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#a different one from the one i mentioned before
moonstruckme · 1 day
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i was wondering if we could have some roomate!james where him and reader have a disagreement over something and reader feels like james don’t want her there anymore but he comforts her??
Thanks for requesting!
cw: reader feels financially insecure
roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
“James.” You run your fingers worriedly over the small tears in the doorframe. Look to your roommate in the kitchen. “This is getting out of hand.” 
“What is?” 
“Juniper’s been scratching on the doorframe again.” 
James tsks. “Junie-girl,” he coos, little reprimand to be found in his tone as he looks down at the orange cat currently winding through his ankles, “what are you trying to do to us, huh?” 
You’re not quite so amused. Since James had agreed to look after his friend Lily’s cat while she’s traveling, Juniper has knocked down and broken two of your glasses, scratched up a corner of the couch, and pissed on the carpet in James’ room. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with the smell of that last one yourself, but you doubt your landlord will be pleased if James can’t get it out by the end of your lease. 
“She’s got to stop,” you say, oddly unsure if you’re trying to reason with James or the cat. “It’s getting really noticeable.” 
“I’m not sure what else to do.” James shrugs. His pan sizzles as he turns over the chicken he’s cooking. “I’ve already moved her favorite scratching post over by the door and sprayed it with the catnip Lily gave me.” 
You cross your arms and sit down on the couch, chewing the inside of your lip. “I’m worried about the security deposit,” you admit. 
“Oh, don’t be.” James waves a hand vaguely in your direction. “My last apartment was way worse than this when I moved out, and they didn’t charge me for anything.” 
His unconcern nettles you. Of course, why would James be upset about a security deposit? He likes to pretend at independence, but you know his parents will always give him funds if he’s in a bind. He doesn’t worry about money the way you do. 
 “Yes, but that was a different landlord, wasn’t it.” There’s a bit of bite to your tone, and you try to soften it. “Maybe someone else could take her for the rest of Lily's trip?” 
James turns, eyebrows lifting as though he’s surprised you’d even ask. “She couldn’t get anyone else to take her in the first place. Mary’s visiting her family, Marl’s allergic, and Sirius would have a cow.” You’re not very inclined to find the last one a spectacular excuse, but you keep your mouth shut. “I agreed to take her,” he says, somewhat firmly, “and I don’t want to go back on that.” 
Heat prickles over your skin. “I just—listen, I can paint over the small things,” you say. “I’m going to try to cover up as many damages as I can, but when your friends come over and break the handle off the microwave” —true story— “or you let their cats tear up the apartment, I don’t know what to do.” 
“I told you I’m going to fix the microwave,” he says without turning around. 
“When, James? That was months ago, and—” 
“And if my friends coming over is a problem for you, it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of opportunities to mention it when we first moved in.” Now James is growing agitated too, his posture stiffening over the stove. “I don’t get where this is coming from. I told you before we moved in that I’d want to have friends here often. When I asked if Junie could stay here, you said it was fine!” 
“I didn’t know it’d be like this!” You feel ridiculous, nearly shouting at him in your mostly lovely apartment. James really isn’t a bad roommate overall; you know you could do far worse. But the small things have begun to add up, and you really cannot afford not to lose your deposit. “I like your friends, and I like Junie, but this is—it’s too much.” 
“You shouldn’t have lived with me if you couldn’t deal with it.” 
James flicks off the stove, turning around to speak to you directly, and you see the moment he sees the glossy sheen in your eyes. His expression pinches. 
“Sweetheart—” 
“No. Do not feel bad for me right now,” you hiss, blinking furiously. “Just because I’m not good at arguing doesn’t mean I’m not still mad.” 
Your anger is rapidly fading, though, as his words reverberate around in your head. You shouldn’t have lived with me. Does he really think that? There are certainly things upon which you don’t see eye-to-eye, but you love living with James. You love spending time with him, sharing things with him, just being around him. The idea that he doesn’t feel the same about you starts spiderweb cracks going through your heart. 
“I’m not good at arguing either,” he says with a hefty sigh. The tension seems to go out of his shoulders with it, and he starts toward you with heavy steps, plopping down on the couch. “Can we just talk, please?” 
You sniffle, working hard to suppress your tears. “Do you think it’d be better if we didn’t live together?” you ask. 
James' eyes widen behind his glasses. His brows hook up in the middle. “No. Why would you say that?” 
You shake your head, not quite looking at him. “I honestly do like your friends. I don’t mind them coming over or helping you do favors for them, and I get that—that sometimes things happen.” You take a shallow breath. Ignore the way James’ hand twitches in his lap. “But you’re right that I didn’t consider all of this when we moved in together. I’m okay with trying to get past it, but if you want me to move out—” 
“Oh my god, no.” James leans forward, trying to catch your gaze. You don’t let him, because just then a small droplet of water squishes out of the corner of your eye and begins a slow trudge down your cheek. “Sweetheart, I don’t want that. I like living with you.” 
Juniper hops up onto the couch, plodding onto your lap and rubbing her side against your stomach affectionately. A wet laugh bubbles out of you, more tears cresting your cheeks as you scratch awkwardly between her ears. 
James makes a sound so soft you think you’ll dream about it. “Can I hug you?” 
You lean toward him in answer. He meets you halfway, needling his arms under yours and folding you into him. You press your face, hot with embarrassment and upset, into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and James’ hand rubs your back in big, sweeping circles, before it stops moving at all, pressing flush to your spine, easing you closer. Junie hops off your lap. Evidently, she considers your comfort taken care of.
“I don’t want you to pity me,” you mumble. When you blink, your lashes leave wetness like the strokes of a paintbrush on his skin. “If you want me to move out, it’s okay.” 
“I don't,” he promises, squeezing you until it almost hurts. “I was being rash. I was only being defensive because you were angry. About very reasonable stuff, if I’m honest. I can pay for your half of the security deposit if we lose it.” 
You shake your head, shifting your body to hug him harder. James meets you a hundred percent. “You don’t need to do that.” 
“I do, it’s fine. It’s my mess. Just don’t talk any more about moving out, okay?” 
You mumble your agreement into his neck. It tickles, and James squeaks, but he doesn’t let you go.
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iluvmattsbeard · 3 days
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i can’t help it (c.s)
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master list
taken!chris x ex!reader
warnings: cheating/sexual content mentioned/swearing
preview: you’re still close with the triplets despite you being Chris’ ex. Chris gets a new girlfriend, Camila, and brings her around. you weren’t bothered by it which drove Chris crazy because he wanted you to be. Camila starts to notices Chris’ actions and starts to despise you. it didn’t help her overthinking because you were his first for everything.
a/n: this song felt targeted towards me 😢 listen to it while reading 🤷‍♀️ - L🤍
“I have someone to introduce to you guys.” you look up from your phone towards Chris. “who?” Nick questions doing the same thing as you. “my girlfriend.” Chris lets out, taking small glances at you. your face was blank from his surprise reveal. you couldn’t care less in fact, you were glad he moved on. “girlfriend? for how long?” Matt asks. “only a few months. I feel like it’s the right time for you guys to meet.” Chris says.
“she’s incredible, trust me.” he adds on. you stare at him, “I can’t wait to meet her.” you let out, making Chris’ eyes to stay on you. “great.” he responds with a small breath and fake smile.
Chris’ POV
she can’t wait to meet her? how could she say that so confidently? “you’re actually okay with it?” I ask her. she lets out a small chuckle, “why wouldn’t I be okay with it?” I shrug, “I don’t know. it was just a question.” she shakes her head with a small smile, “of course i’m okay with it.” she lets out. “okay well we’re going to meet her at our favorite place to eat.” I inform them. they all respond with “okay” and eventually get ready. I told them i’d meet them there.
I get to Camila’s house and I was sat on her bed. “is this outfit okay?” she asks. I look up from my phone to analyze her. “yeah it’s good.” I say looking back at my phone. she turns around to face me, “is something bothering you?” she asks. I shake my head, “no i’m okay.” which was an obvious lie. she sighs, “will your brothers like me?” I stare at her blankly. yeah they probably will like Camila but, Y/n will always be the first choice but, I can’t tell her that.
“yeah they’ll like you.” I say getting up, “you ready to go now?” she nods, “yeah i’m ready!” she smiles.
when we get to the restaurant, I notice only Matt and Nick sat at the table. we walk over and Camila immediately greets them. I sit down at the table looking around for Y/n. she didn’t end up coming? what she couldn’t handle it? “how did you guys meet?” Nick asks, “we met on instagram. I came across his page and we just started talking.” she responds back. she looks at me, “isn’t that right?” she asks me with a smile. I look at her and give a small smile, “yeah…”
“sorry! I had to use the bathroom.” I hear a familiar voice say. I turn my head to see Y/n. my smile fades as I see what she’s wearing. it was slightly revealing and her tattoos were visible. she looked unbelievably incredible.
End of Chris’ POV
“hi i’m Y/n.” you say holding your hand out towards the new girlfriend. she immediately shakes your hand, “i’m Camila. are you Matt’s girlfriend?” she asks as Chris takes a sip of his drink, “yes I am.” you respond back jokingly. she didn’t know who you were? Chris chokes on his drink and shakes his head from the response. you, Matt, and Nick laugh before Matt responds, “she’s not my girlfriend. Chris never told you about Y/n?”
Camila looks at Chris confused, “no?” Nick raises an eyebrow, “Y/n is Chris’ ex girlfriend.” which makes her eyes widen, “you’re his ex?” she asks. you nod, “don’t worry, he’s all yours. i’m just close with his brothers so we agreed it wouldn’t be awkward between us.” Camila gives a fake smile, “oh that’s different. yeah, Chris never told me.” she looks at him, “he didn’t mention you’d be here either.”
everyone at the table starts to feel awkward. Chris clears his throat, “well, I didn’t expect it either.” he lies. you shift a bit from his words, “you’re the one who-.” Nick starts up but you cut him off, “let’s order yeah?” everyone nods. by the time dinner was done, you guys head out, Camila close to Chris. she had her arm wrapped around his. you notice she was giving you glances from time to time. you weren’t bothered by the fact they were together. only bothered by the fact she was giving you looks.
Chris’ POV
later that night when me and Camila headed back to her place, she started to yell at me. “why didn’t you tell me you were still close with your ex?” what was I supposed to say? when Y/n broke things off, I was crushed for weeks. I still am hurt by the fact things went south so quickly. I let out a sigh, “she’s close with my brothers.” she rolls her eyes, “and you think that’s completely fine? is she always going to be around?”
my phone suddenly buzzes.
Y/n
‘so you didn’t know I was going to be there?’
I stare at the text. I had to lie or else Camila would’ve been more angry.
Chris
‘look, for the sake of my relationship, I had to lie. i’m sorry I caught you off guard.’
Y/n
‘👍’
“hello? who are you texting?” Camila asks walking over to peek at my phone. she scoffs, “Y/n? really?” I shut off my phone, “so you can’t even keep conversation with me because you’re busy texting her now?” I roll my eyes, “can you just let it go?” I let out making her eyes widen a bit, “let it go? tell me how I can just let this go. you kept this from me.” I pull her in by her waist, “listen to me. all that matters is it’s just me and you.” I look at her with a blank stare. hoping she would believe me.
“i’m with you. not her.” I continue on. she rests her hands on my shoulder, “just me and you?” she asks. I nod, “of course.” she pulls me in for a kiss which I reciprocate. all I could think about was Y/n.
End of Chris POV
you were laying down on Nick’s bed as he rambles about Chris’ relationship, “I mean do you see the way she looks at you? you really have her bothered.” he says. Camila has been hanging around more often and she always was attached to Chris. trying to rub in your face that she has him. again, you didn’t care. “what am I supposed to do? I don’t want to be the reason they have problems.” you sigh, “should I stop hanging around? I mean I guess it’s a little weird that I am his ex.” Nick looks at you with a blank face, “don’t say that. we want you around. even if Chris acts like a jerk when she’s around. you came first, she has to deal with that.”
“I know that but, she’s his girlfriend now.” you say going back on your phone.
Camila’s POV
every time Y/n’s around, I can always feel the tension between them. it makes me wonder if he still has feelings for her. I ended up going through his phone eventually to see if there was anything going on between them but, nothing. at least from her nothing. Chris still has photos of them together when they were in a relationship, he has old text messages, and worst of all, explicit photos of Y/n.
if it’s only me for him, as he claims, why does he keep all of this shit? “Camila?” I hear Chris call out as he walks back into my room. I put down his phone quickly and face him. “what are you doing with my phone?” he asks walking over to grab it. he looks at the pictures on his screen and looks up at me, “seriously?” I scoff, “why do you have all of those still?” he gives me a blank stare, “I just never got around to deleting them.”
“don’t lie to me Chris.” he shakes his head, “i’m not lying but, seriously? you have to go through my shit?” he adds on which I shrug as a response.
End of Camila’s POV
as time goes by, Chris notices how distant you were getting. he has been stressed out more than usual lately. the more you would avoid him, the more it drove him crazy. Camila has been bringing you constantly. she wouldn’t let you go as much as he reassured her. Chris would catch her looking through his phone again. he would just ignore it because he had nothing to hide, at least on his phone.
Chris laid in bed as he clicks on your guys’ shared messages. his thumbs hover over the keyboard as he figures out what to text.
Chris
‘can we talk?’
Y/n
‘no’
Chris
‘don’t be like this Y/n.’
Y/n
‘focus on your relationship.��
Chris rolls his eyes and turns off his phone, just to hear it buzz again.
Camila
‘come over baby.’
he goes to respond but deletes his response. later that night, Chris hears the front door open. “hi Y/n.” he hears Matt say. Chris sits up from his bed when he hears your name. “hi Matt. where’s Nick?” you ask. “he’s in the shower. where you guys going tonight?” he asks. “not sure yet. we’re supposed to meet with Emmilea later.” you respond. Emmilea was your best friend that soon got close to Nick. Matt nods, “i’m going to go wait for him in his room.” you say heading towards the hallway. “okay.” he says.
Chris gets up from his bed and walks towards the door. you were about to open Nick’s door but Chris pulls you into his room. “what the fu-.” you let out but you were cut off by him closing the door and locking it. you look at him confused as he stares at you, taking a gulp. “what the fuck Chris.” you let out. “why don’t you want to talk to me?” he asks making you roll your eyes, “I don’t have time for this.” you walk towards the door but he grabs your arm turning you around to face him, pushing you against the door slightly.
“Chris fucking let go.” you let out trying to get away from his grip. “you’re driving me fucking insane.” he says with uneven breathing. you avoid eye contact, “what is that supposed to mean?” “I can’t keep doing this.” he says. you push him away. “all I can think about is you when i’m with her.” Chris confesses getting closer to you, moving his face to the crook of your neck, “I need you.” he whispers, starting to kiss on your neck as he rests his hands on your waist. you shut your eyes from the sudden action, your mouth agape as he continues to whisper, “I miss you.”
you weakly try to push him away but deep down you didn’t want him to stop, “Chris we can’t.” he pulls away and stares at you. your breathing became uneven as you quickly gave in to his gaze. Chris picks you up as you guys start to kiss heavily. your hands running through his hair as he walks over to his bed, laying you down without pulling away from your lips. this kiss was different. he was more aggressive and passionate at the same time. you help him start to get undressed as he yanks your shorts down, along with your panties. you wrap your legs around his waist as he immediately pushes into you.
you arch your back and let out a gasp. he didn’t waste anytime wanting to please you. you were a moaning mess, the bed frame was hitting the wall as he thrusted, which made Nick and Matt look at each other. “are we surprised?” Nick asks as Matt shrugs, “I wish they would keep it down though.”
when you guys finished, you both were laying there, staring at the ceiling as you guys try to catch up with your breathing. Chris looks at you, as you got up beginning to put your clothes on. “I have to go Chris. Nick and I are supposed to go out.” he groans, “seriously?” you let out a small laugh, “i’ll come back later.” he nods getting up, walking towards you. he pulls you in by your waist and kisses you. you pull away slowly, causing him to grow a smile. you walk out his room and was instantly met with the looks of the two boys.
“uh- did you guys-.” you were cut off by Matt, “definitely not.” Nick lets out a laugh, “I can’t believe you Y/n. we have to go!” he says getting up from the couch.
when you and Nick left the house, Chris ended up in a conflict. Camila showed up out of nowhere, “you couldn’t text me back?” she asks. “I just wanted to stay home.” he responds. she sighs and sits on his bed. she shifts uncomfortably as she gets up to see what she was sitting on. she picks it up to see a black laced bra. Chris was on his phone as she gets up and begins to yell, “are you fucking serious!” he looks up and his eyes widen a bit. “it’s yours from last time.” he lies. “bullshit! I have never owned this!” she says angrily. Matt was in the living room as he hears the arguing coming from the room. he pulls out his phone to text you.
Matt
‘pretty sure Chris just got caught.’
“it’s Y/n’s isn’t it?! I fucking knew it!” she yells. Chris gets up and shakes his head, “I can’t fucking take it anymore! everything always has to be about her! you can’t just shut your fucking mouth about her huh?” her eyes widen, “you’re the one who still has shit from her, the messages, and god don’t even get me started on the photos!” Chris lets out a humorous scoff, “okay, yeah, I can’t help it, are you happy? I want her, not you. she never gave me a hard time.” Camila throws the bra at him, “you’re going to regret this!” she yells. “right. I didn’t regret it when I was fucking her earlier.” he lets out firmly.
Matt’s eyes widen from the living room.
Matt
‘well they’re definitely over.’
he texts you.
Camila storms off, leaving Chris in his room, letting out a sigh of relief. he picks up your bra as he takes a picture of it, sending it to you.
Chris
‘I think you forgot something’
Y/n
‘i’m so sorry Chris’
Chris
‘you should be’
you scoff before texting back.
Y/n
‘it was your fucking fault too’
Chris
‘no not about that’
‘you’re out right now with no bra’
Y/n
‘oh oops’
‘it’s a little cold too’
Chris
‘wow’
‘come back then’
you giggle to yourself and leave him on read.
“see, you came first. I knew he would go back to you.” Nick says as he takes a sip of his drink. you roll your eyes playfully, “he’s obsessed with me.”
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a/n: sorry i’ve been slacking! hope this makes up for it. LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE SO SO SO APPRECIATED! - L 🤍
tag list! (comment if want to be added)
@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nickgetsmewetter @jetaimevous @mwahsturns @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24 @strnlxlqve @sturncakez @sturnioloremarker @3lizaluvs @lanaswifeyy @adirtylittleheart @luzsturniolo @sturnpooks
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Imagine an alliance between 2 tribes, the werewolves and the humans, lately there have been many disputes and grudges between the two tribes, so they planned an alliance, a marriage, the daughter of the leader of the humans should marry the leader of the opposing tribe, a young werewolf with the desire to start a beautiful family
He coughs trying to calm his heart as he imagines the great difference in size between the two and the good sex they would have COF COF
You were ready to do whatever it took to keep your people safe, and if marrying the Alpha of the werewolves to keep the peace, so be it. Really this was a good thing, it would double the land your people had access to, double the resources and riches, not to mention werewolves had proven to be formidable adversaries, and they were sure to make invaluable allies. so why were you shaking? why were you so scared? this was clearly the right thing to do for you and the people you served.
