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#and everyone is eating it up like it’s so sick
pucksandpower · 15 hours
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Worlds Apart
Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader
Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you
Warnings: Jos Verstappen
Based on a request by @butterflyexe
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The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.
“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”
You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.
You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”
“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”
“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”
“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”
The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”
“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”
“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.
Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”
Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”
The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”
“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”
A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.
Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”
Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”
Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”
“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.
Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”
“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”
You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”
His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”
You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”
He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”
“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”
A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”
You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”
“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”
Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”
Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”
You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”
“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”
You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.
“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.
You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”
“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”
“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.
It’s going to be okay.
He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.
Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.
Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.
***
Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.
“Max! A word, if you please.”
He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”
Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”
Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”
“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”
“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”
Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.
“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”
“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”
Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”
It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.
“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”
Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”
Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”
He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”
Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.
“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.
Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.
You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.
The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️
He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?
After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.
After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.
“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”
“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”
Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”
So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.
“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”
Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”
“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”
Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.
“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”
Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”
“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”
“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”
As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.
When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”
“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”
Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”
“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”
“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”
You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”
He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”
“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”
“Sweet dreams, liefje.”
Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.
Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.
So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.
As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.
Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.
***
You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.
For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.
Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.
Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.
Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.
That’s no ordinary car.
That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.
Just like-
“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...
“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.
His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.
He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.
“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.
Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.
“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”
“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.
“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.
A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.
“Who is that guy?”
“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”
“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”
The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.
“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”
Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.
“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”
He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.
“You’re impossible!”
“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.
This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.
But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.
Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.
“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”
There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.
“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.
“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.
“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”
“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.
“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”
You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.
“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”
You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.
“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.
“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”
There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.
But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.
“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”
Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.
“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”
A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.
“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.
Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.
“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”
And neither of you can wait.
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periluvr · 2 days
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i love you - billie eilish
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part2 of ‘think of me once in a while, take care’ !!!
gojo x female reader, mention of death, mention of decapitation, mention of gun
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It was now 11pm, the time of the meeting. You were tied up somewhere in Shibuya's big shopping mall, gun to your head the whole time. You heard someone talking, or rather shouting, and recognized the voice of your "boyfriend": Gojo Satoru. You hadn't known Satoru for very long, and he wasn't necessarily someone who got angry very quickly, he never even got angry, but today was the first time you'd seen him in this state of rage. You hoped that Satoru would be able to save you.
"Where is she?" said Gojo — "where is my girl?!"
Gojo was beside himself with rage, blaming himself for everything, knowing full well that to have a girlfriend while being the strongest was to go straight to hell. He couldn't afford to lose everything now, not like this.
In a few minutes, Gojo wiped out all the plagues that stood in his way, he had to find you, and as quickly as possible, it was eating him up inside not knowing where you were, it was making him sick.
While waiting for him, you were still tied up, your hands and feet bound, a gun to your head or a knife to your throat, depending on who was watching you. Blood trickled down your wrists and feet as you struggled, burning yourself little by little. The tip of the knife slowly sank into the thin skin of your neck, creating a slight cut. Just swallowing began to hurt more and more. You were suffocating, sweating, you couldn't take it anymore, but you were trying to hold on until Gojo arrived.
A few minutes later, you finally saw Gojo in front of you, tears streaming down your cheeks, at last he was here. The person you'd loved most recently was here to save you. You couldn't speak because of the scotch tape over your mouth. Gojo's eyes, usually bright blue, were now only black, black with anger. Seeing you like that drove him mad. His fists had turned white from clenching them so hard, the blood couldn't even get through. He was out of breath, he couldn't take it anymore, all he wanted to do was collapse in your arms and promise you it wouldn't happen again. Unfortunately, he had to keep a straight face in front of you and everyone else here.
"I'm asking you to fight to the death, Gojo Satoru. It's obvious that if you don't accept it, she dies," said the bounty hunter.
"And it's obvious that I'm going to accept it, since I'm going to win," says Gojo confidently, after all, who had he ever lost to before?
"You've got five minutes to shoot me, if the fight goes on in five minutes, she's dead."
"Five minutes is too much, believe me," replied Gojo.
The fight began, and Gojo was alone against three bounty hunters and exorcists. Despite the smug look he was giving himself, you knew that he couldn't take it anymore, and you could see it in his eyes.
The fight continued, the blows becoming more and more violent and the after-effects as well, you taking a few blows along the way given the power of some of them. You were screaming, begging Satoru to stop, even if it meant letting you die, you couldn't stand seeing him give himself body and soul to you, just to save you, it wasn't fair, he didn't deserve that. The tape around your mouth finally came off from all the drool you'd accumulated while screaming.
tic-tac
With just two minutes to go, only one of them remained, the toughest. Gojo was physically and mentally at the end of his rope, and it was torture to watch. The knots in your ankles and wrists began to unravel with all your agitation. Gradually, you regained movement. Satoru switched between his red sort, then the blue one, and in between, he used the reverse cursed technique, all at immeasurable speed. He was impressive, you'd never seen him from that angle, but despite everything, you prayed it would be the last time.
tic-tac
One minute, one minute to die, that's the outcome of the fight? it's impossible. Your heart began to beat faster and harder, the drops of sweat bigger and bigger. You felt as if at any moment you might faint. Gojo was at the end of his rope, and so was the bounty hunter in front of him; Gojo had underestimated him. It was all over.
tic-tac
Thirty seconds, you saw the countdown beside you, your eyes switching between fight, countdown, fight, countdown. Time passed so quickly but so slowly at the same time. The ropes came undone more and more. You were going to die, that was obvious, and you hadn't even told Satoru yet that you'd fallen in love with him.
tic-tac
You were doomed either way, and it wasn't anyone's fault, least of all Gojo.
tic-
The last second, you couldn't let yourself die, Gojo was killing himself in front of your eyes, for you. You saw the gun go to your temple, you saw Gojo in the outer corner of your eyes make a move to try to protect you, the bounty hunter managed to stop him.
"YN!" he shouted at the top of his voice. Time passed in slow motion. Gojo was thrown to the ground by the bounty hunter, it was the end. You tried one last time to move, but despite the pain and burns caused by the ropes, you managed to move completely, and the ropes fell away. You stood up and started running towards Gojo, your feet slipping on the ropes.
A first shot, missed. You had just escaped death for the first time.
"Satoru!" you screamed. Satoru realized that you hadn't died from the first shot, but he knew the next one was coming soon.
With the second shot, Satoru had just enough time to take you in his arms and press you against the ground to protect you. You saw Satoru's face contort in pain, and he groaned.
"Satoru, don't tell me you've been shot!" you asked, afraid of what might happen next.
"It's nothing, I've been through worse," he said, laughing lightly as he held the gaping wound that had just been made between his right ribs.
You took Gojo's face in both hands. You looked him straight in the eye, his gaze softening.
"What's the matter, are you hurt?" he asked, completely worried.
"I love you, I'm in love with you Satoru".
Time stopped for a moment, you were locked in his gaze and he in yours. He continued to look at you as if you were all he had left, as if he could burn the world for you. With his right hand, he hugged you tightly, while the other still held his wound.
"I know that - he whispered in your ear - but don't talk as if one of us will die, it won't happen » — He stood up before resuming the fight. All that remained was for you to avoid the shots, but now that you were away from the combat zone, Gojo could afford to go in much harder, and so he did. He used his purple hollow first against the bounty hunter, then a second time against the one who was trying to shoot you. He could barely stand, but it was all over.
He looked at the last two enemies on the ground one last time, "It was fun fighting you guys, but if you don't mind, I've got to get home to my girl now," he said, before ripping the men's heads off and throwing them to the ground.
You looked at Satoru, completely horrified by what had just happened, and ran to him, jumping into his arms. Gojo returned the hug immediately, his right hand stroking your hair and his left holding you by the waist. His head in the hollow of your neck. You cried your eyes out. You never wanted to let go, ever.
"I love you so much, I love you so hard yn it’s making me sick," Satoru said into the hollow of your neck. He'd just completely let his guard down in front of you. "I'm exhausted, I want us to go home." he continued, not wanting to let go of you.
"Let's go home then" you replied as you kissed him, your right hand caressing his cheek.
"I'll probably drop in on Shoko first if you don't mind" he said, laughing softly.
"That was the plan!" you teased back.
In spite of his great size, you helped him walk with his arm over your shoulders. He looked at you, smiled stupidly and laughed. "hey, what's so funny?" you asked — "do you really think you're helping me walk?" — "I'm doing what I can!" — "I know, thank you for that" he replied with a smile on his lips, a tender smile like you'd never seen before. He kissed your forehead and you left the mall once and for all.
