Rook petitioned her successfully, and the reunion with the more benevolent Mythal within Morrigan tempered her anger. She was a goddess, with the unequal power dynamic, right to the end.
As a side note, on the potential romance element between Mythal and Solas, I read an excellent breakdown of it on Reddit a while ago about how out of character it would've been for Solas to keep something like that from a romanced Lavellan, especially in Trespasser when he comes clean about his plan/past. I can't find it now because it was pre-Veilguard release, but it made a lot of sense to me. Solas and Lavellan never have a love scene in DAI because Solas didn't want to 'lay with them under false pretences'. Lying about who you are when sleeping with someone is nonconsensual. You can't consent to sleeping with someone if you don't know their true identity, and someone who knowingly lies about who they are to get into your pants is a sexual predator. For someone who led a slave rebellion (no doubt many of them being sex slaves), and a former spirit of Wisdom, Solas would've been well aware of this. In the unsent letter from Solas to Lavellan he says he came so close to breaking and desperately wanted to stay with them as Solas, with the implication being that that is where he planned to sleep with them once he'd come clean. But because he stops, because he's still unable to forgive himself or release himself from his trauma bond with Mythal, he breaks away, and they never have sex.
Bottom line: Solas would've been honest about it. Especially that. As the Inquisitor says, he can't lie about his heart.
And it's why the Solas/Lavellan romance is so powerful because quote, 'you change everything'. Solas thought he knew what love was, that love was loyalty, devotion, worship, etc. It's not just his plans or worldview that Lavellan changes. Lavellan sees him for who he is, without the mantle of Dread Wolf, and because of that he's able to express his true nature to her, even if he's not being totally honest in Inquisition. Lavellan got much closer to the real him than most, as he says, and changed his understanding of love completely. Unfortunately, he has unfinished business, an unresolved trauma bond, and his crushing sense of duty to the past is what keeps him from taking that final step towards letting go of it entirely. Trick also says Solas doesn't think he deserves love, which tbh is kind of a hallmark trait of people who have survived abuse.
And honestly? Call me a simp but I think he really was trying to get the Inquisitor to stop him. He saw himself being unable to let go because he was so broken and burdened by his guilt, and knew he couldn't save himself--was too proud to admit that he couldn't, because how pathetic does it make him look? And how could he stop now without rendering all the damage he'd wrought pointless? Yet here was someone who had changed him right down to his core, who understood him in a way few people ever had, whom he trusted, whom he loved in a way he hadn't loved anyone else before. It took him 'centuries' to build up rapport with the members of his rebellion. The man doesn't not know how to form attachments without trauma, and suddenly he forms a strong one with someone who loves him completely and without condition. It's a jarring change.
Lavellan says that maybe they're being prideful themselves, refusing to see their own folly. But I think in admitting that they might be wrong, that it might be wishful thinking borne from misguided love to a truly terrible person, they've rendered the point moot. It shows self-awareness, which isn't folly.
If anyone can make Solas understand true love, it's Lavellan. Lavellan loved him when he was being his true self. Lavellan loved him after his betrayal was revealed. Lavellan loved him when his guilty conscience and terrible actions almost destroyed the world. Lavellan loved him because they knew the real him, and knew that his heart and spirit were broken, and knew that their love would endure, that their love would heal him.
And that's exactly where they end up. Healing the past, soothing the Blight, and loving one another completely.
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cosmicalily · 2 days ago
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"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here
procedural memory | kim seungmin x fem!reader
procedural memory: a type of implicit memory that is categorised as the unconscious guide to the processes and tasks performed on a daily basis.
author's note: this might be one of my favourite seungmin fics i've ever written. and maybe i'm biased because he is my bias and i love strawberry matcha, but i think sometimes it's okay to be self indulgent. enjoy!
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There were many things that Seungmin would do without realising, as if he was on autopilot. Actions that were ingrained into his daily routine, little activities that made up his day without his awareness. The way he made his bed, the double knot he always tied on his shoelaces, the route he took to the coffee shop where he worked. He loved his routine; he loved simplicity and consistency.
At work, he thought even less about his actions. He was a quick learner, and had mastered the art of perfect coffee early on. He heard the words ‘latte’ or ‘flat white’ and somehow the completed drink would appear in front of him thirty seconds later.
“Do you do iced strawberry matchas?” a voice asked, snapping Seungmin out of his coffee-scented daze. He looked at the shot he’d started running for a flat white and then at you, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes sparkling. A soft blue scarf was wrapped around your neck, covering your chin, and you wore a cosy navy cable knit sweater, just a little too big at the sleeves.
Seungmin thought intently. “We don’t,” he said truthfully, drumming his fingers on the benchtop. “But give me a second. I’ll try and make something for you.”
You beamed in excitement. “Thank you!”
“It’s no problem,” Seungmin gave a half smile back, digging around for the matcha powder. “Although, I have to say, who orders an iced drink in the middle of winter?”
Your cheeks flushed a little pinker and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up, it’s business for you, isn’t it? And I’ll tip, obviously, because it’s a custom order. They just don’t taste as good warm. I tried it once, and it was awful.”
“Was it?” Seungmin paused, tipping the ice cubes from your cup back into the tray and placing it into the freezer. “I’m going to try and change your mind. Out of confidence as a good barista, but also out of concern for your health, because you’re literally going to freeze as soon as you step outside with ice in your system.”
“And if I don’t like it?”
“It’s on the house.”
“Deal,” you agreed, leaning against the counter and watching as he poured the frothed strawberry milk, creating a little bear design. He leaned to grab a lid, but you knocked his hand away. “It’ll cover the art you did,” you protested, and he shook his head in amusement.
You breathed in the soft, sweet scent and took a sip, thinking hard. Seungmin watched intently, his attention distracted from the three coffee orders he had lined up to complete next. You smiled, and his face softened. “Good?” he asked.
“It’s shit,” you deadpanned, then burst out laughing. “It’s amazing! How much do I owe you for it?”
“Nothing,” Seungmin replied, eyes shining.
You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a warning look. “Do you do this often, then?” you asked, taking another long sip of your drink.
“What do you mean?”
“Save girls with silly drink orders from hypothermia.”
“Sure, it’s my favourite pastime,” Seungmin replied seriously, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “No, not ever before. You’re the first, Strawberry.”
Your smile widened at the nickname. “Even if you’re lying, I feel special. Thank you…” you paused.
“Seungmin,” he finished, handing over a latte to a man behind you.
“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll be back, I promise!”
He nodded. “I know you will. See you around, Miss Matcha.”
You snorted and walked towards the door, spinning around and blowing him a quick kiss. He winked and you burst into a fit of laughter, and once you were properly out of sight, he let a full smile creep across his face.
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By your third visit to the coffee shop, he didn’t even need a prompt to make your order. By the fifth, your drink would be sitting, ready for you, extra hot. Even though you no longer had a reason to wait, you always stayed to talk to him, and he was thankful you did.
Soon, Seungmin became unconsciously aware of your routine, of your timing, of your daily scarf rotation. Once winter ended, he caved and made you your first iced strawberry matcha, which you declared better than any other iced drink you’d ever consumed. He still refused to let you pay, but he was always accepting of your newfound habit of leaning across the counter and giving him a quick kiss before you left for the morning. Initially on the cheek, but by mid spring, on the lips. Your kisses tasted of your mauve lipstick, cinnamon, and of course, strawberry matcha.
After a year of dating, you moved into his apartment. Seungmin, a lover of routine and consistency, found himself mesmerised by your sporadic actions and in the moment decisions. It didn’t frustrate him, the way he worried it would. Your presence was a constant, something dependable that he centred his new, irregular routine around, filled with evening walks and beach day trips. He learnt your habits, and soon, your actions were as familiar to him as his own. He would still make his bed in the morning, and you'd help him, finishing the job off with the two jellycat puppies you'd bought for your six month anniversary. He would tie a double knot in his shoelaces, and wait for you to slip on your ballet flats. Whilst you always had your signature drink at his shop, he knew you loved chamomile before bed, and there was always a mug of it by your bedside after you'd gotten out of the shower.
And of course, you did the same for him, but in your own way. You'd lay on top of him, playing with his hair for hours, explaining every single thing you adored about him. You cooked him dinner, and you'd sit on the counter beside him as he did the dishes. It was routine. You were each other's routines.
He kept working at the coffee shop, but now as a manager, although he always insisted on making your drink himself, and you would visit him, sometimes bringing your laptop and glasses with you to set up in a corner and work, other times bringing whatever book you were currently engrossed in.
“Hi baby,” you smiled up at him, stretching your arms and dog-earing your page.
“You know I hate when you do that,” he groaned, sitting beside you on the bench. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and you giggled.
“I know, but like, it shows the love I have for my books. The ones that have crumpled pages and tea stains and frayed edges are the ones I read the most.”
Seungmin shook his head. “I’m just teasing. I love you and your broken books.”
“They aren’t broken-” you protested, but he cupped your face in his hands and silenced you with a soft kiss.
“I love you,” he repeated, eyes glossed over.
“I love you too,” you gazed back at him. Your book fell off your lap, but you didn’t move to grab it. The strawberry matcha Seungmin had brought over was probably cooling, but you didn’t care. It was moments like this where everything felt like muscle memory, where nothing felt new or uncomfortable. He was familiar.
He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers in his. You gently stroked his thumb, then whined when he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket. “What are you doing?” you asked, then you paused.
He’d slotted a ring on your finger.
“You can say no,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. "You can take it off. But it feels right for me. I saw it in the window the other day and I didn’t even think, I just bought it. Which is crazy, because you know I overthink and overplan everything.”
“I know, you’re a dork,” you smiled, but your eyes were glassy. “Why the fuck would I say no? Of course I’ll marry you.”
Seungmin breathed out and pulled you in a tight embrace. He felt warm, he smelled like coffee, and the skin of his neck was soft against your cheek. “I’m glad, because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
“I’m only doing it for the strawberry matcha, of course,” you quipped, chuckling.
“I’m only doing it out of pity,” he added.
“Dickhead.”
“Asshole.”
You leaned against him, his arms around your waist. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your shoulder, and you rubbed his back. A buzz went off in his back pocket, a reminder that his break was over.
“So,” he broke the hug, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your drink’s probably cold. So I guess, as a good barista, I probably have to make you a new one.”
“I’m gonna make out with you for hours tonight, Kim Seungmin,” you declared. “You’re my dream boy.” You blew him a kiss as he stood up, taking your drink with him, and he winked in return.