You supposed the fear was natural. you'd spent almost all of your adult life fighting these monsters. almost dying to their sharp claws and vicious teeth. it would probably be a while before you stopped seeing all werewolves as a monolithic enemy. Although, you already knew all werewolves weren't bad. When you were a child you would sneak away into the woods and play with a werewolf pup around your age. Now looking back you cringe thinking about how dangerous that was, no doubt one of you would have been killed if either of you had been caught. Still, he'd been sweet, if one werewolf child could be kind, couldn't they all be?
Your wedding was hardly even a ceremony. Guards on both sides lined the walls of the office, fully armed and tense, ready to strike if something should go wrong. you smiled tensely at your husband-to-be as you signed the paperwork officially making you a married couple, he did not smile back. The marriage license meant almost nothing to him, werewolves sealed their romantic ties in a different way.
Every human in the room goes stiff as the werewolf alpha tilts your head to the side, cupping your jaw with one hand and pulling the collar of your shirt to the side with the other. your heart races and you try to be pliant in his hands, but your mind is flooded with your memories from battle. how many times have you been bitten by a werewolf? how many times had you felt the searing pain of their bear trap-like jaws clamping down on you, crushing your armor, and tearing your skin? he bites you just as you start hyperventilating. You scream. he's killing you, he's going to rip your throat out this was all a trap, you're going to die.
He lets go of you and you collapse, your legs shaking too badly to keep you up, The werewolf pulls you back into your arms, licking at the wound he just left, you struggle, still panicked. "sorry, I know it hurt, humans are so weak," he murmurs still licking at your neck. it does soothe the pain, slowly you start to relax too. you hadn't died, he hadn't betrayed you. you were bound together now, Mated as they called it.
You put yourself together again in time for the celebratory banquette. you were a warrior and a leader, you had to be stronger than this, or at the very least look stronger than this. You stood statuesque next to your new husband at the head of the table, humans and werewolves alike cheered in joy, the war was over, the tribes united. People ate and talked merrily, although no one seemed brave enough to cross the invisible boundary line, werewolves ate with werewolves, humans with humans.
there was a lavish meal set in front of you but you didn't feel up to eating, instead, you examine your reflection in the back of a spoon, despite the wound only being a few hours old it's already scared over looking months old. You knew werewolves had some healing properties, you were surprised this magic could be transferred to humans.
"Does it hurt?" you jump at the rough voice, you'd almost forgotten your husband was right beside you.
"no. I'm just surprised that it doesn't," you admit. he reaches over and lays his clawed hand on top of yours comfortingly.
"I'm sorry it scared you," he says and you feel your face go hot you were embarrassed at your reaction. you knew he was going to bite you as a way to mark your union, you should have been better prepared. you look in his eyes, they're a strange yellow color, it's captivating, even if his expression is stoic his eyes are looking at you kindly. you remember again the werewolf boy you were friends with, and you wonder if he remembers you if he's even still alive. You hoped he was, you hoped you could see him again in this new life.
you blink, realizing you'd gotten lost in thought just staring at him. "I- It's alright I mean. I'll live," you stammer. He squeezes your hand reassuringly.
"Of course, you're so tough a single bite wouldn't be enough to take down my mate," he's teasing you you realize, it makes you smile a little. this wouldn't be so bad after all.
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slutforln4 · 1 day
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TWO PRIZES
🖇️ lando norris x f1 journalist!reader
🖇️ in which you realise lando wasn’t just the driver you interviewed
🖇️ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol
🖇️ author’s note: the bits in italic are her memories :)
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.
The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Monaco GrandPrix.
Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.
You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.
That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?
You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.
Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.
You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.
“Hello?”
She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”
Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.
“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”
“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”
“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”
“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.
“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”
“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”
With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.
Well, not first ever.
You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.
Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.
It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.
You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.
The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”
Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.
If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.
You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.
“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.
“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”
“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.
Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.
After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”
You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.
This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.
You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.
“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”
“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”
The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.
“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”
Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.
“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”
“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.
It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.
Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”
“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.
“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.
After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.
“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”
Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.
“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy.“This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”
“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”
You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”
Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”
“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“
“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”
You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.
“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.
He gives you a card with his number on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”
And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.
“Thanks, mate.”
Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.
His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.
When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.
You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”
“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”
“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “Victory looks good on you.”
“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”
“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“
“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”
“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”
It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.
Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.
The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.
It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.
You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”
The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.
Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.
Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.
“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”
His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.
“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.
You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.
After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.
You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.
“It was you.”
Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.
You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”
“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.
You nodded. “Every day since that night.”
Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”
A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”
“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”
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saintslewis · 2 days
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒
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pairing: tattoo artist!lewis hamilton x black fem!reader
summary: in which reader needs a good tattoo artist to help her vision come to life and lewis, a mutual friend, is recommended and is more than happy to help you out.
warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, mentions of tattoo needles, mentions of w33d, smut (18+ mdni), pet names, just read 🫵🏽 (buckle in, frens) sorry for typos!
saint’s team radio 🎀: heyyyy! this spawned in my mind in the middle of the night and my super talented fren @mauvecherie-writes came up with this masterpiece. hope you all enjoy 🤭. (anon i hope this does your request justice!)
tags: @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @httpsserene @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @perfecttrashface @non-stop-imagines @peyiswriting @purplelewlew @alika-4466 @arshiyuh @yeea-nah @louvrepool @motheroffae @lorarri
pls like, reblog and comment! 🫶🏽
pls note, the lady in the header does not represent the reader! 🫶🏽
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“You’ve been sitting there thinking so hard, I could see steam comin’ out your head.” Marie laughed as she walked close to you with two mimosas in her hand, handing one to you. The get-together she occasionally hosts with all of your mutual friends was in full swing, everyone in different corners of the huge house.
Giving her an eye roll, you sipped on the drink before answering. “Girl, fuck you.” You cussed, hearing her laugh. Following close behind her was another one of your friends, Lani. Her kitten heels clacked against the tiled floor as she sat next to you on the light blue couch.
“What’s going on, what’s the tea?” She sipped on her drink and held onto it and she looked at you. “Well my lovely friends, I’ve been thinking about getting a back tattoo for a good minute now.” You replied, leaning back into your seat as your friends gasped with excitement.
Marie held your manicured hand in excitement, “Girl oh my god, it’s going to look so good on you!”. Lani then put her drink down then sat up to look at you properly. “What you gonna get? How big?” She asked.
“A red dragon maybe. Covering the whole thing, It’s been on my mind.” You answered, looking between your excited friends. “Anddd you’re wearing a backless dress right now! Y/n, you better get this damn tattoo.” Marie said, still very much holding onto your hand.
“Anddd it’s going to look great during backshots.” Lani smiled and that earned her a smack on her arm from you.
“Stop thinkin nasty. I just want it because I think it’ll look good with all those backless clothes I got.” You admitted although the thought of it made your skin a little warm. “So what’s stopping you from getting it, bae? ‘Cause I’m excited like I’m getting it.” Marie gushed. “Can’t find a good artist around here who caters red ink for black people.” You shrugged.
It was tough trying to find tattoo artists in your city, much less those who work well with red ink. Most were extremely pricey, others worked with complicated pieces and only wanted pieces like portraits or lions or they just left you on read after attempting to make an appointment.
A moment passed by and Lani smacked your leg repeatedly as she came to a realisation. The look of unspoken excitement travelled between your friends and soon enough, you knew they were plotting something.
“Y/n, oh my goodness you genius!” Marie exclaimed and that made your eyebrows furrow even more with confusion.
“Okay, I am very confused by what is happening so I’m just going to grab another snack.” You voiced out and you couldn’t even move because both women held you down as they smiled like maniacs.
Lani nodded first then turned her head to look at you. “Okay okay. Y/n, we’ve got the perfect artist for you. D’you remember Lewis?” She grinned and you tried to think about it fully.
Lewis, Lewis…oh god, that Lewis. The incredibly beautiful man you met through your clearly unhinged friends at a housewarming party two years ago. He was that type of distant crush that would never go away even if you tried and it didn’t help that he was the quiet type who would hang out with your large friend group every now and then.
“…uh huh. What about him?” You replied, hoping that no one heard your voice almost falter at the mention of him. “He’s a tattoo artist! I don’t know how I forgot but that man just keeps to himself for real.” Lani chuckled before continuing. “But yeah anyways, he could do it for you!”
Never in a million years would you think that he would be a tattoo artist and funnily enough, his arm is filled with them. You actually had no clue what he did, always curious whenever you saw the G Wagon that he would hop into after any get-together was over.
“I don’t know, you guys. I’d have to talk to him first about everything and that seems like a lot. I don’t wanna bother the guy to squeeze in someone who has no clue what they’re doing-” You stopped your ramble once you realised that your friends were just staring at you.
“Girl, you never ramble like that unless you find a dude cute.” Marie teased as she watched you avoid eye contact with her. Smacking your lips, you shook your head and tried to appear like this news didn’t phase you.
So focused on the subject at hand, you didn’t notice that Lani was gone. Finally hearing the familiar clack of her heels, you looked up and your breath hitched. You had just denied even thinking about him but there stood Lewis, quietly chewing on his gum with a glint in his eyes as he looked at you.
With your hand still in Marie’s hold, she squeezed it as she stood up and moved to stand next to Lani. “Lewis, you remember Y/n, right? An absolute beaut.” Lani started. “Anywho, my good sis wants a tattoo and obviously, you came to my mind. Aight, see y’all later.” She continued and just like that, her and Marie disappeared.
“I’m sorry for them, they can get a lil crazy.” You spoke, offering your hand to him and he gently shook your hand with both of his large ones. “They’ve also had some green gummies so I get it.” He smiled and that alone, just sent you to another dimension.
He’s British. You made sure to make little notes along the way.
And he dressed incredibly well. Sleeveless white shirt, white cargos, air force ones and his huge tattooed arms on display. The jewellery making the outfit look all the more good.
It also didn’t help that your dress was the same shade of white as his entire outfit.
“Although we’ve briefly met before, I’m Lewis. Nice seeing you again.” He introduced himself, not breaking any eye contact with you and he could tell you weren’t expecting to see him. “Y/n. I’m sure those two already told you why they dragged you here,” You nervously smiled. “Didn’t wanna waste your time with my questions.”
“You’re good, love. Wanna sit down and talk about it?” Lewis asked, pointing to the couch you were just sitting on. This area of the house wasn’t crowded so you could hear each other clearly.
The nickname he called you by threw you into a loop, nodding at him as a response because you couldn’t come up with one on the spot.
The two of you went on to speak on everything revolving around the tattoo. Your experiences trying to find a good enough artist that you wanted to feel comfortable with, the placement of it and the design. There were all types of jokes thrown into the conversation, making you feel comfortable. He also listened, nodding and replying after you spoke.
“So I’ve got two options if I decide to chicken out of the dragon one.” You said, twiddling your fingers as you still avoided eye contact with Lewis. “Alright even though my favourite would have to be the dragon.” He winked, chewing his gum.
You flushed hearing him say that. You couldn’t imagine being naked in front of him, letting your body be a canvas he gets to work on. Of course you would like to be naked in another way but that couldn’t happen. He definitely has to have someone in his life. Would he though if he just winked at you? Or was he just playing with you because he can sense you’re shy-
“Y/n, love, you still with me?” Lewis worried a tad bit as he watched you zone out on him. Shaking yourself out of it, you were grounded by his eyes boring into yours. Clearing your throat slightly, you asked a different question. “Uh if I do go ahead with it, where will we be?”
“Right now, my studio is under renovations so I’ve got my home studio. Hope that’s okay with you, anything to help you be comfortable.” He reassured, sitting back and the sight of him just sitting so confidently had you squirming in your seat, having to cross your legs.
“That’s fine,” your voice reaching an octave higher than normal. “What was the other design, sweetie? Haven’t done a tattoo on a client in a while so I’m grateful that I’ll be the one who gets to work on this.” Lewis mentioned, watching you lose your train of thought everytime you two locked eyes and he found it quite endearing.
“…A lower back tattoo, preferably a word or a heart.” You muttered, Lani’s words running through your mind. Stop, you can’t think about that right now. “That’s a nice one.” He commented, tilting his head and admired your shyness.
Ever since he laid his eyes on you, Lewis had made it his mission to find a way to get with you. He was in awe everytime you would show at one of the many games nights or celebrations, looking effortlessly beautiful yet timid as well. He hadn’t known if you were single until a mutual friend mentioned you and blind dates in the same sentence.
Lewis thanked the universe for giving him the chance to do his favourite thing with the woman he had fancied.
After a bit more conversation, you had managed to get his number and bid goodbye to him, a very warm hug from him to you, and you hurried to your car to take several deep breaths afterwards. After not being intimate with anyone for a long while, you were embarrassed that a single conversation left you in a puddle with an all too familiar feeling in your stomach.
Consoling yourself whilst driving, you grew excited for the week ahead for the tattoo, of course.
-
Darting your eyes between your phone and the house you were currently parked outside of, you felt confused although your gps led you to the correct address.
“Sis c’mon, he wore a cartier bracelet like it was nothing.” You joked to yourself, trying to keep yourself at ease with the fact that your entire back will be filled with ink very soon.
Clearly the camera right by the gate was able to see you and the gate opened up for you. Finally parking next to the car you were familiar with, you fixed up your outfit. You tried walking to the front door with an excruciatingly slow pace to try and calm your nerves but as soon as Lewis opened the door, that all went out the window. His gaze was piercing as he leaned on the door frame, watching you twiddle with your nails and walk over to him with the same shy energy you held the other day.
“You can’t be lookin at people like that, Lewis.” You spoke with a slight smile, being welcomed into his large home. “Like how, Y/n?” He smiled as he closed the front door behind him, admiring every inch of your body.
“Like you wanna eat me alive.” You chuckled, choosing to not feel his glare on you after you said that. He chuckled as well, deciding to not comment and wanting you to be comfortable first.
“Anything you need before we start, love? You seem nervous.” Lewis asked, placing his hand on your back and lead you towards his home tattoo studio. An incredibly large room with decor that screamed Architectural Digest, the tattoo chair stitched with his initials ‘LH’ and a candle was lit, a ocean-like scent wafting through the air. You had told him that you liked that candle scent all those days ago and the fact that he remembered made you blush.
Low rnb music was playing and a calm atmosphere washed over you as soon as you entered the room.
“It’s my first big tattoo, of course i’m nervous about it.” You replied with a sigh, plopping down on the soft couch and placed your phone on the record player stand.
Playing with the band of your shorts, you knew he was looking at you from the doorway. “Also it’s a lil silly but I don’t even know if this shit will look good on me, y’know? I wanted this but i guess it’s just the nerves.” You continued.
Not even hearing him move from his spot, you lifted your head to see him crouched down in front of you. His tattooed hands landed on your thighs without breaking eye contact with you. “Can I tell you what I think?” He asked. All you could do was nod. He hadn’t touched you in the way you wanted but in an instant, you could feel a puddle forming.
“On you, it will be the best piece I’ve done because it was made to sit on your body. A canvas that people will get to admire, a canvas that you’ve given me the honour to work on.” He continued, hands barely moving from your legs.
Taking a breath, you finally got the strength to respond to what he said. “Are you always this poetic to your clients?” You tried to joke but his eyes were glued to yours, the same way he looked at you at the housewarming.
“It took me a while to garner the confidence to talk to you, to just be in your presence. Every time I had the luck to see you, I would cherish it because we wouldn’t be in the same room all the time. I want the time we have here to be meaningful. And before you make that adorable timid face, yes, I have always found you attractive.” He spoke and you were just speechless.
“Are you serious?” You managed to speak, your voice becoming softer the more you accepted everything he was saying.
“Would you like me to show you how serious I am about you?” Lewis shifted his legs so that he could kneel in front of you. You could see the truth in his eyes as he spoke, darting between your eyes and lips.
You whimpered and you couldn’t control it, his hold on you was so strong.
“I need your words, princess.”
“Please. Please show me, Lewis.” You whined out.
That was all it took for him to begin to reach for the band of your shorts but you put your hands on his to stop. His eyebrows furrowed and before he spoke, you went for it. “Kiss me.” You breathed out. Lewis stood to his full height then sat on the couch next to you, pulling you onto his lap.
You made the first move and leaned in, your lips moving together in sync as he kissed you passionately. His hand held the back of your neck, bringing even closer while his other hand trailed down your arched back.
Your whimpers echoed throughout his home studio as he pulled away from the kiss, watching you try and grind to get some sort of pleasure in. Gently putting his hands on your waist, he guided you and you gasped as you felt his length, long and hard. Just waiting for you.
It felt unbearable, a knot in your stomach needed to be released and you threw you head back, just wanting to wash over the arousal. Lewis watched how you pleasured yourself on him, your denim clothes restricting the both of you from connecting skin to skin. “You enjoying yourself, darling?” He licked his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes clouded with lust.
You wanted to respond, desperately, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. The warmth from the two of you became stronger, him leaning up to begin peppering kisses on your necks and not wanting to create any marks just yet. “..Yes.” You managed to breathe out and you loved the feeling of his large hands roaming around your body, not able to get enough of you.
Lewis held your hips firmly, halting your movement and that made you want to cry out of not getting a release. “Lewis, please.” You whined and he chuckled against your neck. “Take your clothes off and lie down, princess.” He said, looking at your cute angry face with a slight pout evident.
Instead of doing what he said, you just looked at him in the eyes clearly wanting to start a challenge. However, he knew his gaze made you weak. It was one of his many charms. All he had to do was slightly tilt his head and it had you standing up and slowly taking your clothes off, him following suit. You oggled at him, his tattoos gracefully placed on his skin making your mouth water.
With you laid down on the couch, he crawled up your body and crashed his lips into yours. He held your neck so gently as he kissed your jawline then your neck all the way down to where you needed him the most. Lewis laid between your legs to admire your clothed core, giving praise to your thighs and ass as he planted a kiss on your inner thighs.
“Oh shit…” you gasped as he started licking all around your clit until he planted his mouth on it, your moans bouncing off the walls as Lewis devoured you like you were his dinner. Sticking his tongue in and fucking you with it was really the cherry on top, your hand flying to his head to keep it in place and you ground into his face.
Screaming as he entered two fingers in your pussy, you felt a tear slide down at the immense pleasure he was giving you. It had been a very long time since someone had gone down on you but never had you orgasmed from head before. Until now.