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happy with the way it turned out :) maybe i’ll do a angst end because this is what i wanted to do in the beginning! tell me if you think it’s a good idea
english isn’t my first language and i use deepl sometimes, tell me if there is anything wrong!
@megumisthirdog, @emilyywhyy hehe !!!
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shadowcitrine · 2 days
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Sunbathing
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Before the outbreak there's a girl who keeps teasing Daryl.
Daryl's pov. Angry Daryl. Daryl and named OC. Kind of dirty.
18+ You're responsible for the content you consume.
First post nerves.
Of course she was here! She was everywhere he fuckin’ went. It was like she knew when he needed space and had some sick twisted need to devour what little time he carved out for himself. That stupid fuckin’ Mather's girly is just laying out by the river bank, arms beneath her head like she owns the whole god damned river and the sun is shining down on her over the tree tops like it agrees with her.
Picking up the fishing pole, Daryl's fist tightened around it, his face screwing up in anger makin’ his whole head hurt twice as much. He lets everyone walk all over him, but not anymore, not today. Especially not stupid Mercy who parades around in her dumb tiny shorts and ugly cut off shirts.
Taking the pole over to a shady spot he throws himself down, landing with a grunt. Digging through the little box of feathers he keeps in a tin till he finds a few small ones to tie on. If Mercy is watching him behind those dark glasses of hers he can't tell, not that he was lookin’ anyway. Not that he cares.
He cast the line, sticking the pole in the ground to light a cigarette and wait. She hasn't said a word and it's so unlike her that he thinks she has to be asleep. It's the only time she ain't asking him a million questions or trying to order him around. He stamps out the first butt and lights another. Takes him nearly all of the second one before he can hear the water trickling by beyond the anger pounding around in his head. Takes him even longer to realize his line has too much slack. The reel clicks quietly, a familiar lullaby that usually helps empty his head but not this time, not today.
Mercy still ain't talking. It's the longest they've ever been around each other without her at least sayin’ hi and now it's bothering him. He came out here for peace and now her silence is eating him alive. Not like bein’ around her does him any good. Never has, not even when they were kids. Just to try and take his mind off of her he starts reeling in the line, puffing on the smoke between his teeth but the harder he tries not to think about her the more he does.
That girl sighs and it draws his attention away from his half hearted attempt at fishing. She's still just layin’ there, knees now bent. Her shorts are digging into the upper parts of her thighs making little dips there that make his fingers itch to touch. She's just some annoying girl that he doesn't even like.
Then she moves again, rolling to her knees in the dirt, dead grass clinging to her back she's digging in a small cooler. Picking out some red white and blue ice pop she stuffs the wrapper inside before flopping back down on the ground. Still, not a single word out of her. She sick? High?
The more he looks at her painting her lips with the cherry end of the ice cream the more he's bothered by her silence because he can't help but see something else in his head. The way her tongue swipes across her bottom lip collecting the sticky sweetness there makes him tense in a way he shouldn't be around her but can't seem to help.
“Why ain't you sayin’ nothin’?” He asks. It just sort of bubbled up.
She takes her time answering sucking on the end of it making a soft lewd noise that makes his dick twitch. “Thought I talked too much Dixon?” there isn't even any anger in it. She's acting like she isn't even bothered by him being there watching her suck half the ice cream in to her mouth like she suckin’ cock.
“You do.” He drops the spent butt on the ground, his fishing pole forgotten.
She hums again around her snack, lips making a slurping noise around it like they do on titty channels that come on late at night. “Want me to ask you how you got that shiner?” She turns her head to look at him and if she notices him move his leg to hide his half chub she doesn't say.
Mercy runs a tongue along the underside of it catching drops of it before it can land on her tits and he's silently hoping she misses just one. Then his dick is coming alive thinking of her swearing the melted sugar water across them, swirling the red end over a nipple until it's rock hard. He don't need to be thinking about her like that but he can't look away.
She sits up holding in her mouth, cheeks hollowing around it and he swears she's doing it on purpose. No, she knows what she's doing and this–this tease is secretly eating up the attention. Mercy grabs the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She isn't wearing a bra or even one of her bright colored biking tops, no, she isn't wearing anything at all now ‘cept them frayed shorts of hers.
“Put your shirt back on Mercy!”
She lickin on the end for a moment, watching him watch her. He can't not think about how her ice cream is smaller than his dick. “Stop actin’ all mad.” She drops her head back.
Stop actin’ mad? Stop actin’ mad! She's doing this to fuck with him cause he doesn't wanna talk to her. He can see it in the way she smiles at him before biting off the last of the cherry flavor. Knows it when she leans back on her elbows to push her tits out on full display. She does all this shit just to fuck with him and he can't even figure out why! She treats him like he's nothin’! Tryin’ to push all his god damned buttons! Fuck her and fuck this!
He has to readjust himself as subtly as he can just to stand up. Even being mad at her doesn't stop his cock from throbbing, doesn't stop the ache. Then he's mad all over again because this is Mercy he's thinking about. Bitchy, awful, needy Mercy who comes over and smokes pot with Merle. The same girl who laughs whenever his brother calls him some stupid girl's name. This same girl who tries to lay against him on the couch when Merle leaves to go get more beer because she's lonely.
He's shaking his head. “I ain't in the mood for your shit. ‘M goin’ home.” He hates her. Hates the pink strip of colored hair that falls over her shoulder. Hates the way his brain has already memorized the trail of blue melt that's dripping on the swell of her breast and racing for her dusky nipple.
“If you stay–” she shouts loud enough for him to hear. “I'll let you touch em'.”
He even hates himself at this moment because now his feet are planted in the ground. Needing a distraction he lights a cigarette he doesn't even smoke. “The fuck you think I wanna touch your tits for?”
Mercy shrugs. “You keep staring.”
He snorts a breath of air through his nose. None of it even means anything to her, she's just messing with him. Always messing with him and he was tired of being nice. “You're the one who whipped em’ out to get me to look. What did you expect?”
Her face twists up. “I'm sun bathing asshole! I was the one who was here first!”
“And you ain't pretending to give the world's shittiest blow job with that thing?” He takes a hit off his cigarette nodding to the sweet melting in her hand. Her face is turning red, the tips of her ears are burning in embarrassment. He's turned the tables on her, called her out on her little game and she can't take it. Some distant part of him feels an inkling of pride at that. Her lip curls and he's moving towards her one slow step at a time.
“I changed my mind. Get fucked!” She throws down her ice cream in the grass.
Letting out a soundless laugh he's next to her now. Daryl's looking down his nose at her, the blue melt finally falling off the tip of her breast. “You wanna suck cock? Here it is.” Then he's grabbing himself through his jeans.
He blames the fact that there's no blood left in his head for why he's acting like this. That he needs her good and pissed off and disgusted all so she'd quit trying to get on his nerves all the damn time. He wants her to hate him as much as he hates her. Only, she ain't pushing him away. No, she's licking her sticky lips as she looks up at him behind those big ugly glasses.
“What? Can't figure out how a belt works?” He asks her. He's goading her to yell at him, but she hasn't yet. He sticks the smoke in his lips bending down to grab her hand. He pushes her fingers against the buckle when he stands back up. “C'mon! You want it so bad you're going to have to take it out yourself.”
Mercy bites her bottom lip as she twists to sit on her knees in front of him. His heart stutters in his chest when she begins to tug on the strap and he nearly laughs. She was so desperate she was actually going to suck him off. She's silent for probably the second time in her whole life as she undoes his belt.