You watched his reflection on the steel coffee machine, and saw him smile.
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meowstri · 1 day ago
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you could wipe my mind, i'd still be stuck on you
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tags: peter parker x fem!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, college/university au, lots of sarcasm, 1k words synopsis: while going out shopping to buy snacks for movie night, your bf, peter parker, tries to convince to you to let him get a new video game. chaos ensues. a/n: wow hey welcome to my first fic posted on here... sorry if this seems rushed haha. tysm @103rafes for helping me with the ending, ily man. reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!! title is from stuck on you by grentperez
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"alright, i think we've got everything!" your eyes scanned through the various assortment of junk food in the grocery cart. "movie night is gonna be awe-" You turned to face your bf only to find no one standing near you. "ugh... where is that idiot?"
walking around the store, you find your boyfriend of 1 year, peter parker, in the electronics section. of course he was. you thought, he probably even forgot what they were at the store for.
he was staring intently at the newest spider-man video game. Spider-Man 2, it had came out just last month and everyone was going crazy over it. he had a scrunched up look on his face, studying the cover of the game in the clear display case.
as you walked up to him, his senses picked up on your location and he turned his head around, quickly glancing at you before turning his head back towards the display case. "i still can't believe they make video games of me. they really captured my likeness" he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "i am so going to get this."
rolling your eyes, you sighed. "no we're not mister. c'mon its time to go home." you tugged on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, but Peter still didn't move an inch.
"please y/n... ned has the game! so does everyone we know!"
"why don't you just go over to ned's house and play it?" you suggested, rolling your eyes once again. "yeah, keep rolling your eyes. it'll be stuck like that soon enough." he huffed with a pout. "if you let me get it i'll let you pick the movie tonight. i know you love those cheesy hallmark movies..." peter said in a sing-songy voice. he leaned in to give you a small peck on the cheek and looked at you with his chocolate puppy-dog eyes.
"your silly antics don't work on me." you can't help but let out a giggle as buried his face into your neck and kissing every expanse of skin on it. peter wrapped his arms around your waist hugging you close. "but no. out of the both of us, you're the worst at managing your spendings and we need the money."
he hummed. "but mr. stark gave me my paycheck on monday, its more than enough to buy the game and put away some of it in our savings..."
"you mean your allowance?"
"hey! i may not be an avenger, but i still work for one of the richest people in america" he laughed, messing up your hair. "so... can i still get it?"
you hesitated for a moment, doing some calculations in your head. the two of you lived together in a dingy apartment and did extra jobs on the side to keep the both of them afloat. you knew peter worked hard a lot, trying to keep his grades up while maintaining his life as the city's spider-man so maybe he did deserve something nice for himself.
the corners of your mouth lifted in a small smile. "well..."
“did you see that! i beat his ass so hard.” your bf laughed. you watched intently at the screen trying to decipher what was going on but all you could see were bright flashes of colour.
“you already beat ass in real life. don’t understand why you need to buy this game just to play a virtual version of yourself.” you said jokingly while eating from the bowls of chips and candy you bought earlier that day. you grimaced as you peter took a large handful of m&ms and popcorn, shoving them into his mouth.
“true, but this is more fun.” he said between mouthfuls. “plus i don’t get hurt.” he gave you a dorky little grin.
well there was no denying that, you thought as you smiled back. as much as peter tried to argue, you insisted on paying for the game as a gift. just seeing peter smile over some silly game made you fall in love with him all over again. it was surreal, dating the spider-man. the same one that appeared on the news 24/7. the same one that made you worry for days wondering if he might come back from saving crime.
but he wasn’t just spider-man. he was just plain old peter parker. the boy from queens that you met all those years ago. the boy who was practically an academic genius and the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.
interrupting you from your thoughts, peter wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held you tightly. he had already finished playing the game but he still grasped the controller in his hand.
“what are you thinking about?” he asked quietly, playing with the strands of hair falling on your shoulders. he smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of butter from the popcorn.
“what?”
peter chuckled. “you were staring at me with that look you get when you’re thinking really hard. like your nose scrunches up a bit and you have this wide smile on your face”
“oh… i wasn’t really thinking about anything.” you locked eyes with him, staring into his big, doe brown eyes. you shimmied closer to him and rested your head on shoulder. “just thinking about how great you are.”
“thanks for feeding my ego— ow!” you punched him on the arm but there was no anger to it. “im joking, im joking. you’re great too.” the smile lines on his face deepened.
peter leaned his head against yours. “thank you for getting me that game by the way. i love you.” he pressed his lips against your temple, making a line down towards your cheeks, then ending at your lips. they were soft and warm, and he tasted like slightly like chocolate.
“mm, love you too spidey-boy. now play your game, i didn’t spend 90 dollars on that for nothing.” you giggled lightly.
unable to pull away from your face, he grumbled. “okay, okay! way to ruin a moment with my lovely girlfriend…”
“does this spider-man have a girlfriend too?” you nodded towards the screen.
“you’re better than any video game girlfriend i could have as spider-man”. you couldn’t help but let out a string of laughs as he pulled you in again, planting kisses all over your face.
fin.
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samw1se · 3 days ago
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I was born blind in my left eye. It never got fixed. Many of these points are true in my experience, except I still have an eyeball. Here are some additional fun facts from my realm of experience:
-my elementary school knew I was blind in one eye but did not tell my parents. I started to get a little farsighted in the 4th grade so I went to get readers and the eye doctor told me, a nine year old girl, that my life was forever fucked and I’d never be fully independent, never drive, never go to college, because I was disabled and it was too late to fix it. We got a second opinion. And then a third.
- (you can try to fix my kind of blindness up until about the age of five because the brain is still really elastic and capable of fixing the broken shit. They fix it by putting a patch over your good eye to force your bad eye to see. They tried it when I was nine but it was too late, so I essentially spent a year having my life ruined by being suddenly completely blind all the time and it sucked ass.)
- you make a great marksman and baseball batter once you figure out how your lack of depth perception works. Not a great outfielder though.
- things sometimes just kind of vanish on you. I got a massive concussion as a kid from running into a pole head on. The pole had been there as long as I could remember. I interacted with the pole every day. But one day I was running and the last thing I remember is thinking, hey, where did the pole go? Like the equipment holding it up was still there but the pole just seemed gone. This also happened several times to me when trying to catch pop flies or headbutt soccer balls. They’d just go away.
- people will indeed forget all the time and throw shit at you from the blind side and hit you in the head, or hug you and scare the shit out of you. A boy asked me out once after he hit me with a frisbee on my blind side.
- and then some people will always think of you when they encounter one eyed things. When I was an RA in college, some of my residents were so very pleased to bring me a one-eyed goldfish they’d found in the feeder tank at the pet store 😩 we named him one eyed Willy and he lived for like five years and survived two cross country trips in a car (in a Nalgene bottle both ways)
- I don’t have a traditional lazy eye (my eyeball can see but there is no connection between it and my brain so the message goes unrecieved) so I don’t really have much of a wandering eye, unlike other folks with amblyopia. I can also only cross my good eye, I cannot wink with my good eye without moving my entire face (and I had to learn how to do this by pushing my cheek and forehead muscles together with my hands until I could do it on my own so I look very stupid) and my good eye also tends to have trouble when looking at blue light for too long since it gets all the strain.
-additionally, the only times my eye seems to look lazy is in the occasional picture. I call it my googly eye.
- re writing advice: I took a writing class in college where we spent a lot of time journaling about our own bodies and then writing stories with what we had learned… my wonderful teacher guessed that I was blind in my left eye because of how I described things. I never used left or right when talking about objects being around characters’ bodies, only front and back. She fucked me up with that one.
- I get a lot of bruises on my left arm because I struggle with depth perception when walking around corners/doors on that side
- they gave me glasses as a kid to try to fix it after patching didn’t work (leading to the discovery that I don’t have a traditional lazy eye) and the left side was the biggest and thickest fucking lens you’ve ever seen and the right side was just normal glass no rx. It made the glasses sit crooked on my face so I stopped wearing them.
- they test you for amblyopia during your drivers license test and I cheated both times I’ve had to go take it 🙃 they put a ball on one lens and a box on the other and they ask if the ball is inside or outside the box and I didn’t see no goddamn ball but the man next to me said it was inside so I did too.
- if I hadn’t cheated, I could still get a license, just with a special note on it, which i didn’t know both times I cheated.
- and yes, cannot agree more with being a safe ass driver. People get frustrated because I follow so far behind other cars and give people so much room all the time but I have a clean ass driving record.
- following that, I have a hard time sitting in the front seat when someone else is driving, especially if they are tailgaters because I feel like I am always about to crash. My husband, a notorious tailgater, says I have an invisible break I hit whenever he’s too close to someone.
- my parents made me go to a chiropractor as a kid to see if the reasoning for my blindness was a pinched nerve. It did not work.
- a redditor once told me he would end himself if he were ‘as cursed as’ me because the idea of being blind in one eye was so insanely distasteful to him. I tried explaining to him that it’s literally the only life I’ve ever known and he kept trying to tell me it was disgusting and unnatural and I lived a hideous life. I was like, dude. Go to therapy.
- if you are blind in one eye but still have an eyeball, you have one fun fact for Two Truths and a Lie always directly on hand and no one will ever guess that’s a truth.
- I am especially clumsy, and sometimes when I get up to do something and start knocking shit down, my husband plays the Godzilla theme song in his phone and it always makes me die laughing.
- when my parents found out, they demanded to know why I didn’t tell them, and I had to explain to them that it was literally all I’ve ever known, how did I know it was wrong? I thought everyone could only see one side of their nose.
Sorry this got long. I can’t sleep lol.
writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.
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cherryblossom-heart · 2 days ago
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Do I still wish it was you?
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Satoru Gojo x Reader 
Masterlist (If you're into marvel)
Summary: You were content in the darkness his absence had left you, his memory keeping you focused on one plan. It had to be a white-haired sorcerer with an annoying personality and the bluest eyes you had ever seen—the one who came and saved you from it.
12.7 k words
Content warning: ANGST, mentions of suicide, depression, violence, grief, past Toji x Reader, foul language, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all). fluff, Satoru is the sweet, jumping from a building but not a bad way, fighting, fReader
A/N: Ik this is out of my usual content but I can't get over the JJK men so, I hope you guy's like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this. 😊
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Sweat covered your forehead as you fought to recover your breath, the smell of sex and humanity filled his bedroom along with the sound of heavy breathing. It took a couple of minutes for you to finally stand from the bed, making your way to the bathroom, not bothering to cover up.