Lewis licked you clean as he climbed up and kissed you so that you could taste yourself. You could tell he wanted to say something but you reached your hand to palm him through his pants, watching the different expressions on his face. Slapping the side of your thigh, he held your face.
“Bend over for me, princess.” With a smile on his face and you knew you were going to be here a while.
-
The buzzing of the tattoo gun sounded out through the room, Lewis wiped the dripping ink from his canvas. He was doing the last bit of work to fully complete his piece on you, the ink contrasting beautifully with your skin.
Finally switching it off and clearing his station to prepare for the clean up and to place the plastic cover on, he lightly smacked your ass to wake you up. “Darling, we’re finally done.” Lewis softly said, already focused on the clean up.
You hummed, “That’s amazing, baby. Thank you.” You spoke all drowsy from the nap you took earlier and the buzzing feeling of your body even after the tattooing gun isn’t touching your skin. Not to mention the sativa joint you smoked together before the final session.
You and Lewis kept this arrangement going, him saying that once he finished his artwork on your back, he’d take you on a date to wherever you want to go and you agreed. The mutual crush you had on each other transcended to a different level, becoming almost domestic every moment you spent together.
“Can I see it?” You asked, rising up from the chair and you looked at him while batting your eyelashes. “Of course you can, princess.” Lewis leaned down to peck your lips then led you to the mirror. You gasped when you saw your dream tattoo, sitting perfectly on your back and your mind was running wild with thoughts already.
“The backshots with this tattoo are going to be amazing.” You giggled and he just rolled his eyes. “Okay that’s enough weed for you, baby.” Lewis chuckled then lightly tapped your ass.
“You were thinking it though!”
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saint’s notes 🪩: mind you this has been sitting here since feb 🧍🏽‍♀️. this is dedicated to @mauvecherie-writes , thank you for your patience fren 🤭 and yes the monaco fit made me go feral.
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mionemymind · 1 day
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Chapter 3: Choosing for You
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My Rival Series
Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.
Chapter Summary: The competition is here. Who will be the winner?
A/n: This was a long chapter, honestly might rewrite it, but here it is with all its mistakes and glories. And I'm sorry if you've asked to be tagged and wasn't included in this post, I'm posting this from work because I promised to give y'all something. (Gif credits to @elizabetholsens)
Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Mentions of Puking, Memory Loss, Panic Attack
Word Count: 7.2k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
Fall Semester - Freshman Year
“Why does winning matter so much to you?” Winning hardly had rewards in life. Sure, there was sometimes money involved on the line but other than financial gain, winning was mainly there to feed the ego. For Natasha, she never viewed Y/n as someone that cared about being number one in life. Based on the few phone calls she overheard, the university felt like a getaway from troubles at home. So why did Y/n even want to win? 
The brown eyed girl sat in confusion. Her pencil was still as she wracked her brain for an answer. By all means, winning is fun. Back in high school, Y/n would naturally win things that being number one felt like home at that point. But having moved on from that mentality, winning wasn’t quite the same in Evergreen University. Well, it’s not like she had a chance to feel it when Wanda Maximoff was around. 
“If I’m being honest…I don’t think I’ve ever worked for a win in my life before.” The two locked eyes as Y/n softly confessed what was long on her mind. She placed her pencil down and gave Natasha her undivided attention. “Studying has never been my thing before up until now. Don’t get me wrong, I quite hate it, but it feels different now. Like if I just beat her once, then that high will be like nothing ever before.” 
“Does she really challenge you that much?” The question sunk into Y/n’s brain and into her deeper subconscious. She sat quietly, overthinking her answer. 
“I think…she’s the only one that ever challenged me at all.” 
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Competition Day - Spring Semester - Junior Year 
‘Why does winning feel so wrong?’ Y/n looked in the mirror, splashing small bits of water on her face to help wake herself up. Rolling her neck, she could feel how stiff her bones were from last night. Unfortunately, the bus was no help at all, only providing mild comfort on their four hour journey. 
Stepping out the bathroom, Y/n wore the tightly pressed and cleaned uniform as Wanda started her speech for the group. “I want to thank you all for joining us today at this competition. For some of you, this is your first time ever attending the conference while for others, you are returning. Regardless, you’ve all earned your spots on this team, so congratulate yourself for that.” 
A couple of applauses were heard as Wanda smiled at the team. She briefly glanced to Y/n who was sitting all the way at the back of the bus. “I know that this bus is carrying some of the brightest minds that Evergreen University has to offer. Without a doubt in my mind, I know we can win this competition.”
Y/n looked away to the view of the hotel where the conference took place. The turmoil in her gut was hard to ignore as she focused on other things besides Wanda’s eyes. ‘Winning is a must. If I want to come back to her here, then I need to win.’ 
“However, winning is not always the priority. Overall, I’ve been more than happy to see everyone grow into their strengths and even improve your weaknesses. Your efforts have been highly noted by both of your captains.” Y/n looked back at Wanda, her stare as confident as ever. 
“We want to thank you all for all the nights, practices, and energy you’ve committed to be in this competition.” Wanda looked over as the bus entered the garage of the hotel. “Okay, everyone come in for a quick send off.” 
Everyone gathered into a huddle, placing their hands in the middle. “On three - one - two - three - Evergreen! Fight! Fight! Fight!” Their hands lifted into the air as Wanda looked at Y/n with a determined smile. 
‘I’m going to win.’ The brunette thought as she stared into those brown eyes, but little did she know the costs of this win.
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The hotel was massive. It was honestly a surprise at how many schools can fit into one place. Some had to fly in, having been more than five hours away. The group followed Wanda to the selected tables meant for Evergreen University. 
“Break into your groups, Y/n and I will be investigating the brackets to see who we will be versing first. We have about an hour before round one is officially called. If you need to change or use the bathroom, this is definitely the time to do so. If you have any questions or concerns, please let Y/n and/or I know immediately.” 
Doing as told, the members immediately broke into their four person group and discussed strategies for round one. When no one came up to ask any questions, the pair walked off out of the conference room, and into the large hall that had many posters hung up with all the different brackets. 
There was a small but comfortable silence as Wanda walked slightly ahead from Y/n, focusing on finding out who they were versing first. While Y/n was also thinking of the competition, she wondered if they were ever going to talk about last night. 
Walking up to the first bracket they could find, Wanda took a picture of it and sent it to the math club group chat for everyone to see. “Princewell University, Maroon State College, and Gale College, not a bad start. Looks like we’re going to easily make it into the second round.” 
Since Y/n was unable to sleep last night, she made use of her time by looking over the bracket. Going over the many possibilities, there was still a high chance of her group making it to the top five. Round one was thankfully full of easy opponents having judged their previous matches with other schools. 
“I agree. Looks like our main trouble is with Harford University. But they’re all the way at the otherside. I’m hoping Legacy College takes care of them so we don’t have to,” Wanda comments. She turned to face Y/n, taking a good look at her clean uniform and brushed hair. 
“I need you to be on your A-game today.” Unsure of where Wanda’s seriousness was coming from, Y/n nodded in understanding. “If you can give me that, I’ll overlook this morning.” 
Puzzled by her statement, Y/n asked, “What are you talking about?” Wanda crossed her arms, trying her best to be level headed at the moment. 
“You wreaked alcohol. Last night was a supposed to be a get together, not an opportunity to get drunk.” The judgment coming from Wanda’s tone felt like a slap in the face as Y/n took one step back. 
“Are you kidding me? I took one drink. I wasn’t the one that was drunk last night. Are you seriously remembering the same night as me?” The small moment with Wanda was all that Y/n replayed in that moment. 
‘Apologize and I’ll forgive you for everything - apologize and I’ll let go of this whole feud.’ Whether Y/n was going to loudly admit it or not, the small ounce that she saw of Wanda’s true personality changed her view of the brunette. Even if the conversation was small, even if Wanda didn’t hear her response, even if it was a drunk confession, Y/n was going to cling to it. 
Wanda was always the girl that was number one but in that small moment, Wanda was just a girl who wanted to win for the sake of not disappointing her father. Because God, how could someone ever be disappointed in Wanda Maximoff? And how could they not see just how amazing she was? 
But as Wanda rolled her eyes, and hardened her stare, Y/n knew none of that moment mattered to Wanda, not when her green eyes still showed some form of hatred. “I remember last night clearly. Everyone in the group arrived and managed to say check in with me. You were the only one in the group that I didn’t even get to see. Once it was late, I went back to my dorm and slept. But it’s obvious why you avoided me - you were too busy drinking rather than focusing on the competition.”
“That’s not-”
“I don’t want to hear your explanation. Your team deserves a good leader and if you can’t provide that, I’ll make sure that math club will be looking for a replacement captain next semester.” The pounding in Wanda’s head was hard to ignore as she walked away from Y/n, not even bothering to hear her side. 
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‘Focus. Everything will be alright if you just focus.’ The ringing in Y/n’s ears was louder than the judge in front of her. The question left his lips almost slipped past the girl but thankfully her teammate, Luke, was paying attention, easily answering the question. 
“Another point for Evergreen University, which solidifies their victory for this match!” Cheers erupted from the crowd as each group got up, giving the other members handshakes for the great match. 
‘I can’t fucking focus.’ Y/n wore a fake smile as she congratulated the other captain on the team, quickly walking off the stage. Ever since her interaction with Wanda, her nervousness and anxiety came back in full throttle. Her mind went from completely tired to panic. And while her drive to win increased, it came with overthinking as well. 
“That was a great match everyone! I’m so proud of you all for being so great for these four rounds that I haven’t had to worry one bit.” Well Y/n did worry, just not for her team’s sake. “I’m going to go ahead and let the staff know about our victory. In the meantime, go ahead and relax at our table. After the fifth round, let me know if y’all want snacks. I can go ahead and purchase them for everyone.” 
“Thank you Y/n. We appreciate it!” Luke stated, he was a returning member of the competition, one that Y/n knew well. Letting the group walk away, Y/n finally brought her guard down as she walked out of the conference room and to the direction of the staff booth. 
‘I can’t believe I fucking froze.’ Y/n knew the question was for her, yet she had to rely on her team member for something she could’ve easily answered. Wiping her frustrations off her face, Y/n tried to compose herself before she approached the staff. 
“School, team, and placement?” The lady wore rectangle shaped glasses. She offered Y/n a kind smile, ready to write the results. 
“Evergreen University, team two, and we won our match.” Y/n peeped her name tag, Laura, as she wrote down the results. 
“Looks like you’ll be versing Apollo College next in conference room seven.” Laura handed Y/n a slip of paper with the information before calling next. 
Shoving the paper in her pocket, Y/n walked past several conference rooms, their doors open for anyone to watch their matches. None of them interested her, but her voice certainly did. Stopping at the entrance of the doors, Y/n watched Wanda flawlessly answer the question. 
The bright light focusing on her group amplified her natural beauty. Y/n could pick up on every single detail, something she already knew like the back of her hand. Her jaw clenched as she noticed Wanda's smile, the same type of smile she had when she got hundreds on tests. 
The anger inside Y/n manifested once more. She could legitimately feel herself start to boil the more she stared at Wanda. It was dangerously coming close to the anger she felt when she lashed out at Natasha that one night. 
Clenching her fists, Y/n walked away from the match, unable to stand Wanda any further with thoughts of winning in her mind. 
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‘You’re making mistakes.’ Wanda stood in the crowd with her arms crossed. The displeased look on her face was hard to miss as she witnessed Y/n make her third mistake of the match, causing another precious point to be missed. Her brain rushed through many thoughts of disappointment towards the girl she used to hold to a high regard. 
‘This isn’t like her.’ But the frown on Wanda’s face deepened, did she really know Y/n at all? Yes, she can admit that Y/n was smart. Smarter than a lot of people at their university. But other than that obvious characteristic, Y/n was admittedly someone she only knew at surface level. They’ve hardly spoken outside classes or math club. Essentially, she was just a stranger that was smart. 
Shaking away the sadness that was snaking through her, Wanda watched as Y/n sat back in her seat. 
The shame that Y/n carried on her shoulders felt massive along with the anxiety that continued to paralyze her more and more. The brown eyed girl was certain of her answer, so when the judge loudly announced that she gotten it wrong, embarrassment flooded her senses knowing that Wanda was in the crowd, silently judging her every move. 
It all came down to the final question of the match. Whoever answers correctly will have to verse Wanda’s team. Luke, once again, got up, ready to answer the question. All eyes were on him besides Wanda and Y/n. 
As the two finally locked eyes, Y/n couldn’t help but drown further in Wanda’s rage. ‘Forget everything I ever said - I do fucking hate you, Wanda Maximoff. And I hope you never forget that.’
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“We need to talk.” Celebrations for Evergreen University were deaf to Wanda’s ears as she held Y/n’s wrist. Quickly, she led them out the crowd and through the near empty hallway outside the conference room. Dropping her wrist, Wanda stood there fuming with anger. 
“What was that?” Y/n didn’t want to speak, unsure of what would be the ‘correct’ choice of words for the brunette. And by the looks of it, nothing was going to satisfy her. Choosing to be silent anger Wanda ever further. 
“This isn’t the time to be childish - you’re making mistakes and if it wasn’t for your team, you wouldn’t have had this spot in the finals.” Y/n clenched her jaw as she bit her tongue. Sure she made mistakes, but it hurt Y/n to realize that Wanda didn’t even care for the ways she did contribute to the team. 
Mistakes were permanent for the girl that was always perfect. That was something Y/n realized now more than ever. 
“Can you not let go of three mistakes, Captain?” Y/n continued to stare off at the other side of the hallway, refusing to make eye contact with Wanda. Her words sneered off her mouth, feeling disgusted at the way Wanda ridiculed her every move. 
“Un-fucking-believable. Dean Holloway was right.” At the mention of the Dean, Y/n’s blood ran cold. Her eyes locked with Wanda’s, as the brunette stood there. “You take everything as some type of joke. And to think I stood up for you.” 
Y/n’s mind scrambled on what possibly happened between Dean Holloway and Wanda. ‘Does she know about my scholarship?’
But why on Earth would Wanda assume such things if she knew about her scholarship? Pressing for more information, Y/n asked, “What did he say?”
Wanda rolled her eyes. ‘Of course that’s what she would focus on rather than her own mistakes.’ Looking at the time, there were twenty minutes left before the final. The brunette should have been using this time to help practice with her team, yet here she was arguing with Y/n. 
“Last week,” Wanda sighed. This all felt pointless to admit but she felt that Y/n needed to know. Maybe this could be what straightened up her act. “Dean Holloway asked me to reconsider your place in this competition.” 
“What?” Y/n took a step back at the confession, feeling more hopeless at how rigged everything was. ‘How could he do this to me?” 
“I told him that I could trust you - that you were the only person besides me adequate enough to lead the math club. Somehow, he managed to let me know that you were slipping in classes. No longer being at the top.” Wanda looked at Y/n. She focused on all the minor details of the face that haunted her mind. But upon seeing how hurt those brown eyes looked, Wanda couldn’t help but falter slightly. 
“I wanted to believe that it was all wrong, but now…” Y/n silently pleaded as her mind went into overdrive. Couldn’t Wanda see how innocent she was? How she had been studying day and night for weeks just to make it another year at Evergreen? Couldn’t she see that this was all for her? 
“I think we should go back to our groups. We need to prepare for the final. But Y/l/n…after this competition, we might have to reconsider your place as captain for math club.” 
How cruel the world must be for the universe to deal Y/n such a bad draw? And how awful it must feel to know that Wanda was the one that delivered the final blow? 
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‘I have to win for me.’ Water dripped down Y/n’s face as she stared at herself in the mirror. There was five minutes left before she was expected to take the stage. Currently, Y/n was in the bathroom, hoping to subside the panic attack that was itching to come out. 
‘Even if the school doesn’t want me, even if Wanda doesn’t want me, I want this more than anyone.’ Gripping the counter for stability, Y/n slowed her breathing down, hoping it would be enough. She wasn’t going to let the world decide her fate even if it had cheated her of a fair opportunity. 
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“Welcome everyone for the final match for the annual math club state competition. I’m thrilled to announce that this year’s top two teams both come from Evergreen University!” Applause rumbled throughout the large conference room as the rest of the school's watch in anticipation. 
Wanda sat in her seat, overthinking her conversation with Y/n earlier. ‘Did I go overboard?’ Sneaking a glance at Y/n, it was hard to get a read of what the brown eyed girl was thinking. ‘Whatever, she needed to know.’
Pushing her thoughts to the back, the brunette focused back on the competition. It was finally her turn to go up as well as Y/n’s. 
“Please find the inverse of the following equation.” Like a switch, everything in Wanda’s mind grew silent as she focused on the question on the screen. In seconds flat, she hit the buzzer to submit her answer. 
“And the correct answer choice was…C, point goes to team # 1.” This was Wanda’s element - this was her reason for being. Glancing at Y/n, Wanda knew her purpose. She was number one and god forbid anyone that stood in her way. 
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The competition went by like a blur. In the first quarter of questions, Wanda’s team led with a gap of seven points. However, after a couple small mistakes by her team members, Y/n’s team was able to catch up and shorten the gap. 
Right now, there are only five questions left. The score remained tied as Y/n tried her best to remain perfect. If things were to continue the way they were, the last question would determine the winner. 
Before she knew it, it was finally her turn. Standing up to take the podium, Y/n glanced at Wanda accidentally locking eyes. ‘I will be the one to defeat you, Maximoff. I will make sure of it.’
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Fall Semester - Freshman Year 
“I’ve never seen you study so much before. It’s kinda freaky.” The two roommates sat around the small circular table in the middle of the room, enjoying a couple of drinks and snacks. Natasha begged for Y/n to stop for at least a small break, having missed talking to her roommate. 
“Trust me, I hate it just as much as you do.” Y/n stretched her legs at her sat position. Rolling her neck around, a couple of pops and clicks could be heard. 
“Why do it? Your grades are fine the way they are.” Y/n looked back at the pile of books on her desk. She never really recalled studying this much before during her high school days. Heck, she’s been able to get by this whole time just by how naturally smart she was. So when she looked back at Natasha, there was this ‘ya know’ look in Y/n’s eyes. “Does it have to do with Wanda?”
Y/n smiled at the mention of the brunette. It was odd at how many classes they were in together even though their majors were entirely different. There was something about Wanda that caught Y/n’s eye. She didn’t quite know what it was and didn’t quite want to delve too much into it. 
“And if it does?” Y/n sipped on her drink, a smirk on her face as she avoided Natasha’s question. The red head shook her head, grabbing a chip.
“Well - you speak of her like she’s a God.” Eating a couple more, Natasha watched as the glimmer in Y/n’s eye brightened every time the brunette was brought up. Like the simple mention of Wanda could make Y/n smile instantly. 