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blissfullsvn · 23 hours
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[3:05 AM]
academic rivals!taesan x reader, 1.3k, fluff
warnings: reader is sick, reader calls taesan a prick, he is kinda a prick (but fluff triumphs all 🙏)
a/n: it's necessary for their dynamic but no actual rivalry is emphasized here... (for my fellow academic rivals-to-lovers enthusiasts... ill cook up sth soon)
masterlist
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taesan is flustered.
you and taesan had never really had an amicable relationship. to put it into perspective, you'd rather spend hours editing the mess of a report your equally-messy groupmates wrote, than spend hours working together with han taesan—the student well-known for submitting flawless and only flawless pieces of work.
it wasn't always like this. of course it wasn't. who in their right mind would prefer to add 'babysitting adults' onto their plate that's already filled to the brim, instead of making their life easier by grouping with an academic weapon?
but working with han taesan is not for everyone.
actually, scratch that. working with han taesan is not for you.
you don't know what you did, but you're almost 100% sure he has a personal vendetta against you. for such a pretty face, his mouth only spits out the nastiest of things, at least to you.
actually, scratch that again. han taesan only does that to you.
because you shared all the core modules with him, you had foolishly decided to group up with him for all the assignments you had in your first semester of university. to put it simply, that was probably the worst decision you’d made in your life.
why? for every idea you gave, he'd step over with another. for every suggestion you offered, he'd pinpoint every aspect to shut it down. sure, he may have had better ideas, but you didn't think it was necessary to stomp at your input so readily. you definitely didn't think it was necessary to smirk like he'd won a battle after every instance.
you thought you'd be able to escape his belittling remarks and irritating smugness after that one semester, but why did he have to share the same plans as you as well? the day you stepped into the student council office and saw him sitting in the seat next to yours, you already felt dread clawing at you.
fast forward to the present, you're both running for student president for the next year. you had already lost the role of vice president to him this year, so you're determined to not let him pick at you again. not that he could even if he wanted to, because you practically transform into an iron shield whenever he enters your vision (which is more times than you'd liked, considering you share the same environment with him everywhere. he seems to enjoy this, though).
you've been preparing diligently for your student president pitch, but that's also on top of having 5 tight assignment deadlines and planning the biannual festival happening in the next month. for the past weeks, the student council office had turned into your place to work, eat, and even sleep, though the last was never intentional.
today, again, you're sitting at your desk, your laptop opened in front of you, but it’s unlike usual—a cup of hot-turned-lukewarm tea next to you, a pile of tissues scattered around the table, an oversized hoodie draped over your frame, your sniffles echoing across the empty room, and your body which felt heavier than usual.
you've tried your hardest fighting the urge to fall asleep, the dimness of the room not helping, but when the clock struck 3, you decide to give yourself mercy and lean forward, resting your head on your arms over the table. it's far from comfortable; your back is aching, your neck is sore, your nose is uncooperative, and the screech of the door is hurting your head.
you open your eyes briefly at the intruder by the door. they're frozen for a beat, as if surprised to see you there, then they’re tilting their head in what seems to be confusion. soon, they're taking small steps towards you. you should be alarmed, but your defenses have shut down from the fatigue, so all you can think is that if you die, you hope you die a climactic death.
the intruder, thankfully, does not appear to have any intent of killing you. they are, however, intent on disturbing you.
“y/n?” there's a soft tap on your shoulder. you squint, trying to decipher the blurry face in front of you before deciding against it. your act of protest comes out as a small whine that unintentionally escapes the back of your dry throat.
the figure stands there in shock, hand hovering your back. they blink a few times, as if trying to register what they just heard, before they decide to squat next to you, patting your shoulder again.
“y/n? don't sleep here.” the voice is familiar, but uncharacteristically soft. and fond. why is it fond?
you open your eyes again. seeing han taesan mere inches away from your face is something you'd never expect, but you're too tired to even be shocked. instead, you blink slowly, as if you're a newborn reacting to stimuli you've never experienced before.
“han taesan,” you mumble against your arm. your voice comes out nasally from your cold and as a result, more whiny than usual.
“y–yes?” he ignores the stutter and moves his hand to brush away the strands of hair covering your face. it comes so naturally that he freezes when he realises and quickly pulls his hand back to himself.
“prick.” you shut your eyes as you say this, missing the widening of his eyes. “annoying.”
he frowns, “i'm annoying?”
“very.” you don't miss a beat to reply. “why do i have to see you everywhere . . . .” you trail off, your voice decreasing in volume as you speak.
taesan is silent for a few moments, during which the only sounds that can be heard are the tick-tock of the clock and the whirs of the air conditioner. he takes one glance at your hoodie and the tissues around you before promptly turning off the AC.
“fine,” he huffs as he stands up. “i’ll be annoying for a bit more.” he taps your shoulder again. “go home. you can't sleep here. it's so late.”
the deprivation of sleep is getting to you, because your immediate response to him is to let out another whine that would immediately shatter your image of the cool senior and president-to-be if anyone heard you.
which, of course, brings us back to the first line.
taesan is flustered.
he's never seen you this… babyish before. ever since the first semester, all you would entertain him with were glares, furrowed eyebrows, and the occasional roll of your eyes if you were really salty. you had never been this defenseless around him, to which he feels something tug at his chest.
he stretches his lips into a line and squats down again. “what do you want me to do then?” his voice is soft. too soft. “i’m not letting you sleep overnight here.”
you slowly open your eyes, sniffling as you look at him in disbelief. “if you're not willing to carry me home, just go.” you shut your eyes again.
it's silent once again. at this, you dig your face deeper into your arms, having zero expectations. you furrow your eyebrows slightly when you hear shuffles above you, followed by the clash of stationeries, the crackle of the plastic bag used as your trash bin, the sudden cease of the whirring of your laptop fan, and finally the sound of a zipper.
you open your eyes in time to see taesan cupping your face in one hand and pulling your arm with the other to make you sit up. you let yourself be handled without evident resistance, though your confusion is blatant. once he sees that you're up, he quickly squats down in front of you, back facing you.
“climb up. this annoying prick will carry you home.”
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a/n: this may or may not be insanely self-indulgent due to a cold i may or may not have. i also may or may not have thoughts about a pt. 2.
anw, first post! just fitting for it to be about han taesan bcs this man (read: bnd as a whole) has been living in my brain for the past month (case in point: me literally writing this note at 3am when my headache is killing me).
i hope this was as enjoyable to read as it was for me writing it <3
© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.
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missvelvetsstuff · 2 days
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No Benefits
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.
Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.
Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon
Chapter 8
Warnings: swearing, angst, references to sex
The compound was tense the week after Cookie left. Tony was still pissed that she was gone and he couldn't get his favorite cookies. On top of that, fixing the Avengers gym was a major undertaking thanks to the holographic projectors that were used for team training simulations. Tony stood and watched as Bucky did most of the clean up before the tech team went in to replace everything he had destroyed.
Everyone was walking on eggshells as they waited for Nick Fury to return from off world. Of course he already knew what happened but was looking forward to bitching out the people who pushed her to leave. He was due sometime this week.
Sharon tried to get close to Bucky but he wanted to wallow by himself. He also shunned Nat who tried to distract him with her Widow seduction techniques. Anytime they were in the same room with Bucky, they were trying to get his attention. They would flirt, wear sexy and revealing outfits, act helpless so they could turn to him to open a jar or reach a higher shelf or something equally dumb. Bucky didn't really see through their efforts like the rest of the team did, he just didn't care what either of them said or did.
One morning Nat slid up to Bucky and started rubbing his arm as he drank his coffee. He looked at the hand on his arm then picked it up and pushed it away from him like it was diseased. Sharon stepped in and tried to get between him and Nat but he rebuffed her as well. It ended in a fight in the common room, both women ended up in medical, Sharon had a broken nose while Nat had cracked ribs and both had various scratches and bruises.
Bucky had just turned away from them and leaned on the counter to finish his coffee, seemingly oblivious to the women fighting right behind him.
Tony had enough and had Friday lock both women in their own rooms until Fury returned and decided what to do with them. He snapped at Bucky "I'm getting really sick of your little harem with their attempts to seduce you and fighting with each other. You need to find a way to convince them you aren't interested."
Bucky shrugged "I don't know what you want me to do, Stark. I don't speak to either of them, except to tell them to leave me alone and I don't do anything to encourage them. I don't want either of them and I keep telling them but they won't stop." He sighed "I just want Cookie."
The morning after Cookie went to the Harlan Thrombey book launch, Bucky was sitting next to Steve, both eating the omelettes Sam made for them, when Nat entered the room "Gee Barnes, looks like your precious Cookie has moved on already."
Bucky sighed and shook his head but didn't say anything.
Nat took that as a sign to keep going "She ended up in the gossip pages, seen leaving a book release party with Boston's most eligible, and notorious, bachelor." She smirked when she heard Bucky's breath catch "Ransom Drysdale has a different debutante, model or actress on his arm every week but this new woman is a mystery." She quoted the article she was reading on her phone. "There's a bunch of pictures of him with other women. Cookie was definitely a step down for this guy."
She snapped at Bucky "Why are you pining for some dumpy little analyst when I'm right here?"
Bucky could feel his control waning he turned and snarled at her "I don't fucking want you! Leave me alone. What the fuck are you doing out of your room?"
Nat shrugged "I have my ways"
Tony skidded to a stop, out of breath "There you are, Romanoff. Do I need to put you in a holding cell? The big guys room? Stop trying to stir up more trouble and leave Barnes alone!"
Nat scoffed "Fine, I'll go." She rubbed her shoulder against Bucky and purred "You know where to find me."
Bucky pulled away from her, then looked over at Tony in shock, he never imagined Tony would stand up for him. He softly spoke "Thank you, Tony."
Tony nodded "I think we need to have Romanoff and Carter checked by medical again."