You saw your reflection in the mirror. Naked, disheveled hair, flushed skin along with droplets of sweat, and a minor bruise on your collarbone, the result of a certain white haired sorcerer’s lack of restraint. A small smile placed on your lips before you could stop it as you touched it, the skin still a little tender.
Your sight landed on the small tattoo you had on the left side of your chest, a small black lined heliotrope carefully placed on top of your heart. A prickling sensation invaded your eyes along with the painful sensation of guilt, what were you even doing here? How could you smile when he was gone?
The feelings didn’t get a chance of nesting in you though, as firm hands wrapped around waist and lips caressed your neck. Your sight darted to the mirror, meeting the most breath taking blue eyes you had ever seen along with a smile.
“If you don’t get any clothes on, I might have to fuck you again.”
You smiled at him, desire igniting again as he’s hands caressed your skin.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
A cocky smirk showed up on his face, not that it was unusual to see it. Satoru Gojo was nothing but confident, sometimes overstepping to egocentric, but you would be damned if you didn’t admit he had good reasons for it.
His lips brushed your ear, hot breath hitting your skin.
“It’s a promise that I very much intent to fulfill.”
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Satoru Gojo was going to be the death of you.
Correction, Satoru Gojo was going to be the reason you would live.
You hadn’t planned for this. You had a set plan: to become a sorceress, completing missions, breaking curses, and fighting battles, one after another. A non stop cycle of violence and war until your body gave out and if death came for you, it wouldn’t bother you. You would receive it as a long awaited friend as nothing mattered to you anymore, never since the day he died.
He was supposed to meet you back at your apartment in Kyoto, he had promised you he would be there. You waited for hours, and hours turned into days and days turned into weeks.
The last thing you heard him was a couple of text messages that read:
Job’s almost done. Maybe we should take 
a vacation, go to Las Vegas and stay at 
one of those casino/hotels you were talking
about. 11:13 pm
Anyway, I’ll see you in two days. I’ve
missed you. 11:14 pm
He vanished without a trace after that.
You moved to Tokyo as you were tracing his last steps. You had talked to Kong, who could not give you any answers. Years of dead ends and unanswered questions finally led you to give up. That day, you drank yourself to sleep.
Everyone was sure he had left you behind, taken his payment for his last job, and left the country. You couldn’t blame them, it was on brand for him to do something alike, but this wasn’t the case. You knew he wouldn’t do that to you, not when he promised he would see you.
There was also this strange feeling that had settled on your chest the day after his text. It had taken you by surprise as you were just having lunch and suddenly a sharp pain hit you in the chest and the sensation that something had gone wrong hit you. You had thought it was just stress of not seeing him, maybe a little of an overreaction from you, but as time passed, the emptiness in your chest never left.
He was dead.
After over a year of wandering aimlessly in Tokyo, a certain blue-eyed sorcerer found you. You felt his stare while you were getting your coffee, the burning sensation of a powerful presence followed you around the streets of the city. You pretended you were oblivious to it, changing your path every once in a while to double check you were being tailed.
Once the amount of people around you dissipated, you made your way to a bench in the park, sitting in it so calmly it almost seemed everything was normal for your follower. That was until you looked to the buildings on your left, your eyes connecting with a white-haired man with blackened Windsor glasses. For a second he looked surprised, as it was almost impossible that you could’ve sensed him, but a playful smiled replaced it as soon as it came.
It took him less that 60 seconds to come to approach, you crossed your legs once you felt a presence taking the remaining space in the bench you had sat on. Even when you didn’t look at him, you could still feel that cocky smile on him.
“How did you know I was following you?” He questioned, his arms spreading along the back of the bench as he made himself comfortable.
You took a sip of your coffee. “I could feel you.” You said, nonchalantly. Imitating him, you leaned back. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I teleported.” He shrugged.
“Huh, interesting.”
“You don’t seem surprised at all.” He turned around to look at you.
“Why would seeing a Jujutsu Sorcerer surprise me?” you asked, now facing him.
The air in your lungs almost disappeared as you found two blue eyes peaking over his glasses, it was almost as if they could see inside your soul. The shiny speckles that seemed to dance around his iris called you, entrancing you into looking at them longer.
Was that his power? Who was this man and why was he stalking you?
“So you know about Jujutsu Society?”
“What does it matter to you?” You barked, your harsh tone only making him smile more. “Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you following me?”
He lifted his hands. “Woah there princess, I don’t mean any harm, I promise.” He extended his right hand to you. “I’m Satoru Gojo. The strongest sorcerer in the world.” He winked as you shook his hand.
You rolled your eyes the pet name and his ego. “Sure you are.”
At the moment you didn’t believe him, thinking he was just an over confident asshole that was just pushing your buttons. Looking back, it made you chuckle at how wrong you were.
He laughed, amused at your response. “You really are something else, aren’t you?”
“Why don’t you just tell me what do you want?” You huff, already exasperated by him.
Blue eyes locked on you as he leaned forward. “Why don’t you tell me about that special grade knife you keep in that purse?”
Your pulse picked up, the feeling of your heart smashing against your ribcage so hard you felt it would burst out. You couldn’t let him take it, he gave it to you. Perhaps you were too obvious with your worries though, as his eyes traveled to the tight grip you had suddenly imposed on your bag.
“Don’t worry, I’m not taking it away.” He reassured you. “I was assigned to take it, but now you’ve captured my attention. I have a hunch you’re much more interesting than that old piece of steel.”
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You had found yourself entangled in the world of Jujutsu, at least more than you already were.
He had told you about the sorcerer world, the clans, the sorcerers, the customs, the curses, and everything that came along with that. You had known you had abilities to see things no one else seemed to notice, abilities to get rid of the monsters that crawled all over the world that you had perfected on your own, but you were never sure what to call them or what to call yourself.
Not until a black-haired man with green eyes and a purple worm surrounding him bumped you in the street. A man whose name you couldn’t even mutter without breaking down.
Now you had joined the same world he despised and worked alongside the same people he hated. The sorcerer world had found your abilities useful, at least for the time being, and they had decided, with some pressure from Satoru, that you could be a good addition to their dwelling numbers.
You didn’t like working for them; you didn’t want to do it for a long time, but you had thought it was a good way to just let go and prepare yourself for death. A jujutsu sorcerer's life span was never long; sooner than later they would find their demise. Sure, you could just kill yourself; it would probably be way faster, but if there was an afterlife and you found him there, he would be disappointed in you. Besides, it reminded you of him; he had helped you be as strong as you currently were.
So you fought, day and night; you took whatever they had; there was no small or too big of a curse for you to take. Everything seemed fine for a while; you were content with how things were for a week, until Satoru decided to intervene.
An annoying little prick—that’s what you usually describe him as. His interest in you hadn’t dwindled even after you agreed to join him; it even seemed to have made things worse. He pestered you, following you around with a cocky attitude and bad jokes, forcing you to go with him to places just so he could buy desserts. He got in the way with your missions, babysitting you in as many as he could.
The thing that annoyed you the most was the fact that he was always looking at you, not in a weird, sexual kind of way that you could’ve handled, but he did it in a way that it felt he was trying to look into your soul. Even if you couldn’t see his eyes behind the black pair of glasses, you could still feel the burn of his stare on your skin. It felt as if he wanted to know all your secrets, and for the same reason you tried to stay away from him, but the more you tried to do it, the more he seemed to put an effort into crushing it.
Satoru Gojo was the bane of your existence.
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“I told you it was a good idea to get this peach daifuku for the way home.” He said, mouth full of food. “Want one?”
“Sure.” You muttered, snatching it out of his hand.
This was the third time in a week he had decided to come with you for a mission, your patience running thin the more time you spent with the white-haired sorcerer. You had done your job without any hiccups, and the worst part about it was that it seemed he wasn’t even there to intervene if anything did happen, evidently by his relaxed stance along with his arms crossing his chest.
That could only mean that he was tasked with babysitting you or he had actively chosen to follow you everywhere, and you didn’t know which one was worse.
“Hey, Gojo...” you started, unsure on how to make your point. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know that, right? I think I’ve shown you I’m capable enough of doing this.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” He answered, lazily stretching his arms along the subway seats.
“Then why are you here?” You questioned, slapping away the arm that was on your side.
“Cause I like keeping you company.”
Cocky blue eyes met yours, except this time they weren’t all cocky; they were sincere. They looked at you with precaution, gaging your reaction towards his words as if they were almost afraid to scare you away.
You didn’t give an answer to his words, opting instead for eating your snack in silence. Maybe it was worse that he had been babysitting you; if that had been the case, you wouldn’t have had a small smile on your face.
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A knock on your door woke you from your impromptu nap; the banging was so loud it reverberated throughout the house. You looked at your watch and noticed that it was only 7 p.m., but that didn't make it any better; whoever it was, you wanted to kill them.
With angry footsteps you made your way to the door, not caring that it looked like you had just woken up.
"What?!" You yelled, flinging the door open.
Your sight was flooded with snacks and movies before revealing Satoru, his glasses slightly tilted down as he looked at your clothes.
"Nice outfit." He winked.
Suddenly you realized that the only thing you were wearing was a gray sweater, barely big enough to cover your thighs. You pulled the sweater down, warmth infiltrating your face.
"Why are you here?"
"Movie night." He said simply, pushing his way into your apartment.
Once he was in the living room, his eyes scanned his surroundings, which in turn made you a little too aware that your apartment was too empty, almost as if no one lived there.
"I don't remember inviting you." You pinched the bridge of your nose, sure a migraine was on its way.
"Hey, it's not like you have anything better to do."
After a few seconds of delivery, you grabbed the bag of instant popcorn to make it in your microwave, rolling your eyes at his smile.
Maybe it was because you were too tired to argue with him; having just woken up, your brain wasn't working so well. Maybe it was because you knew it would take less time to go along with his shenanigans than it would to argue with him.
Or maybe, just maybe, you felt lonely. Sure, Satoru wasn't your first choice, but he seemed to want to be there, even when you tried to keep away from him. There was something about his persistence that made you smile, almost like a puppy you couldn't keep away.
If you were honest, he wasn't that bad. In another life, you might have enjoyed his company, maybe even become friends, but you weren't interested in anyone else coming into your life, not with a hole in your chest with a name on it.