“Wrong, Wanda’s not a God. Gods make mistakes,” getting closer to Natasha’s face, the red head could smell the faint of alcohol on Y/n’s lips, “and Wanda Maximoff does not make mistakes.” 
Y/n leaned back, still drinking the rest of her drink as Natasha looked at her roommate with a puzzled look. “Whatever you say. Just try not to make this a habit now.”
Y/n shook her head, feeling optimistic that she’d beat Wanda soon enough. Probably in the same semester. “I won’t. Promise.” 
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“Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time in our state’s history the competition’s fate lied in the last question.” The crowd applauded for the accomplishment as the judges beamed in smiles towards Evergreen University. “.As your judges, we believe this calls for a special problem. We’ve rewritten the last question to make it a more challenging problem.”
“With one point in the lead, if Wanda answers the question correctly, her team will solidify the win. If Y/n answers the question correctly, this competition will proceed to overtime.” 
Y/n and Wanda stood at their podiums, anticipation both killing them. “Here is your question.” 
As the screen showed off the problem, Y/n could feel herself standing tall as she looked over the problem. It was a multistep calculus problem that involved finding the inverse of a 3x3 matrix. Essentially, a problem that would require two pages of work just to find a solution. And by the looks of it, Wanda was already finished with the first quarter of the work. 
Calming her breathing down, Y/n cleared the noise from her head.  She looked back at the problem, digesting all of what it told. ‘This is just another problem, Y/n.’ Thinking lightly back to the days where math was just a fun activity to do, Y/n finally smiled, remembering the feeling where math naturally came to her. 
Letting the feeling sink in, Y/n started to solve it. The crowd waited with whispers and talks of who was going to win. Many people in the crowd believed Wanda would secure another victory as she did in the past. Very few people cheered for Y/n, simply wanting to believe in the underdog. 
A few minutes later, Y/n approached the final bits of her answer, immediately eyeing the answer choice on the screen. Her heart skipped a beat realizing that she could do this - that she could win. 
Before she could reach out for the answer, Wanda had buzzed in first with her choice. Suddenly, everything inside Y/n shut down as she saw Wanda smile once again. It was that infamous smile that she grew so used to. 
‘This can’t be it. This can’t be the end.’ Feeling herself lock up again, Y/n didn’t dare to look at the screen, hoping to save some of her dignity that was barely left. 
Believing the world to be crashing in front of her, she failed to realize that Wanda had made a mistake. The screen glowed in bright red as her answer choice was incorrect. “Y/n, looks like the question is left to you. You haven’t locked in your answer, so what will it be?” 
Y/n looked up, unable to digest that Wanda actually messed up. The Wanda Maximoff made a mistake. Fighting back the smile on her face, Y/n reached out for the correct answer choice, her finger tips grazing answer choice B. 
The smug look on her face was hard to miss. Everyone on her team knew they would come home with the victory. Wanda’s team sighed in defeat knowing that Y/n would answer correctly. 
So why did everything change when Y/n glanced at Wanda? Why did her heart hurt at the sight of Wanda spilling angry and frustrated tears? Why did her breathing stop? And why did all thoughts consume her? 
Wanda never cried or at least in front of Y/n or anybody. She was always the strong and confident girl that knew every answer for every question. She walked like she was untouchable. So how did she mess up? 
‘Please stop crying,’ she thought. Her heart constricted knowing she was the reason Wanda was crying. Yet every ounce of her brain yelled for her to press the damn answer, to finally prove to Wanda that she could be defeated, to finally get the win that she had been craving for since freshman year. 
So why couldn’t she just fucking press it? Looking back at the crowd and at the answer written down on her paper, her free hand crumpled the sheet as her heart overtook what her mind pleaded. 
Feeling like time stopped, Y/n held her breath when those green eyes locked with her. ‘I want to win…I want to stay…but at the cost of this…this isn’t a win.’ 
Beyond logic and reason, Y/n pressed her answer. Confetti blew in the air as the judge announced, “And the winner is team # 1 with Wanda Maximoff as their team captain. Congratulations to Evergreen University!” 
Regardless of what Wanda had ever done, said, or thought, Y/n knew that today was all because the school wanted to so badly pin Wanda against her. But Y/n finally knew better. This will not be the day she wins. This will be the day she was finally okay to be second to Wanda. 
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Many cheers and laughter filled the bus as the group celebrated the Evergreen University win. Wanda had been smiling so hard since the award ceremony that her cheeks started to hurt.
As she looked over the trophy, her eyes couldn’t stop looking at the sleeping figure near the back of the bus. ‘I almost lost it,’ Wanda thought. It was unlike her to make a mistake and if she was being honest, she didn’t know what to blame. 
As much as she wanted to overlook her work, she wanted to leave that mistake in the past and enjoy the win. But as she kept looking back to Y/n, who hadn’t said a word to her since the final match, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like something was wrong. 
Regardless, the drive back to Evergreen was filled with joy as Y/n finally slept after a long exhausting day. 
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Finals Week - Spring Semester - Junior Year
Wanda loved winning…but lately, it had a sour taste in her mouth. Finals week came in full swing, giving zero time for Wanda to dissect this weird feeling in her chest. She had helped some of her friends and classmates with studying, making her even more busy than usual. 
By the time she was done with tests, the sour feeling still sat in her chest. With only two days left, Wanda couldn’t help but lose some sleep over this feeling. Why was winning suddenly so bad? When did it become something she felt guilty for? 
Subconsciously, her mind gravitated towards Y/n. In her dreams, the moment before Y/n answered the final question replayed constantly. It was as if her mind took a vivid recording of the whole interaction. And as she replayed the moment she locked eyes with Y/n, Wanda couldn’t help but feel like the trophy wasn’t meant for her. 
Of course she downplayed the scenario, believing that this was another mistake that Y/n had made for that day. And the words of Dean Holloway, this was something Y/n never took seriously. So why did she vividly remember how Y/n’s eyes looked the moment she had chosen her answer? Why did Y/n look so accepting of defeat? Why was there no anger or thrive behind them? 
And the more she thought, the more she realized how little she saw of Y/n during the whole week. Friday, the last day of the semester, came around. During the test, her mind suddenly diverted to her. So when Wanda looked up and found Y/n in the crowd, she couldn’t help but want to talk to her, to see what exactly happened in that moment. 
Was it something she made up in her head? Was she feeling weird for actually making a mistake in front of people? Was this blown out of proportion? 
Regardless, Wanda didn’t dare describe this feeling as part of missing Y/n. Cause if she had, maybe she would have realized sooner that winning felt wrong this time. Because maybe, just maybe, it had pushed away the person that actually understood her better than anyone else. 
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Last Night - Spring Semester - Junior Year
Y/n Y/l/n,
We regret to inform you that your scholarship has been revoked for the following 2019 fall semester. This decision was not made lightly as the board is aware of the accomplishments you’ve brought to Evergreen University. Nevertheless, the requirement to place #1 in the most recent STEM competition was something we could not ignore. 
We do hope you decide to enroll for your senior year. For further information on financial aid or loan applications, please visit the Bursar’s office. 
Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences
Cedric Holloway 
Evergreen University
The letter sat on the Y/n’s near empty desk as she continued to pack in preparation for tomorrow. It was the last night on campus for every student. While many chose to celebrate it with a party, Y/n chose to spend it alone. 
The silence of her room provided some comfort as she cleared her bookshelf. “Why must I have so many books?” 
While Y/n never imagined this would be where her college career with Evergreen ended, she certainly never regretted her choice. Then again, she hadn’t been home in forever, so that may change soon once she goes back. 
Looking back at Natasha’s fully furnished side, Y/n could feel some guilt rising to her chest as she hadn’t broken the news yet to her best friend. Not wanting to burden the red head with a sad night, Y/n remained silent, hoping tomorrow would be best to break the news. 
As for Y/n’s group, none of them were particularly angry about her mistake. Everyone tried their best to cheer their captain up, providing some comforting smiles and words. None of it truly mattered though. This was Y/n’s choice to make and she fully knew the consequences of it. 
So for the first time in a while, Y/n was actually alone and not studying. That was until she came. Wanda stood in the hallway, thinking of how she would talk to Y/n, to hopefully apologize. She carried the trophy that was mailed in from the conference, one that actually had her name engraved on it. 
But the trophy felt heavy and awkward in her hands, but it was the closest thing Wanda could think of as a conversation starter. Pushing her anxieties away, Wanda walked to Y/n’s dorm, surprised that the door was actually opened. 
The first thing she noticed was the pile of boxes that almost blocked the doorway. Looking past it, Wanda couldn’t help but notice how bare Y/n’s side looked. 
“What are you doing?” Y/n jumped from the corner of her room, hand on her chest.
 “Jesus Christ, Maximoff, can you give a girl a warning?” 
Wanda placed the trophy in the hallway, and walked around Y/n’s room, not caring for an invitation inside. Thinking back to the dorm setup, Evergreen University typically had students stay in the same dorm assigned to them from freshman year all the way to junior year. During senior year, students would be upgraded to bigger dorms. 
“I thought you couldn’t transfer dorms till senior year was closer?” Wanda turned around to face Y/n, the empty side didn’t make sense as juniors typically left their items alone throughout the summer. 
Y/n’s eyes glanced at the letter on her desk. “I’m moving to a new scenery.” She picked up the box with her knick knacks and placed it on top of the letter, hoping Wanda didn’t notice. The brown eyed girl leaned against her desk. She tilted her head noticing the shiny object in the hallway. 
“Is that the trophy?” Wanda looked back, almost forgetting what she came here to do. She walked back to the hallway and grabbed the trophy. Their fingers brushed as Wanda handed it to Y/n. “Wow! It’s…it’s really beautiful.” 
Y/n rubbed her thumb across Wanda’s name. Wanda Maximoff 2019 Champion. “Congratulations by the way. Sorry I wasn’t able to say it back on stage.” Y/n handed the trophy back to Wanda. If the girl was paying attention, she would’ve noted the odd look Wanda gave her. 
Something was different and Wanda hated it. Winning always gave her a high but something about this interaction increased the bittersweet feeling in her chest. “What dorm hall are you relocating to?” Wanda placed the trophy on Y/n’s desk. “I could help you out if you need it.” 
Already ready to help out, Wanda lifted the box of knick knacks, her fingers brushing over the letter. “Wanda-,” Y/n startled herself, not expecting to nearly yell at Wanda, “I- I -” 
No words left Y/n’s mouth as those green eyes stared back at her. Suddenly, all those times where they yelled in each other's face came to mind. How close were they to ever…? 
Y/n sighed, there was no use hiding from the truth now. “I’m actually going back home.” Wanda placed the box back down, still not understanding why Y/n’s things were packed. “I’m-” 
Y/n scratched the back of her neck, avoiding Wanda’s stare. “I’m transferring to Langford University.” An eerie silence settled in Y/n’s room. So when Y/n got the courage to look back at Wanda, she hadn’t expected the teary eyes and offended look on Wanda’s face.
“You’re transferring? Why?” Moving off the desk, Y/n sat on her bed as Wanda leaned back on to the desk. “It’s - complicated. I really don’t want to go into it.” 
Wanda’s hand balled up into a fist. The lack of details pissed her off. “You’re seriously not coming back?” Wanda hated how bitter everything tasted. The sight of her trophy pissed her off even more. 
Y/n opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to say. She was leaving what she called home for the past three years. Not only that, she was leaving the girl that has been there since her first day. What could she even say?
Before she could admit anything, Y/n’s phone rang, breaking the tense atmosphere. “Sorry, let me take this real quick.” Y/n walked out to the hallway to answer her phone. 
Wanda sighed with her head hung low. What was she going to do now? Being #1 was something her parents always pressured her to do. But ever since she met Y/n, #1 was something that motivated her to get out of bed and start the day extra early. Meeting Y/n meant countless hours studying just to make sure she knew the lessons by heart. Meeting Y/n meant her life revolved around beating the girl in every single thing. And as harsh as it sounded, it was the only way Wanda knew to get closer. 
She turned around and glanced at the open box. There was a various amount of figurines, crystals, and journals thrown in. Wanda picked up a green crystal, one that almost matched her eyes. She remembered the day back in freshman year where Y/n had admitted she recently got into collecting crystals. Wanda thought at first it was a waste of money until she stopped by a local shop. 
The red head could see why it was intriguing to buy them especially when you believe the auras and specialities that a certain rock can bring to your life. So in secret, Wanda bought a sphere of rose quartz and placed it in her room. She didn’t notice anything different in her life but then again, all her thoughts already surrounded Y/n. 
Wanda looked back at the hallway and could hear Y/n still talking on the phone. It felt wrong to steal, especially since that was a no no in the crystal community. But the idea of Y/n leaving her without a single thing to keep for herself felt cruel. So when she slipped on the necklace, as if it already belonged to her, she could feel her heart skip a beat at the thought of Y/n giving it to her. 
Wanda tucked the crystal under her shirt when her fingers brushed the letter once more. The school logo printed on the top right called her name. It felt wrong to intrude, but the more she reminded herself of the situation, the less she cared about her morals. 
Gently sliding the letter from under the box, Wanda quickly read it. Eyebrows furrowed, Wanda read “We regret to inform you…”
Y/n shuffled back into the room causing Wanda to straighten up. “Sorry about that. I need to get Natasha. She’s stuck at some frat party without a ride back home.” The brunette crumpled the piece of paper and tucked it into her pocket.  Y/n was too distracted to notice. “Again, I’m really sorry but congratulations on the win Wanda.” Y/n looked at Wanda with the most sincere eyes. “Incase no one has told you, I’m really proud of you.” 
With one last look, Y/n left her dorm, hoping the Wanda would be decent enough to lock it up for her. And all Wanda could focus on was the sound of her name leaving Y/n’s lips. ‘You never call me Wanda.’
-------------
‘Like hell I’m going to let this happen.’ Wanda stormed into her father’s office, knowing he would be working another late night. The clear warm glow from his room indicated that he was there. 
Storming through the doors caused him to look up from his computer, clearly unexpecting guests at that moment. 
“Give her scholarship back.” Wanda slammed the letter onto his desk, crossing her arms hoping to show that she wasn’t messing around. The brunette couldn’t think straight about anything after she fully read the letter, and by now, she didn’t know whether to strangle Y/n for not telling her or for her father to even approve such decisions. 
“This decision was not made lightly.” Wanda could read past her father’s sentence and she was not going to take no for an answer. 
“Then clearly you’ve made the wrong decision.” Eric sighed knowing just how stubborn his daughter was. It was unfortunately a trait she got from him. Knowing fully well just how smart Wanda was, explaining this decision was going to be a disaster and a headache away. 
Looking past the letter and into his daughter’s eyes, he’s never seen her be this angry. Sure they’ve had arguments, but they’ve subsided ever since she started to attend college. Eric was hoping it was because Wanda was getting older and more mature. 
But as she stood there, eyebrows furrowed with a frown on her face, it felt like she was 16 all over again. Not wanting to beat around the bush, Eric figured to cut to the chase. 
“She’s a threat.” He didn’t like to admit it, but there was hardly anyone on campus that could match his daughter’s intelligence. This was something Eric wanted to keep. But the more he noticed Y/n move up on the Dean’s list, the more he feared Wanda’s spot would be threated. While he was confident in his daughter’s ability, he simply wanted to keep her spot safe. And that meant dealing with Y/n.
“She’s my equal.” All the guilt from the competition finally made sense. And as more things continued to click, the more Wanda stood in horror at the things she said to Y/n. This was all starting to become a nightmare, one that Wanda prayed to go away. But the look on her father’s face pissed her off even more. “If you don’t, I’m transferring. And there’s nothing you can do that will stop me.” 
Giving him no time to respond, Wanda walked out of the office. There was no time to think about her ultimatum, not when all she could think about was Y/n. 
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‘Say something to her, Wanda, for fucks sake.’ It was finally the last day of the semester. Every student was mandated to leave by a certain time. While there was a large crowd of kids with their backpacks and suitcases, all Wanda could focus on was the goodbye happening between Natasha and Y/n.
The brunette had stayed up all night figuring out ways to get Y/n’s scholarship back. At one point, she even considered paying for Y/n’s tuition herself if it meant getting her to come back. But her father would immediately block her allowance if he caught wind of this. 
So far, she hadn’t gotten a response back from him. ‘Maybe he needs more time.’ But time was running out as Natasha helped Y/n with the last box. Percy was already in the driver seat, ready for the long drive back home. 
She could overhear their goodbyes and that Natasha would visit soon to hear the full story. But still, Wanda stood paralyzed, unable to move. ‘What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if I was too mean to her?’ 
And as Y/n got into the car, waving her goodbyes, Wanda stood behind the tree, clutching on to the only thing she had of Y/n. Tears quietly fell down her cheeks, a lingering question on her mind. ‘Did I push you away when you needed me the most?’ 
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painted-bees · 2 days
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Sometimes you just need to be held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to you.
I mentioned before how Raf doesn't really get anxious before a show, and genuinely enjoys performing on stage--but that the most difficult part of a performance for him are the hours right after a show has finished, starting from the moment he walks off the stage.
Almost every single time, no matter how fun or well executed a performance was, there's a kind of quiet terror that follows him off the stage like a dark shadow and infects him once he's left the safety of the stage lights.
He becomes uncharacteristically furtive, and while he will answer when spoken to, his responses are simple, short, with a kind of sharpness in tone that suggests a level of defensiveness. Like a child awaiting a harsh scolding. Because that's kinda...what he is, in that moment. He is waiting to be kept awake into the early hours of the morning by a lecture about what he did, what he didn't do, what he should have done differently, what needs to be improved upon before the next time. Or he's waiting to be told that he's gonna be on his own for a few days, because the people who are supposed to love and take care of him are "too disappointed to fairly manage him" right now. Or he's waiting to be dragged into a busy room populated by strangers he's supposed to impress while he's casually, conversationally picked apart in front of them by the person who brought him there in the first place; the person who wanted to show him off.
It's a frustrating reaction to have...He's not a child, he's a grown ass man--and he owes venue staff, and his bandmates, and everyone else backstage a modicum of respect and kindness, and to thank them for their work, and to revel in the completion of a good show. But he's not really...he can't do that. He comes off as quietly despondent at best, or kind of a stuck up asshole at worst. When he did shows with Lacey, she called it his "post-performance tantrums" and exercised very little patience for his 'immature sulkiness' following concerts. And the low mood would persist for a solid week then after.
Once he started doing shows and stuff with Margie, she'd initially wonder if his poor mood was because she had done something wrong, or didn't meet expectations, if it was a bad show.... It wouldn't be until the following day before Raf could find himself in a state of mind where he's able to explain what he's feeling, much less why. And...for whatever reason, he's reticent to offer the most simple explanation to her--because saying "it's a ptsd thing, just give me space and patience and don't take it personally because it's nothing to do with you" comes with the risk of being asked other questions about himself and his upbringing that he's not comfortable getting into and--it's a whole thing, in his mind. So the first few shows together are consistently...a bewilderingly negative experience for Margie, in that it's a very tense, quiet, insecure and shame-ridden 24-48 hours after the show--followed by delayed revelry days after the performance with Raf finally able to reflect positively upon the experience and assuring Margie that it actually was a great performance, and that he had a lot of fun--and they're able to recall their favorite moments together, etc.