He looked at Bucky and smirked "You're not hideous but they have a level of obsession with you that doesn't seem natural. I want to be sure they are both completely clear of that serums influence before we even consider putting them back out in the field."
Bucky nodded, thinking "It's interesting that I'm fine and we haven't had any problems with Yelena, maybe she'll know something more about that serum and the 'cure'."
Tony hummed "Well, you have the super soldier juice and they mentioned having to dose you repeatedly but yeah, maybe Yelena can shed some light. Friday, where is Miss Belova?"
"She's in her quarters, boss. She hasn't left since returning from kidnapping Cookie."
Tony nodded at Bucky "I'll let you know if I find anything. If Romanoff bothers you, tell Friday and we'll put her in a holding cell until Fury returns."
After talking to Yelena and consulting with Bruce and Dr Cho, And a trip to Antonia's holding cell, Tony discovered that Antonia had used an updated version of the serum after Yelena released all of the widows. The cure worked but only partially, and it seemed that the orders that Sharon and Natasha had been given were still floating around in their heads, making them act out. Yelena had voluntarily locked herself in her room after all the drama with Antonia, as she took being controlled again very hard and didn't trust herself.
Tony called the team to move Nat and Sharon to holding cells since Nat had escaped her room once but when they went to find the women Sharon was still in her room but Natasha was nowhere to be found.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That same morning, outside of Boston...Cookie woke up, closing her eyes as quickly as she opened them. Too bright, the room was all windows. She groaned as she became more aware, she felt some new aches in her body, most noticeably between her legs. She also felt an arm around her waist and that she had no clothing on.
A warm body behind her moaned "Relax. It's early and Sunday." Pulling her closer.
Cookie turned to look at him, in the early morning light and with his messy bedhead, she realized the man looked a lot like Steve Rogers. The thought made her giggle, until he turned her so she was facing him and pulled her close until she felt his morning erection pressed up against her "I know you're not laughing at me, sweetheart." He started kissing down her neck and grinding up against her until they were caught up in each other again.
A few hours later Cookie felt her stomach grumble "Ransom" she whispered with no response "Ransom."
She pushed on his shoulder and he groaned "nooo"
She started tracing down his side until he choked back a laugh and grabbed her hands "What is it, Cookie? I'm tryna sleep here."
"Ransom! I'm hungry so you need to feed me or I need to go home and get some food."
Ransom started pushing up against her "I've got something to feed you, right-"
Cookie elbowed him in the ribs "Really Ransom? What are you, 12? I need some food." She sat up "I should get home, I've got chores to do"
Ransom scoffed "Chores? That's what maids are for."
Cookie got up and found her clothes "Yeah, well not all of us have trust funds so we can afford to hire help."
He sat up and watched as she dressed.
Once she was somewhat respectable looking, for a walk of shame, Cookie turned to Ransom, who had started playing with his phone once she was dressed. After leaning down to give him a kiss she stood to leave "Thanks, Ran, I needed that. It was fun. Maybe I'll see you around."
Ransom looked up "Do you need a ride or something?"
Cookie smiled "No, my uber is almost here, I'm good."
He leered at her "I don't do relationships, baby, but you have my number if you wanna do it again."
She giggled "Yeah, sure. I'm going to wait out front for my car, so I'll see you."
When Cookie arrived home she took a long hot shower and went over her memories of the last 24 hours. She certainly never expected to meet Ransom Drysdale and spend the night with him. His reputation was justified, the man had a wicked tongue and impressive stamina for someone with no enhancements. He definitely satisfied but wasn't someone to get caught up with, as his reputation also warned. She wasn't in Boston to find a new man anyhow, she was getting over one. He didn't compare to Bucky but she tried not to think about him, everything was too confusing and messy.
Cookie sighed, she missed him and the friendship they had before Sharon showed up to ruin everything. Even though she knew it wasn't really Sharon's fault, Cookie couldn't help the anger that tried to bubble up. She pushed it back down as she dried her hair and went downstairs to find something to eat.
Cookie didn't feel up for cooking so settled for a bowl of cereal, sat at the dining room table and picked her phone up only to be hit with dozens of notifications. She felt her stomach drop, apparently Ransom was big gossip and the new unknown woman he left the book launch with was Boston's biggest mystery. Some of her coworkers were asking if it was her while Annie just tagged her with a winky emoji. Maria Hill texted a question mark and 'call me'.
Cookie's head fell into her hands, she knew she wasn't in any trouble but hadn't expected her little fling to get so much outside attention. This was a potential complication that she didn't need. At least she knew Ransom was on the same page and didn't expect anything more from her.
She jumped when her phone rang but was relieved to see it was Sam.
"Hey babygirl, sounds like you're having some fun in Boston. Don't forget us little people while you're hanging with the world famous writer and his family."
Cookie laughed "Please, it was one party. I'm still the nerdy intel analyst you know and love."
"Well I hope so. You didn't hear it from me but Robocop is turning green."
Cookie scoffed "Right, he has them to keep him occupied."
"Yeah, they are fighting over him and he's ignoring them. It's almost entertaining, at least until I had to help pull them apart. I got scratched in the face, those ladies are ruthless."
Cookie laughed "Poor, poor, Sammy. Beat up by those mean ol girls. I'm sorry I'm not there to stitch you up."
"Pffft, wasn't all that. Just annoying." Sam whined "I miss you, when are you coming home?"
Cookie sighed "This is my home for now. I miss you too Sammy but the compound was just too much. You should come here, there's lots of history."
They ended the call with Sam promising to visit when he could get away after Cookie told him she would make his favorite cookies.
After they hung up, Cookie started going through her mail. A plain white envelope with the compound as the return address caught her eye. The simple block writing made her heart race as she realized it was Bucky's writing. It was the first time he'd tried to reach out to her since the night they spent together and she was afraid he was finally rejecting her friendship outright instead of just ignoring her. Being ignored had hurt but there had been some hope, however foolish it might have been, especially after learning that he had been drugged, but if he told her he didn't want her in this letter that would really be it.
Cookie's mind came up with all sorts of awful things he could say and what his words could do to her and she felt a panic attack crawling up her spine. She dropped the letter like it was on fire and backed away without opening it. She wasn't ready to read what Bucky had to say yet and left it on the table as she started her laundry and straightened up her townhouse.
Every time she walked past the table she could see it out of the corner of her eye. It seemed to grow and catch her attention no matter where she went in the house but she just couldn't bring herself to open it yet.
@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scott-loki-barnes @selella @hiireadstuff @winterschildren8
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inkmonster21 · 1 day
Text
Sing for Me
4. This is Hollywood
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader
She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.
Previous Chapter
Series Masterlist
Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch
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It was the last day on set, and they were filming all the last-minute scenes, and touching up some stunts. That’s all that was on the schedule today. Which means I had nothing to do but sit and watch Cooper Howard be sexy.
The set bell rings and the buzz of people moving around begins again. I stand from my chair and slide next to Cooper as he reads over the very last rewrite. “Hi.” I smile at him.
Cooper nods and turns away, ignoring me completely. I felt a pain in my heart, “Cooper.” I move in front of him again, and he steps away. “What are you doing?” I ask in concern.
He lowers the script from his face, a glare in his eyes. “Trying to work, if you don’t mind.” I blink at him, he’s never once been so rude towards me. “I’m sorry?” “Go on. Be useful somewhere else.” I back away slowly from him, going back to my chair and sitting down. Embarrassment eating away at my core. Did I do something wrong?
Cooper continued to ignore me the rest of the day. He ditched lunch on set, wouldn’t speak to me at the crew meeting, and practically ran away when I tried to catch him when everyone was dismissed.
I catch him right when he is exiting his trailer. “Cooper. Hey, I’m sorry if I did anything to make you upset. I wish you would talk to me.” Cooper stares at me with dead eyes. “You want to talk?” I nod, “I would love to.” “Alright, let’s talk. This thing we have is over. We wrapped filming and I’m not too interested in keeping you leashed up anymore. So you’re free to do whatever the fuck it is you do.” He pushes past me.
I scoff, shock consumes me. “What? What the fuck?” “Wasn’t that hard to comprehend, honey.” His nicknames now have been laced with venom. “You said-“ “I said a lot of shit to get into your pants. Grow up, dollface. This is Hollywood. How else did you think you’d get to the top? Did you think I’d put my neck out for you for free? Get you cast in every film just out of the kindness of my heart? All you were was a good time.”
I stride up to him, slapping him across the face, “Fuck you, you mother fucker.” I spit in his face, tears flowing, a mixture of rage and despair seeping through. The crew now standing still as well watching the outburst. I back away from him quickly, running to my trailer and locking myself inside.