But just for one night, you decided to give in.
You sat down next to him and put the bowl of popcorn between you. "So what are we watching?"
"This." He handed you a DVD case with a foreign title on it, Italian, it seemed. “The movie is great; there's a lot of action; the only bummer is the main guy dies.”
You slapped his arm.
"Thanks, dickhead. Way to spoil the movie."
“Don’t be a cry baby; you could’ve guessed it within the first 10 minutes of the movie.”
You scoffed. "You don't know that."
"Sorry, my bad." He raised his hands. "You're acting like I said the main guy's love interest turns out to be working for the bad guys."
"Dude!"
He laughed, the echo of his voice resounding along the walls.
"I can't believe you fell for that."
"Just play the stupid movie."
You ended up watching two more movies that night before you both fell asleep. And in the warmth and comfort of your lonely apartment, it was the first time in a long time that you didn't think of green eyes and black hair before you closed your eyes.
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"Ah, come on. You need to give me more details." Satoru complained, walking alongside you.
"I don't have to give you shit."
It had been a few months since that movie night and you had found yourself not completely rejecting Gojo's presence, and on good days, you would say you enjoyed it. You didn't argue as much when he joined you on missions, and you didn't fight him when he wanted you to go with him to get something to eat or to your apartment to watch a movie. It was... a routine of sorts, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it at least a little.
"You can't just tell me you have a tattoo and not tell me what or where it is."
"And you'll never know."
He hurried his steps, standing in front of you, but walking backwards. He put his hands together and begged you to answer.
"Please, you must tell me, the secret could kill me. What would you do if the strongest sorcerer in the world died and it's all your fault?"
"I'd probably throw a party." You snorted.
Satoru, the drama queen he always was, put his hands over his heart, a playful 'ouch' escaping his lips.
"You hurt me, Princess. I thought you would be devastated if something happened to me." Gojo pouted, the sight making you chuckle slightly.
"Oh yes, absolutely. I would mourn you for at least ten years." You joked.
"Make it fifteen and I might consider forgiving you." He winked.
You made your way through the busy streets of Tokyo until you found yourselves standing in line for coffee, the cozy environment of the place giving you a sense of warmth.
"If I pay for your drink, will you tell me about your tattoo?" He whispered next to your ear.
The smell of his mouthwash hit your nostrils, the cool mint scent lingering in your mind for a few seconds.
"It's going to take a lot more than a bad cup of coffee for me to tell you this."
He rolled his eyes, arms outstretched in defeat as he wrapped one of them around your shoulders. You shook your shoulder, trying to get him off of you, but he didn't budge. You told yourself that just for once you would allow it.
"How about dinner sometime? Would that be enough for you to tell me?" He said casually.
You turned to him, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, thinking he was joking. Although the way he had said it made you think for a second that it was real and there was another intention behind his invitation. That thought only lasted a second as you found it impossible that he was talking about a date, so you played along.
Your eyes turned back forward as you shrugged. “Depends where you take me. Spend enough money on me and I might give you a hint."
"Oh, you're one of those girls?" He chuckled. "You only go out with someone who takes you to expensive places and showers you with gifts?"
"Well, Gojo... if you want to know all my deepest, darkest secrets, you might as well try a little harder." 
Silence fell upon you, making you think the conversation was over, but a few minutes later he spoke again, surprising you with his words.
"Alright, I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight."
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The dim lights of the restaurant made for a more private, intimate atmosphere. Gojo had actually kept his promise, you could tell the restaurant was way over your budget, the cutlery alone seemed to have cost a fortune. The waiter had been very attentive, leading you both to a table at the back of the restaurant and taking your coat to put it away.
Once the two of you were alone, you had assured Satoru that you had only been joking, that you had not really taken his offer seriously.
"Why did you come?" He asked, taking a bite out of the appetizer he had ordered.
"I mean, who am I to turn down free food?"
He chuckled, "And what do you think so far? Worth your time?"
"Ask me after dessert and I'll give you an answer."
Dinner continued with ease, and after a few glasses of wine, you began to laugh at his jokes and make some of your own. You never thought that spending time with Satoru would make you so... happy? You weren't even sure how to describe it, the only thing you knew was that it wasn't horrible.
It was actually quite nice. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to get to know someone.
You talked about where you grew up, how you got your powers, and about your family. In return, he talked about his clan, how he had mastered his powers and about some of his years at Jujutsu High. You talked about little things, your hobbies, your favorite color and your favorite movies.
Talking with Satoru made you realize that you knew so little about him, even though you had known each other for almost a year. Sure, you knew some little details here and there, but you never went in depth, to you, Satoru was nothing more than a pain in the ass and a pawn of the Jujutsu society. Unfortunately, it seemed that almost everyone else thought the same.
That night, you realized that only a handful of people saw him as Satoru instead of Gojo, the greatest defender in the Jujutsu society. Perhaps that was why, despite his colorful personality, he seemed lonely. He seemed to be missing someone in his life who would see him as something other than the power he was born with. For whatever reason, this thought made your heart ache.
Throughout the night, you found yourself staring at him more than usual, noticing every little detail of his face. You noticed the way his hair sometimes fell over his eyes, the way his smile showed most of his teeth, the wrinkles that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he laughed. You also noticed the tenderness of his eyes, how every so often he looked at you in a way that would make your heart hammer against your chest or the way he would look at your lips every so often and you weren’t sure if he knew you noticed or he just didn’t care.
At the end of the night, you were having trouble deciding which dessert to get, not sure whether to get the cheesecake or the assorted mochi, so he told you to get both.
"I don't believe you, there's no way you don't have hobbies."
He laughed. "I really don't. I'm just too good at everything I do."
You rolled your eyes at him. "And you have the biggest ego I've ever seen in my life."
"Some would call it ego, I call it confidence. And well deserved."
You finished your last mochi, enjoying the last bit of strawberry flavor. As soon as you had taken the last bite, Satoru spoke eagerly.
"So, was this dinner good enough for you to tell me about your tattoo?"
You pretended to hesitate for a second, but you had to hand it to him, he went all out.
"I guess I have to tell you now that you spent so much money on it." You said with a sigh.
"Yes!" He exclaimed, pumping one of his fists in the air.
"Don't get too excited, it's nothing too scandalous." You pulled your cleavage to the side, exposing the left side of your chest.
His eyes locked on the drawing on your skin, heat burning inside you the longer he stared.
"It's a flower?"
You nodded. "It's a heliotrope."
"What does that mean?"
Your voice wavered, your chest tightening. You couldn't talk about it. You didn't want to. But you couldn't show him.
"That's a story for another time."
As much of an asshole as you thought Satoru was, you knew he wasn't an idiot, he understood that you didn't want to talk about it, so he seemed to let it go.
"Alright, that's fair. I got a lot of secrets tonight." He stood up and straightened his black suit. "I'm going to go to the bathroom real quick and then we can go, is that okay?"
"Sure, take your time."
You lost sight of him as he turned the corner and your mind wandered over everything that had happened tonight. You hadn't expected that Satoru would actually buy you dinner and in such a place, and even though you knew that this was just a peasant's change for him, it still surprised you.
You were also surprised by how... human he was. He had surprised you once when he told you about the children he was sponsoring and taking care of, since their parents were nowhere to be found. You didn't get the change to ask for their names, but you were sure you would get another one, you were sure Satoru wasn't done surprising you.
A man called your name and made you look up. 
Shiu Kong stood in front of you, his desvihebeled appearance intact, except for the way he had done his hair, a small attempt to soothe it.
"Kong." You said as you stood up. You shook his hand in greeting, wanting to get this conversation over with before Gojo returned. "What brings you here? Pleasure or business?"
"You know it's always business." He scoffed. His eyes took a double look at your dress before a small grin appeared on his face. "I would ask the same, but it looks like it's all pleasure for you."
"I guess you could call it that." You shrugged nonchalantly.
Neither of you said anything for a second. It wasn't like you were friends, you were barely a step above strangers and the only connection you had was gone. Fortunately, Shiu broke the silence.
"I never expected to see you here." He cleared his throat. "It's good to see you moved on."
Her heart fell to the ground, replaced by a painful sting.
"I... no, it's not like that." You tried to explain, your words stumbling.
Why did you try to justify yourself? This wasn't a date, was it?
"Hey, I'm not asking for explanations." He said. "I'm not judging you, it's been a while since anyone has heard from Toji."
Toji.
His name came back to haunt you as if it was the first day he didn't go home. The pain was excruciating, almost blinding you to the point of passing out. You hadn't heard his name in over a year, you didn't even dare to say it.
That was a date, right? What the hell were you doing going on a date with Satoru Gojo? How could you do that to Toji's memory? How could you be in a restaurant, laughing and enjoying the company of someone who wasn't his? A sorcerer's sorcerer?
How could you?
A man in a suit called out to Kong, motioning for him to come over to where he was.
"Anyway, I have to go now. Have a good life, kid."
You barely registered his handshake or when he walked away, all you could do was stand there and try not to collapse. The sudden realization hit you, you hadn’t thought of him throughout this whole night, only at the very end of it.
You had forgotten him.
A hand on your shoulder made you jump, worried blue eyes looking at you through the usual black glasses.
"Are you okay?" Satoru asked, worry lacing his words.
No.
How could you be okay when you forgot him? How could you even do that?
You didn't know what to do, the hole in your chest threatened to swallow you whole. It was what you deserved.
"I-I have to go." You said simply.
With quick movements, you grabbed your purse and made your way to the exit. You didn't care about getting your coat, not when your lungs couldn't breathe, each inhale bringing you closer to suffocation.
The heels you wore hindered your steps, almost causing you to trip twice. With frantic movements, you kicked them off, your bare feet touching the streets of Tokyo as you tried to run from the white-haired sorcerer who kept calling your name.
Calls and texts flooded your phone, finally forcing you to turn it off.
You avoided Satoru after that.
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"The wound will heal in no time, but I would still recommend you to take a few days off." Shoko said as she took off her gloves.
"I'll think about it." You said, no real promise behind your words.
Shoko looked at you, studying your face carefully. You knew what she saw, the dark circles, the carelessness of your appearance. But most of all, the pain behind your eyes. Maybe a while ago you would have been careful, trying to hide it so no one could see it, but at this point you didn't really care anymore.
As you rolled your shirt down to cover your torso and the large cut that had been made there, the door burst open, making both of you jump.