Unlike Lace, though, Margie never digs into him about his behavior. She just mirrors his silence, and then--very uncomfortably--gives him space because she doesn't really know what else she can do, and--assuming she's the problem--she doesn't want to risk messing things up even more, since she doesn't know what she did wrong in the first place. And, you know, there's only so many times Raf can reassure her, too late, that she was great, actually. And so he finally does relent to telling her that this is just...how he is after a show, that it's no one's fault, he's not mad at her or anyone--it's just ptsd. That's all he tells her, and, as per always with Margie--she doesn't try to pry out more information from him about it.
Margie goes down her own little rabbit hole of research instead, and comes to Raf with the idea for a new post-performance routine (communicated with staff and such before hand to ensure accommodation) wherein they don't try to gladhand, or pack up, or do literally anything for the first half hour after they walk off stage. Instead, they find a quiet, dimly lit corner somewhere away from everything and just sit, and rest, no expectations, no obligations, nothing. Raf agrees to put this idea into practice, and it quickly evolves into, well idk... Being held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to him.
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miyasturniolo · 1 day
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CONCLUSIONS | matt sturniolo
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pairing: fwb!matt x f!reader
summary: where you’ve been hanging out with a guy but matt thought differently and thinks you are fucking another guy behind his back, which makes him jealous and mad.
warnings: smut, use of y/n, choking kink, hair pulling, rough sex, mention of blood, fingering, swearing, pet names (slut, baby, love, darling, good girl), teasing, stalking, car sex, mattiude, violence, edging (y/n), unprotected sex.
a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. yahoo, long smut.
WORDS: 3.6k
miyasturniolo on wattpad
you - pink | matt - blue | guy - red
-
For the past few days, you haven't been texting Matt that much due to you've been busy or hanging out with friends, especially one guy since you both seem to share similar interests.
However, Matt hasn't been pleased with the situation. He's been overthinking, worrying that you may be involved with someone else, even though you both agreed to be exclusive.
Despite Matt's attempts to reach out to you, you've been responding late, which is uncharacteristic of you. For an example, when he asked if you were in the mood to hang out or maybe add sex, you simply mentioned that you were with a friend without answering his further inquiries.
Feeling frustrated, Matt ended up stalking you today, as you had unknowingly left your location sharing on. This oversight delighted him, as he could track your movements.
At this moment, you are walking in the park with him, surrounded by long grass and flowers. "So, what would you like to do today? Or are you just in the mood to relax?" he asked.
"Not sure, what you in the mood for?" You answered, glancing at your shoes before looking at the blond haired guy. A sense of unease washed over you, but you chose not to act on it.
You received a message from Matt, but you decided not to read or respond to it as you were currently with someone else, and your friend was discussing a different topic which was how often you both been spending time together.
Matt parked his car and began searching for you, noticing you have ignored his message. However, he soon discovered you with another guy.
You had a feeling of being watched, but upon looking around, you saw nothing. Matt, on the other hand, was seething with anger, his knuckles turning white as he imagined violently confronting the blonde guy for being near you.
Misinterpreting the situation, Matt assumed you were fucking with another guy, even when you had an agreement with him. This misconception led him to question his own abilities and size, spiraling into self-doubt about his performance in the friends with benefits relationship.
He couldn't bear to watch the two of you any longer, so he ran towards you, trying to act casual, but his anger had crossed the line.
Matt pushed the guy, causing him to fall. You turned around, your eyes widening at the scene. Matt seemed to ignore you, focusing on the guy.
"Who do you think you are hanging out with y/n?" Matt kicked the guy as he tried to get up. You attempted to stop Matt, but he pushed you, not hard enough to make you fall.
"Do you seriously think you have a chance? Let me tell you, I satisfy her better than you." Matt said, unsure if that was true, considering you wouldn't be with the guy if Matt was good at it.
"What the fuck?!" Your friend exclaimed. You tried to intervene and eventually, Matt stopped, but he was determined to make the guy suffer. "You heard me," Matt spat.
He didn't look at you, feeling a mix of sadness and anger for your actions. He would address the situation with you later; for now his focus was on the guy.
"Matt, you don't know what you're saying," you said, but he just scoffed and snapped, "Right, I see how it is. Go to the next guy you see so he can mess you up!" Matt shouted at you before turning to your blonde haired friend who he thinks your fucking.
Your friend quickly punched Matt, causing him to stumble, but it only fueled his anger and pushed him away. "I've never done anything with her, but the way you're acting, I might just to show her how she should be treated!" the guy said to Matt.
You tried to restrain Matt once again, but it was too late. He punched the guy, making him fall to the ground and spit out a tiny bit of blood. "Matt!" you shouted loudly, embarrassed by his actions.
"You're the jerk here, and if I catch you with y/n again, you'll regret it and never see anyone again!" Matt scoffed before walking away, grabbing your hand harshly and not allowing you to say anything, not even an apology.
He led you to his car, and you didn't attempt to make him let go, knowing he would make it more difficult for you. He was fuming, and his ears were red.
He didn’t mean to lose his temper, but he was feeling a mix of anger and sadness upon discovering that you had been involved with someone else. “Why are you seeing someone else? What have I done to deserve this? I've focused on you, not even my own fucking brothers,” he shouted as he placed you in the passenger seat and closed the door firmly behind you.
As he settled into the driver's seat and slammed the door, he disregarded fastening his seatbelt. “Why you been avoiding me for that other guy?” he yelled at you.
“Matt, I haven't fucked him at all. I'm still keeping my promise with that,” You stated firmly then spoke again. “And I’ve been seeing him lately because..”but he simply shook his head and interrupted. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered.
He glanced at you before starting to drive, his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel so tightly. “Why am I driving you back to my place? Maybe you should go back to him since he seems like he fucks you better!” he shouted at you once more as he halted at a red light.
He felt a twinge of guilt, as he rarely resorted to anger or violence, but his emotions were running high. “I want you to get out of the car, but I care about you too much to do that.”
You both fell into a tense silence. His lips were chapped from biting them, reflecting his inner turmoil. He struggled to articulate his emotions, torn between anger and the urge to cry.
"Why did you have to do this, of all people?" he finally spoke, his words piercing your heart. You’ve tried to attempted by explaining, insisting that you hadn't been with another man and especially the blonde guy.
"Matt, you've misunderstood! I never slept with him," you pleaded, but he dismissed your words with a shake of his head, his voice rising in frustration. "You've been avoiding me, texting me late because you've been with him. Then I bet you, you message me after you fuck him or ignore me until you sleep afterwards you two fucked!" His voice cracked with emotion.
As the misunderstanding escalated, you sighed softly, feeling overwhelmed by the chaos. "Matt," you tried to reach out to him, placing your hand on his lap, inadvertently brushing against his groin. In response, he angrily slammed his hand on the wheel.
You glanced at Matt, sensing his anger towards you, and knew he wouldn't believe you. "Matthew," you whispered.
"Stop saying my name, maybe moan the other guy's name," he retorted as he drove faster. With one hand on the wheel, he pushed your hand away from him. He didn't want your touch, even though he was clearly upset.
He remained silent as you tried to explain, but he continued to ignore you. "Matt, I really mean it this time. I'm sorry I've been ignoring your messages. Sometimes I am genuinely busy, even when I'm not with him," you said.
He listened but stayed quiet for a moment before making a remark that made you frown. "And what about the times when you were with him?"
"Most of the time, I didn't see your messages until later. But there were instances where I ignored you because I was with him," you answered honestly. He chuckled and remarked, "Yeah, and that something is probably fucking him, I bet."
"Are you kidding me? How many times do I have to clarify that I didn't have sex with him? Secondly, he's-" You were about to finish your sentence, but he interrupted you.
"Come on, he likes you. You like him. What did I do for you to stop having sex with me and to stop liking me," Matt says as we were less than half an hour away from his house.
"He doesn't like me, and I don't like him. I only like you," you say, but he just shakes his head. "I'm not falling for your games anymore, y/n," he whispers, trying not to let out a small sob because he wants to believe you and doesn't want to think you're having relations with the blonde jerk, but he can't easily dismiss his suspicions.
He continues driving while you try to keep your composure. You take a risk by placing your hand on his lap again and rubbing it, but this time he doesn't move your hand away.
He simply ignores your touch, even though you're unaware that he's trying to maintain a tough facade because he's still upset and doesn't want to appear like he's already receptive to your touch.
He still drives fast, though not as fast as before. Your hand on his lap affected him in many ways: missing your touch, needing you, but ultimately suspecting that you've been touching the blonde-haired guy.
"y/n," his tone was soft but tinged with anger as he glanced at you. "Yeah?" you responded, meeting his gaze as he drove.
"I want to trust you, but it hurts that you've ignoring me for some guy you've never mentioned before. How long have you known each other? Actually, I don't want to know, it will just hurts me more," he admitted, his frustration evident. You reached out and rubbed his thigh once more in an attempt to reassure him.
"I'll take the blame for ignoring you, but I swear on my life, I haven't been intimate with him," you assured him. However, he just shrugged, unsure of what to believe. He wanted to trust you, but a part of him couldn't shake the feeling that you were more interested in the other guy. "Right..."
Without meeting his eyes, you shifted in the passenger seat and absentmindedly touched his bulge.
He took a deep breath, caught off guard. He glanced at you, then back at the road, realizing there was still a bit of driving left until you reached your destination.
"If you're implying I should have sex with you, I will instead discipline you until you're sore, as that's what you deserve right now. And trust me, it won't be pleasant," he stated, causing you to gaze at him in surprise.
Your eyes shifted from his face to his body, then back to his eyes. "Oh..." you whispered, completely shocked, while he remained quiet.
With one hand on the wheel, he reached for your hand and moved it away from him. "Be a good girl and remove the lower part of your clothes," he instructed.
Confused by his rapidly changing moods, you hesitated but eventually obeyed. As you took off your jeans and underwear, you were naked except for your shirt and bra. "I didn't think you'd actually go through with it," he remarked.
He placed his hands on your bare skin, feeling the softness of your thigh. Without hesitation, he moved closer towards your area.
Matt was focused on the road, but he was slightly distracted by the effect your touch was having on him, causing his arousal to increase.
"I'm going to drive you wild, making you beg for me to be inside you," he said confidently, his fingers exploring your soft skin, causing you to bite your lip.
He seemed to know all your sensitive spots as if he could read your mind without even looking at you. "Does he understand you like I do, does he know where you like to be touched?" he asked.
You shook your head, signaling a no, but then spoke since he was focused on driving. "He doesn't know anything..." you whispered.
He chuckled softly with a smirk, teasingly circling your clitoris, causing you to squirm. "Do you enjoy that, darling?" he asked, as you let out a quiet moan, confirming that you did.
Slowly, he inserted his middle finger inside you, the cool metal of a ring on his index finger brushing against your sensitive skin. "Matt..." you moaned, already craving more.
He glanced at you, then back at the road, aware that you desired more but intent on making you suffer, allowing you to regret sleeping with another man and not informing him.
"Such a slut," he murmured, slipping another finger inside you, thrusting them in and out before expertly stroking your G-spot.
"Do you like that, baby?" he inquired, picking up the pace. Skilled with his hands, he observed the way you arched your back out of the corner of his eye as he drove.
His fingers were already wet, yet you had not reached orgasm. "You've missed me, haven't you? I bet he hasn't been satisfying you properly, since you are so needy."
As he simultaneously rubbed your urethral opening and penetrated you, you experienced a heightened sense of pleasure. Your nipples grew hard beneath your bra and shirt as you released short breaths.
"That's it... Are you close?" he inquired, and you nodded, feeling your orgasm beginning to build, causing your legs to tremble slightly.
As you gripped his fingers tightly, he withdrew them from you, causing you to meet his gaze. He feigned indifference. "Matthew, I swear..." you muttered.
He quickly sucked on his fingers before resuming driving with both hands, leaving you in a state of distress because he had denied your release.
"It's what you deserve," he stated, but you found the closeness unbearable, prompting you to almost reach for yourself, only to be halted by him.
"If you even consider it, you'll regret it. I'll hurt you so badly that you won't be able to be touched," he threatened firmly, fixing his gaze on you before returning his attention to the road.
Reluctantly, you retracted your hands, trying to maintain composure despite feeling like a child having a tantrum. The gravity of his actions left you in disbelief.
Matt glanced at the road, biting his lip, before taking a wrong turn towards his house. He parked on a quiet street and motioned for you to go in the back seat. "Now," he commanded, determined to satisfy you without engaging in intercourse while his cock pulsed.
He climbed on top of you in the back seat, his gaze fixed on you. "Watch me make you forget about your other fling," he whispered.
Grasping your hair, he pulled it gently to expose your neck. He nibbled and then sucked on it, eliciting a moan from you.
His hard on pressed against your bare thigh, revealing his lingering anger but also desire for you.
Releasing your hair, he remarked, "I need to leave a mark on you so everyone knows who satisfies you," before removing his shirt, leaving him in shorts and boxers while you remained in a shirt and bra.
"I can't stand you. I hate that I still care about you after everything," he muttered, kissing your lips passionately. You responded in kind.
As he kissed you, his hand ventured between your legs, teasing you by circling your outer labia. "Oh god," you breathed into the kiss, causing him to smirk.
He gazed into your eyes, filled with the same lust that consumed him. His attention shifted to the smudged lipstick around your lips, a result of their passionate kisses. With a spare hand, he gently wiped away the lipstick.
A faint smile crossed his face as he looked at your shirt, before stopping his movements on your intimate area. He removed your shirt swiftly, followed by your bra, eager to reveal your bare boobs.
"I hate how much I love you, even though you're not truly mine...yet," he murmured, planting kisses and leaving a few love bites on your chest. Your response was a small moan, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair. He didn't need you to speak, as all he desired was mutual satisfaction.
The intensity of his desire overwhelmed him, yearning to be one with you. He reluctantly pulled away, admiring your breasts for a moment before removing his shorts and boxers.
“I bet you've missed good sex. I just know he had such a short dick that you didn't even feel him inside you. But don't worry, love. I'm here now," Matt said, stroking himself a bit, which made him leak pre-cum on your lower stomach.
"Please, Matt," you whined. You needed him so badly, but he wanted to tease you. "Be patient," he said, even though he couldn’t handle it anymore longer.
He slowly teased you by circling his tip on your inner thigh, making you moan and let out whimpers. Matt let out a few groans, loving your warmth.
"How badly do you need me, baby?" he mumbled, wrapping his hand around his thick shaft while teasing you. But he couldn't tease you for too long, or he would just cum without being inside you. "So bad," you whined.
His blue eyes were fixed on yours, but without warning, he stopped and slammed himself into you, making you moan loudly in pain and pleasure due to his size.
"Make a sound during the next few thrusts and I'll choke you," he says as he begins to move. However, you already slip up, letting out a moan with each thrust.
He grabs your neck and starts to choke you, meaning his words. He never intended for this to happen, but for some reason, he finds himself drawn to it, knowing he must be careful.
He continues to forcefully penetrate you, alternating between gentle and rough thrusts, causing you to release faint moans as he chokes you.
His cold hands wrap around your warm neck, now adorned with fresh hickeys, as he continues thrusting until he hits your sweet spot.
As your eyes roll back in pleasure, he releases your neck momentarily. "Don't disobey me, or you'll be punished," he warns, increasing his pace and intensifying your moans.
"Look at me! Tell me you would never let him fuck you again!" He tugs at your hair to make you face him, and despite never having been intimate with him, you say what he desires. "Good girl," he murmurs.
He released your hair and began thrusting harder, his eyes fixed on you, then on your breasts as they bounced with each motion. “You're so tight, fuck,” Matt groaned.
He pushed back his sweaty hair as your bodies clapped together with each thrust, the heat rising in his car causing the windows to fog up.
“You regret what you did?” He asked, you couldn’t speak since he was fucking you so hard so he just took it as a yes.
He kissed your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth, savoring the taste as he drove into you with an intensity that left you breathless.
As Matt's tongue and yours intertwined, he eventually pulled away, both of you gasping for air. “I'm close, I can't hold on much longer,” he whimpered, knowing he was on the brink of climaxing inside you.
Locking eyes with you, now lost in ecstasy, he smirked and thrust a few more times before bringing you to climax, sensing your release through the way you clung to him.
"Oh my, fuckkk" you moaned loudly, closing your eyes and slightly arching your back. He climaxed inside you, then lay on top of you, needing a moment to catch his breath just like you did.
Resting his head on your chest, your sweaty bodies touching, he asked, "Are you okay, love?" You replied to him while breathing heavily, "Yes, are you?"
He nodded, then playfully drew a little star on the window since it’s foggy before returning his gaze to you. "Do you mean it... you won't be with him again?" he inquired.
You looked at him, rubbing your eyes. "Can I tell you something? I've tried to share this with you many times, but you keep interrupting," you said. He simply nodded.
"I don't like him. I promise I only like you, and I know he doesn't like me," you asserted, but he just chuckled in jealousy. "He definitely likes you," he insisted.
"No, seriously, he doesn't. And how I know is because he's gay," you say, causing Matt to freeze before looking at you.
For a moment, he forgot everything after you revealed that. The blonde guy he had fought because he mistakenly thought you two were in a friends with benefits relationship was actually gay. "No, you're joking," Matt shook his head.
You simply stared at him, realizing he was no longer inside you. He retrieved tissues from his car, cleaned himself up, and then helped clean you, but you decided to speak up.
"I'm serious... he's gay. In fact, the reason we've been hanging out together is because he's interested in my friend," you explain. Matt just stared at you, realizing he needed to apologize or do something. "Shit," he muttered.
MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO
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vincentbriggs · 1 day
Note
You've mentioned before that it is acceptable to sew the sleeve onto the torso of a garment before sewing into a tube, and also that construction for something may be different when done by hand vs machine. So far, all the tutorials about sleeves w/ gussets I've seen involve sewing the gusset onto the sleeve, making a tube, and then attaching it to the body. If I do it by hand, can I get away with putting the sleeve on before I turn it into a tube?
Oh nonono that's not just an acceptable way to do it, it is THE way to do the sleeves on certain types of garments!
Obviously with anything tailored it doesn't work - fitted jackets and coats are too structured and the seams there usually don't line up anyways. But if you're making a shirt or shift or nightgown, or basically anything unstructured, one layer, and with sleeve seams and side seams that line up, put the sleeve on first!!! Your shirt should resemble a large + right after the sleeves go on.