I knew it. I knew this was just a game. A time waster for him. How could I let myself fall so easily? I fall to the floor balling. I cradle myself as I choke on my sobs.
~
How long has it been since that happened? Weeks? Months? Who fucking knows at this point. It’s been long enough that the press tour is getting ready to begin and they’re requesting for my appearance.
“You have to go, you’re one of the leads,” Louis argues from the foot of my bed as I eat another scoop of ice cream. “No, I don’t.” I lick the spoon clean before grabbing the bottle of wine from my bedside table. Louis watches in disbelief as I turn the bottle up and down half. “Oh my god. You need some serious help.” I glare at him, my hair falling out of his bun as I shake my head at him. “You know what? If you’re going to be rude you can leave.”
“Oh, I’m going to be rude.” Louis flips the blanket off of me, revealing my two-day-old pajamas. He shakes his head, “this is a crime.”
He rips me from the bed and ushers me into the bathroom. “We’re going out tonight. I’m sick of seeing you cry over a 50-year-old man. You’re in your fucking prime and you’re in here drowning yourself in wine like a depressed benzo wife. Scrub your ass, brush your teeth, and put some makeup up because tonight we are getting you out of this mess. I’m calling Heather and her boyfriend.”
I groan as he pushes me into the large bathroom. “I don’t want to!” “Well, you’re going to. You can still get drunk but you’re doing it in style and with some friends.”
I cry once more in the shower, holding my cheeks in sorrow. He really has done a number on me. I lived for him every day for months, and now without him, I feel no real reason to try the basic social appearances. Louis has been doing my shopping, no doubt the store clerk thinks he's an alcoholic.
I stare at myself in the mirror and sigh. The dark circles around my eyes, my chapped lips that I would bite as I paced around thinking about him, my cheeks pale and dry; I was truly a mess.
With the makeup, the dark circles were covered, and a tight dress hugged me nicely. The ice cream and wine diet was effective. Louis shoves a handbag in my arms and pulls me out the door.
"There she is!" Heather cheers as she pulls me into her arms. "I haven't seen you in FOREVER! Big movie star now, too good to hang out with us?" I smile at her words. It was nice to be around my old friends for a change. "No, I'm ready to throw it all away. I am so tired, and the press tour hasn't even started yet."
Her boyfriend reaches out, "Well, it surely is a pleasure to meet you. I was beginning to doubt Heather, but here you are." "Nice to meet you." Louis returns from the bar with a tray of drinks. "Where is Johnny?"
I furrow my brow, "Johnny who?" Just that moment, a body takes the seat next to me. "Nice to see you again, (Y/n)." I laugh loudly as I tackle him in a hug. "Oh my god! How long has it been?" He smiles, "A long time. So long I heard you don't partake in the devil's lettuce anymore, or the snow, or the magic mushrooms. What happened to my party girl?" I shrug, "I got famous." He tilts his head, "And you have it backward. You're supposed to be getting us the good shit with all your high connections." I laugh falling into him, downing a shot as I do. It was true that I was quite some trouble in school. I just knew how to have a great time. It wasn’t my fault that I was the life of the party. Johnny was the plug who was able to get anything we desired. The two of us were close for the longest time. Never made it official though. I guess I have a pattern of relationships under wraps.
Shot after shot, my vision struggled to stay focused. Johnny dances with me in the middle of the room. His hands pressed into my waist as we swayed. "I remember when we were in high school, I thought you were full of it." He spins me around, at arm's distance with a charming smile. He spins me in, dipping down to whisper in my ear, "Now look at you, the biggest fucking star in America." I turn to look at him, the alcohol fooling my thoughts. "And look at you, still as handsome as a movie star." False, but what else could I say? It was easy with Johnny. We had the history to back up the emotions. Something stable, someone who wouldn’t memorize all my inner thoughts and feelings. Someone who wouldn’t then use said feeling to their benefit.
He runs a finger down my cheek, just like he would. I close my eyes, the simple touch reminding me of his skin. "Want to come out and smoke with me?"
It started with a joint, then Heather and her boyfriend came outside with the small baggie filled with powder, and with the entire mixture inhabiting my body, I felt warm. I felt strangely happy. I laugh as we leave the club, all five of us loudly making our way across the street. Camera flashes catch my attention. "Ah, fuck. Here they come." Louis huffs. "Just keep moving. Let’s get (y/n) in the car.”
The paparazzi race across the street, blocking traffic as they call for me, snapping pictures left and right. "Smile for us!" "Are you celebrating?" "Who are your friends?" "Is that your man, (Y/n)?" Johnny cups my lower back and takes my arm assisting me into the car. He leans in the cab with a smile. "Take care, (Y/n)." He leans in kissing my cheek and backing away, the cameras capturing it all. The door closes and Louis is sat next to me with a smirk. "What?" He shakes his head, "He's hot as fuck." I feel the warmth spread to my face, my lips curling in a smile. "Yeah, he is."
~
The tabloids ran a story on her outing with some friends. "America's Sweetheart Has a Night on the Town." I felt my knee shake as I began the read the article. She was seen at some middle class bar with some friends. None I had ever heard of or seen. Especially the one with his hand around her. Seen drinking, and dancing the night away, a dazzling smile on her face. I look at one of the photos in more detail. Her smile is wide and her eyes are blown to the size of saucers. I shake my head, "Come on now, you're better than that, honey." I run my thumb over the curve of her cheek. She looked good, just as beautiful as the last time I saw her. When I broke her heart. When I shattered everything I desired. Our souls that once fed each other were now starving in separate rooms, locked away from each other.
"She's so pretty," Janey says as she peeks over his shoulder. I couldn't hide my smile. "You think so?" Janey nods with a large grin. "Can we play her record, Daddy? Please? I want to dance." I smile wasting no time placing the record in the player. Her sweet voice ripples through the house. Janey holds my hands as we sway to the angelic sound. If I close my eyes I can see her on stage performing for the world, but more importantly for herself. She was a true artist. She bled music. Singing every chance she got no matter where it was. That notepad went everywhere with her and whenever the muse hit the pages would rapidly flip and she would jot down whatever was leading her to compose.
That notebook…
The one I keep tucked neatly between two geographic books in my study. I would pull it out and read her thoughts whenever an ache pierced through my body. The burning want of her presence. I missed her.
The love song was one of the last she attempted to construct within the pages. A song about me.
~
It was a hot day, and I couldn't think of a better way to spend it than sitting next to the pool. "This is the nicest house I've ever been to." Heather squeals as she throws her bag down by the row of chairs. Louis wipes sunscreen on his face. He turns to me with a smile, "So, is the Hottie coming?" I smirk at him. I sip my drink as I lay in the sun. "The Hottie is already here, and is walking down the steps right now." Johnny comes down the stairs clad in swim trunks, and tanned abs lining his stomach. Louis grabs my arm for support, "He stayed here?" I tip my sunglasses looking at my friend. "A girl can have fun. It’s not like we’re strangers." Heather winks at me from the float in the water, "She sure can! I swear you haven't been this fun since senior year!"
The phone in the pool house rings and I groan, "No, no work calls today." Louis stands refusing my request and picking up the phone. "Hello?" Louis quickly begins to scribble things on the pad of paper. I toss my head back knowing it's going to take up my time. "Never a peaceful moment, huh?" Johnny takes a seat next to me in the chair a beer in one hand, and a lit joint in the other. I quickly snatch the rolled devil's cigarette and inhale. "You don't even know the half of it."
"Oh, yes she can make it." I look at Johnny with a flat expression, "See what I mean?" Louis sits back down in his chair, reading the notepad. "So, Thursday, you're filming an ad for Vault Tech, and then we're all going to be attending the wrap party!" The lot of them cheer. "A real wrap party?" Heather gasps.
Johnny smiles, running his finger over my shoulder. "I get to see you in action. I sure am a lucky, man." I smile but internally shutter at the words remembering Cooper's same words. I inhale again, waving him from my mind. "You sure are a lucky man," I smirk at him as I pass the joint over.
~
The screen lights up revealing our host. "Oh. Hello there. Yep, it’s me, Cooper Howard, star of stage and screen. But I’m not here today to talk to you about my latest picture. No, today I’m here to show you a vast and wonderful place, not made by God Almighty but by the working man. A veritable Camelot of the nuclear age. Now, how ’bout we turn on some lights." The large lights hum as they illuminate the vault. "There, that’s better. Now, I’m speaking to you from deep inside the fully livable Model 96JQ1164." Cooper travels down the vault's path. "And what a beaut she is." He knocks against the metal wall. "And what a song she sings. Now, that right there is Vault 4’s three-foot-thick lead casing. Strong enough to keep out the Rads and the Reds." He sends a wink and a smile.