Satoru entered the room, taking strong and determined steps towards you, and within seconds he was standing next to you. He lifted your shirt just enough to get a glimpse of the damage the curse had caused, cold fingers poking at the newly healed skin.
It took you a few seconds to snap out of it, but eventually you were aware of how close he was and how exposed you felt.
"What the hell are you doing?" You barked, taking a step away from him and dropping your shirt.
"What the fuck am I doing?" He repeated, an incredulous tone in his words. "What the hell were you thinking? We were supposed to go on this mission together."
You got his text, along with several others telling you to wait for him before going in. Just like the ones you got before, this one was ignored.
"I don't remember asking for a partner."
He scoffed. “You can’t be serious right now? You almost fucking died and you’re mad at me for wanting to go with you.”
"I don't need your help!"
"You do when you've been trying to get yourself killed ever since I met you!" He shouted, his chest heaving with anger as he came closer to you.
"Satoru-" The doctor tried to intervene but Gojo stopped her.
"Stay out of this, Shoko."
"So what if I am?" You said and came closer to him.
"Do you know how fucking crazy this is?" His hands went to his hair and pulled it back in despair. "You've had a bad life? Tough shit, everyone here has been through tough times, you think that makes you special? That somehow that makes it okay for you to say fuck it and act so fucking stupid?"
His words burned deep inside you, you didn't know what he was talking about. He couldn't even imagine how it felt. He knew the effect of his words, but he kept going.
"You want to know why I still go on missions with you? Because of shit like this. Not only will you get yourself killed, but you might end up hurting someone else. Is that what you want? Don't you care about anything but your own selfishness?"
Your eyes began to sting, his face just inches from yours. Blue eyes were once more focused on you, once again searching in your soul. This time though, you could see something in them, a type of pain you didn’t understand. It almost made you back away.
Almost.
"My life is none of your damn business. Drop the 'savior' complex and stay the fuck out of my life." You pushed him away. "We're not friends, I can barely stand you, and I sure as hell don't need you pestering me with whatever this is. Stay. The. Fuck. Away."
His hands became fists and you thought he was going to grab you, maybe even shake you. Instead, he walked away, the only remnant of his presence being the sandalwood scent of his cologne. You stood there for a while, your chest heaving as you tried to fight back the tears.
"He's not wrong, you know?" Shoko spoke, her voice startling you. For a moment, you forgot that she was in the room. "It's pretty obvious that you're trying to get yourself killed."
You thought about arguing with her the same way you had with Gojo, only you didn't have the energy anymore, the weight of everything hit you all at once. You sat back in the chair where you had been examined, your head hanging from your shoulders.
"I don't know what to tell you, Shoko. Life sucks."
She laughed. "Yeah, I'll give you that much." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She grabbed one before holding her arm out to you. "You want one?"
"Do you have anything stronger?"
"Not today, sorry. Cigarette is the best I can offer."
You took one out and put it between your lips. Shoko lit yours before hers, the smoke filling your lungs immediately. The raw sensation in your throat almost made you forget your pain, a good side effect you more than welcomed.
“I know that Satoru can be a little too much but he means well.“ She paused, trying to find the right words. "We have seen this before with one of our classmates, not exactly the same, but close enough. He was Satoru's best friend."
You were surprised, not once had he ever mentioned it, although you hadn't exactly asked questions about his life, not until this dinner.
"Is he dead?" was the only thing you could think of to ask.
"Oh, no. He's very much alive, he's just..." She took a drag on the cigarette. "I don't think it's my place to tell you this, so let's just say that things have gone very badly for him. So you can understand why he's a little worried about you."
Neither of you said much after that, preferring to smoke in silence. Shoko's words made sense to you, there was always a hint of sadness when Satoru talked about his school days. Even when he smiled and told you about his pranks as a teenager, at the very end of his stories, his eyes would flash with pain, just for a second.
After a few minutes, you finished your cigarette, stubbing it out on the sole of your shoe. You thanked Shoko for her care and for the cigarette as you made your way to the door until she called your name.
"Satoru told me about your dinner and how you avoided him." Heat flushed your cheeks, slightly embarrassed that someone else was aware of your actions. "I like you and I don't know what's going on between you two and it's none of my business, but he's my friend." Her eyes hardened as she spoke. "So don't hurt him or I'll have to hurt you. Don't make me hurt you."
Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, the look in Shoko's tired eyes replaced by a certainty that sent shivers down your spine.
"I'll try not to."
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Rain in Tokyo always seemed to take you by surprise, especially because you always forgot to check the weather before going out. It was something you weren't used to, but every time you were forced to run in the rain, you told yourself you'd remember next time.
With a plastic take-out bag in your hand and your leather purse covering your hair, you ran like hell through the sea of umbrellas. You looked at your watch once you reached the stop sign, sighing at the time.
10:45 a.m.
"Shit." You muttered.
You could still make it, you tried to tell yourself. As soon as the light changed and you were able to cross the street, you took off. The purse you held over your head hindered your movements, so you had decided to just let it hang by your side as you rushed through the streets, making your way back to the school.
After a few instances of almost slipping and a few assholes passing you with their cars and making it their business to splash you with the water pooled next to the sidewalk, you finally arrived, the food still safe in your hand. You reached the building, wet marks leaving a trail behind you, and you checked the time.
10:59 a.m.
Yes.
Finally reaching the classroom you wanted, you stood outside. Voices could still be heard from the inside of the room, relief washing over you as you decided you wait outside. Only you felt the cold sensation of your wet clothes, making you shiver unconsciously.
The door flung open, a group of teenagers stopping in their tracks as soon as they saw you. They looked at you, confused not only to see you there, but at the state of your clothes.
"Uh-" one of them tried to speak, but you cut him off.
“Out. Now.”
With a quick pace, they left. You took a deep breath before venturing inside the room.
Satoru sat on top of a desk at the back of the room, eyes focused on his phone. He seemed to be typing a message, a mask of worry as he seemed to type and delete over and over again. You stayed by the door, words dying on your throat. What were you supposed to say? Should you just say hi and pretend everything is good even though you haven’t spoken in weeks? Or just go right to the point and apologize?
A ding from your phone brought back your attention, as well as Satoru’s. Your eyes widened, feeling as if you had gotten caught somewhere you weren’t supposed to be. You reached for your phone, glad that it was still dry enough to still function.
A small smile formed on your lips.
Greatest Pain in the Ass
Hey, 10:01 a.m.
You looked back at him, a light rose tinge spreading through his cheeks.
“Hi.” You said with a shy smile.
“Why are you soaking wet?” He questioned, eyes scanning your appearance.
“It’s raining outside.”
Satoru rolled his eyes. “You forgot to check the weather again?”
“Perhaps.” You answered, making your way to him. Once you reached the desk he was sitting on, you plopped down, opening the plastic bag you were carrying. You took out two honey lemon cold teas along with a couple of cheesecakes, two crepe rolls, and a package of sour candy.
“What’s this?” He asks as he grabs the tea.
You knew Satoru wasn’t going to be able to resist it, his sweet tooth always coming on top of everything.
“Take it as a peace offering.”
The sorcerer took off his jacket, handing it to you. You considered not taking it, but the shiver down your spine convinced you otherwise.
“Thanks.” You muttered.
In what seemed less than a minute, half the food is gone, the other half barely having a couple of bites. You sit in silence as you keep eating your cheesecake, occasionally sipping your tea.
“I’m sorry, by the way.” You broke the silence, the heaviness in your chest lifting as soon as you said the words.
“Did you just say sorry?” Asked Gojo, too incredulous to your annoyance. You nod, eying him. “You? You said I’m sorry? The rain must be toxic.” You rolled your eyes at him, and in return, he grabbed you by the shoulders, his face filled with fake concern. “It must already be in your brain! No, please don’t die!”
“Alright, asshole. I get it.” You pulled yourself apart, completely annoyed by his antics. You take a sip of your drink; you knew you deserved it. “I really am sorry, though. I’m sorry for leaving you at the restaurant and snapping at you back at Shoko’s.” You looked down to your hands, the feeling of shame creeping up over you. “I guess I’m sorry for being a dickhead in general to you, especially when you’ve been nice to me.”
“Why did you leave that day at the restaurant?”
“I—“ your words were caught on your throat. Should you lie? Tell the truth. Avoid the question? You looked at him, and even without being able to see his eyes, you knew what he was thinking.
Tell the truth.
You took a deep breath. “I used to be with someone, a man older than me, and he was... he was involved in a bad world. He left for one of his jobs, and one day he didn’t come back; he simply disappeared.” You stopped for a second, a knot on your throat almost breaking your voice. “I came here to find him; look for any clues that might tell me what happened to him, but I didn’t find anything, not a single word about him.” A tear took you by surprise when it fell from your left eye. You quickly wiped it, as if that could clear out the pain your heart felt. “The guy that used to be his handler was at the restaurant; we saw each other, and he—“ you scoffed. “He thought we were on a date and that he was glad I moved on. After that, I just couldn’t stay; I felt as if I was betraying his memory, betraying him, and everything was just too much for me. I felt like I was drowning the more I stayed there, so I did the best thing I could; I ran.”
Another tear made its way down your face, but you stopped caring. No matter how hard you tried, the pain of losing him would always be there.
After you finished your explanation, seconds went by without any response, something you attributed to him processing your story, but you weren’t sure. It had always surprised you how volatile Satoru was, sometimes easy to read as a first grade book, and sometimes, like now, where you might as well be reading a forgotten foreign language.
“Is that why you always put yourself at risk?” He finally spoke.
“Yes.” You answered, a tinge of shame crawling up over you. “I had a plan, you know? I was fine dying doing this. I needed it.”
“What changed?”
“You, I guess. It’s very difficult to die when someone keeps getting in the way.” You chuckled to yourself, Satoru, not finding any humor in your words. “I don’t know; one day I woke up and I realized that I didn’t want to die. I also realized I like being here.”
He looked at you, and this time his eyes carried a sadness too big to bear. “Are you still looking for him?” He asked, almost hesitantly.
“No, I know he’s dead.”
“How are you so sure?”
“I just feel it.” You shrugged. “I think I felt it the day he died; there was this painful and heavy sensation that got in my chest, and I couldn’t shake it off.”
“What would you do if you found the people that killed him?”
His question took you by surprise, as you didn’t expect it from him. You had thought about it a couple of times though, on long nights where you missed his presence and the scent was almost gone from his clothes. On nights you wished you had gone to Tokyo with him instead of staying back in Kyoto in your normal life. On nights you wished you could have his touch at least one more time.