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It doesn't matter if there's a gusset or not, or if you're doing it by hand or machine, this method is objectively better either way.
Attach the sleeve, finish the seam allowance, and THEN close the side and sleeve up as one. If there's a gusset then sew it in on all 4 sides before closing up the rest of the side and sleeve.
(And trim down the seam allowances of the sleeve and body pieces next to the gusset, and then fold the edges of the gusset outwards around them when you fell the seams. I'm still chugging along on my extremely long shirt tutorial and I'll go over all of this thoroughly in it.)
I know I like to say that there's no one right way to sew things, and that's true a lot of the time, and technically you can sew the sleeves on second but. please never do that. It's so so much easier to do it while they're nice and flat. Please don't make your life that much harder for no reason.
It's been about 13 years since the first and only time I used a commercial sewing pattern, but I'm pretty sure the sleeves went on in that order in the instructions for it, and commercially made shirts are done the same way!
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(This one's antique from maybe the 1910's-20's because it's the only shirt I own that I didn't make myself, but you can see that the sleeve was sewn on and felled first, and I promise the modern button ups I alter at work are done the same way.)
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7ndipity · 1 day
Text
Dating A Foreign Partner
Ot7 x Reader
Summary: How the members would handle being in a relationship with a foreign S/o.
Warnings: brief mentions of racial/cultural discrimination,
A/N: Thank you to @bethanysnow for requesting this, I hope you like it!😘💜 I tried to keep these a bit lighter, but if there’s something more specific that any of you would like to see, lmk!
Masterlist
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Jin:
Sounds cliche, but I think he would really enjoy trying foods from where you're from, especially some of the more ‘unusual’ ones(I literally found out the other day that pb&j sandwiches are considered weird in Korea??)
I think you two would accidentally confuse each other with lesser known cultural differences, like when he first asks you to be official after only like two dates(which is normal in korean culture, but not so much in western dating)
Would become very aware of the prejudices and discrimination that foreign couples deal with in both your countries. Like, obviously he was aware it was an issue before, but dealing with it first hand made him realize just how much of an issue it was.
It would make his heart soo happy to see you learning how to speak Korean or embracing different parts of his culture.
(Secretly studies your native language to surprise you for your birthday or anniversary)
Yoongi:
I might be projecting a lil bit, but I can honestly see him having a foreign partner. Idk, I just see him not really paying much mind to things like race/nationality, he likes who he likes and that’s it.
Might be a little shy about how much more comfortable you are with things like casual skinship tho, but he also kinda secretly loves it.
He would really love that you’re so direct sometimes, rather than trying to ask for things in a more roundabout ‘polite’ way that is considered proper in Korean culture. He would love that you’re to the point, like him.
Would be so flattered if you made the effort to learn Korean, grinning so big the first time he hears you use even something little like “Hajima” correctly.
He’d do the same with your language too. Learning about your culture would be really important to him, he wants you to know that he appreciates you and where you came from.
Hobi:
Tbh, I totally see him with a foreign partner, he would love the variety and unique energy that you bring to each other's lives.
I think he would tend to forget some of the differences in how you both grew up until you mention something more drastic like school safety drills and he has to do a double take like “wtf?!”
I think he would love how open and expressive you are about your home and culture, and loves learning about where you came from. You’re his favorite person, he wants to know as much as possible about you!
Would have soo much fun teaching you about all the different holidays and traditions in Korea that differ from where you’re from.
Would be soo surprised if you learned to speak Korean, even if it’s just a few phrases at first. He just gets so happy and giggly hearing you speak.
Namjoon:
I think most people consider him the most likely out of the group to have a foreign partner, and tbh I kinda agree.
He would make a serious effort to learn as much about your country/culture as he could, possibly even wanting to visit there sometime with you.
Despite being pretty well versed in a lot of other cultures, he would definitely still have little moments of culture shock over random things like educational systems. Like I can imagine his surprise/confusion over the more lax approach in some schools or someone being homeschooled(hi).
Would be super impressed if you already knew some korean when you met, but if not, he’s more than happy to help you learn.
Lowkey quite protective over you, bc he knows how harsh Korean media can be towards celebrities having foreign partners.
Jimin:
Thinks your Korean is super cute! He finds it absolutely adorable the way you say certain words, and he loves the way you speak slowly and softly when you’re focused on pronouncing certain phrases correctly.
If you’re new to living in Korea, he would do his best to help you settle in and adjust to the differences in day to day life, as well as comforting you on the days when you feel homesick.
Loves learning about your culture, tho I think he would prefer learning from you than on his, just so he can watch how excited you get talking about your home.
Would be soo excited if he finds any similarities between your cultures, whether it’s how you celebrate certain holidays, or a similar dish. He loves finding those little connections.
Another who would be rather protective over you, especially if he knows you have anxieties about certain things due to public safety issues where you’re from. He just wants to make sure you to feel safe
Taehyung:
I know a lot of people see him as rather traditional when it comes to things like dating/relationships, but I could very much see him with a foreign partner, especially since he talked about wanting to live abroad at some point in the future.
I think he would find your different perspectives really refreshing, you really help broaden each other's horizons.
I honestly think he would be another who would sometimes forget the differences in how you both grew up until he brings up something and you’re like “We never did that??”
Lowkey brags about you every chance he gets like “Oh ,Y/n’s from (country name), and they were teaching me about-”
He never treats it as if you’re some sort of novelty tho, he just really loves you and wants to show you that he supports you and shares your pride for who you are and where you’re from.
Jungkook:
I think he would have a lot of fun with a foreign partner, learning about each other's cultures and sharing stories about your upbringings.
Might take him a while to adjust to things like your relationships/dynamics with other guys, just bc that’s not quite as common in Korea, but I could see him actually really enjoying it if you fit into his friend group bc of that.
Another that would feel rather protective over you for similar reasons as Joon. If anyone so much as looks at you weird, he’s gonna shut them down soo fast.
He loves hearing you speak in your native language, there’s something about it that’s just so soothing and melodic about it to him. But it’s only when you're speaking, it’s not the same with anyone else.
Would ask you to teach him so that he can hear you speak it more(study dates where you help each other would be super cute and cozy)
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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un-lawliet · 11 hours
Note
Can I PLEASE request more soft gojo fics pleaseee. Maybe in jujitsu tech where he barges in the class we're teaching just to give us a goodbye kiss because he's going on a mission and he just can't go without a kiss! 🥺
“Teacher, Teacher”
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-in which Gojo visits you before he leaves for his mission.
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“And so Maki!” You say, staring down at the faces of your students, your arms opening in a hug like motion towards them.
“When using any of your cursed tools, make sure you protect your weak points, it’s essential!”
It was late in the afternoon, and you were currently going over your students last performance in training, your eyes lit up with passionate praise as you evaluated their improvements.
Maki nods, her face resting on her palm, her glasses slipping down her nose slightly.
“Now..Panda.” You turn, looking at him a grin on your face.
Panda straightens, cocking his fluffy head in acknowledgement to your engagement.
You giggle, “Well, you did great! However, maybe try to rely a little less on your size and more on the technical aspect of your attacks.”
“Tuna.” You hear Inumaki sigh, rubbing his shin in which Panda had sat on mid battle.
“If I have the weight shouldn’t I use it?” Panda questions gently, ignoring Inumaki entirely.
You nod, “Of course! Just not to the point where your entire strength hinges on it…If that makes sense..”
“Try throw a punch she means.” Maki interrupts, leaning back in her chair yawning.
“Salmon.”
“Listen, I can’t help it if my battle tactics are different from you’s two” Panda huffs.
“So what? You gonna sit on a curse?”
“Maybe I will.” Panda replies, sticking out his chest, “See if they can handle me!”
Inumaki’s shoulder slumps as he writes something on the book in front of him before holding it up.
“You’ll get destroyed.”
“The hell? No I won’t.”
Maki leans over to read Inumaki’s writing before laughing to herself, “He has a point y’know”
“Stupid point.”
“Bonito flakes.”
“Ooh someone’s mad I beat him.”
“OoOoh some Panda’s mad that he gets annihilated by a grade 4 curse.” Maki cheekily replies, her eyes glimmering with mischief.
“Hey!” You interupt, “Nobodys getting annihilated when I’m the teacher.”
Your students sigh and turn back to you, Inumaki sticking out his tounge to Panda in his movements.
And you giggle to yourself fondly.
You love being a teacher.
After training at Jujutsu Tech it seemed the only natural course for you, you had strength of course, but your real talent stemmed from your ability to create battle plans that exploited sorcerers strengths and disguised their weaknesses.
Yaga had welcomed you as a co-worker just a couple days after your graduation, his grin wide as he explained your duties before frowning at someone behind you.
“And what are you doing here Satoru.”
“What? I’m here to teach.”
“Huh?” You had said turning to look at him.
Even Shoko, who you would tease for her stoicism, raised an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna teach?” She said, “You.”
Gojo placed a hand on his heart, a dramatic showing of offence present in the way he opened his mouth and gasped, “Is it that weird?”
“Yes.” You all deadpanned.
Yaga scratched the back of his head, “Never in all my years of teaching you, have you ever shown an interest in teaching.”
“Well, it’s different now.” Gojo replied simply, grinning at his previous teacher, gloating. “Someone has to look after this one.” He nodded towards you, winking.
“Look after me??” You exclaim, turning to face him fully, your arms crossed, “I’m more than capable of-”
“Is this about Geto?” Shoko had asked plainly, resting her chin on her palm, staring Gojo out.
All of you went silent.
“No, not at all.”
Gojos’ expression had turned cold, as if the very mention of his best friend could freeze any conversation, any fleeting moment. You felt uneasy, your body closing in on itself to fight off the chill.
“Are you sure-”
“Yes.”
It was awkward.
Gojo and Shoko staring at eachother, as if commuting in a silent battle in which you and Yaga could not understand.
Quiet. Until Yaga interupted with a sigh, shaking his head.
“You’ll have to do an interview.”
“HUH?” Gojo replied, his head swinging back to Yaga, breaking his battle with Shoko instantaneously.
“Y/N didn’t need an interview?”
“Y/N is not a reckless.”
“Neither am I!!”
And you remember laughing into your palm, the pain of the past dissipating for a split second, as Gojo pouted, and followed Yaga into his office, as Shoko congratulated you on your new job.
Your new job that you had kept for the last 10 years.
…With Satoru Gojo.
Who had somehow, along the way, stole your heart.
Your phone buzzes from your desk, and you glance at it to see a message for Satoru, asking you if you wanted anything back from his mission later.
You deflate a little at the reminder.
You weren’t going to see Gojo before his mission due to your scheduled classes with the second years.
It had been a while since you had properly spent time with him, you missed seeing his silly face.
You sigh, you’ll reply later.
“So Maki, were you with Nobara yesterday?” You hear Panda start as you tune back into your students conversation.
“Huh? Yea? We were training.”
“Oh oh oh…Private training sessions…” Panda smirks, and you swear Maki’s glare could kill.
“Salmonnn~.”
“Shut up Inumaki.”
“Look Inumaki she’s totally blushing!” Panda laughs, you think it sounds more like a roar.
“That’s it! I swear to God, next training session I will fuc-”
The sliding door behind you opens, and you turn to see your boyfriend waltz into the room, bending to pass through the threshold.
“There she is!” Gojo says, opening his arms in your direction.
“Oh here we go.” Maki mutters.
Gojo was beaming, his mouth carrying the weight of his expression, teeth bared in a wide grin, eyes hidden behind his blindfold.
He raised his arms and walked towards you, ignoring your students exasperation, only focusing on you.
“Hello!” You say, as he pulls you into his chest, giving you a big; dramatic kiss on your head, swaying gently.
“Thought you were leaving?” You question, leaning towards him.
“I was, but someone didn’t reply to my text.” Gojo huffs back, pulling away to watch your face.
“How can I face this world’s dangers if I’m being ignored!?”
“You just sent it Toru.”
“Aha! So you did see it!”
“I was gonna reply later.”
Gojo shakes his head, pouting, “Not good enough.”
You watch amused as he taps his cheek twice, challenging you.
You giggle rising up on your feet to kiss his cheek, before you push him away by the chest.
“Go!” You say, your voice light, “You got your goodbyes, don’t let me hold you back.”
And he just looks at you, a soft smile on his face and you miss the cheeky look he gives you before leaning down and quickly kissing you.
It was small and gentle, and you barely register the disgusted groans of your students, your cheeks warning.
“I’ll be home by 10.” Gojo says, patting your head, “Don’t wait up for me if you’re tired yea?”
And you nod, although you both know that you’ll stay up to see him regardless.
“Be safe!” You call after him, as he walks away, a spring in his step.
“Always am baby!”
And then he’s gone, and you’re left speechless and smiling.
“God, can we leave?” Maki groans, “I feel sick.”
“You just wish that was you and Nobara Maki.” Panda teases, and you hear Inumaki laugh, slapping the desk.
Maki’s face turns bright red and she stands up from her desk, pointing a finger at Panda.
“You and me outside now, we can see if Pandas can survive being buried alive!”
“Oh it’s on!”
You lift an eyebrow and all three of them rise, not bothering to stop them.
“Please try not to kill each other.” You call after them, laughing as Inumaki salutes you before he exits.
…You love being a teacher.
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masterlist <3
FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A REQUEST
A/N THANK U FOR THE REQUEST !!! i decided just to write it silly, just bc i’m not too good at the characterisation of the second year students EEK so i hope this is ok !!!!! i love gojo <3 also i wrote this instead of getting ready for work so AHHHHHH i have to panic get ready now so that’s fun
i love you all have a lovely LOVELY day thank u for reading :)
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omitea · 7 hours
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SOMEONE ELSE TO LOVE .ᐣ.ᐟ
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❥. ft. g. satoru.
╰┈➤ satoru has been thinking about something lately. though the way he brings it up, comes across as something completely different. but he’s quick to reassure you.
❥. content. f! reader, whipped satoru, mention of baby bump, a pinch of angst, satoru has baby fever. a tiny sentence of suggestiveness. the thought of dad! gojo has me in a headlock.
❥. note. i had to fight with writers block to get smth out… ended up w this bc i dont wanna process ch 261. this is all over the place, forgive me.
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gojo satoru was a man consisting of many qualities. the most obvious one, was being totally whipped for you. that fact only succeeded in leaving you with a tingly feeling in your chest.
he's been tracing your stomach since he joined you under the heavy duvet that’s covering both of your bodies. you place your hand on top of his, giving it a firm squeeze. and with a deep sigh, he finally speaks for the first time for the night. the words flowing from his mouth laced with a slight rasp, “what if there was someone else i’d be able to love...someday?”
it was a soft murmur. the sound of his voice almost getting drowned out by the busy city that could be heard in your high-rise apartment. it being the complete opposite of the ambience you were currently engulfed in. you felt the familiar feeling of something uneasy sinking into the pit of your stomach. what does he even mean by loving someone else? the grip you had on his hand loosened as dread started to bubble under the thick layers of your skin.
slowly, you turned around to face him. wide eyes mirroring his, but they were only filled with adoration. different shades of blue specks glistening from the moonlight that's peeking through the curtains. yet it soon dims once he sees your lips tremble and the dejected look on your face. his hand desperately grabs your face— rubbing his thumb on the apple of your cheek.
“hey...hey, what’s wrong?,” he pleads, eyes darting across your face to search for any form of discomfort. his lips form into a small pout, silently begging for you to talk to him. to tell him what's wrong. but your throat feels like it's slowly closing in, not allowing you to utter a single word.
sometimes it was hard to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of his. often being unspecific with his choice of words. realization slowly began to sink in, and he felt his breath shudder out of sheer panic. “i didn’t mean it like that, angel,” he swallowed. once he was met with silence, he rested his forehead against your own. the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him, made it feel like his heart had been ripped out and shattered into the smallest pieces. “sweets…i didn’t. i promise.”
he was quick to reassure you and placed a wet kiss on your forehead before placing one on your lips— which are currently formed in a pout. “shit. uhm..,” he cleared his throat. “i know we talked about this a lot, but lately it’s been the only thing i've been thinking about.” a questionable look found its way on your face and he took that as a sign to continue.
“you know, someone who can call you ‘mama’, someone who’s the perfect mix of the two of us.” his hand rested on your stomach yet again. “you’d look absolutely beautiful with a cute baby bump.”his white eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes to take a breath to drown out the sound of his heart beating in his ears. “wouldn’t that be exciting, hmm?,” he chuckled. “a little version of you and me eventually running around the house...being the most precious thing in the world.”
it was quiet for a moment before you finally had spoken, "satoru.'' it sounded more like a small whisper into the cold night air, "you're such an ass." at that, he pulled back, and his jaw dropped. "c'mon, it was cute. admit it.'" you scoffed and turned your back before pulling the covers over your head. "goodnight, toru."
he dipped his head under and propped his head on your shoulder. allowing his soft lips to leave wet trails of feathery kisses on your skin. "prettyyyyy,'' he whined. his cold hand made its way under your nightgown— squeezing the pooch of your stomach. "wanna practice right now?''
you started feeling giddy with his soft touches and his breath fanning against your cheek. but you weren't going to give in that easily. "would you be able to handle it?," you grinned. the small gasp leaving his throat only amusing you more.
"of course!," satoru boasted," i'd make sure to pump you round and full of quadruplets too."
you almost choked on your spit and you felt him wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer to his chest. "i did not need to hear this. goodnight," you yawned. he muttered a small, "yes, ma'am," before straining his neck to place a big kiss on your lips.
although, sleep couldn't overtake your consciousness because of something prodding at the back of your thigh.
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©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
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writers-potion · 9 hours
Text
Writing Mad Characters
Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).
So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (-‸ლ)
Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?
Things to Avoid
“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have. 
Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.
Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.
Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)
Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward. 
Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals. 
Research Tips
Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them. 
Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for. 
- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness 
Does your character have empathy?  
A sociopathic kind of madness is different. 
General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness
Establish a Baseline 
A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there. 
If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc. 
This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.
Trigger Events
A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing. 
A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it. 
Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself) 
You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away. 
Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.
Physical Manifestations/Quirks
If your character has a routine, show how they break down. 
They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”
Deteriorating Relationships
Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.
The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.
Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges 
For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide. 
Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.
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nxuvillette · 1 day
Text
TO FEEL WHOLE AGAIN — BOOTHILL
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synopsis: getting pregnant and left by yourself wasn’t in your plans in life at all, but you end up meeting a man who becomes more than just a friend who’s willing to help.
❥- pairings : boothill x fem!reader
❥- note : so sorry for any inactivity !! life has just been a wreck, but i’m here with a little idea I came up with the other night. i hope you all enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated !!
content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, pregnancy, abandonment, heavy angst, breakups, mentions of abortion (reader does not have one), mentions of alcohol, human!boothill, angst with happy ending, use of pet names (darling + lovely), fluff, very fluffy things.