“Now would you look at that?” Cooper walks over to a lineup of robots resembling America’s favorite little songbird. Her eyes open and she smiles gently at Cooper. “Good afternoon, Mr. Howard. How can I be of assistance?” Cooper turns back to the camera with a smile on his face. “These bots will be a helping hand in your very own vault. Each community will have access to 6 individual bots that can move throughout the vault at your request.”
The real-life (Y/n) steps into the frame with her award-winning smile. “That’s right! These bots are equipped with knowledge spreading from a culinary chef to a registered nurse. She’ll be a helping hand to any resident. Helpful, smart, and beautiful. Wouldn’t you say, Cooper?” He smiles at (Y/n). “Stunning.” He breathes out.
(Y/n) walks ahead of Cooper. "Follow me." They both enter the elevator. The scene changes to view the so-called neighborhood. "Now, this corridor here is Sycamore Street, where you’ll wave howdy to any one of your 200 neighbors on your way home for an enchanted evening with your loved ones." Cooper stops beside (y/n). He places a hand on her shoulder. "Look, there's the Hawthornes." Both Cooper and (Y/n) wave before entering the family’s living space. "Now, this isn’t just your average all-American family. No, Lloyd and Cassandra here are both scientists, specializing in the effects of radiation on human DNA." Cassandra nods, "That’s right. And we’ll be living and working right here in Vault 4, leading a community governed entirely by scientists." (Y/n) smiles at the woman, "Wait a second, did you say “living down here”?" She leans into Cooper's side, a worried look on her face, "There hasn’t been a nuclear incident, has there?" Cooper rests an arm around her in comfort.
Lloyd shakes his head, "Uh, no, not yet. But, our family and a group of 80 volunteers will be conducting a five-year trial of Vault 4. To demonstrate to the world that, no matter what comes our way, America will be ready." Cooper shakes his head, a proud smile on his face. "Five years. Well, I may play a hero in the movies, but… you all are heroes in real life." (Y/n) smiles brightly from his side. "And now you can be a hero, too. By purchasing a residence in a Vault-Tec vault today." Cooper nods, "Because if the worst should happen tomorrow, the world is gonna need Americans just like you to build a better day after."
"And cut." The bell rings and I peel myself away from Cooper in disgust. I can feel my anger bubbling. Even working together he refused to look my way, always looking directly behind me. I need a fucking bump.
I scoff as I exit the vault room and into the hall where Barb stands with her colleagues, wearing a shit-eating grin. "Hi, (Y/n)." She waves her fingers delicately at me. I push forward a smile as I pass her, "Hi, Barb, so nice to see you." I walk across the hall into the separate vault where Johnny stands taking a tour. "Impressed?" He looks at me with a grin. "This is so cool. Tell me I get a family and friends discount?" I poke his chest lightly, "You give me that little tube you got in your shirt pocket, and you can get whatever you want." He smirks, quickly passing the small glass tube. I use the small spoon to place it at my nose before sharply inhaling. I pucker my lips, "Ohh." I shake my head lightly, the waves crashing. The numb wash of confidence and carelessness overtakes me. I giggle as I look at Johnny. He laughs with me, taking the tube from my hands. His gaze drills into my eyes, "You're so fucking high." I cover my mouth, unable to stop my giggles. "You think the camera could tell?" "I don't think so. You just seemed, extra happy." I wrap my arms around his neck, "How could I not be? I feel like a high schooler again.” He spins me, only for me to catch the tall figure in the door.
"Everything okay in here?" Cooper asks, an unreadable expression on his face. Johnny's hand remains on my waist; he nods, "All good, buddy." Cooper looks over Johnny, examining his every inch. With a grin on his face, Cooper extends a hand, “Cooper Howard.” Johnny shakes his hand, the two men bulking up towards each other, the beginnings of a dominance challenge. “Right, the cowboy. Johnny Bud.” Cooper raised a brow and hummed. “Can’t say I’m familiar. All the same, nice to meet you.” Cooper turns to bare onto my orbs, finally looking at me, into me. I don’t think he was fond of what he found. He nods his head. Not even a word was spoken to me. He exits the room with one final glance, a chuckle leaving his lips.
Fucking asshole.
~
That’s what she chooses to associate herself with. Some small town drug dealer from her hometown? I could see it in her eyes. She’s flying as high as a kite in the clouds. I can smell her on my suit. I bring the sleeve to my nose, taking a short inhale. It’s intoxicating. My restraints barely held together at the sight of her. I was begging god for just a second of time alone with her. Then I saw him trailing behind her, hand on her back as he looked at everything in amazement. Amateur. Why was he even here? Wasn’t this a closed set? Shows how professional Vault Tech really is. They’d let just anyone walk in here. I bet they don’t even have someone on her security. She could get hurt. I wouldn’t let that happen. Damned all I’d jump off a bridge for her and die happy with the memory of her kiss.
Barb looks in my direction, her eyes digging for some type of evidence of betrayal. She straightens my tie, “having a good time?” I shrug, “Nothing against these colleagues of yours, but what do you say we go home?” I need to get away from her as soon as possible. I can feel the desire building, and I as a man can only withstand so much.
“There is a wrap party.” I furrow my brows, “What, a… a wrap party? For this?” Unimpressed I roll my eyes. I didn’t want to spend another minute with these assholes. I sigh, “We go for a couple of hours, we shake a few hands-,” “It’s at our house.” I stare at her, behind her (y/n) walks across the hall, arm in arm with drug dealer John. Fury ignited, but I pushed it down. Surly she wasn’t going to come to the house. Barb would be livid. I would be rid of my temptation soon. I press a fake smile, “The things I’m willing to do for you.”
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wa-royal-tea · 3 days
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Previous | Beginning | Next
(Transcript under the cut - Click Pics for HQ Version!)
@thebrixtons
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Magnolia House, Holan (10:58pm)
Alfie (text message): I’m home. I’ll wait for you in the living room. Don’t come home too late.
Alfie: You’re home early. I thought you’d stay at the party longer.
Catalina: Huh? Oh. Wasn’t in the mood for it. I’m tired.
Alfie: Are you okay? Do you feel sick?
Catalina: I’m fine. Just really really tired.
Alfie: Let’s get inside then. I’ll run a hot bath for you. We can watch Simflix tonight too if you want.
Catalina: That sounds great. You’re a lifesaver.
Alfie: *chuckles* I try, my dear.
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Catalina: What’s on the menu?
Alfie: “Crash Landing on You”, “Dr. Cha”, “King the Land”, and-or “The Red Sign”.
Catalina: Isn’t that Carlos’ movie? I thought we already watched it.
Alfie: Yeah, this one is the sequel to “The Red Dress”. We haven’t watched it yet.
Catalina: Hmm, we can go for that one then.
Alfie: Aight. Your wish is my command~
Catalina: *inhales deeply*
Alfie: What are you doing?
Catalina: Nothing. You smell good by the way. Are you using a new cologne?
Alfie: I didn’t. It’s just the shower gel you got me last Winterfest. I’ve been using it everyday.
Catalina: Really? I never noticed it before.
Alfie: L-Lina—
Catalina: Shhh~
Alfie: Y-you said you were tired.
Catalina: I don’t feel tired anymore.
Alfie: But the movie—
Catalina: We can watch it later. I want you, now.
Alfie: Wait, hold on—
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*rustling sounds from the kitchen*
Alfie: *yawns* Lina?
Catalina: Alfie? Did I wake you?
Alfie: Yeah. It’s four in the morning. What are you doing up?
Catalina: Sorry. I was just very hungry. I had to look for something to eat.
Alfie: You could’ve woke me up. I can make something for you.
Catalina: You seemed tired. I didn’t want to bother you.
Alfie: It’s not a bother. Next time just wake me up.
Catalina: Hm, okay.
Alfie: You’ve been acting weird lately.
Catalina: Why’d you say that?
Alfie: First of all, what we did earlier…rarely happens when you’re “tired”. And second of all, you’re eating my onigiri. I thought you hate sushi.
Catalina: Onigiri is not sushi.
Alfie: Okay, but you don’t usually like onigiri too.
Catalina: Whatever. I’m hungry, okay? We don’t really have any leftovers from yesterday.
Catalina: What? Why are you looking at me like that?
Alfie: Sorry. I was just thinking.
Catalina: About what?
Alfie: About what Dira told me. She said you’ve been getting stuff you don’t usually do when you guys went out to eat. And she told me that you complained about your chest being tight at the fitting too?
Catalina: Urgh. It’s nothing. She’s just overthinking it.