“I’d kill them. And I’d make sure they would suffer.”
You both stayed in silence after that. A heaviness in the air had surrounded you, almost as if you had made things worse by telling him the truth. You knew that he wasn’t mad or disgusted by you, but there was a storm of thoughts going through his mind that made you wish you could read minds.
The silence was agonizing, and the longer it kept going, the more your chest would tighten. You wanted to break it any way you could, so you decided to ask a question that had been gnawing at you for weeks.
“Can I ask you something?”
He looked back at you, coming back to reality. “Shoot.”
“Was that supposed to be date?”
He smiled, almost sadly, as he fixed his hair. For some reason you got the feeling he had something more to say to you, but after careful deliberation he gave you a simple answer.
“Only if you want it to be.”
It was up to you.
God, why did he do that?
Was that what you wanted? Your mind was nowhere close to thinking about a relationship with someone else, let alone having a date. There were so many things wrong with you: dead boyfriend, inability to move on, active desire to die, walls so high up they could probably compete with the Great Wall of China. You had an attitude problem, a dangerous job, and you hated people getting too close to you. You were not looking to date.
But.
If you were going to have a date with anyone, the idea of it being Satoru didn’t bother you in the least.
Maybe you even liked it.
“I think I do.” You whispered.
You smiled at him.
He smiled too.
Satoru opened his mouth to say something, but a ding of his phone interrupted him. With annoyance, he unlocked his phone, his fingers typing up a quick response before putting the device back in his pocket.
“C’mon, lets go.” He said as he put together the trash from your snack and threw it in the can.
You downed the rest of your sweet tea, throwing the bottle to the same can and getting it in the first try. Satoru turned around and gave you a thumbs up. You caught up to him with a little stride.
"Where are we going?”
“To your place so you can get changed.”
Right. You were still soaking wet from the rain. Suddenly you were hyperaware of the squeaking sound your boots made and the smaller but still present trail of water you left on your way.
“After that, we have to go to Shinjuku.”
“Alright.”
His arm wrapped around your shoulders, and for the first time since you met him, you didn’t slap his arm away.
“Wait, I have another question.” You said.
“What is it?”
“What did you text me for?”
“…”
“You were going to apologize, weren’t you?”
“I was not.”
"Yes, you were! Man, I should’ve taken longer buying all this shit.”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore. You apologized first, so I win.”
“Oh, so it was competition now?”
Your voices filled the empty halls of the building, the bickering between you not stopping even when you were on good terms. This time there was something different though, and as laughter began erupting from both of you, you were sure there was no going back to how things were before today.
You liked that thought.
—————
Pink petals fell from the sky, swept away by the chill winds of April. Groups of people were scattered around Ueno Park, admiring the beatty of hundreds of cherry blossom trees along with hanging lanterns that decorated the main path to follow. Conversations, laughter, and music filled the air, and once you walked further into the park, the smell of food reached your nose.
Satorus hand pulled you towards one of the food stands, making both of you wait in line for some croquettes. You looked down at your joined hands, entwined fingers and all, and your heart skipped a beat.
Coming to the Cherry Blossom Festival had been an impromptu plan. Satoru had just texted you to dress up for the night in something you found comfortable enough to walk, and 20 minutes later he had knocked on your door, a blanket on his shoulder and a small basket on hand.
You liked that about him. Most of your dates had been improvised, to a certain extent. It was either him wanting to do something right in the moment or with him barely giving you time, just like when he asked you to pick you up the next day.
He brought spontaneity to your life in a way that made you happy. Satoru brought a lightness with him that you didn’t think a lot of people saw and how you wished everyone could. Maybe then they could see past the confident facade he always seemed to carry, and instead they would find the human, annoying as ever but with a heart the size of the world.
After getting your food, you went to find a place to sit that would allow you to have some privacy. Gojo guided you over a no trespassing sign, and when you expressed your concern, he simply smiled.
“Trust me, we’ll be fine.”
So you followed him until you found a good spot; there he extended the blanket while you put down the basket, making sure to take everything out. Petals fell all around you, and the darkness of the night enveloped you, except for the dim light of the moon and a couple of lanterns.
Everything was perfect.
Then his hand grabbed the side of your face, making you turn to him. He had taken out his glasses so the totality of his blue eyes were exposed. God, they were beautiful. His eyes went from your eyes to your lips, a quick but intense glance. His hand traveled to the back of your head, almost as if they were asking for permission to go forward. You grabbed his arm, your finger giving him a slight caress.
That was all he needed.
He kissed you. He kissed you in a way that made you forget to stop breathing. He kissed you in a way that you felt every single sensation around you, yet the only thing you could focus on was his lips on yours. He kissed you, and you wanted more. You wanted everything.
He kissed you with desperation, like he had wanted this for a long time.
He kissed you, and you tasted his mint toothpaste along with something else you couldn’t place.
You pulled apart to face worried blue eyes, looking for a sign that perhaps you didn’t want that. He thought he might’ve overstepped his boundaries, and you were going to run away again.
You kissed him again to erase his doubts, and you knew it.
He tasted like the future.
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Moans filled his bedroom. The squeaking of the bed pushing against the wall made you glad you were at his apartment instead of yours; if anyone had to deal with angry neighbors, let it be him. Satoru hadn’t even let you take off your clothes completely; instead, he had pushed down your underwear and lifted up your skirt, your underwear still hanging from one of your ankles.
Your face was facing a pillow, but you had heard him pull his pants desperately. He was big; he had warned you, but once the tip of his cock had tried to breach your entrance, your confidence in taking him had severely dwindled. He knew what he was doing though, his hands traveling in front of you, finding your clit.
A gasp left your lips, the coldness of his hand surprising you. He drew small, precise circles on it; every time he would hit a certain angle, you could feel yourself getting wetter. He knew what he was doing.
“You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that.” He whispered in your ear.
Electricity traveled all over your body, the anticipation of him finally being inside you driving you crazy.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You panted, grinding all over his fingers.
You felt his hand smacking your ass. Hard.
He pulled your hair back, your head lifting from the pillow. “Don’t act dumb with me, princess.”
His lips found the right place on your neck, and the sensation of him sucking on it made your knees weak.
“You know this is my favorite skirt.”
Smack.
His fingers never gave you a rest; the longer they kept going, the more the pressure built inside you. Your skin felt on fire; every kiss, every caress, and every smack made you feel like you could almost cum. Satoru had a way of overwhelming your senses; you sometimes wondered if it was a side effect from his six eyes.
He went faster, fingers using your own moisture to slide all over your bundle of nerves. You were so close, your moans getting louder and louder. You wanted it. No, you needed it. You need it like a thirsty man needs water.
“Please.” You begged.
“Please what, princess.”
“D-don’t stop, I’m so close.” You breathed.
So, so close, the coil inside you tightening, ready to snap.
He stopped.
“What the f—“ Your whine was cut short by his cock sliding inside of you.
He did it all at once, not giving you time to adjust. God, he was huge. With one sharp thrust, he was completely inside. You felt a little pain, but the overwhelming amount of pleasure you felt washed it away to the back of your mind when he started thrusting.
“Is that what you wanted?” He asked, his voice gruff as he digged his fingers on your hips.
Smack.
“Answer me, you little slut. You wanted my cock so bad?”
“Y-yes!” You were barely able to say.
Smack.
“You thought you could tease me all night.”
Smack.
“Grind your ass against me.”
Smack.
“Your fucking hand was under my pants while we were in that meeting. You thought that was fucking funny?”
Smack. Smack. Smack.
“Fuck! No!”
His pace was relentless and punishing. He seemed like a wild animal who had just caught his prey. His thrust was too much; you found yourself pulling away from him, but strong hands pushed you back to him.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He growled. “You wanted it so bad, now you have to take it.” A hand pressed your head against the bed, and you felt his left leg hoping on the bed.
You didn’t think he could reach deeper inside you. Once again, you were proven wrong. You couldn’t last longer, not when you felt the tip of his cock almost hitting against your cervix. Your walls tightened around him, causing him to hiss in pleasure.
“God, this pussy is perfect.”
He buried himself again and again and again until tears rolled down your eyes. He knew you were close.
“You’re going to come all over this cock, princess?”
A pathetic mumble resembling a ‘yes’ escaped your lips. That gave him the signal he needed.
This time his rhythm never stopped; consistent hard, deep, and quick thrusts punished your pussy over and over again. His grip on your ass tightened too; you were sure you would have marks on your skin tomorrow morning. He kept going, faster and faster; you heard moans that left his lips, and you were sure he was also close.
“Come on, baby, come all over this cock.”
That was all you needed to come undone.
He kept going for a couple of thrusts, rhythm gone as the desperation for chasing his high became bigger and bigger. His hands grabbed the sides of your hips, using them to bounce all over his cock. It was almost as if you were his own toy.
He came no long after that.
Both lay in bed, sweat covering your forehead and back as you gasped for air. Satoru was the first to stand up, grabbing a towel from the bathroom to clean himself. You were too tired to move, so the sorcerer took it upon himself to clean you himself. The cloth felt weird against the raw skin of your pussy but the carefulness of his touch made it better.
The towel flew across the room, landing in an unknown location. After picking up the now crumpled-up sheet, he covered both of you with it, his arms bringing you to his chest. The bluest eyes in the world looked at you, admiring every inch of your face as his hand caressed it.
You took the lead this time, reaching to him for a kiss. Your lips touched his, and his lips parted slightly, allowing you to deepen the kiss, his hands burying themselves in your scalp, pushing you in as if the closeness that you had wasn’t enough.
For the first time in a long time, you were happy at night; your heart didn’t ache as you fell asleep in the warmth of his arms.
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“God, why the fuck did I listen to you?” You mumbled, dangerously close to the edge of the building.
Tokyo's city lights shone below your feet, the never-ending life of its streets still buzzing no matter how dark the sky was. The altitude you were in made the wind strong enough that you felt you were going to be swept away by it. The jacket you had brought was no match for the wind, your hands clenched on the material as if that would warm you more.
“Because it’s going to be fun.” Satoru said before kissing your cheek.
“Not if I freeze to death.”
Satoru stood next to you, tall, powerful, and beautiful, with his eyes free from the typical dark glasses. Even as you were at the edge of the top of a twenty-nine-story building, he seemed so nonchalant it couldn’t help but annoy you.