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You can recall the day you met Boothill like it was the back of your hand. 
It was the day your life had begun a completely new journey, but also, the same day that your life had completely fallen apart within just twenty four hours. Every memory was ingrained in your brain like it was never meant to go away. How could things end up going right, but so wrong at the same time?
About seven months prior, you found yourself sitting inside of a bar with tears still staining your cheeks from the incident that had occurred just hours beforehand. Your heart had gleamed, but shattered just minutes after. You questioned why something like this had happened to you. You never wronged anybody. Sure, you weren’t the most perfect person to exist, but as humans, it’s in their nature to make mistakes. Yet, god had different plans for you and they weren’t exactly the most pleasing ones.
Just two days before that day, you had found out you were pregnant. 
It came by total surprise. You and your boyfriend weren’t exactly trying for kids, but you both had been together for four years at that point. You noticed something was off about you when your period suddenly missed its usual day, and you were experiencing some very odd symptoms that were unusual. After some convincing from your friends, you decided to go out and purchase a pregnancy test which came back positive. You didn’t know what to feel. You were excited, nervous, emotional, but most of all, anxious. You didn’t know how to break the news to your boyfriend and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to keep it. 
For a few days, you didn’t say anything to him. You weren’t the best with words and you didn’t want to dump something so sudden onto him either, but he eventually figured it out when he found you one morning throwing up your breakfast into the toilet. 
He wasn’t angry or upset, but you knew something wasn’t right with him after he found out. He started to become somewhat distant and he avoided any conversation about the baby growing inside you. Then, that same day you ended up at the bar, you had woken up to him gone. All of his items and personal belongings had been cleaned out, and when you tried to get a hold of him, he just completely ghosted you. You didn’t understand. Was it you? Was it the baby? Why did he just up and leave you like that with zero hesitation? It was like your heart had been shattered into pieces and you didn’t know what to do. He left you alone and pregnant with his child. 
Completely brokenhearted and confused, that’s how you ended up in the bar. No, you weren’t drinking any alcohol, but there was a part of you that wanted to head to the clinic and terminate the pregnancy all together. You couldn’t raise a baby on your own. You had seen many stories of mothers defying the odds and managing, but would you be able to? You loved your now ex boyfriend more than life itself. You didn’t think you could fall in love again, and what man would want a single mother as a girlfriend? Most of them would scurry away the second it’s brought up. It wasn’t their job to shame you for whatever choices you made. 
The bar's atmosphere was buzzing with people chatting amongst themselves. Despite being around people, you still felt completely isolated inside of it. You kept thinking of the choices in your brain over and over again. It was consuming you, and you didn’t think you were in the right state of mind to make that decision right now.
You were brought out of your thoughts when the bartender placed a glass in front of you. It was filled with some kind of alcohol that looked like it could be a margarita or a martini. Your brows furrowed at the sight of the beverage. You didn’t order it. “U-Um.. sir, I didn’t order this.” you pushed the glass towards the man behind the bar who was cleaning some cups used earlier. 
“I know, but that man over there did.” he pointed towards the other end of the bar.
You turned your attention to where he was motioning his hand. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of the man who sat a few seats away from you. He had a cowboy hat on top of his head, and very long hair that stretched past his chair. He was wearing a white button up shirt that exposed his chest just a little. He noticed you were staring at him and winked at you, then waved a little. It didn’t seem creepy or strange, but you didn’t know how to react. Despite feeling the way you did, you couldn’t help but think how handsome he was. He had a cunning smile and seemed like one of those cowboys you would have heard of in stories you heard when you were younger, but you knew you couldn’t accept his drink. 
Soon enough, you turned away and just pushed your drink from your reach. You didn’t want to do anything stupid. If it came off as rude, then so be it. You weren’t about to fight with another man this evening. 
You decided to check your phone. There was a small bit of hope that was in your heart. You hoped that maybe your ex reached out to you to fix things or maybe had something to say, but unfortunately, there was nothing. You had a few random notifications from friends, but otherwise, it was silence on the other end. God, you felt like an idiot. He was gone for good. Men who do that shit typically fall off the face of the earth and never come back again. 
“Hey, sweetheart, mind if I take this spot next to ya?” 
You practically jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice that spoke beside you. Your head snapped towards the sound, and you were a bit surprised to see that man who was sitting across the bar now standing next to you. His cologne filled your nose. It smelled of deep wood with a mix of pine. 
Your words got caught in your throat. Was he doing this to make you uncomfortable? Part of you wanted to ignore him, but he wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong. “N-No! Go ahead.. it’s empty anyway..” you replied, trying to avoid his eyes that were boring holes into your face.
The man plopped beside you, taking a swig of his glass that seemed to be filled with some kind of whisky. He was quiet, at first. You weren’t sure if striking up a conversation was in your cards tonight. You were honestly too lost in your thoughts, and somewhat a little nauseated. “So, uh, do ya come around here often? You’re quite the peach if I say so myself.” he placed his cheek against his fist which was resting against the table beside him.
“I don’t..” you replied, dryly. 
He seemed a little discouraged by your sudden lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t your intention, but really, you weren’t interested. “I see.. my name’s Boothill.” he said. “Yours?”
Your eyes flickered towards him then back at the soda can that your hand was wrapped around. This was starting to feel awkward or almost like a forced conversation. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you wanted him to take the hint. “(Y/N)..” you looked at your cell phone to try and avoid him. “Look.. I-I appreciate the drink, but I’m not really interested in a relationship. I just don’t.. I..”
Before you were even able to finish your sentence, tears began to trickle down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you were holding them in until they began to slip from your eyes. 
Boothill was taken back by your sudden tears. He immediately felt guilt wash over him. He didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo or forceful towards you. That’s the last thing he would ever do. “Hey.. I’m sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-I can totally take the drink back and get out of your hair.” he stood up out of his chair to leave the bar. 
You started to wipe your cheeks of any liquid that was on them. “N-No, it’s alright, it’s not you..” you shook your head. “I’ve just had a rough couple of hours.. believe me, it’s not you at all.” 
The man was unsure of what to reply with. Regardless, he felt very bad for you. Not many people come into bars to weep. Most of the time, they come to do the opposite and use the drinks to numb any negative feelings they have. He didn’t want to pry by any means. “I see.. I’m still sorry,  darlin’ I had no idea..” he paused for a moment thinking of what to say next. “If you wanna talk, I’m willing to listen, can’t guarantee I’m any good at advice, but I can be an open ear.”
You weren’t sure if venting your feelings to a complete stranger would make any difference in how you felt. It's not like he would care much anyway. He would probably look at you with that same look every other person had given you when you told them what your ex did. 
However, you were completely wrong.
That day you told Boothill everything that had happened to you. He was completely blown away when you confessed that you were pregnant. He kept apologizing for the drink and was somewhat worried that you felt disrespected, but you didn’t take any offense. It’s not like he knew, nor were you even showing at that point. 
Although he didn’t know you, he had a lot of sympathy for you. He told you that your boyfriend wasn’t a man, but a young boy who couldn’t take responsibility for his actions and he didn’t deserve you by any means. Boothill felt as if abandoning a woman and her child was the sickest thing you could ever do in this life, and you couldn’t help but agree. Especially after spending many years together. 
It felt kind of nice to have someone listen. Even if he was some random person you didn’t know, there was at least somebody out there who was willing to give you the time of day. 
You felt a little dull when you realized you would probably never see Boothill again, but you thanked him many times for his patience. He was even sweet enough to walk you back to your apartment which wasn’t very far from the bar at all. Typically, you weren’t so trusting when it came to men in general, but Boothill’s energy felt secure for some reason. You didn’t feel fear or unease around him. Your body would always give you signs someone wasn’t good, but you were calm and didn’t have a single issue. 
For a little while, you wondered if keeping the child was the right option, but after a lot of conversations with your friends and family, and oddly enough, Boothill, you decided to go forward with the pregnancy. 
You thought you would have to do it alone, but that changed almost instantly when you started receiving random items at your doorstep one morning. 
You had a stable job, but you knew babies weren’t a walk in the park financially. Your parents offered to help pay for whatever was necessary, but you felt bad for making them do such a thing. It all started to shift when you discovered a package outside your apartment door. You had a box of different supplies. Baby shampoo, baby bottles, wipes, lotions. It was basic necessities for an infant and you were a bit confused how they showed up there. You questioned your parents but they denied ordering anything of the sorts, so you wondered who gifted it to you. 
Your friends were also clueless. They had gifts in mind but they weren’t planning on purchasing anything that early on in your pregnancy. You hadn’t even planned on a baby shower or anything of the sorts. 
It didn’t take long for more things to arrive. One morning, you saw that you had been given some baby toys. They were small and quite cute, but you still had yet to discover who was the one leaving them at your doorstep. You wondered if it was potentially your ex trying to somehow compensate you for deserting you, but would he really? He left you alone with the baby. It was clear enough that he wasn’t interested in helping to raise it, so why put in the effort to accommodate you? He could care less about you. 
It all changed when you were leaving your apartment one afternoon. You had an appointment at the doctor’s office to check on how the baby was doing, and standing right beside your front door was not your ex, but Boothill.
At first, you didn’t notice him holding a box of items in his hand, but the realization soon took over that he was the one buying the gifts. You were taken by complete surprise. The two of you had hardly interacted much during that time period, so it did confuse you why he was helping you. He wasn’t obligated to just because you informed him of what your ex did. It wasn’t like you were begging him for money or assistance either. Boothill was just as surprised to see you there too. He usually would stop by when he knew you wouldn’t be around, but he knew sooner or later the truth would come out.
With a flushed face, Boothill began to explain himself. 
He told you that he just couldn’t let you go on that journey alone. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility to be buying you things or even being involved in your life like that, but at the same time, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that you were all alone and there wasn’t anybody else to be there for you. He did apologize if it made you uncomfortable and he wouldn’t come around again if that was the case. 
However, you told him the opposite. You were very thankful for what he had been doing for you. Not many men would step up and just go out of their way to buy things for a baby that wasn’t theirs. You told him you were very appreciative of what he had done, and he could come around as often as he liked. It was kind of lonely being by yourself all of the time. Your friends weren’t always the most available, and you lived on your own. It felt nice to know that somebody wanted to spend time with you. He was relieved that you weren’t weirded out or upset with his actions. He wanted to do the right thing. 
Much to his surprise, you invited him to come to your ultrasound that day, and he was thrilled.
Your interactions grew over the course of a few months. You started seeing him everyday and he came around whenever you needed something. Boothill didn’t mind spending his days with you. It was a joy to watch your belly grow and to see your baby begin to become larger than it was before. His favorite moments were when he’d feel a small kick or movement. He loved kids. It was a guilty pleasure of his, and he honestly couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl. He made so many bets that it was going to be a girl and you thought he would somehow be wrong, but he was right the entire time. 
Along with the baby's growth, there were also feelings between you and Boothill too. He was the first man in your life since your ex and he treated you so much better. He did everything for you, and the baby wasn’t even his. He would spend time helping you tidy up your house, holding your hair away from your face when you had morning sickness, making you tea, giving you massages whenever your body felt sore. Boothill did everything. He even offered at one point to do the entire nursery for you when your due date came closer, but you assured him that it wasn’t his duty to do so. 
But, he planned on doing it anyway.
All of your friends told you to go for it. They said that Boothill was what you needed and they could tell he was into you too, but you were still unsure. If anything, he could be doing all of this just to somehow hurt you in the end or claim you “owed” him a relationship for doing everything for the baby. You knew that probably wasn’t the case, but you were still on the fence.
But, was he?
-
That afternoon, you had woken up from a nap to a knocking coming from your front door. You weren’t expecting any guests, but you had already assumed it was Boothill who was there to do his usual drop by to check in on you. 
You unlocked the front door, pulling it open so he could enter. He was dressed in his usual outfit. A white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and those cowboy boots that you had made fun of a few times. Boothill was used to just entering your place at that point. “Afternoon, darlin’” he said, shutting the door behind him. 
Your hair was a bit messy from your nap and you weren’t really dressed up. You wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts that sat just below your belly. It was a lot more comfortable than the regular pajamas you were used to wearing months ago, but alas, the growth of your body had made those a lot less comfortable these days. Boothill still thought you were gorgeous despite the messy look. “Hi..” you yawned. “Sorry, I’m fresh from a nap. I didn’t hear my alarm..”
“Not a problem, I was just stopping by to drop something off for you.” he replied, handing you a box that had your name on top of it.
Your eyes flickered from the box to the man who was staring down at you. You were used to him giving you random things for the baby here and there, so you were expecting something that was a necessity. “I’m curious, let me see.” you then began opening at the box to see what was inside of it.
After a few seconds, you pulled out a small blanket, but it wasn’t one that was from the store. It was actually homemade, and right in the center was the baby name you had picked out stitched into the fabric with baby pink lace. It was probably the most adorable thing you had ever received from him. It was so soft and you could already picture yourself swaddling your little girl in the blanket itself. The fact that it was homemade as well made it even more special than it already was. 
You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy emotions or not, but you could feel warm tears burning your eyes. It was truthfully making you feel so happy for this pregnancy, but most of all for Boothill. You couldn’t be more blessed with a man like him. “I-I.. I love it..” you sniffled, trying to hide your tears. “It’s so cute..”
Boothill was concerned with your sudden emotions. He didn’t mean to make you cry. If anything, he wanted to do something special for you since you were a special person in his life. “Ahh.. shit, I’m sorry, lovely, is it too much?” he asked, nodding his head. 
You shook your head, laughing in the process to try and halt the tears slipping through your eyes. It was the furthest thing from too much. You adored it. You didn’t care if the stitching was a little crooked or if the pink was somewhat bright, it was cute. It had to be one of the best gifts you had ever gotten. “N-No! I love it! It’s something I wouldn’t have imagined you’d give me! Did you do it all on your own?” you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha.. yeah, that’s why it might seem a little messy. I got the idea though and figured why not? You need something to swaddle that little monster with!” he smiled, which made you smile as well.
Boothill was taken back when he suddenly felt your arms wrap around him. This was the first time you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact with him, and he wasn’t sure how to react to it. Your body felt warm and your belly was against his own abdomen. He could smell the scent of your shampoo lingering in your hair, and it almost intoxicated him from how delicious it smelled. He hesitated for a brief moment, then settled his own arms around your waist. It just felt.. so right to be hugging you. He had yearned for quite a while to feel your touch, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.
Your cheeks felt hot at the realization that you two were so close. There was so much going through your mind at the moment, and all you craved was him. His presence, his touch, his warmth, anything. It was all you wanted. “Boothill.. I want you there when she’s born..” you spoke, softly. “I want you by my side.. you deserve that more than anybody else.”
His eyes grew wide at your words. Sure, he knew he was going to visit when your baby was finally born, but in the room? During the birth? Oh, he could faint right about now. “Of course I’ll be there, sugar. You know I wouldn’t miss it.” he replied, smiling at the thought of your birth. 
Boothill then crouched down to meet your belly. He hadn’t ever done that before while being with you. You felt his hands touch your stomach, seemingly searching for your little girl who was somewhere in there. It felt so natural for him to be doing this. You didn’t feel off or weirded out. You loved the way his fingers explored your skin, touching and grazing at the stretch marks that had formed within time, but what you loved the most, was him.
“Can’t wait to meet your little one.. she’ll be a peach, I know it.” he looked up at you with a grin. 
“Our.. little one.”
Boothill paused when the words slipped from your lips. He thought he had misheard you for a second. “W-What..?” his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
You felt a little bashful having to repeat yourself. You weren’t sure what his reaction might be to you saying such a thing, but you couldn’t keep quiet anymore about your feelings. You wanted him involved in your daughter’s life so badly. It would kill you inside if that wasn’t the case. “O-Our.. baby, Boothill.” you said, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on you.
He stood up, still staring at your face with a serious expression. It was like his heart had completely blown up inside of his chest. It was like he was falling in love with you all over again at that very moment. He couldn’t feel more honored that you thought of him that way. “You’re serious..?” he questioned, looking into your eyes. 
“Y-Yes.. god, yes, Boothill. I don’t care if she’s not technically yours.. in the end, I want you in her life, and mine too. I can’t imagine a life without you..” you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his.
He couldn’t hide his wide smile at your confession. All of the love he had swallowed down was now completely overflowing, and he didn’t mind whatsoever. You were so beautiful. He adored you so much, and he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. He was also thrilled to have a daughter. He could care less if people would judge him for raising a child that wasn’t his. He was more of a father to her than any other man would be. 
He suddenly pulled you close to him, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It was so passionate and loving. He couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was finally able to have what he wanted, and it felt amazing. “I love you so much, darling, you don’t even know how deep my love runs for you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. “I’d die for you and our little angel..”
A grin appeared on your face. This was all you ever wanted to hear. You didn’t think you would ever have the opportunity to hear him say such things, but you couldn’t be happier it was coming true. “I love you more, Boothill.” you then placed his hand on your belly. “And I know she does too..”
The both of you couldn’t be more excited at that moment. It was all perfect. You had everything you ever wanted. Neither of you imagined that this life would be in front of you now, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
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hqbaby · 2 days
Text
eight — good game
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 2.2k content. profanity, mentions of difficult family situations, reader is an anxious wreck for a good bit 
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When Sukuna first met you, he was a fifteen-year-old nightmare with a penchant for pissing everyone off. His teachers hated him, his classmates avoided him, and he, frankly, did not give a fuck. 
To the girls in your grade, he was a right of passage. The bad boy they all had to go through before they came to their senses. The one who all their parents prayed would never come near their daughters, until he inevitably did and they resorted to locking their children away until the phase passed.
The two of you floated in different very spheres, had different friends, did different things. You were the most unlikely pair. Until you weren’t.
You met after class one unremarkable afternoon. It had been a busy day and you were beyond overwhelmed by finals, your attempt at joining the tennis team, and your family’s forthcoming breakdown. It was all getting to be a little too much, so you decided to hang back after classes when everyone had gone and take a moment to yourself.
You were on the school rooftop, peering over the ledge at the empty grounds, when Sukuna decided to scare the shit out of you.
“What the fuck!” you exclaimed as the boy popped up from behind a wall with a loud “Boo!”
He cackled as you jumped back from the ledge, clutching a hand to your chest. “Sorry,” he wheezed. “It was just a really good opportunity.”
You rolled your eyes at him.
You knew Sukuna, of course. From the periphery. Your friends sometimes talked about him, about the subjects he was failing, the revolving door of girls he was dating. The two of you were never in the same classes, but you were well-aware of his existence.
“What are you doing out here anyway?” he said when he had calmed himself down. He shot a teasing look at you. “Y’know, you could get in trouble for being at school this late.”
“You’re here too,” you shot back at him.