Alfie: Is she though?
Catalina: Alfie, everyone in our family knows we’re trying for a baby now. So they could be seeing these “symptoms” as a sign because they’re excited.
Alfie: I mean, what if they’re right?
Catalina: But what if it’s not? I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.
Alfie: It doesn’t hurt to try, right?
Alfie: Look, I know you don’t want to disappoint anyone. I understand that.
Alfie: But it wouldn’t hurt for you to get a test and check it first. If it’s positive, great! We’re having a baby. But if it’s negative, it’s okay. We can try again.
Catalina: I…I’m scared.
Alfie: I’ll be there with you. I promise.
Catalina: Can you give me some time before I check it? I still have a few days before my period is supposed to come. I don’t want to jump the gun yet.
Alfie: Of course. If that makes you feel better.
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Getou Suguru x Reader
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Suguru Getou:
You have a superiority complex, you're a massive germaphobe and have a soft spot for poor, abused children.
First Date:
You couldn't believe it. You had a date. Not just any date though. One with the hot guy that was a shaman. He was also a cult leader but you were willing to let that slide due to how attractive you found him. The two of you met on PlentyOfSorcerers.com and you hoped that you weren't getting cat fished again. "If he's as good as he looks than I'll let him expand my domain!" You waited for your date just outside your restaurant of choice. "He should be here any minute."
You were wearing casual clothing. The two of you had agreed that it would be better to dress like average people. You didn't want your dates monk attire to attract any unnecessary attention after all. You were looking through the crowd when you felt someone pat you on the back. "Yo ####. You look wonderful." It was Getou. His long hair was memorizing but you gazed down and couldn't help but notice the shirt that he wore.
It was a plain black t-shirt except for the fact that there was a large image of a dragon ball character. Freezer you think? Anyway it was something about an alien committing genocide against monkeys. You were dumbfounded. "... I thought we agreed to dress casual..." He rolled his eyes. "Hey, he's my idol." Geto than questioned where he was taking you. "Why KFC of course."
You noticed his face starting to go pale. "Is something wrong?" He quickly shook his head. "It used to bring me painful memories. But that's all right because now I have you." You couldn't help but smile. You took his hand and walked towards your destination.
The place was packed. Getou groaned. "Why must there be so many monkeys!" He then glanced in your direction. "####, why don't you find us somewhere to sit while I go and order..." He looked tense. He must not enjoy crowds you thought. You kissed him on the cheek and then went to find a place to sit.
Getou then took out his disinfectant and began to spray everyone in line while he made his way to the front. The patrons were choking and gasping for air but who cares about monkeys right? He went to order when he nearly had a heart attack. He recognized the man behind the register. It was none other than Toji Fushiguro. "WHY ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!?"
The man was used to angry customers so this wasn't anything special but then he looked up at the the patron in front of him. "Oh? I didn't expect to see you here. Anyway, I owe some gambling debt to Gege so he was kind enough to let me work here and pay it off. I have to support my son after all!" Getou spat at him. "You're a terrible father and you know it!"
"Hmpf. Maybe. But at least I actually fathered my children. Now, what will you be ordering today?"
-------------------------
Getou returned and dropped the tray on the table. "Is everything okay...?" He couldn't wait to leave this place. "It's nothing. Go on, eat!" The two of you ate your food and you noticed that Getou looked somewhat sick. His face was now a shade of green. He decided to answer before you questioned him. "This food tastes worse than curses do!""... And what do curses taste like?"
He then responded "It’s like swallowing a dirty rag that’s been used to clean up shit and vomit." Oh. Well you were definitely letting him pick the place next time. If there would be a next time... It was then that you noticed two small children. "Daddy, daddy! We want crepes!" Getou sighed. "Girls, I thought I told you to wait until I came back home..." Your eye twitched."
Your dating profile didn't say anything about having kids..." He knew he had forgotten something. "Surprise...?" You stood up to leave. "I think we should see other people." He then began to sob into the table. The two girls then hugged their father and asked what was wrong. "I miss my wife (Gojo) girls. I miss her a lot."
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sciderman · 2 days
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im so happy for you that you have a possible reason/cause for your brain itch!!!! i hope the tumor removal goes superduper smoothly. Do they know how long its been present/growing???????? how did you find out??? <- you obviously do not have to answer these personal medical questions lmao im just!!!! so curious and excited for you.
from what i've discussed with the docs it's been there for a LONG time... they say this sort of thing might take up to a decade to develop - it doesn't happen overnight!
i think i started noticing symptoms about maybe... 7 years ago? literally as soon as i started working full-time, maybe. my first job stressed me out so much and i cried underneath the tables at 8pm because i couldn't leave the office, i still had so much to do. i was leading up an entire ass animation department at 20 years old. bad. awful. that's when i started depending on things to get me through the day. my body started feeling awful. i thought it was anxiety, or me just being weak, i guess. i don't know if stress created the tumor, or the tumor created the stress - (well, it's the latter now) i think it's probably both, but all the research i've done and what the doctors have said is that there's just - some people with a genetic predisposition for it.
it's funny - i never miss a deadline, and i'm really really good at my job, always. i never let anyone down, ever, at the cost of my own sanity, and i seem to always, always have it put-together when i'm dealing with people - i have the constant consensus from everybody around me that i'm the most cheerful person to work with on this here planet earth - but apparently, my body was falling apart underneath it all - which i failed to recognise, because outwardly i was holding it together so well, and figured it was just normal to cry all the time when nobody was looking.
i started really noticing it after taking on a lot of freelance work on top of my day job – i was really doing very hot, and did these amazing projects for some really amazing clients who sought me out for being amazing (i am amazing) - but naturally, had consecutive nights of no sleep, and quick deadlines - and INVOICING... screams. and just, realised - after taking those jobs that - my heart did not stop pumping afterwards. my heart was still racing a mile a minute, even after all those jobs were done and dusted and ever-so-loved and appreciated by very happy clients. my heart. wouldn't. stop.
i figured it was MAJOR anxiety, and sought out some counselling sessions, hoping they'd help. i relayed my woes. i said i'm worried i'm not resting enough. i'm not sleeping enough. my heart rate won't go down. they said "oh. not everybody needs 8 hours sleep, don't worry about it. everyone's different." - for some reason that reassured me. i thought it was okay. okay. i don't need rest. maybe my body's just different and doesn't need rest. maybe that's why i wake up at 6am every morning without fail. i just don't need sleep, i guess. (bad advice.)
so – everyone is telling me i'm okay. i should just get on. you're barely sleeping? that's fine, you probably don't need it. your heart is pumping? that's healthy. your heart SHOULD pump, idiot. get back to work.
i felt very unhappy at work - i felt like i was stagnating - so i moved job, last year. i moved job to one that was so, so much more fast-paced. i thought the excitement and change would do me good - but i've been facing maybe - 3 deadlines a day? vs my previous one-deadline-a-month arrangement. and i think it broke me. i needed to depend on so many unhealthy habits to get me through the day. i needed like 6 energy drinks, 3 coffees, i'd have the shakes, i'd have the jitters, i'd feel like i was going to fall apart every single day.
and then, one day, i did.
one week last year i doubled over - my body was in so much pain that i couldn't sleep, i couldn't eat, and worst off - i couldn't work. it was the first time i'd taken sick leave - i couldn't function. after being on antibiotics that didn't work, i eventually went into the emergency room because i just couldn't sleep. i couldn't do anything. i didn't care if they put me down, i wanted the pain to end.
she was a kidney stone. her name was sharon (sharon stone) - i suspect it was all the energy drinks that made her. i've dealt with her now. but during the process, the doc pulled me aside, and he said "dear. do you have any pain in your other kidney?"
i said... no............... why?
doc said "ah. problem for another time."
so, once sharon was dealt with, obviously i had to chase up on that doctor's ominous warning. i said "WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY OTHER KIDNEY!!"
you have a tumor, dear. his name is lamar. he's on your right adrenal gland, and we suspect he's messing up all your hormones.
i did my own research, and turns out all these crazy, mysterious symptoms i've been having all line up - so i chased, and chased, and chased.
the doctors didn't take me seriously at first. because i guess i'm not in pain, and i handle it so well. i'm still so strong. i'm a fighter, i guess. whatever. but, turns out...