How could a man so annoying be so perfect?
How were you so lucky to have found two perfect men in your lifetime?
“You were the one that wanted to try this.” He laughed, a big smile on his face.
“Whatever, let’s just do it.”
His hand extended towards you, waiting for you to grab him back. Your hand went halfway before the corner of your eye caught how tall the building actually was. You had refused to look down for this very reason, but you couldn’t do anything now; your eyes were locked in.
What the fuck were you doing?
Fear settled in the pit of your stomach along with regret, as Satoru was right; you were the one that said you wanted to see how his teleporting worked. When you had asked him what his favorite part of it was, he answered free falling from a building and teleporting back to where he had started. And now, the longer you looked, the dizzier you felt.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I can’t do it. This is fucking insane.” The volume of your voice was an octave higher, but you couldn’t control it.
You began backing away until hands on your face stopped you.
“Hey, it’s ok.” He said calmly. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can just go back and do something else.” He waited a moment, trying to see if you would back away, but you didn’t. “If you want to do it, though, you have to trust me; trust that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
He backed away, moving close to the edge. His hand reached out to you once more.
“Do you trust me?”
Your hand finally took his, trembling legs making their way to him.
You took a deep breath. You trusted him, even when your senses told you it was a bad idea. You trusted him even when your survival instinct fought hard to push you away from the edge.
You trusted him.
Wholeheartedly.
Fully.
Unconditionally.
You both jumped.
The rational part of your mind told you it had happened in a matter of seconds; it couldn’t have been more than four, considering the height of the building and the fact that you didn’t splatter all over the floor. For the other part of your mind, though, it was endless. You fell, and you fell, and you couldn’t stop falling; the floor was close but never close enough.
The scream that left your lungs made your throat ache, your chest rumbling as the scream kept coming and coming. Your heart wasn’t in your chest anymore; you were sure it had already exploded the moment your feet left the building. You were even surprised you were still breathing; your lungs didn’t seem to get enough air in them. You had heard how people that fall from skyscrapers die from heart attacks rather than the fall itself. Now you could see that happening; the longer you thought about it, the more you felt close to death. That was until you felt pressure on your hand. Satoru’s hand never left yours, even when you tried to pull your arms to your face, trying to cover your eyes from the ever-closing floor.
One moment you were in the air, and next you were back at the edge of the building.
Your legs failed, almost making you drop to the ground, but his arms were there to keep you steady. Miraculously, you still had a living heart, as you felt it’s beating on your ears every time. Gojo’s worried face gained your attention, his eyes scanning you as his lips moved, but his words never reached your ears. Only then did you finally process what had happened.
You had jumped from a building, and you had teleported back.
You were still alive.
The fear was quickly replaced by blinding excitement. The adrenaline coursing through your veins felt like hot liquid fire, this time the trembling of your body caused by it. The sudden feeling that you could conquer the world overcame you; you wanted to do it again and again and again so you could feel like this forever.
A laughter came out of you, which initially had scared Satoru, but the more you laughed, the more he was sure you were ok.
“I can’t believe I just did that.” You said as Satoru’s hands helped you stand up.
“I told you it was awesome.” He laughed along with you.
You jumped to his arms, pulling him in for a kiss. Your hands traveled all over his hair, pulling it as you deepened the kiss. His hands brought you up, settling on your ass once your legs wrapped around his waist. Something in him was desperate for your touch, his hands holding you in place as both of you kept exploring each other.
You pulled away from him, excited to tell him you wanted to try it again, but he interrupted you.
“Let’s do it aga—“
“I love you.”
Your heart stopped this time.
You knew he had loved you for a long time. Every moment you spent together you could see it. His love was in everything he did. It was in the way he made you laugh, in the way he would make sure you’d have enough to eat, in the way he would buy your favorite snacks on the way to your apartment, on the way he would offer to do the dishes so you could go take a shower, on the way he would caress your face, his eyes screaming the words he didn’t dare to say. His love was everywhere.
A long time ago you had never thought you would love someone the way you had loved Toji, and in a way you were right. Loving Toji had been intense, warm, and comfortable; for a man so closed up to love, he had surprisingly shown you so much of it, even if it had taken some time for it. You had loved Toji first, and you had given him your unconditional love even before he knew your feelings. Loving Satoru was different; it was quick and unexpected, but most importantly, it made you feel alive. You had gotten used to the shell of yourself you presented to the world, something you had gotten comfortable with, but Satoru had managed to break it with his bubbly, eccentric persona. He had teared the walls you had built, little by little chirping them apart, until your heart could beat for someone again. There was no comparison between Toji and Satoru; they both had your heart forever, just in different ways.
He loved you even when you felt like you didn’t deserve it.
So how could you not love him back?
“I love you too.”
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The smell of pancakes filled Satoru’s apartment, along with the sound of his tinkering around the kitchen. You stretched yourself along his bed, your skin welling the coolness of the expensive sheets he had. Your body was sore; the toll of yesterday’s curse, along with your nighttime activities with Satoru, had left you drained.
You stood up, using one of his shirts to cover up. The sight that welcomed you once you reached the kitchen made you laugh. Pans and food were scattered everywhere as the sorcerer went back and forth from the pans to the freshly made orange juice he was trying to make.
“Who would’ve thought pancakes and orange juice would be your one true enemy?” You chuckled.
He turned around to face you, his hands carrying a bowl with what you assumed was pancake batter. A shy smile adorned his face, which managed to swell your heart with love.
“It’s not my fault the instructions on the recipe weren’t clear; how was I supposed to know you had to grease the pan with butter?”
“I’m pretty sure every recipe says so; even then, it’s basic knowledge.”
You walked closer to him, reaching out to him for a morning kiss, but he backed away.
"Don't; I have a raw egg all over me.”
“Now, how did you manage to do that?”
Satoru shrugged his shoulders, going back to his duty. You propped yourself on top of one of the kitchen stools, looking at the white hair sorcerer finish cooking the last of the pancakes.
“You need any help?”
“Nah, I’m almost done. I was trying to bring you breakfast to bed, but I was sabotaged.”
“Sure you were.”
After a few minutes of cooking, the last of the pancakes rested well on top of the mountain he had created. The orange juice was now in a clear crystal jar right in front of you. It would’ve been a nice scenery if it wasn’t for the mess that tainted the background. Satoru began throwing everything in the sink in a rushed manner, his hand reaching out to grab the kitchen towel.
You stood up from your seat, snatching the towel out of his hand.
“Why don’t you go take a shower while I clean this?” You offered as you thought it would be uncomfortable to eat covered in eggs, flour, and orange juice.
He shook his head. “No, I had this whole thing planned and—“
You interjected “And I’m very grateful that you did this, but I also want you to enjoy breakfast. Besides, it’s just going to be a little cleaning. I promise, as soon as you get out, I’ll stop cleaning.”
Satoru, as stubborn as he always was, was about to refuse your help, but to his dismay and your amusement, his hand landed unspilled batter that covered a part of the counter. You tried to control your laughter, which only made it more obvious, earning an eye roll from the sorcerer.
“Fine, but no more cleaning as soon as I get out of the shower.”
You lifted your right hand. “I solemnly swear.”
He left the room with quick steps, the sound of his discarding his clothes echoing from his bedroom. You put yourself in action, focusing on just cleaning the counters as it felt like a more important task than tackling the mountain of dishes; Satoru could take care of that.
You were almost done throwing all the trash that you had gathered in the can when a ringtone surprised you. Satoru’s phone had somehow ended behind the toaster, and surprisingly, it had survived being stainless with all the food flying around it. You wiped your hands quickly before grabbing it, Ijichi’s name flashing on the screen.
“Ijichi is calling you.” You yelled at him, sure that he would be able to hear you even in the shower.
“I’ll call him back later.” He yelled back.
You put it in the counter, letting the call go to voicemail. You were about to keep going with your duties when the phone rang again—another call from Ijichi. This ringing kept going for a little while until it went to voicemail once more, then the texts came, one after the other.
A sudden heaviness installed in your stomach; maybe it was something important; it had to be for him to be so insistent. You grabbed the phone in your hands, typing the four-digit password to unlock it. Another message popped up on his screen, and you clicked on it.
Ijichi
I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Gojo, but we have a situation. 9:37 am
I wouldn’t be so insistent if it wasn’t serious. 9:37 am
Please get back to me as soon as possible. 9:38 am
It’s about the Fushiguro kids. 9:38 am
Fushiguro kids.
Fushiguro.
You dropped the phone; it’s screen is cracking as it touches the ground. It couldn’t be them, could it? There was no way Satoru had anything to do with those kids. Why would he? You had never even told him Toji’s last name, none the less told him about his kid and stepkid. It couldn’t be, could it?
“What’s wrong?” His voice startled you, a concerned look on his face as you walked towards you.
You gather all the strength you have, unsure whether the words will actually come out of your mouth without getting stuck in your throat. You looked at the floor, thinking it would be the only way you would be able to talk.
“Who are the Fushiguro kids?” Your voice was barely audible, the straining in it impossible to miss. You looked back at him, hoping to find his usual smile or perhaps just a confused look on why you were acting like that.
You hoped for anything that would tell you it wasn’t the same Fushiguro family you were thinking about.
Instead, wide, panicked, blue eyes looked back at you.
“I—“
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out Satoru was thinking of an excuse—anything he could bullshit you to take away the anger that began simmering in you.
“Who the fuck are the Fushiguro kids?”
A heartbeat went by, then he answered.
“Megumi and Tsumiki.”
A scoff left your lips. Everything in the room was spinning, the beating of your heart pounding incessantly on your head. Millions of questions ran through your head, but you were unable to focus on one, each second passing you by and flooding you with emotions you weren’t sure how to process. Was this how it felt to be in his unlimited void?
“How do you know them?”
“Toji Fushiguro told me about Megumi.”
“Did you know who I was?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.
He hesitated, not wanting to reveal himself, but there was no point in it, not anymore.
“Yes.”
“What—? How did you—?”
There it was, the same sadness you would sometimes catch behind his eyes. You had never dared to ask about it, sure that he would come to tell you with time. You had guessed it had to be with Suguru; the things you had asked about him earning almost the same sad look of losing his best friend.
But this wasn’t a sadness about losing someone. It was a sadness knowing everything would end as soon as you knew the truth.
No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him.
He couldn’t be the one.
Not Satoru.
“No.” You backed away from him, his presence digging a hole in your chest. “No, no, no, no.”