He bounced on his toes and grinned. “Touché.”
You sat down on a ledge and smoothed your skirt out, glancing back at the view from up high. “It’s really quiet.”
He hummed. “Yeah,” he said. “I honestly wish it was like this all the time.”
He sat down beside you and you quirked a brow at him.
“What are you doing?” you asked, scooting away from him.
He raised his hands in defense. “I’m just sitting, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that,” you said, scowling. “Your tricks don’t work on me. I know who you are.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be.”
The boy stretched his legs out and sighed. In the fading afternoon light, you managed to finally get a good look at this enigma that seemed to have no purpose in life other than to torment others. You were surprised to find just how normal he was, sitting beside you in his wrinkled school shirt, his hair disheveled, his manner easy.
“What are you doing here?” you found yourself asking him.
He looked at you with an expression of surprise. “What?”
You furrowed your brows. “I just asked what you were doing here.”
“Right.” He nodded, running a hand through his hair. There was something so boyish about his demeanor, a little awkward, a little uncertain. This was the ‘bad boy’ that had all the girls in your class swooning?
“I don’t really wanna go home,” he told you. His tone was soft, sheepish even. “Things aren’t exactly… good there.”
You were taken aback by his honesty. His vulnerability. Could it be that Sukuna was actually just a person? Just like you?
“Oh,” you said. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head, offering you a smile. It was gentler this time, not as brash as his usual smirk, his cheeky grins. “Don’t be,” he told you. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to dump that on you.”
“It’s okay,” you said and you were shocked to find that you meant it. “I’m… Well, I’m actually doing the same thing. Avoiding home.”
He cocked his head. “Yeah?” he said. “Not so good too?”
You scrunched your nose. “Yeah. Not so good.”
Sukuna gave you a knowing look then leaned backwards, staring up at the darkening sky. He was silent, just soaking in the passing time. You joined him in quiet reverie, and you realized that you actually enjoyed this stranger’s presence. It was nice. Good even.
“I know you too,” he said quietly.
You frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
There he was again with his slightly-embarrassed-teenage-boy look. “I’ve heard about you,” he says. “And I see you in the hallways sometimes and, I dunno, I just like watching you do your thing.”
“My thing?” You chuckled. “What do you mean?”
“Your thing,” he repeated, smiling. “You know, helping people. Caring about them. Like when you went ballistic on Dai because he wouldn’t leave Hikari alone.”
You felt your cheeks heat up. He’d seen that?
“He was being annoying,” you tried to justify.
Sukuna laughed. “Yeah, and you put him in his place.”
“I was too mean.”
“You were just the right amount of mean. Pounced on the guy like he deserved.”
The lamp on the rooftop turned on as the sky went completely dark. You hadn’t meant to stay there that long.
You stood up and grabbed your backpack. “I gotta go,” you said, straightening out your uniform. “Um, thanks… for this.”
He waved it off. “‘Course.”
You nodded and turned back to leave. As you grabbed the handle of the door, you heard him call after you.
“Yeah?” you said, looking back at him.
“See you around, tiger!”
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“Is she always like this?” Sukuna asks, turning to Maki and Nobara in the backseat. “It’s freaking me out.”
The four of you are in his car. Despite your protests, Sukuna had insisted that he drive you to your game. “That’s what good boyfriends do, right?” he reasoned right before you promptly slapped the back of his head.
Maki and Nobara—your ever-loving supporters—weren’t too jazzed when they found out that you’d be riding with him, so they decided to tag along. “So he doesn’t try anything,” Nobara explained before you shoved her onto the couch.
“Have you never seen her before a game?” Maki asks him.
He shakes his head. “No,” he tells her, glancing at you. “What the fuck is going on?”
To put things simply, what’s going on is that you’re brooding in your spot in the passenger’s seat, slowly working your way through a pack of gum in your lap. You’ve shoved four sticks into your mouth already, as far as Sukuna’s counted, and you seem like you have no intentions of stopping. You also haven’t spoken to him or your friends all morning, and—Sukuna’s decided this is the worst part—every few minutes, you proceed to crack your knuckles so loudly that he’s worried you’re going to snap your fingers off.
“You’re gonna choke,” he says, swatting your hand as you start to unwrap another stick of gum.
Oh, how he regrets doing that.
The glare you shoot him is the most terrifying thing he’s ever seen. See, Sukuna’s used to your annoyance, your confusion, even your anger. But he has never been subject to the complete and utter wrath you become capable of hours before a big game. He wouldn’t wish it on the worst person alive.
You look like you’re about to lunge at him when Nobara reaches from the back to hold you down.
“Just drive,” she tells Sukuna, unwrapping a stick of gum and feeding it to you. “She’ll be back to normal after the game.”
When you get to the court, Sukuna turns to you in an attempt to say something uplifting. Good luck, maybe. Have fun—would that be appropriate. But you’re marching away from them as soon as you see the rest of your team.
He’s completely stunned by this change in your attitude and his face does nothing to hide it. Maki and Nobara share a look at your best friend’s utter confusion and decide to give the guy a bone. He deserves a break from their scrutiny, even just for today.
“Come on,” Maki says, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the stands. “This is just her thing. She gets really nervous before a match.”
He bobs his head, sitting down where she tells him too. “Yeah, I figured.”
Of course, if Sukuna didn’t expect your pre-game mood swings, he’s absolutely not prepared to watch you out on the court, a complete beast as you essentially slap the ball away from you as soon as it reaches your side of the court.
He’s seen you in training before, all giddy and excited. Your normal self. He’s seen you teach kids on the weekend, all gentle and caring. He has, however, never been to one of your games before. Up until now, you’ve refused to let him go to one. He’s never questioned it before, just figured that you probably thought tennis was too boring for him.
Now he suspects that you were doing it for his own safety as he watches you return the ball with what he assumes is the same amount of power as a missile launcher.
The crowd goes wild after one particularly intense rally that Mai ends with—what Maki whispers to Nobara is—a drop shot. He has no idea why all these people are so happy. He never thought a game like this could look so violent.
“Are they winning?” he asks Nobara, eyes frantic.
She stifles her laughter at his confused expression. “Oh, yeah, they’re winning,” she tells him. “Our girl’s doing great.”
Sukuna swallows and turns back to you. There’s this stern look on your face as you pat Mai’s shoulder before she serves. When you move away to take your place, your eyes catch on his and, for just a moment, you flash him a nervous smile. A chink in the armor you’ve been wearing all day. Then you turn back to the court and you’re all serious again, but Sukuna swears he feels his heart skip a beat.
“Satoru’s here,” Maki tells Nobara, pointing at a spot a few seats away from them.
Sukuna manages to take his eyes off you for a moment to look at the man in question. He has a cap and shades on, but there’s no doubt that it’s him. What the fuck is he doing here?
And of course Sukuna and your friends aren’t the only ones who notice. You’re completely engrossed in the point until your eyes drift just a little, towards Satoru. You manage to return the ball a few times, but it isn’t long before—crack!
Sukuna barely registers what’s happening as you fall on your foot in what he’s sure is definitely the wrong way and you slip to the ground. A few members of the audience gasp as you roll over on your back and clutch at your ankle. It all happens so fast, from where Sukuna’s watching. Mai and your coach heading to your side, the medic hot on their heels. Maki and Nobara are standing, grabbing their things so they can get closer to you. 
It takes one look at your face—watery eyes and pained expression—for Sukuna to rush over to you.
When he gets to you, a decision has been made to end the game and get you out of there. When he gets to you, Satoru’s already gotten to you first.
“I’m so sorry,” you’re telling Mai as Satoru lifts you from the ground to bring you to the sidelines.
She shakes her head. “Stop it,” she tells you. “The team will win it for us.”
As they get to the benches, Satoru stops in his tracks at the sight of Sukuna, glowering at him.
“I can take it from here, man,” Sukuna says, pulling you out of your ex’s arms. He’s very gentle with you though as he looks down at you and smiles. “You did great.”
Your lips are wobbly as you sniffle. “I fucked up.”
Sukuna presses his lips to the top of your head. “You didn’t fuck up.”
Satoru watches this whole thing unfold before him, clenching his fists as the sight. “They need to check her at the clinic,” he says in a low voice. “I had it covered, you know.”
Sukuna looks at him with a snarl. “She’s my girlfriend,” he said pointedly. “I’ll take it from here.”
Maki catches up and takes one look at you in Sukuna’s arms, one look at the seething Satoru, one look at your smug best friend, and sighs. “Come on, let’s get her to the clinic,” she says, before looking at you. “You good, babe?”
“Yeah,” you tell her softly. Your eyes shift nervously from Sukuna to Satoru, both men looking like they’re going to pounce on the other, and you decide that you need this to end. “Stop being assholes and get me to the clinic.”
Your words snap Sukuna out of his testosterone-induced daze and he nods, turning without a thought of Satoru on his mind. He needs to be here for you right now.
Satoru tries to follow, but Maki holds his shoulder and shakes her head. “It’s better if you don’t.”
He watches as you and Sukuna disappear into the crowd. He turns to your friend. “So that’s okay with you?” he asks her, still looking at the spot where the two of you were. “What? Is he some kind of saint now?”
Maki pats his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she tells him. “For what it’s worth, I really liked the two of you together.”
Satoru scoffs. “Right,” he says. “Sure.”
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notes. i am totally not projecting my experiences as an ex tennis player gf on sukuna. like that’s so not happening here
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shrenvents · 2 days
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Guard Dog
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Warnings: Part one of two (is smut), stalkerish lol, fluff, mentions of death, mutual pining
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x you
Summary: Set after joining Alexandria, Daryl's overtly having issues settling in, and even more problems leaving you alone.
Word count: 1.8k
...
You and Daryl have known each other for years. Through thick and thin, your found-family has each other's backs. But your group has been wearing thin. From Beth to Tyreese, now in Alexandria, a strange and new environment— it's safe to say, Daryl’s been on edge. He was losing his nerve, and that somehow entailed keeping you close, very close.
Every and any second you're alone, he invades both your physical space, and it's becoming difficult to keep your feelings at bay, because you’ve been in love with him since your time at the prison. Even then, when shit hit the fan, he raced to get you out. Though you feared your affections for him made such a delusion — one that posed he would think to save you first— his recent clingy behaviour has made you believe in said delusion.
Today, he's back at it. You were alone gathering food for dinner for less than 10 minutes before he marched into the garage. Bearing in mind that he has no reason to be here, and spent most of his time hidden from the locals, his appearance would be considered unusual.
You let Daryl silently stand there, patrolling the entrance for a few seconds, till your heart gives out.
“Is something the matter?” You utter, shifting your eyes to his dark ones, and they snap to you, slightly taken aback. “Nothin,” is all he grumbles before looking outwards to your surroundings, observing and scanning like the hunter he is.
“Daryl, we’ve been here for weeks," huffing, "we’re alive, and well,” you state, swallowing quietly. “You can relax you know.” You turn to lift a basket of supplies. When heading for the exit, Daryl swiftly steps in front of you.
“I ain’t doin' nothin' but standing,” he rumbles defensively.
“Standing in front of me, might I add,” you retort, smiling, trying to ease the strange tension, but his face remains stoic. Daryl stares directly into you, and a shiver rolls down your spine. His intense gaze doesn’t last long, as he chooses to walk off without a goodbye. Your shoulders instantly deflate, and you exhale, closing your eyes.
“Now what was that?” Sasha’s voice makes you flinch, popping your eyes open to peer at her. “You tell me,” you sigh and she laughs.
“I’ll be damned if I ever try to read that caveman's mind,” she grins, “You're better off leaving that question for Carol.” Her smirk tells a different story, one that says she knows something more, and you can’t help the second shiver that racks through your body.
...
Desperate to figure out Dixon, you go to Carol’s, asking for her assistance with dinner as a cover.
As you both cook, it takes little time for her to notice your incessant gawking. She pronounces your name, and your eyes snap back to the sizzling food. “Cmon, you can talk to me,” she assures.
When you decidedly stay hushed, she releases a sigh that eases into a snicker. “You should speak soon before Daryl finds us, or you, rather,” she mentions, attempting to contain her humour. You spin to face her. “What do you mean by that?” You question far too quickly, that the words practically jumble together. “Exactly what it seems,” she smiles pleasantly, ignoring your eager tone. “You’ve got yourself a lifelong, loyal guard dog.”
“Why? I mean, Daryl’s protective of everybody? But why does he only follow me?” You ramble, “Doesn’t he trust me to not end up dead, in a friendly, gated community?” You pout and Carol laughs again.
“That isn’t quite why,” she dwindles.
“Please just spell it out for me, I can't take it anymore.” Now square to her, you drop the stirring utensil, and tug your apron over your head. She watches you move, absorbed in her thoughts, as you jump to sit on the edge of the kitchen island. “He’s making you uncomfortable?” She asks warily.
“Yes,” you pause, “and no.” Your head lowers in embarrassment.
After a moment, you look at Carol, while she refocuses on adding more ingredients, to the dish you abandoned. “Why does he do it?”
Her moving actions falter, and she pivots to face you. “It isn’t for me to say, but being around you, knowing you’re safe, clearly calms him." Though you don’t truly get it, you nod slowly so Carol goes back to finishing the meal.
Just as she puts meat in the oven, Daryl waltzes through the door, without so much as knocking or giving some sort of warning. You yelp when you spot him. When you lock eyes, you refuse to hold it, so you turn your head over your shoulder quickly, with a grimace, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.
“What? Somethin' happen?” His hoarse voice sounds almost panicked. As you swivel your neck to soothe Daryl’s unnecessary worry with a "No," he suddenly grips your wrist, far too roughly. You squeak as he grabs your full attention.
You assess how he stands motionless in front of your knees, eyes widened, regarding his hand as it holds your wrist. He looks kind of appalled, as if he couldn’t believe he touched you. He then briskly lets go of your arm, like it burned him, retracing into himself.
You gulp and your bottom lip trembles. 'Was he disgusted? Did he see you as a child? What had you done to warrant this behaviour?' You think anxiously.
You look between Carol and Daryl now, as they share a lengthy stare. You swear under your breath, then push Daryl's chest with your fists, shocking both of them.
“I’m leaving, do not, follow me.” You order, with a vexed, yet hurt look. His mouth gaps with a soundless word, and you leave.
...
Sitting alone in your home, your empty stomach growls, and you start to seriously regret what you did earlier, which left you too ashamed to stay for dinner.
As your thoughts run wild, a quiet knock at the door diminishes them. You stay still, almost wondering if the noise is no more than a tree branch, moved by wind, but he bellows your name.
"Daryl?" You respond, and his voice simply calls your name again, almost like a plea. You turn the lock and knob, opening to find Daryl, fidgeting on his feet uncomfortably at your doorstep. "Um, come in?" You alllow meekly, and he enters, faintly brushing your side.
Picking up his musky, pine scent, you bite your lip examining him, slowly leaning back on the closing door. He looks around agitatedly, seeming completely out of place, and somewhat flustered.
Growing stiff, you can't bear the awkward silence for much longer.
"I'm sorry," you mumble an apology for something, you're not sure what, and clearly, neither is he. He whirls towards you, stepping into your space. "For what?"
"I was rude earlier and-"
"Not rude, just, confusing." He interjects, brows furrowing in tune with his sentence. You scowl, "Well, if I'm being honest, I wouldn't say I'm the 'confusing' one here." Your remark reminds you of your previous feelings, and they bubble to the surface.
When he says nothing, you continue. "I'm safe here Daryl, and pretty happy, all things considered," you breathe out in exasperation. "Is there some danger that I should know of? Is someone here out to get me?"
"No-"
"So why do you keep chasing me around?" You just about shout, interrupting him. Daryl flinches and looks as though he wants to be anywhere but here, with you. He fixates on the door behind you. "I ain't doin' nothin-"
"Daryl! Please just," you cut yourself short as your voice escalates. "Please be honest with me, after everything we've been through, you owe me that," you beg.
His tense frame withers in defeat. "I just can't leave your side," he grumbles, his words barely understandable. "Why?"
"Don't wanna lose ya," Daryl's voice trails off as his head wheels to the side. "You won't, and I can take care of myself, just like the others, who you don't follow around." You fail to hide your ignominy, visibly disappointed that he believes you need special attention, over the rest of the group. "Can't," he mumbles.
"'Can't' what?" You inquire, now stepping into his space, voice rising.
"I can't, 'cause I don' wanna lose you," he exclaims again in a burst. Your face twists further in ignorance. "Christ woman," he runs his hand down his tormented expression. "Daryl, please stop dancing around what you mean." You cry out, "'Lose me?' Tell me what you mea-"
Abruptly, he grips your shoulders. "I want ya." He states, baring his teeth as if it were a threat. "I want you, I want you to live."
"You 'want' me... To live...?" You ask slowly and his eyes roll back in frustration. "No, not just to live-"
"Because I love you," you blurt and immediately try to pry your shoulders from his clutch. He stills with you firmly in his grasp, so close that his nose nearly grazes yours. His hold increases its strength, and he shakes his head to himself, seemingly battling his own thoughts. "Daryl?" You whisper.
"How can you?" He utters so quietly it's barely audible, so quiet you don't think he expected to say it out loud.
While his eyes squeeze shut, you snake your arms around his waist, and his entire build clamps up. Now afraid of a possible rejection, you loosen your embrace. But his hands move from your shoulders to your upper back, arms drawing you to him, fully caging you in. You take in his broad chest as it presses against your less impressive one. Your fingers seize his leather vest, aching to know how it feels under your palms.
His heavy breathing fans your nape, and you swear he sniffs your hair, as his nose tickles the skin behind your ear. His fingertips tease the ends of your hair, and you take this as an opportunity to breathe him in. Just as you do, he pulls away, moving you to an arm's length. You blush.
"Sorry," he mutters and your brows crease. "I smell bad, I know," he murmurs and goes fairly red himself. "I don't mind," you say sweetly with a smile, ignoring the urge to tell him you like it. Finally getting a chance to gaze into his eyes properly. You virtually melt when his pupils appear glassy. You've only seen him cry once, after losing Beth. 'So would he really be brought to tears over a confession? From you no less?'
"Daryl?" He peeks up from behind his fringe. "Do you 'want' me, or like me, like I like you?" You ask, trying to minimize the pressure he may feel to admit any feelings, but you so desperately want to know —how desperately you want him to hold you again.
"Both," he rasps.
You nod and smile sheepishly, "I can work with that."
When a comfortable silence envelops the room, your stomach growls loudly. A modest smile takes shape on Daryl's face. "I put some food aside for you, back at Carol's." He emits, gesturing to the door behind you, wordlessly asking you to go over there, with him. You nod a yes and your heart pounds, swooning at his thoughtfulness. "Thank you."
You reach your hand out, and he very hesitantly, takes it in his, after wiping it twice on his thigh. You beam, heading out the door.
Part two
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