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it's worth it to chase. your life might depend on it. i'm so glad i did, because there's an end to my suffering (dear god, i hope) - but, guys, if your heart won't slow, and you chronically can't relax, and you feel like there are bees in your brain - that's the time to do some research. it isn't normal, actually. and sure - it might not be a tumor, but - kid, you need some support. you need some help. you need to ask some questions. it's not okay for that to be your baseline. your body needs to rest. it needs to rest. even if i have to force it to. it has to rest.
right now i'm in a major stressed way, and i broke down and cried. i'm in the middle of a freelance job, and in the middle of an interviewing process for a new full-time job, and still working my current full-time job with 3 deadlines a day, and my surgery is next week. and i feel like crying. all the time.
i can't wait for rest. i hate that i literally have to be hospitalised to get it. but, i'll get it. i'm going to rest so fucking hard.
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44del · 9 months
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sorry i don’t even know what to say about paintbrush’s interview it was so bad that im literally speechless
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moeblob · 6 months
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So I saw a screenshot of Ralph without his hat (for his wedding outfit + I think a DLC outfit didn't have it?) and honestly. There's a reason he wears it. It's unfair if he doesn't. Olive Town really is just "hot bisexuals in your area" and they would thrive if they advertised it as such.
#sos pioneers of olive town#ralph#jack#i will never not love jack ok i have been playing again and i cant help it#once i unlock giant bear carvings to craft i make him the happiest man on the planet#its just something i have to do ok i love jack a lot#i do still really enjoy bringing ralph soup to the woods like a loser and handing it over while he eats lunch#but the point im trying to make is i cant stop loving jack and it really hinders my desire to romance others lmao#also i was googling some refs of ralph after i found the wedding ss because it was a lil cut off and i wanted the full look#and i saw a lot of questions like is poot worth it or comments about how its incredibly avg for a game#or how its not as great as past installments and im like ........... but the cast is so endearing to me#again its different strokes for different folks and not everyone will love the same farming sim as i will but still#dont be mean to my olive town babies......#the fact there are so many cutscenes in there of families interacting and moms being mom friends and gossip buddies#the fact there are so many cutscenes just about how these people live their lives is so wholesome to me#like sure the farmer is featured in the heart events#but there are so many where you arent the center ! youre just a bystander to like#a bro putting his younger bros motorcycle in the museum and the museum owner being mad theres a motorcycle in the museum#while then having multiple other people show up like YO SICK BIKE YOU GUYS HAVE THIS STUFF IN THE MUSEUM#while the younger bro is beaming cause thats his baby he loves his motorcycle and you better love it too#like its just so fascinating to exist in the town but not be the entire reason everyone keeps on going about their lives#yeah you interact and befriend them and you do tasks to help develop the island but it doesnt feel like thats why people like you#which is really important to me bc i feel like i have to do things to make people like me#i have to have a reason to interact with people irl or its just me being in their way#and poot lets me just live alongside people peacefully and talk to lil harvest sprites that hand me food and rocks and logs#anyway that is SO MUCH propaganda for a story of seasons game that no one asked for thanks gnight
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bruciemilf · 10 months
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"Kraven is gonna have a more animal friendly approach" ok let him be a cannibal then
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rapidhighway · 1 year
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I didn’t go to sculpture again……
#please please please I have anxiety I have a mental illness#I can’t make myself go there it’s hell idk why I’m just so nervous every time I make myself feel sick#and then I get another excuse not to go becuase I literally feel like I’m gonna throw up#I’m not going to pass if I don’t start going there…….#and I cannot handle repeating a semester#I live in fear#and it doesn’t help that I have intermedia class later today which is my second greatest enemy and just as dreadful#banging head on the table#I need to be wrapped in a blanket and go to sleep forever#god even if I go there I’m never going to be able to come up to my prof and talk to him about my project I get physically I’ll at the#slightest suggestion from my friends that I should finally do it#everyone’s done it already#I will literally cry if anyone talks to me#the profs just intimidate me so badly I feel like they hate me#and everyone says they’re super nice but I can’t make myself believe ittttt they will eat me alive#but if I never go I won’t pass the class and repeating the semester will cost money#pleas I have the stupid project idea ready but I just can’t do it I’ve thought about just emailing them and doing it all through email but#I couldn’t do that either I’m just in panic mode instantly#so yeah I’m just venting not asking ppl for solutions 😶✌️ I just don’t want to text my friend again bc I’ve been putting way too much on#them#they do practically everything for me anyway bc I can’t do shit by myself#uh ok I just need to put this SOMEWHERE#I’m gonna curl up and draw metal or whatever#ugh I know I’m making things worse by not coming#but I can’t make myself I just cant I’m gonna have an anxiety attack ✌️#no one look at me#I being sensitive and vulnerable here
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sysig · 4 months
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Spoiled rotten (Patreon)
#Doodles#Villainsona#Just Desserts#Surprise! New Just Desserts lore drop and it's about being sick lol#Luckily I am not sick currently :) Y'know how it is with ideas lol they pop up at random#It'll be useful for any future unfortunates :0 Hopefully not too soon!#So >:3c Onto explanations and terminology hehe#Most types of sickness in Just Desserts are referred to as ''Spoiling'' - it acts like an infection that can affect any part of the body#It usually starts inside since residents are technically endothermic - they have immune and waste systems that self-clean and regulate#But like anything these are fallible! Usually if the system(s) get backed up or overwhelmed - or caught! Spoiling is contagious#It's pretty hard to catch tho unless it progresses to the skin which is pretty rare - or if infected blood gets into an uninfected system#Again! Hard to just accidentally happen! But not impossible#The best thing a Spoiled resident can do is rest - cool down - and eat foods rich in protein :)#Which is like the JD equivalent of bitter medicine lol - the stereotype of ''Ew Broccoli''? Yeah everyone in the JD universe feels that way#Ironic since I love broccoli but it's icky-bitter to JD residents! Haha - candied vegetables are an acquired-enjoyable taste tho :)#And carrots are obviously a very popular ingredient lol#But yeah - a lot of JD things are the opposite of how humans do like staying warm to fight sickness#Staying warm will make Spoiling progress faster and overwhelm a resident's system! The best thing to do is rest somewhere cold#Spoiling is much less common in winter as you can imagine :)#And just like Melting some foods are less prone to Spoiling than others - it's a bit less straightforward than Melting tho lol#Partially because it depends way more on the life habits of the resident rather than their inherent traits#But some foods are unusually delicate! And some keep forever! It's not dependent on ''soft'' foods or even sugar content!#Preservatives aren't really a thing in the JD universe - antibodies? Lol - and all residents are ''fresh'' food because they're regenerative#They're also all adults from the get-go so cell reproduction and body health....It's all a thing it's all a thing lol#The important part is that they can get sick but they can also heal themselves - and when they can't there's medicine and magic! :D#Like when the Candymer got a cut that went down to her air pocket! Candy medicine :)
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bunnihearted · 2 months
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5 million male chicks per year are brutally murdered right after birth bc they're "worthless" to the egg industry yet im supposed to believe that humans arent inherently evil lmao shut the fuck up
#5 million only in sweden#imagine the number in the entire world#imagine all the other animals that are being slaughtered#god i wanna throw up humanity is so so so evil#we play god#we think we have the right to first make sure animals get raped (breeding at an unnatural rate is rape)#then have these animals in HORRIBLE 'living' conditions (ppl liken their conditions to actual hell!!)#and not only that the human workers more often than not sadistically torture nd abuse them before slaughtering them#on top of that... humans are so fucking useless they throw away most of meat and animal products#they like buy a package of meat then theyre too braindead to cook w it so it goes bad nd they throw it out#i dont know#all of this is unnatural and unholy. none of this is how its suplosed to be#we didnt get life just to put ourselves on top and then abuse and torture every other living being like this#no humanity is a sickness. humans are a cancer. a parasite. the more i think abt it the more im cemented in that belief#ppl act like 1% of 'goodness' weighs up for the profound harm and cruelty humans have set loose on this earth. thats a fucking joke!#god what the fuck is wrong with humanity. it's like everything went wrong .. well from the start rlly#humans (mostly men if we're being honest. women dont have nor act on such depraved desires) been fucking insane#animals arent cruel or sadistic. they follow their nature. the eating and killing isnt more than that#sure some animals like cats have sadistic behaviors. but that is nowhere near the scale humans act on it#like cats dont lock mice in a facility nd force them to breed nd then torture them in insane amounts nd so on so forth#humans are wrong. im certain that we were never meant to live like this. it's all insanity. the worst part it. 99.99% of ppl are part of it#it's so hard to find anyone who's intelligent enough to comprehend this. theyre all braindead megalomaniac sheep w a superiority complex#i cant connect w anyone bc of it#i just get so disappointed when i realize someone's just as braindead as everyone else nd then i stop caring abt them. everyone r this way.#idk how to live with these humans. theyre all fucking insane
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mintaikcorpse · 9 months
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Me when barely eating for a week starts to feel like I've barely eaten for a week
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