“Please, let me explain.” His hand tried to reach you but you slapped it away.
“What the fuck are you going to explain?” You screamed, the last syllables of your sentence breaking as tears pooled in your eyes. “That you fucking killed—“ you couldn’t even say the words; they tasted like vile rising from your esophagus.
“I’m sorry.”
Rage.
Pure, blinding rage.
Your senses, your body, your thoughts—everything was swarmed by rage. Your hand, almost like in automatic motion, punched the sorcerer square in the face, landing him across the room. His body left a dent in the wall; the few frames he had hanging were now broken apart, all scattered over the floor.
Before you could think about it, your hand had already reached out to your bag, taking out the knife Toji had given you. The shock from your hit had passed, and now Satoru stood up, a small cut on his cheek. You sensed him before he had even teleported, the sudden cursed energy surge behind you alerting you of his moves. You grabbed him by his throat, slamming him back down to the floor.
After spending time, you had learned to read every part of Satoru that involved his fighting techniques along with the signature of his cursed energy. You had learned everything that was to learn about the greatest sorcerer in the world, and now you were going to use it to finish him, even if you died.
You grabbed your knife, your cursed energy amplifying the one the object already owned, and you aimed it at his heart. You wanted him to feel the same pain he had caused you when he killed him, the pain he caused when he had lied to you. You were going to carve his heart out, and maybe then he could understand a fraction of what you were feeling.
His teleportation worked again, this time placing himself further away from you in the room. The tip of your knife crashed against the wood panels, leaving a dent in them.
“Please, stop.” He pleaded, the sorrow in his voice making your heartache ten times worse.
You didn’t stop; you couldn’t allow yourself to stop.
Your body smashed against his, knocking him down against the bed. Slash after slash he dodged, your knife unable to pierce his skin. In between movements, he kept pleading with you, the desperation in his voice increasing with each attempt.
Somewhere along the fight you saw an opportunity at his feet. You weren’t sure if it had been on purpose or maybe it was just a coincidence his guard wasn’t as high as you had expected, but you seized the moment, your arm managing to pin him against a wall.
The knife you held shoots up straight to his neck, the blade making contact with his skin. You were ready to slash a straight line along it, but the back of your mind told you something was wrong.
You could touch him. All along the fight, you had been able to touch him. The cut he had from your punch still bled slightly, another piece of evidence of your proximity to him. Every kick, every punch, and every tackle had made direct impact with his body.
Not once during the fight had he activated his infinity.
The blade dug on his skin, and a faint drop of blood trailed down his neck.
“Why the fuck aren’t you using your infinity? I could fucking kill you.” You screamed in his face, digging your knife deeper into his skin. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”
A despairing smile showed on his face.
“Because I love you.”
Hot, salty tears cascaded along your face, the bridge of anger finally snapping as the sorrow took over everything you could feel. You couldn’t stop them; the more you tried to contain them, the bigger the hole in your chest grew.
He loved you, and you believed him.
You loved him back, and that love made you want to die. You couldn’t kill him no matter how much you pretended you wanted to; you knew you couldn’t survive losing someone that you loved again.
No matter how much you hated him at the same time.
You stood up, ready to grab your pants and bolt through the door. His hand stopped you, steading you in place.
“Please, don’t leave.” His begged, tears matching yours. “Please don’t leave me.”
Two bleeding hearts pleaded for each other that morning; one begged for forgiveness while the other begged to be put out of its misery. Both of them were entwined by the love they had for each other, along with the hurt they caused.
Yours was the only one that got what it wanted.
“Never contact me again. I’ll kill you if you do.”
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amirasainz · 10 hours ago
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Hey could you maybe write sister leclerc in Mexico and Alex taking her to her favorite places
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 💕
One day in Mexico
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The sun was warm as it kissed the cobblestone streets of Mexico City, and Alexandra took a deep breath, soaking in the vibrant energy that surrounded her. She glanced over at Yn, who was looking around with wide eyes, her face full of excitement and curiosity. Alexandra couldn’t help but smile—she’d been waiting for this moment ever since she and Charles had invited Yn to join them for the Mexico GP.
"Ready, Yn?" Alexandra asked, nudging her lightly.
"Yes!" Yn's voice bubbled with excitement, her eyes glimmering. "Where are we going first?"
"First stop: the markets," Alexandra said, winking. "I want to show you the real Mexico City."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As they walked through the buzzing local market, Alexandra took the lead, navigating the stalls packed with colorful textiles, handmade jewelry, and fresh produce. Yn gasped, stopping to look at a stall filled with woven blankets in bright reds, blues, and yellows.
"This is amazing, Alex! It’s so vibrant here," Yn said, eyes wide as she took in the colors and scents surrounding her.
Alexandra chuckled, noticing how Yn was captivated by everything she saw. "I told you! The markets here are just incredible. And trust me, it’s even better when you try the food." She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Want to try some authentic street tacos?"
Yn grinned. "Lead the way!"
They made their way to a small taco stand, where the delicious aroma of fresh tortillas filled the air. Alexandra ordered two tacos each, explaining the toppings and sauces to Yn, who eagerly took her first bite.
"Oh my God, Alex," Yn said, her eyes widening with delight as she savored the flavors. "This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted!"
Alexandra laughed. "Welcome to Mexico, where the food is life-changing." As Yn continued eating, Alexandra snapped a candid photo of her, capturing her joy. Yn didn’t notice, too absorbed in her taco.
After they finished their food, Alexandra took Yn to a jewelry stall. Yn was drawn to a delicate silver bracelet with tiny turquoise stones embedded in it.
"Try it on," Alexandra encouraged, reaching out to help Yn clasp it around her wrist.
Yn looked down, admiring it with a shy smile. "It’s so beautiful. I think Charles would love to see this."
"Oh, don’t worry," Alexandra said, smirking as she snapped another photo of Yn admiring the bracelet. "I’m making sure he gets all the highlights from today."
Yn blushed, laughing. "Are you secretly photographing me, Alex?"
"Maybe." Alexandra winked. "Can’t help it—you look too cute."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Their next stop was the Frida Kahlo Museum. As they stepped inside, Yn’s eyes sparkled with wonder. She walked slowly, taking in the vibrant colors and personal artifacts that filled Frida’s old home. Alexandra watched her closely, pleased to see Yn so enchanted.
“Frida was such an icon,” Alexandra whispered as they stood before one of her famous self-portraits. “She lived fiercely, even when things got tough.”
Yn nodded, looking thoughtful. “I think I get it now. She put so much of herself into her work… It’s like she was sharing her soul.”
Alexandra put a hand on Yn's shoulder, smiling softly. “Exactly. Just like you—you have that same spirit, Yn.”
Yn blushed, her cheeks a soft pink. “Thanks, Alex. That really means a lot.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that afternoon, they wandered over to a small plaza filled with mariachi music and laughter. Yn was taking it all in, her face lit up with delight as she watched couples dancing and vendors selling colorful souvenirs. Alexandra was trying to snap another picture of her when a young man approached them, clearly intrigued by Yn.
“Hola, señorita,” he said smoothly, giving Yn a charming smile. “You look as beautiful as a sunset in the Mexican sky. Are you visiting?”
Yn’s face turned an even deeper shade of pink, and she stammered, “Uh, yes… Just for a few days.”
Alexandra stepped back, hiding a grin as she watched Yn struggle to respond to the young man’s flirtation. She crossed her arms, staying close but allowing Yn to have the moment.
“You must let me show you around then,” the young man continued, his smile never wavering. “There’s so much to see, and someone like you deserves the best tour.”
Yn bit her lip, looking flustered but flattered. “Oh, thank you. That’s… very kind of you.”
Alexandra finally stepped forward, placing a gentle but protective hand on Yn’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt,” she said, giving the young man a polite smile, “but we’ve got a busy day ahead of us. Maybe some other time?”
The young man nodded, looking slightly disappointed but respectful. “Of course. Enjoy your visit, señorita.”
Yn turned to Alexandra as soon as he walked away, her face still red. “Alex! I had no idea what to say! I’ve never been flirted with like that.”
Alexandra burst out laughing, pulling Yn into a quick hug. “You handled it well! But don’t worry—I had your back the whole time.” She pulled out her phone, flashing Yn a series of photos. “Look at you, totally flustered and adorable!”
Yn gasped. “You took pictures of that?!”
“Of course!” Alexandra grinned. “I have to send these to Charles. He’ll love them.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As the day wound down, they found a quiet café and sat down to enjoy some churros and hot chocolate. Yn sighed, looking out over the city with a contented smile.
“Today was incredible, Alex. Thank you so much,” she said, reaching over to squeeze Alexandra’s hand. “I feel like I got to see the real Mexico.”
“Anything for you, Yn,” Alexandra replied softly, squeezing her hand back. “We're sisters now, and I’ll always look out for you.” She took one last photo of Yn, who was smiling as the warm sunset cast a golden glow on her face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That evening, back at the hotel, Alexandra and Yn found Charles in the lobby, waiting for them with an eager smile. He stood up, pulling Yn into a hug.
“Did you have a good day with Alex?” he asked, his eyes soft with affection.
“The best day,” Yn replied, smiling up at him.
Alexandra beamed, pulling out her phone. “You have no idea, Charles. I took so many photos of your sister today—look.” She handed him the phone, scrolling through the images of Yn laughing, eating, admiring the bracelet, and even looking flustered after the guy flirted with her.
Charles looked up, an amused smile playing on his lips. “You really captured everything.”
“Oh, yes,” Alexandra said proudly, leaning her head on Yn’s shoulder. “Yn’s my baby now too.”
Yn laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re embarrassing me!”
Charles chuckled but paused when he saw the picture of the guy talking to Yn. “Wait…who’s that?”
Yn and Alexandra exchanged a glance, both trying to stifle their laughter.
“Oh, that’s just a guy who flirted with Yn,” Alexandra said casually, unable to hide her amusement.
Charles’s eyes widened, his face shifting into a look of pure, older-brother protectiveness. “What?! Someone flirted with you?!”
Yn giggled, nudging him playfully. “Relax, Charles! Alexandra was there the whole time.”
Alexandra smirked, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm. “I kept her safe, don’t worry.”
Charles shook his head, exasperated but laughing as he pulled them both into a hug. “You two are going to drive me crazy.”
Yn looked at Alexandra, both of them grinning, as Charles sighed dramatically.
“Totally worth it, though,” Alexandra whispered, giving Yn a wink.
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